Bermuda Bound: My First BBC Creampie Vacation

The sun beats down on my face as I sit on the balcony, the salty breeze carrying whispers of laughter from the beach below. I can’t help but think about what’s happening down there, where my wife is probably already deep in conversation with the bull she’s been eyeing all week. The thought of her, so eager and ready, makes my stomach churn. I know what’s coming, and it’s not just the sunset. It’s the inevitable creampie, the final act of her vacation fling, and the reminder of my place in this twisted game.

Her Anklet Jangles as She Walks Away

I watch as she walks away, her anklet jingling with each step, a sound that’s become a cruel symphony of my humiliation. The bull, a towering figure with a cock that’s the stuff of legends, follows her with a smirk. I can almost hear his dirty talk, the promises of pleasure that he’ll deliver. She’s his cum slut for the week, and he knows it. I’m just the cuckold, the one who gets to clean up the mess, both literally and figuratively. The thought of her taking that big black cock, of her moans echoing in the night, is almost too much to bear. But I bear it, because that’s what I do.

The Weight of Her Cheating

As the night deepens, I can’t escape the weight of her cheating. The sounds of their pleasure drift up to me, a cruel reminder of what I’m missing. But it’s not just about the sex; it’s about the power, the control. She’s the one in charge, and I’m just along for the ride. The creampie, when it comes, will be the ultimate humiliation, the final act of her domination. And I’ll take it, because that’s what she wants. That’s what I’m here for. The vacation is almost over, but the memories, the humiliation, will linger long after we’ve left Bermuda behind.