Wife's Two Black Bulls

Octavia stood at the bedroom window of their comfortable suburban home, the late afternoon light catching the silver in her beautiful gray hair. At sixty-three she still possessed a nice voluptuous body, heavy breasts and a round ass that filled her silk robe, hips that had never gone skinny. Behind her, sixty-six-year-old Andre sat on the edge of the bed, looking at his wife the way a starving man looks at a feast he can no longer taste. For two years his cock had refused to rise. They still kissed. They still held each other. The nights ended in her quiet, unfinished need.

He said it plainly, without shame. He wanted her to take a black lover. He had already spoken to Otto, a seventy-five-year-old virile strong bull with a ten-inch thick black cock, a man still hard as oak and proud of it. Andre confessed he wanted to watch Octavia experience the intense pleasure she craved. He wanted to see those gray curls bounce while a real cock stretched her.

Octavia’s pulse jumped. Interracial fantasies had lived in her for years, unspoken until now. She was nervous. She was also wet. She turned from the window, robe falling open over her voluptuous curves, and told her husband yes. She would fulfill them. She would take Otto. The air in the bedroom went electric, thick with the promise of what was coming.

Otto arrived at dusk, filling the doorway with seventy-five years of solid muscle and dark skin. He brought with him Damon, a fifty-year-old stud whose twelve-inch black dick already tented his pants. Both men were eager. They looked at Octavia like she was the meal they had been waiting for. They complimented her gray hair, her heavy tits, the ripe swell of her ass. Andre sat in the armchair by the bed, impotent and approving, his hands on his thighs, watching his wife flush.

Otto’s deep voice rolled over her. He told her she was built for black cock. Damon grinned and said twelve inches would ruin her for anything else. Octavia’s nipples tightened. She admitted it out loud, voice shaking with want: she wanted both of those powerful black cocks. She begged them to take her. Andre nodded. Every word was asked for. Every act that followed would be welcomed.

Octavia dropped to her knees on the bedroom carpet, robe gone, voluptuous sixty-three-year-old body naked between two black bulls. Otto’s ten-inch thick black cock sprang out heavy and dark, veined, the head already leaking. Damon’s twelve-inch black dick was longer, a brutal column that made her mouth water. She wrapped both hands around Otto first, stroking the thickness, then leaned in and sucked. Her lips stretched. She moaned around him, tasting salt, gray hair falling around her face as she bobbed. Andre watched from the chair, breathing hard.

She pulled off Otto with a wet pop and turned to Damon, taking as much of that twelve-inch black dick as she could, gagging happily, spit running down her chin onto her heavy breasts. She sucked them in turn, eager, messy, telling them how good they tasted, how long she had wanted this. Otto’s thick cock glazed her tongue. Damon’s longer one punched toward her throat. She directed them with her hands, tugging one man closer while she sucked the other, all of it wanted.

When her jaw ached she rose and pushed Otto onto the bed. She climbed on reverse-cowgirl, facing Andre, and sank down onto Otto’s ten-inch thick black cock. It split her cunt wide. She gasped, gray hair tossing, voluptuous ass spreading as she took him to the root. Damon stepped in front of her, twelve-inch black dick slapping her lips. She opened and deep-throated what she could, drooling, while she bounced on Otto. The older bull’s hands gripped her hips and helped her ride. Every stroke was hers. She told them faster. She told Damon to fuck her mouth. Andre’s eyes never left her stretched pussy swallowing that thick black cock.

They switched. Otto pulled out and Damon took his place on his back. Octavia mounted the twelve-inch black dick in missionary, legs spread, moaning as that length drove into her, filling her completely, pressing against places Otto’s thickness had already opened. Damon fucked her with powerful strokes, her heavy breasts bouncing, gray hair fanned on the pillow. Otto stood beside the bed and fed her his ten-inch cock again. She sucked while Damon pounded her, telling them both not to stop, begging for more, directing the angle with her heels in Damon’s back.

They flipped her onto all fours. Otto got behind her first, slamming that thick ten-inch black cock into her soaked cunt in doggy style, his virile seventy-five-year-old body slapping against her voluptuous ass. No anal. She had said no anal and they honored it, pounding only her greedy pussy. Damon knelt in front and she swallowed his twelve-inch black dick, gagging, spit stringing from her lips to his shaft. She reached back and spread herself for Otto, telling him to use her, telling Damon to hold her hair. The two black bulls switched again. Damon took her doggy, twelve inches punching deep with brutal rhythm, while Otto’s thick cock stretched her mouth. She came the first time with a scream around Otto, cunt spasming, juice running down her thighs. They did not stop. She came again when Damon found a merciless pace, her voluptuous body shaking, gray hair wild, Andre watching every wet slap.

They put her on her back once more. Otto’s ten-inch thick black cock pistoned in missionary, his strong frame covering her, her legs wrapped around him, tits crushed to his chest. Damon stroked his twelve-inch black dick over her face and she licked the head between moans. Then Damon replaced Otto, driving that massive length in until her belly felt full, her cunt clinging. She told them she loved it. She told them to wreck her. She told Andre to look at how stretched she was. Explosive orgasms tore through her, one after another, leaving her trembling, voice gone hoarse, pussy fluttering around whichever black cock was inside her. Every thrust was asked for. Every switch was directed by her own gasping commands.

When she was limp and dripping they pulled out. Otto and Damon stood over her voluptuous body and stroked. Heavy loads of cum splattered across her breasts and belly, thick white ropes painting her nipples, pooling in her navel, sliding down her sides. She rubbed it in, moaning, smearing black-bull seed over her sixty-three-year-old curves while Andre watched his wife glisten.

Otto and Damon promised they would return whenever she desired. Octavia lay there blissfully used, gray hair stuck to her damp cheeks, cunt still twitching, covered in their cum, already hungry for the next time those two huge black cocks would split her open and hose her down again.