Her eyes meet mine as she leans against the counter, the white lingerie hugging her curves. ‘You’re taking too long,’ she purrs, her voice dripping with anticipation. I know what she wants—what she needs. Her friends, my friends, they’re all waiting, eager to taste what I’ve been denying them. She’s made it clear: this is her game, her rules. I’m just the cuckold watching from the sidelines, my cock aching with a mix of jealousy and desire. She’s asked once, won’t ask again. The message is clear: she’s ready to cheat, and I’m ready to watch. The kitchen is her stage, and I’m her captive audience, bound by her whims and her lust. Every movement she makes, every glance she gives, is a tease, a promise of what’s to come. I’m her willing slave, her cuckold, and she’s my queen, ready to claim her throne.