We had set this date up last week. The guys name was John, and the 11 inches he was packing had my mouth watering. When his car pulled up I was practically dripping down my leg making my poor cuckolds pant leg wet. “Excited to meet your real man honey?” “Almost as excited as you.” I said as I felt his puny 3 inch cock poke my ass. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Once he was inside and pleasantries were exchanged, it was all business afterwards. He threw me over his broad shoulder like I was a feather and walked me into my room.

I loved every part of it, the loss of power, the way it made me feel weak and small beneath him. John was a monster and I was all his – he owned me and reminded me of that with every touch. Once I was on that bed I was all over his pants, desperate to have his cock in my throat. I ripped his boxers off only to have his rod slap me on my chin, I held it gently amazed by the weight of it.

Boy I tell you what, he wrecked me; John was so deep inside of me I felt him in my stomach, and through every thrust, and every moan, my limp dick husband watched enthralled by us. He split me wide open almost to the point of pain. I was so full and couldn’t get enough. I was a twitching hyperventilating mess when he filled me full of his cum, and like a good little cuckold my husband was on my twat to suck every sweet drop out.

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