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How she became Bill’s Lover [cuckold ] [m22 [f35]
he air between the three of them felt thick enough to choke on, the scent of coconut oil and chlorine suddenly overwhelmed by the musk of raw arousal. Wendy didn’t look away from Bill’s crotch, the heavy outline of his dick pressing against the wet fabric of his trunks. Her pussy throbbed, a hollow ache that demanded to be filled, and she knew exactly what she wanted to fill it. She shifted her weight on the lounge chair, the emerald-green bikini digging into her hips, and licked her lips, tasting the salt of the ocean and the sweetness of the piña colada
“Brian’s just in time,” Wendy said, her voice husky and breathless, cutting through the tension. She finally dragged her eyes up to Bill’s face, seeing the arrogance there, the pure unadulterated lust. “I was just telling Bill that I need a real man to take care of me.”
Brian’s jaw worked, a muscle twitching as he glanced between his wife and the young stranger. He didn’t leave. He stood there, rooted to the spot, his knuckles white around his plastic cup. Wendy saw the way his eyes darted back to Bill’s bulge, the way his breathing had shallowed. He was humiliated, yes, but he was also vibrating with a sick, twisted fascination.
“Let’s go to the room,” Wendy said, standing up slowly. She smoothed her hands over her hips, deliberately drawing attention to her curves. “Right now.”
Bill grinned, a predatory flash of white teeth. He stood as well, his height towering over her, his shadow casting a long, dark promise across the pool deck. “Lead the way.”
Wendy turned toward the path that wound through the resort gardens toward their bungalow, but she paused after only a few steps. She looked back at Brian, who hadn’t moved. “Are you coming, husband? Or are you going to stand there and let a stranger do your job for you?”
Brian swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and stumbled forward to follow them.
They walked. The heat of the midday sun beat down on their shoulders, but the heat radiating between them was far more intense. Wendy walked in the middle, her hand brushing against Bill’s thigh, feeling the hard muscle there. She could feel the power rolling off him, a dominant energy that made her knees weak. She wanted him to throw her down, to use her, to ruin her for anyone else. But first, she needed to see him break Brian. She needed to see her husband completely stripped of his dignity before she gave herself to this stud.
“You know,” Wendy started, her voice low enough that only the two men could hear over the rustle of the palm fronds, “Brian has always been a little soft. He tries to act tough, but deep down, he’s just a pathetic little boy who needs to be put in his place.”
Bill chuckled darkly, his hand sliding down to rest on the small of her back, possessive and firm. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely,” Wendy purred, stopping abruptly and turning to face them. They were in a secluded spot in the garden, surrounded by hibiscus bushes, hidden from the main path. She looked up at Bill with wide, pleading eyes. “I want you to fuck me, Bill. I want you to wreck me. But not until you make him submit.”
She pointed a manicured finger at Brian, who stood trembling slightly, his eyes fixed on the ground.
“I want you to dominate him,” Wendy commanded, her voice rising with excitement. “Show him what a real alpha looks like. Make him beg for it.”
Bill stepped closer to Brian, invading his personal space until their chests were almost touching. Brian flinched but didn’t back away. Wendy watched, her heart hammering against her ribs, her pussy soaking her bikini bottoms.
“Kick his balls,” Wendy whispered, the words filthy and sharp in the humid air. “Hard.”
Bill didn’t hesitate. He moved with the fluid grace of a predator, drawing his leg back and driving his foot squarely into Brian’s crotch.
The impact was sickeningly audible—a dull thud that resonated in the quiet garden. Brian’s eyes bulged, his mouth opening in a silent scream as his knees buckled. He crumpled to the ground, curling into a fetal position, clutching at his groin, his face turning a violent shade of purple.
Wendy gasped, a jolt of electric pleasure shooting through her clit at the sight of her husband writhing in the dirt. “Yes,” she hissed. “Do it again.”
Bill looked down at Brian with cold amusement. “You heard your wife, bitch. Stand up.”
Brian groaned, trying to catch his breath, his body shaking with the aftershocks of pain. He struggled to his knees, his hands still cupping his damaged balls, tears streaming down his face.
“Please,” Brian wheezed, his voice cracking. “Don’t…”
“Shut up,” Wendy snapped. She stepped closer, looming over him. “You don’t get to speak unless you’re begging him to fuck me.”
Bill reached down and grabbed a fistful of Brian’s hair, yanking his head back roughly. “You want me to stop?” Bill asked, his voice dangerously low. “Then you tell me exactly what she wants to hear.”
Brian choked out a sob, his eyes darting to his wife, who was watching with a ravenous, almost cruel expression. He saw the arousal flushing her chest, the way her nipples poked against the green fabric. He knew there was no escape.
Bill released Brian’s hair and instead reached down with his other hand, cupping Brian’s scrotum through his swim trunks. Brian flinched, anticipating another blow, but Bill just squeezed. He dug his fingers in, crushing the tender testicles between his strong fingers, twisting them mercilessly.
Brian shrieked, his back arching, his hands clawing uselessly at Bill’s wrist. “Stop! Oh god, please!”
“Say it,” Wendy demanded, stepping forward to rub her hand over Bill’s chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his skin. “Tell him to fuck me. Tell him you want to watch a real man take what’s yours.”
The pain was blinding. Brian felt like he was going to throw up, the agony radiating from his groin up into his stomach. But beneath the pain, beneath the humiliation, a dark, shameful spark ignited. He looked up at Bill, at the confident smirk, at the undeniable power he held, and then at Wendy, beautiful and terrifying in her lust.
“Fuck her,” Brian gasped, the words torn from his throat. “Please… fuck my wife.”
Bill squeezed harder, grinding his knuckles into the soft, swollen flesh. “Louder.”
“Fuck her!” Brian screamed, his voice cracking into a sob. “Bill, please! Fuck her! I need you to fuck her! I’m begging you!”
Wendy moaned, her knees nearly giving out. The sound of her husband’s broken pleas was the sweetest thing she had ever heard. She reached out and grabbed Bill’s hand, pulling it away from Brian’s crotch.
“Good boy,” she whispered to Brian, though her eyes were locked on Bill. “Now, take me to the room and finish what you started.”
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