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@cuckolding-books-library
Chérie, comment crois-tu que tu te sentirais si tu regardais ? Tu ne pourrais pas t'empêcher de comparer ce qu'il a en tant qu'homme avec ce que tu as… et la façon dont il me le fait et celle dont tu me le fais.
Images et mise en page par Elle_et_eux. @elle-et-eux.
Honey, how do you think you'd feel if you looked? You wouldn't be able to help but compare what he has as a man with what you have—and how he does it to me and how you do it to me.
Images and presentation style by Elle_et_eux. @elle-et-eux.
Pas pour n'importe qui, pas même pour toi qui es mon mari, mais pour ton meilleur ami, j'aimerais jouer le rôle de sa chienne soumise.
Images et mise en page par Elle_et_eux. @elle-et-eux.
Not for just anyone—not even for you, my husband—but for your best friend, I'd love to play the role of his submissive bitch.
Images and presentation style by Elle_et_eux. @elle-et-eux.
Honey, as for your idea of joining the riding club where I train, I have to advise against it. You aren't the kind of stud who would make female riders wish they were mares in heat for you—but the carefully chosen male members of the club undoubtedly are. Further, I would feel more free to enjoy myself there if you weren't a member.
Your wife had been teasing you all day; she smiled and said, "I want you very horny this evening—when you'll watch your best friend fuck me."
It's a normal day at Topham. A wife has told her sissified hubby that she has invited over a friend of hers who wants to sissify her husband. She has told her Pink to wear his submissive maid attire and clean every room of the house. He's obeyed.
Images from @sissy-maids-of-suburbia
Your wife’s Valentine’s Day present was tying you up and leaving you standing in your room wearing a bright pink dress while she met her lover to be thoroughly fucked. She was back home very late—after being fucked good in the back seat of his new Bentley. A while afterward, on her command, you were on your knees—she whispered, “It wouldn't have been a proper Valentine’s Day fuck if I didn’t feed you Roger’s cum.
________________________
Images from @sissy-maids-of-suburbia
Before you left on a business trip, your wife wanted to show you some of the lingerie sets she was going to wear for your boss while you were away. She told you to buy her at least a couple of them in Paris—you knew she was going to wear them for your boss first.
Your wife made an entrance into the restaurant where your boss and you were waiting for her to arrive, as if she were asking your boss to hit on her. He had a reputation of being a womanizer, and he started to flirt with her almost immediately. That evening, you ended up holding your wife's panties in your hands while he fucked her in front of you. Since that day, she has been his steady lover, and you are her obedient cuckold.
In sex, foreplay is vital. Your wife’s just-fucked pussy is in full view for you, but she keeps teasing you to make you long for it more and more. She wants you to crave it madly, to the point where if she asked you if you want to lick her lover’s cum, you would beg her to allow you to do it.
The very first day of her vacation alone, your wife started to flirt with the men there and to mercilessly tease them. Almost all of them got nothing but a fantasy to masturbate to. The deserving man she took to her bed gave her what a woman like her needs and deserves—but seldom gets from you. She always tells you every juicy detail of what she does on every vacation. It is fair that she does—you should have known that if you marry a woman every man covets, you'd better be able to satisfy her.
Everything was very subtle. Weren’t you being oversuspicious? Your wife had been talking for days of the birthday party of her bestie's brother, and she was taking too long to get ready and showing too much interest in looking attractive. She was almost ready when she said, “Honey, I forgot to tell you about it—he told me that I can stay over at his house if I drink alcohol at the party. I might accept his offer, so don’t stay up.”
Your best friend asked your wife to dance, and she enthusiastically accepted. A couple of minutes afterward, she told you, “Honey, why don’t you leave me alone with your friend for a long while? You have talked about visiting your Mom, and you can tell her that I am very busy.” You knew all the time what they were doing, don’t you? You find an excuse to leave them alone every time he visits you.
Your wife is in his car, ready to leave and enjoy the weekend with a real man—a Black man. The images in your head are of her in lingerie and of you observing her get ready for him. She says goodbye, and they leave. Alone at home, you take your rollerball pen and some premium bond paper and start to write, “My wife has just left to spend the weekend with a Black man who dwarfs me in virility and lovemaking skills. She has instructed me to write a thorough description of what I imagine they might be doing while she is with him—like whether she has stripped for him, whether she is already wet, or whether his huge Black cock is in her mouth. She has told me not to masturbate for any reason. I must not do it, not even if writing—and thinking—about her having sex with him is extremely arousing for me.”
Honey, he never wears a condom.
I swallow. I take his seed into my womb.
Really, honey? Did you say that you would have liked that he stayed to have breakfast with us? Would you really have liked to serve breakfast to the man who has had sex with me in our marital bed all night?