While His Wife Watches (Becoming A Cuckquean Book 1)
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While His Wife Watches (Becoming A Cuckquean Book 1)
Sophie loves her husband. To her, Matt is the sweetest, kindest, sexiest man alive. She can't believe her luck in landing such a wonderful man, the kind of man every woman wants.
Sometimes, she thinks about Matt with other women. And it turns her on.
'“Oh, fuck!†Matt cried out, and I felt his balls leap in my mouth as the skin of his scrotum tightened. A chorus of moans and shrieks came from the TV behind me, the ludicrous wails of female porn stars as they fake another orgasm for the camera. But that was not for my eyes. My eyes were filled with the sight of my husband’s tight balls, his cock looming over me like a swaying tree as he rubbed it hard and fast. He was close, and my body tingled with arousal as I watched him pleasure himself. My tongue snaked outwards, licking his balls while he masturbated to porn. With a shout, he came, several spurts of cum leaping from the tip of his cock as he shuddered and trembled, emptying himself. I tenderly kissed his testicles, bathing his balls with my tongue. I loved him. Every part of his body was sacred to me, every inch deserving of worship. When I got turned on, like now, there was nothing I wouldn’t do to make him happy. Matt slumped back on the couch, his hard cock shuddering towards softness as it slowly descended into his lap. He had that glazed look again, that post-orgasmic empty-headed look I loved to see on his face, abdominal muscles pulsing as his breathing gradually slowed in the wake of orgasm. My own arousal, on the other hand, was at a frenzied peak, my body humming with desire. When I get like this, we both know, the dirtiest thoughts seem like good ideas. It’s like being drunk, but with no hangover. Unless you count the gnawing sense of shame that comes at the actions you performed, once the blood cools. The trouble is, the shame itself becomes a turn-on, and then I’m right back there again. The handcuffs clinked as I shifted, on my knees before my husband. They had been my idea, a birthday gift for him that I was reluctant to tell him were mostly really a present for myself. I was addicted to the feeling of powerlessness, the need for him to take control of me and make me do the things I so desperately wanted to do, but was too afraid to admit to. Being a slut takes a huge amount of confidence, a confidence I simply don’t have. But deep down, all I want, all I ever wanted, is to be my husband’s slut.'