The front door clicked shut at 2:37 a.m., the soft sound reverberating through the quiet of their suburban home. Moira glided in, her heels tapping lightly on the hardwood floor, her curvaceous figure radiating heat from her night out. Her fiery red hair fell in loose, tousled waves, framing her flushed cheeks, and her emerald green dress clung to her voluptuous body—her full breasts, rounded hips, and shapely backside still tingling from Derek’s passionate touch. Her skin hummed with the afterglow of their encounter, her thighs slick with the evidence of his desire. In her purse, her phone held a few private photos—moments captured of her sprawled across Derek’s bed, his strong hands on her hips, his body claiming hers in a frenzy of lust.

Moira’s lips curved into a knowing smile as she slipped off her heels, the soft clack echoing her anticipation. She could already sense Kevin waiting, her devoted husband, his body aching in its steel chastity cage. Four weeks had passed since she last unlocked him, and the thought of his pent-up longing sent a shiver of delight through her core. Being a hotwife wasn’t just about the intense pleasure of her lovers—though Derek’s relentless passion had left her trembling—it was about the intoxicating power she held over Kevin, the way she could shape his desire to her will. It was a dance of control and surrender that made her feel alive, powerful, and revered.

She paused in the bedroom doorway, her eyes locking onto Kevin’s submissive form. He knelt at the foot of their king-sized bed, bare except for the gleaming chastity cage that confined him, the key dangling from a delicate silver chain nestled between her breasts. His lean frame trembled slightly, his eyes meeting hers with a potent mix of adoration, hunger, and surrender. Sweat glistened on his brow, his jaw tight, his hands clenched at his sides. He was hers, utterly and completely, and the sight of him so devoted sent a pulse of heat through her.

“You’re back late,” Kevin murmured, his voice soft but thick with need.

Moira sauntered toward him, her hips swaying with deliberate grace. “Derek wanted one last moment with me,” she purred, watching Kevin’s breath catch at the mention of her lover. “He took me again right before I left, Kevin. He wanted to make sure I came home with a fresh creampie for you to clean.” Her words were deliberate, teasing, and designed to stoke the fire of his submission. She saw the flicker of jealousy and arousal in his eyes, his caged body twitching in response. Being a hotwife fed her deepest desires, but it was Kevin’s willingness to embrace her pleasure, even at the cost of his own, that made their connection so profound.

She stood over him, close enough for him to catch the musky scent of her skin—her own sweet arousal mingled with Derek’s potent essence. Moira cupped his chin, her fingers firm as she tilted his face up. “Did you miss me, my sweet cuckold?”

“Yes, Moira,” he whispered, his voice trembling with devotion. “So much.”

Her smile was both tender and commanding, a reflection of the fierce love she felt for him. She cherished Kevin’s surrender, the way he offered himself to her desires, the way he craved her even when she returned marked by another man. “Get on the bed,” she ordered, her voice low and sultry. “Lie on your back.”

Kevin obeyed instantly, climbing onto the bed and lying flat, his caged form straining against its confines. Moira followed, straddling his chest, her damp panties inches from his face. She pulled the fabric aside, revealing her swollen, glistening folds, slick with Derek’s fresh release. The scent was heady, intimate, and Kevin’s eyes widened, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Look at me,” Moira said, her fingers spreading her lips to reveal the creamy evidence of Derek’s passion. “He filled me up, Kevin, right before I walked out the door. He wanted you to have every drop of him to taste. Do you want to clean me? Do you want to taste what he left inside me?”

Kevin let out a low moan, his hands clenching at his sides. “Please, Moira,” he begged, his voice raw. “Please let me.”

“Beg for it,” she commanded, her tone sharp with authority.

“Please, Moira,” he pleaded, his eyes locked on her glistening core. “Let me clean you, taste you, taste him. I want to make you happy.”

Her laugh was soft but triumphant. She lowered herself, hovering just above his mouth. “Go ahead, my love,” she said. “Clean me up.”

Kevin’s tongue plunged into her, lapping at the warm, sticky mess with fervent devotion. His muffled groans vibrated against her as he licked and sucked, savoring the blend of her sweetness and Derek’s salty release. Moira sighed, her hips grinding against his face, the sensation of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through her. The wet sounds of his efforts filled the room, mingling with her soft gasps. It wasn’t just the physical pleasure that thrilled her—it was the power, the knowledge that he was submitting to her in the most intimate way, worshipping her body and her choices.

“Good boy,” she murmured, her fingers tangling in his hair, guiding his mouth. “You love this, don’t you? Tasting another man’s release, knowing I’ve been claimed by someone else. It drives you wild.”

Kevin’s moans grew desperate, his tongue working harder, driven by his need to please her. Moira’s pleasure surged, fueled by the raw intensity of his submission. Being a hotwife was her essence—the freedom to indulge her desires, the thrill of reducing Kevin to a trembling vessel of devotion. It was a bond forged in trust, power, and love, one that made her feel like a deity.

As her climax built, Moira dangled the key from her neck, letting it sway above Kevin’s face. “Do you want out of your cage?” she teased, her voice breathy with arousal. “Do you want to feel me?”

“Yes, please,” Kevin gasped, his tongue pausing briefly. “Please, Moira.”

She smiled wickedly, grabbing a bottle of lube and a small vibrator from the nightstand. Straddling his thighs, she traced her fingers over the steel bars of his cage, feeling his body tremble. “You’ve been so good,” she said, her tone softening but still laced with control. “I think you’ve earned a moment of freedom.”

With a slow twist of the key, she unlocked the cage, sliding it off to reveal his aching erection, hard and pulsing with need. Kevin groaned, his hips twitching as the cool air hit his sensitive skin. Moira slicked her hands with lube and wrapped them around his shaft, stroking slowly, deliberately. His body arched, a strangled moan escaping his lips.

“Do not cum,” she said sharply, her eyes piercing his. “Not a single drop, Kevin. You know my rules. Disobey me, and you’ll stay locked for weeks.”

“Yes, Moira,” he panted, his face contorted with effort. His brow furrowed, his jaw clenched, sweat beading on his forehead as he fought to obey her. His erection throbbed in her hands, the veins standing out, his entire body trembling with the raw intensity of his restraint. Moira watched him, captivated by his struggle, the way his eyes pleaded with her even as he forced himself to comply. It was beautiful, the way he surrendered his body’s urges to her command, his love and devotion laid bare.

“You’re trying so hard,” she purred, her voice dripping with approval. “I can see it, Kevin—how desperately you’re fighting to please me. Your body’s screaming to let go, but you won’t, will you? Because I told you not to.”

“No,” he gasped, his voice breaking, his eyes locked on hers. “I won’t. For you.”

Her heart swelled with a mix of love and dominance, the power she held over him igniting her desire. She leaned down, kissing him deeply, letting him taste the lingering blend of her essence and Derek’s release on her lips. Then, unable to resist, she straddled his hips, guiding his erection to her entrance. Her core was still slick from Derek’s fresh release, and she sank down onto Kevin with a moan, enveloping him completely.

“Don’t cum,” she repeated, her voice firm as she began to ride him. “Hold it back, Kevin. For me.”

He nodded frantically, his face a mask of concentration, his teeth gritted, his hands clawing at the sheets. His body shook with the effort to obey, his erection pulsing inside her, every muscle taut with the struggle to please her. Moira rode him with purpose, her breasts bouncing with each thrust, her fingers working the vibrator against her clit. The sight of him fighting so hard, his face etched with desperation and devotion, pushed her toward another climax. She came with a cry, her body shuddering, her core tightening around him.

As her pleasure subsided, she slid off him, his erection still hard and glistening with her juices. “You don’t get to release tonight,” she said coolly, her smile wicked. “I want you aching for me, my love.”

Kevin let out a soft whimper, but his eyes shone with submission. “Anything for you,” he whispered, his voice raw with effort.

Moira reached for the chastity cage, its small, unyielding steel bars glinting in the dim light. His erection was unrelenting, thick and throbbing, the head flushed and leaking. Fitting it into the tiny cage would be a challenge, and she relished the control it gave her. “Time to lock you up,” she said, her voice low and commanding. She poured lube over his shaft, the cool liquid making him flinch, his hips jerking slightly. His arousal made the task daunting, his erection refusing to soften despite her orders.

“Stay still,” she instructed, her fingers gripping his shaft firmly, squeezing to reduce the swelling. Kevin’s breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, his face contorted with the effort of staying still, his eyes squeezed shut as she began the process. She pushed the head of his erection into the cage’s tight opening, the steel biting into his sensitive skin. His body tensed, a low groan escaping his lips as she forced the rigid flesh into the confining bars.

The cage was merciless, its small size designed to trap him completely, and Moira worked with deliberate precision, her fingers pressing and guiding, inch by agonizing inch. His erection fought her, swollen and unyielding, and she had to apply more pressure, her nails grazing his thighs as she pushed harder. Kevin’s hands clenched the sheets, his body trembling, a sheen of sweat covering his skin as she finally forced the last of his length inside. The base ring clicked into place, and she secured the lock with a sharp snap, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

Moira leaned back, her breath heavy, her eyes gleaming with triumph as she studied his caged erection, still straining against the steel, the skin flushed and taut. “Look at you,” she murmured, her fingers brushing over the cage, teasing the trapped flesh. “All locked up, desperate, and mine.”

She curled up beside him, her body warm and sated, her hand resting possessively on his caged form, feeling the heat of his trapped desire through the steel. “You were perfect,” she whispered, her voice softening with affection. “So strong, fighting to please me like that.” She kissed him deeply, her lips lingering, tasting the remnants of her essence and Derek’s release. Kevin’s body shuddered against her, his caged form twitching, his submission a tangible force that bound them together.

As they drifted toward sleep, Moira felt a profound sense of fulfillment. Being a hotwife was her life’s pulse—the freedom to indulge her desires with men like Derek, the thrill of Kevin’s unwavering devotion. It was the power of holding him in her thrall, his love and sacrifice amplifying her own sense of self. She might let him release next time, if his obedience continued to please her. For now, she savored the sight of him—locked, aching, hers—knowing his desire would only deepen, tying him to her in a way no other could match.