Her Breeding Bull Billionaire

By: Francis Ashe

(billionaire cuckoldry, impregnation and domination erotica)



***





“Ash,” my husband Jeff called to me over a stack of papers, “I think I found a good one over here. Check it out.”

My glasses slipped down my nose as I got up from behind my pile, stretched my back and crossed the room. “Oh yeah? What’s this one got that the other hundred thousand don’t?”

“Says he’s a ‘successful businessman’ and that he has an alpha type personality, adventurous, experienced bull, entrepreneurial, blah blah blah – the works. And, he included a picture. Not a bad looking dude.” Jeff offered the paper, and as soon as I saw his face and read his words, I knew this guy was the one.

He was just as Jeff described him. Able looking, sharply dressed, hair impeccably styled to look not-styled. Piercing gray-blue eyes and a playful smile that I could tell was something the man in the picture did not normally wear. He looked stern but had an air of kindness to him.

“Let’s meet him. I think this is our guy. Are you sure you want to go through with this?” I asked, still a little unsure that Jeff, who loved to watch me get fucked, was actually serious about wanting to raise someone else’s baby.

“Yeah, I think you’re right Ashleigh.” Jeff stood up and kissed me behind the ear. “And yes. You’re the most important thing in my life, and I like seeing you satisfied, seeing you happy. And, I like... well,” he trailed off for a moment, “I like to watch. I love the faces you make, the sounds that come out of you. There’s nothing in the world I love more than to watch some big-dicked honcho stuff you up and cum all over you. I think it’s time we go to the next step.”





***





He is a good, kind man, Jeff. Works hard, does his best to please me, all that sort of thing. But, not too long after we got married, our life together became very bland in a face-to-face-missionary way. We tried other things; toys, handcuffs, even a threesome, but nothing could have prepared either of us for the utter thrill of a huge cock slamming inside me over and over, ringing me out, and pounding my tight, twenty-something pussy while my husband watched from a chair halfway across the bedroom.

It suited him well. He may be nice and responsible, but he is certainly not enough to sate me. His little cock, his belly that sticks out – I love him, but he’s not what I need. In fact, the first time I ever actually had an orgasm with his dick in me, I was also stuffed with a big, thick vibrating dildo. Our first time with a bull was a revelation. The first guy was a musician that we met at a bar. Anyway, after he was finished ringing me out and gushed his load in my mouth, Jeff begged me to kiss him, and then he wanted to suck the rest of the cum off the guy’s cock, to taste the dick that made his wife cum harder than he had ever managed.

We went on like that, Ashleigh and Jeff Hanson, for a couple of years. Most all our men came from personal ads – the old way to do it, in the backs of dirty magazines. Eventually, that well dried up and we had to start hunting through cuckold message boards. The guys were always friendly, always satisfying, but something was missing. Not just from the sex, but from our lives.

One day while Jeff was off toiling away at his dead-end job and I was at my studio teaching a class of young up-and-coming painters about the finer points of capturing the ecstasy of coitus on canvas, I realized what was missing. I’m almost thirty and these eggs aren’t gonna last forever. Baby?

A baby.

After a long day at work, rolling in to my driveway felt good. The whole baby thing had drifted a little past the fringes of my thoughts into that space where most everything goes when I need a glass of wine and a foot rub. But, as soon as I walked in the door, Jeff was at the door to greet me. “Check your email, honey,” he said, “I made up another ad. Tell me what you think – and... I totally understand if it is just too much for you. Totally understand.”

At first I shrugged it off, thinking the ad was just a little kinkier than usual, and no big deal. He always got more excited than I did. Outwardly, anyway. I got my wine, snatched my laptop and collapsed into my favorite cushioned heaven. His email was the most recent one.

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