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trophy wife

Being a Trophy Wife affords me a lot of fancy things. He has a good job and he pays me well to be his arm candy. But a woman still has needs, and his teeny weeny does not fill them.

I thought that I’d be able to make do with his small cock before I married him. Sex toys, jewelry, and a big old house should make up for the lackluster bedroom life. Diamonds may be a girl’s best friend, right? But I was wrong. Once all the new and shiny of my new life turned into a normal day today, I was feeling quite unfulfilled. I needed more.

Now, the best part about being a Trophy Wife is that it is easy to become a Trophy Mistress. My husband rubs elbows with lots of well-to-do’s with as much interest in keeping our trysts secret as I do. Much to my surprise, I have found that some of them are even well hung! What a relief for them to find someone interested only in sex. I don’t need a new baby daddy paycheck, more bracelets, or someone to blackmail.

TROPHY WIFE SEEKS MAN WITH BIG PACKAGE FOR A HARD FUCK

Let me tell you, I have never been so lucky as when I nailed my first of many secret fucks. That man is tall, handsome, and hung like a Clydesdale! He is a high roller in the political ring so we only get to meet on occasion. But when we do, I see fireworks and hear the Star-Spangled Banner! The clandestine nature of our meetings makes it even more exciting. Coded messages, secret service, extravagant disguises are like I’m banging James Bond. The good looking Bond, not that other fairy freak that plays him.

He has his own Trophy Wife, but I’ll tell you, I wouldn’t mind playing that role. But their life works for them. She leaves him to his own affairs, and he leaves her to her clam fests. They are both happy, and so are their powerful families who arranged the marriage.

My poor little dick of a husband knows exactly what’s happening when I leave the house. Long coat, wig, big sunglasses and the waiting limousine full of bodyguards makes it hard to hide. But what can he do? Nothing. Financially he cannot afford a divorce. Mama didn’t raise a fool, I insisted that there be no prenup. More to the point, though, he doesn’t want his partners and clients to know that he has a micropenis.

The good ‘ole boys down at the club are a Trophy Wife’s best line of defense when keeping her cuckold hubby in line. Fear of embarrassment far outweighs the monetary loss. So I get to keep it all. The diamond ring, the big house, the bank account, and my James Bond lover. He, on the other hand, gets to unload his tic tac sack while PSO’s laugh at his small cock. “No wonder your wife has to cheat on you. No woman would want that near her. You must have bought her a fancy house to convince her to stay with you.”