No Hermit

"The fuck, princess?" Elmer shouted, using the pet name he'd used around Carrie since she was young.

"You've been holding out on me Uncle," Carrie purred. "I always wondered why you never married. Thought maybe you were a hermit. Thought maybe you were gay. Thought maybe you had a tiny little pee pee." Elmer's brain was on the fence, but he was disrobing, exposing a cock as big as John's .... but with the biggest balls Carrie had ever seen.

"I'm over twice your age, princess," Elmer said doubtfully. Carrie scoffed.

"My last boyfriend was 50, and he was my favorite. I prefer old men now, thanks to my ex before him. Sad little cuckold." Elmer's ears perked.

"Then you'll understand. I'm not a hermit, not a gay guy, definitely no micropenis. I'm a Bull. And maybe this is fate." He slowly started feeding his cock into her, making her his, making her eyes roll back. She looked at the picture of Elmer and his best friend, thinking. If Elmer was a Bull, a cuck may be handy ... but not you. Someone else.