Sometimes I catch myself staring at my wedding ring and wondering how something so beautiful can represent something so broken. Sawamura gave me this ring but he never gave me what I truly needed - real intimacy, raw passion, someone who actually wants to explore every inch of my body.

Now I have someone who ties my wrists to the bedposts and makes me beg for his cock while whispering how much he owns my dripping wet pussy. The contrast is almost poetic - from a husband who couldn't be bothered to touch me to a man who can't keep his hands off my thick thighs and plump ass.

Marriage certificates don't mean shit compared to the way he makes my entire body tremble when he's buried deep inside me. Real commitment isn't a piece of paper - it's the marks he leaves on my skin and the way my cunt still aches for him hours later.