I lie here, my back pressed against the soft mattress, my heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anticipation. The room is dimly lit, casting a warm glow over my exposed skin. My husband’s eyes are fixed on my chest, his gaze intense and hungry. He loves this view, the way my tits spill out, heavy and inviting. It’s a sight that never fails to arouse him, and me too, if I’m honest. The tension in the air is palpable, a thick, electric charge that makes my skin tingle.
What Does He See When He Looks at Me?
He sees a slut, a whore who knows how to please him. My nipples are hard, begging for his touch, his mouth. I can feel the weight of his stare, the way it makes my pussy throb with need. He’s not just looking; he’s devouring me with his eyes, imagining all the filthy things he wants to do to me. And I let him. I encourage it. Because in this moment, I’m his, completely and utterly. My body is his playground, and he knows it.The bed creaks softly as I shift, my breasts jiggling with the movement. His breath hitches, and I know he’s imagining them bouncing as he fucks me hard and deep. The thought makes me wet, my thighs slick with my own arousal. I can almost feel his cock, thick and hard, pressing against my entrance, ready to claim me. But for now, he’s content to watch, to savor the sight of my exposed tits, knowing that soon, very soon, he’ll have his fill. And I’ll let him. I’ll let him take everything he wants and more.







