I'm putting this on record for you, worthless cuckold, so you understand exactly how it happened. She said it right to my face: "you fuck me like a man, unlike him," and I watched her whole body shudder as she admitted the truth. I fucked her in your bedroom, on your own bed, with her face buried in the pillow while she screamed my name, panting with pleasure, her fingers digging into the sheets. Then she looked at your wedding photo, smirked, and began sucking my cock right there in front of your vows. I fucked her face in your wedding album. She gasped, clawed, howled like a bitch who knows she isn't yours anymore. Every day I write down which position made her moan the loudest, what she said when she came, how she begged me to let her use her mouth while you just stood there as a silent provider. Every day I dream up a new way to humiliate you: tomorrow I'll bend her over the kitchen table where you ate your pathetic dinner and pound her so hard her legs shake while she begs me not to stop. I'm her husband, her master, and you're only paying for her orgasms. Say it until it breaks you: "I'm her husband. You're just helping pay."