Boss Breaks Our Bed and Seeds My Wife

Conrad, twenty-eight and already sweating through his dress shirt, opened the front door and found his voice stuck somewhere behind his teeth. His boss stood on the porch in a tailored charcoal suit, tall, broad through the shoulders, gray at the temples, and looking around the modest house as if he were appraising inventory. Cedric was forty-five, the kind of man who never raised his volume because the room already belonged to him.

“Come in,” Conrad said. “Gwen’s just finishing the drinks.”

Gwen came out of the kitchen in a short black dress that clung to her hips and left her thighs bare. She was twenty-six, dark hair loose, mouth painted the color of a ripe cherry, and when she saw Cedric she stopped for half a second that felt longer. Cedric’s eyes traveled over her openly, from collarbone to the soft swell of her breasts to the curve of her ass, and he smiled like a man who had already decided.

“So this is the wife,” he said. “Conrad talks about you. He undersold it.”

Gwen blushed all the way to her throat and laughed, low and warm. “You’re worse than he warned me.” She handed him a whiskey and let her fingers brush his. “Worse, or better?”

“Depends who you ask.” Cedric took the glass and sat on their couch as if it were his. Conrad sat opposite them and watched his wife take the cushion beside his boss, close enough that her knee touched Cedric’s thigh. The after-work drink was supposed to be polite. Cedric made it something else within minutes, asking Gwen what she did with her days, whether Conrad satisfied her, whether she liked being looked at. She answered every question. She leaned in. She bit her lip when he told her she had the kind of body a man ruined a marriage for.

Conrad’s cock thickened in his pants. Humiliation burned under his skin, hot and sharp, and he couldn’t look away. Gwen glanced at him once, cheeks flushed, and he saw the question there. He nodded, barely, the way they had practiced in whispers for months.

“We should show him the bedroom,” Gwen said, voice thinner than usual. “We’ve talked about it. A stronger man. Our bed.”

Cedric stood and offered his hand. Gwen took it. Conrad followed them down the hall, heart hammering, already hard enough to ache.

In the master bedroom the lamp was low and the wooden bed frame looked too ordinary for what they were about to do to it. Cedric shut the door and turned to Gwen, ignoring Conrad except to speak past him.

“I want to claim you,” he said, voice rough and certain. “Right here, in the bed he fucks you in. I want you dripping for me while he watches and knows he can’t match it.”

Gwen’s breath caught. She crossed the space between them and kissed Cedric hard, mouth open, tongue sliding against his, one hand fisted in his jacket. The sound of it filled the room, wet and hungry. Conrad stood by the dresser and felt his face burn. His wife moaned into another man’s mouth and pressed her body against Cedric’s chest as if she had been waiting all evening to be taken.

She broke the kiss and stepped back. Her fingers found the zipper at her side. The dress slid down her arms, over her hips, and pooled at her feet. She wore black lace panties and nothing else. Her nipples were tight, her stomach trembling. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband and peeled the panties down her thighs, and the fabric came away soaked, a glistening string of slick stretching and breaking. Between her legs her pussy was flushed and swollen, lips parted, a clear bead of wetness rolling down her inner thigh.

“Look at her,” Cedric said, not bothering to glance at Conrad. “Already dripping and I haven’t even touched her cunt.”

Gwen climbed onto the mattress on her knees and spread herself with two fingers, showing them both how shiny she was. “I want you to ruin it,” she said, voice shaking with want. “Ruin our bed. Fuck me harder than he ever has. Breed me. Fill me up and don’t pull out. Please, Cedric. I need your cum in me.”

Cedric stripped without hurry, jacket, shirt, belt, pants. His cock was thick and heavy, already hard, veins standing along the shaft. He stroked it once while he looked at her. Conrad’s hand had found his own zipper. He freed himself and stood there stroking slowly, ashamed and throbbing, watching his wife beg another man to put a baby in her.

“No hesitation left,” Cedric said. “You asked for it.”

He grabbed Gwen by the hips and threw her onto her back in the middle of the bed. The frame creaked. She laughed, breathless, and opened her legs wide, heels digging into the sheets. Cedric climbed over her, lined himself up, and pushed in with one long, brutal stroke that sank him to the root. Gwen cried out, back arching, nails raking his shoulders.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he growled, and started pounding her missionary, hips snapping, the whole bed jolting with every thrust. The headboard knocked the wall. Wood complained under them. Gwen’s tits bounced, her mouth open, eyes glassy with pleasure.

“Harder,” she gasped. “Break it. I don’t care. Just don’t stop.”

Cedric braced a hand beside her head and drove deeper, grinding his pelvis against her clit on every stroke. The mattress bucked. A sharp crack split the air from the left side of the frame, a joint giving way. Neither of them slowed. Sweat shone on Cedric’s back. Gwen locked her ankles behind him and pulled him in, meeting every slam, her pussy making wet, obscene sounds around his cock.

Conrad stroked faster in the corner, fist tight, watching his boss’s thick shaft disappear into his wife over and over. Cedric’s balls slapped her ass. Another crack, louder, and the bed sagged on one side.

“Flip,” Cedric ordered.

He pulled out, glistening, and manhandled Gwen onto her hands and knees. She went willingly, ass up, face turned so she could see Conrad. Cedric gripped her hips hard enough to bruise and slammed back in, doggy-style, burying himself so deep she sobbed.

“Oh god,” she moaned, voice breaking. “He never fucks me like this. Conrad never gets this deep. You’re splitting me open. Use me. Breed your little slut in his bed.”

Cedric fucked her like he meant to demolish the furniture and her both. The rhythm was violent, relentless, hips cracking against her ass, the wooden frame shrieking and splintering under them. A leg gave. The mattress dropped six inches on the near side and they kept going, Cedric hauling her back onto his cock every time she slid forward. Gwen’s arms shook. She reached between her legs and rubbed her clit, crying out with every thrust.

“Tell him,” Cedric said through his teeth. “Tell your husband whose cunt this is tonight.”

“Yours,” she wailed. “It’s yours. Fill me. I want your baby. Cum in me, Cedric, please, dump it all in my womb.”

The last support cracked. The bed collapsed in a crash of splintered wood and twisted slats, the mattress slamming to the floor. Cedric didn’t miss a stroke. He pinned her down on the ruined bed and hammered into her, balls tight, breath harsh. Gwen came with a broken scream, pussy clenching around him, juices soaking his cock and the sheets.

He buried himself to the hilt and stayed there, groaning, pumping thick ropes of cum deep into her. Conrad watched his boss’s cock pulse, watched Gwen’s belly jump with each heavy spurt, watched the overflow start to leak around the shaft even while Cedric was still unloading. Cedric ground in, milking every drop into her, then pulled out slow. A fat white river spilled from Gwen’s used hole and ran down her thigh onto the wrecked sheets.

Conrad came in his own fist a second later, groaning, stripes of cum hitting the carpet while he stared at his wife’s stuffed, leaking pussy.

Gwen rolled onto her back on the collapsed mattress, legs spread, Cedric’s load still pouring out of her in slow, creamy pulses. She looked at Conrad, flushed and wrecked and smiling like she owned him.

“Get over here,” she said. “Clean it. All of it. Tongue in my pussy until you’ve swallowed every drop he put in me and whatever’s still leaking.”

Conrad crawled between her thighs. The smell of sex and Cedric’s cum hit him first, thick and salty. He pressed his mouth to her swollen cunt and licked, broad and obedient, gathering the heavy seed on his tongue and swallowing. Gwen grabbed his hair and held him there, grinding against his face while more cum oozed out for him to eat.

“That’s it,” she said, breathless and mean. “Lick your boss’s cum out of me. I’m keeping it. I’m keeping his baby. You’re going to taste him in me every time he breeds me, and this bed is his now whenever he wants to come over and fill me again.”

Cedric stood over them, cock still wet, smirking down at the husband lapping his load from a freshly seeded wife.

“Good boy,” Gwen murmured, pushing Conrad’s face deeper into her messy cunt. “Swallow it all, you pathetic little cuck, and thank him for knocking me up in the bed he just broke.”