Your Wife's Threesome Without You

India Summer walks you into the fanciest suite she could book for your tenth anniversary, bedroom eyes already burning a hole through your clothes. She pushes you onto the mattress, snaps a pair of steel cuffs around your wrists, and makes you comfy while she steps out to change. When she struts back in that barely-there lace number, the heat in the room triples. She teases your bulge, then drops the bomb that “company” will show up soon—and yeah, it’s the threesome you’ve been begging for. Only the company that knocks turns out to be Zac Wild and Ricky Johnson, two built young studs already eyeing her like they’re about to ruin her. You start to protest, but India shuts it down quick: this show’s for her pussy, not yours. Behave or they’ll move the fun down the hall without you. She flashes that wicked grin because she knows you inside out—knows the part of you that secretly gets off on watching. So you sit helpless while she peels both guys’ pants away and sucks them hard right at the edge of the bed. She orders you to keep your eyes open, even lets your free hand squeeze a tit now and then, but the main event belongs to them. Soon she’s straddling Ricky and riding like the cock belongs inside her, moaning louder every time Zac swaps places. They lean in and talk shit:”sissy doesn’t deserve that pussy”—and you just take it, cuffs clinking, because your dick is traitor-hard and there’s nothing you can do. Occasionally she grants you a boob grab or lets you swipe her swollen clit, then jerks away again, still cooing, “this is all for you, baby” like the bitchy little mind-fuck it really is. Your wife coming on their thick cocks while she calls you useless—maybe it turns you on more than you’re ready to admit, you lucky bastard.