The tension is palpable, a knot in my gut that won’t loosen. I’m lying here, shirtless, my bald head glistening under the harsh daylight. The weight of her body, the woman in the wedding dress, presses down on me. Her veil brushes against my face as she leans in, her breath hot on my skin. The words ‘SWALLOW EVERYTHING YOU WHORE’ echo in my mind, a command I can’t ignore. Her hat, a ridiculous thing with a veil, casts a shadow over my face, blocking out the world. I’m trapped, a cuckold in my own humiliation.
Outdoor Humiliation: The Wedding Cuckold
The greenery around us, lush and vibrant, seems to mock my predicament. The man in formal attire, standing to the side, watches with a smirk. He’s the real man here, the bull, the one who’s gonna take what’s mine. Her dress, a white vintage thing with lace, rustles as she moves, a sound that grates on my nerves. I can feel her, her presence, her power. She’s the cum slut, the one who’s gonna swallow everything, and I’m just here, a spectator to my own degradation. The tattoos on my arms, once symbols of strength, now feel like scars of weakness. And as she leans in closer, her lips almost touching mine, I can’t help but wonder, who’s the real man in this wedding scene? Is it me, the cuckold, or the bull who’s gonna take her? The question hangs in the air, as heavy as the tension in my body. I’m a slave to this moment, a pawn in their game, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.








I would love seeing my new bride enjoying black cock, knowing that the black cock was going to be consummating our marriage all night.