Watching Her Kneel Between His Legs: A Steamy Sports Hotwife Cuckold Romance

I keep telling myself that holding the elevator for Vivian changes nothing. Ulric watches from the lobby every time she steps in, and my old injury aches with the memory of every shortfall. I hold the door anyway. My quiet intensity has always hidden the hunger I refuse to name, the one that grows sharper each time we risk the training facility's shadowed corridors for a touch that could cost the championship.

The championship hangs by a thread if he decides to expose our stolen moments in the equipment rooms, yet the real threat is how my quiet fear of never measuring up keeps pulling me toward the sight of her kneeling between his legs.