Cuckold Humiliation Phone Sex: I Pegged a Married Man While His Wife Was With Her Lover

He sat down two stools away from me at the hotel bar with the posture of a man who had been defeated by life, wedding ring spinning nervously around his finger. His name was Paul. Within ten minutes of conversation I knew his wife was sleeping with her personal trainer, a younger man with what Paul described, staring into his whiskey, as considerably better equipped. I almost laughed out loud. Men tell me everything. They cannot help it.

I looked him up and down and said, let me guess, she stopped pretending to enjoy you years ago. He nodded, miserable. I told him to come upstairs with me, and he followed. They always follow.

In my room I told him to strip, and I did not soften a single word. When his underwear came down I looked at his tiny, half-hard little shrimp and I laughed, a real laugh, right in his face. You and I both know that could never satisfy a woman, I said. That is why she is out getting stretched by massive cock while you sit in hotel bars feeling sorry for yourself. That is why no woman wants that sad little thing. His face burned red and his pathetic cock twitched, because they always love it, the humiliation, even while it destroys them.

I sat on the edge of the bed in my corset and told him to kneel, and he dropped like a stone. I made him crawl to me and I spread my legs and told him to earn his place with his mouth. He ate my pussy desperately, sloppily, like a starving man, and I grabbed his hair and ground against his face and told him this was the most useful that mouth had ever been. When I was wet and throbbing I pushed his face away and stood up.

From my bag I took my strap-on, thick and long, much bigger than anything he had ever been, and his eyes went wide. I told him to bend over the bed. He hesitated for one second, one single second, and my voice went cold. I did not ask you, I said. I told you. Bend over. He scrambled into position so fast it was almost funny.

I lubed him up with zero gentleness and pressed the head against his tight hole, and I leaned down and whispered in his ear while I pushed in slow. Think about your wife right now, I said. She is on her back with her legs spread for a real man, taking every inch, screaming, while her pathetic little husband gets fucked like the bitch he is. He moaned into the mattress, and I fucked him deeper, steady and relentless, the way a man should be fucked when he has accepted what he is.

You know the best part, I told him, driving into him harder. When she comes home dripping with his cum, she is going to make you lick her clean. You are going to eat another man's cum out of your own wife's pussy and you are going to thank her for it. He was sobbing a little by then, cock leaking untouched, and I did not let up until he was shaking and begging me to stop, begging me to keep going, he did not even know which.

After, he lay curled on the bed looking ruined and peaceful at the same time, and I stood over him and told him the truth. You will think about this every day. You will touch yourself to the memory of being nothing, and you will call women like me for the rest of your life, because it is the only place you belong. On your knees.

If you need a woman who will tell you exactly how small and pathetic you are, and mean every word, you know where to find me. Do not keep me waiting. I dislike that.