The Bull Read online

  The Bull

  By Ron Dawes

  [email protected]

  Text Copyright 2017 Ron Dawes

  Inspired by a true story from one of my readers

  I guess every married couple’s sex life slows down with each anniversary, but that doesn’t make it any easier to accept. When I married Kay, I knew she had been pretty wild in her single days, more so than myself. I quickly learned not to ask her about her past, unless I wanted the honest answers, and I didn’t really want to know the details. It made me a bit insecure, to be truthful.

  In the early years of our marriage, she was very adventurous and she never shied away from trying new positions; at least, new to me. We had sex in all sorts of places. She seemed to be thrilled by the prospect of being caught. She was a dream wife; nice figure, ripe tits that loved to be played with, pretty face and always ready and willing.

  It seemed with each anniversary, sex became a bit more routine, a bit more mundane, and a lot less spontaneous. By the time we hit our twelfth, our marriage was no longer fun. We didn’t really fight, but we didn’t really love, either. Kay was a trooper, once or twice a week, but she didn’t seem excited about it, and it almost wasn’t worth the trouble to convince her to have sex. I suspected she masturbated when she was alone, but based on her response to me in bed, I doubt she fantasized about me while doing so.

  I began to daydream about our sex life in earlier days, and that led to daydreaming about other women. The internet was always there, ready to entertain my fantasies. I went to bed later than Kay most nights, and I would close the door to my office, turn on my computer, and browse the internet, looking at porn.

  I quickly decided that my favorite sites were devoted to men sharing pictures and videos of their wives. Real people, not porn stars. The vids weren’t as polished, and the women weren’t always as hot as the girls on the professional porn sites, but knowing that these were real wives being shared by their men made it that much more exciting. Clearly, the husbands and boyfriends enjoyed the knowledge that unknown thousands of men were masturbating to the images of their wives, and I’m sure the women were just as excited, exposing themselves.

  All of these sites also had forums where people could post on-line, about all sorts of topics, and of course they also had personals, with men looking to hook up in real life to share their wives. I always browsed those personals, trying to envision myself participating, either with someone else’s wife, or sharing my own. It was exciting to think about.

  I brought up the idea of a threesome with Kay once early on in our marriage, but with another woman, not a man. She had once told me that she had a lesbian affair with a friend in college. She didn’t say no to a threesome with another woman, but she challenged me to have a threesome with another man. I could imagine my horny wife, masturbating while watching me have sex with a man. I admit I considered it, but only briefly. I’m comfortable enough with my sexuality to wonder what it would be like, but I guess I just wasn’t ready to cross that line. I’m still not.

  One night, as I browsed my favorite hot wife sites, to see if there were any new videos or pictures of interest, I happened across a posting from a man looking to seduce other men’s wives. The post had a picture of a middle aged man on a Harley. He looked to be about the same age as Kay and me, around forty-two. He looked rugged, with a full beard, tattoos and big muscles. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a leather, sleeveless vest, unbuttoned.

  The posting was titled, “Bull for your Wife.”

  I opened the post, and saw that he had posted several pictures of himself, nude. The first picture I saw was a full frontal of the man with a raging erection. His dick was enormous. While he had a hairy body, his groin was shaved smooth, making his erection seem even larger. The caption of that picture read, “Would your wife like to suck on this?”

  I scrolled through the rest of his photos. There were closed ups of his many tattoos, pictures of him pegging other men’s wives and more nude photos by himself. He wasn’t smiling in any of them, even when mounting the other men’s wives. It was clear that he was all business, and his business appeared to be cuckolding.

  I emailed the guy on a lark, saying, “Yes, I think my wife would enjoy sucking on that.” I wanted to see what he would say. He responded, sending more nude pictures, and asked to see a picture of Kay. I sent him a picture of her in a bathing suit, with the face cropped out. He was impressed, and wanted to meet her. This was going a bit too fast for me, and I told him I’d get back to him.

  I asked Kay the next night if she ever fantasized about having sex with another man. She insisted she didn’t, that she took her wedding vows seriously. She seemed upset that I would even hint at that. I didn’t need her angry at me, so I told her I was only role playing, that it was a fantasy of mine that I would never want to happen in real life. Kay had enjoyed role play when we were first married, and she didn’t need much encouragement to play along.

  “Well, to be honest,” she said. “When you travel on business, I masturbate while dreaming about other men coming over and making love to me. I know it’s naughty, but I get so horny without you, I can’t help it.”

  “What do those men do to you?”

  “They wait until you’ve been gone a couple of days, when I’m really horny. They know I’m horny because I’m alone. Then they seduce me, licking my cunt until I’m so delirious with lust I can’t resist their advances.”

  “What do they do when you get that delirious?”

  “I don’t know. I get so horny, I can’t think straight. All I know is that they wind up inside me, filling my need, pumping me until they cum in me.”

  I was starting to get seriously turned on, listening to my sexy wife talking like this.

  “So your husband is out of town now?” I asked her.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “How long has he been gone?”

  “Almost a week.”

  “What have you done with yourself, alone all week?”

  “I don’t know what you mean?”

  “Have you played with that naughty little pussy? Have you missed his touch so much, you’ve had to touch yourself?”

  “You have no right to talk to me that…”

  I cut her off. “Does your naughty little pussy itch right now? I’ll bet it does. I bet your cunt needs something stiff right this second, while you play with yourself until it starts twitching. Doesn’t it?”

  “P…p…please…”

  “Doesn’t it!” I yelled.

  “Please don’t make me say….”

  “Doesn’t it!” I yelled louder.

  She looked embarrassed, and she softly said, “Yes.”

  Unzipping my pants, I let them drop and pulled down my underwear. “Is this what that naughty pussy needs?”

  She merely nodded her head.

  “What if I don’t want to give it to you?”

  “Please,” she pleaded.

  “Drop down to your knees. I’ll decide if, and when to fill your naughty, cheating, fucking cunt.”

  She knelt in front of me and began to take my stiff dick in her mouth.

  “Not so fast. Take off your fucking top.”

  She quickly obeyed, pulling off her top. Even though her breasts are large, she rarely wears a bra at home when we’re alone. She wasn’t wearing one now.

  “Nice,” I said, surveying her ripe tits. They’ve always been my favorite part of Kay’s body. “I wonder if your husband fully appreciates those fantastic tits. Does he?”

  She didn’t answer, as her mouth was full with my erection. She’s a fabulous cock sucker, though she hadn’t sucked me off in years. She wrapped her lips around my cock, pulled back her teeth, and began fucking me, long strokes. Her tongue ran up and down my shaft as her
head went back and forth. I could have easily allowed her to continue until I filled her mouth; nothing would have felt better. But I had other plans.

  “Stand up and take off those jeans,” I ordered. She stood and peeled them off. “And those wet panties!” She peeled them off. I stood there, looking at her, my dick bobbing. “I know you haven’t gone without an orgasm for almost a week, while you’re husband’s been gone, have you?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Have you?” I repeated. “You’ve played with yourself every night he’s been gone, haven’t you? You can’t resist touching yourself while splayed out on your bed, naked. Can you?”

  She still didn’t answer.

  “You’re a horny slut, unable to keep your hands off your dirty pussy. How do you masturbate, while he’s away? Do you stuff your fingers in your cunt and play with yourself? Do you use a machine?”

  She didn’t answer. She just stood there, naked, looking embarrassed and humiliated that a stranger would know she was playing with herself. I stood, silent, unwilling to break the silence. The silence grew awkward, and she cracked first.

  “I use a machine,” she said softly.

  “What’s that? I didn’t hear you.”

  “I said, I use a machine,” she said, a little louder.

  “You use what?”

  “I use a machine,” she yelled. “I use a fucking vibrator, and I hold it to my cunt until I explode in orgasm. Okay?”

  “Go get it.” When she didn’t move, I added, “NOW!”

  She went into our bedroom and came back with a vibrator, one that she had used many times before, both with me and alone.

  “Lay back on the couch,” I said, as I guided her into a sitting position on the arm of the couch. Once seated, she lay back with her legs dangling over the arm of the couch. I put a pillow under her butt, raising her groin. “Turn on that fuck machine.” She switched it on, and I could hear it humming. “Let me see what you do when you get too horny to wait for your husband. Let me see what you do when you think about me, a stranger, coming to fill you with my stiff cock.”

  She brought the vibrator to her clit and teased it, drawing circles around it. I knelt in front of her and lifted the backs of her thighs, raising her legs. Lowering my face toward her cunt, I began lapping at her hole, pressing my tongue against it, toying with the opening, tasting her salty musk. She groaned as the machine began having an effect on her. Harder and harder I pressed my tongue against her opening, trying to penetrate it. She moaned with delight.

  I lapped at her opening for two minutes, three, then four as the vibrator kept up its steady, rhythmic assault on her clit. She writhed on the couch, groaning as she neared her climax.

  “Now,” she grunted, almost incoherently.

  “What?” I asked. She grunted at the absence of the tongue.

  “Now,” she repeated. “I want you now.”

  “You want what now?”

  “I want you to plug my cunt with your fucking dick. NOW!”

  She had to move the machine away from her clit more and more frequently now, to keep from cumming.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want that hard dick in me while I cum. NOW!”

  I speared her cunt, and it easily accommodated my stiff dick in a single thrust. Her cunt was completely lubricated in her extreme arousal, and my dick glided in her smoothly. I pounded her, harder than I’d done in years. She grunted with each impact, and by the fourth thrust she began jerking through an intense orgasm.

  In the throes of her orgasm, the contractions of her cunt squeezed my dick unbearably pleasurably, and I felt an intense warm glow throughout my body as I filled her with my cum. Grunting, I pumped her as she milked my balls dry.

  We hadn’t had sex that urgent in a long time, and we continued role playing about her with other men. There was no doubt in my mind that it was a favorite fantasy of hers from the way she responded. We continually thought of new twists on the theme.

  One night, I made her dress in a tight outfit without a bra. Her breasts are much too large, and her nipples too sensitive to go braless in public, but we did it anyway. We went to the mall and entered Macy’s. She pretended to be helping me shop for clothes. The only females in the Men’s department were the sales clerks. The store was busy, and there were plenty of men in the department. It was obvious they were staring at Kay, and she basked in the attention. The men tried to conceal their interest, but whenever she looked away, they took the opportunity to steal a glance.

  We went from store to store, driving the strangers mad with desire, then we went home and fucked as though it were the first time. It was amazing how horny she was from the fantasy of me sharing her with other men.

  Meanwhile, I kept up my correspondence with the bull from the website. Part of the reason I corresponded with him was to think of new ideas to bring to our role play. Part of it was stringing along the sap. He was really an arrogant asshole, and I had fun jerking him around. And, of course, part of it was the fascination about actually sharing my wife. Okay, that was mostly the reason I kept in touch with him. When I messaged the bull, it was easy to imagine that we were really negotiating the logistics of getting my wife together with someone who would take her.

  Early in our conversation, he had begun calling me ‘sissy’, and ‘cuck’, and other derogatory names. But what really pissed me off was his presumption that all Kay had to do was see him and she’d immediately want to fuck him.

  “So how do you see this playing out?” I asked him in a message.

  “Give me your address, and I’ll take care of that. I’ll come pick her up on my bike and give her a ride.”

  “What if she says no?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” he wrote. “I’ll take care of that.”

  “I don’t think she’d go for it.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of that.”

  “What do I say to her?”

  “You don’t say shit, man. You’d only fuck it up. You just give me your address, let me know when she’s there, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “What do you mean, I don’t say shit. You don’t want me to set it up?”

  “Hell, no. You can’t set up anything. How often does she even let you have sex? You can’t even get her to have sex with you very often. How are you going to convince her to have sex with a stranger?”

  “How can you be so sure she’ll have sex with you?”

  “Because she’s used to a sissy cuck. The Bull will be a welcome change for her.”

  The guy was comical, talking about himself in the third person like that. The Bull, he called himself.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think she’d go for it.”

  “You know she would, because she’s sick of a sissy cuck. You’re the one that’s chickening out. But you’ll be back, because you’re a cuck, and you’ll always be a cuck.”

  I was becoming irritated. How did this fucker presume to know anything at all about me?

  “What makes you think I’m a sissy cuck? You don’t know me.”

  “Because you responded to my post. Only a cuck would respond to a post like that. You’re a cuck, and you want to see your wife get what she deserves. You’re tired of watching her wither on the vine, without a man to take care of her. You’d love to watch her get what she needs. But you know what? You won’t get to watch. I’ll take her alone, without you to sit there watching, pulling your limp little dick. And once she’s fucked me once, she’ll be my slut until I tire of her. She’ll have nothing to do with you. You’ll be cut off, while I’m using her. Once she’s out of my rotation, you can have her back; if she’ll have you. But I warn you; once a woman has a big, hard cock, she might not go back to a sissy cuck. Decision time, sissy.”

  “Fuck you, dickwad.”

  “You’re real brave, since I don’t have your address. I wonder what you’d call me if I knew where to come find you. Probably Sir.”

  My heart pounded, as
though there were real danger that he would find me. I’d never sent him a picture of myself, and I used a Gmail account that nobody knew about to talk to him. I closed my computer and went to bed. Still, I couldn’t help but think about this man using my wife. I couldn’t believe that people actually turned over their wives to be used by him. After all, what was in it for the man? Even if you wanted to see your wife banged by another guy, he wasn’t even offering the chance to see it. He would just take her, use her as he pleased, and leave the husband high and dry. It didn’t sound very appealing to me.

  What I refused to admit to myself was that I was afraid that if I gave him our address, it could actually happen, and that my wife might decide that I wasn’t a good enough lover. I had to admit that the biker was much more well-endowed than I was. And it would be hard, after so many years of marriage, to compete with the thrill of a new lover, especially one so hung and muscular. I could easily imagine my horny little wife going for a big stud like the bull.

  Our sex life was now better than it had been in years, and we constantly pushed the envelope on our role playing. One of Kay’s favorite was to be restrained with cuffs, naked, gagged and blindfolded. I would open the front door and slam it, as though letting someone in, then take her with my dick, fingers and her dildos, so she could imagine being gang-banged by strangers. Even if she saw them on the street, she wouldn’t know them.

  She loved being paraded in public without a bra, wearing very short skirts. She started going out without panties, allowing strangers to see up her skirt. The more she displayed, the hotter she was when we got home.

  One night I took her to an adult book store that had a small theater in it, where people could watch porn movies. Neither of us wore anything but an overcoat and a pair of shoes. As the action on the screen made us more and more aroused, we stroked and caressed each other. The hotter we got, the more we opened up our coats, exposing ourselves to anyone who looked. Someone sat on the other side of Kay, and she allowed him to touch her. He kneaded her titty eagerly, pulling her nipple.