Laying in bed, staring at you on your stomach in just a thong… and my mind drifts. I can’t help but wonder how many times an ex laid here, looking at that same perfect view. How many times he grabbed that ass, pulled your thong aside, and slid into you while you moaned into the sheets.
And instead of making me jealous, it makes me harder than ever. Because I want to hear it all. I want to know how you looked, how you sounded, how he fucked you from behind while you arched your back just like this.
Now you’re mine, but god, the thought of your past, of your body being worshiped and used before me—it fuels every fantasy I have when I look at you like this.













