Mark gets his Christmas present

Ever since the start of their Hotwife / bull relationship Mark has desired one thing. After an afternoon shopping he gets an early Christmas gift

Rachel navigated the throng of shoppers at Meadowhall, the shopping centre's escalators humming like a mechanical heartbeat under the fluorescent lights. Christmas decorations dangled from the ceilings, tinsel-wrapped baubles and plastic reindeer. She clutched a few bags from the high street stores, her jeans hugging her hips and her woollen jumper soft against her skin. No bra today; the fabric brushed her nipples with every step, a deliberate tease. The new bar piercing in her left nipple caught on the wool occasionally, sending a sharp zing straight to her core. Andy had grinned when she'd shown it to him a few days ago, his fingers already twisting it until she was begging. "This'll make you desperate for cock," he'd said, and damn if he wasn't right.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A text from Andy: *Kids are with me till late. Have fun. Send pics.* She smiled, typing back a quick *Will do. Miss you.* Then another buzz, Mark: *At the coffee spot by M&S. Where are you?* Rachel glanced at the time. Flexi day from work meant she could stretch this out, no rush.

She'd met Mark months ago through a friend, but their connection had exploded into raw, physical need. He wanted her ass—had made that clear from the start—and after the chaos of her early hotwifing days, she and Andy had set rules. Consent, updates, boundaries. Anal was on the table today, but she'd make him earn it.

She spotted him at a small table, his broad shoulders filling out a plain black t-shirt, jeans stretched over thick thighs. Mark looked up as she approached, his eyes lighting up with that hungry glint. "Rachel," he said, standing to kiss her cheek, his hand lingering on her waist. The domesticity hit her, sitting here amid families and festive shoppers, sipping overpriced lattes, like they were just two people catching up. But she knew better. Under the table, her foot nudged his calf, a promise.

They chatted about nothing, work gripes, the ridiculous Christmas crowds, while Rachel's mind wandered to the bag from Ann Summers tucked under her chair. She'd slipped in there earlier, heart pounding as she picked out a small, curved vibrator and a tube of anal lube. Not the cheap stuff; this was silky, warming. For later. Mark's gaze kept dropping to her jumper, and she shifted, letting the fabric pull tight across her chest. "You look good," he murmured, voice low. "Always do."

Rachel leaned in, her voice a whisper. "I've got a surprise for you." She pulled the Ann Summers bag onto her lap, unzipping it just enough to flash the vibrator's packaging. Mark's eyes widened, then darkened. "Fuck, Rachel. Planning ahead?"

"Always," she replied, zipping it shut. Her phone was out next, snapping a quick selfie, lips pursed, jumper tugged tight to hug her breasts, and sending it to Andy. *Coffee with Mark. Thinking of you.* His reply came fast: *Hot. What's in the bag?* She smirked, typing *Toys. You'll hear all about it.*

The coffee stretched into an hour, the teasing building. Rachel crossed her legs, feeling the seam of her jeans press against her clit. Mark's foot mirrored hers, sliding up her ankle. "I want you," he said bluntly, when the small talk died. "All of you. Today."

She met his eyes, heat pooling low in her belly. "You know the rules. Andy's okay with it. But you'll have to beg for the best parts." His jaw tightened, but he nodded, the lust in his stare making her nipples ache against the piercing.

They left the mall together, the winter air biting as they headed to his car in the multi-story lot. Mark's hand found her lower back, guiding her. Once inside, the door shut with a solid thunk, and the space felt smaller, charged. He started the engine, pulling out, but his right hand was on her thigh before they'd cleared the first ramp. Rachel spread her legs slightly, the denim warm under his palm as he stroked higher. "Tell me what you bought," he demanded, voice rough.

"Vibrator. Lube," she said, her hand moving to his zipper. She fished out his cock, already half-hard, thick in her grip. Mark groaned as she stroked him, slow and firm, thumb circling the head. The car bumped over a speed hump, and his hips jerked. "Fuck, Rachel. You're killing me."

"Good," she purred, edging him, tightening her fist on the upstroke, loosening just as he tensed. His fingers dug into her thigh, inching toward her crotch. She texted Andy a blurry pic of the dashboard, her free hand in frame: *On our way home. He's hard already.* Andy: *Make him wait. I want you soaked.*

The drive was torture, Mark's breathing ragged as she brought him to the brink three times, stopping each with a squeeze at the base. "Not yet," she whispered, loving the power. By the time they pulled into her driveway, his cock was leaking, flushed red.

Mark killed the engine and lunged, pinning Rachel against the passenger door before she could unbuckle. His mouth crashed into hers, tongue demanding, hands yanking at her jumper. But he went lower, unbuttoning her jeans with frantic fingers. "Need to feel you," he growled, shoving the denim and her knickers down to her ankles. Rachel kicked off one shoe, spreading her legs as best she could in the confined space. His fingers plunged into her pussy, two, then three, vigorously curling, slick sounds filling the car. She stroked his dick in rhythm, her other hand fisting his shirt. "So wet for me," he muttered against her neck. "Gonna fuck this married pussy raw."

"Yes," she gasped, hips bucking. "Rail me, Mark. Make me your slut." The words ignited him; his thumb ground her clit, and she came fast, clenching around his fingers, a sharp cry escaping. The fact that they were meters away from the road and visible to passer by heightened her pleasure. He didn't stop, drawing it out until she trembled.

Panting, Rachel pulled away, tugging her jeans back up haphazardly. "Inside. Now." She led him through the front door, the house quiet, kids with Andy, no interruptions till evening. Up the stairs to the guest bedroom, master off-limits. That was Andy's domain, where he'd reclaim her later, her stories spilling as he fucked her slow and deep.

In the guest room, Rachel stripped first, peeling off the jumper to reveal her bare breasts. Mark's eyes locked on the silver bar through her left nipple, glinting in the afternoon light filtering through the blinds. "Holy shit," he breathed, stepping closer, shedding his own clothes. His cock bobbed free, hard and veined. "When did you get that?"

"Andy suggested it," she said, cupping her breast, tweaking the piercing herself. A jolt shot through her, making her pussy throb. "Makes me so fucking sensitive."

Mark's hands were on her in seconds, thumbs brushing both nipples, then pinching the pierced one lightly. Rachel moaned, arching into him. He'd always known playing with her tits got her worked up, but this? The bar amplified every tug, every roll, turning her knees weak. "Feels incredible," he said, latching his mouth onto it, sucking hard. His teeth grazed the metal, and she gripped his hair, grinding against his thigh. "Gonna make you beg to be filled."

They had time, no rush, so it started slow. Rachel pushed him onto the bed, kneeling between his legs. She took his cock in her mouth, tongue swirling the head before sliding down, inch by inch. Mark's hands tangled in her hair, guiding her deeper. "Fuck, your mouth," he groaned as she gagged, throat tightening around him. She spluttered, saliva dripping, but took him to the hilt, nose brushing his pubes. He fucked her throat in shallow thrusts, the wet sounds obscene. "That's it, choke on my dick, Rachel."

She pulled off gasping, strings of spit connecting her lips to his shaft. "You love using my mouth, don't you?" Her hand pumped him as she caught her breath.

"Every hole," he said, eyes dark. He shifted, pulling her up the bed so her pussy hovered over his face. They 69'd, Rachel resuming her blowjob while Mark's tongue delved into her folds. He ate her like a man starved, lapping at her clit, then lower, rimming her ass with firm circles. The sensation made her whimper around his cock, relaxing her muscles. His finger joined, slick with her juices, pressing in slowly. "Gonna open you up," he murmured, the vibration against her pussy making her buck.

Rachel ground down, taking his tongue deeper while she deepthroated him again. The dual assault built fast, his finger in her ass, tongue flicking her clit and she came shuddering, flooding his mouth. "Mark... fuck!" She rode the waves, sucking him harder until he was thrusting up, close himself.

But she stopped, climbing off. "Not yet." Straddling him, she sank onto his cock, her pussy stretching around him. The piercing rubbed against his chest as she rode, slow at first, then faster, chasing another peak. Mark's hands gripped her hips, thumbs teasing her nipples. "Ride me, you hotwife slut," he grunted. "Your husband's toy, but this pussy's mine right now."

The dirty talk pushed her over; she clenched, orgasming hard, nails digging into his shoulders. Mark flipped her onto her back, he let her set the pace before surging up, pounding into her. They switched to doggy, Rachel on all fours, ass up. He slammed in, balls slapping her clit. One hand reached for the lube from the bedside, she'd placed it there earlier. Slicking his finger, he eased it into her ass, matching his thrusts. "Feel that? Getting you ready for my cock."

"Yes," she moaned, pushing back. "More." He grabbed the small vibrator, buzzing it to life and sliding it alongside his finger, the vibrations humming through her. Rachel's world narrowed to the fullness, the stretch. She came again, pussy spasming, squirting a little onto the sheets.

Mark pulled out, lubing his cock generously. "Beg me, Rachel. Tell me you want it in your ass."

She glanced over her shoulder, smirking through the haze. "Fuck my ass, Mark. Claim it. But make it hurt so good."

He positioned her on top first, her controlling the descent. The head breached her, slow burn turning to exquisite pressure. She sank down, inch by inch, gasping as he filled her. "So tight," he hissed, hands on her breasts, twisting the piercing. Rachel rocked, setting a rhythm, the vibrator now buzzing against her clit from his fingers. It built slow, intense, until she was bouncing, begging. "Harder... rail my ass!"

Mark took over, flipping her to all fours. He gripped her hips, thrusting deep, the slap of skin echoing. "This ass is mine," he growled. "Gonna mark you, fill you up." Rachel pushed back, the angle hitting every nerve. "Yes, fuck me like a married whore. Make me cum on your dick." She did, shattering around him, her cries muffled into the pillow. Mark followed, burying deep, pulsing hot cum into her ass.

They collapsed, sweaty and spent, lying tangled in the sheets. Rachel's body hummed, aftershocks rippling. Mark traced lazy circles on her stomach. "That was... intense."

She turned to him, nuzzling his neck. "We should do more. Another threesome. But here. With Andy."

Mark tensed, his hand stilling. "Andy?" He wasn't a stranger to threesomes, they'd had an impromptu one a few weeks back at his house after a Halloween party, him and his son Mike tag-teaming her in a blur of costumes and lust. But that was different. "Might be weird."

Rachel propped on an elbow, her pierced nipple brushing his arm. "Our thing exists because of Andy. He's not some cuck I'm replacing you for, he's in it. Wants to watch, join. I want both of you fucking me. Or nothing."

He searched her face, then nodded slowly. "Alright. If that's what you want."

She kissed him, deep and satisfied. "It is." Slipping from bed, Rachel headed to the en-suite shower, the hot water cascading like a warm rain. Mark joined her moments later, soaping her back, hands roaming. The steam filled the space, their bodies slick. He pressed her against the tiled wall, one hand pinning both of hers above her head. "One more," he whispered, his free hand sliding between her legs, fingers circling her clit.

Rachel moaned, arching. "Use me." He fingered her relentlessly, the water pounding down, building her fast. She came with a shout, legs shaking. Mark spun her, pulling out of her pussy where he'd slipped in mid-orgasm, and stroked himself to finish, ropes of cum painting her ass cheeks, mixing with the water.

They rinsed off, towelling dry in comfortable silence. Mark dressed, kissing her goodbye at the door. "Text me about that threesome."

"Will do," she said, watching his car pull away.

Rachel tidied the guest room, fresh sheets, vibrator tucked away, her body still tingling. She texted Andy: *He's gone. Kids with you? Come home soon. I'll tell you everything over dinner... and show you how he marked me. Bedtime's gonna be filthy.* His reply: *Can't wait. Save some for me, slut.* She laughed, the promise of his reclaiming making her wet all over again. Christmas shopping had never been so rewarding.

If you want to read more about our lives, both before and after our wedding then look up our other stories /authors/rachels-cuck