Chapter 1: The Hidden Watcher
The air in Drayton hung thick and heavy, pressing down in that peculiar way English summers have when the sun decides to overstay it's welcome.
The kind of heat that made even the bees too lazy to buzz, letting their pollen drop lazily onto the overgrown lavender at the bottom of the garden. Through the cracked window, the scent of ripening wheat mingled with the earthy musk of the dried-out grass—it was the smell of stagnation, of something holding its breath before the inevitable storm.
Inside their old stone cottage, Matt began his risky plan with the deliberation of a man about to step over a cliff—and who’d brought his own parachute.
He stood in the centre of their master bedroom, the single bulb of the bedside lamp casting a peach glow over the unmade bed’s rumpled silk. Jen had gone to their en-suite with the express instruction to emerge wearing nothing but the coil of fishnets he’d left on the toilet seat.
He could hear water running, the pipes singing their sour note, the fan struggling against the humidity.
Jen was intrigued, horny for her husband as always, but she hadn’t yet guessed the shape her own pleasure would take tonight.
Matt adjusted the angle of the lamp, willing his hands to stop trembling. The wardrobe’s brass handle gleamed dully in the half-light, a door barely ajar.
Inside, Rich stood naked, peeping through the slight gap
.
His stomach swelled over the curve of his belly. It wasn’t the six-pack of a gym bros, but the soft give of a man who’d spent years hunched over drafting boards, mulling over blueprints instead of lifting them.
Matt had telephoned him at work earlier that week. “Mate,” he’d said, casual like he was asking about the weather, “I might need your help with something… personal. Very personal.”
Rich had only nodded, his quiet eyes showing no trace of shock or worry, just the kind of quiet that told Matt he’d read the subtext and filed it away in the same drawer as a business memo—prominent, but never spoken about aloud.
They’d arranged everything via texts under the guise of “a social thing,” but the truth was far hotter than any dinner invitation ever could be.
Now, hidden in the wardrobe’s gloom, Rich felt the cool mahogany press against his forehead. The heat outside had turned the cottage into a greenhouse, but inside this antique hutch, the air was still and stale, thick with the scent of cedar and old shoe polish. He shifted his weight, the wood groaning faintly beneath him, and reached down to grip himself at the base. He wasn’t hard yet, but anticipation prickled at him like a fine needle—exciting, nervous, thrilling.
His cock lay heavy in his hand, already longer than most men’s by half, the girth of it enough that he had to curve his fingers around the shaft just to keep a hold.
Below his feet, the wardrobe’s flooring creaked softly as he shifted. He could hear Matt now, the soft rub of fabric against fabric, the whisper of silk sliding across skin. It was like standing outside a gilded cathedral and waiting for the bishop to kneel.
Then came the first note of vulnerability—Jen’s voice.
“Matt?” she called from the en-suite, hesitant, amused. “You said I didn’t have to wear anything fancy.
And now I’m standing here in these bloody fishnets,” Jen laughed, her voice rich and warm, like caramel melting over ice cream. “Honestly, if I’d known the dress code, I’d have worn actual stockings with actual suspenders.”
Matt’s throat tightened. The stockings were black lace, the kind that clung like second skin, biting into the soft flesh of her thighs just above the knee before tapering up to disappear beneath the curve of her bottom—where the mesh cupped her flesh in a way that made his mouth water.
“I didn’t say *nothing*,” he replied, his voice rough with restraint. “I said *sexy*.
And you, my love, look like sin itself baking in the August sun.”
Jen stepped into the doorway, her body framed by the flickering glow of the hallway candle. She’d twisted her long brown hair up into a loose bun, tendrils escaping to frame her flushed face. The fishnets hugged every curve—the lush swell of her breasts rising above the lace’s scalloped edge, the dark triangle at the apex teasingly visible beneath it, the thick roundness of her ass clenched tight by the taut fabric, the shadow of her sex glimpsed between her thighs like a secret.
The stockings ended just below her knees, the delicate bands of lace biting into soft flesh. She wore nothing else—not a stitch of underwear, not a scrap of silk—just the sinful lace and the heat that radiated from her.
Matt’s breath hitched.
Jen’s hips swayed slightly as she crossed the threshold, her bare feet silent on the aged oak floorboards. The candlelight painted her skin gold, flickering across the soft hollows of her collarbones, the gentle slope of her belly, the thick inward curve of her waist. She was breathing faster now, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow gasps.
The humidity made her skin glisten, the heat already coaxing the first beads of sweat to trace slow, glittering paths down her collarbones. She could feel the air clinging to her bare skin, the fishnets feeling like a second heartbeat against her thighs.
Matt watched her approach, his pulse hammering in his throat as if it were trying to outrun his thoughts. Her thick thighs pressed together slightly, the lace hugging them like a lover’s grip, and he could see the faintest outline of her folds where the material ended, dark and glistening.
“Jen,” he said softly, his voice rough with want. “Turn around.”
She blinked at him, her lips parting in surprise.
“Turn around?” she echoed, voice light but her brow furrowing just slightly. “Matt, love, if we're doing this—whatever this is—you don’t have to keep me in the dark.”
He swallowed and stepped closer, his shadow stretching long over the floorboards. The candle flickered between them, throwing their silhouettes against the floral wallpaper like a dream half-remembered.
“I’m not keeping you in the dark,” he said, gentle but firm. “I'm building something. Slowly. As he slowly placed a sleep mask over her eyes , the darkness wasn’t cruel or silencing. It was deliberate. It was a curtain pulled across the stage just before the actors step into the light.
“Matt, what—” Jen’s voice stumbled, her fingers rising instinctively toward the satin strip now pressing against her eyelids, but he caught her wrist, held it gently, reassuringly.
“Trust me,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.
She exhaled, her chest rising and falling faster now. The heat was thick in the room, but this new darkness made the air feel even heavier, like it was pressing against her skin from the inside out. She could still see nothing—just the deep black of absence—but every other sense sharpened.
The thick, syrupy scent of lavender candles curled around her nostrils, the heat of Matt’s body radiating against her back like an open oven door. His fingers lingered on her wrist as if memorising the pulse thrumming beneath her skin.
He guided her forward until the fronts of her thighs brushed the edge of the unmade bed. The silk coverlet was still warm from where they’d tossed and turned the night before, and now it felt electric against her bare calves.
“Get on your knees,” Matt said softly.
Jen hesitated. The bed dipped slightly as she lowered herself, the fishnets whispering against the fabric.
Her full breasts swayed slightly as she settled onto her hands and knees, her thighs parting just enough for a cool draft to tease between them. The silk beneath her palms was still warm from their earlier movements, and she could feel the faint indentations where Matt had tossed and turned in restless sleep before this night consumed them both.
Matt stood behind her for a long moment, watching the way her shoulders rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths. The sight of her like this—blindfolded, obedient, trembling with anticipation—made his cock strain against the loose cotton of his boxers.
He could see the way her weight shifted on her hands and knees, how her hips swayed ever so slightly, as if she were already imagining what it would feel like to be taken from behind.
Matt crouched down behind her, his breath hot against the back of her neck. He reached out and ran a single finger along the inside of her thigh, tracing the delicate lace where it bit into her soft flesh. Jen gasped, her body jerking slightly at the unexpected touch.
“Matt—” she whispered, her voice trembling. “What are you—”
He hushed her with a gentle press of his palm against the small of her back, guiding her forward until her elbows bent and her full breasts pressed against the mattress.
"trust me, I'm trying something new ,"
His voice was low, almost apologetic, but his fingers were anything but—trailing higher, skimming the lace that barely concealed her, teasing the damp heat already gathering between her thighs.
Jen gasped, arching her back instinctively as his touch sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core. The fishnets stretched taut over her round ass as she shifted, her thighs trembling.
“Matt, this feels—”
Her words dissolved into a moan as his fingers slipped beneath the lace, brushing against her swollen folds. The heat of the room, the dampness of her arousal, the way her body trembled at his touch—it was all too much, overwhelming in the most delicious way.
Jen arched her back further, her full breasts swaying with the movement, the fishnets clinging to every curve of her body. Her breaths came in short, sharp gasps, her thighs parting wider, inviting him in.
Matt’s fingers explored her with deliberate slowness, circling her clit with a feather-light touch before sliding lower to tease her entrance. The contrast between the cool lace and the scorching heat of her skin made her whimper, her hips bucking slightly in search of more.
“Matt…” she moaned, her voice thick with want, her body trembling under his touch.
He leaned forward and slid his tongue up her folds , tasting her sweetness with slow, deliberate strokes.
Jen gasped, her hands gripping the silk coverlet tightly as pleasure coiled in her belly, sharp and electric.
“Fuck…” she breathed, her thighs trembling as his tongue circled her clit with torturous precision.
Just as her legs began to tremble with the first waves of pleasure, Matt pulled back slightly, his breath hot against her skin.
“Matt, don’t stop—” she begged, her voice breathless.
“I'm not going to!" He murmured against her skin, smiling at the way she whimpered as his breath teased her oversensitive flesh. His fingers gripped her thighs, spreading them wider, and
he pressed his mouth back to her at the same moment.
Jen cried out, her body arching off the bed as his tongue traced slow, wet circles around her clit before flattening to press firmly against it. The lace of the fishnets dug into her thighs, the damp material clinging to her skin as her arousal soaked through it. She could feel his stubble grazing against her inner thighs, the rough contrast to his soft tongue driving her wild.
Matt groaned against her, the sound muffled against her dripping flesh. He loved the way she tasted, the way her hips jerked every time his tongue flicked her clit, the way her thighs trembled as pleasure built inside her.
Jen’s moans filled the room, thick and needy, mixing with the wet sounds of his mouth working her over. He slid two fingers inside her, curling them just right, and her back arched off the bed with a sharp cry.
“Matt—!” Her voice broke, her fingers tangling in the silk coverlet as her body tensed. He could feel her walls fluttering around his fingers, the first waves of her orgasm crashing over her.
He didn’t let up—he kept his mouth pressed to her, his fingers working her through the climax, drawing it out until her thighs shook violently.
Only when her cries softened into whimpers did he finally pull back, his lips glistening with her arousal.
He stood, pressing a tender kiss to the small of her back before repositioning himself at the edge of the bed. The wardrobe door creaked an inch wider behind him—just enough. Rich was watching. Waiting. His cock already rising to the occasion, thick and heavy in the dim light.
Jen pushed up onto her elbows, her chest heaving, the blindfold still in place. The absence of sight made every other sensation sharper—Matt’s warm breath on her skin, the cool silk beneath her fingers, the faint rustle of fabric as Rich shifted in the wardrobe.
“Matt…?” Her voice was thick with aftershocks, hesitant but curious.
“What the fuck was that?”
Matt pressed a kiss to her spine, his stubble scraping lightly against her skin. “just taking my clothes off
, love. making you wait.”
His fingers worked the button of his trousers open, the zipper whispering down slow and deliberate. The cotton of his boxers tented instantly, the thick outline of his cock straining against the fabric.
Jen heard the rustle of fabric, the soft thud of his shoes hitting the floor, the whisper of silk as he stepped out of his trousers.
Matt pulled her back by her waist until he knees were on the edge of the bed, he gives rich the nod , the signal they’d agreed on hours ago: *Now. Go*.
The wardrobe door opens silently.
Rich steps out barefoot, his belly hanging heavy over the thick ridge of his cock which bobs slightly with each step toward the bed. His thighs are thick, his calves soft, but his dick—fuck, his dick is a freak of nature. Nine inches when soft, easily twelve when hard, the girth so immense that veins bulge like ropes down the shaft. The crown is swollen and deep purple, already weeping a thick bead of pre-cum that glistens under the dim lamplight. His balls hang low and heavy, full of seed, swaying slightly as he moves.
He doesn’t speak. Words aren’t needed.
Matt steps back silently, giving Rich the space to take his place.
Jen’s breath catches.
She can *feel* him before she sees him—thick heat radiating off his body, the scent of clean sweat as Rich's hands caress the curve of her ass as he positions himself.
Matt has prepped her well—she’s wet, swollen, her cunt still fluttering from the orgasm he just forced from her.
Rich kneels behind her, his thick thighs bracketing hers. His balls drag lightly against the inside of her thighs.
She whimpers when his cockhead brushes her swollen lips, the weight of him a brand against her skin.
“Fuck!” she gasps, her voice thick with disbelief and need. “Matt,—!”
Rich doesn’t answer.
He doesn’t need to.
He grips Jen’s cheeks and spreads her wide, the fishnets biting into her thighs as he positions himself at her entrance. His cockhead pushes against her already swollen lips, the heat of him making her gasp.
“Matt—” Her voice breaks, trembling with shock and desire. “Oh my God…”
Rich groans, the sound rough and needy as he slides the first few inches inside her.
Jen’s breath comes in sharp gasps, her fingers clawing into the silk bedspread. The sheer size of him stretches her open, the girth of his shaft pressing against her walls in a way that feels both overwhelming and impossibly good.
Jen’s back arches, her throaty moan torn from her as Rich pushes deeper, inch by excruciating inch, stretching her wider than she’s ever been.
“Fuck—!” Jen gasps, her voice raw, her fingers gripping the sheets so tightly her knuckles turn white. “Matt—you feel so big—!” Jen exhales, her pussy clamping down around Rich’s shaft as he bottoms out inside her with a deep, guttural groan. The sound is thick and wet, the noise of flesh meeting flesh, her soaked cunt swallowing every inch of him with a lewd squelch that fills the humid air between them.
Rich grips her hips hard, his thick fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs, bruising her as he pulls back and slams forward again. The bed frame creaks under the force of his thrusts, the headboard banging softly against the floral wallpaper with each deep, punishing stroke.
Jen's tits sway, hanging heavy beneath her, the fishnets cutting into the soft flesh of her inner thighs as Rich buries himself inside her over and over.
Rich tries hard not to let out any moans, but his breath comes out in ragged grunts as his balls slap against Jen's clit with every thrust.
Matt watches from behind the lazy swaying of Jen's hanging tits, the globes of flesh jiggling each time Rich rams himself home, his cock aching as he strokes himself slowly.
"Fuck—" Matt mutters under his breath, his free hand gripping his cock hard, "Look at you, love. Taking that massive dick like a good girl."
Jen's head lolls back, her blindfold still in place, her full lips parted in a constant gasp.
"you've never fucked me like this before ," she moans, her voice thick with pleasure.
Rich responds by gripping her hips even harder, pulling her back onto his cock with every brutal thrust. The sound of wet flesh slapping together fills the room—*squelch-slapslapslap*—each thrust jolting her entire body forward, her tits swaying heavily beneath her.
Matt steps closer, his cock now fully hard, the tip glistening with pre-cum as he strokes himself slowly. He can see Jen's pussy stretched obscenely around Rich's thick shaft, the lips puffy and swollen, his cock sliding in and out with obscene wetness.
Rich grunts, his breath coming in sharp bursts.
Rich is about to cum , his thick balls swinging heavily against Jen’s clit with every brutal thrust.
Matt can see it.
He can see the way Rich’s thighs tremble, the way his cock swells impossibly thicker inside Jen’s stretched cunt.
Matt steps closer, his cock aching, leaking pre-cum as he strokes himself slowly, watching his wife take Rich’s massive cock with wanton abandon.
Rich pulls out and starts to cum as he does he pulls her cheeks apart and jerks off onto her cunt, and puckered hole
with his thick ropes of cum. The first thick rope of cum splatters against her pussy lips, the second against her clit, the third against her tight, virgin hole. It’s hot and thick, dripping down her swollen cunt, pooling onto the fishnets where they cling to her thighs.
Jen gasps, arching her back as the hot cum splatters against her exposed flesh.
"fuck, that's so dirty !" she moans, her body shuddering. Rich's cum is thick and warm, dripping down her pussy lips. Rich smears it over her clit with his fat cockhead, dragging the wetness up to tease her tight hole. Jen gasps as he presses the tip of his cock against her puckered entrance, the pre-cum and her own arousal making it slick enough for him to push in just a little.
"Matt—!" Jen’s voice is raw and needy as Rich pushes the head in slightly, his cockhead stretching her tight hole, his cum and her arousal making it just slick enough for him to breach her.
He pushes in and then pops it out, teasing her with the thick crown, and Jen gasps—
“Fuck—!” she moans breathlessly, her back arching as pleasure and pain twine together.
Rich slides his cock between her cheeks
, the tip slick with her arousal and the thick ropes of his cum—the feel of her ass cheeks pressed together forces his shaft to press against her tight, virgin hole without fully entering.
Matt watches in rapt fascination, his cock throbbing in his grip, his eyes locked on the obscene sight of Rich’s cockhead pressing against the tight, glistening ring of Jen’s puckered entrance.
It’s forbidden, filthy, and so fucking hot it makes his balls draw up tight against his body.
Rich grips the base of his cock, pressing the slick tip harder against Jen’s tight hole.
He circles her hole with the fat crown, smearing her own arousal and his cum over the sensitive flesh until she’s whimpering, her thighs trembling.
“Matt—please—” Jen’s voice is raw, breathless. “It hurts—”
Matt steps closer, his cock aching, warm cum dripping from the tip as he strokes himself slowly. The sight of his wife’s tight rosebud being teased by Rich’s thick cockhead makes his cock pulse in his grip.
Jen pushed back as Rich slides his cock down between her cheeks and pushes into her pussy again, the thick girth stretching her wide with a squelchy wet sound. The fishnets bite into the soft flesh of her inner thighs as she writhes beneath him, her blindfold still in place, her entire body trembling with pleasure.
Rich slams into her with a wet *squelch*, his cock buried balls-deep inside her stretched cunt. Jen gasps, her voice breaking as pleasure and pain twist together.
The thick, heavy girth of Rich’s cock buries itself inside her again, stretching her cunt obscenely wide, the wet sounds of their coupling filling the room in obscene, rhythmic pulses: *squelch… slap… squelch… slap…*
"Fuck Matt! You've never gone twice in a row like this!” Jen gasps, her voice raw with pleasure, her fingers clawing at the silk sheets as she rocks back onto Rich’s massive shaft.
Matt stands just behind him, his own cock throbbing between his legs, watching the obscene sight of his wife taking that massive dick with wanton abandon. The thick vein running down the underside of Rich’s cock glistens with her arousal, the girth of him making her swollen lips stretch obscenely around his shaft every time he pulls back.
“You like that, love?” Matt groans, his voice rough with lust as he strokes himself slowly, precum dripping from the tip of his aching cock.
Matt slowly reaches over and circles her ass hole with his index finger , she pushes back onto it and he slides it in the resistance giving way to the wet heat of her body.
“Shit, baby—you’re so tight,” he mutters, his finger buried knuckle-deep inside her ass while Rich continues to pound her cunt from behind. The twin sensations make Jen keen, her voice rising in a broken, desperate sound.
Rich groans with the deep strain of a man holding himself back. He grips Jen’s wide hips so hard his fingertips leave white imprints on her flesh before flushing pink. The twin sensations of his fingers inside her ass and Rich’s massive cock driving into her cunt make her body shudder, her orgasm building again with terrifying speed.
Matt can't resist anymore and climbs on the bed kneeling Infront of Jen's face , he grips his cock in his hand and gently taps it against her lips, leaving streaks of pre-cum on her full lips.
"Open up, love," Matt murmurs, his voice thick with lust as he drags his cockhead along her lower lip and then slips it inside her mouth. Jen immediately wraps her lips around him, her tongue swirling around the sensitive underside as she hollows her cheeks.
She stops instantly in shock, and lurches forward onto her belly, pushing Rich’s cock back out of her with a wet *pop*.
Her chest heaves, blindfold still in place, but her eyes—her blindfolded eyes—are wide with shock and fury.
“Matt—!” she shouts, voice thick and raw, “What the *fuck*—!”
Rich doesn’t move. He stands there rigid. Jen lifts the mask , her eyes flaring wide with outrage and betrayal.
“You *monster*,” she spits, her voice trembling with fury. “You *husband* let that *stranger* fuck me like that—and now you want to put your *cock* in my mouth?”
But Matt doesn’t recoil. He doesn’t flinch.
He steps closer instead, his cock still rigid in his grip, the thick vein pulsing visibly beneath his skin.
“Because,” he says softly, “you're enjoying it, darling.”
The words hang in the thick, humid air between them, heavy and deliberate. The stench of aroused flesh fills the room—her sweetness, Rich’s musk, the sharp tang of pre-cum and sweat.
Jen’s chest rises and falls sharply, her full breasts heaving beneath the lace of the fishnets, her skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, she pushes herself up onto her knees , her blindfold still clutched in one hand, her other hand gripping the sheets like a lifeline.
Her lips are parted, swollen from Matt’s cock, her eyes wide and wild, her breathing erratic.
She looks like a woman caught between fury and raw, unchecked desire.
“You *know* I’m enjoying it, you wanker,” she snarls, her voice thick with arousal and rage. She can feel the ache of pleasure between her legs—Rich’s cum still slick and leaking from her swollen pussy, her clit throbbing, her walls fluttering with the ghost of what she just took. “But *this*—fucking *this*—”
"let us pleasure you babe" he kisses her cheek lovingly but she turns her head away. “I want to show you something,” Matt says softly, his voice low and rough with lust as he steps closer to Jen, his cock still rigid, the thick vein pulsing visibly beneath his skin.
Jen’s fingers tighten around the fishnets at her thighs, the lace cutting into her skin as she glares up at him through tear-blurred eyes. The blindfold dangles from one hand, useless now, discarded like the illusion of control she once believed she had.
“You *promised* me,” she snaps, her voice trembling but fierce. “You *fucking* promised this would be *about* me. Not you.
This. This is all about *you*. About what you can take. About what you *want*." Matt's voice is rough, strained, barely above a growl as he places his hands on her waist and kisses her neck . His stubble scratches against the delicate skin beneath her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "You were *soaking*. Your cunt was *clenching*. You *begged* for more.
Matt kisses down her chest, as rich moves slowly kneeling behind Jen and caresses her waist and kisses the back of her neck her breath hitched as his lips touched her skin the dual sensations sending a shudder through her body. Rich's hands grip Jen's hips firmly, his thumbs pressing into the soft, warm flesh just above the lace of the fishnets.
Jen gasps, her breath coming out in a sharp exhale as Rich’s lips brush against her skin, his stubble scraping lightly against the sensitive nape of her neck. The contrast between the rough texture of his beard and the softness of his mouth makes her shiver involuntarily.
Matt's hands slide up to cup her heavy breasts, his thumbs brushing over her stiff nipples, Matt leans down and kisses the stiff buds teasing them with his lips , tongue flicking over one then the other sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.
Jen's breath hitches, her body betraying her with a soft whimper despite her anger.
Rich's hands move up her stomach, his palms skimming over her warm skin before finally cupping her breasts from behind. The two men's hands work in tandem—Matt pinching and rolling her nipples while Rich kneads the soft flesh of her breasts, the lace of the fishnets biting into her skin as they mold her flesh between their fingers.
"Fuck," she gasps, her voice thick with frustration and arousal.
"I'm so fucking mad at you two right now."
Matt’s lips curve against her skin in a smirk, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear. He knows she’s a storm of contradictions—fuming yet trembling, furious yet dripping wet.
Rich’s hands slide down the soft curve of her waist, his thick fingers hooking beneath the lace of the fishnets where they bite into her thighs. He pulls slightly, the elastic cutting into her flesh, making her gasp again. The heat between them is suffocating—sweat slick on skin, cum and arousal dripping from her swollen entrance, the thick musk of sex hanging thick in the damp air.
Rich moves to the side as Matt gently pushes her onto her back , the fishnets rolling up her thighs deliciously as her legs part for him.
His cock is heavy and slick with leaking pre-cum, the thick vein bulging down the underside as he strokes himself slowly, watching her with dark, hungry eyes.
Jen glares up at him—her chest heaving, her nipples hard and flushed, her lips swollen from sucking him off moments ago—her face flushed with fury and desire.
“You *wanker*,” she hisses at him. “You *absolute* wanker.”
Matt doesn’t flinch.
He crawls between her thighs. His breath is hot against her inner thigh as he leans in.
He rubs his cock over her soaked slit, his thick slit pressing against her clit, making her hips jerk involuntarily.
She hates that it feels *good*.
She hates that she’s soaking for him.
She hates that her body betrays her at every turn.
“Matt…” Jen’s voice is raw, a mix of fury and need. “Stop it—”
But he doesn’t.
He pushes the head of his cock into her, just an inch—enough to make her gasp.
His pre-cum and Rich’s cum mix together inside her, the thick, hot liquid spilling out around him as he sinks deeper.
He pushes in to the base , buried balls-deep inside her stretched cunt. The girth of his cock presses against her walls in a way that makes her gasp, her hips jerking involuntarily as her body struggles to accommodate his size.
“Fuck—!” Jen gasps, her voice raw with pleasure and defiance. “Matt, *get off*—!”
"I can't feel your pathetic little excuse for a dick, Rich's monster fuckstick
just ploughed me into next week and now you're trying to cram that *magic wand* in after it?"
Her voice is a snarl but her pussy is clenching around the first thick inch he slides in.
Matt groans, his hips stuttering involuntarily at the hot, wet grip of her. The twin sensations—Rich’s cum still seeping from her stretched entrance, the thick ridge of his cockhead pressing against the raw sensitivity of her walls—make him shudder.
“Fuck,” he gasps, his voice breaking as he grips her thighs and yanks her onto his cock with a wet *squelch* that echoes through the humid room.
"get off me, you absolute arsehole!" She snarls and pushes him off her
with both hands pressed against his chest. Her tits bounce with the movement, the fishnets rolling up her thick thighs.
"Rich come here and claim this pussy, it's yours from now on" with conviction as she pushes herself up and moves towards Rich.
I'm gonna ride you, just how Matt wanted me to , just like he'd always fantasised about."
She drops to a kneeling position facing Rich, her full tits swaying with the movement, the fishnets clinging to her thick thighs. She reaches out, her fingers wrapping around Rich’s thick cock, giving it a few slow, testing strokes. The girth of him is impossible to fully close her hand around, the veins bulging beneath her grip as she squeezes.
Matt watches from behind, his own cock aching, the thick vein pulsing visibly as he strokes himself slowly, precum dripping from the tip. The sight of his wife’s hand wrapped around another man’s dick makes his balls draw up tight against his body.