Isabella’s Bull Lover

I wrote Isabella’s Bull Lover over a period of six months. I have excuses, lots of them. For one thing, Corrupting The Innocent Bride got in the way and all this time I’ve been working on a sequel to Hotwife Karina: Shared. I warned you, lots of excuses. I’ve actually written a Karina sequel but I’m not happy with it, so I’m starting over.

All this time, Isabella was burning inside me, trying to get out and onto paper (or a computer screen to be accurate). Her husband, Anthony, had a story to tell.

Watch for Isabella’s Bull Lover by the end of July 2019.

Excerpt

I doubt that was information the bartender was supposed to be giving. I paid, plus a tip, and headed toward the door with Jill in tow. “Please, either wait here or in the car. It’s probably not her.”

“No way, I’m not missing this,” Jill said.

I had to shush her several times as I made my way around the first level of the motel, from one patio to the next, stopping at each sliding glass door to listen.

Halfway around the backside of the motel, I stopped at a door that was open about 6 inches and heard the telltale sound of Isabella.

“Oh god… oh god,” Isabella was yelling.

Jill grabbed me from behind, her small breasts pressed against my back, I could hear her sharp breathing.

“Your cock’s so big, feels so good, I’ve never felt this good.”

“Is that your wife?” Jill hissed in my ear. I nodded ‘yes.’

“I gotta see,” and before I could stop her, Jill was using a stick to push the curtain aside enough to be able to see through the crack in the door.

There was no doubt it was Isabella, but the black guy definitely wasn’t Trevor. In addition to being darker, he had a shaved head and was strong, muscles bulged everywhere. He was covered in tattoos, some of them were cruder as if he’d gotten them in prison.

Jill was breathing through her mouth, she looked at me with her eyes wide, and backed away from the door, pulling me with her. “You’ve got to fuck me, if you don’t, I’m going in there.”

She was trying to get my pants off me.

“You a real slut,” we heard from the room. “Trevor told me you like black cock. Let’s see how you do with my meat.”

“I love it, I really do,” my wife said to some guy I’d never met.

“Does your husband know what a whore you are?”

“He only knows about Trevor,” Isabella said. Jill had my cock freed and in her mouth. Hearing my wife confess and feeling Jill’s soft wet mouth at the same time, was already taking me close to orgasm.

“Yeah? How many black guys you been with?” he asked.

“What difference does it make, Kenny?” My wife sounded frantic.

“Get on your hands and knees bitch,” he ordered.

Jill was on her hands and knees in front of me, her cutoffs had disappeared, and she was trying to get me to fuck her so we could both watch at the same time. Her pussy had been waxed and her labia were pink and wet. It would have been so easy.

“I won’t fuck you, Jill,” I whispered to her. She whimpered.

I looked up in time to watch Kenny taking a double handful of my wife’s hair in his hand from behind. Isabella’s eyes rolled up, showing only the white, as his large coal-black cock penetrated her from the rear.

Just as Isabella groaned in appreciation, there was a knock. “What the fuck!” Kenny yelled as he ran naked to the door, his thick cock dripping with my wife’s lubrication.

He flung the door open, prepared to do battle with whoever had interrupted his fun, only to be greeted by a naked Jill. “I want to join you two, I’m really horny and you can have me any way you want me.”