Disco Cuck (Part 2 of 2)

Tommy thought he was safe. He figured hiring Moe would keep things simple, let A.J. focus on starting a family. Now the back room reeks of sweat and the bar’s cheap perfume, and A.J. is bent over a leather couch, taking every inch Moe’s got. Tommy stands in the doorway, frozen, watching his wife’s ass spread wide around that thick black cock. Every thrust knocks the breath out of her, but the moans keep coming, louder, dirtier. Tommy’s stomach knots—he can’t stop thinking how that giant rod might split her open—but A.J.’s face is pure bliss, mouth open, eyes rolled back. She drags Moe to the lounge, shoves him down, climbs on. Her blonde hair whips as she grinds, bouncing, riding hard, thighs flexing, that fat ass slapping his lap. Then she drops to her knees on the carpet, looks straight at Tommy and laughs. “Watch this, baby.” Moe slams back in from behind, hips snapping, balls swinging, pounding so deep A.J. has to grab the cushions to stay upright. “Turn me into your cock slut,” she begs, voice hoarse. Moe picks up the pace until A.J. reaches back, strokes that monstrous shaft, tells him to cover her. When he pulls out and shoots, thick ropes splatter across her lower back and cheeks. Tommy stares, realizing exactly how their son T.J. came to be.