Teasing the Cuck: Her Whore Hands on My Shoulder

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my favourite  hotwife caption Teasing the Cuck: Her Whore Hands on My Shoulder

I felt her hand, painted with a seductive red, gently rest on my shoulder, a possessive claim that sent shivers down my spine. The soft touch was a stark contrast to the rough fabric of the patterned diaper I wore, a constant reminder of my submissive role. Her fingers, long and manicured, traced lazy circles, teasing and taunting, as if she owned me. And in that moment, she did. The room was dimly lit, the shadows dancing across her skin, highlighting the curves of her body. I could feel her presence, her dominance, as she leaned in, her breath hot on my ear. ‘You’re mine,’ she whispered, her voice a sultry promise. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensation, the thrill of being her cuckold, her plaything. Her hand moved, sliding down my arm, a gentle caress that promised more. I knew she was teasing, toying with me, and I loved every second of it. Her whore hands, so skilled, so knowing, were my undoing.

The Art of Submission

Her touch was a language all its own, a silent command that I obeyed without question. The way her fingers danced across my skin, it was as if she was painting a picture, each stroke a brush of dominance. I could feel the weight of her gaze, heavy and intense, as she watched me react to her touch. My body betrayed me, responding to her in ways I couldn’t control. The patterned cloth around my waist, a symbol of my submission, felt tighter, more constricting, as if it was a physical manifestation of my desire. Her hand, still on my shoulder, squeezed gently, a silent reminder of who was in charge. I could feel the heat of her body, the promise of her pussy, so close yet so far. It was a tease, a delicious torment, and I was helpless to resist. Her whore hands, they were my master, my guide, and I was her willing slave. In that moment, there was nothing else, just her touch, her command, and my utter submission.

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