I remember the first time I saw her like this, getting ready for a date with another man. The way she looked in the mirror, her eyes filled with desire, her body trembling with anticipation. She knew what was coming, and she couldn’t wait. The thought of another man’s cock in her mouth, of being filled and used, made her wet. I could see it in her eyes, the hunger, the need. She was a hotwife, and she loved every second of it. The way she dressed, the way she moved, it was all for him. And I, her cuckold, watched, my heart pounding, my cock hard, knowing that soon, she would be his. And I would be left with nothing but the memory of her pleasure, of her screams of ecstasy as he fucked her, as he made her his. And I would love every second of it, because that’s what a cuckold does. He watches, he waits, and he gets off on his wife’s pleasure, on her submission, on her being used by another man. And that’s what she was, a hotwife, and I was her cuckold, and we both loved it.
