I’m lying here, my body still trembling from the last thrust, and I can’t help but think about his cock. My husband’s cock is good, but it’s not the same. It’s not the same as the one that used to fuck me senseless. The one that gave me what I deserved. The one that made me feel like a real woman. I can still feel the ghost of his hands on my body, his breath on my neck, his cock inside me. It’s a memory that won’t fade, no matter how much I try to push it away. And as I look at my husband, I can’t help but wonder if he knows. If he knows that I’m still thinking about the man who treated me like a slut. The man who gave me what I wanted. The man who fucked me like I was his to own. And as I close my eyes, I can’t help but wish that he was here, right now, fucking me again. Making me feel like a real woman. Making me feel like a slut.