My Wife’s Bull Breeding Session on the Third Floor

The harsh fluorescent light of the hotel hallway casts a cold glow on the worn carpet. I stand outside room 305, my heart pounding. The door opens, and there she is, my wife, dressed in that purple lingerie she knows drives me wild. ‘Hi bull,’ she purrs, her eyes gleaming with a hunger I’ve never seen. ‘I’m on the 3rd floor.’ Her voice is a mix of invitation and command. I’m just a cuckold, a spectator to her desires. She leads him inside, and I follow, my presence barely acknowledged. The room is dimly lit, the bed a stage for their performance. I sit on the edge, watching as he removes his mask, revealing a face I don’t recognize. She lies back, her legs elevated, a picture of submission and power. ‘Nice to meet u,’ she whispers, her voice laced with anticipation. I’m invisible, a ghost in the room, as he moves over her, his body covering hers. Her words echo in my mind, ‘I want to be your cow. Yes cow, I will breed you.’ The room is filled with the sounds of their pleasure, her moans a symphony of satisfaction. I’m a cuckold, a witness to her ecstasy, my own desires a distant memory.

Midnight Encounter: A Cuckold’s Vigil

The clock ticks past midnight, and the room is a blur of movement and sound. I watch as he takes her from behind, her back arched in pleasure. Her words, ‘Mmmm nice tight cunt,’ are a whisper in the darkness. I’m a cuckold, a silent observer, my presence a mere formality. The room is charged with a tension that’s almost palpable, a mix of desire and domination. She’s his cow, his plaything, and I’m just the cuckold, the one who watches and waits. The act continues, a dance of flesh and desire, and I’m on the sidelines, a spectator to her pleasure. The room is a stage, and they’re the stars, their performance a testament to her desires and his prowess. I’m a cuckold, a silent witness, my role defined by her pleasure and his dominance.

The Bull’s Claim: A Cuckold’s Submission

The act reaches its climax, and I’m a cuckold, a silent observer, my presence barely acknowledged. He pulls out, his seed a mark of his conquest, and she lies there, a picture of satisfaction. I’m a cuckold, a witness to her pleasure, my own desires a distant memory. The room is quiet now, the only sound the soft breathing of the two lovers. I’m a cuckold, a silent observer, my role defined by her desires and his dominance. The room is a stage, and they’re the stars, their performance a testament to her pleasure and his prowess. I’m a cuckold, a silent witness, my presence a mere formality. The act is over, but the memory lingers, a reminder of my role and her desires. I’m a cuckold, a silent observer, my presence barely acknowledged, my role defined by her pleasure and his dominance.