Living Room Cuckold Cleanup

I lean in, my leopard-print top hugging my curves, as I whisper in his ear, ‘My, your dick is very hard. Looks like you like playing with my pussy after someone else has fucked it.’ His eyes widen, and I can feel his breath quicken. I know he’s imagining the other man, the one who just left, his cock still throbbing inside me. It’s a thrill, this power I have over him. I can see the mix of desire and humiliation in his eyes, and it turns me on even more.

What Does He Crave More?

I shift, my thighs brushing against his leg, and I can feel the tension in his body. He wants to touch me, to claim me, but he knows he can’t. Not yet. Not until I say so. I run a finger along his jaw, feeling the stubble, and I lean in closer, my lips almost touching his. ‘I think it’s time for you to lick what someone else has fucked,’ I murmur, my voice low and sultry. His eyes darken with lust, and I know he’s mine to command. The ring on my finger catches the light, a symbol of our unique arrangement. I’m his, but I’m also mine, and I love the way it drives him wild. He reaches out, his hand trembling slightly as he cups my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple through the thin fabric. I gasp, arching into his touch, and I can feel his cock straining against his jeans. I want him, but I want to make him wait. I want to see how far I can push him, how much he can take. I pull back, a smirk playing on my lips, and I stand up, my heels clicking on the hardwood floor. ‘Not yet,’ I say, my voice firm. ‘First, you need to earn it.’ I turn, giving him a view of my ass as I walk away, knowing he’s watching every step. I can feel his gaze on me, hungry and desperate. And I love it. I love the power, the control, the way he looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters. I’m his hotwife, and I’m going to make him work for it. Because that’s the game we play, and I always win.