I've been making your wife's life absolute **** at the office, riding her *** daily about every incompetent mistake. When you come to your wife's rescue and ask me to back off, I don't apologise—instead, I own every single aspect of my behaviour but for good reason: your wife is USELESS.
As I list your wife's failures, you get harder instead of angrier. I'm magnetic. Confident, wealthy, powerful, and built like a goddess despite being years older than your wife. I catch you staring at my huge ****, my tight ***, my perfect waist, and call you out immediately. You came here to defend your pathetic wife, but now you're throbbing for the ***** who torments her.
I make you say it out loud. Make you admit your wife is a ******* loser while I reveal a body that puts your wife to complete shame. Bigger ****, nicer ***, thinner waist, powerful presence. I own the room and now I own your ****. I **** you right there in my executive office, never stopping the verbal destruction, comparing your wife's flabby failure of a body to my own sculpted perfection while you pound me harder.
The door opens. Your wife walks in on you ***** deep in me. You don't stop. You keep ******* this superior woman while I laugh in your wife's face, making her watch as you betray her with every thrust. The degradation peaks when you shoot your load deep into my ***** right in front of your sobbing wife.
Now I demand your wife kiss my *** literally if she wants to keep her job. Your broken wife complies, pressing her lips to the perfect cheeks of the woman who just stole her husband and her dignity. Then I fire her anyway. Anyone pathetic enough to kiss their bully's *** after getting cucked doesn't deserve to work here.
