Family Disrupted Pt. 02

At the insult, none of the men stopped stroking. They were all too excited by Samantha's tits."

"No, I need my balls drained personally. By a fine bitch, preferably with big fine titties. Just like your wife's. I'm not going to stroke off to empty my balls. And that means, my balls are very full."

As if to demonstrate that he wouldn't be stroking, Carter's cock began to spasm out a loud and smelly jet of hot piss into the trough.

"So when pussy is what I need," he said, "And when there's not a lot of pussy around these parts... for a friend, a former friend really, to come and visit me... a man who is on the outside, where there is endless pussy... for him to come and tell me to lay off the one object of my desire that has gotten my balls so heavy and full?"

I looked down at Carter's cock as it continued to spew piss. His balls were indeed massive and full, like two softballs stuffed with buttercream.

"That does not please me," Carter said, "Not one bit."

"I-I-I'm sorry," I sputtered.

"Now that said," he continued, still pissing, "I must say that I still have a certain respect for that ragamuffin Tyson. Even if he is an imbecile."

"Oh?"

"And to that end, I think I'll be finding another object to transfer my attention to."

Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

"Yes, alas, I don't know the next time another so conveniently busty slut will enter these walls, especially one as busty as your fine wife, but I will have to wait until then. Out of respect for Tyson."

I had won. He was going to lay off Samantha.

"I just want to make clear," he continued, somehow endlessly spewing piss, "That I don't appreciate being orchestrated like a violin by a worthless faggot like you."

And suddenly, Carter's big hand shoved me forwards. I fell into the trough directly under his fat smelly cock, which was still erupting with piss, now all over my face. The combined ejaculate and piss of the men covered me, and as soon as I was able to wipe the sludge off my face, all the men had scattered. I looked down at the window and saw Samantha was gone.

Covered in black men's piss and cum, I still wore a smile as I trudged out and back to Tyson.

"Shit, you look like a whore's face," Tyson said, "But he told you the good news?"

"Yes," I said.

"That's nice. Keep Carter off your girl and he won't strangle her. Sure, the other guys will rough her up a bunch, but at least she'll live through it."

I stopped dead.

"The other guys?"

"Yeah, man, of course. Carter won't go after Samantha no more, so that means his guys will be free to mess with her. I bet they're dying to get their cocks around her. But man, at least it's not Carter Smith. He's the only fatal one in that bunch."

I froze, speechless.

"I just hope that wife of yours has got some good birth control," Tyson said, "'cause the amount of semen they're gonna spill in her, her eggs will be getting fertilized for sure."

We walked out in the parking lot to see Samantha's car pulling away. I breathed relief. At least the day was over. At least she wasn't still there!

I drove Tyson back to his home, and even endured Alexa's laughs at my piss covered clothes as I showered in their guest house. I borrowed some of Carl's old clothes and solemnly returned back to my house to confront Samantha.

"Sweetheart," I said, kissing her hello.

"What's the smell?" she said, sniffing me, "It's almost... masculine? Are you wearing a new cologne?"

"Sort of," I said quickly, "I need to talk to you."

She sat down on our couch.

"I need you to stop going to the prison for volunteering. It's very serious. It has to do with Carter Smith--"

As soon as I said Carter Smith, Samantha started to cry.

"Oh Drew," she said between tears, "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I've been keeping all that from you. But you're right. I shoudn't go back."

I looked at her with my head turned. "What do you mean, keeping what from me?"

Through her sniffles, Samantha told me she wanted to come clean.

"At work," she said, "Carter Smith... he's been someone who gets close to me. I can tell he likes me... I mean, he calls me beautiful, touches my hair when the guards aren't looking, always makes sure none of the other guys mess with me. I thought it was just harmless, you know, to have this hot guy at my work who I thought was really sexy and who flirted with me... but it's just been getting so overwhelming!"

I sat close to her, waiting to see where this went.

"I've just been obsessive," she said, "When I see him out on the prison yard with his shirt off. The way the sun reflects off his chiseled chest, the sweat, that dark skin... And then, gee, it feels so wrong to say this, but his cock! I can't possibly miss that thing, like an eggplant stuffed into his orange jumpsuit! Whenever I see it swinging with his steps, I just have to go touch myself! I've been doing it constantly at work, every single day, I spend half my time curled up on the floor of the woman's room with my hand up my cunt!"

I sat there, watching Samantha blush in embarrassment, waiting for more revelations.

"Once I heard from Tyson that he chokes women while he fucks them... I started choking myself when I masturbate. I've been doing it at least five times a day. I even made you do it! I can't believe it, this one rugged big cock stud and I've been reduced to a compulsively masturbating whore! I even asked Tyson privately, when your head was underwater, whether they thought a man like Tyson would be interested in fucking me. What a slut I've become."

She was crying now, and I realized that this was it. She was guilty about how badly she lusted after Carter and his big black cock. But that was it.

I immediately held the weeping Samantha in my arms. Her tits jiggled with her tears.

"Samantha," I said, finding myself get emotional, "Of course you're masturbating to his big black cock. After all we've gone through, that's only natural."

And then, I found myself opening up to her. I told her everything: about Trish's performance, going to the prison, talking to Trish again, going to see Tyson, our deal, his approaching Carter and then what Carter said to me.

"I was acting like a jealous fool," I said, but Samantha was no longer crying. She was standing above me, arms folded, sternly staring down.

"What did you say you did," she said, anger in her voice, "With my friend Alexa?"

I had, indeed, sucked semen out of Alexa's asshole while she came all over my face.

"Please," I begged my buxom wife, "I can explain--" but she tossed me out of the house and I ended up spending the night in my car.

In the morning, she woke me up with a mug of coffee, her nipples hard in her night shirt as she invited me back inside.

"I still can't believe what you did," she said, "How could you? My best friend? Behind my back?"

"It was only because I was so worried about you," I said.

"Did you--did you enjoy it?"

"Huh?"

"Eating her ass... it's just... we've never done it before."

I seized the opportunity.

"Is that it?" I begged, "Please, Samantha, if that's it then I'll happily eat your ass."

"Okay." She said it so quickly, I was surprised.

Still with her hair in the morning bun, she shed her bottoms, leaving her wearing only her thin night shirt over her bare breasts.

"Start eating," she said, wagging her asshole at me. I didn't have to be told twice. I ate Samantha's asshole with all the passion I could muster. I spit and slobbered all over her hole. I drank from the juices flowing from her her pussy: leaning in further when she orgasmed all down my chin.

"Oh, this does feel so good!" she shouted.

"Yes, Samantha, I'll do anything for you."

"Anything?" she said, stopping her previously gyrating hips. "Will you... will you go get the belt?"

Happily, I ran to get my belt from the bedroom and wrapped it around her neck. As I ate her asshole, I squeezed at the handle of the belt.

"Glugggggggg ah!" she groaned, issuing a waterfall of cum down my face.

"Fuck me!" she shouted, "Carter fuck me with that big black cock of yours!"

I didn't stop eating her ass. I let her scream out the convict's name as I choked her harder. I kept eating and licking and sucking her hole until I found her going limp.

"Samantha?" I said. She didn't respond. I looked up and saw her eyes were closed.

I took the belt off her neck and laid her flat and the floor. "Fuck!" I shouted. But within a minute, she burst back to life.

"That was..." she said, dreamily, her eyes glazing over, "That was SO FUCKING HOT!"

--

After Samantha had recovered, she slid, still bottomless, onto our sticky couch and sipped from her mug of coffee.

"I think," she said, "We need to be real about what's happening here."

"Okay..."

"I obviously have this infatuation," she said, "With that big dick Carter Smith. He's gotten under my skin. I just feel like I won't be satisfied until I do something about it."

She sipped from her mug, watching me squirm in my seat, but not saying anything too quickly.

"I'm only being honest. You felt the need to eat out my friend. I feel the need to get fucked and choked by this man. I feel like, until I do it, we just won't be equal."

I squirmed further, trying to think of what to say.

"Sweetheart, I just think if we waited--"

"I can't wait," she said, "I'm so horny, all day at the job."

"Well, if you leave the job--"

"I can't leave the job. It's the most meaningful thing I've done in ages. What I'm saying is, I don't want to leave the prison. I like feeling like the sexiest woman in the world, all eyes on me, when I show up. I like sitting in the rec room next to Carter, feeling the warmth of his arm around me as I watch his erection growing in his pants. I love this job, sweetheart. You can't take it from me."

I was at a loss for words.

"But because of your meddling," she said, "It seems like I need to do this. I need to reach out to Carter personally, and make this right. And that will mean, in all likelihood, visiting one of the conjugal trailers with him."

"And you two can talk it out. Fix things."

She sternly put her hand on my knee, leaning forward so I could see down her shirt.

"Honey, if I get in that trailer with Carter Smith, he is going to fuck my brains out. I guarantee it."

I gulped but Samantha was sure of herself.

"Besides," Samantha said, "It's just sex. That's what Alexa and Tyson have been saying. You know, he's been begging to let his friends come over to bang her? And she keeps saying that she wants to be only for him! But Tyson apparently insists that fucking is fucking and that's it. Won't that be fun, that you and I will actually be more sexually advanced than those two?"

Samantha giggled.

"I'll always love you," she said, "I think... I just need to get it out of my system. I just need this big dick inside of me, one time, and those hands around my neck, and then I'll be done."

".....okay."

Samantha's eyes lit up.

"I knew you'd understand."

She skipped away like a school girl to the kitchen, where she picked up the phone.

"Hi, I'd like to make a call to an inmate? Carter Smith, please."

She waited.

"Hey there, sweetie... Yes, it's me... Yes, I miss you too... Wait, before you say anything, I wanted to ask you.... Can we go on a date?"

A date? Is what my wife was calling going to a shitty trailer to get violently fucked by a criminal?

"Yeah... I can come over today, if you want... Yeah, I'll wear something special... What did you call him? The faggot? Oh, don't worry about him, he's okay with it... Okay... I'll see you soon... Love you too."

Love you too?

She skipped back over to where I was sitting, giddy as a girl in a candy store.

"I'm so excited to see Carter," she said.

"Did you really say you loved him just now?"

"Oh that was just a slip of the tongue," she said, "I mean, I'm just obsessed with his cock. I love his cock, is what I meant."

Somehow, that wasn't any better.

An hour later, Samantha came down the stairs dressed to impress. She was wearing a slutty evening dress: strapless on the back, low cut in the front, and short enough that you could see a peek of her butt cheeks when she walked. Her cleavage, of course, was massive and impressive, and a necklace adorned with large blue beads lead my eyes directly to the center of her white breasts.

"How do I look?" she asked, doing a spin. My wife had never looked better.

"I can't believe it... I'm going to get fucked by Carter Smith!" The mother of two was screaming in the middle of her living room out of excitement for black dick.

"Yes, sweetie," I said, forlornly, "Please. Just go. I'll be here when you get back."

"Ugh, when he chokes me, I hope I can take it!" she says, "I mean, I've been practicing, so there's no way this fucker actually croaks me, right?"

I gulped. I had forgotten that in Carter's hands, he held the power to turn my wife from a fuckable piece of ass to a lifeless body in a tight dress...

"Be careful," was all I could say.

"Kisses," she said, kissing me on each cheek. "I'll see you when I get back... if I get back!"

--

I was entirely restless. I couldn't just sit at home and wait while my wife was fucked and choked by a convict at the prison.

Even though I knew I shouldn't, I got in my car and raced over the to prison. There, I parked on the side where I knew the conjugal trailers were, and I snuck up to the one that was clearly lit from the inside.

Peeking up, I just could make out a scene through the bottom of the drapes.

It was my Samantha! She was on her knees between his legs, dress rolled down to her waist. Her eyes were big and wide looking up at him, like a deer, with her mouth slightly parted.

He was buck naked, as black as ever. His big rod was hard and pointed threateningly at her lips. She held it playfully in her hand, pressing her massive breasts against the bottom of it. With her other hand, she massaged the left of his heaving full balls.

The scene was angelic, the cock so hard at her face, that I was surprised when she moved. Her little pink tongue appeared out of her lips and planted directly on the tip of his black cock.

"Mmm, get me worked up," Carter said in his booming deep voice, "Because then, I want to fill you up."

"Yes daddy," Samantha said, that sweet voice, the love of my life, about to stuff her lips with Carter's black dick.

She suckled at his cock head like a babe at the teat, her eyes still wide and innocent. He reached forward with his massive black hand and held her breast, tweaking her nipple with his thumb. He got it hard.

Drool began to spill from her lips. My wife wasted no time taking her hands and mashing her breasts against his cock, letting them lubricate with saliva, sliding his wet shaft in and out of her cleavage.

His hand moved from her nipple to her throat. Her eyes went even wider. He pressed.

I watched a jet of liquid shoot out of my wife's pussy. It's like he squeezed it out of her.

Her hips gyrated up and down, fucking her tits with his cock, while he choked her. Her face began to glow red.

"Mmmmmmm" she grunted out, moving faster.

His big black balls pulsed in her hand, covered in saliva.

"I knew the moment I saw you," Carter said, teeth gritted, gnarly smile, my wife's eyes meeting his even though she was too choked to speak, "That you'd be draining my balls. The moment you walked into the prison: this beautiful creature, with all your hopes and dreams and family. Trying to do 'community service.' I knew immediately. I knew immediately that you were nothing than a pair of big jugs and lips for me to shove my cock into."

Something resembling a moan eeked out of my wife's face.

As he pumped his hips into her mouth, I noticed Samantha turning from red to blue. He was voracious, just a fucking machine, big cock pumping hands choking, and I wondered if I needed to scream.

But he let go on his own. The color rushed into Samantha's face: she coughed up chunks of white precum and drool onto his lap. Underneath her hips was a puddle of her own pleasure juices. She had gushed everywhere without even getting a cock inside her.

"Lick my balls," he commanded, and Samantha my loving wife let his hard cock poke her face and dangle in her hair as she kissed every inch of his sweaty black balls.

"Soon, every drop in there will be inside you," he warned, and I watched a droplet of fluid leak out of her pussy.

Samantha stood up, legs wobbling, and positioned herself demurely on the couch. Her legs were crossed, hands on her knees, tits jutting out. The marks on her neck were blood red.

Slowly, Samantha spread her legs, showing her wet dripping pussy to the black convict. He approached her, cock hard and outstretched, but the first contact he made was both hands around her throat.

Violently, he jerked her towards him and onto his cock. Her tits shook everywhere as every inch of his massive black member was slid inside my wife. The way he held her, by the neck, like he was taking out the trash, scarred me. It was clear, by the frenzy by which he fucked her, by the passion by which he thrust into her pussy, that he viewed my dear Samantha as nothing more than a piece of flesh designed to please his cock. He was going to squeeze the life out of her on his conquest to fill her pussy.

Viciously, he slammed Samantha's body down horizontal onto the couch, following her with another deep plunge of his cock, never ending. His deep black balls swung against her bottom as he continued into her.

Samantha's eyes rolled back in absolute pleasure. The trail of liquid leaving her sex could have fed a starving child.

Carter leaned forward and suckled from my wife's dangling breasts; I, jealously, hid a hard-on. The sex Samantha was having was unlike any sex I had ever given her, unlike any sex I could give her. This was a man, a real man, fulfilling his primal purpose on this Earth: plugging the pussies of the most fertile woman in his reach. And I was left at the window, nervously watching, jerking into irrelevance.

Now, Samantha's face turned blue. Carter's big balls slammed over and over again into her behind. I realized, ultimately, how useless I was. My cock was in my hand, little and inflamed. I was stroking to the image of my wife getting obliterated, like a larger than life porno. I realized that even if he were to choke her out entirely, I would not do a thing. I'd be left to watch and stroke and fire my little load until he was done with her, whether her flesh was warm or cold.

Samantha smiled a drooly open mouth grin, eyes rolling back, as she succumbed to the ecstasy of his cock.

Then, it all changed. Carter seemed to adjust his movements. His balls, which before had been swinging with titanium force, now seemed to float in mid air.

Carter let one big thrust into my wife and held: held it tight, impossible to break. I watched as the mechanism of his cock sucked out the cum of his balls, moving like a gulping machine out of his sack and into my wife.

With every rope of jism fired into her, my blue face wife twitched orgasmically. Her nipples could cut diamonds. Carter, sadistically, continued to keep my wife's neck crunched as he filled her up with his load.

"Just like the others," Carter said with a snicker, "Just another rag for my load."

He removed his hand, removed his cock, the semen dripping out like a bad oil change. Samantha's face, frozen in ecstasy, stayed frosty blue.

"What a shame," he said, wiping his cock onto her stomach, "I quite enjoyed our chats in the rec room."

Tears filled my eyes as I watched Carter walk away from Samantha's body.

Then--it all returned. Samantha leaped up. Air rushed into her lungs. She looked completely zen, smiling, full of love for the world.