Cum eating husband has a bad habit now.

Cum eating was only the beginning for my poor husband. For those of you new readers tuning in to part three, my husband has the misfortune of having a tiny, little penis. It’s so small and sensitive that it can’t even make it to my hole before blowing its load sometimes. I threw away my years as a faithful wife at my own birthday celebration where my friends introduce me to some exquisite, black stallions that I was classy enough to get more acquainted with in the public bathroom at the back of the bar.  Sooo worth it.

There was no going back for me.

After tasting and feeling what a real man could do to my pussy, there was no way I was going to tolerate that two-inch disappointment ever again. I made every excuse in the book about why I was late getting home to my husband. Like the gullible fool he was, he bought my lies hook, line, and sinker. In fact, he felt so bad that my workload was so heavy that he insisted on eating my pussy when I got home.

Except my pussy was filled to the brim with thick, alpha shots!

Without knowing why he found my pussy irresistible, and he guzzled down my “oddly creamy” pussy juices every night. There was nothing I could do without either coming clean or refusing to be barebacked. There was NO way I was giving up bareback sex. However, as time passed, I was the one growing suspicious of him.  Sometimes I came home only to find him missing.  He was now the one going out late for ‘work-related reasons’. One night I followed him and ended up at a seedy bookstore. Entering in a few moments after him, I watched him disappear in the back.

“No,” I thought. “He isn’t.”

I raced to the back room and snatch open the door. He was. A cock as fat as my fist had his jaw locked in the open position. As I shouted his name, I watch his neck expand as hot jizz filled his throat.  Worst still, he swallowed it all as if it were pure instinct!  Each spurt disappeared into his gut until those horse balls were completely empty.

“Fuck yea! Same time next week, faggot,” his ‘customer’ said as he left the booth.

He gulped once more and said, “I found out what made your pussy taste so good, honey.”

“I see.  And next week?” I asked, crossing my arms.  “So this is a regular thing is it?”

My husband stared at me, red-faced and at a loss for words.  Cum was dripping from the corner of his mouth and the next cock was already poking in to be serviced.  Apparently, his skills were pretty popular because, as I peeked back out the doorway, I could see a line from next to his booth.

I give him a little smirk.  “Well? Are you going to get that?”

Thanks to me, my husband is now a cum eating faggot. Does this story ring a little close to home?  Call my phone sex line and tell me why.