My wife wants more

That afternoon, the atmosphere at home is different. Your wife has spent hours getting ready: she chooses a tight dress, a deep neckline that leaves little to the imagination, tight stockings held up with a garter belt, and high heels that make her walk provocatively. Her perfect makeup, sweet and sexual perfume. When she looks in the mirror, you see her indecent smile, the new sparkle in her eyes; she's no longer nervous, now she's looking for more.

You, with the chastity belt closed and the key out of reach, don't even try to compete. You know who's in charge today. When the older man rings the doorbell, she doesn't even wait for you to speak: she rushes to open the door, greets him with two kisses and a smile she's never given you. He enters without hesitation, looking around the house with absolute confidence, and looks at you as if you were the servant.

"How well you receive me..." he says, putting his hands on her waist as soon as he enters. "Today you're really dressed to be fucked."

She smiles, moves his hair aside, and shows him her neckline.

The two of you enter the living room, but the older man doesn't pay attention to you, he goes straight to your girlfriend. He sits on the couch, opens her legs, and makes her sit on top of him. Without asking you anything, he lowers a strap, puts his hand down her neckline, and pinches her nipple. She shudders and gives him a slow, deep kiss, while you can only watch from the other end of the table.

He smiles, gives you a dry order:

"Bring me a drink, cuckold."

You obey, feeling the heat and the tight cage rubbing against your pants. When you return, he lowers his hand between her legs, lifts her skirt shamelessly, and sees that she's not wearing underwear. He laughs, satisfied.

"This one knows how to receive a real man, huh?"

She just surrenders. She turns her head towards you, raises an eyebrow: "I'm doing this so you can see everything".

As they drink, the older man takes over the room. He puts the TV on in the background, hugs her as if she were his, kisses her nonstop, and puts his hand inside her stocking, making her moan softly. He doesn't even speak to you, only uses you when he needs something: serve me another, bring ice, bow your head when I pass, as if you were invisible, only useful for serving him.

Suddenly, with a pat on the thigh, he says:

"Come on, let's go to my new room" - referring to yours, of course, but he doesn't even bother to ask you.

You follow them, following orders. When you enter, the scene is straightforward: he undresses her, one by one the straps, bites her clavicle, lowers the dress. He makes her get on the bed, on her back, stockings still on, heels marking the limit. He opens her legs and licks her without pause, wet noises, shameless moans, she writhes, begs for more.

The older man looks at you briefly.

"Do you know what it's like...