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Tilly and her Bull

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None of this ever happened. All characters are over 18. Think of it as a grimm fairytale.

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Tilly has a bull. Her bull has Tilly. Tim pays and watches.

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My cock is still sticky and semi-hard from Tilly’s tight little cunt. So this is a good time to write, while I feel and smell my muse.

It’s been a rewarding three decades, since she and Tim moved next door. I was in my late thirties, and they were both eighteen, newlywed and virgin. After they settled in and we became acquainted, and had taken each other’s measures, they approached me with a request. I said yes, and have helped them ever since, usually once or twice a day.

The little wife tried to tell me “No”, but I soon put a stop to that. The wife has, now, long since learned her place, knows her leches, and follows my reminders, corrections and rewards. Like tonight, when I brought Tilly’s scent home. Let’s just say, my cock is not only sticky from Tilly.

Tilly, Tim and I joke they have “special needs”. Special, but not unusual. There’re a lot of Tims and Tillys in the world. Perhaps you’ve had your own experience of the triangular bed, or wish you had. You may know which of the three sides you lust for, which gets you hottest.

It’s not that Tim is physically incapable. After all, I’ve seen him get it up, and keep it up, well fisted and edged, for two hours, while he watches. Have you ever seen a cuckold spurt a pint three metres after his balls have been kept blue for a fortnight? Tilly and I have. Often. It’s fun to watch, and he hates that he can’t help himself, and always asks for more.

So it’s not that he can’t get it up, but rather, he and Tilly have primitive needs. And their needs serve my appetite.

You see, Tilly needs a big dominant man, Tim needs her to have a big man, Tim is not that man, Tilly needs Tim to give her what she needs, including being regularly fucked by a big man. So he escort bursa pays for a bull cock to service her daily. It’s the least he can do for her.

You see, I am that bull. Every day, often twice, she gets a load of my man meat. At my convenience.

He’s very appreciative, an excellent provider, keeps her comfortable and cared for, and raises our kids.

I have my own key and don’t follow a schedule, and can be up—and up her—at all hours. I might pop over at midday between meetings, or in the middle of their dinner, or when she’s showering, or entertaining girl-friends, in which case they can participate, or after she and Tim are in bed, in which case I slide in and fuck her beside him, while he jacks and watches.

She’s totally loyal to me, and he has never come in her. She’s all mine.

Last night, I was awake until four in the morning, dealing with issues in Canada, until the Vancouver office took over. Then I needed to unwind. So I padded across our adjoining gardens and upstairs to the bedroom. I dropped my clothes on the bedroom chair, on top of Tim’s, and slid in beside Tilly.

I started in missionary, then flipped her over with her arse in the air, and finished as she bit the pillow. All the while, I watched Tim looking up at me, jacking fast as I took Tilly over her jumps. He really does get his rocks off watching me take her.

It might seem weird, but it’s not. It’s who we are.

When I came home for breakfast with the wife and kids, Tilly’s bed was sticky with three sets of juices, and Tim was running the sheets through the laundry.

Tonight, I went over after dinner. My kids were glued to TV, and barely looked up when I left. They’ve never known different, and assume all Daddies fuck the lady next door, like I fuck Miss Tilly.

I walked in, poured a glass of wine from the fridge, then went to find her. Sometimes she’s watching TV, or chatting to Tim, or undressing for bed. Tonight, she was standing at the kitchen görükle escort counter, staring through the window, at her bull’s house.

I walked up behind her, put my wine down, grasped a slim handful of hip firmly with one hand, and reached the other under her loose top to a tiny familiar breast bud. I always get a charge from how small she is. At my touch, she placed her hands palm down on the bench, rose to tippy-toe on her short legs, dipped her narrow waist down, thrust her small arse up, and spread wide to accept my familiar bulk.

My cock nestled into her cunt, and I thrust casually into the root.

She grunted as I slid slowly inside. I have a thick cock, perhaps fifteen centimetres around, but she’s not loose even after decades of me fucking her, because regular orgasms keep cunt muscles toned. We both like it thick and tight, and she knows to clench her muscles. Sometimes, her cunt feels as tight as when I took her virginity.

By the time I bottomed out, her mouth was wide open, and her lips were dry. She moistened them with her tongue, and it stayed hanging out as I begin to long stroke her. The longer and deeper I thrust, the more taught, rigid and protruding her tongue became. I love how that happens.

Bent forward across the kitchen counter, her little body juddering and moaning, her head pulled back by a handful of gripped hair, we watched our reflection in the glass as I mounted her. A lovely sight.

Her little mouth made a perfect wide open ‘O’, the tongue straight out, almost touching the glass.

As I shafted her, I watched her hot breath make the window glass fog.

I always enjoy watching that round patch of moisture. The misty circle expands and contracts, in sync with my cock thrusts and her grunts. It’s a wet cunt, pulsing rhythmically, getting gradually wider and wider, and wetter and wetter.

Eventually, it’s so wet, droplets run down the glass, as her juices run down my cock.

When she’s about to come, and depending on my lech of the moment, I might stick a finger deep in her arse, or push her head down hard, or pull it up even harder, or spank her delicate morsel of a rump, or squeeze a swollen nipple, or fish-hook her. Tonight, I chose to double fish-hook her, as I fucked her in her brightly lit kitchen, and she looked across the lawn to my house. The wife or kids might be watching, and I like showing her off.

Climbing to orgasm, inarticulate moans of “Daddy…Daddy…” came faster and louder through the wide open mouth. Her open lips were dry because she couldn’t lick them. She likes restraint.

Resting my belly on the small of her back, to keep her positioned, with my shaft deep inside, I casually switched my grip, clamping her head firmly between my palms, and hooking the middle and ring fingers of each hand inside her wet mouth, into her cheeks. I pulled back savagely.

There is no escaping this hold, and it keeps the mount controlled, open and paying attention.

It also triggers orgasms, and as her cheeks took the tension, the first come hit her. Her body went rigid and her pussy clamped tight on my cock, and squeezed it rhythmically as it’s bred and trained to do. I swelled and pulsed and filled her.

Then, keeping my shaft rigid and the cock-head pressed to her cervix, and one fishhook in place, I used my other hand to tweak a nipple. This elicits final orgasmic cock-squeezing spasms from her cunt, which milk the last drops from my balls.

When my bollocks were comfortably empty, and I finished my wine, I pulled out. He had come to the kitchen door, to watch and jack off. He was still bent forward, rigid, spasming, and squeezing out the last drops as I passed. He cleaned up the kitchen, then followed me to the living room. I was watching a few minutes of a football game. We didn’t see her stagger to bed.

Ten minutes later, I grunted, “See you later,” and he nodded, “Yes, sir.”

Tilly needs her daily big Daddy bull cocking, Tim needs her to have it. I love slipping my truncheon into her.

When I got home, wifey was hot, pissed and bothered, but soon stopped complaining.

I’ve told her to never speak with her mouth full.

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