The air in our bedroom was thick with the scent of her arousal and another man's cologne. I was on my knees, locked in chastity, as instructed. My wife, Lena, was sprawled across our bed, her thick thighs spread wide, glistening with the spit of the man currently burying his face between them.

"Read it to him, baby," the Bull, Marcus, grunted, his voice muffled by her pussy. He pulled back, his dark, thick fingers spreading her slick lips apart. "Let your cuck hear what he's missing."

Lena gasped, her eyes glazed with lust as she looked down at my pathetic form. She held up her phone, the screen glowing with a caption she'd drafted earlier. Her voice, usually so sweet, was husky with need.

*"My cuck's tiny dicklet couldn't make me cum like this. Only a real Alpha's thick BBC pounding my married pussy gets these screams."*

The words were a physical blow. My cage strained uselessly. Marcus laughed, a deep, rumbling sound, and went back to eating her out with loud, sloppy strokes of his tongue. The wet sounds of him working her clit filled the room.

"Another one, slut," Marcus commanded, sliding two fingers deep inside her. Lena moaned, her back arching.

*"Watching my wife get her tight ass stretched by a bigger, better man. This is my purpose. To clean up their mess."*

Marcus withdrew his glistening fingers and shoved them toward my face. "Open up, cucky. Time for a preview of your dinner." The taste