I wasn’t even trying that night. Just swiping for the hell of it. Matched with her almost instantly. Her name was Riley. Blonde, tatted, big tits, pouty lips, the whole package. Bio said she was married and looking for “someone who could really stretch her out.” No mystery what that meant.
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First message came from her.
“Hey, hope you don’t mind couples. My husband’s a watcher. I’m a size queen. If that’s not your thing, no hard feelings.”
I didn’t say a word. Just sent her a pic. Full length, no fluff, no filters.
Ten seconds later.
“Oh my fucking God.”
Followed by:
“Where do you live?”
We moved fast. Her husband texted me the details himself. Said he loved seeing her wrecked by a real man. Said he’d stay quiet and out of the way. His only ask was that I take my time and “really show her what she’s missing.”
They showed up two nights later.
She was even hotter in person. Short, maybe 5’3”, perfect hourglass shape, ass made to bounce, and tits she clearly loved showing off. Wore a tight little dress, no bra, no panties. Her husband trailed behind, carrying a bottle of wine like this was some polite dinner date.
We skipped the small talk.
She walked in and locked eyes with me. No hesitation. Stepped in close and whispered, “If it’s as big in real life as it looks in your pic, I might not walk right for a week.”
She pulled it out before I could answer. Dropped to her knees and just stared.
“Jesus,” she said. “It’s even thicker than I thought.”
I let her try her best. She couldn’t even get halfway. Gagged, pulled off, spit everywhere. Looked back at her husband.
“You really think you can compete with this?” she asked, laughing.
He didn’t respond. Just sat down in the chair like he’d been there before.
I bent her over the couch and eased in. Slowly. She was already shaking.
First stroke in, she screamed. No build-up, no acting.
“Oh my God, I can feel it in my fucking ribs.”
I started moving and she completely lost it. Moaning, babbling, scratching the cushions. Her husband sat across from us, rock hard, totally silent, watching his wife get absolutely ruined.
She came fast. Then again. Then again. Begged me to slow down. Then begged me not to stop.
After the third round, she collapsed. Couldn’t even sit up straight.
Her husband helped her to the bathroom. She was limping. Smiling. Said she had never felt this full in her life.
They left an hour later.
He shook my hand. She kissed my neck and whispered, “I need this again. Soon.”
Got a text this morning.
“She’s still sore. Still smiling. We’re booking a hotel next time. She wants to ride it in front of a mirror.”
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