Family Disrupted

The next day, I scheduled a surprise visit to the prison. My real intention was to supervise my wife Samantha and see what could possibly be going down. Between her newly voracious sexual appetite, her admiration for the big black ex-con Tyson who was viciously fucking her friend Alexa, and her shy hiddenness about her time volunteering at the prison, I knew I had to find out the answers for myself.

Luckily, I had the perfect excuse. Recently incarcerated Carl (Alexa’s husband) was one of my best friends. It honestly was a shame I hadn’t gone to see him yet.

I arrived at the dirty dark prison just after lunch. Everywhere, I saw angry looking men in orange jump suits. They littered the prison yard, either walking suspiciously or lifting weights. They all looked at my fancy new car with something between jealousy and rage.

I signed in with a pretty young receptionist and waited to see my friend Carl.

Carl looked awful. He’d been in prison for weeks, and the usually jovial man I once knew was all scowl. He had big bruises and cuts on his face, and both his arms were crooked, like he had just suffered broken bones.

“Drew, my friend,” he said when he saw me.

I asked him what the fuck happened. He told the story like this.

It was the one time a month when his gorgeous wife actually let him fuck her. She usually just read a magazine or filed her nails while he plowed away at her, and he could not have been more excited. She was in the bath getting cleaned up beforehand, and he was laying in bed, naked, with a hard boner ready for her.

That’s when the feds came in. Carl kicked and screamed but the burly men just smirked, locked him up, and threw him into the back of the van.

“Which one of us is staying behind to nail that sweet piece of ass in there?” one of them said as they slammed the car door shut with Carl locked inside.

His trial, Carl explained, was like something in a war torn country. The judge took no time before asking the jury for a verdict, and they didn’t even leave the room to deliberate.

“I’ve been here weeks now,” Carl said through tears, “And the only thing getting me through all this has been this.”

He showed me a picture. It was a tiny photograph of his wife Alexa. She was wearing a tight sweater and her nipples were visible, with just a hint of naval above a hemmed skirt.

“Knowing that my sweet Alexa is out there,” Carl said, kissing the photo, “Is all I have.”

I didn’t know what to tell him. For one, Alexa’s outfits had changed significantly since the picture was taken. She now dressed so scandalously that delivery men routinely got a look at her pussy lips when she bent over to pick up packages. Two, there was the matter of Tyson. A big violent black man was fucking her senseless in Carl’s house. And he didn’t know!

“I admit, the photo gives me more than solace,” Carl said, “Sometimes, when I need a reprieve from the terror of my fellow inmates, I offer them it.”

Carl explained that for people like him in prison, bigger stronger men came knocking trying to get their rocks off. Luckily, Carl had his photo of Alexa, which he could give to the men to use as masturbation fodder rather than something more severe.

“Sure, I might have to jerk them off to it,” Carl said, miming holding a massive cock in his hand and stroking it, “But that’s better than getting my asshole rammed.”

I couldn’t believe how far Carl had fallen.

“Listen,” I said, desperately trying to change the subject, “What about Samantha?”

“Your wife?”

“Yes. She’s been volunteering here.”

“She has? I haven’t seen her.”

“They say she’s… she’s a ‘care girl.’ What does that mean?”

Carl thought for a moment.

“A care girl is one of the volunteers who work in the rec center. They just sit there and change the channel on the TV, put away board games, things like that.”

“And you haven’t seen her in there?”

“I don’t go into the rec center… it’s too dangerous. All the men there are the most violent and scary criminals in here.”

I gulped. That was who my Samantha was spending time with?

“Though, if that’s true,” Carl said, “Then, I wouldn’t be surprised if your wife was being constantly assaulted.”

“What?!”

“I’m just come out and say it Drew–your wife is hot. Gorgeous, even. Those massive knockers. Those sweet lips. That golden glowing skin. I bet every cock in the building is trying to touch her. And with the kind of man who frequents the rec center? Why, she’s probably swimming in semen.”

I couldn’t believe it. My head started to spin. I barely noticed as an attendant came and took Carl away.

“Bathroom,” I said, wanting to clear my head.

“Visitors have to use the inmate bathroom,” someone said. Before I knew it, someone had led me out into the prisoners’ side of the yard and locked the gate.

I was standing out there, all eyes on me. A guard pointed at the far yard.

“You gotta piss? Go there.”

I followed his instructions and found myself at the other end of the yard, where a bunch of men lined up with their back towards me. Looking more closely, I could see at their feet was some kind of metal trough. It was one of those long tin bins that was meant to be used as a communal urinal. As everyone pissed, the fluids all combined into a slush that together drained away.

As I stepped up to the trough, ready to at least pretend to piss, I looked down. Where I expected to see yellow urine, I instead saw slimy white fluid. There was ejaculate in the urinal trough!

Immediately, I looked left and saw it. The five convicts to my left all had their cocks out over the urinal and were stroking them. I had never seen cocks like this before. Every man was jet black, like coal, and slick with saliva. The fat cocks were longer than my entire arm.

As I fished out my little penis, I couldn’t help but stare at all this raw uncut cock meat.

“Mmmm, she’s looking good,” one of them said.

“Mighty fine breasts.”

“I wanna suck ’em.”

“I wanna put my cock on ’em.”

“I wanna stuff her fat tits with my cock.”

“I wanna cream all over her face.”

As these men stroked violently into the urinal below, I finally saw it. If followed their eye level down to a little area below the urinal. There was an underground area, a room, and from the view of the urinal you could see through the window.

And there she was: my Samantha, sitting with her back to the window in a wooden chair. From this high up vantage, we could all see down her blouse, where her two glorious orbs of flesh and cleavage were visible.

These men were stroking their big black cocks to the sight of my wife’s breasts.

“I’m nutting!” someone yelled, and a splash of white cum bounced off the tin walls of the urinal and slid away.

“Me too!” someone else said, and the urinal splashed with jizz.

“I’m still going,” said a third man, licking his lips, “I’m letting these big balls stay full until she drains them for me.”

“You know Carter called dibs on that white bitch.”

“Yeah, but Carter shares. Once he fucks her, you know he’ll pass her around to us.”

I had no idea who this “Carter” was. But their words brought me back to what Tyson had said. That real men shared their women.

“Shit, if it weren’t for Carter, I’d have gone into that rec room and blasted the bitch full of cum by now.”

“Yeah, and then Carter’d have you strung up by your neck, bleeding out.”

“I know, I know. I won’t cross Carter.”

So who was this Carter who was simultaneously coveting and protecting my wife?

“Shit, what is this white boy doing with his cock out right now?”

Huh? I suddenly found myself at the receiving end of five death stares from the men.

“You staring at our dicks?”

“You wanna suck?”

“Chill,” one of them said to the others, “He’s not on the inside.” He pointed to my visitors badge. “He’s a normie.”

They all laughed.

“Shit, he’s probably just enjoying the show as much as us.”

“Yeah, white boy. You staring at those big mommy titties just like us.”

“I’m….” I stuttered out of fear, “She’s…”

“She’s what?”

“My wife,” I found myself saying.

“Shit, no way!”

“That hot ass piece of ass is your wife?”

“Why are you not sucking those titties right now?”

“Shit, can I smell your fingers?”

“You come back next time with pics of those juicy jugs, right?”

“I gotta tell Carter about this!”

I walked away from the urinal trough in a daze. The images of those big stroking black cocks was burned into my mind as I got into my car and drove as far away as possible.

—

I was called again and asked to come see Principal Trish.

This was my first visit with her since I saw her avant garde permanence art where dozens of convicts stuffed her face with black cock before ejaculating all over her.

Trish looked pleased when I walked in.

“I have some good news this time Mr. Lokkens,” she said, “We can take away some of your son’s punishment community service hours.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Yes. The reason for this is because something has come to my attention.”

“Yes?”

“Your son is a faggot.”

“What?!”

“Yes, I know. I was surprised too.”

“What do you mean by that? I thought you said he assured you when he joined the cheerleading squad that he wasn’t gay.”

“Oh your son isn’t gay. The cheerleading squad has reported that they still feel his creepy little eyes drinking them in when they dress in those short skirts for practice.”

“Huh?”

“He is definitely attracted to the female form. But you know, he’s spent all those hours wiping up the sweat and piss and other fluids of the basketball team… And I just think, yeah, that would turn a little weak boy like your son into a faggot.”

“You mean–”

“I can’t say specifics. Except that all the basketball team is happily reporting that your faggot son is doing a good job.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Anyway, this qualifies him to get credit for being in the faggot club or whatever,” the Principal said, pointing at a poster on her wall for the Gay Straight Alliance, “So he might even be able to get a single of hour of sleep and still graduate.”

“Good,” I thought.

“So,” she said, giving me a devilish smile, “What did you think of my show? I saw you in the audience. It looked like you liked it.”

“I… did,” I said, remembering it vividly.

“Oh, you liked it? It sure did focus on a lot of big black cocks, right? Do you like cocks? Are you a faggot like your son? Because if you are, I can send you to the coach’s office right now and he can use your throat to shave a few hours off your son’s community service.”

“Uhhh… no, I’m sorry. I’m not. I just–”

“Please, calm yourself. You’re getting so sweaty!” Trish was giggling to herself.

“I don’t normally do that,” she said, referring to her performance art, “I’m a poet and usually I write my own work. But that night was all about honoring prison reform and so it only seemed appropriate to perform something that had been written by a prisoner.”

“That was… written by a prisoner?”

“Written and directed by a current inmate.”

I gulped. I remembered how precisely Trish’s costuming had resembled my wife.

“Can I ask… what the name of the author is?”

Trish didn’t miss a beat.

“He’s a very fine gentleman named Carter Smith,” she said.

Fuck. So the same man who was trying to fuck my wife in prison created that scene…

“I met him at the prison,” Trish said, “For a conjugal visit. It’s good for ladies like me to go and help out those poor men. You know, they don’t get a lot of sexual release. Usually, it just gets all pent up inside their big sweaty balls, and it starts to mess with their head. That’s why I went to see Carter, because the rumors were that he was the most obsessive, cum-filled predator in the joint. As soon as I got him in my arms, he pinned me to the bed and fucked me like no man ever has. It was amazing, and for him, to get to drain his big beautiful balls… It’s too bad it’s been so long since I’ve seen him. I bet his balls are fuller than ever, just desperate to find a sweet pussy to invade. You know?”

I gathered my things and told Trish I had to go.

“One more thing,” she said before I could go, “Just about your son being a faggot. The team has requested that he be with them even on away games. So there may be some nights where doesn’t come home.”

I nodded, and ran out of there as quickly as I could.

—

Sunday arrived, and me and my wife Samantha piled our son into the van to visit Alexa and Tyson’s BBQ. As Trish had mentioned, our oldest son had been requested to accompany the basketball team, and so wasn’t with us.

When we pulled up, it seemed like Alexa was down another child. Whereas last week, one of their boys was there to greet us while her other son was in the hospital, this week there was no one.

“Go run around,” Samantha said to our boy, as we left him to enter the home.

“We’re out back!” came a voice, Alexa’s. Samantha and I walked out to their yard to see Alexa topless in their hot tub. Her perky pink nipples were hard and floating at the water line. Besides her, Tyson was shirtless, his chest hairy and adorned with a solid gold medallion. Under the water, I imagined, they were both equally nude.

“Oh dear,” Samantha said, averting her gaze from her naked friend, “Are we early?”

“Not at all,” Tyson said, “Why don’t you two join us?”

Meekly, Samantha turned back around and sat at the edge of the tub. She let her feet dangle in, while I stripped to my boxers and joined everyone fully in the water.

“What happened to your kids?” Samantha asked.

“Oh right,” Alexa said, “Tyson had a great idea this week.”

“Military school,” he said.

“Military school?!” Samantha said, aghast, “You just sent your kids away like that?”

“It’s good for them,” Alexa said.

“Isn’t that expensive?” I asked.

“Not at all. Once I spoke to the staff on the phone, they said they would even cover the boys’ airfare.”

“Oh, is the school that far away?”

“It’s in Puloga,” Alexa said.

Puloga… that sounded familiar. Wasn’t that a country in Africa? Weren’t they undergoing an immense civil war being fought with child soldiers?

“Puloga is right for those kids,” Tyson said, “None of that pussy American shit.”

“The boys had been awfully pussy-like lately,” Alexa said, reflecting on her sons.

“They were faggots,” Tyson said.

I winced, remembering what Trish had said and where my own kid was now.

“Puloga will be good for them,” Tyson said, ” They’ll come back men.”

“If they come back at all!” Alexa shouted. “Oops,” she covered her mouth, “Maybe too much champagne.”

“It is a war zone over there. Chances are, they might meet some fate.”

“I don’t mind it,” Alexa said, “Gives me more time to be with you.” And she leaned forward to get onto Tyson’s lap, kissing him deeply in front of Samantha and me.

Splashing around the water with her toes, Samantha nervously spoke up.

“So… how is life this week without kids then?”

“Amazing,” Alexa said, “We have so much more energy. And the sex has been even better. It’s not like we were really stopping any of our urges before, I mean, Tyson fucked me at the breakfast table every day, but now, I just feel like we’re even closer.”

“I can finally invite some mates over,” Tyson said, “And not worry that they’ll trip over some brat.”

“Yes, and you said you want me to meet that one friend… what was his name?”

“Maestro,” Tyson said, “Yeah, he’s got those big dogs. If there were kids around, they’d be chow within a minute.”

This image made both Samantha and Alexa giggle like school girls.

“Anyway, what’s new with you?” Tyson asked with a shit-eating grin.

“Well, I didn’t want to say it last time because I didn’t know if Drew would approve,” Samantha said nervously, “But I’ve been volunteering. At the prison.”

“Shit, that’s good!” Tyson shouted, “You keeping my old buddies happy?”

“I think so!” Samantha said with pride, sticking out her chest with dignity, “I hand out board games and everyone is really friendly. They sit next to me, playing checkers, and tell me stories.”

“Yeah yeah, those are some good folks,” Tyson said, “You tell ’em about me. Tell them you know me, and they won’t fuck around with you.”

“Oh, no, that’s not necessary. Everyone is already so sweet.”

“Yeah Tyson,” I said, “I doubt your name carries any weight anyway.”

“That shit’s not true,” Tyson said, “I was top dog in there.”

“Oh yeah?” Samantha said, “Really?”

“Fuck yes. I mean, more like number two. But everyone in there knew not to fuck with me.”

“You were only number two?” Alexa asked, disappointed that her stud wasn’t the literal top prison alpha.

“I was the top dog who wasn’t fucking insane,” Tyson said, “You had to be crazy to be more dangerous than me. And the number one guy was fucking nuts. Carter Smith, that insane motha fucka!’

For the third time, I heard the name Carter Smith. My entire body froze.

“Now I know you’re full of shit,” Samantha said, confidently crossing her arms and emphasizing her big breasts, “I see Carter every day. And he’s the biggest sweetest puppy dog of them all.

Tyson let out an insane sounding cackle.

“Carter is crazy, man! You don’t know what you’re saying, white bitch.”

He laughed and laughed and laughed.

“Listen here,” Tyson said, “Carter is known for being the meanest and roughest fucker in there. He writes to all these bitches on the outside, gets them to fall in love with him because he’s so sweet sounding and kind, and eventually, he gets them to come and do a conjugal visit.”

Alexa and Samantha both looked confused at the term.

“That’s a private prison visit where you get to fuck!” Tyson said.

“Carter would fill up his week with these prison loving sluts and he’d go into that love shack and beat that pussy up!”

Samantha covered her mouth and giggled.

“So what, he’s a bit of a ‘pimp’ I guess. A ‘playa.’ So what?”

“That ain’t the crazy part,” Tyson said, “Because while he’s fucking these bitches, he’s also choking their brains out. Now these crazy sluts love it, they love getting choked as he fucks their brains out right up until the moment they stop breathing!”

“No way,” Samantha said, “I don’t believe you. No woman loves sex so much that she’d submit to being choked! Nevertheless choked so hard that she actually passes away!”

“Carter is snuffing bitches in those trailers,” Tyson said, “He loves it. Never runs out of em. And the prison doesn’t care. They got even sicker shit they’re planning.”

Samantha shook her head in disbelief. “Not my sweet Carter. I can tell, he’s a true gentleman.”

Tyson laughed. “Just don’t go into that trailer with him!”

From a cooler, Tyson grabbed a beer and tossed one to everyone.

“Sweetheart,” Samantha said, “I kinda want to ask Alexa and Tyson a private question.”

“Huh?” I said.

“Can I ask you to just… go away for a moment?”

“I just got in the hot tub!” I said. I was so comfortable, why should I leave for my wife to say something private to Alexa and Tyson?

“Please, sweetie,” she said.

“The bitch said to give her some space,” Tyson said, and then, without warning, he pushed my head under the water.

I heard the washed out noises of Samantha’s giggles above the water as I struggled against Tyson’s massive grip. I screamed out, I couldn’t breathe! But all I got was a mouthful of water.

<That works> she likely said, giggling, as she spoke more, too softly for me to make out.

As Tyson held my head under the water, I looked straight ahead and saw that I was eye level with Tyson’s big meaty dick. Now, this was not the first big black cock I had seen this week, but I suddenly became nervous with exactly how big it was. The men at the urinal had each been massive: Tyson was on another level. Just staring at its murky-purple head gave me shivers. I believed undoubtedly that he really was the second most powerful man in the prison.

Next to Tyson’s cock, and his huge black balls, was Alexa’s nice white body. Her bare pussy lips looked so good, even as I couldn’t breathe.

I realized that Alexa had her hand wrapped around Tyson’s cock. She had been stroking him off the entirety of the conversation. The cock was threateningly hard, pointed directly at me, and Alexa’s quick jerking motions, disguised by the bubbles, was not slowing down.

Underwater, there was no way for me to know it was happening. Tyson’s cock fired out white viscous semen directly towards me. In the water, it dissipated into a cloud, but single streams of solid white jism kept spewing from the man’s massive balls.

I was surrounded by the salty white cloud, unable to breathe, until finally he removed his hand and I rose to the surface with urgency.

“Thank you sweetie,” my wife said, unaware of what I had seen, “I just wanted to ask them a quick private question.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” I said, dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

—

Having watched Tyson ejaculate into my face, I was in no excitement to stay at the BBQ much longer and hurried back to the home.

“Hey there,” my wife said to my youngest son when we got back, “So, you know how Alexa and Tyson have a rule about no kids in the house?”

He nodded.

“Why don’t we try that?”

I looked at my wife with concern. Was she serious? She shot me a quick wink.

“Just for a little test,” she said, whispering, “I want to try something.”

And so my house became a kids-free zone the moment the door closed behind us.

“Sweetheart,” Samantha said, and turned to face me in the doorway. Off came her blouse, until I was staring directly at her heaving breasts, making eye contact with her round pink nipples.

“I want you to fuck me here,” she said, sitting down on our couch and spreading her legs.

I beamed. Samantha had been so much more adventurous lately, and here was a chance to go even further. For all the worrying I was doing about Tyson and Trisha and Carter, here was my beautiful wife, topless, spreading her legs for me and begging me to fuck her.

I started drooling, edging closer to touching her.

“Wait, honey,” she said, putting her fingers on my lips, “I want to try something.

She pushed me backwards, leaving me waiting there, while she licked the palm of her hand and scrunched up her skirt. She showed me her bare pussy and began to masturbate in front of me.

“I want to get this thing so sloppy and wet for you,” she said, “But I need you to do something for me.”

The smell of her sex was overwhelming. I wanted to plunge into her already.

Samantha started to moan as she pleasured herself so successfully. I was dying, armed and ready to fuck!

“Okay,” she said, moaning between breaths, “I want… I want you to fuck me.”

I got closer, boner pointing, ready.

“But..” She said, “I want you to choke me while you’re inside me!”

“Huh?”

“You… heard…. Me…” she said, her fingers circling her clit, “Choke me!”

I couldn’t wait any longer. I wrapped my hand around Samantha’s throat and stuck my dick inside of her. It was so warm and nice around my cock, her big tits heaving.

“Harder!” she shouted, and I started to fuck her harder.

“No, choke me harder,” she corrected.

I squeezed my hands tighter around her neck.

“Harder!” she said.

I tried harder. Still, it wasn’t hard enough.

She shoved me off of her, returning her hand to her pussy to keep herself going. Samantha’s juices dripped off my dick onto our carpet.

“Go get a belt from your closet,” she demanded. I was horny, I was back in a flash with the belt.

“Wrap it around my neck,” she commanded, and I did as she told me. I slipped the belt around her neck and held the other end in my hand.

“Choke me,” she begged, and I plunged back inside of her while squeezing the belt tightly.

“Uhgrrrgh!” she groaned, unable to let out a real moan. Immediately, I released the belt and she burst out in breath.

“No,” she choked, spitting up spit, “Don’t let go.”

Reluctantly, I put the belt back on Samantha’s neck and proceeded to fuck her.

She groaned breathlessly as I plowed into her pussy. I spun her on her stomach, holding the belt like a leash as I fucked her from behind.

“Gglglglggg, gglggl!” she choked. Her big tits were dangling downwards like a cow.

“Fuck!” I shouted. I was cumming, inside her pussy. My hands let go of the belt as the force of my orgasm shoved me back.

“Nooo!” she shouted, breathing in.

“Sorry,” I said, “I let go of the belt. Sorry.”

“No that’s not it,” she said, “You came inside of me!”

I sat confused. Usually Samantha was begging me to cum inside of her.

“I…” she looked at me like a girl who had misbehaved, “I went off my birth control.”

“What?!”

“I was just getting so horny lately… I went to my doctor and he said it might be my birth control. But since I went off it, I’ve been even hornier.”

Shit… Was there a chance that my wife might get pregnant?

“You need to get on your knees,” she commanded. She presented her sloppy wet cunt to my face.

“Eat it all out,” she said, “Quick.”

Without hesitating, I ate out every drop of semen from Samantha’s sloppy pussy. When she came, it pushed out the final drops of semen from the back of her cervix. Even though I would of course make sure she got Plan B tomorrow, I was confident that none of my sperm had made it to her eggs.

“That was close,” she said. I looked at my wife and saw the burning red marks of the belt around her neck.

“Honey,” I said, tracing them with my fingers.

“They’ll go away in a few hours,” Samantha said. “They always do.”

They always do?

—

I needed to know more about Carter Smith and his proclivities for choking women during sex. I went to the only source I knew who had actually had sex with Carter Smith and lived to tell the tale. Trish.

School was in session and I didn’t have an appointment, so I waited in the parking lot outside. While I was there, a bus pulled up that was adorned with the name of the school basketball team.

It parked out front and student after student came out of it. I was shocked. The basketball team players were as big and burly as the convicts I had met! Any one of them looked tough enough to take on Tyson in a one-on-one fight. I remembered what Trish had said about these men making my son into a faggot and I bit my tongue.

“Hey fucker!” came a voice. It was deep and threatening, and I looked right to see a big finger being pointed at me.

“The fuck you doing?”

The man, bigger and burlier than all of the team players, marched towards me. I tried to roll up my window but he shoved his bicep inside and dragged me out of the car like a rag doll.

“You staring at my players? Who the fuck are you?!”

I read his name tag: Coach Chalmers. I tried to say something but he clocked me in the face, causing me to see stars and crumble on the street like trash.

When I woke up, I was still on the street, and Trish was standing above me.

“Oh that’s not a threat,” she said, seeing my eyes open, “He’s the faggot’s father.”

“Oh shit,” Coach Chalmers said, helping me up, “That explains it. How’s it going man?”

“What are you doing on campus?” Trish asked me.

“I wanted to talk to you… privately,” I said.

“Anything you can say to me, you can say in front of Coach Chalmers. He and I are–” she giggled “intimate.”

“Shit, why do we have to listen to this prick?” the Coach asked, “I’m fucking tired and sweaty from practice and I wanted to go back to your office for some lovin.”

“We can do that after,” Trish said.

“Fuck that. I want it now.”

“Relax,” Trish said, leaning over my fallen body and sticking her hand down Coach Chalmers’ pants. His hard black shaft became visible through his gym shorts.

“That’s nice,” he said.

“So what,” Trish said, turning to me, “did you need?”

“I–” I found it hard to make words, both because my windpipe was fractured from the Coach and because the cock in Coach’s pants was oozing precum out onto my shin.

“Spit it out,” Trish commanded.

“I wanted to ask you… about Carter Smith.”

“Oooo,” Trish cooed, obviously aroused at the name, “Now there’s a man. What do you want to know?”

“Is it true…” I tried to ask, but the Coach’s erection had grown so large that it was now poking up out of its waistband. Trish licked her index finer and ran it in a circle around the tip of his cock, causing it to spasm.

“Is it true that he chokes women during sex?”

Trish laughed to herself as the Coach’s cock twitched further.

“Of course,” she said, “See this?” She used her free hand to pull down her collar. Around her neck were dark bruises in the shape of massive hands.

“I haven’t seen him in months and this still look so fresh,” she bragged.

“I heard… some things,” I said.

“Oh yeah?” she asked. The Coach’s cock was entirely out of his shorts down, still dripping all over the place. “Like what?”

Laying there on the floor, I couldn’t help it. I spilled everything. I told her about Samantha volunteering at the prison. Her open blouse and those beautiful tits on display for the men at the urinal trough. I told her what Tyson had said, that women were choked to death while fucking Carter Smith, and what the convicts had said, that he had called dibs on my wife.

“Oh dear,” Trish said, stroking the Coach’s cock even faster now, “I believe it when you say it like that. He definitely almost killed me! And I was loving every second. There’s no doubt that other women weren’t so lucky… or should I say that they were luckier!”

“So please,” I said, “You understand now. You have to go see him… If he’s not draining his balls, he’ll only pursue my wife more…”

“Fuck no!” she shouted, “I may love big black cock, but as you can see, I have enough of it here. I don’t need to risk my life for good dick.”

I frowned.

“If your goal in coming here was to get me killed,” she said, “Consider it a failure! I hope your wife gets what’s coming to her!” She slipped the Coach’s spasming dick back into his pants and let him carry her away, back to her office, to fuck.

I struggled in getting up off the floor, but when I made it, I went back to my car, dejected.

—

My last hope was an unfortunate one, but I had to do it. Alone, bloody and bruised from the Coach, I drove over to Alexa and Tyson’s house.

Alexa was surprised to see me. She was dressed, for her, conservatively: a tiny blue thong and a tshirt that barely covered her tits.

“I came to talk to Tyson,” I said.

She grunted, unhappy to let me into her home.

“We were just about to fuck,” she said, “And you’re going to make me wait?”

“Wait for what, baby girl?” Tyson asked. He came down the stairs completely nude, hard cock in front of him, and upon seeing me, laughed.

“Shit, the faggot is back. One load of cum to your face wasn’t enough?”

“I need to ask you a favor,” I said. He scooped up Alexa in his arms like she was made of paper, and held her preciously over his raging hard on.

“You turn me down,” he said, referring to his offer to “share” women two weeks ago, “And then you come here for a favor?”

“Please,” I begged, “I’m desperate.”

I could see the juices from Alexa’s pussy dripping onto his cock. He was clearly ready to fuck her.

“Fine,” he said, “But first, I gotta nut.”

He let Alexa’s hot young body drop onto his boner. She screamed out in ecstasy. I couldn’t believe such a big cock fit into this woman, the mother of two, the formerly chaste mother and wife of my friend Carl. If only he could see her now, perfectly content to be a slampiece for a big black dick… He would never be the same.

“Shit, you know your guts have been rearranged so much these days,” Tyson said.

“I don’t care,” Alexa begged, “Fuck me!”

“Tell me why you deserve it.”

“You’re a king. You’re a god. You’re the master of my world. I’d do anything for your big black cock.”

“Beg me for it.”

“Please, keep giving me that big black cock!”

Tyson let out a laugh and dropped her down on the couch. Pressing her face into the cushion, he wiped his slimy cockhead against the entrance to her puckered asshole and then pressed inside.

“I fucked a lot of assholes in prison,” he declared, “But none as tender as yours.”

“Yes daddy, give it to me.”

“You really giving everything you have for this cock?”

“Everything!”

“Sending your boys to be shot out in the fucking jungle?”

“Yes!”

“Letting your husband rot away like the pindick loser he is?”

“Yes!”

“Letting me treat your asshole like my personal cum sleeve?”

“Yes!”

“Raising my baby while your own spawn get their bones licked clean on a field?”

At that, Alexa let out an enormous orgasmic moan, creaming out of her pussy all over the couch.

“I ain’t making a baby in here,” he said laughing, “Just filling that ass with cum.”

And with that, I could see the way Tyson’s big black balls contracted. There were muscles at work. Muscles in his cock that sent rope after rope of sticky white baby batter directly into Alexa’s butt. Shit, the force with which he ejaculated into her might have burst through, sending sperm all the way through her body and back down into her cervix.

He withdrew his slimy wet cock from her asshole, and she immediately turned around to lick her anal juices off it.

“So,” he said, turning to me while the woman licked his cock, “What you need?”

I sat, awkwardly, beside him on the wet couch.

“I need you to go see Carter Smith,” I said.

“Carter? In prison? Why the fuck would I ever go back there?”

“Please. You said you were his number two. He’ll listen to you. He’ll listen to you if you tell him to back off my Samantha.”

Tyson let out a chuckle, causing a phantom round of semen to shoot from his cock into Alexa’s lips.

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because, he’ll kill her!”

Tyson shook his head.

“The fuck do I care if he kills her? Bitch, do you care if Carter kills her?”

Still sucking the tip of his cock, Alexa shook her head. She didn’t.

“Please,” I begged, unable to do anything else, “Please go see him. Convince him to leave my Samantha alone.”

Tyson chuckled some more.

“How about this,” he said, “You’re an ungrateful little white faggot. That’s what you are. And I don’t take orders from stupid white faggots.”

My heart dropped. This was another dead end.

“That said,” Tyson added, “I could be convinced to go see my friend Carter. For fun.”

“Phew. Thank you Tyson.”

“If,” he shouted, “If… I knew that I was doing it for myself, and not because some faggot wanted me to.”

I stared, confused.

“You gotta prove to me that you’re a weakling,” he said, “That you are completely subordinate to my authority, because you are a smudge on my boot compared to the man I am.”

“Y-y-yes,” I choked, “You are.”

“Prove it.” I stood obediently awaiting orders.

He reached forwards and removed his leathery soft cock from Alexa’s mouth. I expected him to shove it towards me, but that’s not what he did.

Instead, he positioned Alexa backwards, facing me, so that her ass was pointing at my face.

“Eat up,” he commanded, and I watched Alexa’s puckered asshole contract as cum leaked out.

“Show me you’re a bitch,” he said, “By being so low that you’ll shove your mouth on the asshole of my cock sleeve.”

I gulped. To save Samantha? I had to do it.

I leaned my nose directly onto Alexa’s fine beautiful butt cheeks and began to eat.

“Ahh,” Alexa moaned, pleasurably, “That tickles.”

“Good faggot,” Tyson said, shoving the back of my head into Alexa tighter, “Eat up.”

This was the second time in 24 hours I had eaten cum out of a woman, but it was the first time it wasn’t mine. Alexa squirmed around deliciously, savoring my tongue in her private hole. Sure enough, I even popped a boner.

“Suck suck,” Tyson said, and I kept going until the smell of Alexa’s asshole and pussy were entirely free of cum.

“Alrighty,” Tyson said, “Looks like I’ll be paying a visit to my old stomping grounds.”

—

Tyson barely had time to throw on a wife beater and a pair of boxers over his wet soft cock. Visiting hours at the prison would be over within the hour, so I needed to get him there as soon as possible.

I parked in the yard, and watched Tyson take his sweet time moseying on in there. He nodded at the guards, said “sup” to some fellas hanging out by the gate.

“Hurry up!” I said to myself, my breath still tasting like ass and cum.

An interminable twenty minutes later, Tyson came sauntering out with a stoic look on his face. He paused at my car window.

“He wants to see you,” Tyson said somberly.

I gulped. How had I even been mentioned? Why did a man I had never met, Carter Smith, a man who had been lusting after my busty wife and choking out his fuck sluts in the conjugal trailer… why did he want to see me?

When he got into the visiting room, Tyson shouted to a guard.

“Yo, my man gotta pee.” I was thrust out into the yard, where I stood facing the open expanse of dirt. I knew where I needed to go.

At the other end of the yard, the urinal was full of ten buff inmates, one in the middle a head taller than the rest. There was a single open spot to piss right next to him. I gulped. That’s where I was supposed to go.

I slid up next to the tall stranger and he patted me on the back.

“Nice to get acquainted,” he said. He wore sunglasses and had a toothpick, items I didn’t know were given to prisoners, and his hair was styled into tight corn rows. He was indeed taller, buffer, blacker, and scarier than any of the other inmates.

“I heard you got some beef with me,” he said.

“Huh?”

“My man Tyson,” Carter said, “He been pontificating to me… He says you don’t quite like my interest in your wife.”

“My…” I couldn’t speak out of fear. “Wife?”

“That’s your wife, is it not?” He pointed down at the rec center where sure enough, Samantha was sitting by the window with her blouse close to entirely undone. How could she not notice the crowd of handsome black men with their cocks out admiring her breasts from above?

“Tyson… did he tell you that?”

“Shit no!” one of the men in the line shouted. His cock was out and, like the others, it was rock hard as he stared at Samantha’s bountiful melons. “You told us that!”

Shit. I had admitted that Samantha was my wife last time I was here.

“I am an intelligent man,” Carter said, “When Tyson came to see me, I put two and two together.”

Shit… Here I was, standing over the urinal while ten of the strongest men I had ever seen swarmed around me.

“If you’re going to stand here,” Carter said curtly, “You need to have your dick out.”

I gulped. Meagerly, I fished my soft white dicklet out of my pants and let it hang over the urinal. Next to the black mammoth cocks of the inmates, it looked like a clitoris.

“Interesting,” Carter said, upon seeing my dick, “That such a fine white specimen as your wife has such an under endowed faggot for a husband.”

“It’s not–” but I didn’t know what to say.

“Here’s the thing,” Carter said. All the other men were stroking their cocks, staring at Samantha in the window, except Carter, who’s massive black penis hung somberly over the trough. “Look around you. What do you see?”

I looked to my left and to my right. I saw massive black cock and balls everywhere I looked.

“Exactly,” Carter said, “There isn’t exactly a lot of pussy around here. There’s some guards, some of the men’s bitches come and visit, and of course, there’s your wife… But otherwise, it sure is a lot of cock and balls, wouldn’t you say?”

I gulped in agreement.

“And here’s the other thing,” Carter said, “I don’t like to get off to cock and balls. I’m not a faggot like you. And I’m also not a self molester. I’m not going to jerk my cock to the sight of some breasts like these animals.”

At the insult, none of the men stopped stroking. They were all too excited by Samantha’s tits.”

“No, I need my balls drained personally. By a fine bitch, preferably with big fine titties. Just like your wife’s. I’m not going to stroke off to empty my balls. And that means, my balls are very full.”

As if to demonstrate that he wouldn’t be stroking, Carter’s cock began to spasm out a loud and smelly jet of hot piss into the trough.

“So when pussy is what I need,” he said, “And when there’s not a lot of pussy around these parts… for a friend, a former friend really, to come and visit me… a man who is on the outside, where there is endless pussy… for him to come and tell me to lay off the one object of my desire that has gotten my balls so heavy and full?”

I looked down at Carter’s cock as it continued to spew piss. His balls were indeed massive and full, like two softballs stuffed with buttercream.

“That does not please me,” Carter said, “Not one bit.”

“I-I-I’m sorry,” I sputtered.

“Now that said,” he continued, still pissing, “I must say that I still have a certain respect for that ragamuffin Tyson. Even if he is an imbecile.”

“Oh?”

“And to that end, I think I’ll be finding another object to transfer my attention to.”

Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

“Yes, alas, I don’t know the next time another so conveniently busty slut will enter these walls, especially one as busty as your fine wife, but I will have to wait until then. Out of respect for Tyson.”

I had won. He was going to lay off Samantha.

“I just want to make clear,” he continued, somehow endlessly spewing piss, “That I don’t appreciate being orchestrated like a violin by a worthless faggot like you.”

And suddenly, Carter’s big hand shoved me forwards. I fell into the trough directly under his fat smelly cock, which was still erupting with piss, now all over my face. The combined ejaculate and piss of the men covered me, and as soon as I was able to wipe the sludge off my face, all the men had scattered. I looked down at the window and saw Samantha was gone.

Covered in black men’s piss and cum, I still wore a smile as I trudged out and back to Tyson.

“Shit, you look like a whore’s face,” Tyson said, “But he told you the good news?”

“Yes,” I said.

“That’s nice. Keep Carter off your girl and he won’t strangle her. Sure, the other guys will rough her up a bunch, but at least she’ll live through it.”

I stopped dead.

“The other guys?”

“Yeah, man, of course. Carter won’t go after Samantha no more, so that means his guys will be free to mess with her. I bet they’re dying to get their cocks around her. But man, at least it’s not Carter Smith. He’s the only fatal one in that bunch.”

I froze, speechless.

“I just hope that wife of yours has got some good birth control,” Tyson said, “’cause the amount of semen they’re gonna spill in her, her eggs will be getting fertilized for sure.”

We walked out in the parking lot to see Samantha’s car pulling away. I breathed relief. At least the day was over. At least she wasn’t still there!

I drove Tyson back to his home, and even endured Alexa’s laughs at my piss covered clothes as I showered in their guest house. I borrowed some of Carl’s old clothes and solemnly returned back to my house to confront Samantha.

“Sweetheart,” I said, kissing her hello.

“What’s the smell?” she said, sniffing me, “It’s almost… masculine? Are you wearing a new cologne?”

“Sort of,” I said quickly, “I need to talk to you.”

She sat down on our couch.

“I need you to stop going to the prison for volunteering. It’s very serious. It has to do with Carter Smith–”

As soon as I said Carter Smith, Samantha started to cry.

“Oh Drew,” she said between tears, “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I’ve been keeping all that from you. But you’re right. I shoudn’t go back.”

I looked at her with my head turned. “What do you mean, keeping what from me?”

Through her sniffles, Samantha told me she wanted to come clean.

“At work,” she said, “Carter Smith… he’s been someone who gets close to me. I can tell he likes me… I mean, he calls me beautiful, touches my hair when the guards aren’t looking, always makes sure none of the other guys mess with me. I thought it was just harmless, you know, to have this hot guy at my work who I thought was really sexy and who flirted with me… but it’s just been getting so overwhelming!”

I sat close to her, waiting to see where this went.

“I’ve just been obsessive,” she said, “When I see him out on the prison yard with his shirt off. The way the sun reflects off his chiseled chest, the sweat, that dark skin… And then, gee, it feels so wrong to say this, but his cock! I can’t possibly miss that thing, like an eggplant stuffed into his orange jumpsuit! Whenever I see it swinging with his steps, I just have to go touch myself! I’ve been doing it constantly at work, every single day, I spend half my time curled up on the floor of the woman’s room with my hand up my cunt!”

I sat there, watching Samantha blush in embarrassment, waiting for more revelations.

“Once I heard from Tyson that he chokes women while he fucks them… I started choking myself when I masturbate. I’ve been doing it at least five times a day. I even made you do it! I can’t believe it, this one rugged big cock stud and I’ve been reduced to a compulsively masturbating whore! I even asked Tyson privately, when your head was underwater, whether they thought a man like Tyson would be interested in fucking me. What a slut I’ve become.”

She was crying now, and I realized that this was it. She was guilty about how badly she lusted after Carter and his big black cock. But that was it.

I immediately held the weeping Samantha in my arms. Her tits jiggled with her tears.

“Samantha,” I said, finding myself get emotional, “Of course you’re masturbating to his big black cock. After all we’ve gone through, that’s only natural.”

And then, I found myself opening up to her. I told her everything: about Trish’s performance, going to the prison, talking to Trish again, going to see Tyson, our deal, his approaching Carter and then what Carter said to me.

“I was acting like a jealous fool,” I said, but Samantha was no longer crying. She was standing above me, arms folded, sternly staring down.

“What did you say you did,” she said, anger in her voice, “With my friend Alexa?”

I had, indeed, sucked semen out of Alexa’s asshole while she came all over my face.

“Please,” I begged my buxom wife, “I can explain–” but she tossed me out of the house and I ended up spending the night in my car.

In the morning, she woke me up with a mug of coffee, her nipples hard in her night shirt as she invited me back inside.

“I still can’t believe what you did,” she said, “How could you? My best friend? Behind my back?”

“It was only because I was so worried about you,” I said.

“Did you–did you enjoy it?”

“Huh?”

“Eating her ass… it’s just… we’ve never done it before.”

I seized the opportunity.

“Is that it?” I begged, “Please, Samantha, if that’s it then I’ll happily eat your ass.”

“Okay.” She said it so quickly, I was surprised.

Still with her hair in the morning bun, she shed her bottoms, leaving her wearing only her thin night shirt over her bare breasts.

“Start eating,” she said, wagging her asshole at me. I didn’t have to be told twice. I ate Samantha’s asshole with all the passion I could muster. I spit and slobbered all over her hole. I drank from the juices flowing from her her pussy: leaning in further when she orgasmed all down my chin.

“Oh, this does feel so good!” she shouted.

“Yes, Samantha, I’ll do anything for you.”

“Anything?” she said, stopping her previously gyrating hips. “Will you… will you go get the belt?”

Happily, I ran to get my belt from the bedroom and wrapped it around her neck. As I ate her asshole, I squeezed at the handle of the belt.

“Glugggggggg ah!” she groaned, issuing a waterfall of cum down my face.

“Fuck me!” she shouted, “Carter fuck me with that big black cock of yours!”

I didn’t stop eating her ass. I let her scream out the convict’s name as I choked her harder. I kept eating and licking and sucking her hole until I found her going limp.

“Samantha?” I said. She didn’t respond. I looked up and saw her eyes were closed.

I took the belt off her neck and laid her flat and the floor. “Fuck!” I shouted. But within a minute, she burst back to life.

“That was…” she said, dreamily, her eyes glazing over, “That was SO FUCKING HOT!”

—

After Samantha had recovered, she slid, still bottomless, onto our sticky couch and sipped from her mug of coffee.

“I think,” she said, “We need to be real about what’s happening here.”

“Okay…”

“I obviously have this infatuation,” she said, “With that big dick Carter Smith. He’s gotten under my skin. I just feel like I won’t be satisfied until I do something about it.”

She sipped from her mug, watching me squirm in my seat, but not saying anything too quickly.

“I’m only being honest. You felt the need to eat out my friend. I feel the need to get fucked and choked by this man. I feel like, until I do it, we just won’t be equal.”

I squirmed further, trying to think of what to say.

“Sweetheart, I just think if we waited–”

“I can’t wait,” she said, “I’m so horny, all day at the job.”

“Well, if you leave the job–”

“I can’t leave the job. It’s the most meaningful thing I’ve done in ages. What I’m saying is, I don’t want to leave the prison. I like feeling like the sexiest woman in the world, all eyes on me, when I show up. I like sitting in the rec room next to Carter, feeling the warmth of his arm around me as I watch his erection growing in his pants. I love this job, sweetheart. You can’t take it from me.”

I was at a loss for words.

“But because of your meddling,” she said, “It seems like I need to do this. I need to reach out to Carter personally, and make this right. And that will mean, in all likelihood, visiting one of the conjugal trailers with him.”

“And you two can talk it out. Fix things.”

She sternly put her hand on my knee, leaning forward so I could see down her shirt.

“Honey, if I get in that trailer with Carter Smith, he is going to fuck my brains out. I guarantee it.”

I gulped but Samantha was sure of herself.

“Besides,” Samantha said, “It’s just sex. That’s what Alexa and Tyson have been saying. You know, he’s been begging to let his friends come over to bang her? And she keeps saying that she wants to be only for him! But Tyson apparently insists that fucking is fucking and that’s it. Won’t that be fun, that you and I will actually be more sexually advanced than those two?”

Samantha giggled.

“I’ll always love you,” she said, “I think… I just need to get it out of my system. I just need this big dick inside of me, one time, and those hands around my neck, and then I’ll be done.”

“…..okay.”

Samantha’s eyes lit up.

“I knew you’d understand.”

She skipped away like a school girl to the kitchen, where she picked up the phone.

“Hi, I’d like to make a call to an inmate? Carter Smith, please.”

She waited.

“Hey there, sweetie… Yes, it’s me… Yes, I miss you too… Wait, before you say anything, I wanted to ask you…. Can we go on a date?”

A date? Is what my wife was calling going to a shitty trailer to get violently fucked by a criminal?

“Yeah… I can come over today, if you want… Yeah, I’ll wear something special… What did you call him? The faggot? Oh, don’t worry about him, he’s okay with it… Okay… I’ll see you soon… Love you too.”

Love you too?

She skipped back over to where I was sitting, giddy as a girl in a candy store.

“I’m so excited to see Carter,” she said.

“Did you really say you loved him just now?”

“Oh that was just a slip of the tongue,” she said, “I mean, I’m just obsessed with his cock. I love his cock, is what I meant.”

Somehow, that wasn’t any better.

An hour later, Samantha came down the stairs dressed to impress. She was wearing a slutty evening dress: strapless on the back, low cut in the front, and short enough that you could see a peek of her butt cheeks when she walked. Her cleavage, of course, was massive and impressive, and a necklace adorned with large blue beads lead my eyes directly to the center of her white breasts.

“How do I look?” she asked, doing a spin. My wife had never looked better.

“I can’t believe it… I’m going to get fucked by Carter Smith!” The mother of two was screaming in the middle of her living room out of excitement for black dick.

“Yes, sweetie,” I said, forlornly, “Please. Just go. I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Ugh, when he chokes me, I hope I can take it!” she says, “I mean, I’ve been practicing, so there’s no way this fucker actually croaks me, right?”

I gulped. I had forgotten that in Carter’s hands, he held the power to turn my wife from a fuckable piece of ass to a lifeless body in a tight dress…

“Be careful,” was all I could say.

“Kisses,” she said, kissing me on each cheek. “I’ll see you when I get back… if I get back!”

—

I was entirely restless. I couldn’t just sit at home and wait while my wife was fucked and choked by a convict at the prison.

Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I got in my car and raced over the to prison. There, I parked on the side where I knew the conjugal trailers were, and I snuck up to the one that was clearly lit from the inside.

Peeking up, I just could make out a scene through the bottom of the drapes.

It was my Samantha! She was on her knees between his legs, dress rolled down to her waist. Her eyes were big and wide looking up at him, like a deer, with her mouth slightly parted.

He was buck naked, as black as ever. His big rod was hard and pointed threateningly at her lips. She held it playfully in her hand, pressing her massive breasts against the bottom of it. With her other hand, she massaged the left of his heaving full balls.

The scene was angelic, the cock so hard at her face, that I was surprised when she moved. Her little pink tongue appeared out of her lips and planted directly on the tip of his black cock.

“Mmm, get me worked up,” Carter said in his booming deep voice, “Because then, I want to fill you up.”

“Yes daddy,” Samantha said, that sweet voice, the love of my life, about to stuff her lips with Carter’s black dick.

She suckled at his cock head like a babe at the teat, her eyes still wide and innocent. He reached forward with his massive black hand and held her breast, tweaking her nipple with his thumb. He got it hard.

Drool began to spill from her lips. My wife wasted no time taking her hands and mashing her breasts against his cock, letting them lubricate with saliva, sliding his wet shaft in and out of her cleavage.

His hand moved from her nipple to her throat. Her eyes went even wider. He pressed.

I watched a jet of liquid shoot out of my wife’s pussy. It’s like he squeezed it out of her.

Her hips gyrated up and down, fucking her tits with his cock, while he choked her. Her face began to glow red.

“Mmmmmmm” she grunted out, moving faster.

His big black balls pulsed in her hand, covered in saliva.

“I knew the moment I saw you,” Carter said, teeth gritted, gnarly smile, my wife’s eyes meeting his even though she was too choked to speak, “That you’d be draining my balls. The moment you walked into the prison: this beautiful creature, with all your hopes and dreams and family. Trying to do ‘community service.’ I knew immediately. I knew immediately that you were nothing than a pair of big jugs and lips for me to shove my cock into.”

Something resembling a moan eeked out of my wife’s face.

As he pumped his hips into her mouth, I noticed Samantha turning from red to blue. He was voracious, just a fucking machine, big cock pumping hands choking, and I wondered if I needed to scream.

But he let go on his own. The color rushed into Samantha’s face: she coughed up chunks of white precum and drool onto his lap. Underneath her hips was a puddle of her own pleasure juices. She had gushed everywhere without even getting a cock inside her.

“Lick my balls,” he commanded, and Samantha my loving wife let his hard cock poke her face and dangle in her hair as she kissed every inch of his sweaty black balls.

“Soon, every drop in there will be inside you,” he warned, and I watched a droplet of fluid leak out of her pussy.

Samantha stood up, legs wobbling, and positioned herself demurely on the couch. Her legs were crossed, hands on her knees, tits jutting out. The marks on her neck were blood red.

Slowly, Samantha spread her legs, showing her wet dripping pussy to the black convict. He approached her, cock hard and outstretched, but the first contact he made was both hands around her throat.

Violently, he jerked her towards him and onto his cock. Her tits shook everywhere as every inch of his massive black member was slid inside my wife. The way he held her, by the neck, like he was taking out the trash, scarred me. It was clear, by the frenzy by which he fucked her, by the passion by which he thrust into her pussy, that he viewed my dear Samantha as nothing more than a piece of flesh designed to please his cock. He was going to squeeze the life out of her on his conquest to fill her pussy.

Viciously, he slammed Samantha’s body down horizontal onto the couch, following her with another deep plunge of his cock, never ending. His deep black balls swung against her bottom as he continued into her.

Samantha’s eyes rolled back in absolute pleasure. The trail of liquid leaving her sex could have fed a starving child.

Carter leaned forward and suckled from my wife’s dangling breasts; I, jealously, hid a hard-on. The sex Samantha was having was unlike any sex I had ever given her, unlike any sex I could give her. This was a man, a real man, fulfilling his primal purpose on this Earth: plugging the pussies of the most fertile woman in his reach. And I was left at the window, nervously watching, jerking into irrelevance.

Now, Samantha’s face turned blue. Carter’s big balls slammed over and over again into her behind. I realized, ultimately, how useless I was. My cock was in my hand, little and inflamed. I was stroking to the image of my wife getting obliterated, like a larger than life porno. I realized that even if he were to choke her out entirely, I would not do a thing. I’d be left to watch and stroke and fire my little load until he was done with her, whether her flesh was warm or cold.

Samantha smiled a drooly open mouth grin, eyes rolling back, as she succumbed to the ecstasy of his cock.

Then, it all changed. Carter seemed to adjust his movements. His balls, which before had been swinging with titanium force, now seemed to float in mid air.

Carter let one big thrust into my wife and held: held it tight, impossible to break. I watched as the mechanism of his cock sucked out the cum of his balls, moving like a gulping machine out of his sack and into my wife.

With every rope of jism fired into her, my blue face wife twitched orgasmically. Her nipples could cut diamonds. Carter, sadistically, continued to keep my wife’s neck crunched as he filled her up with his load.

“Just like the others,” Carter said with a snicker, “Just another rag for my load.”

He removed his hand, removed his cock, the semen dripping out like a bad oil change. Samantha’s face, frozen in ecstasy, stayed frosty blue.

“What a shame,” he said, wiping his cock onto her stomach, “I quite enjoyed our chats in the rec room.”

Tears filled my eyes as I watched Carter walk away from Samantha’s body.

Then–it all returned. Samantha leaped up. Air rushed into her lungs. She looked completely zen, smiling, full of love for the world.