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Becca milked me, running her thumb along my fat underside vein and lapping up the dregs of my semen. Then she bent lower, kissing and tonguing my sack.
“Put my dick in your mouth and leave it there,” I told her.
There’s a name for everything. This practice is often referred to as cockwarming – making your partner hold your cock in their mouth – or any other hole – casually for a long period of time. I was a big fan. Hanging out, a girl nursing on my cock while she sat on her phone or read. Or sleeping with your cock nestled inside her, something reserved for big dicks. You had to be able to impale a girl who was on her side. Guys like Becca’s husband would just fall out.
We hung out like that for the better part of an episode of Law and Order: SUV, which, for perverts like us that show is basically softcore porn. When Becca tried say something, I held her down and looked over at David.
“Give me her phone.”
David looked around, then called it to discover Becca had left it in the Kitchen. He went and got it, handing to his wife while she laid on her side with my dick in her mouth, before sitting back down next to me. Becca shuffled to suckle on me while she sent a text. I dug my phone to read it.
Can I use the bathroom and smoke? She asked.
Becca was starting to sober up, which meant stirrings guilt and remorse were awakening. Women also suffered from post-nut clarity.
“Yes you may,” I told her.
Becca pulled her mouth off me and practically ran off, pulling up her yoga pants. A minute later a cloud Cheech and Chong would have been proud of drifted from the Kitchen. She came back into the room and took up her wine glass before cuddling up next to me. I threw my free arm around her, spread out like a king between husband and wife.
“Did you have dinner, Jay?” Becca asked. “David could go get you something. I’m not much of a cook.”
“I don’t like to fuck on a full stomach,” I replied.
On hearing that, Becca gulped down the rest of her wine.
My cock was already waking back up. There’s something about that first night with a new lover. I turn into a satyr, tireless and insatiable. In a 24 hour period, six times was the average. I have no idea where my body summons the reserves of semen from.
“Take out your tits, slut.”
Becca gasped slightly at my words, my tone. She set her wine glass on the table, then pulled her tight top off entirely. I lowered the arm I had around Becca’s shoulder to her breast, pulling her closer. I helped myself to her tits, groping as if I were taking my own pleasure from mauling them rather than trying to please her. Becca liked it anyway, gasping and letting out small, sharp moans.
Her implants were a work of art. Whenever I ran into a women with fakies, I always test her nipple sensitivity. Becca’s nipples hardened into little bullets as I pinched and pulled on them. I turned towards her and gathered a handful of hair near her pony tail, twisting my grip to expose her neck.
I ran my lips and nose along her neck, taking in her scent. Women smell different when they are worked up, particularly just below the ear. I sunk my teeth into that spot, sucking gently, then repeated the motion at the nape of her neck as I rolled her nipple between my fingers. Becca arched as I bore down with my teeth.
Ah, the lost art of giving a hickey. Back before college, it was the teenage version of a class ring, a sign you were taken. I liked to leave my mark on a wife: finger marks from where I dug into her flesh. Bite marks. A reddened behind. And yes, a nice, purple welt on her neck, not only as a reminder to her husband, but a violet letter to everyone who saw her out in the world. Though they would assume it had been David, Becca would know different.
I released my teeth from Becca’s neck and stared into her eyes. They were glossed over, partly from the wine and weed, and partly from being swept away. As our eyes met, she fought against my grip, moving her lips towards mine.
With couples, kissing a Bull is often seen as more intimate than sucking his cock. A Bull is often a sexual mercenary. A male whore who is paid in pussy. Crossing the intimacy line into affection was a step too far for a lot of couples.
But apparently not for Becca and David. Or Becca, at least. She issued a little needy plea as she strained towards my lips. I held her firm and bridged the gap. I kiss girls, they don’t kiss me. Like everything else, kissing was a skill. Technique was involved. It was about sending a signal. Girls want to feel your hunger for them. They want to feel taken. I bent her under me, leaning down, and crushed my mouth into hers, then met her tongue. Becca liked using her tongue when she kissed. A little too much for my taste. I prefer small swipes, not getting into a fencing match.
I stood, our lips still locked. Becca stretched to stay in contact, but couldn’t defeat the grip I had in her hair. When I pulled away, she stared up at me. The need in her eyes was all consuming.
“Time to fuck that married pussy,” I said. Standing over them, I forced Becca face down onto the couch. “Get your fucking ass in the air, slut.”
Becca adjusted, folding her arms under her and pushing her hips high. The yoga pants weren’t just for comfort. Her arch was impressive. Still standing, I tugged her pants down roughly, just enough to expose her.
“Let’s see that pussy,” I said, picking her up by the hips and angling her so her ass faced me standing in front of the couch and her head faced David. I smirked at him over Becca’s back and examined his wife.
Becca was waxed smooth. Her glistening pussy looked like a hothouse flower, petals spread and begging for entry. Her little butthole gaped slightly, with the faint signs of stretching that came with dedicated ass play. That was good. I was not a starter size, should I decide to fuck that firm butt.
I started to rub my cock into Becca’s folds, smearing her wetness and my precum together while grinding into her hood with the fat, soft mushroom head. Becca loosed pitched moans while trying to back her pussy onto me. I cracked a hand against her round ass.
“Hold still, whore.”
Becca whimpered, but complied. She was so worked up, wet strands stretched from her pussy to my cockhead. I fit the tip to her entrance and pushed into her.
She was so open and wet that without intending to, I sunk several inches deep. Our fit was extreme: Becca was angled downward and I curved upward. As I eased deeper, the underside of my thick shaft rubbed into the sensitive spot on her front wall while the head ground in its way along her back wall. Becca let out a deep moan of release as she came, her pussy gushing.
“Uuhhhnnngn!”
I stared David down as I filled his wife in one long, slow stroke. Usually, I had to work my way in, withdrawing to lubricate the way as I forced a woman’s walls to part. But every girl was built differently, and some were size queens out of necessity. Becca’s pussy was open and deep. It took someone of my girth to stretch her out. And that sensation was breaking her brain.
“Your…uuhhngn…fucking…head….uuhhhhn….feels so fucking gooood…uuhhhn!”
I looked at her husband smugly as I hilted myself, my heavy sack pressing into Becca’s hood. “What’s wrong, Becca? Not used to real cock?”
“Nooooo…” Becca replied.
I have this little trick. I tense the muscles in my taint area, sort of a male version of Kegels. It causes my cock to throb huge, as if I were unloading. In fact, many girls have mistakenly thought I was cumming, only to have me throb again and again, pulsing inside them like a second heartbeat. I did that now, buried balls deep in Becca.
It drove her wild.
“Oh. My. God. What….uuuhhnnngn!”
Becca came again, her walls tensing around my hilted girth. It wasn’t often I didn’t find a girl’s cervix when balls deep, but the angle was all wrong. Next time, if there was a next time, I resolved to touch the end of Becca.
Once her climax passed, I started to thrust, using slow, hard strokes. Withdrawing until only my head was inside Becca, then hammering in balls deep with a wet smack. I kept that steady rhythm, creating an anticipation. Our bodies smacked together over and over, slamming Becca’s head into her husband as I pulled her hips into me. My sack slapped into her hood again and again. Each time I buried myself, Becca cried out. Having emptied my balls down her throat earlier, I was in no hurry to finish. Time disappeared as I drilled into Becca relentlessly.
I stopped counting how many times she came. I had gone three weeks without a woman. But Becca had gone six months without a real cock, and that one didn’t compare to mine. It brought up the question of how many cocks she had taken. It was solid humiliation material. I filed it away. Now wasn’t the time. Becca wasn’t coherent enough to answer.
I heard the DUN DUN of another Law and Order episode starting. We’d been going at it an hour. I still hadn’t worked tonight and it was an hour drive back to my room. I decided it was time to wrap things up. When sex was more mental than physical, it was all about thinking the filthy thoughts that sent you over the edge.
I started to think about how I was balls deep in a married woman I barely knew. Literally slamming her into her husband. Stretching her in a way he never could. I was deeper inside her than he had ever been, in a place that belonged to me alone. And now I was going to seed her. David was going to watch his react to my huge cock pumping cum into her womb. The thought of him staring into Becca’s face as her eyes rolled back, lids fluttering was intensely hot. A face he had never seen. An expression only I had ever forced out of her.
I grunted as I started to drive in faster. Becca sensed what was coming and pushed towards me. I grabbed a handful of hair at the base of her pony tail, pulling Becca’s head back so her husband could see her face.
I buried myself, grinding my sack into her hood. There was a still moment, then my cock swelled and spit a thick stream into Becca’s cervix. Becca yelped at the sensation, then unleashed a long moan of deep satisfaction and relief as I sent blast after blast of rich seed deep into her.
“Ahhh! Aauhnnnn….fuuuuck…”
I stayed buried as my cock softly throbbed. After I had partially softened, I withdrew slowly, suddenly sensitive, and stepped away to admire my work. My balls were dripping with Becca’s juices, my cock coated with her foamy cream. Becca’s yoga pants were absolutely soaked. I stood on wobbly legs, considering their fantasy.
What Becca and David wanted was a casual home invasion. Someone to come in like he owned the place. Like he owned them. To take what he wanted. Which also meant when the invader got what he wanted there was no reason to hang around.
I slapped Becca hard on the ass. “Thanks for the ride, slut.”
I put myself away, scooped up my coat, and walked out without looking back. In the reflection of the windows, I saw David get up and take my place behind Becca….then lower his mouth to her battered, flooded pussy.
The drive back to my room in Islip was brutal. I was too wiped out to work. I raided the fridge and went straight to bed. The next day was brutal. I skipped my workout to write files and spent the day meeting with clients, my aching legs feeling like I had run a marathon. As I was driving home, I got a text from Becca. I waited until I was back in my room to answer.
Becca: Last night was soooo good.
Jay: Yes, it was.
Becca: I was actually sore today. That’s never happened before.
Jay: You’re welcome.
Becca: I can still feel you. I swear your cum is still dripping out of me.
Dying for a shower, I didn’t answer immediately. There was a text waiting when I came out.
Becca: Can you come by tomorrow night?
As much as I wanted to make Becca a nightly thing, I was in New York to make money. Devoting three or four hours driving back and forth to use Becca was going to cost me thousands. And I couldn’t have her coming to me. It wasn’t cool to force my landlady to listen to me hammering away at a married woman yelling her head off in pleasure.
Jay: As much as I want to, I’m here to work. It’s a hike from Islip to Sag Harbor. Once a week is all I can manage.
It was Becca’s turn to take time to respond. An hour went by, and I was starting to think that was that. No woman wanted to hear she wasn’t worth the drive. Ladies are sensitive to rejection. Mainly because they aren’t used to it.
Then a text came in.
Becca: Why don’t you come stay with us? We’d love to have you.