Yesterday I slipped away to the river at the base of the mountain. The air was warm and heavy, the kind that makes you move a little slower, savouring everything. The water, though? Icy. The kind of cold that makes you catch your breath when it first touches your skin. I perched on a sun-warmed rock, stretched out, and let the heat soak into me while the chill of the river licked at my toes.
It felt so good to just be. No rush. No distractions. And maybe that’s why my mind wandered a little.
I found myself thinking back to earlier this week. To Jay.
That photo he snapped of me keeps popping into my head, the way he looked at me, like he already knew he’d have me melting in his hands. It didn’t matter to him that my husband was watching, in that moment, I was his. Normally I gravitate to strong, tall Black men (there’s just something about them I can’t resist), but Jay, he surprised me in all the right ways. The way his hands explored every inch of me, the low growl in his voice when he said my name, his firm grip as he held me exactly where he wanted me… I didn’t stand a chance.
The memory felt almost as real as the sun on my skin. And while the river was ice cold, I couldn’t help but smile at the warmth curling low in my belly.
That photo? It’s just a glimpse. The calm before the storm. And between you and me… the storm was unforgettable.
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He held me close… but all I could think about was how it would feel if another man’s hands joined his. 👀
Would you be gentle with me… or make me beg?
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I regularly get questions asking how I started my cuckquean relationship with my fiancée, and often it's framed like the person believes there's a secret trick.
There is no secret; we were just on a long drive and started talking about our kinks & fantasies. We discovered where there was overlap, discussed the threat of jealously because there will be jealously, defined our boundaries, and then started looking for ways to live those fantasies.
Now we're having pretty great time.