Yeah - Riding My Bull Part One

“Yeah, I’m married, but he lets me do what I want.”

“You should leave him and come sit on my lap.”

“He’s more of a man than you’ll ever be,” I said.

“I doubt that,” he said.

Men were generally overconfident like that. They were all different though which made them such a pain in the ass to compare. As if one should compare.

After fumbling with his drink, he said “I’m serious, I think you and me could be something.”

“Never,” I said.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he said. “With all the dick you get, you’d think you’d be a little more pliant.”

“Pliant?” I said, “Whoa, that’s a big word for you.”

“How about cunt,” he said.

“Something like that,” I said with a smile. It never bothered me. Hearing those kinds of words hurled at me. But I had hurt the poor bastard’s feelings, which was some feat considering I didn’t think he had any.

---

He was only semi-erect when he pulled his cock out of his jeans as he sat there in the armchair. Kneeling before him as I often did, he gently grabbed my hair and held it up in a bun as I put my mouth around him, all the way down to his bulbous set of balls. I loved giving him slow, sticky, agonizing head which created a surplus of saliva and slobber. That was a way to get a guy totally erect, if he wasn’t already.

He might have even been a little frustrated with me, the pace was so agonizingly slow and deliberate. He was the kind of guy I imagined just wanted to get to conquering the pussy – and other parts perhaps. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that kind of play with him, but he immediately alleviated those doubts by pulling out a cloth bag which contained a rather large glass butt plug. He knelt on the ottoman as I continued sucking his cock, reached around with his long muscular arms and inserted it into my ass hole. I was well trained already, but the coolness of the glass gave me shivers.

I was a bit floppy and ragdollish at this point already and with his massive strength he turned me around and teased his huge cock into my tight cunt and grabbed my arms, pulling them behind me until he fucked me so hard I came on his massive shaft. I hoped it was as good for him as it was for me, and I cracked an exhausted smile. Maybe I was giving too much away, but yeah yeah, fuck me like that. Please!

“How’d you like that,” he said matter-of-factly. He was the type of guy that didn’t even bother to punctuate his sentences. Don’t ask a question. Just state it you, bastard. How’d I like it. He knew, this was what I was signing up for.  I was seriously out of breath already.

He removed the butt plug and did what I was afraid he was going to do, put it in my ass. He seemed very proud of himself and although I was still in a little bit of shock, I was used to men kind of tripping over themselves around me and he was just a brute, in complete control and the worst part was, he knew it. My husband was pretty kinky, and I think he enjoyed knowing that I was out playing while he was away, but this guy used me like a toy he just pulled out of his pocket.

Powerful thrusts again and again until I did what I never did – whimper and ask him to come – begged him – I couldn’t take any more. Of all the men I had experienced, he was the strongest, most in control and infuriating beasts. Dare I call him a stud. Do women still use that word? I didn’t really fall for guys like this although I had little experience with bulls like him. They were generally good for one thing and it wasn't conversation. Though Morries seemed a little different. Had a dark side.

I knelt before him again ready to take what he had to give me, but he grabbed me by the hair and flipped me almost on my head and stroked his cock until it shot out thick streams of white all over my neck and chin before finally releasing me in a crumpled heap. I had just gotten my hair done and now his sticky secretion was stuck in it. Fuck.

---

He wandered into the kitchen, not even bothering to get re-dressed. Opened the fridge and pulled out some muscle milk concoction.

“What the fuck Mo,” I said in the aftermath. “where’d you learn how to fuck?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it,” he said. I wasn’t going to admit it, but I did. Except for the hair part. That was a pain in the ass.

“You’re not…not good,” I said. I was lying. He knew I loved every second of it. But it was my desire to butt heads with this bull as much as he would tolerate, either before he smacked me or worse, became disinterested.

My husband was a beast too but so much more conciliatory. He was a good man to have, and I loved him, but I always seemed to want what wasn’t good for me, which ironically felt so good I couldn’t resist.

He pretended not to hear me and said, “I’ll be in the shower,” and left me slumped in the chair to ponder my thoughts. He didn’t even invite me to get in the shower with him. I was a little offended, but this was his grace, the way he was, and it was magnificent. I was beginning to get a little worried. Was I falling for this guy? Was I in some kind of trouble? I felt pretty low, though satisfied. How could I wander back home, sore ass and all, to my loving hubby?