I need to tell you all about how Shane is turning Scott into..

I need to tell you all about how Shane is turning Scott into this shadow of a man—a third wheel, a friend, and just a roommate. And fuck, it's so hot it makes my pussy ache just thinking about it. The way Shane's taking control, reducing Scott to nothing while claiming every inch of me, it's an addiction that I love and can't control my pussy. I'm gonna walk you through it, step by step, because the details of how this went down and how it makes me feel are everything.

So, I thought Shane would pick me up for a boating day, right? Just me and him, maybe some of his crew that he works with, out on the water. But then he calls me and drops this bomb: he wants Scott, my husband, to drive me to the boat ramp and drop me off. Like, he wants Scott to deliver me to him. Shane's exact words were that it'd "sink in" for Scott that I'm his now, not Scott's. At first, I hesitated. It felt brutal, humiliating Scott in front of all these people he works with, people who report to Shane just like he does. I mean, Scott's still my husband, technically, and I could picture how it'd crush him.

But then my body betrayed me. My clit started throbbing, getting so hard it was almost painful like it was screaming at me to do it. The idea of Scott handing me over to Shane, knowing Shane's been fucking me raw, filling every hole, breeding me whenever he wants, it flipped a switch. I couldn't stop picturing it, Scott's face as he realizes he's nothing compared to Shane, and me, dripping wet, ready to climb all over Shane's cock right there. So I turned to Scott, looked him dead in the eyes, and told him exactly what he would do. He pushed back, argued, and even flat-out refused at one point. But I wasn't having it. I told him if he didn't do this, I'd let Shane move into our house, and Scott could go live in the fucking RV out back. That shut him up real quick. Ten minutes later, he was driving me to the boat ramp, his hands gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles were white.

When we pulled up, it was a scene. Shane had all his crew there—at least 15 people, all guys working for him, like Scott. It was like a fucking audience, and I could feel the tension rolling off Scott. He tried to rush me out of the truck, probably hoping to peel out and disappear before anyone noticed him. But Shane wasn't having that either. He strolled up, all confident, his eyes locked on me like I was already his, and told Scott he needed him to help with the boat launch. Oh my God, the tension was so thick you could cut it. Here's Scott, my husband, being ordered around by the man who's been pounding my pussy, my ass, and my throat, leaving me satisfied in ways Scott never could. And Scott just stood there, quiet, his face burning red.

I leaned in and whispered to Scott that he better do what Shane says, or he'd regret it. He got out of the truck, moving like a man walking to his execution, while I slid out and Shane pulled me in close. Right there, in front of everyone—Scott, all his friends, the whole damn world—Shane kissed me. Not some quick peck, but a deep, hungry makeout session, his hands gripping my ass, his tongue claiming my mouth. We went at it for a minute or two, and I could feel every pair of eyes on us, especially Scott's. My pussy was so wet I was scared it'd soak through my shorts. I wanted to drop to my knees right there, yank Shane's shorts down, and suck the head of his thick cock until he was groaning my name. I wanted everyone to see how much I crave him, how I'd do anything to feel his dick stretching me out, filling me up. I wanted them to know I'm completely his in every way that matters.

But, yeah, I didn't do that. Not because I didn't want to—fuck, I did—but because it wasn't the time or place. There's a line, even for me, and blowing Shane in front of his entire crew would've crossed it. Instead, we launched the boat, Scott doing his part like a good little worker bee, head down, avoiding eye contact. When it was done, Shane walked over, patted Scott on the shoulder like he was dismissing a kid, and said, "You can go home now." The way he said it, so casual but so final, it was like a punch to Scott's gut. I could see the shame in Scott's eyes, and fuck, it turned me on even more. I swear I saw the outline of a shame boner in his pants, and it made my clit pulse, knowing he was so helpless, watching me slip away to Shane.

Shane grabbed my hand, his grip firm and possessive, and led me onto the boat. The whole day out on the water was pure heat. Shane kept me close, and now and then, he'd slide his fingers under my bikini bottoms, teasing my pussy until it was a swamp of girl jizz. My clit got so big and hard it was practically poking out like a mini dick, straining against the fabric. Every touch sent shivers through me, and I was so wet I could barely sit still. The crew was around, but Shane didn't care—he was showing me off, letting everyone know I was his woman. And I loved it. I'm old enough to be his mom, which makes it hotter. I'm his, and he's claiming me in front of the world.

When we got back to the dock, Shane didn't even hesitate. He took me straight to his place, and I stayed the night. That man's dick found its way into my guts, first through my pussy, then my asshole, stretching me, owning me. The orgasms he gave me were unreal, like my body was shattering and rebuilding itself around his cock. Nobody's ever fucked me like that, and I know it's so good because of the mental game. Shane is showing me off, replacing Scott a little more every day, it's like foreplay that never stops. I love seeing Scott's shame, knowing he's powerless as Shane takes me away. I love how everyone knows I'm Shane's, even with Scott in the picture. It's pure bliss, like a perfect marriage—except my man isn't my husband. And I wouldn't have it any other way.