I Can't Believe She Told Me About Her Wild Night Out

I’m sitting here, my heart pounding as I stare at her text. ‘How upset would you be if I told you I was naughty last night while I was out?’ Her words echo in my mind, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through me. I can almost see her, her blond hair cascading down her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She knows exactly what she’s doing, teasing me with the thought of her out there, doing God knows what. My mind races with images of her, her body pressed against some stranger’s, her lips parted in pleasure. I’m torn between the sting of jealousy and the throb of arousal. ‘Or would it make you horny?’ she asks, and I know she’s right. It does. It fucking does. I’m her cuck, her willing plaything, and I can’t help but wonder what she did, who she was with, and how much she enjoyed it. The anticipation is killing me, but I know I’ll be begging for every detail soon enough.