The Bad Boy Bull Who Saved Our Marriage

by Raven Merlot

  “Please, please hurry up!” Stephanie said, cooperating and turning around, letting her back face him.

  “Yes, just ride that cock like crazy. The hardest you’ve ever done before. Not lazy like before, like really putting your legs into it.”

  “Fuck you,” Stephanie mumbled, climbing onto his cock.

  “There you go!” Connor said, taking a deep breath as Stephanie pounded his cock with all her gusto. “Keep going! Hold your tits together!”

  “Uhhngghh!” Stephanie said, her whole face contorting from the friction.

  “Ohh yes…yes…I’m going to cum. But talk dirty to me. Talk dirty.”

  “Give me your cum, Connor,” Stephanie shouted desperately. “Give me your stud cock. Fuck that married pussy like you own it!”

  “Yeah, say it again!”

  “Take that married pussy! You own it! Fuck it like you own it!”

  Connor reached up and grabbed Stephanie’s titties while she rode him rodeo style.

  “What are you?”

  “I’m your married slut!” Stephanie shouted.

  “What about your husband?”

  “Who cares about him!” she said. “Your cock is so much bigger than his!”

  “Say it again!”

  “His fucking little dick couldn’t compare to you, Connor!”

  Connor laughed wildly, still squeezing her nipples and still pounding away.

  But then, just as she thought he was going to cum, he started slowing the pace.

  “What… what…”

  Stephanie looked up and watched doe-eyed as John stood before them right at the entrance of the bedroom. Stephanie’s angle allowed him to see both of their faces at the same time, both eyeing him and both immersed in each other’s bodies.

  John took in every detail. Stephanie’s bouncing tits. Connor’s cock which was so huge it was still visible even when plummeted that deeply into his wife’s cunt. And Stephanie’s dark pubic hair…so precious…so sophisticated. And now, being stroked by Connor’s free hand.

  “John!” Stephanie cried.

  “So…” John said, watching in amazement. “I step out for ten minutes and I come to find my wife fucking the first dick that comes in here?”

  Connor laughed merrily. “Come on, Stephanie. Finish what you started.”

  “Say WHAT?” John said, a threatening look on his face.

  “Come on, my cock is on fire. Finish it off. Then we can talk.”

  “What the fuck?!” John replied. “Um, no, the usual course of action is to cease and desist. And you get the fuck out of here while I get to divorce my slut ass wife.”

  “Her ass is amazing. Really slutty for sure. Look at these cheeks.” Connor smacked Stephanie’s ass and smiled at John, very alive in the moment.

  “Ummm, Connor, maybe we should stop.”

  “NO. You finish,” Connor ordered. “I’m telling you what you do, Stephanie. Understand?”

  “Ummm…”

  “Who owns your pussy?”

  “You do…” Stephanie said, as Connor began thrusting harder into her steaming wet cunt.

  “Say it so John can hear it.”

  “He owns my pussy,” Stephanie muttered softly, looking guilty as she watched her husband…but still riding her lover’s cock without shame.

  “I see,” John said with a nod.

  “Come on. Ride my cock while I play with your clit.”

  Connor started fingering Stephanie’s clitoris as he continued staring down John.

  “Oh, I like that…”

  “Good girl. Let’s show John what a real cock does to a housewife, yeah?”

  “Yes…”

  Stephanie stopped staring at John and instead squinted hard as she continued writhing on top of Connor while getting her clit tickled. Her breathing escalated and she began sounding short, sharp seismic groans. The passion peaked and she opened her mouth wide, ready to scream her head off.

  “John, stay and watch your wife cum,” Connor said, noticing John was walking away.

  “NOPE. I think I’ve seen enough. I’m looking for a fucking weapon now.”

  Connor laughed. “You’re so full of shit, man. This turns you on, admit it.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Well, it turns me on! I’m staring into your wife’s asshole and ready to blow my load. Where should I cum?”

  “Fuck off!”

  “Cum for me, Stephanie.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Oh yes, you can.”

  “No really…I think I’m too stressed…”

  “Shut the fuck up and CUM.”

  Connor shoved himself forward and forced Stephanie into a doggy style position. He squatted over and fucked her on all fours, power drilling her G-spot.

  “Ohhhh fuck! Yes! Yes, I’m cumming!”

  Connor laughed loudly. “You bet your sweet married ass you are. Get out of my face with that ‘I can’t cum’ bullshit. Every woman comes when she rides a real cock. Ain’t that right, John?”

  “Ohhhh, Connor!” Stephanie screamed, wiggling her whole body in an explosive, gyrating orgasm. Her pussy clenched down and then contracted, yanking Connor’s penis back and forth in a violent shake. “You’re making me cum!” Stephanie danced all along the bed on her knees and felt the orgasmic wave come over her entire body. She felt the orgasm in her pussy, all the way to her nipples and even in her toes.

  “Ohhh fuck!” Connor screamed back, grabbing her hair and taking the full gush of her over-stimulated pussy. “Yeah, flood that pussy, baby. Drench it. You know John likes that shit.”

  “YES!” Stephanie screamed, her pussy spasming and her sinking face yelling into the bed. “Oh, John…” she groaned, finding his eyes. “I’m…I’m cumming again…”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Connor said, slapping Stephanie’s ass as he fucked her.

  “Stephanie, get the fuck out of my face!” John finally yelled, throwing a fit. “I don’t want to see you right now. Connor, get your balls out of my wife and meet me outside.”

  “Jesus, dude,” Connor said, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t even get to finish.”

  “TOO FUCKING BAD!”

  “Let me shower first, okay?”

  John stared him down.

  “Please, can I use your shower?”

  John did a double take. Even his wet, exhausted and panting wife couldn’t help but shrug in disbelief.

  **

  Connor came out in jeans and a t-shirt that was at least half on. He joined John on the porch and smiled proudly.

  “You proud of yourself, asshole?”

  “Oh, yeah. Stephanie’s snatch is tight as fuck, man.”

  “You know, you’re not getting it through your thick head that this is not okay.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It means, PIG FUCKER,” John screamed. “I did not agree to any of this! You’re cheating with my wife and don’t even have the decency to hide your naked ass when I find out what happens!”

  Connor slowly lost his smile and gave John a look of respect.

  “Oh. Listen, man, I’m sorry if I overstepped my boundaries.”

  “Overstepped? You crossed boundaries a long time ago.”

  “Sometimes I get carried away,” Connor said apologetically. “I can’t help it, man. Pussy is my religion. I can’t stop myself when there’s wet pussy in the area. You know what it’s like, man. It’s biological.”

  “Look, I’m trying to do the adult thing here and not call the cops or stab you through the face. I am asking you nicely one more time to get the fuck out of my life. We’re not friends. This affair is over. The end.”

  “Okay, John,” Connor said with a friendly nod. “I hear you.”

  “Good. Leave. Hurry up.”

  “Can I at least masturbate into Stephanie’s panties? I never came, you know. My balls are turning blue. It’s not really fair if…”

  “No! Get the fuck out! You piece of shit!”

  John kept swearing
at Connor all the way to the parking lot. “Jesus Christ, put some real clothes on. You walk around like a porn star on his day off. You’re a fucking dick impersonating a normal man.”

  ***

  John didn’t have a very good night after that. The images of his wife cumming repeatedly on the balls of another man didn’t sit well. He was so angry he wouldn’t even talk to Stephanie—not that there could be much more to say, after a wife tells her husband her pussy no longer belongs to him.

  John was glum the rest of the week and didn’t even seem to lighten up when Christa came over.

  The next morning, John, his wife, and her best friend all sat around at the breakfast table. Nobody said a word. No one could even break the ice, certainly not with images of Connor’s giant cock still serving as the frozen elephant in the room.

  “What’s wrong?” Christa said, taking John’s hand into hers.

  Stephanie looked up and stared at Christa…but then left the thought behind and continued eating.

  “Nothing,” he said bitterly.

  “It’ll pass,” Christa said. “I still love you, you know.” This time she meant it. This time she didn’t even care what Stephanie thought. It’s not like Stephanie was such a big proponent of tact lately, that’s for sure.

  “Hmmm,” John grunted.

  John seemed to have it all at this point. A devoted wife, a mistress who was still in love with him. And even better, they both knew about each other and “sort of” accepted it. Or at least, they remained addicted to each other, unwilling to walk away from that cursed house and unable to leave behind the mess of human emotions they stumbled upon with each other. Maybe this was what polyamorous love felt like. Confusion. Passion. Epiphany. Acceptance.

  “Get over it, John,” Christa said tiredly, sensing his seething anger. “You got what you wanted. We’re both still here. Why the hell are you so sad?”

  “Really?” John said in surprise. “I got what I wanted? I didn’t ask for Connor to ruin my life. Stephanie, honey? Who does your pussy belong to?”

  “Connor,” Stephanie answered.

  “Oh? Not your husband?”

  “No,” she said bitterly and with a caustic smirk. “Whenever superior cock comes around, I have to worship it.”

  “See?” John pouted to Christa. “Is that what I wanted? My wife to be on loan?”

  “Stephanie, what is wrong with you?” Christa asked.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Stephanie finally snapped back. “I thought you were my friend.”

  “Oh, big deal, you slept with him too!” Christa said with a head bob.

  “Whatever. All that matters is that we love each other. Right, honey?” Stephanie said. “We can work through this. We can wipe the slate clean.”

  John listened but seemed unsure. It was sweet of his “girls” to promise reconciliation. But the bigger issue was that none of them could erase the vivid memory of Connor fucking their brains out. He fucked Stephanie and Christa within an inch of their life, but mind fucked John even harder.

  John couldn’t even punch the guy because…well…Connor never actually forced any of John’s lovers to do anything they didn’t want to do. He also remained John’s friend, the epitome of politeness and respect. He literally shared pussy, but acquiesced to John when he left the house.

  The real question that kept bothered John was…Did I enjoy it too? Did Connor really do it all for me? Was this my fantasy all along?

  They were unsettling questions. He wasn’t sure whether he loathed or loved Connor for what he did and what might happen if he came back—and the situation further escalated.

  At least there were no secrets anymore. Everything was out in the open. In fact, the only one with any secrets lived was John himself…

  Part 4: A Cuckold Threesome For John

  John’s life, once so erotically charged with illicit secrets, was becoming a farce. A farce, a game, that he lost every night. Both his mistress and his wife were acting cold lately. All the secrets had come out. Everyone knew everyone else was cheating. And the man in the middle of the storm, Connor, the mysterious Cajun stranger, had vanished.

  John should have been content with the thought of Connor leaving, at least that. But resentment only festered in the coming weeks. John felt violated. He knew that both his wife and mistress had been unfaithful to him. He also knew that Connor was that much better at fucking than he was, and that didn’t sit well either.

  Every weekend the same pattern would emerge. John would drink and start interrogating both women about their tawdry affair. They both promised it was over. Stephanie was spiteful by now and confessed Connor had the “biggest cock she ever had.” But that, size notwithstanding, she really did end the affair. John was the love of her life. That was that. Christa also regretted sleeping with Connor. She didn’t know exactly what she wanted with John since she felt guilty about cheating behind her best friend’s back, but she knew that it felt real. When she was with John, she felt what it was like to be loved.

  But when John was angry, he was unbearable to live with. His silence alone spoke volumes. Whenever he gave them the silent treatment, Connor’s name resounded through the walls.

  “I know you’re still fucking him,” John said after a long silence. He spoke abruptly and quickly, not really leaving any space for a response.

  “Who are you talking to-”

  “I’m not stupid. I know you’re fucking him.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Stephanie said cluelessly.

  “Does it matter?”

  Silence.

  “I’m not fucking anybody,” Christa said proudly. After all, she was abstaining from being with John too. All the drama in the household made things complicated—not fun like it used to be.

  “And you?” John ranted at his wife. “You’re also going to feed me a bullshit story?”

  “No,” Stephanie said coldly. “I’m not fucking him.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because I wish I was fucking him. How’s that?”

  John stayed silent and shook his head.

  “That’s wonderful, honey. So now I have to live without sex…tons of guilt…and with the horrid images of Connor fucking my wife. And what? I guess I can just go fuck myself?”

  Silence. But it wasn’t good enough for John.

  “Now you both listen here. I want us all to be fucking adults about this. Stop lying. No more lying. I want you to tell me the truth. When’s the last time you saw Connor?”