The sound of soft moans fills the room, a symphony of pleasure that’s become all too familiar. I lie here, my body pressed against the cool sheets, the weight of my husband’s gaze heavy on my skin. His eyes, always hungry, always desperate, watch as I arch my back, my huge, floppy tits spilling over the edge of my bra. I can feel his jealousy, a palpable thing that hangs in the air like a thick fog. It’s a feeling I’ve grown to crave, this mix of humiliation and desire that courses through his veins. And there, in the corner, is the man who’s about to make my husband’s fantasies a reality. His presence is a silent promise, a threat that sends shivers down my spine. I can almost hear my husband’s thoughts, the whirlwind of emotions that’s tearing him apart. He wants this, needs this, even as it tears him to pieces. The tension in the room is electric, a charged atmosphere that makes every breath feel like a struggle.
The Weight of His Gaze
I shift slightly, the movement causing my tits to sway, drawing the attention of both men. My husband’s eyes widen, a mix of fear and arousal that’s almost comical. He knows what’s coming, the inevitable surrender to his deepest desires. And I, his willing slut, am about to give him the show of his life. The man in the corner moves closer, his hand reaching out to trace the curve of my hip. I can feel my husband’s breath hitch, the sound a testament to his torment. As the man’s fingers brush against my skin, I can’t help but smile. This is what he wants, what he’s always wanted. To watch, to be humiliated, to be the cuckold in his own bed. And I, his devoted wife, am more than happy to oblige. The room fills with the sounds of our pleasure, a cacophony of moans and whispers that drown out everything else. This is our reality, a twisted dance of desire and humiliation that we both crave.







