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12-12-2024, 05:05 PM
(This post was last modified: 13-12-2024, 12:21 AM by Naruto411. Edited 3 times in total. Edited 3 times in total.)
This story explores a consensual and intimate kink—cuckolding. It's important to note that all characters in this narrative have willingly chosen to embrace this dynamic as part of their personal desires and fantasies. The content within may not be for everyone, and that’s perfectly okay. If you're uncomfortable with the themes of this story, I encourage you to stop reading now and find something that better suits your interests.
I respect all forms of consensual exploration and desire. This story is meant to be a safe space for those who enjoy this particular kink mmf, and I ask for the same respect from those who choose to read it. The characters in this narrative, including myself as the bull, are engaging in a consensual experience that fulfills their desires. If you’re here for the kink, I hope you enjoy the story. If you’re not, please understand that this is a space where personal preferences are respected.
Remember, everyone’s desires and fantasies are unique, and as long as they are explored safely and consensually, they are valid. Please read with an open mind, and let's keep the space respectful for all.
Some like incest some get disgusted by it it's their own choice keep it with your own self . That would make world happy place like if religions kept it to themselves and not spread around forcing once opinion or faith on to others
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Priya leaned against the edge of the bed, her body wrapped in the soft, clinging fabric of her satin nightwear. The room was dim, shadows dancing across her skin as her husband, Harpit, knelt before her, his lips brushing against her inner thighs with a delicate, deliberate worship that sent shivers coursing up her spine. She bit her lip, glancing back at me, her "bull," with a mischievous, teasing look that was equal parts invitation and defiance.
I stepped closer, the weight of my presence commanding attention. Priya’s breath hitched as my hands found the waistband of her night pants. Slowly, deliberately, I began to peel them down, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of her smooth, golden skin. Harpit’s gaze flicked upward, his eyes wide, pupils blown with something between awe and arousal. He didn’t stop. If anything, his lips pressed harder, his tongue darting out to trace patterns against her skin, his devotion undeterred.
When the fabric fell away completely, Priyalet out a soft gasp, her body trembling as I ran a hand over her bare hips, pulling her closer against me. My fingers dug in slightly, asserting ownership as her head fell back onto my shoulder.
Harpit’s kisses grew more fervent as he worked his way upward, his mouth now trailing over her mound, his tongue daring to venture further. His movements stuttered when he felt the hard, unyielding weight of my arousal brush against him. For a split second, he froze.
Then, with an almost imperceptible sigh, he continued, his tongue slipping between Priya’s folds as I guided myself against her from behind, teasing her entrance. The heat between us was electric, the air thick with unspoken tension and forbidden lust.
Priyamoaned softly, her hand reaching back to clutch at me, urging me closer. The moment was primal, charged. As I began to slide into her, Harpit’s lips faltered once more, the tip of his tongue grazing against me as I moved. He didn’t pull away this time; instead, there was a deliberate, almost curious pressure as he continued his ministrations, his breath warm and uneven against both of us.
Her moans grew louder, filling the room as I claimed her fully, each thrust sending shockwaves through her body. Harpit’s hands gripped her thighs tightly, steadying her as he lavished her with his tongue, his movements synchronized with mine. The lines between us blurred—her pleasure, his submission, my dominance—all merging into a singular, hedonistic rhythm.
At some point, the intensity became too much, and we all paused, our breaths ragged, bodies trembling. Priyaturned her head to look at both of us, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from biting them too hard.
“That was... unexpected,” she said softly, her voice tinged with both excitement and trepidation. “Are we okay with this? All of us?”
Harpit wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his gaze flicking between me and his wife. His face was a mix of uncertainty and yearning, but he nodded slowly. “If you’re happy, I’m happy,” he said, though his voice wavered slightly.
I leaned in, my hand brushing against his shoulder in a gesture that was both reassuring and possessive. “It only works if we’re all on the same page,” I said, my tone low and steady.
Priyareached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Harpit, are you sure? I need to know you’re okay. This is... a lot.”
He exhaled deeply, a small, nervous smile playing on his lips. “I think... I want this. For us. For you.”
She smiled, her eyes softening as she leaned down to kiss him tenderly. When she pulled back, she turned to me, her gaze now burning with renewed determination. “Then let’s do this. Together.”
And so, we dove back in, the night unraveling into a symphony of shared desires and newfound boundaries explored
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Priya’s body arched like a feline under my touch, her skin slick with anticipation as I slid my length against her soaked heat, teasing us both with the promise of what was to come. Harpit, who had shifted momentarily to catch his breath, returned to his knees before us with a reverence that was palpable, his trembling hands resting on my thighs.
He hesitated for only a heartbeat before leaning forward, his lips brushing tentatively against the tip of my shaft, slick with the mingled essence of his wife’s arousal. The contact sent a ripple of electricity through the room, a charged moment that defied logic or convention. Slowly, he let his tongue slip out, tracing the ridge with a deliberate, almost worshipful motion, his breath warm against me as he explored this forbidden act.
Priya moaned softly, her hand threading through Harpit’s hair, guiding him closer as he worked his way down my length. “You like that, don’t you?” she murmured, her voice dripping with approval as she glanced over her shoulder at me, her lips parted in a wicked smile.
Harpit didn’t answer, his mouth too occupied as he reached the base of my shaft, his tongue darting lower to caress my balls. His hands, still trembling, moved to grip me, guiding my cock back toward Priya’s entrance. He positioned me with precision, almost as if offering a gift, before I thrust forward, burying myself inside her again.
The sounds she made were primal, her hips rocking back to meet me with every push. Harpit didn’t flinch, didn’t falter. Instead, he leaned closer, his tongue flicking against me each time I withdrew slightly, his lips brushing the point where our bodies met, tasting the blend of our secretions with an eagerness that bordered on devotion.
---
What might have seemed like degradation to an outsider—a scene of utter humiliation—was, to Harpit, a transcendent act of worship. His hands guided me deeper into his wife, his tongue savoring every lingering trace of our connection. His eyes fluttered closed, lost in the moment as if he were communing with something far greater than the sum of our bodies.
“This...” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper as he pulled back for a breath, “this is everything. The way it’s meant to be.”
Priya reached for him, her fingers brushing his jaw as she cupped his face, pulling him up to kiss her deeply. Their tongues met, and she moaned against his mouth, sharing the taste of herself and me in an intimate exchange that left no question about their unity. When their lips parted, she glanced back at me, her eyes blazing with an intensity that made my next thrust even more forceful.
---
The room was a symphony of sounds—her cries of pleasure, the wet, rhythmic slapping of flesh, and the occasional guttural groan from Harpit as he relished his role in this moment. His hands remained steady, guiding me into her each time I drew back, his tongue darting out to tease me, to savor every nuance of the act.
For Harpit, this wasn’t shame; it was purpose. The weight of expectation, the constructs of society, they all melted away in that moment. What remained was pure: his wife’s pleasure, his own surrender, and my dominance over both of them.
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The moment hung heavy in the air, a mix of lust, submission, and something unspoken that thrummed like a low electric current. As Harpit pulled back from Priya's kiss, his gaze shifted to me. There was a question in his eyes, an unspoken plea that was both hesitant and resolute.
I cocked my head, reading the silent request. Was it for her? For me? I decided to let him choose, pulling myself free from Priya with a wet, obscene sound and resting my slick shaft on the curve of her thigh. The move was deliberate, an unspoken invitation for him to do as he pleased.
But it wasn’t Priya he turned to. His lips, trembling but determined, pressed against the side of my shaft, his breath hot against me. I froze for a moment, caught between disbelief and the heady rush of dominance that surged through me. I wasn’t gay—never even entertained the thought—but this? This was something else entirely. This was power.
---
His lips parted further, and then I felt it—wet heat enveloping me as he took me into his mouth. Slowly at first, tentative and unsure, but guided by some innate drive that kept him going. His tongue swirled around my tip, tasting the blend of his wife’s arousal and my essence, savoring it as if it were some forbidden delicacy. My body responded despite myself, a deep groan rumbling from my chest as I pressed a hand against Priya’s back to steady myself.
Priya turned her head to watch, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she reached down, her fingers threading through her husband’s hair. “That’s it,” she murmured, her voice a sultry purr. “Take him. Show him how much you want this.”
Encouraged by her words, Harpit grew bolder. He took more of me into his mouth, his tongue working in tandem with the rhythmic bobbing of his head. It was clumsy, inexperienced, but the raw eagerness with which he worked made up for any lack of skill. Each flick of his tongue, each soft, wet sound, sent a thrill through me that was impossible to ignore.
---
For two minutes, the world narrowed to this—the sensation of his mouth around me, the sight of Priya guiding him, her hand gentle yet commanding. I couldn’t look away, the sheer depravity of the scene rooting me in place. Harpit wasn’t just doing this for her; he was doing it for himself, for the dynamic we had created, for the way it made him feel to surrender so completely.
When he finally pulled back, his lips glistening and his face flushed, he looked up at me with an expression I would never forget. It was a mix of shame, pride, and a deep, almost reverent satisfaction that I hadn’t seen before.
Priya leaned down, kissing him softly as if to reward his bravery, her lips lingering on his for a moment before she turned to me, her gaze burning. “He’s yours now,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but heavy with meaning.
And in that moment, I knew she was right.
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The tension in the room erupted into a crescendo of raw, carnal energy. My hands gripped Priya’s hips like a vice, my fingers digging into her flesh as I bent her further over the bed. She braced herself, her hands clutching the sheets tightly, her knuckles white with the effort of holding steady under my unrelenting rhythm. Her body arched perfectly, her ass high in the air, every curve begging to be claimed.
“You fucking love this, don’t you?” I snarled, slamming into her harder, my hips meeting her with a feral force that echoed through the room. “You love being my little fuck toy, don’t you, Priya? My filthy, cock-hungry slut.”
“Yes!” she cried out, her voice breaking with the force of her moans. “I love it—I’m your slut, your dirty little whore!”
Her words spurred me on, a wicked grin spreading across my face as I brought my hand down sharply on her ass. The loud crack was followed by her yelp, her flesh reddening where my palm met her skin. “That’s right,” I growled, leaning down to let my lips graze her ear. “You’re nothing but a desperate little cum-dump for me to use. Say it.”
“I’m your cum-dump,” she whimpered, her voice trembling but filled with eager submission. “I’m your whore, your filthy fucking bitch.”
“Good girl,” I hissed, nipping at her earlobe before straightening to take in the view of her quivering body. My hands traveled to her waist, holding her firmly as I pulled her back onto me with each punishing thrust. Her moans turned into screams, incoherent and primal, as I pushed her limits, my hips slamming against her ass in a brutal rhythm.
“You like being treated like this?” I taunted, my voice dripping with mockery as I brought my hand down on her ass again, the sound sharp and satisfying. “Like the needy little fuck-doll you are? Taking my cock like you were made for it, like a slut born to be bred.”
“Yes!” she howled, her words muffled by the sheets as her head dipped lower, her body trembling under the assault. “Fuck me, ruin me—I’m yours!”
Her submission only made me hungrier, my hands leaving red marks on her hips as I drove into her harder, faster, her cries blending with the wet, obscene sounds of our connection. I felt her body quiver, her walls tightening around me as she neared her breaking point.
“Beg me,” I demanded, pulling her back roughly, making her feel every inch. “Beg me to fill this needy little pussy. Tell me how much you want to be my used-up little whore.”
“Please!” she sobbed, her voice cracking as her body rocked against me. “Please fill me, use me—I’m your slut, your fuck-doll, your little bitch. Do whatever you want to me—I’ll take it all!”
Her words lit a fire in me, the raw desperation in her tone driving me to give her everything she begged for. I leaned down again, one hand gripping her hair, pulling her head back so I could growl into her ear. “You’re fucking perfect,” I hissed, each word punctuated by a punishing thrust. “The perfect little slut, begging to be wrecked. I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”
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The tension in the room spiraled higher as I gripped Priya’s hips and pressed her forward, making her brace against the bed. Her body arched, presenting herself to me, and I took full advantage, driving into her with forceful, relentless thrusts. The room filled with the sharp sound of skin meeting skin, punctuated by her moans and cries as I spanked her, the sting of my hand on her flesh bringing color to her skin and a wicked smile to her lips.
“Is this what you want, Priya?” I growled, my voice thick with lust as I gripped her tighter. “To be my dirty little slut? To take everything I give you?”
“Yes!” she cried out, her voice raw, trembling. “Fuck me harder—make me yours!”
The power surged through me, driving me to push her limits, to claim her completely. I leaned down, my teeth grazing her ear as I whispered filthy, degrading words that made her shudder and whimper in pleasure. My hand came down again, a sharp slap across her ass, and her body jolted, pushing back against me as though begging for more.
I felt the heat building, the pressure rising, and I knew I was close. My pace grew erratic, my thrusts harder, more desperate. “I’m about to come,” I growled, gripping her hips to pull her tighter against me.
Her voice came back breathless, trembling, “It’s not a safe day.”
Her words gave me pause, but the need burned too hot to stop. My eyes flicked to Harpit, who had been watching from the corner of the room, his face a mix of apprehension and yearning. I beckoned him forward with a tilt of my head. He hesitated for only a moment before crawling toward us on all fours, his body language submissive yet determined.
I leaned back slightly, my cock still throbbing against Priya as I met his gaze. “Take her panties,” I ordered, my voice firm. “Hold them for me.”
He obeyed without question, reaching for the delicate fabric that had been discarded earlier. His hands trembled as he held them open, his fingers brushing against my shaft as I positioned myself over the soft material. With a few strokes, I released, hot spurts spilling into the fabric, soaking it thoroughly as Harpit held it steady, his breath catching with each pulse.
---
When it was over, I collapsed onto the bed, my chest heaving as the aftershocks of pleasure coursed through me. Priya, ever attentive, knelt beside me with a soft cloth, her hands gentle as she cleaned me, her touch soothing after the intensity of what we’d just shared.
As I lay there, catching my breath, I glanced toward Harpit. What I saw sent a fresh wave of heat through me. He had slipped into the panties I had just spoiled, the soaked fabric clinging to him as he knelt on the floor. His hand moved over himself through the material, his eyes fixed on Priya and me with a hunger that was unmistakable.
The sight was both absurd and erotic, a tableau of surrender and desire that cemented his place in this dynamic. He was utterly enraptured, his movements growing more frantic as he pleasured himself, the evidence of my dominance and his wife’s satisfaction pressed against his skin.
Priya glanced at him, her lips curving into a knowing smile before turning back to me, her fingers brushing against my chest. “I think he likes being part of this,” she murmured, her voice low, teasing.
I chuckled, running a hand through my hair as I let the moment wash over me. “I’d say that’s an understatement.”
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