Couple

She watched me as I ran my hands over her husband’s body, and I realized that massage wasn’t going to end like any other.

When I saw the handcuffs on the bed, I knew I wasn’t going to sleep that night: I was going to discover how much losing control turned me on.

When my boyfriend showed me the woman he’d cheated with, I was already too wet to pretend I wanted to leave.

When we entered her house, my partner still thought she was going to put my psychologist in her place; five minutes later, neither of us was in charge.

I thought I’d only be watching them sleep, but that woman had such control over him that I ended up glued to the screen all night.

I opened the door without panties, let him watch me all night, and ended up so wet I could barely hide it.

I entered the hammam holding my husband’s hand and came out trembling, soaked, and with an image in my head that still turns me on.

I was immobilized in bed when a fake nurse entered at dawn, locked the door, and told me she had come to care for me in her own way.

I heard them fucking in our bed until dawn, but the worst part wasn’t hearing her moan with him—it was discovering what I wanted too.

I closed the curtain to try on a dress and ended up drenched, my back to the mirror, watching his erection outgrow his trousers.

During the week I needed another cock, and that Saturday I turned a fight with my husband into the perfect excuse to fulfill my dirtiest fantasy.

I tied his wrists so I could take charge for the first time, but as he obeyed, I discovered that the real control wasn't mine.

When we saw the erection outlined beneath his swimsuit as he came out of the water, I knew that cove wasn’t going to end with a simple beer.

When she took off her bikini in front of strangers, I knew watching the sea wouldn’t be enough for me.

When she came home with tousled hair and a smile that wasn’t meant for me, I knew our kitchen pact had passed the point of no return.

She squeezed my hand under the table when he brushed her thigh again, and I knew we wouldn’t be sleeping alone that night.

We never made it to the hotel: the moment we saw the empty alley, I knew he was going to fuck me right there against the wall.

I left the bathroom still wet between my legs, and he knew from my face that remembering other men had left me trembling.

We had spent years teasing him from the sand, but that afternoon my wife spread her legs wider, and I knew he wouldn’t be staying just to watch.

When she opened the apartment door and looked us up and down, I understood that our fantasy was no longer just dinner-table talk.