Be My Wife's Cuck

Don and Erin have been tangled up for years. He's the undisputed Dom, the one who calls the shots, but Erin's no pushover—a fierce switch who flips the script when the mood strikes. Don's job drags him across the country, week after week, so they've cut a deal: bring in a cuckold to keep things locked down. They posted an ad on one of those shadowy online forums, and Peter popped up as the prime pick—eager, broken-in just enough. Erin summons him for the interview, but on his knees, no exceptions. Peter steps through the door, eyes darting like a cornered rat, and Erin snaps her fingers. 'Down, boy.' He drops fast, knees hitting the floor with a thud. Up on the couch, Don and Erin loom like kings on thrones, legs spread casual but commanding, the air thick with smoke and anticipation. 'Any experience, pet?' Erin drawls, her voice a silken whip. Peter stammers out his creds—watching, waiting, never touching. Don leans forward, his laugh low and gravelly. 'I hit the road too damn much. Can't stand leaving my wife high and dry. But with a cuck bitch like you around? She won't be alone. You'll guard the fort, won't you? Lick her boots if thieves come knocking.' They lay down the law sharp and clear: duties spelled out—no topping from the bottom, chores without complaint, and eyes only where they're allowed. Peter nods, sweat beading on his brow, the room pulsing with the weight of his surrender. Erin's gaze pins him like a bug. 'Words are cheap, slut. Let's see you serve. Suck my toes while I worship the Man of the House's cock.' She kicks off her heels, feet arching toward his mouth as she slides to her knees before Don, unzipping him with a hunger that scorches. Peter crawls closer, lips trembling as they close around her toes, tasting salt and command. Don's hand fists in Erin's hair, guiding her down, down, her mouth devouring him in wet, rhythmic pulls—demonstrating the raw fuck of real power. Peter watches, denied, his world shrinking to the slick sounds and the couple's savage rhythm. He'll never know that fire, never plunge into heat like Don does, thrusting up into Erin's throat with a growl that echoes off the walls. It's a lesson in what he'll always crave but never claim.