NELSON – Streatham

The Bull

Ever since I can remember I’ve had a thing about going with other people’s women. Maybe it’s the thrill of the chase. Maybe it’s the power trip. Maybe it’s just because I can, but whatever it is, for me there’s nothing quite like being up to my balls in somebody else’s girl’s pussy, and the more pissed off he’d be about it the better.

I don’t really count the early stuff. When you’re eighteen or nineteen you change girlfriends like you change your clothes and half the people have bonked each other anyway. So I reckon my first as the time I’d got my first regular job and fucked the boss’s wife. He was one of these big name chefs, and the way he carried on you’d have thought he was royalty, only I’m sure royalty would never have behaved the way he did. He was a complete bastard, even to the managers, and to me, the kitchen boy in his biggest restaurant, he barely acknowledged that I existed. It wasn’t just that he had a hot temper either. He really thought he was it, and he was the only man I’ve ever met who openly claimed to be a genius.

Maybe he could cook, but he wasn’t so clever. His wife was beautiful, and he used to parade her around like she was part of his property, no different to the way he treated his cars. She was always immaculate, designer dresses, unique jewellery from the best places, the works. He was a right arse licker too, because whenever anybody famous came to the restaurant he’d be there, with her on his arm, trying to make out like he was personal friends with whoever it was. He kept pretty close tabs on his wife too, only not close enough.

The first time was after some film premier. There were loads of celebrities about, and we’d got two tables booked. He was well pleased with himself, and yelling at everybody, telling us we’d be sacked if we made even one mistake. I just got on with my job, which was mainly hauling crates and shifting tables and chairs, taking out the trash bags, really any thing that nobody else wanted to do. He’d made it very plain to me that he wanted me out of sight and told me that if I bothered the celebrities I’d be sacked on the spot. I hadn’t planned on bothering anybody. That was his job.

Once the restaurant was open but before people started to leave their tables there wasn’t a lot for me to do, but I was keen not to catch his eye, or anybody else’s, because his bad temper tended to feed down the food chain and I was at the bottom. I spent as much of the evening as I could out the back, where there was a little yard where the deliveries came in. When the door opened I quickly pretended to be busy stacking crates, only it wasn’t one of the chefs or waiters, it was her.

She did look good. The yard light was right above her, which made a sort of golden halo of her hair and helped to show off the dress she was wearing. It was red, and clung to every contour of her body, right down to her ankles. She’d been a catwalk model before they’d met, and she had that sort of figure, very tall and willowy, only with enough hips and bust to leave no doubt whatsoever that she was a grown woman. Grown, yes, but actually not all that much older than me, only because of who she was I’d never even tried to talk to her.

I didn’t try then, either, but kept on with my stacking, expecting her to ignore me, or maybe criticise me for something, because I’d always assumed she’d be a bitch. Who else would have married him? Only she didn’t. She just stood there, smoking, just as if she’d come out for a quick fag like one of the kitchen staff, and then she said hello. I said hello back and we started to talk, me pretty blunt, her with this sort of teasing manner, like it amused her to speak to the kitchen boy. That would have pissed me off, normally, only there was something about her voice and the way she was looking at me, something warm.

When she said she’d had her eye on me I thought it meant one of two things, that she didn’t like me and was going to get me sacked, or that she did like me and wanted to help me move up in the trade. From the way she was it looked likely to be the second, and if I didn’t really want to be her pet then I’ve got too much sense to turn down that sort of chance. The truth was something else.

She started talking about my muscles, a few comments, then she came over and took a squeeze of my arm. I thought she was trying to get a rise out of me, maybe even coming on to me a bit so that when I responded she could have the pleasure of putting me down, perhaps even getting me the sack. So I held back a bit, but that only made her keener. She kept glancing at the door too, and after a bit suggested that we move round to the side, where we couldn’t be seen. That’s where she asked me to take my coat and top off and work bare from the waist up. No woman does that unless she’s interested, and she was getting to me, what with the way she looked and the way she moved. She smelt lovely too, and all in all she was making me so horny that even though I still thought she was riding me for a fall I did it. That was the end of my doubts. Once I’d been working with no top for a couple of minutes it was quite obvious she was turned on. Her nipples were sticking up through her dress like corks for a start, and there was no mistaking the glitter in her eyes or the way her painted lips stayed a little bit open.

I suggested that if I was going to have no top, then nor should she. She said I was a cheeky monkey, then quickly realised what she’d said and apologised, then said she’d do as I’d asked to show she wasn’t a racist. Looking back, I reckon she had the whole thing set up, but just then I didn’t care, only as long as she did what she’d promised, which was to slip the straps of that amazing red dress off her shoulders and ease it down off her breasts and to her waist. She had nothing on underneath, but she was so firm they stayed just as they were, quite big, and very proud, each lovely round tit topped by a hard pink nipple.

That was more than I could resist. She was into me and that was enough, so I took hold of her, kissing her with one of those perfect tits in one hand and the other clamped to her lovely little bum. She was really soft, for all the way her flesh held up so perfectly, and she felt light and fragile in my arms. She seemed to like what I was doing too, and she definitely liked my muscles, because she couldn’t stop stroking the skin of my back and arms, at least, not until she went down to take a squeeze of my cock.

I am big, and that’s not always a good thing because some girls can’t take it, or want to but find it hurts. From the little purr of delight she gave when she took hold I knew she liked it, and before I could do anything else she’d gone down into a squat and unzipped me, to pull out my cock and balls. My cock went straight into her mouth and she started to play with my balls while she sucked me, really enjoying herself. So was I, just to see her face, so pretty and immaculately made up, only with her red painted lips parted around my shaft.

I was half hard already, just from looking at her and that quick feel, and she soon got me all the way in her mouth. When she came off she gave that little purr again, then told me to make it quick. I knew what she meant and I didn’t need telling. Somebody might come out into the yard at any moment, and they only had to come as far as the gate to see us. I took over, treated her like I’d treat any other woman who I knew was up for it, like a fuck dolly. I wasn’t going down on the ground, so I bent her over a stack of crates and pulled up her dress. She had no knickers, so I got her perfect little bum bare in one, all round and sweet between her dress and the tops of her fancy stockings, with her tight little arsehole showing in the middle. She stuck it out, letting me see the target, with just a little triangle of hair over her slit and her lips sticking out ready to be parted. Her hole was wet with her juice and I went in easily, right up with one hard shove, as far in as I could get. That made her moan, and she kept on as I set to fucking her, groaning and gasping and saying how much she loved my cock while I’m pumping it in and out of her pussy.

I could just see my boss’ face if his precious wife produced a mixed race baby nine months later, but I didn’t care. If anything that made it even better, because he was such a bastard and there I was, up to my balls in his precious wife with her begging for more. I just spunked, right up her, and the moment she realised she whipped around to take me in her mouth again, sucking like she was demented and rubbing at her pussy at the same time, swallowing down my come and her own juice, over and over until she came.

That was just the first time, and there were plenty more. I did get sacked in the end, but not for shagging his wife, just because I lost it with some stuck-up customer and told him to go and fuck himself. That didn’t stop us, and for the next year and a bit I used to go around to their house in Chelsea when he was at work and do my best to bonk her senseless on their bed. In the end they got divorced, she married a footballer and went to live up north, then in Spain, but I still remember her bent over those crates, her dress rucked around her waist to leave her titties out and that lovely little arse on show, with her pussy wet and ready for fucking between her thighs.

Another good thing she did was give me a lot more confidence. Before that I’d always assume that most women were pretty calculating, and would only go with you if there was something in it for them. She taught me an important fact, which is that for all their airs and graces, when it comes down to it women are just as keen on cock as we are on pussy. OK, so a lot of the time you have to pretend it’s not about cock, but when it comes right down to it that’s what they’re after.

While I was having her regularly I also managed to hook up with one of her friends. She was the same sort, a beauty who’d married rich and aimed to stay that way. Her husband was a banker, which meant he was hardly ever there, so I’d spend hours with her, both of us stark naked, just talking and drinking his champagne in between bouts of sex. She was good too. She liked to go on top, not so much because that way she was in control, but because she couldn’t get me all in but she loved to see herself in the mirror from behind, with her legs right open, her pert little bum spread wide and her pussy hole straining wide around the shaft of my cock. It did look good too, I’ve got to say.

The really good thing about her was that she wasn’t jealous, just the opposite. She used to love the idea of sharing me with her friends, like I was a special treat she could give and a secret they all shared away from their husbands and boyfriends. A few months after I’d had my last go with the first girl I had three regulars, a year later, five, a year after that, eight. That’s eight beautiful women, all married, all getting their portions at least once a week. Most of them knew about each other, and there was a bit of competition, but I managed to handle all that even if it was getting hard to satisfy them. The hardest part was trying to fit them all in, and in the end I fucked up, but that only made it better.

I was supposed to be seeing the girlfriend of a French footballer, or at least I thought I was, but when I got to her place she was there with a friend, who we’ll call Vivienne. I was going to leave, but they made it very plain they didn’t mind and we got down to business, both of them together, stripped off on the guy’s huge waterbed, first sucking me together and then with their arses in the air while I took turns with them from behind. Four times I came before they’d had enough, and my cock felt like it had been skinned, but it was worth it.

After that Vivienne became one of my regulars. She was married to a well known entrepreneur, and he was a lot older than her, so not only didn’t she see him very much, but she didn’t get much when she did. That was her line anyway, and I liked her, especially the way she never seemed to be able to get enough, and she really liked my cock. She was a dirty bitch too, into all sorts of stuff, but she was very particular. Like my banker’s wife, she liked to go on top, but she also liked it from behind, and to suck my balls and lick my arse, but always on the same side of the bed. Four times I had her before I figured out why.

Their house was huge, with enormous rooms and really high ceilings. The bedroom was just the same, a great square room looking out over a park and the furniture wouldn’t even have fitted into a normal room. Against one wall was this massive wardrobe, an antique with three doors and a panel in each covered by old black wickerwork. I had better things to look at, so I hardly noticed it, until my fifth visit. She wanted to see if she could fit me in up her bum, and as always she wanted it a very particular way. That meant with her kneeling on the bed, facing the window, her knees wide, wide apart and her face in the covers so that her bum was the highest part of her body. She stayed like that while I got her ready, licking her bumhole and then lubing her up with this special cream she’d bought, until she was open enough to take this little pink plug she’d bought as well, because she’d got the whole thing worked out, every detail she needed to get her bum fucked.

I was having a good time, playing with her pussy as well as getting her open, pausing now and then to have her suck my cock. It wasn’t long before I’d got her so loose I could pop the plug in and out easily, and by then she was getting pretty breathless. She asked me to try and put it in, but insisted I got right up over her, with my cock pushed down as I put it up her bum. I did my best, and it was a good position because it meant I could watch her ring spread as I pushed myself in, and she seemed to be loving it.

She told me to go slow, so I did, but as I pushed in and out of her arsehole I could hear a creaking noise, which I’d have thought was just the bed, only it was to a different rhythm. I tried to ignore it, but it started to get louder and faster, only to suddenly stop and then start again, so it was really putting me off. She didn’t seem to have noticed and was begging me to push in deeper so she could come with me up her bumhole, so I tried to focus.

I meant to spunk up her when she came, which they always like, but the noise was distracting me and I didn’t make it, so when she’d done her bit I told her to stay like she was for me to finish off and pulled out. I’d realised the noise was coming from the big wardrobe, but I thought it was just because we were making the floor shake. I never expected for a moment that when I opened the door I’d find her husband in there, cowering back among the coats and stuff, stark naked, with his weedy little cock in his hand.

I think he thought I was going to hit him or something, but even then I thought he’d caught us and not that I’d caught them. That was what it was. He liked to watch and she liked him watching, which was why whatever we did it always had to be near the wardrobe, and was part of the reason she liked it so dirty. The main reason was that for him, the dirtier I got with her the better. He was the one who’d persuaded her to take it up the bum, and he’d brought all she toys so that I could get her hole open while he watched.

At first I was a bit pissed off, but I had been having a lot of fun with her and in the end agreed to carry on as long as he stayed out of the way. She started to call me her bull after that, which I didn’t mind either, although it was all definitely a bit weird. Now that I knew he was in the wardrobe she’d talk dirty to me, but for his benefit, praising my cock and saying how big it was and how it satisfied her, and again and again calling me her bull. At first that made it hard to enjoy myself, especially when I knew he was watching, but it’s amazing what you can get used to. After a bit him being there didn’t bother me at all, and when she asked if she could let him out of the wardrobe to watch close up I agreed.

It was actually all right. I’d always enjoyed the thought of the guy whose wife I was fucking, and it was quite a kick to having one watching but still be able to do whatever I liked. He wasn’t even allowed to touch, but had to sit on the bed, looking absolutely fucking miserable as he watched his wife suck and fuck, but all the time playing with his little cock. He couldn’t get hard, or at least not while I was around, but he always used to come, often a long time before I did, and when that happened he looked even more miserable, but he’d never try to stop us.

It was the second time she asked me to fuck her bottom that it got really weird. I knew he was going to watch, like he always did, and wank, but what I did not expect was that the moment I’d come up her arse and pulled out she would order him to lick up what I’d done in her hole. He did it, and for the all the disgusted expression on his face I could tell he was enjoying it from the way he was tugging on his cock and he came in a few seconds. That, I think, was the dirtiest thing I’ve ever seen a cuckold do, and that’s what he was, a man who gets off on seeing his wife go with another man, preferably a big man with a big cock.

I had all of that, and I was more than happy to go for it when it meant a plentiful supply of pussy. I even suggested it to one or two of the other girls, because I would love to have seen their husbands’ faces while they watched us fuck. Most of them were horrified, and none of them would go for it, so I contented myself with Vivienne, and I still do, once a week as a regular thing on a Friday night.