My Wife's Bull and Me

My wife is not enough. He also wants me.

"Tomorrow afternoon, come back alone," he whispered so that my wife wouldn't hear.

"Alright," I replied immediately.

What could he want from me? Just a few minutes earlier, he had been wildly fucking my wife. I didn't know exactly what it was about, but I was certain I wouldn't want to miss it.

At three o'clock in the afternoon the next day, I returned to his house and rang the doorbell. He opened the door for me. Omar. A six-foot-three black stud, with a cock that, even at rest, was larger than mine could ever be when erect. He had an intimidatingly masculine presence: a powerful chest and defined abs, a self-assured gaze, and a deep yet pleasant voice that made you want to obey his every command.

He stood there in a bathrobe, and I had the impression that he was wearing nothing underneath.

"Here I am," I said in a submissive voice.

Omar looked me up and down with a note of disdain in his gaze, then invited me in a harsh voice, "Make yourself comfortable."

I crossed the threshold and closed the door behind me. Just as I was about to enter the living room, he pinned me against the wall and grabbed my right hand. He guided it onto his cock beneath the bathrobe, and I offered no resistance whatsoever.

"Touch it!" he ordered me, using the same imperious tone he always used with my wife and me.

I wrapped my trembling fingers around his cock. It was the first time I touched that long, thick, veiny appendage that I had often seen disappear into my wife's orifices. I cautiously moved my hand along the shaft. It was still flaccid, but even so, it made my own penis look like a clitoris.

"Feel how big it is," Omar whispered in my ear. "Did you enjoy seeing it disappear into your wife's ass yesterday?"

I swallowed. "Yes, very much."

"Today, it's your turn."

I widened my eyes. "No! It's too big! You would tear me apart!"

"No, you know it well. The anus is elastic. Did you see your wife yesterday? It seemed like she shouldn't have been able to fit, but in the end, she took it all and enjoyed it like a whore."

While he whispered these filthy things in my ear, I continued massaging his cock. Despite my fear, the thought of escaping that situation never crossed my mind.

"Today, you'll be my female," he continued, while with his left hand, he began to grope one of my buttocks. "You have a nice, firm ass. I noticed it yesterday."

"Pervert, what are you doing to me?"

"I'll prepare you for sodomy."

That word struck me: sodomy. A term that seemed technical, aseptic, and clinical yet felt so filthy in that context. I shuddered.

"And then I'll fuck you!"

"You'll hurt me..."

"You came all this way fully aware of what to expect. In fact, you were hoping for it."

"It's not true!"

"I noticed the way you looked at my cock yesterday. Your gaze betrayed the desire to suck it."

"It's not true! I admired the skill with which you fucked my wife, especially the way you opened her ass."

"Also, but not only that—if you could have, you would have sucked it all out of me."

"It's not true," I repeated.

My tone of voice betrayed the steadily diminishing credibility of my lies.

At that moment, Omar pushed my shoulder downward, and in an instant, I found myself kneeling before his large, semi-erect penis. Then he commanded, "Suck it."

I didn't hesitate. After a moment of contemplation, I leaned in and began to suck the glans.

Meanwhile, Omar began to address me, saying, "I'll split you in two, I'll smash your ass! I'll break you! I'll make you a woman! MY woman!"

Every word he spoke was a lash to my desire. I felt vulnerable and submissive. Nothing within me resisted. By now, I was completely at his mercy. Not even the fear of the pain I might endure could stop me from being his slut. I glanced to the side and saw my reflection in the mirror of the anteroom. I was on my knees, fully dressed, and I was sucking a cock much bigger than mine. What made my submission even more humiliating was the fact that I was caressing his hard, muscular thighs with absolute reverence. Just yesterday, I had seen those same thighs tense and harden while they were with my wife—that naked, pleasure-seeking bitch of my wife. But today, in her place, it was me. That man wanted to screw me over, completely, to the core, stretching me to the point of agony.

Despite my fear, I had no intention of fleeing. Now I knew what I wanted, and I was willing to pay the price. How many times had I backed out at the last minute? How many times had I masturbated and sucked off men in adult cinemas, only to disappear as soon as they invited me to follow them to the cinema's bathrooms?

I still remember the half-empty cinema.

I was sitting near the entrance to the bathrooms when a Latino man with a notably large cock, which I had sucked until it turned to marble, was lewdly touching his balls on the bathroom threshold, inviting me to follow him. I still wanted him in my mouth, and at the same time, I desired it in my ass, but I couldn't decide; I was afraid of the pain I might feel. At that moment, a very young boy knelt in front of him and started sucking him. The Hispanic guy shot me a look of disdain and then dragged the boy into the bathrooms.

I approached the entrance and saw them slip into a stall. Shortly after, a small scream followed by many moans made me realize what was happening. I should have been there in the boy's place—if only I had had more courage. I moved closer to try to see what was going on. I could hear the one doing the penetrating panting and the boy moaning, alternating with obscenities: "Bastard, you're breaking me, you're breaking everything!"

"Yes, little faggot, I'll break your ass! Take it all! I'll shove it all the way to your balls!"

I was there, feeling everything—envious of that usurper. That damn cock should have been mine; it was supposed to be mine. I was angry with myself for my cowardice, but I also became aroused. I slipped into the adjacent restroom and began to masturbate compulsively. I couldn't hold back. Their moans, the Latino's grunts, and the laments expressing the abandonment with which the boy allowed himself to be sodomized all compelled me to jerk off frantically until I came copiously, against my own will. I also mumbled softly.

The Hispanic man heard me. "Jerker, we heard you! Do you like how I fuck him?"

I wondered if the fucker knew it was me or if he thought I was just some random spectator who had entered the bathroom, drawn by the scene of the blowjob at the threshold. In any case, I replied, "Yes..."

"Come and see, so you can understand what a real man is like!"

I was desperate to go inside, even though the space was supposed to be small, but I felt embarrassed. I didn’t want him to realize it was me. I left stealthily, like a thief. I sat back down and resumed watching the film half-heartedly. What truly mattered, what genuinely excited me, wasn’t happening on the screen—where a beautiful porn star was being taken by two studs at once—but in the cinema’s restroom, where a boy was being powerfully fucked by a brutal, hyper-macho animal. And that treatment, that bastard fucker, he wanted to reserve it for me. He would have made me feel like a woman to the core. Women like my wife. My wife, yeah... I wonder how the Hispanic guy would have taken advantage of her if he had had her under him.

Before they left, at least twenty minutes had passed. The boy seemed exhausted but satisfied. He tried to kiss the Latino on the lips, but he disdainfully rejected him.

"I'm not a faggot like you," he said. Then he gave him a slap on the ass and added, "When you want more, you know where to find me."

They passed by me. The Latino, casting a look of disdain, said, "You don't know what you're missing. Tell him!" he ordered the boy.

The young guy obeyed, "Really, he has a wonderful cock and uses it skillfully. It was the best fuck of my life. You should try it; it would break you!"

I didn't have the courage to respond; I wanted to sink into the ground. The Hispanic man added, "When you want it, know that there's some for you too, faggot."

And now I was there, on my knees, sucking off another man's cock, more handsome and bigger than the Latino guy in the cinema, but above all, that day I wouldn't be able to escape. This time, I would become a true faggot.

At one point, Omar grabbed me by the hair and forced me to pull back. I let out a frustrated groan when I had to stop that wonderful blowjob.

"Follow me," he ordered in his usual imperious voice.

I obeyed. Neither he nor I spoke during the entire walk. That silence seemed to me more vulgar than any possible profanity. Omar knew what he wanted and left me no escape.

We were heading toward the bedroom. This meant that Omar didn’t want a brief, meaningless encounter—nothing predatory or fleeting. He was preparing for a solemn fuck. I thought, with my heart in my throat, that the long-awaited moment had finally arrived—the moment when I would be fully possessed by a man.

When we finally reached the room, Omar grabbed the bedside table drawer, took out a lubricant, and handed it to me while firmly ordering, "Lubricate the beast."

I promptly knelt before his hard cock and obeyed devoutly. Although it had partially softened during the walk, under my trembling touch, it quickly became erect and firm between my fingers.

"Do you like touching it?"

I did not respond verbally. Instead, I leaned forward and gently kissed the head of his cock. Then, I poured lubricant onto my hand and began to masturbate him, to oil him. The ebony giant allowed me to continue for a minute or two before instructing me in an equally stern tone, "Go to bed now! Get on all fours!"

Once again, I carried out the order. I was trembling, not so much from fear of pain but from excitement. The moment I had been waiting for my entire life—the one I had longed for so many times—had finally arrived! I had pulled back so many times in the past, just a step away from the goal, but now nothing and no one would stop Omar from claiming me, from making me his whore. I would have welcomed another man's cock inside me; my ass would have his vagina.

Behind me, I sensed Omar. I was forced to lean forward and remain pinned as his palm applied heavy pressure to my back. Then, for a brief period, he anointed my ass's virgin little hole. He grasped my hips, putting his arm beneath my stomach with one hand while pressing the head of his big cock into my asshole with the other. I jerked when he pressed against it. You may always stop inserting a few fingers if it hurts, but how can you stop a lustful man from opening your ass? Even though I was excited, I was still a little hesitant.

Omar started to push. I could feel his member pressing against my anus's folds. He sensed that I was tight, so he widened my buttocks with his left hand—the one that had led the member up to that point—and then slapped them with his right and left hands.

"Faggot, you'll discover that you enjoy it. I'll let you in on everything! Now unwind."

I did not resist once again. I felt his head move inside of me a moment later, and Omar grasped me by both hips when it was just deep enough to stay within. The beast started to exert more force. The lubrication was working, but I could feel the discomfort getting worse as the hole got bigger. I tried to pull away instinctively, but Omar's hold on my hips stopped me.

There was a closet with a mirror in front of the bed. I swept my eyes over the reflection of our bodies. I could see the anguish on my face and the effort on his.
Omar's massive hands refused to let go. I felt confined. "Don't run away, faggot, or I'll open up your whole ass!" Omar groaned as I attempted to extract him once more.

I screamed, "Ah, you hurt me, bastard! You're smashing my asshole!" in an attempt to partially ease my suffering.

"And you want it, don't you? Faggot, you have a great, tight hole! The head is already in, so hurry up. You'll see, everything will go by now, and you'll come to appreciate it."

After that, it appeared to cease, allowing me to relax and collect my breath. I shouted as Omar violently thrust his big shaft inside of me when the pain eased. He stayed motionless, deep within me. Above all, I felt painfully full as I felt the hair of his pubis against my asshole.

How many times had I imagined something like this? Even though it hurt and I wanted to kick him out of my anus, I restrained myself since, in the end, I enjoyed it. Even though I didn't feel any physical pleasure at the moment, the thought of being nude beneath a man and being violently seized by a male better endowed than me thrilled me to no end.

I had less pain as the rhythm got more regular. My insides gradually adjusted to that out-of-proportion cock. Omar sensed it and accelerated. His hard piece of flesh pistoned into my rectum, and I could feel the friction. I experienced contradictory feelings with each thrust. I didn't think I could withstand such penetration for very long, especially when he shoved it all the way in and the bastard continued to try to go farther and farther. I sensed his entry and exit. I had a lubricating feeling.

When he finally pulled out, I experienced an odd, almost painful feeling, and I wished he had done it more gradually. Then he thrust it all back in, hard, all at once, before my ass could close. I let out a yell. I could now experience the sensation of being entered. I now understood my wife's feelings after Omar had penetrated her. Since my wife was already accustomed to taking it in the ass from me before she met her bull, I actually felt something stronger and more intense because the girth of the cock that was slamming my ass was three times larger than mine.

I looked at myself in the mirror, a scowl of mixed pleasure and pain warping my face. His body was statuesque, and his face had an animalistic quality. I could see the hair on his wide chest, the part of his powerful, muscular thighs that stuck out from mine, and the muscles in his belly clenching with each thrust inside me. The arms he used to hold me were fixed to his strong, colorful pelvis. His hands held me securely in place, and every muscle in his arm and forearm was taut to the point of cramping. The skin under his fingertips hurt me, and for a second I thought he might leave me bruised. I caressed my small penis with my right hand as my left arm was strained from supporting his bent torso and the intensity of his thrusts. I had a large piece of meat in my ass while I was jerking myself off.

"Do you enjoy it, huh?" Omar began whispering obscenities to me. "Do you enjoy the way I fuck you? Answer me, faggot!"

I said, "Yes, I enjoy it. You hurt me, but I like it."

"And why am I hurting you?"

"Because you are huge... because you fuck me hard... because you tear me apart..."

It would have been easy to groan, but I knew what he wanted from me, so I found it difficult to reply. He wanted to dominate not just my body but also my mind, and he wanted me to honor his oppressive virility through words. Without a doubt, he wanted to control me in every manner.

It would have been easy to groan, but I knew what he wanted from me, so I found it difficult to reply. He wanted to dominate not just my body but also my mind, and he wanted me to honor his oppressive virility through words. He undoubtedly intended to control me in every manner.

"Yes, I'll split you open! I'll smash you! I'll smash your ass! Ah, yes, how tight you are!"

He was really crushing my asshole. Now I knew why my wife had referred to it as "the pleasure rod." I couldn't tell if he actually fucked well because I hadn't tried other men to compare; all I could think of was that he had succeeded in making a massive member that measured twenty-four centimeters in length and six in diameter vanish into a tiny, dark hole in my ass. I was beginning to love it now that it was entirely planted inside, that I could feel his belly adhering to my buttocks, and that I could feel the tuft of hair from his member entwining with my anus.

Omar once raised himself such that he was straddling me. His pelvis had lifted a few centimeters, and his legs now towered over me. The member was now entering me diagonally from above as a result of that shift, which gave me new anguish.

"Do you like how I ride you?" he asked, pleased with his masculine superiority.

At first, I didn't respond; the pain was too intense. Finally, I hissed, "Yes... ahhh... yes..."

"Why do you like it?"

"Because I feel it all... to the core."

"Do I fit you well?"

"Yes, you are a wonderful stud."

"And think about when I was fucking your wife! Cuck, do you like the idea of how I was banging her right in front of you?"

A shock to the head was coupled to the tremendous bodily sensations I was going through. My psyche was broken by the picture of my wife. I recalled her being fucked the day before while lying on the bed. I pictured her watching us and having fun while squirming like a crazy person. I pictured her touching me and sensing my hardness and erectness. I thought he was insulting me by saying, "You enjoy it, pervert! I've never felt someone so hard as you.

In my fantasy, I replied to her: "And you have no idea how big and hard he is. He's an alpha male, I love how he's pounding me.... Yes, I love it, I love it... I love it soooooooo much!"

I was brought back to reality as a little shit by a blow that was stronger than the others. I made an effort to move my hand so I could feel his balls slamming against me. "Oh, how hard they are your balls! You're pushing it all the way in!"

There was no reply. His main focus was giving me forceful thrusts to get satisfaction since he was excited. He slid swiftly within me, inside my wretched and tattered asshole, and I saw his image in the mirror, blowing like a bellows. He even found it difficult to keep up with the frantic pace of the fucking.

How much time had I spent beneath that stud? I would have said an eternity. Of course, for a minimum of twenty minutes. He continued to thrust forcefully. I lost all comprehension when he quickened the beat. I started rotating my hips and pushing my ass in the direction of his huge cock, which favored a deeper penetration that was both painful and exquisite. In an attempt to keep up with him and avoid cumming right away, I accelerated the speed of my saw. I could feel his member hardening and thrusting harder. In defiance of my own expectations and in accordance with my deepest desires, I was enjoying the fact that he was fucking and ravaging me. My ass was being severely split by a man. My long-held teenage dream was coming true, and I was enjoying it.

"Enjoy, pervert!" she shouted at me. "You're a lustful whore! You love getting your ass broken... Ah, I love it too! I cum! I cum! I cum in your asshole!"

He had a lot of cum, and his splashes cleaned my ass. I was struck violently, violently, and deeply with every burst that out, and a small amount of sperm settled deeply within of me. The white, tasty sperm that I had licked the day before, when Omar had raped my wife, was now erupting inside of me and settling deeply, like though it were the core of my being and consciousness.

"Me too, me too!" I echoed him. "I love it too! Yes, so, smash me, smash my ass! Break me, smash me... I love it.. ah, I cum, I cum, I cum too!"

The last word died in my throat, and I collapsed exhausted on the mattress.

Omar finished with thrusts that were progressively more pleasurable and spaced out, yet he was able to stay on top of me despite my collapse. He halted inside me, his member still nice and hard, buried deep, slowing down like a train coming at the station. I was unable to move, and I had no desire to do so. I wanted to really enjoy those feelings. I wanted them to get inside of me so I could permanently and irrevocably commit them to memory. Now that everything was gradually disappearing, I would have like it to last forever.

I had enjoyed with an intensity never imagined. There were no rips in my conscience; my entire being was there, spirit and body fully present, as it had never happened to me while having sex. I was discovering my true nature, or just a second nature? I didn't know. The only thing I knew was I had been sodomized by a 'real' and well-endowed male, who had already enjoyed fucking my woman, my wife. I had to make a considerable effort, and then was well rewarded, to take him all inside me. I had reached the borders of the absolute; if I had crossed them, I would have gone mad, there, in that moment, with that wonderful, gigantic, hard rod planted inside... deeply inside me.

What about him? Did he enjoy it? I would say yes based on the shouts, hits, and abundant ejaculation, but did he find it as enjoyable as I did?

Omar told me to go shower off after extracting his semi-rigid beast from my bruised ass. When I did, I saw blood and semen seeping from my large, bruised orifice. Fortunately, more sperm than blood. Omar might take great pride in having stolen my anal virginity.

Omar joined me in the restroom shortly after, asking me whether it hurt as he washed his cock. I said, "No, not much."

After that, we returned to the room and lay down on the bed. His big cock lay along the left thigh, now soft but still menacing. I stared at it in disbelief, unable to believe that anything that huge had completely penetrated my ass. I lay down on the bed too.

Omar asked me, "How was it?"

"Wonderful," I replied and went to plant a kiss on his forehead. "I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did."

Omar smiled proudly: "Yes, I did. You are better than many women I have fucked."

"Thank you for the compliment." I felt like a whore to the core. "For what reason did you fuck me?"

"Do you really want to know?"

I nodded.

"I only started because your wife told me that if I wanted her ass again, I had to first fuck you. But I loved it."

"So... would you do it again?" I asked. My heart was racing, and I feared a rejection as a response.

Omar thought for a few seconds, then replied, "I'll do it again! It depends only on you."

He had already begun caressing my ass tenderly, as though the flesh he had just destroyed fascinated him. His gentleness shocked me after all the cruelty he had inflicted upon me. I gave his cock's head another delicate kiss out of happiness and renewed desire. I would have started licking everything, sucking it, and giving him a blowjob if I hadn't been scared to go beyond what was permitted. However, I refrained, kissed the big head of his cock once more, and stood up.

My wife, who had used her second meeting with Omar to enable me to satisfy an almost instinctive need, came to mind. I was grateful to think about her. She was extremely familiar with me—possibly even more so than I was.

I could now at last accept who I really was—a faggot.