The glint of her heels catches the light, drawing my eye to the curve of her ass, bare and inviting. She’s bent over, her dress riding up, exposing everything. The room is a blur, but the sight of her, my hotwife, is crystal clear. Her long hair cascades down, almost touching the carpet, as she waves to him, her husband, her cuck. ‘There’s my husband down there. Fuck me while I wave to him,’ the text reads, bold and unapologetic. It’s a scene I’ve imagined, but never like this. The reality is raw, visceral, and utterly humiliating.
The Weight of Her Submission
The chair to the side, draped in white, seems to mock me. It’s a reminder of the comfort I once had, now replaced by this twisted desire. Her submission is a knife, cutting deep. She’s not just exposing her body; she’s laying bare her soul, her loyalty to him, her need to be used. The curtain sways gently, as if whispering secrets of her pleasure. I’m left here, a spectator, a cuckold, watching as she offers herself to him, her husband, her everything. It’s a humiliation I crave, a pain I relish, a reality I can’t escape.