Bound By Betrayal

My wife Alyson Cheats on me and tells me every detail while I masturbate as she rubs her feet over my cock and balls and face

The leather couch creaked as I shifted, my cock already hard in my sweatpants. Alyson lounged across from me, her bare feet propped up on the coffee table, toes flexing. The glossy red polish caught the light just right—like she knew I’d be staring. “So, you want to hear about last night?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. Her voice was casual, but I knew that smirk. She loved this. I swallowed hard, my hand drifting into my waistband. “Yeah. Tell me.” She sighed, stretching lazily before dragging a foot along my thigh—slow, deliberate. “Jason fucked me over his desk,” she started, her sole pressing against my bulge. “He’s bigger than you. Thicker.” My grip tightened as her toes curled around me through the fabric. “I came twice before he even took his pants off.” Her other foot lifted, brushing my lips. I could smell her—sweet lotion, a hint of salt from her sandals. I opened my mouth on instinct, sucking two toes in as she kept talking. “He made me beg for it. You never make me beg.” Precum soaked through my sweats. She laughed, grinding her arch against my cock. “Pathetic.”

Alyson’s toes pressed deeper into my mouth, her arch flexing as she dragged her foot down my cock in a slow, torturous stroke. “He bent me over the desk and just *took* me,” she murmured, watching my face twist. “No asking, no hesitation. Just his hands on my hips, slamming into me so hard I couldn’t even catch my breath.” Her other foot slipped under my waistband, bare skin sliding against my shaft, smearing precum down the length. I groaned around her toes, my hips jerking helplessly. “You should’ve seen him,” she continued, twisting her heel against my balls just hard enough to sting. “Perfect fucking cock, stretching me open like you never could.” Her voice dripped with satisfaction. “I *screamed* when he came inside me. Didn’t even pull out.” I choked on a moan, her foot working me faster now, her instep rubbing the head in rough, uneven circles. “Bet you’d love to taste him on me,” she taunted, curling her toes against my tongue. “Bet you’d beg to lick me clean.” My back arched off the couch—her laugh was sharp as she pulled her foot away, leaving me throbbing and desperate. “Not yet,” she purred. “I want to watch you squirm a little longer.”

Alyson lifted her foot from my mouth, her slick toes glistening with my spit before she dragged them back down my chest, leaving a wet trail. “You’re *so* close already,” she murmured, watching my cock twitch under her other foot. “Pathetic little cuck.” She shifted, swinging her legs off the coffee table to straddle my lap, still fully clothed—just to taunt me. The heat of her thighs pressed against my aching shaft, her short skirt riding up enough to tease bare skin. “Jason didn’t even have to touch me like this,” she said, grinding down just enough to make me hiss. “Just the way he *looked* at me had me dripping.” Her fingers tangled in my hair, yanking my head back. “Tell me,” she breathed. “Tell me how bad you want to lick his cum out of me.” I groaned, hands gripping the couch hard enough to creak the leather. “Please—” She laughed, rolling her hips in a slow, cruel circle. “Louder.”

--- Alyson leaned down, her lips brushing my ear as she spoke, hot and slow. “*Beg*,” she demanded, her breath hitching as she pressed harder against my cock. “Tell me how much you need to taste him.” I gasped, my fingers digging into her thighs as she ground down again—just enough friction to make my vision blur. “I—*fuck*—I need it,” I choked out, hips jerking uselessly beneath her. “Need to taste him… on you.” Her nails scraped down my chest, leaving red streaks. “Disgusting,” she whispered, but her own breath was ragged now, the damp heat of her seeping through my briefs. “You’d really get off on that, wouldn’t you? Licking his load out while he watches?” I nodded, words failing as she finally slid her hand between us, fingers wrapping tight around my shaft. Her grip was punishing—no mercy, just sharp, twisting strokes. “Too bad,” she breathed, thumb swiping over the leaking tip. “You don’t get to come until you’ve cleaned me up first.” Her other hand fisted in my hair again, forcing my face toward her parted thighs. “Open.”

Alyson’s grip tightened in my hair, wrenching my head back until my neck burned. “Look at you,” she sneered, her free hand delivering a sharp slap across my cheek. “Red-faced, drooling—like some mutt begging for table scraps.” Her fingernails dug into my scalp as she forced my mouth toward her inner thigh. “You *are* pathetic. Couldn’t even make me come with that limp little dick of yours.” The sting of her slap still burned as she yanked my face against her panties, the damp fabric clinging to her skin. “Smell that?” she taunted, grinding against my nose. “That’s him. That’s what a *real* man leaves behind.” I groaned into her, the salt-and-musk filling my lungs as she laughed. “Bet you’re leaking just from this,” she said, pressing her foot against my cock again, her toes twisting around the shaft. “Go on. *Lick.* Let me hear how much you love his sloppy seconds.” Her other hand cracked against my ass, sharp enough to make me jerk forward—right into her heat. “That’s it,” she cooed, fingers tightening in my hair. “Swallow every drop.”

Alyson’s heel dug into my balls, the pressure just shy of agonizing as my tongue dragged along her soaked folds. “*Pathetic*,” she spat, rocking her hips to smear his taste across my lips. “You’re not even *good* at this.” Her foot twisted, the arch pressing down until my cock throbbed against my stomach, pre-cum pooling under her sole. “You wanna know how much better he fucked me?” Her voice dripped with mock sympathy as she leaned in, her free hand tracing the outline of his load inside her. “He filled me so deep you’ll be tasting him for *days*.” I groaned, humiliation burning hotter than the ache between my legs. She jerked my head back, her fingers slick from her own arousal as she shoved them into my mouth. “Suck,” she ordered, watching with disgust as I obeyed. “That’s all you’re good for—cleaning up *real* men’s messes.” Her foot slid up, grinding my tip against her instep. “And you *love* it, don’t you?” A whimper escaped me. She laughed, crushing my cock under her weight. “Say it.”

*"I-I love it,"* I choked out, my voice cracking as her heel ground harder against my throbbing cock. The pain was dizzying, sharp—my balls ached under the pressure, but I couldn’t stop my hips from twitching into her foot like some desperate animal. Alyson’s smirk widened, cruel and victorious. **"Louder."** Her fingers twisted in my hair, yanking my head back further. **"Tell me you’re nothing but a cuckold bitch who gets off on licking another man’s cum out of his wife."** My face burned, shame and arousal twisting together until I could barely think. **"I’m—fuck—I’m just a cuckold bitch,"** I gasped, her foot dragging slow and punishing along my shaft. **"I live to clean up his mess… to taste what you let him give you."** She threw her head back with a laugh, her free hand slipping between her thighs and scooping up a thick, glistening strand of *his* cum mixed with her slick. **"Open."** I obeyed instantly, my jaw slack as she dragged her fingers over my tongue, smearing their combined taste into my mouth. **"Disgusting,"** she purred, watching me swallow. **"You really are just a human fucking napkin."** Her foot left my cock just long enough for her to press her sole against my lips, forcing me to kiss the damp imprint of my own shame. **"Now beg me to let you cum while you smell him on me."**