Wife Describes Her Ex-Boyfriend's Big Cock

Warrick stretched out on their wide bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp catching the flush still lingering on his skin from the night out. At twenty-eight he felt loose and warm from the drinks and the dancing, but the real heat sat low in his belly as he watched his wife. Miriam, twenty-six and still in the black dress she’d worn to the club, lay on her side facing him, one bare thigh sliding against the sheets. Her dark hair spilled over the pillow. The air between them hummed with that particular charge that always followed a night of teasing touches on the dance floor and lingering looks over cocktails.

He reached out and traced a finger along the curve of her hip. “Tell me about Gideon,” he said, voice low. “His cock. I want every detail. How big it was. How it looked. How it felt.”

Miriam’s lips curved. She didn’t hesitate. Her eyes stayed locked on his as she shifted closer, the fabric of her dress riding higher. “You really want it, don’t you? All of it.” Her hand rested on his chest, feeling the quicken of his heartbeat. “Gideon’s cock was… fucking massive. When he first pulled it out I actually stared. It hung heavy, already half-hard, and even then it looked thicker than anything I’d ever seen. Fully hard it was easily nine inches, maybe a little more, and so thick my fingers couldn’t meet around it. The head was fat and flushed dark, shiny whenever he got wet, and the shaft—God, the shaft was covered in these thick veins that stood out under the skin. They throbbed when he got really hard. I used to trace them with my tongue just to feel them pulse.”

Warrick’s cock stirred hard against his thigh. He swallowed, already aching. The picture she painted landed straight in his gut. He could almost see it: that heavy length rising, the veins standing proud. Miriam watched his face and smiled wider, clearly feeding on his reaction.

“He was cut,” she went on, voice dropping into that filthy, private register she saved for moments like this. “So the head was always exposed, always looking eager. When he got fully hard it would twitch and jump, like it had a mind of its own. The skin was hot, smooth over all that thickness, but those veins made it feel textured when I stroked it. My hand looked small wrapped around it. I’d have to use both hands just to cover most of the length, and even then the head still pushed out past my fingers, leaking. He tasted sharp and clean when I first put my mouth on him. I could barely get the head past my lips without stretching my jaw.”

Warrick’s breathing had already changed. He shoved the covers lower and wrapped his own fist around his cock, giving it a slow pull. The friction made him hiss. “Keep going. Don’t stop. Tell me how it stretched you.”

Miriam’s free hand drifted down between her own legs, pushing her dress up so she could cup herself through her damp panties. Her fingers pressed in, slow circles while she talked. “The first time he pushed inside me I thought I might split. He lined that fat head up against me and just pressed. I was soaked, dripping down my thighs, but even so it took work. He rocked forward and that thick crown forced me open. I felt every ridge of it. The stretch burned in the best way—this deep, full ache that made my toes curl. Inch after inch he fed it into me. I could feel those veins sliding along my walls, rubbing everywhere. When he finally bottomed out I was stuffed so full I could barely breathe. My pussy was stretched tight around the base of him, gripping. I looked down and saw how my lips were pulled wide around that thick shaft, shiny and strained.”

Warrick stroked himself faster, eyes locked on her face, on the way her mouth moved around every filthy word. His cock felt heavy and urgent in his fist. Precome slicked his fingers. “More. How did it feel when he fucked you with it? Tell me exactly.”

She moaned softly, two fingers slipping under the edge of her panties now, sliding through her wetness. “He would pull almost all the way out so I could feel that fat head tugging at my entrance, then slam back in. Every thrust stretched me open again. I could feel the shape of him—the thick middle of his cock spreading me, those veins dragging along every sensitive spot inside. He hit so deep it made my stomach flutter. Sometimes he’d grind when he was buried, just rolling his hips so that huge thing rubbed in circles against my cervix. I’d come just from the pressure and the stretch. My pussy would clamp down hard around him and he’d groan because he could feel every flutter. He used to tell me how tight I got around his big cock, how he could see it bulging me a little from the outside when he pressed deep.”

Warrick’s free hand found her breast through the dress, squeezing, thumb dragging over her nipple until it stiffened. He was breathing hard now, fist working his cock in steady, tight strokes. The wet sound of her fingers moving between her legs mixed with the softer sound of his own hand. “Did you take all of it? Every fucking inch?”

“Every inch,” Miriam said, voice rough with arousal. She pushed her panties aside completely and sank two fingers into herself, fucking them in and out while she spoke. “I’d get on my hands and knees so he could go deeper. He’d grip my hips and just drive that massive cock into me over and over. I could feel it rearranging me. The stretch never really went away—even after I’d taken him a dozen times it still forced me open wide every single thrust. My pussy would be gaping a little when he pulled out, just for a second, before it fluttered closed again. And the veins—fuck, Warrick—I could feel every single one of them rubbing inside me. When he came he’d pump so much that it would leak out around his cock while he was still buried, dripping down my thighs because there was no more room left inside me.”

Warrick groaned, hips lifting into his fist. The image of her stretched around another man’s thick, veiny cock made his own throb harder. He could feel how close he already was, but he didn’t want to finish yet. He needed more of her words, more of that raw willingness. “Show me how wet you are remembering it. Let me feel.”

She pulled her glistening fingers free and brought them to his mouth. He sucked them clean, tasting her, while she kept talking, dirty and eager now, clearly as turned on by the telling as he was by listening.

“I used to sit on his face first so I’d be dripping, then climb on top and sink down onto that huge cock. Taking him that way made me feel every inch of the stretch in a different angle. I’d have to bounce carefully at first because it was so thick it dragged against everything. My clit would rub against those veins on the way up and down. I’d come hard just from riding him, squirting a little around that fat shaft while he held my hips and forced me to take it all. He loved watching my pussy swallow him. He’d spread me open with his thumbs so he could see exactly how wide he was stretching me.”

Warrick’s control frayed. He released his cock and reached for her, one hand gripping her thigh hard enough to leave marks, hauling her closer across the sheets. Miriam came willingly, dress rucked up around her waist, panties shoved aside. Her wet heat pressed against his bare hip as she climbed half on top of him. Their mouths met in a messy, open kiss full of teeth and tongue. She kept murmuring against his lips between kisses, voice raw.

“He was so thick I could still feel him the next day. That good ache deep inside. Sometimes I’d touch myself remembering the way those veins felt sliding in and out of me, how my pussy had to work to take him.”

Warrick’s hand shoved between her legs, two fingers plunging into her without preamble. She was soaked, clenching around him immediately. He fucked her with his fingers the way he imagined Gideon’s cock had, hard and deep, curling them to rub that same spot she was describing. Miriam cried out and rocked down onto his hand, chasing more.

“That’s it,” he growled. “Keep telling me. Tell me how you took that big fucking cock while I finger you.”

She did, words tumbling out filthy and breathless as she rode his hand. “I’d get on my back and hold my knees open so he could watch it go in. That fat head would pop inside and then the rest would follow, stretching me wide, veins dragging. He’d fuck me slow at first just so I could feel every inch of the thickness, then he’d pound me until the bed shook. I’d come with him buried to the hilt, pussy spasming around all that hard meat, milking him. He came so hard inside me I’d feel the hot pulses and know I was full of him—”

Warrick pulled his fingers free, slick and shining, and gripped his own cock again, lining it up against her entrance. Miriam reached down too, wrapping her smaller hand over his, guiding him. Their eyes locked. The air between them felt electric, charged with every filthy memory she’d poured out and every throb of fresh lust it had woken.

“Fuck me while I tell you the rest,” she whispered, already lifting her hips, the head of his cock kissing her wet heat. “I want you inside me while I describe exactly how Gideon’s huge cock ruined me for anything smaller.”

He thrust up as she sank down. They both groaned at the first deep slide, her pussy gripping him greedily. She kept talking even as she started to move, voice breaking into moans, painting more vivid pictures of thickness and stretch and veiny texture while Warrick held her hips and fucked up into her in hard, matching strokes. The night was only beginning.

Warrick’s cock filled her completely as Miriam sank down, her pussy already clenching hard around him from the stories pouring out of her mouth. She rolled her hips in a slow circle, grinding her clit against the base of his shaft, and kept talking without missing a beat. “Gideon’s cock was so fucking thick that even when I was dripping like this it still took three or four tries to get the head inside. I’d feel that fat crown stretch my lips wide, then the first thick inch would force its way in and I’d gasp because the veins were already rubbing. Remember how I said my fingers couldn’t close around it? That was real. Nine thick inches of solid meat, the head flaring out wider than the shaft, always shiny and dark when he was ready.”

She lifted herself until just the tip of Warrick stayed inside her, then dropped hard, taking him to the root in one wet slide. Both of them groaned. Miriam planted her hands on his chest and began to ride him properly, bouncing with short, sharp strokes that made her tits sway under the half-unzipped dress. Warrick’s hands gripped her ass, spreading her open so he could watch his own cock disappear into her. The sight and her words together made his balls tighten.

“Turn around,” he rasped. “I want to watch your ass while you keep telling me.”

Miriam didn’t hesitate. She lifted off him, spun on the mattress, and straddled him reverse-cowgirl, facing his feet. She reached back, found his slick cock, and guided it to her entrance again. The fat head kissed her cunt, then she lowered herself slowly, letting him feel every inch of her heat as she took him. From this angle the stretch felt different—deeper, the head dragging along her front wall. She planted her feet on either side of his hips and started to ride, lifting and dropping in a steady rhythm that made her ass bounce against his pelvis.

“Look how your cock looks going into me,” she said over her shoulder, voice husky. “But Gideon’s was thicker. I could feel every ridge of those veins when I rode him like this. I’d lean forward the same way I’m doing now and that huge shaft would drag out of me almost all the way, then I’d slam back down and take every last inch. The head would punch against my cervix and those veins would scrape along my g-spot on every stroke. My pussy would be stretched so wide around him that I could feel air when he pulled out—just a second of emptiness before I forced myself back onto that big fucking cock.”

Warrick stared at the place where his cock split her open, watching her pink lips grip him, shiny with her juices. He thrust up to meet her downward plunges, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the bedroom. His hands roamed up her back, then around to cup her swinging tits through the dress, pinching her nipples hard enough to make her cry out.

“Keep describing it,” he ordered, hips snapping up harder. “Every inch. How it looked when you sat on it.”

Miriam bounced faster, her breath coming in ragged pants between the filthy words. “It looked like it barely fit. The shaft was so thick that my lips were pulled tight and thin around it, shiny and stretched. I could see the thick veins disappearing into me one by one. The middle of his cock was the thickest part—this heavy bulge that forced me open widest right in the middle of every thrust. When I bottomed out my ass would rest against his balls and I’d just sit there for a second, feeling stuffed, my belly almost rounded from how deep he was. Then I’d lift up and the whole thick length would slide out glistening, veins standing out, head flared and dripping with me. I’d drop again and take it all. He used to hold my hips and force me down harder so I couldn’t escape even one inch of that massive cock.”

She reached between her own legs and rubbed her clit in tight circles while she rode him, the dual sensation making her walls flutter around Warrick. He could feel how close she was getting—her pussy tightening, getting wetter, the filthy descriptions spilling faster.

“I used to come just from the stretch alone,” she moaned. “Sitting on that huge thing, feeling those veins pulse inside me while he throbbed. He’d flex it and I’d feel the whole thick shaft jump against my walls. Sometimes he’d pull me back so I was leaning against his chest and then he’d just thrust up into me from below—short, hard jabs that kept that fat head battering my deepest spot while the thickness never left me empty for a second.”

Warrick’s control was shredding. He sat up behind her, chest pressed to her back, one arm wrapping around her waist to hold her tight against him while the other hand took over rubbing her clit. He fucked up into her hard and deep from below, matching the reverse-cowgirl rhythm she had set, the new angle letting him drive even farther. Miriam’s head fell back against his shoulder. She kept talking through gasps and moans.

“That’s how he’d do it—just like this. Holding me open and pounding that thick cock up into me until I squirted all over him. I’d feel the first pulse of his come and it would be so much that it forced its way out around the base while he was still buried. Thick ropes flooding me, overflowing because there was no room left. My pussy would milk every drop and still he’d keep thrusting, using his own come as lube to fuck me through the aftershocks.”

Warrick growled against her neck. “Get on your knees. Now. I need to fuck you harder while you finish the story.”

Miriam lifted off him with a wet sound, scrambled forward onto all fours, and presented her ass. Her dress was bunched around her waist, panties long gone, her cunt glistening and slightly open from the riding. Warrick knelt behind her, lined up, and slammed home in one brutal thrust. Both of them shouted at the sudden depth. He set a punishing pace immediately—long, hard strokes that made her ass ripple with every impact, the headboard knocking against the wall.

“Tell me how Gideon fucked you like this,” he demanded, one hand fisting in her dark hair, the other gripping her hip hard enough to bruise. “Every detail while I pound this tight cunt.”

Miriam braced on her forearms and pushed back to meet every thrust, her voice breaking into cries but never stopping. “He’d grab my hips exactly like that and just destroy me with that huge cock. I’d feel the fat head shove in and then the whole thick shaft would follow, forcing my walls apart, those veins rubbing every sensitive inch inside me. He’d pull almost out so just the head stayed stretching my entrance, then slam back so deep I could feel it in my stomach. Over and over—hard, deep, relentless. My pussy would make these wet sucking sounds around him because he was so thick it created a perfect seal until the next thrust broke it. He’d grunt every time he bottomed out and tell me how good my little cunt looked stretched around his big cock.”

Warrick fucked her harder, the bed shaking, sweat slicking both their bodies. He reached under her and found her clit again, rubbing roughly in time with his thrusts. Miriam’s dirty talk dissolved into higher moans but she forced the words out anyway.

“He’d keep that rhythm for ages—long deep strokes that dragged every vein along my g-spot, then short brutal jabs that kept me stuffed full. I could feel him throbbing, getting thicker right before he came. He’d bury it to the hilt and flood me, pulsing so hard I came with him, my pussy clamping down and milking that massive shaft while hot come filled every empty space. Sometimes he’d pull out halfway through and paint my ass with the rest, thick white ropes dripping down onto my stretched hole, then shove back in and keep fucking his own mess deeper into me.”

The dual stimulation and the relentless descriptions shoved them both over the edge almost together. Miriam came first with a raw scream, her cunt locking down in hard rhythmic spasms around Warrick’s cock, juices flooding down her thighs and onto his balls. The tight milking pull dragged him after her seconds later. He slammed deep one final time and erupted, groaning her name as thick pulses of come pumped into her, so much it immediately leaked out around his still-thrusting shaft. He kept fucking her through it, short dirty strokes that forced more of their combined mess to drip onto the sheets, prolonging both their orgasms until Miriam’s arms gave out and she collapsed onto her chest, ass still raised, pussy twitching around him.

Warrick stayed buried inside her, panting, one hand stroking sweat-damp hair off her neck. He could feel aftershocks fluttering through her cunt. Miriam turned her head on the pillow, cheeks flushed, eyes dark with leftover heat and fresh hunger.

“I’m not done telling you,” she whispered, voice ruined and filthy. “There’s more. The way he’d make me suck that huge cock clean afterward… how it tasted with both of us on it… how he’d get hard again while I licked every vein.” Her walls squeezed deliberately around his softening cock. “Stay inside me. I want you hard again while I describe the rest.”

Warrick’s cock gave a weak but interested twitch still lodged deep in her flooded heat. He leaned over her back, kissed the side of her throat, and murmured, “Then keep talking. Every fucking detail. We’re nowhere near finished.”

Warrick’s cock twitched again inside her flooded heat, thickening slowly as Miriam squeezed around him on purpose. She stayed on her elbows and knees, ass raised, the black dress still bunched at her waist. His chest pressed to her back; he nuzzled the damp skin of her neck while she began talking once more, voice low and ruined.

“After he came he never pulled out right away,” she said. “He’d stay buried to the hilt so I could feel every last throb. That huge cock would keep pulsing—slow, heavy kicks against my cervix—while the come kept leaking out around the base because there was nowhere else for it to go. I’d clench just to milk more out of him, and he’d groan and swell again inside me. Even half-hard he was thicker than most men full. I’d rock back on it gently, just enough to feel those veins still standing out, still dragging along my walls.”

Warrick’s hips gave a lazy roll. He was hardening fully now, the earlier orgasm only taking the edge off. He slid one hand under her, cupping a breast through the open dress, pinching the nipple while the other hand stroked down her stomach to her clit. He rubbed slow circles as she kept describing.

“I’d make him lie back then,” Miriam continued, pushing her ass back against him so his cock sank deeper. “I’d turn around and straddle his face first, sit on his mouth until I dripped all over his tongue, then I’d reverse and lower myself onto that fat cock again. From above I could watch it disappear. The head would stretch me open, shiny with both of us, and then the thick shaft would follow inch by inch. I’d count the veins as they sank in—one, two, three—until my pussy lips were sealed tight around the base and my clit sat right against the root. He’d hold my hips and bounce me, short hard lifts that made the whole length work in and out while I stared down at how wide I was stretched.”

Warrick pulled almost free, then thrust back in hard enough to make her cry out. He set a deeper rhythm, long strokes that let him feel every flutter of her cunt. “Keep going,” he growled against her ear. “Tell me how it tasted after.”

Miriam’s breath hitched. “I’d climb off and kneel between his legs. That cock would be shiny and thick, still half-hard, dripping with his come and mine. I’d wrap both hands around it—fingers still couldn’t meet—and lick from the base up every vein. They throbbed under my tongue. I’d suck the head clean, swirl around the flared ridge, then try to take more. My jaw would ache. I’d only manage half before I gagged, but he’d push my hair back and watch me struggle, watch spit run down that massive shaft. The taste was sharp, salty, ours mixed. I’d stroke him with both fists while I sucked, twisting over the veins, until he was rock-hard again and leaking fresh precome onto my tongue.”

Warrick flipped them without warning. He rolled onto his back, pulling Miriam with him so she landed astride, facing him this time. She sank down onto his cock in one smooth motion, both of them groaning at the new angle. Her dark hair fell around her flushed face. She planted her hands on his chest and rode him steadily, lifting until just the head stretched her entrance, then dropping hard.

“He loved fucking my throat after that,” she said, eyes locked on Warrick’s. “He’d stand me up against the wall, tilt my head back, and feed that nine-inch cock between my lips. I’d feel the thick head force my mouth open wide, then the veins sliding over my tongue. He’d thrust shallow at first so I could breathe, then deeper until my nose pressed to his stomach and I could feel him pulsing in my throat. Spit would run down my chin onto my tits. When he pulled out strings of spit would connect us. He’d slap that heavy cock against my cheek, leave wet marks, then shove back in and fuck my mouth until tears ran and I was dripping down my thighs again just from the stretch of it.”

Warrick sat up, wrapping his arms around her so their chests pressed together. He fucked up into her with short, powerful jabs, grinding her clit against him on every stroke. Miriam’s voice broke into moans but she forced the words out, filthy and eager.

“Then he’d bend me over the nearest surface—dresser, couch, whatever—and slam back into my pussy. No warning. Just that fat head popping past my entrance and the whole thick length burying itself in one stroke. I’d scream because it always felt like the first time: too big, too much, veins scraping everywhere. He’d hold my shoulders and pound me until the furniture shook. I’d come hard around him, squirting down his balls, and he’d just keep going, using my own juices to fuck me even deeper. The wet sounds were filthy. Squelching every time that massive cock bottomed out.”

Their bodies slapped together faster. Sweat slicked their skin. Warrick’s hands gripped her ass, spreading her so he could thrust higher. Miriam’s nails dug into his shoulders. She was close again, walls fluttering wildly.

“One night he made me watch in the mirror,” she gasped. “I saw my own cunt stretched white around his shaft, lips thin and shiny, the thick middle of him bulging me. He’d pull out slowly so I could see every vein reappear glistening, then shove back in while I watched myself take it. I’d come just from the sight. He’d flex that cock inside me so I could feel it jump, feel the head swell against my deepest spot. Then he’d unload—hot, thick pulses that filled me until it poured out around the base and ran down my legs in long white streaks.”

Warrick flipped her onto her back. He hooked her knees over his elbows, folding her open, and drove into her hard and deep. The new position let him watch her face as she talked, watch her tits bounce with every thrust. Miriam reached between them and rubbed her clit furiously, matching his pace.

“He’d stay hard after,” she panted. “Even after pumping me full he’d stay thick and ready. He’d flip me onto my side, lift one leg, and fuck me like that so he could watch my pussy grip him from a new angle. The stretch never eased. Every thrust forced me wide again. I’d feel those veins throbbing harder right before he came a second time. He’d bury it and flood me again, so much that it leaked out in pulses while he was still moving. My belly would feel warm and full. I’d clamp down just to keep it in, but there was always too much.”

Warrick’s rhythm turned punishing. The bedframe slammed the wall. Miriam’s free hand clawed at the sheets. Her descriptions tumbled out broken by cries.

“Sometimes he’d pull out at the last second and stroke that huge cock over my open pussy, shooting thick ropes across my clit and lips, then shove back in and fuck the mess deeper. I’d feel every hot spurt against my walls. Other times he’d come on my tongue so I could taste how much there was, then push his cock back into my cunt still dripping and keep going until I came again around him.”

She was shaking now, right on the edge. Warrick leaned down and kissed her hard, swallowing her next moan, then pulled back just enough to speak against her mouth. “Come for me while you tell me how he throbbed.”

Miriam’s eyes fluttered. “He’d swell—bigger, thicker—right before. I’d feel the whole shaft jump inside me, those veins pulsing hard against my g-spot. Then the first thick spurt would hit deep and he’d keep throbbing, pumping more and more while my pussy milked him. It felt like his cock was alive, kicking and swelling with every jet—”

Her orgasm tore through her mid-sentence. She screamed his name, cunt locking down in fierce rhythmic spasms that dragged Warrick over with her. He buried himself to the root and came hard, groaning into her neck as fresh pulses flooded her already-messy heat. They rocked together through it, bodies locked, sweat and come slick between them, until the aftershocks faded into trembling.

Spent and panting, Miriam turned carefully in his arms so they faced each other on the tangled sheets. Warrick’s cock slipped free with a wet sound; their combined mess spilled onto the bed. She cupped his face, kissed him deeply—slow, thorough, tasting the salt of their sweat—then pressed her forehead to his. Her whisper was pure filth, soft against his lips.

“The way Gideon’s big cock used to throb when he came… it would kick so hard inside me I could feel every thick pulse travel up the shaft, veins standing out, head flaring wider with each jet until I thought it might never stop.”

They cuddled close, legs tangled, her head on his chest. Both still breathed hard, smiling with the heavy, satisfied lust that always followed nights like this. Miriam traced lazy circles on his skin. Warrick’s hand stroked her damp hair. The air smelled of sex and their shared heat. Neither wanted to move yet; the promise of more already hummed between them.

Miriam tilted her face up, eyes bright. “Next time we go out… want me to wear something that makes me remember him the whole night so I can tell you even dirtier details when we get home?”