My wife has explored the lifestyle with many bulls over time, and I’ve only met a handful in person. Some barely acknowledged me, while others engaged directly. This is the story of Chris—undoubtedly my least favorite bull.
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We first met Chris at the bar where my wife works. He was a regular—a tall, muscular white guy, not a gym-obsessed type but fit, with an average build and a thick cock. From the moment she introduced him into our lives, he made it his mission to break me down.
“Hey honey, this is Chris. He’s going to be fucking me tonight,” she said with a casual grin.
Chris looked me up and down. “So this is the cocksucker married to you, huh?” he asked with a smirk, catching the expression on my face before breaking into a grin. “Ah, just messing with you, bro.” He gave my arm a playful, but firm punch and extended his hand for a shake.
I asked my wife quietly, “Do you want me in there?”
Chris answered before she could, “Fuck yeah. Come watch what a real man can do.”
I followed them into the bedroom, catching sight of him slapping and pinching my wife’s ass as they laughed their way toward the bed. He swiftly undressed her and settled onto the mattress. She straddled him, sinking into his lap as they kissed passionately. Chris cupped her ass, spreading her cheeks and sliding his fingers easily into her slick folds.
He traced kisses teasingly down her neck to her breasts, sucking deeply on her nipples while locking eyes with me as she moaned. Then, without missing a beat, he commanded, “Cuck, come take my boots off.”
I knelt behind my wife and carefully unlaced his worn work boots, sliding them off to reveal his sweaty toes. He then raised one foot and pressed it under my nose, swiping my lips with it playfully. “Oops, sorry about that,” he quipped, grinning down at me while gripping my wife’s head and nibbling her neck.
My wife, barely able to contain herself, hopped off his lap and started pulling at his pants. Chris caught her wrist and said firmly, “No, let him do it.” Surprised yet turned on, she turned to me.
I dropped to my knees in front of Chris and grabbed the sides of his boxers. As he lifted his hips slightly, I tugged them down enough to reveal his cock, which slapped my chin with an unmistakable weight and girth.
He grabbed himself and stroked while leaning closer. “You like this cock? It’s probably twice the size of yours. Want to see me make your wife cum with it?”
I swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“No, say it.”
“I want to see you make my wife cum on your cock.”
“Not good enough. Ask me nicely.”
“Will you please fuck my wife?”
“Beg me for it.”
This was precisely why I despised him. He was jerking off inches from my mouth, forcing me to beg for the right to watch him take my wife. My cock was rock hard, pressing brutally against the fabric of my underwear. He knew exactly how to humiliate me—and in under half an hour, he’d turned me into his submissive plaything. And cruelly, I loved every second.
“Will you please gape my wife’s pussy with your thick meat and breed her? I’ll do anything.”
“Much better. Now get the fuck out of the way.”
As my wife moved to straddle him again, Chris surprised us both by lifting her and laying her flat on the bed. He raised her legs and dove between them, lapping at her pussy while she worked her clit with her fingers. Her moans grew louder, her orgasm approaching, when he shot me a glance. “Hey cuck, why don’t you make sure I’m lubed up too?” he said, sliding his cock back behind him so I could reach it.
Kneeling behind him, I found his cock dripping with precum and eagerly flicked my tongue to catch the wetness. Pulling his foreskin back, I worked the head with my mouth, making him moan deeply into my wife’s slick folds. I could hear her breath hitch as her climax built, until she finally shattered into ecstasy—moaning, squealing, and trembling beneath him.
Chris yanked his cock from my mouth and pressed her legs back higher, aiming himself squarely at her drenched pussy before slamming in hard. There was no mercy in his rhythm: long, deep, frantic strokes. He pushed her legs as far back as he could and buried himself balls deep, holding his cock inside her as he stared down into her eyes and kissed her lips, folding her into a helpless pretzel beneath him.
He flipped her onto her side and lifted one leg. “Cuck, come here and take care of your wife. Make sure she’s okay—I’m going to destroy her now.”
I moved next to her, gently stroking her face as she winced from the relentless pounding. I kissed her softly, whispered reassurances, and hoped he would finish soon. Fingers tracing her nipples, softly biting her lip, I instinctively began moving my hips, pretending it was me loving her instead of the merciless bull fucking her senseless.
She moaned into my mouth, coming hard around his thick cock, and that pushed him over the edge. He slammed deep and emptied himself into her. Pulling out quickly, he leaned down and said, “Clean.”
My wife opened her mouth, but he shook his head. “No, him.”
Looking up into his eyes, I found his cock with my mouth and eagerly licked away their combined juices, sucking the head, coaxing any leftover seed from his balls.
“I was right,” he said, pulling free and slapping my face several times with his cock—each thwack echoing as his meat smacked my cheeks and lips. “Well, I gotta run. When you want to get fucked right again, you know where to find me.” He gathered his clothes and left.
My wife turned to me, a curious look on her face. “That was… interesting. He’s dominant, but not the in-your-face type, you know?”
“He’s a jackass. I hate that guy,” I muttered.
“Then why is your cock fighting to burst out of your shorts? You think I didn’t feel the mess you were making on my leg while you were licking his cock?”
“No! That was—it’s not because—look,” I stammered.
“Uh, no,” she mocked gently, reaching into my shorts and grabbing my soaked cock, “you loved every second of that.”
God, she was right. I did.