He Owns My Wife Read Online Free

rhythm, almost like a ballet dancer’s arm. Far too delicate to be associated with what she’s actually doing.
    Mick moves my wife’s hair away from the side of her face then presses his head close in and mumbles something into her ear. Then there’s a scraping sound as moves his leg to drag Lisa’s discarded dress across the rubble-strewn ground with one of his boots.
    Mesmerized, I watch my naked young wife slide unsteadily down to the floor until her knees rest on her dress at the feet of this 50 year old man.
    Using his thumbs Mick yanks his white underpants down further in my wife’s face. His bloated and angry-looking purple and dark pink cock recoils and vaults upwards like a veined forearm with a tightly clenched purple fist as its head.
    Lisa waits patiently on her knees, looking upwards, her bare ass cheeks so pale on the back of her black heels beneath her.
    I notice one of her shoulders moving to a slow rhythm and realise in amazement that again she must be touching herself.
    My stomach has tightened at the thought of her anticipating a cock that looks twice the length and several sizes thicker than the only other one that’s ever been near her in the flesh.
    She moves the position of her head and I get a view of Mick’s huge hairy balls which look so swollen with need for my wife.
    To my shame and confused frustration after all those times masturbating or having sex with Lisa at the thought of her with men like Mick, now it’s happening, my cock hangs limply down in front of me. Its over-excitement, my head whirling out of control with so many other emotions inside me cascading around and crashing off each other. It feels impossible to focus. I curse myself for my over-thinking instead of being a man of action like this giant in front of my wife.
    Around six feet from me on the other side of these bins my wife continues to wait on her knees on the floor at the sight towering above her blonde head. She lets out a little whimper as Mick’s thick fingers form a plump claw and again grab a fistful of her hair. He roughly, and in the circumstances I think needlessly, tugs Lisa’s head to his groin.
    I watch crouching and motionless, barely able to think let alone pleasure myself – even if my cock wasn’t betraying me.
    The back of Lisa’s head surges forward like a rag doll’s towards Mick’s cock and balls and her boss lets out a loud and harsh roar almost as if clearing his throat.
    I watch her thick mane of hair slowly bob up and down between Mick’s powerful legs as she sucks his monstrous erection. His eyes are closed now and his half open mouth gasps desperately but rhythmically as if running the final part of an uphill marathon.
    After a moment he abruptly opens his eyes almost like he remembers something. He grabs her head with both hands and for a second the light from the fire exit sign catches his gold watch half-buried in my wife’s dishevelled hair. Then, with his tongue stiffly poking out of the corner of one side of his unshaven mouth he begins to rapidly and roughly fuck Lisa’s face. Pumping his hips, he stabs his swollen erection back and forth between lips that have kissed and spoken softly to me so often. He’s plunging himself so deeply into Lisa’s mouth that it’s as if trying to force his whole cock and balls down her throat.
    Suddenly I hear my wife gag then splutter. Mick pauses for a moment as Lisa’s head limply rock backs.
    “Are you alright?” he asks.
    My wife coughs once or twice then nods her head. “You must have sucked a cock before Lisa“ he tells my panting wife, her chest rapidly rising and falling. He leans forward a little and his thick fingers stroke the side of her head. “You’re gonna need to do better than that”.
    My wife looks up at him: “I’m sorry Mick. It’s just so big”. She shifts position on her knees then takes his still fully erect giant cock into one of her little hands.
    Mick looks down at her and she lifts his cock above her