She’s Different Since She Cuckolded You

She wasn’t like this before. You remember when she was shy about asking for anything too dirty. When she’d blush and hide her face if you talked about fantasies that went a little too far.

But that first night changed her.

When she took another man in front of you—truly took him, without shame, without apology—something inside her unlocked. She realized how powerful it felt to choose a lover while you just watched. She realized she loved seeing you squirm.

You see it now in everything she does. The way she dresses. Tighter skirts, low-cut tops, high heels she used to say were too much. She wants men to look. She wants to be seen as sexual, as available, as claimed by men who aren’t you.

You notice she’s bolder in conversation. She flirts without hesitation, eye contact unwavering, smiling in that slow, sultry way. She doesn’t glance at you for approval anymore. She knows she doesn’t need it.

And when you’re home alone, she teases you. She’ll lean in close and whisper, Remember when you thought you’d be the only one?

She’ll remind you of his cock. How big it was. How she felt when he stretched her. How wet she was even before he touched her.

She loves watching your face twist at that. She’s learned how to read you, how to play you like an instrument. You try to keep your cool, but you fail every time.

She remembers the first time she told you you’d never have her that way again. Never cum inside her again. The smirk on her face when she said it. You didn’t believe it at first. You thought it was just dirty talk.

But she meant it.

Now it’s routine. You use a condom if you’re allowed inside her at all. She lets you know it’s for you, not for her. Because she’ll take him raw. She’ll tell you she wants to feel every drop, and she wants you to know you can’t.

She’ll lie back on the bed after they’re done, legs spread, leaking with another man’s cum, and call you over.

Clean me.

She didn’t say that before.

You remember when you were her man, her only man, her provider. You thought you satisfied her. You thought you were enough.

She knows better now. And she’s making sure you do too.

She’s different since she cuckolded you because she learned she didn’t need to hold back. She doesn’t have to be a good girl anymore. She can be what she wants to be. A slut. A hotwife. A woman who knows men want her—and takes advantage of it.

She tells you about them. She knows you want to hear. Even if you pretend you don’t.

He fucked me so hard last night. I’m still sore. I think I’m going to see him again. Or maybe someone new.

She makes you ask questions. Did you cum for him? You know the answer. But you want to hear it.

Yes. Twice.

She used to fake it with you sometimes. Not with them. You don’t remember the last time she sounded like that with you.

But she wants you to know.

She’ll sigh, satisfied, tell you how good it feels to be used like that, how she loves being taken by men who don’t care about anything except their own pleasure.

And you’re there to watch. To listen. To clean.

You notice the changes in her body. She’s taking better care of herself. Eating better, working out more. She wants to be irresistible. Not for you. For them.

She’s different when she’s texting them. That sly smile, the way she bites her lip, the occasional giggle.

You see her excitement. The anticipation.

She used to be embarrassed about how wet she got. Now she shows you. Rubbing herself in front of you while she moans someone else’s name.

When she says she owns you now, you don’t argue.

Because you feel it.

You feel it when you jerk off alone to the memory of her legs wrapped around another man. You feel it when you’re hard and desperate, knowing she’s not going to let you inside her.

You feel it when you taste them on her. When she holds your head there and murmurs, Good boy.

You hate it. You love it.

And she knows.

That’s why she’s different. Because she knows she has you exactly where she wants you.

You remember how you used to tell yourself you’d never agree to this. You’d never share her.

Now you wonder how you ever thought you could keep her.

She’s better now. Happier. Freer.

She tells you about the plans she has. A regular lover or two. Maybe group nights. She wonders aloud what you’ll do while she’s busy.

She likes seeing you squirm at that.

She might pat your cheek, kiss your forehead like you’re her obedient little pet.

You’re not going anywhere. You know you can’t.

And she’s right.

She’s different since she cuckolded you.

And you’re different too.

You’re hers now. Completely.

She doesn’t have to ask for permission. She doesn’t even need to warn you anymore.

She knows you’ll be there. Watching. Waiting. Cleaning. Begging.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.