People keep asking how Scott, my husband, can stand being wi..

People keep asking how Scott, my husband, can stand being with me when I cheat on him all the time, out in the open. I don’t know if you’d get it. Sometimes I don’t even get it myself. But Scott is wired for this. He lives for me to make him feel like nothing, to humiliate him, and those shame boners he gets prove he’s mine to break. I love giving him what he needs—it’s like a messed-up miracle that I found someone like him. He’s taken my sex life to a whole new level just by being this way. Outside, Scott looks solid—tall, strong, the kind of guy everyone respects. But the second he walks through our door, he shrinks into this little toy I get to mess with, a puppet I can twist until he’s nothing. He wants it, though—craves it. I see it in his eyes, that same hungry look I get from other guys right before they shove their dick in my mouth, except Scott’s need is different.

He needs me to come home smelling like another guy, my pussy or ass still wet and leaking with someone else’s cum. He needs me to spread my legs in front of him, let him see the dripping mess between my thighs, and hear me say, “Look what a real man did to your wife, you useless cuck.” His face red, shame written all over it, but his dick—it’s hard, twitching, a shame boner he can’t stop. It’s like it’s begging for me to keep going, to dig in deeper. I don’t let him touch it—he doesn’t need to. The humiliation does it for him.

The other night, I was getting ready for Jake—he’s my obsession now. Plus, Jake has me hooked on his perfect dick. I let Scott have his sad little role in my relationship with Jake. I stripped naked, told him to do the same, and laid on the bed, legs spread wide, my pussy right there for him to see. I handed him the razor and said, “Shave me—Jake likes it smooth when he fucks me.” Scott knelt between my thighs, staring at my pussy, already wet, thinking of how my husband was preparing me for another man. He shaved me carefully, trimming my pubic hair, his fingers brushing my lips here and there like he couldn’t help it. I could see his dick standing straight up, leaking already, and I loved it—loved knowing how low he’d sunk, getting me ready for the guy who’s taken his place.

I couldn’t stop myself—I started talking about Jake. “He’s so good, Scott. The way he slides into me, so deep, so perfect—it’s like my pussy was made for him.” Scott stopped for a second, but he kept going, shaving me bare while I kept digging into him. I wanted to get to him, so I said, “I’ve fallen for him. He’s not just a fuck—I think I might be in love with him.” That’s when it happened. Scott froze, got this dazed look on his face, and I felt it—hot, wet spurts hitting my leg. His cum splattered on my thigh, his dick jerking, shooting sperm without him even touching it. It was amazing, he pumped his cum, kneeling between my legs, just from hearing I might love Jake—his shame boner going off because I’d found his trigger, telling him another man owns me in ways he never can. If he’d touched my clit right then, I would’ve lost it myself—but I don’t let him see that. I like it this way.

You might not get it, but we’re a team. Scott wants me to make him feel like nothing, to show off how Jake’s cum fills my holes, how my pussy gets wet for a better man. I love to give that to him. Every time I humiliate him, telling him he’s nothing compared to Jake, his dick twitches, leaking cum, and oddly enough, it makes our relationship even stronger. He can’t control those shame boners—and I can’t control it that I am addicted to giving them to him. I love the way they pop up the second I start in on him. After he came on my leg, he looked at me with that goofy, post-cum stare, and I laughed, smearing his sad little load with my finger. “Clean it up,” I said, and he did, licking his own cum off my skin while I told him Jake’s getting me tonight, bare and smooth. He needed to hear that—it’s my part to play to keep him addicted to his kink. Think about it. He cums without touching himself because I tell him I love Jake. I find that massively exciting. It’s what we do, and we do it together. I asked him afterward if he wanted me to stop or even ease up. He said no—and that makes him the man of my dreams.