





















Scott got me off today. He didn't touch me. I don't allow that anymore. I don't let him see me undressed. That privilege belongs to someone else now. I did make him undress and jerk off while I told him all about my night with Jake. It was a pitiful but delicious site to see him frantically yank his cock as I shamelessly told him of my feelings for Jake. The harsher I embraced my dark side with Scott, the more drenched my pussy became. It was a bizarre thrill, telling Scott of my feelings for Jake and, at the same time, knowing that some of Jake's cum from this morning was shamelessly oozing out along with my own girl jizz. When I barked at him to speed up and finish, needing his opinion on what dress I should wear for my date with Jake later on, he obediently pumped out a very hefty load of jizz into his hand. Without hesitation or a word from me, he ate his cum, slurping it up, proving his utter submission and proof of what I had reduced him to. Thinking back to when I first met Scott, he would fuck me with unchecked dominance, claiming me as his own—and he did own me. He was a man in command, controlling everything around him. Fast forward to the present, and here he is, pathetically tugging on his dick and swallowing his own cum, while I laugh as I tell him how another man has taken me and made me his own. He doesn't do any of this because he wants to. My husband does this because he has to. He won't be the one I pick if I'm driven to a decision. It is also the only way I will participate in anything sexual with him. This realization thrills me, igniting a fire in my pussy. I threw him out of the room, loving the power I hold over him as I fingered myself, reveling in the pathetic cuck I have meticulously crafted. His complete submission and my absolute psychological supremacy added to my pleasure and fired off an overwhelming climax that left me trying to catch my breath. How could I ever abandon this life of depravity? I can't. It's too flawlessly twisted.