Look, I’m gonna lay it all out here because this is who I am..

Look, I’m gonna lay it all out here because this is who I am, and I’m not ashamed of it. I’m married to Scott, but let’s be real—our marriage isn’t some sacred bond anymore. I openly cheat on him, and I don’t give a damn if he knows. It’s not a cuckold thing in the classic sense, but I’d call it an emotional cuckold dynamic. I’ve cut him off completely from seeing me naked. That privilege, that intimacy, it’s not his anymore. It belongs to Shane, my 30-year-old lover who’s got me wrapped around his damn finger. And yeah, I’m obsessed with Shane—emotionally, sexually, every fucking way. But then there’s Jake, my 45-year-old ex, whose cock I can’t stop craving. Tomorrow, I’m sneaking off to see Jake, to feel his massive dick pump me full of cum again. I won’t tell Shane, but I need it. I need both of them, and I love making Scott suffer in the process. Here’s why this shit turns me on so much.

First, let’s talk about Shane. He’s younger, fun, relaxed, and just gets me in a way Scott never could. I’m in love with his cock—perfectly sized, thick, and it fucking resizes my pussy every time he slides it in. I could take it 24/7, no joke. I dream about it, fantasize about it, and when he’s fucking me, it’s like my whole world narrows down to that moment. His dick owns me, stretches me, makes me feel alive. Emotionally, he’s got me hooked too. He’s not just a fuck; he’s my everything right now. I feel like I belong to him, like my body is his to claim. That’s why I don’t let Scott see me naked anymore. Stripping down for Shane feels like giving him my soul, my desire, my fucking essence. Denying Scott that view? It’s like slamming a door in his face, reminding him he’s nothing to me sexually. It’s cruel, and that cruelty gets me wet. It’s power, plain and simple. I love knowing he’s left in the dark, humiliated, while Shane gets to see every inch of me, touch me, fuck me senseless.

Now, denying Scott isn’t just about Shane. It’s about me reclaiming my body and my pleasure. Scott’s my husband, sure, but he doesn’t own me. I decide who gets access, and he’s lost that right. When I refuse to let him see me naked, it’s like I’m saying, “You’re not man enough for this.” It’s a mindfuck for him, and I get off on that control. It’s not just about physical denial; it’s emotional. I’m tearing him down, making him feel small, while I’m out there getting fucked by men who make my pussy sing. The humiliation I put him through—knowing I’m giving my body to Shane, knowing I’m obsessed with another man’s cock—it’s a rush. It’s like I’m punishing him for not being enough, and that power dynamic makes me feel like a fucking goddess.

But then there’s Jake, and holy shit, I can’t stop thinking about him either. I left him for Shane, but his cock? It’s a goddamn masterpiece. Slightly bigger than Shane’s, perfectly shaped, like it was sculpted to be the ultimate dick. In the year we were together, he pumped more cum into me than Scott has in our entire marriage. I can still feel it—his thick, hot loads flooding my pussy, hitting my cervix, swimming around inside me. It’s like he was breeding me, turning my insides into a sloppy, cummy mess, and I fucking loved every second of it. Tomorrow, I’m going to see him, and I’m already dripping thinking about it. I need his dick inside me again, need to feel his balls empty into me, need that primal, animalistic release. I won’t tell Shane because I know he’d hate it, but I don’t care. I’m not choosing between them; I want both. Shane owns my heart and body right now, but Jake’s cock is a fucking addiction I can’t quit.

Why do I crave this? Why do I love having multiple men while denying Scott? It’s about freedom, power, and raw fucking desire. With Shane, I’m emotionally and sexually consumed. He makes me feel seen, wanted, alive. With Jake, it’s pure, unfiltered lust—his cock is a drug, and I’m chasing that high. Denying Scott amplifies it all. It’s not just about saying no to him; it’s about saying yes to myself, to my pleasure, to men who make me feel like a fucking queen. Every time I let Shane or Jake fuck me, it’s a middle finger to Scott’s inadequacy. I love the cruelty of it, the way it twists the knife in his ego. It’s not just about their cocks (though, fuck, those are perfect); it’s about me owning my sexuality, my body, my desires.

So yeah, I’m obsessed with Shane’s cock, in love with how he makes me feel, and I’m sneaking off to let Jake breed me tomorrow. Scott? He gets nothing but the humiliation of knowing I’m out there, giving myself to men who deserve it. This is my kink, my truth, and I’m living it unapologetically.