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Role Playing and BBC

The disco lights at the Vegas Night Club throbbed like a heartbeat, syncing with the deep bass rumbling through the floor and into my bones. The air hung heavy with the musk of aroused bodies, sharp perfumes clashing with cologne, and the sticky sweetness of spilled cocktails. I shifted against the bar, my black shirt clinging slightly to my chest from the humid heat, my slacks tightening around my thighs as I scanned the writhing crowd. Laughter pierced the thumping music, flashes of skin and sequins catching the strobe lights, but my focus sharpened on the promise of the night ahead. I wasn't here to blend in—I was here to hunt, to tease, to fuck.

It was Liz's idea, my insatiable wife, who had planted the seed that morning before we jetted to Vegas. She'd rolled over in bed, her naked body pressing against mine, her full tits brushing my arm as she whispered in that sultry voice still rough from last night's moans. “Babe, it’s been a while since we’ve played with anyone,”she'd said, her hand sliding down my stomach to grip my morning wood, stroking it slowly until pre-cum beaded at the tip. “We need to crank it up. Let's hit the club tonight, dance like we're single, tease some hot strangers—maybe a guy with a thick cock, a woman with a wet pussy begging to be licked, or a couple ready to gang up on us—and see if they bite. Role-play it out, pretend we're strangers picking each other up, and let the night fuck us wherever it wants.”

Her words had my cock throbbing in her fist, visions flooding my mind of her on her knees, sucking off some random stud while I pounded her from behind, or her tongue buried in a stranger's cunt as I watched, stroking myself hard. We'd been deep in the Lifestyle for years—swinging, threesomes, orgies where she'd take multiple loads in her tight holes—but it had been months since we invited fresh meat into our bed. Sure, we could text our usual playmates for a quick fuck session, but the real rush came from the hunt: role-playing as predators, luring some unsuspecting hottie or stud into our web for raw, uninhibited debauchery. No scripts, just pure, sweaty instinct driving us to suck, fuck, and cum until we collapsed.

Liz was a walking wet dream, my 5'1 firecracker weighing 115 pounds of pure temptation, her 36C tits straining against any top she wore, her 24-inch waist flaring into 35-inch hips that swayed like a siren's call. With that Salma Hayek face—dark eyes smoldering, full lips made for wrapping around a shaft—she turned heads and hardened cocks wherever she went, men and women alike dropping their jaws at the sight of her ass cheeks peeking from a short skirt or her nipples poking through silk.

And now, I was scanning the crowd for her, letting my eyes linger as I searched. I had slipped in earlier, blending in as just another face, leaving it entirely up to her—would she play the devoted wife, waiting for her husband, or surrender to the thrill of a stranger stepping closer? I had no idea what she would be wearing, and that delicious uncertainty made my pulse quicken, each moment heavy with anticipation.

I caught a glimpse of her before anyone else knew to look, as she entered the club. The deep red dress caught the light first—slick, wet-looking, almost liquid—then the way it was shaped around her body made the room hesitate. It was sculpted tight across her tits, pulled clean and controlled through her waist, then curved with precision over her hips, clinging like it had been tailored directly to her frame. There was no excess fabric, no place for the eye to rest—it followed every line whether it meant to or not.

As she walked, the material stretched subtly over her thighs, glossy under the club lights, holding her shape with a kind of deliberate restraint. The black six-inch heels lifted her posture, sharpened her silhouette, made each step slow and measured. I could see people noticing in stages—first a pause, then a glance, then full attention. Conversations dropped off around her like switches being flipped.

I didn’t need to look at the crowd to feel the shift. I felt it in the way the space opened as she moved forward, in the way eyes stayed locked on her even when they pretended not to. She never searched for me. She didn’t have to. That dress announced her long before she reached my side.

She sauntered over to the bar, her wide hips rolling seductively with each deliberate step, the tight fabric of her dress hugging the curve of her ass like a second skin. Guys parted like the Red Sea as she approached, their eyes glued to the sway of her body, some tripping over their feet just to steal a better view of her deep cleavage spilling out from her low-cut dress. The bartender zeroed in on her immediately, sliding up close and leaning over the counter, his gaze dropping shamelessly to her full tits straining against the thin material, and asking what he could get for her. She flashed him a teasing smile, bantering back with a flirtatious lilt as she arched her back just enough to push her breasts forward, letting him ogle the hard peaks of her nipples poking through. He poured her drink with a wink, sliding it across the bar, but before she could reach for her card, a tall white guy in a fitted shirt stepped up, his eyes raking over her body like he wanted to devour her right there. It appeared he offered to pay, and pulling out cash while his buddy flanked her other side, both of them closing in tight, sandwiching her between their broad frames. She didn't pull away—instead, she sipped her drink slowly, her tongue flicking out to trace the rim of the glass, standing there letting their heated stares roam from her flushed cheeks down to the inviting pussy between her thighs. They were both not good looking, and I could tell from the way she shifted her weight, her body language cool and appraising, that neither one was quite man enough to scratch her itch.

Then, cutting through the crowd, a third man approached—tall, black, and built like a linebacker, his broad shoulders straining against a crisp button-down shirt that did nothing to hide the ripped muscles underneath. His dark skin gleamed under the bar lights, and as he locked eyes with my wife, I saw her posture shift instantly, her body leaning in just a fraction, thighs pressing together as a subtle flush crept up her neck. Yeah, this guy had her hooked; I could practically feel the heat radiating from her as she sized him up, her gaze dipping to the thick bulge outlined in his fitted pants, imagining how that massive cock would stretch her wide. He was our mark for the night, no doubt about it—the one who'd end up buried balls-deep in her tonight, making her scream while I watched.

He slid up smoothly, his presence commanding the space as he nodded to the two guys flanking her, then turned that confident smile on my wife, extending a large hand that engulfed hers in a firm grip, his thumb brushing the inside of her wrist in a way that made her lips part slightly. The other two straightened up, trying to hold their ground, but it was clear they were outclassed as he leaned in closer. She introduced herself with a husky laugh, her free hand trailing lightly down her side, drawing his eyes to the way her dress rode up her thighs, while the guys muttered their hellos, already fading into the background.

Marcus, who later I found out his name, didn't waste a second after that introduction, his dark eyes never leaving my wife's as he signaled the bartender with a casual wave of his massive hand, asking for a drink for both of them. I could see her bitting her lower lip, her chest rising and falling a bit faster, and ordered another round—something, while eyeing the outline of his thick cock pressing against his pants. He paid without a word, sliding the glasses over to her and the two other guys, but it was clear they were just props now, their egos deflating as Marcus's presence dominated. She sipped hers slowly, her tongue darting out to lick a drop from the rim, her gaze locked on his, while he mirrored her, his full lips curving into a smirk that promised he'd have her moaning his name soon.

The music pulsed harder, the bass thumping through the club like a heartbeat, and before long, Marcus extended his hand again, this time pulling her close with a firm tug at her waist, and seemed to say, “Dance with me,” but not asking but telling, and she went willingly, her body melting against his as they moved to the crowded floor. I hung back at the bar, nursing my drink, my cock twitching in my pants as I watched them grind together under the flashing lights. His huge hands roamed her curves shamelessly—one sliding down to grip her ass, squeezing the firm flesh through her tight dress, pulling her hips flush against his so she could feel the hard length of his dick rubbing against her pussy. She arched into him, her tits pressing against his chest, nipples poking through her dress like they were begging for his mouth.

They moved like they were fucking right there on the dance floor—her back to his front, his fingers digging into her hips as he thrust against her ass, the dress riding up to expose the bottom curve of her cheeks. She turned her head, and their lips crashed together in a hungry kiss, tongues tangling visibly, her hands fisting in his shirt as she sucked on his lower lip. I could see her grinding back, her thighs parting slightly to let his bulge nestle right against her wet slit, probably soaking through her panties already. The other two guys watched from the sidelines, forgotten, their faces twisted in jealousy as my wife lost herself in Marcus's rhythm, her body undulating seductively, every sway screaming how badly she wanted him to bend her over and pound her.

It wasn't long before he steered her off the floor, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist, leading her toward the shadowy back of the club where plush couches lined the walls, half-hidden from the main crowd. They dropped onto one, her sliding onto his lap without hesitation, straddling his thick thighs as his hands immediately went to work. One palm cupped her breast, thumb circling her hard nipple through the thin fabric, pinching it until she gasped into his mouth. The other hand trailed up her smooth leg, pushing her dress higher, fingers tracing the edge of her lace panties before dipping underneath.

strained to catch a glimpse from my spot across the bar, my pulse racing as I slammed back the last of my drink. Heart hammering in my chest, I pushed through the crowd and approached them, the air thick with the scent of sweat and spilled liquor.

“There you are—and I see you’ve been keeping busy,” I said, my voice low and edged with heat. My wife slid off Marcus’s lap in a hurry, her thighs slick and flushed from grinding against him. Marcus’s face twisted in shock, his eyes wide as he yanked his hands away from her hips.

“This is my husband—the one I’ve been waiting for,” she purred, her lips swollen from whatever teasing she’d been doing.

“Hi, I’m Marcus,” he stammered, his voice cracking with nerves, his pants tented from the friction she’d already worked up.

She stood and sauntered over to me, pressing her body against mine for a deep, hungry kiss. Her short dress rode up high, baring the curve of her bare ass cheeks, still marked with faint red imprints from his grip. No panties—just smooth, wet skin begging to be touched.

Marcus scrambled to his feet, adjusting his crotch awkwardly, but I cut him off quick. “Thanks for watching out for her. She’s a real handful—why don’t you join us for another round?”

He nodded eagerly, even insisting on grabbing the drinks and covering the tab, his eyes flicking back to her exposed skin as he headed to the bar.

The second he was out of earshot, I pulled my wife close, my hand sliding under her dress to cup her soaked pussy. She was dripping already, her folds swollen and hot. “He’s the one, isn’t he? If he bites, we’re making this happen.” Tipsy and bold, she grinned up at me, her breath whiskey-sweet. “Fuck yes. His cock’s massive—I felt it throbbing against my thigh through his pants, and that was soft. He hasn’t even gotten fully hard for me yet, but I bet he can pound me for hours without blowing his load.” “So we’re doing this,” I growled, my own dick stiffening at the thought of watching him stretch her out.

Marcus returned with fresh drinks, and we settled into easy chatter, the alcohol loosening us all up. My wife wedged herself between us on the booth seat, her hands roaming—one tracing slow circles up my thigh toward my bulge, the other squeezing Marcus’s inner leg, inching dangerously close to the thick outline of his cock straining against the fabric.

A few more rounds in, and she was squirming, her nipples hard peaks poking through her dress, her cheeks flushed with need. She leaned into Marcus, her voice husky. “Marcus, you want to help my husband fuck me tonight? Stretch this tight pussy with that big dick of yours while he takes my ass?”

He froze, rubbing his chin, eyes darting between us in stunned disbelief. “You’re... you’re serious about this?”

I leaned in, my hand now openly groping her breast through the thin material. “Dead serious. What do you say—want to bury that cock in her and make her scream?”

No pause, just a hungry grin splitting his face. “Hell yes! Where?”

“In our room—right here at the hotel,” I said, already tasting the salt of her skin on my lips. We drained our glasses in a rush, the tension electric as we stood. My wife led the way out of the club, her hips swaying, ass peeking with every step. She guided us straight to the hotel elevator, her hand brushing both our crotches teasingly as the doors slid shut, the air humming with the promise of what was coming next.

The elevator doors sealed us in with a soft ding, the confined space amplifying every breath, every rustle of fabric. My wife pressed her back against the mirrored wall, her dress hiked up to her waist, exposing her shaved pussy lips glistening with arousal and the firm curves of her bare ass cheeks. She grabbed Marcus's hand, guiding it straight to her soaked folds, his fingers sliding along her slick slit, parting her lips to rub her swollen clit in firm circles. I stepped in close from her other side, my palm cupping her ass, squeezing the soft flesh hard enough to leave faint marks, my thumb tracing the crease where her cheeks met her thighs. She moaned low, arching into both of us, her body trembling as Marcus's fingers dipped deeper, two thick digits plunging into her clenching pussy, pumping slowly while his other hand groped her breast through the dress, twisting her hard nipple between his fingers. My free hand joined in, sliding up her thigh to join Marcus's at her pussy, our fingers brushing as we both teased her entrance, feeling her juices coat our skin. She reached back, one hand gripping my bulge through my pants, squeezing my stiff cock firmly, while her other palm pressed against Marcus's tented crotch, rubbing the rigid length straining against the fabric.

The elevator hummed upward, the seconds blurring in a frenzy of groping—her walls fluttering around our probing fingers, her ass grinding back into my grip, breaths ragged and hot against our necks. Just as the car jolted to a stop, she bucked her hips one last time, a whimper escaping her lips before the doors parted, leaving us all flushed and aching for more

The elevator doors slid open to the dimly lit hallway, and my wife stepped out first, her dress still bunched at her waist, leaving her bare ass cheeks jiggling with each confident stride, the red imprints from our grips blooming on her pale skin. She swayed her hips deliberately, glancing back over her shoulder with a wicked grin, her exposed pussy lips peeking between her thighs as she walked ahead, savoring the cool air brushing her slick folds and the way her full breasts bounced freely under the thin fabric. Marcus and I followed close behind, our eyes locked on the hypnotic roll of her curves, her hands trailing down her sides to cup and squeeze her own ass, spreading the cheeks slightly to tease us with the tight pucker of her asshole before letting them clap back together. She paused at our room door, arching her back to push her rear out invitingly, her fingers dipping briefly between her legs to stroke her dripping slit, moaning softly as she unlocked the door with her free hand, pulling it open to reveal the king-sized bed waiting inside.

She slipped into the room first, the door clicking shut behind her with a sense of anticipation that hung thick in the air. Her dress clung to her curves, slightly rumpled from the elevator's frenzy, the hem riding high enough to tease glimpses of her thighs. Without breaking stride, she headed straight for the bathroom, the soft glow from the vanity light spilling out as she pushed the door ajar. The faucet ran briefly, water splashing as she freshened up—perhaps a quick rinse of her flushed face, and a splash of perfume and a touch-up to her make up .

A few minutes later, she sauntered out of the bathroom wrapped in one of my new favorite lingerie outfits, freshly bought from Honey Birdette. The rose-pink sheer corset bodysuit clung to her like a second skin, the nude mesh so translucent it hid nothing, intricate floral embroidery teasing along the swell of her full tits, the structured cups lifting them high while her hard nipples poked visibly through the thin fabric, stiff and begging for attention. It cinched her waist tight, flaring out over her sculpted hips, the daring thong cut at the back vanishing between her firm ass cheeks, exposing the smooth curves with every sway. Down front, the sheer panel revealed her neatly trimmed pussy landing strip, dark and inviting against her skin, the material so sheer you could make out the soft lips beneath. Garter straps dangled from the hips, snapping into lace-topped thigh-high stockings that gripped her toned legs, making each slow, confident step a hypnotic reveal. Her hair fell in tousled waves, framing eyes that sparkled with raw mischief as she locked her gaze on me, owning the room with her seductive poise.

Marcus and I lingered by the bed, our pulses racing from the buildup. I moved to the sound system, fingers tapping the remote to cue up a slow, sultry music—deep bass vibrating through the floor, a sensual melody that invited movement. The rhythm and the drinks took hold of me immediately; and I began peeling off my shirt and pants and boxers exposing my hard cock. I was proud of my cock, at 6.7 inches length and 5.7 inches girth, my wife never being able to deep throw it.

She lingered in the bathroom doorway, her eyes devouring the sight of me stripping down bare, a wicked smile stretching from ear to ear as she caught Marcus still fully clothed, his restraint cracking under her gaze. With a teasing glance his way, she glided into the center of the room, her body igniting the air as she started to dance—hips rolling in slow, hypnotic circles that made the sheer rose-pink bodysuit shift against her skin, the thin mesh pulling taut over her curves. Her hands slid up her sides, tracing the embroidered edges before cupping her full tits firmly through the fabric, fingers digging in to pinch her stiff nipples, twisting them just enough to draw a soft gasp from her lips as she rubbed the hardened peaks in deliberate circles, making them strain even more visibly against the translucent material.

Marcus's control shattered in that instant; he yanked off his shirt in one fluid motion, his broad chest and rippling abs flexing under the dim light as he stepped forward to join her rhythm. His pants hit the floor next, followed by his underwear, unleashing his massive cock—heavy and semi-hard, thick veins bulging along its length as it swung free, pulsing with raw need and hanging down his right thigh like a promise of destruction. At 8.5 inches long when fully rigid and a brutal 6.6 inches in girth, it dwarfed anything we'd encountered, the sheer thickness making my wife's forearm from wrist to elbow—measuring just 8.5 inches around—look slender by comparison, her eyes widening with hungry awe as she drank in the sight of that monster twitching toward full erection. Until this night I think the biggest cock she had ever taken was 7.1 inches length and 5.9 inches girth, from a young college student, and that left a gaping void in her pussy for days.

My wife didn't waste a second, her gaze locked on that thickening beast as she sauntered over to Marcus, her hips swaying with predatory grace. She grabbed his hips and yanked him into the middle of the room, smashing her full, heaving tits against his solid chest, the sheer fabric of her rose-pink bodysuit doing nothing to hide how her stiff nipples scr*ped against his skin. At just 5'1" to his towering 6'2", her face pressed right into the heat of his pecs, and she dove in without hesitation—lips parting to kiss and suck at his dark, muscled chest, tongue flicking out to trace the ridges of his abs while her breath came hot and ragged.

Her tiny hand shot down, fingers straining to encircle the full girth of his cock now rock-hard and throbbing at its full 8.5 inches long and 6.6 inches thick, the veiny shaft so massive it made her grip look comically small, barely able to meet around the base. She started pumping him with slow, deliberate strokes, matching the pulsing rhythm of the low bass thumping through the room, her palm gliding up and down the slicking length as precum beaded at the slit, smearing under her thumb with each twist.

Marcus growled low in his throat, his huge hands clamping onto her firm ass cheeks immediately, kneading the exposed flesh where the thong cut rode high, fingers digging into the smooth ass cheeks and spreading them wide to feel the heat radiating from her crack. He hauled her tighter against him, one hand sliding up to grope her tits roughly through the thin mesh, palm grinding over the structured cups as he pinched and rolled her rock-hard nipples between his fingers, making her moan vibrate against his chest. His mouth descended next, lips latching onto the swell of one breast, sucking hard through the fabric until the material darkened with his spit, teeth grazing the peak before he switched to the other, tonguing the sheer barrier like he was starving for the taste beneath.

The teasing wasn't enough for him—he hooked his fingers into the corset's top edge and ripped it down in a swift yank, the snaps giving way as her bra cups fell away, freeing her heavy tits to bounce out, tan skin flushed and nipples jutting out swollen and begging. Marcus seized them both in his massive paws, grabbing hard enough to leave red marks, squeezing the soft flesh until it bulged between his fingers, thumbs flicking the tips relentlessly while she arched into his hold, gasping at the rough possession.

Finally, his hand plunged lower, shoving the bodysuit's front panel aside and yanking the thong bottom down her thighs in one brutal tug, the lace snagging on her garters before pooling at her ankles. Her neatly trimmed landing strip came into full view, pussy lips already slick and puffy with arousal, and he wasted no time—two thick fingers thrusting straight into her dripping cunt, stretching her tight walls as he finger-fucked her deep and fast, curling to hit that spot inside that made her knees buckle. His thumb mashed against her swollen clit, rubbing circles while her juices coated his hand, the wet squelching sounds mixing with the music as she bucked against his palm, chasing the building pressure.

Overwhelmed and desperate, my wife sank to her knees before Marcus, her sheer stockings whispering against the bedroom floor as she positioned herself eye-level with his colossal black cock. She lifted her slender forearm beside it for comparison—her 8.5-inch span from wrist to elbow looking utterly puny next to the veiny monster throbbing in front of her. The girth alone dwarfed her arm's width, veins bulging like ropes under the taut skin. She let out a throaty laugh of pure awe, her eyes wide with hunger, before parting her full lips and wrapping them around the fat, leaking tip. She sucked greedily, her tongue swirling over the slit to lap up the salty precum oozing from him, her cheeks hollowing as she bobbed shallowly at first, taking in just the head. Saliva dripped from her mouth, coating his shaft as she pulled back, dragging her tongue flat along the underside from his heavy balls to the swollen head, tracing every bulging vein with sloppy, eager licks. Her free hand cupped his wrinkled black balls, rolling and squeezing the tight sac gently, feeling them draw up and tighten under her touch as she worshipped the full length. It was fucking glorious watching her struggle to fit that massive cock in her mouth—barely managing about 35 percent of it—her lips stretching wide, both hands pumping the base in firm, twisting strokes while she slurped and moaned around the tip.

She glanced over at me with a wicked gleam in her eyes, beckoning me closer. 'Come here, baby,' she purred, grabbing my throbbing cock by the base and pulling me in. Now with one hand wrapped around each of our shafts, she worked us like a professional porn star—her fingers slick with spit and precum, stroking mine with long, deliberate pulls from root to tip, while her other hand twisted and pumped Marcus's girth in rhythmic squeezes. The sensation shot straight through me, her grip tight and expert, thumb rubbing over my slit to smear the leaking fluid. Then she leaned in and took my cock deep into her hot, wet mouth, her tongue pressing flat against the underside as she sucked hard, hollowing her cheeks while her hand kept jerking Marcus off with furious speed. He groaned loudly, his hips bucking. 'I can't believe this shit! I can't believe this shit!' he repeated, voice thick with disbelief and lust.

Without warning, my wife switched back to him, engulfing as much of his cock as she could in one swift motion—lips sliding down the shaft, throat relaxing to take more. That pushed him over the edge. Marcus's balls tightened in her hand, and he erupted with a guttural roar, thick ropes of white cum shooting from his tip. She pulled back just in time to direct the load over her heaving tits, the hot, sticky semen splattering across her nipples and dripping down her cleavage in heavy streams. It was a massive amount, creamy and viscous, coating her skin as she milked every last drop with her fist. I was honestly a little disappointed—he hadn't lasted long—but the sight of my wife's tits glazed in his cum had my cock twitching harder. While he caught his breath, I guided her to the bed, spreading her legs wide to expose her dripping pussy. Her folds were swollen and slick, juices glistening on her inner thighs. I dove in without hesitation, burying my face between her legs and licking up her tangy arousal. My tongue flicked over her clit in rapid circles, then plunged into her tight hole, lapping at the creamy wetness as she moaned and ground against my mouth. Her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me deeper while her hips bucked, smearing her essence across my lips and chin.

Just give me a couple minutes, and I'll be back in the game,' Marcus panted, his hand wrapped around his semi-hard cock as he stroked it lazily while heading to the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving my wife and me alone in the dimly lit bedroom, the thumping bass of the music vibrating through the walls.

By the time he returned, his massive dick already swelling back to full thickness, veins bulging along its length, I had positioned my wife on her back in missionary. Her legs were hooked over my shoulders, knees bent toward her chest, exposing her slick, swollen pussy lips that parted invitingly, glistening with her arousal and the remnants of our earlier play. I gripped my hard cock at the base and aligned the swollen head with her entrance, then slammed forward in one powerful thrust, burying every inch until my balls pressed against her ass. Her inner walls clamped down around my shaft like a tight, wet fist, sucking me in deeper as she gasped sharply.

The obscene squelch of her soaked pussy filled the room, mingling with the rhythmic pulse of the music. I pulled back slowly, feeling her ridges drag along my length, until only the tip remained inside, then drove forward again, bottoming out against her cervix with a wet smack. My balls slapped rhythmically against her ass cheeks with each deep, steady plunge, her juices coating my shaft and dripping down to soak the sheets. Marcus stood at the foot of the bed, his fist pumping his thickening cock, the foreskin sliding back to reveal the purple head leaking precum. His dark eyes fixated on the spot where my cock disappeared into her stretched hole. 'Fuck that tight pussy! Pound her hard!' he bellowed, his voice cutting through the haze of lust.

His encouragement lit a fire in my gut. My hips snapped forward with brutal force, turning the rhythm into a relentless hammering. Her pussy milked my cock greedily, the slick heat contracting in waves as I stretched her wider with every thrust. She screamed in raw ecstasy, her body arching off the bed, tits bouncing wildly, nipples peaked into hard points. Her walls fluttered violently around me as her orgasm hit, squeezing my shaft in pulsing grips that nearly pulled me over the edge. 'Yes, fill me up! Pump your hot cum into my slutty cunt!' she cried, her voice hoarse and desperate.

That filthy plea shattered my control. I buried myself balls-deep one final time, my cock throbbing as I unleashed thick ropes of cum straight into her depths. The hot spurts flooded her pussy, mixing with her creamy fluids and bubbling out around my pistoning shaft. I kept thrusting through the bliss, grinding against her clit until her convulsions milked every last drop from me, leaving her hole overflowing with our combined mess.

I pulled out with a wet pop, watching a thick glob of cum ooze from her puffy lips, her pussy twitching and gaping slightly from the abuse. Marcus's giant rod was rock-hard again, the XL condom stretched taut over its girth as he rolled it down with practiced ease. My wife bit her lip, her eyes hungry for that bareback stretch, but we held back—first time with him, no need to rush the risks. As I stepped aside, Marcus climbed onto the bed between her wide-spread legs, his muscular frame hovering over her. He leaned down to capture her mouth in a deep, tongue-lashing kiss, his hands roaming to squeeze her full tits, thumbs flicking her stiff nipples until she moaned into his lips.

His cock bobbed inches from her dripping entrance, the condom-sheathed head brushing her inner thighs. I stood behind him, stroking my spent dick back to life, my view perfect for watching her pussy lips quiver in anticipation. She couldn't wait any longer—her hand shot down, wrapping around his thick base, giving it a few firm pumps that made him groan. With a needy whimper, she guided the bulbous head to her folds, parting them as she pressed it against her cum-slicked opening. A high-pitched squeal escaped her lips—the same one she made when something huge first breached her—as the tip popped inside, her entrance stretching taut around its width.

Inch by agonizing inch, Marcus eased forward, impaling her slowly. Her body writhed beneath him in ecstasy, hips bucking up to take more, her hard nipples scraping his chest as her hands pressed against his pecs, trying to control the depth. 'Fuck, it's big, honey! So fucking big!' she gasped repeatedly, her voice trembling with the strain. Her pussy walls yielded reluctantly, the lips blooming open wider with each advance until finally, his heavy balls rested against her ass, fully sheathed in her clenching heat.

Once buried to the hilt, her tension melted away, body going limp in surrender. Marcus started with shallow pumps, withdrawing a quarter of his length before sliding back in, the motion pushing out the last of my cum in creamy rivulets that trailed down her crack. I jerked my cock furiously at the sight, but his pace quickened, hips pistoning faster. Now he pulled out 80 to 90 percent, his slick shaft emerging coated in her juices and my seed, before slamming back in with a lewd slap. The room echoed with their primal sounds—her piercing screams, his guttural grunts—as he reshaped her insides.

Her pussy stretched impossibly around his girth, the sensation of being split open sending her into convulsions. She shattered into her second orgasm, thighs quaking, walls spasming wildly along his invading cock, trying to hold him deep as waves of pleasure ripped through her. Marcus didn't falter, powering through her climax with unyielding strokes, his balls tightening as he chased his own release. As she came down, panting and flushed, I leaned in. 'Let's spit roast this whore,' I growled to Marcus.

'What’s that?' he asked, chest heaving as he caught his breath, still buried inside her. 'It’s when you fuck her from behind while she sucks my cock clean.'

No words needed—my wife nodded eagerly, and we shifted positions seamlessly. She rolled onto all fours, ass high and presented, her pussy lips swollen and parted from the pounding, a hint of gape already forming. Marcus gripped her hips firmly, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, and aligned his cock before driving back in with a single, forceful thrust. She yelped around my shaft as I fed it into her waiting mouth, her lips stretching to accommodate my thickness, tongue swirling over the cum-smeared head.

We found our rhythm quickly—Marcus hammering her from behind, his hips colliding with her ass in echoing smacks, while I fucked her face, my cock sliding down her throat with gagging slurps. He reached around to slap her jiggling cheeks, leaving red handprints, and grabbed fistfuls of her swinging tits, pinching the nipples hard enough to make her moan vibrations around me. The air thickened with the scent of sex, her muffled cries and our grunts syncing to the music's beat.

Tension built fast. Marcus's thrusts grew erratic, his grip bruising. 'I'm gonna cum! Fuck, I'm gonna cum!' he roared. That triggered us all—my balls drew up as I erupted down her throat, hot jets that she swallowed greedily, her throat working around me. Marcus buried himself to the root in her pussy, groaning as his cock pulsed, filling the condom with thick, ropey loads. She shuddered between us, her third orgasm crashing over her, pussy clenching visibly around his base, milking him dry.

We collapsed in a tangled heap on the bed, bodies slick with sweat, breaths ragged. Marcus peeled off the condom carefully, revealing the bulging reservoir heavy with his creamy output. My wife's pussy, now thoroughly wrecked, lay exposed between her splayed thighs—a big, gaping hole, the pink inner walls visible and fluttering, stretched wide from his massive intrusion. Cum from earlier leaked steadily from the yawning entrance, her lips puffy and red, unable to close fully, the obscene void pulsing with aftershocks as she sighed in exhausted bliss.

We lay there in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, the room heavy with the musky tang of sweat and spent cum, our bodies entangled in a lazy sprawl. Marcus's chest rose and fell in deep, satisfied breaths, his arm dr*ped over my wife's waist, while she nestled between us, her skin flushed and dewy. I propped myself on an elbow, tracing lazy circles on her thigh, watching as the conversation flowed easily now that the raw edge of lust had softened into something more intimate. We'd swapped stories about our lives—Marcus sharing how he ended up in the city for work, us recounting wilder nights from our marriage—laughter punctuating the afterglow, but the heat never fully dissipated. I noticed it first: my wife's fingers idly stroking Marcus's softening cock, the thick shaft still slick from the condom's remnants and her own arousal. It twitched under her touch, glistening with a sheen of his escaped seed and her creamy juices, the veins faintly pulsing as blood began to stir again. Her eyes, half-lidded with lingering hunger, flicked down to it possessively, her thumb smearing the sticky fluid along the underside, coaxing it back to life with gentle squeezes.

She wasn't done; her body hummed with that insatiable need, her wrecked pussy still leaking a slow trickle of mixed cum onto the sheets, the gaping slit between her thighs clenching faintly as if begging for more.

“Hey,' she murmured, her voice husky and teasing as she lifted her gaze to Marcus, her hand never stopping its slow pump along his length. 'You didn't want to fuck me without a condom, did you?' She bit her lip, a sly smile playing on her mouth. 'Don't worry—I'm tied, and we have no STDs. Clean as can be.' Marcus chuckled low, his hips shifting slightly into her grip, the cock in her hand thickening just a bit more under the attention. 'Of course I did,' he admitted, his voice rough from exertion, eyes darkening as he glanced at me for confirmation. 'That pussy felt incredible wrapped around me, even through the latex. But I didn't know if you guys were okay with that. Didn't want to overstep.'

I nodded, my own dick stirring at the thought, already half-hard again from watching her play with him. 'We're good with it,' I said, reaching over to cup one of her big tits, rolling the nipple between my fingers until it pebbled tight. 'She's on the safe side, and if you're clean, go for it. Bare feels better anyway—nothing like that raw heat.'

The banter stretched on, light and charged, her hand working him firmer now, the slick sounds of skin on skin filling the pauses. She teased him about his size, how it had ruined her for anything less, and he fired back with compliments on how greedily her cunt had swallowed him whole. Laughter mixed with moans as his cock swelled fully in her palm, standing rigid and bare, the head flushed purple and weeping a bead of fresh precum that she swiped away with her thumb, bringing it to her lips for a taste.

Finally, she leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear, free hand trailing down to fondle his heavy balls, rolling them gently. 'Do you have one more in you before you leave?' she whispered, her voice dripping with invitation, eyes locked on his as she stroked him base to tip, the shaft throbbing eagerly in response. Marcus groaned, his hand sliding between her legs to probe her soaked folds, fingers dipping into the loose, cum-slick entrance that still hadn't recovered its shape. 'Fuck yeah,' he rasped, curling two digits inside her, feeling the velvety walls flutter around the intrusion. 'This sloppy hole's too tempting to pass up. Gonna fill it proper this time—no barriers.'

She arched into his touch with a whimper, spreading her legs wider, the explicit invitation clear as her pussy lips parted further, exposing the pink, ravaged interior glistening with our combined loads. I watched, stroking myself slowly, the anticipation building as Marcus positioned himself above her, his bare cock nudging against her entrance, ready to plunge in raw and claim her completely.

Marcus wasted no time, his massive black cock—thick as my wrist and veined like twisted ropes—throbbing with raw need as he lined it up against my wife's dripping pussy. No condom this time, just skin on skin, the bulbous head nudging her swollen lips apart before he rammed forward in one brutal thrust. She screamed, her back arching off the bed as he buried every inch inside her, stretching her wrecked hole to its limits. The kid gloves were off; he fucked her like a man possessed, hips snapping with punishing force, his heavy balls slapping wetly against her ass and clit with each savage plunge. Her pussy lips clung to his dark shaft, dragged outward on every withdrawal, coated in a frothy mix of her arousal and the remnants of our earlier loads, before he slammed back in, reshaping her insides with his girth.

'Fuck yes, take that big black dick!' Marcus growled, his hands pinning her thighs wide, pounding her relentlessly. She clawed at his back, nails raking red trails down his sweat-slicked skin, her tits bouncing wildly with the impacts. 'Oh God, it's destroying me—harder, fuck me harder!' she begged, her voice breaking into moans as her walls spasmed around him, the raw friction sending sparks of ecstasy through her core. I knelt beside them, stroking my cock to the obscene symphony of flesh smacking flesh, her juices squirting out around his pistoning length, soaking his balls and the sheets below.

But Marcus wasn't done escalating. With a grunt, he pulled out abruptly, his cock springing free—glistening and angry, veins pulsing—leaving her pussy gaping obscenely, a pink tunnel fluttering in the cool air. 'Get up, slut,' he demanded, his voice rough and commanding, eyes locked on hers with feral hunger. She scrambled to her feet on shaky legs, her body trembling from the abuse, but her eyes burned with lust as she obeyed. Before she could steady herself, Marcus scooped her up effortlessly, his strong arms wrapping around her—one hand under her ass, fingers digging into the soft cheeks, the other supporting her back. She instinctively hooked one leg around his waist, her arm slung over his broad shoulder for balance, her free hand clutching his neck as he positioned his cock at her entrance.

He thrust upward, impaling her fully in one go, her scream echoing off the hotel walls as gravity drove her down onto his full length. They staggered toward the open window, the night breeze cooling their heated skin, the city lights twinkling below like distant voyeurs. Marcus pressed her back against the frame, her tits heaving with each breath, and started fucking her standing up—brutal, vertical strokes that lifted her off the ground slightly with every upward slam. His balls swung heavy, smacking her ass and the sensitive skin above her clit, while her pussy juices cascaded down his shaft, dripping onto the floor in sticky strings.

From my spot on the bed, I had the perfect view: her legs splayed wide around his hips, that massive black cock demolishing her pussy right in front of me. I watched it disappear and reappear, coated thicker with each thrust, her inner walls pulled taut around the invading girth, the lips stretched thin and red from the relentless assault. She bounced on him like a ragdoll, her head thrown back, mouth open in constant cries—'Yes, fuck my cunt with that huge black dick!'—the words spilling out in her delirium. The open window framed them perfectly, her ass cheeks spread by his grip, exposing the way her hole clenched desperately around him, milking every ridge and vein.

The pace turned frantic, his grunts animalistic as he hammered deeper, the tip battering her cervix with each bottom-out. Her nails dug into his shoulder, body convulsing as her fourth orgasm ripped through her—pussy gushing around his cock, squirting clear fluid that splattered his thighs and the windowsill. 'Cumming—fuck, I'm cumming on your bare cock!' she wailed, thighs quaking. Marcus roared in response, burying himself to the hilt one last time, his balls contracting as he unleashed torrent after torrent of hot, thick cum straight into her depths. I saw it all: his black shaft pulsing visibly, swelling with their combined juices—her cream and his seed mixing into a creamy froth that bubbled out around the base, trickling down to coat his swinging sack before dripping to the floor in heavy globs.

They stayed locked like that for a moment, panting against each other, his cock still twitching inside her as aftershocks made her whimper. Slowly, he lowered her to the floor, pulling out with a wet sound—her pussy a ruined mess, lips puffy and inverted, a steady stream of his potent load pouring from the yawning gap, pooling between her feet. We collapsed back onto the bed in a heap, bodies spent and sticky, the room reeking of raw sex. Conversation flowed easy after that—swapping laughs about the intensity, Marcus admitting how her tightness had nearly broken him, us sharing how we'd always fantasized about this exact scenario. Numbers exchanged with promises of round two sometime, and then Marcus dressed, giving her a deep kiss and a playful slap on the ass before heading out into the night.

My wife turned to me with a wicked grin, her body marked with handprints and bite marks, cum still leaking from her battered pussy. 'Shower?' she purred, sauntering toward the bathroom, hips swaying, the evidence of her ravaging on full display. 'Join me, baby—I need to clean up this mess you helped make.' I followed, cock already hardening at the sight of her ass cheeks jiggling, the faint gape between her thighs.

Under the steaming spray, she dropped to her knees without a word, water cascading over her curves as she gripped my shaft and swallowed it whole. Her mouth was a hot, sucking vacuum—lips sealed tight around the base, tongue lashing the underside while she bobbed furiously, gagging herself on my length. 'Mmm, taste like us,' she mumbled around the mouthful, saliva and water mixing as she deepthroated me, her throat bulging with each thrust I fed her. I tangled my fingers in her wet hair, fucking her face until my balls tightened, but I held back, pulling her up instead.

Turning her to face the wall, I spread her ass cheeks, exposing the tight pink pucker untouched so far tonight. 'Time to claim this hole,' I growled, spitting on it before pressing my cockhead against the resistant ring. She pushed back with a moan, relaxing as I forced inch by inch inside—her ass gripping me like a vice, hotter and tighter than her pussy ever was. I started slow, then ramped up, pounding her backdoor with deep, grinding strokes, the water sluicing over us as her cries echoed in the tiled space. 'Fuck my ass—fill it up!' she demanded, reaching back to spread herself wider. I obliged, slamming home until I exploded, pumping rope after rope of cum deep into her bowels, her body shuddering through one final orgasm from the anal invasion.

We rinsed off in exhausted bliss, drying each other with lingering touches, the night ending with us curled up in bed, her body pressed against mine, utterly satisfied and marked as ours.

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