Mean Cuckold, Scene #03

Eric Jover, scrawny, outmatched, sits in his boss’s office sweating under fluorescent lights. Ryan McLane never lets up. One late afternoon Eric opens his mouth to leave and McLane cuts him off with a phone call. Bring the wife. Now. Eric swallows it whole and drives home. Julie Cash steps inside wearing a low-cut black dress that barely holds her huge tits and thicker ass. Five minutes in, she and the boss are eye-fucking across the desk while Eric waits in the corner like a coat rack. McLane snaps his fingers, and Julie stands, peels the dress off, lets those pale mountains spill free. She drops straight to her knees, sucks Ryan’s cock down to the root with wet, greedy slurps. Her mascara runs in black trails. McLane tips his chin at Eric. The husband kneels behind her without hesitation, parts her heavy cheeks, and buries his face between them, tongue buried in her hot crack. Every breath he takes is thick with her sweat and Ryan’s cologne. Julie rocks her hips, grinding back so his nose disappears; he chokes but stays there, lapping while her lips work faster on her new lover. When she finally stands, strings of spit hang from her chin to Ryan’s pulsing cock. He bends her over the desk, spreads her wide, slams inside. Her thick thighs quiver with every thrust; the smack of skin on skin fills the room. Eric stays where she left him, face shiny, mouth still parted for more. McLane rides her hard, palms clapped on her wide ass for leverage until he pulls out and ropes thick, hot spurts across those jiggling cheeks, come sliding down her crack and dripping onto the carpet. Julie looks back, smiles, and tells Eric to clean it up.