Published: September 2nd 2025, 11:09:13 am
Sunday, Shane and I ran into a group of people I know—friends from the neighborhood and some friends Scott introduced me to years ago. We were standing at a bar, waiting for a table when they came in. There I was, holding Shane's hand, leaning into him, letting everyone know he's my man. And he is. They came up and said hi, and I never let go of Shane. I held conversations with my arm around Shane's waist. I could see the questions in their mind. "Isn't she married to Scott? What's going on here?" Mentally, it was a rush—imagining them piecing it together, seeing that I've chosen Shane over my husband, that Scott's been demoted to the sidelines. I wonder if they think we make a better couple? Shane and look good together. He's taller, half Scott's age, way better looking, and definitely a more commanding presence. I bet they could see how I light up around Shane, how my body responds to him in ways it doesn't with Scott. At least I hope so. That thought alone fueled the wetness I was feeling in my pussy.
I want them to get used to it, even comfortable seeing me with Shane, treating us like the real couple we are. I want the invites I used to get for Scott and me to be for Shane and me now. They need to know I belong to Shane, sexually in any way he wishes. Whether he wants to bend me over and fuck my pussy raw, pump his cock down my throat until I drink his cum, or fill my ass with his dick and make me beg for his jizz. Emotionally, he's my man now. My thoughts revolve around pleasing him. I want them to see that I love Shane and his cock more than I do my husband. I want them to imagine his thick, veiny dick that stretches me wide, making me squirt like a fountain until he unloads deep in my guts, leaving me sloppy with cum. I want them to picture us on the couch, holding hands and watching TV afterwards. Look, I get it, things like this will make you wildly uncomfortable if you're squeamish about a wife ditching her husband for better sex and a deep connection with another, better man, but that's my thing. Shane owns me completely, and I want everyone to see it, accept it, while I happily make Scott fade into the background that he and his shame boner deserve.
I admit, the sexual high is incredible. My clit gets hard as a stiff dick when I think about Scott hearing about it later, his face falling, his shame boner rising despite himself. I know it's humiliating for him and uncomfortable for them to see, but for me, it's pure sex fuel. I get so turned on by the awkward silences, the polite smiles, trying to hide the shock at how I openly love Shane for my own thrill. Later that night, after seeing those kinds of reactions, Shane, who is as into this as much as I am, couldn't keep our hands off each other. I dropped to my knees, sucking his cock deep, feeling it hit the back of my throat while I thought about those friends knowing this is what I do now—worship Shane's dick instead of being faithful to Scott. When he bent me over and pumped me full of cum, his load shooting deep into my guts, I came hard, squirting his nut out of me around his shaft, the mental image of our friends' faces making it an incredibly intense orgasm.
And don't give me that crap about how awful I'm being to Scott. He needs this as much as I do. His dick wants this as much as my clit does. Our marriage still includes him as long as he accepts that Shane's the real man in my life. Scott is there to provide me the pleasure I get from making sure he understands that. I get to be with men who are younger, better looking, sexually superior, and to make all that even more intense and real, the feelings I have for Shane make it all beyond perfect. I hope Scott fully embraces it, because this is what I need. A big part of it is the mental twist of others seeing me belong to Shane, thinking maybe I'm better off with him, all while knowing Scott's at home, by himself, wondering if and when I might come home. How he finds pleasure in that is a great mystery...But I wouldn't have it any other way.