... Then Get Into the Kitchen

Chris carefully dipped the strawberries into the hot chocolate, one by one. Then he placed them onto a plate beside a bottle of red wine and two glasses, and placed everything onto a tray, which he took upstairs to the master bedroom.

Being cuckolded was harder than he'd expected. Not physically -- he was getting more attention and getting off more than he had in his entire life. It was the mental side of it -- the highs of a moment of her attention, the lows of knowing her absolute preference for other men, and the angst of the friction between those highs and lows.

Not to mention how overwhelming it was from a sensory perspective. Take this moment -- he was immediately greeted with the sight of his gorgeous Goddess, slowly riding up and down the long, fat Black cock of Donovan. He heard her groans and moans and sighs of pleasure, contrasted by Donovan's deep guttural pleasure as her silken pussy massaged his cock, milking it to its ultimate reward. He smelled the mix of her fragrant perfume and Donovan's musky cologne, all of it mixed with the smell of decadent sex that they were exuding. And how it all effected him, his white cock stiffening up.

Elizabeth looked down at the decent-sized white pole between his thighs as she slowly rode Donovan, appreciating every inch of his thick Black meat. She smirked.

"Good boy, getting those berries for us. Why don't you go relax for a bit in the guest room. You know what to get off to."