I couldn’t believe the text I got that Friday night: “Come over. My wife wants a real bull tonight. I’ll just watch. Door’s unlocked.”

I was at their place in twenty minutes, cock already thickening in my jeans. The husband—let’s call him Mark—opened the door with a nervous grin, wearing nothing but boxers. His wife, Sarah, was waiting on the bed in the living room, completely naked, legs spread wide like an invitation. She was gorgeous: thick thighs, heavy tits, and a shaved, puffy pussy already glistening.

“Hi, bull,” she purred, eyes locked on the bulge in my pants. “My husband’s been begging me to get fucked properly for months. Tonight you own this pussy.”

Mark sat in the chair across from the bed, cock in hand, already leaking. “Just watch,” he whispered. “Don’t stop until she can’t take anymore.”

I stripped fast. My thick, veiny cock sprang out, rock-hard, the head already shiny with pre-cum. Sarah’s eyes widened. “Fuck… that’s bigger than his.”

I climbed on top of her first in missionary, pinning her wrists above her head. I didn’t tease. I slammed balls-deep in one brutal thrust. Her pussy was soaked, but still tight as hell around my girth. She screamed, back arching, tits bouncing. “Oh my god—he’s splitting me!”

I fucked her like an animal—deep, nasty strokes that made her squelch loud with every plunge. Her juices were already dripping down my balls. Mark was stroking faster, eyes glued to where my cock disappeared inside his wife. I leaned down and growled in her ear, “Tell your husband how much better this bull cock feels.”

“Better… so much fucking better!” she wailed. “He’s wrecking my married pussy!”

I pounded her missionary for a solid forty minutes, sweat pouring off us, the bed creaking like it might break. Every time she got close I slowed just enough to edge her, then slammed harder. Her legs were shaking, toes curled.

Then I flipped her. “Ass up, slut.”

Doggy. I grabbed her hips and drove back in, even deeper now. The sound was obscene—wet slaps, her moans turning into broken sobs of pleasure. I spanked her ass red, pulled her hair, and railed her so hard her knees gave out. Mark was whimpering in the corner, “She’s never made those noises for me…”

I kept destroying her doggy for another half hour, balls slapping her clit, my thumb circling her tight little asshole just to make her clench harder around me.

By the time I pulled out she was a shaking mess, pussy gaping, creamy white girl-cum coating my entire shaft.

“Now ride me,” I ordered, lying back.

Sarah climbed on like she was possessed. She sank all the way down until my cock kissed her cervix, then started bouncing—hard, desperate, tits flopping wildly. Her pussy made the wettest, filthiest noises I’ve ever heard. I reached up and pinched her nipples while she rode, telling her exactly what a dirty married whore she was for taking strange cock in front of her husband.

Mark was panting, “She’s going to squirt… she never squirts for me…”

I felt it building—her walls fluttering, getting impossibly tighter. I grabbed her hips and thrust up to meet every bounce. “Cum on my cock, baby. Drench your bull.”

She exploded. A huge, hot gush of squirt sprayed out around my shaft, soaking my abs, my balls, even the sheets. She kept riding through it, screaming, another wave shooting out every time I bottomed out. Mark came in his hand just watching.

But I wasn’t done. Not even close.

I threw her onto her back again, shoved her legs behind her head, and buried my face between her thighs. “Time to clean up what you made, you beautiful little squirter.”

I locked my mouth on her wrecked pussy and devoured her—tongue fucking deep, sucking her swollen clit, slurping every drop of her cum and squirt. She was so sensitive she tried to push my head away, but I pinned her down and ate her like a starving man. Non-stop. For another full hour.

My tongue never left her cunt. I licked, sucked, and tongue-fucked her through orgasm after orgasm until she was babbling, crying, and shaking uncontrollably. Her pussy kept gushing—clear girl-cum spraying across my face, dripping down my chin, running into my beard. I didn’t stop. I drank it all, face completely drenched, eyes locked on hers while her husband watched in stunned silence.

“Gonna… gonna cum again—fuck—on your face!” she screamed.

She exploded one last time, thighs clamped around my head, a massive flood of hot cum spraying directly into my open mouth and all over my face. I kept licking through it, swallowing what I could, letting the rest coat me like a badge. My beard was soaked. My cheeks glistened. I looked up at her with a wicked grin, face dripping.

“Still not done,” I growled.

We fucked for three more hours straight—every position, every hole I wanted. I came inside her twice, pulled out and painted her tits once, then made her lick me clean while Mark watched from the corner, spent and leaking. By the end Sarah was a limp, cum-drenched wreck, pussy swollen and ruined, face flushed, whispering “Thank you, bull… thank you…”

Mark just stared, voice hoarse: “Same time next weekend?”

I wiped her cum off my face with two fingers, sucked them clean, and smirked.

“Tell your wife to be ready. I’m bringing rope.”