Hung like a mule you say

Hung like a mule you say

Copyright© Catcher78, all rights reserved.

Author's Notes: This story belongs to me and is subject to all applicable copyright laws, as per this site and my own. This is a Romance of sorts, with some quirks. All resemblance to real-life people is strictly coincidental. Edited by Challenger69 as always with lots of help thanks to him.

I fell for my husband, A. C. Cleveland, when I was a sophomore at the University of Washington. He had been traded to the Seahawks and was an offensive tackle. I was a cheerleader, and my name is Aiysha Jefferson. Yes, that Jefferson. At the age of nineteen, I was five feet ten with a bubble butt that caused men and women to stare longingly at me.

Mama took me to this lady in our church when my girls moved in. She was a seamstress, and since then, I always had her make bras for me, and she did swimwear too. As a twenty-nine-year-old, I had J-cup titties. All big and natural, literally fifteen inches from my chest to my boobs bottom, thick nipples, like railroad spikes. Mrs. McWashington was in her fifties and had nine kids, boys and girls. She learned from her mama about making bras.

My mama Nia sang in the choir at First African American Episcopal Church in Seattle on Fourteenth Avenue. I went to Garfield High School, which was on Twenty Fourth Avenue, and growing up, we lived with my mama's parents mostly. Their home was on East Alder Street; my birth father was a professional musician who played in the jazz scene in Seattle when Mama was in high school. He was a trumpet player; he was shot in a club in New Haven, Connecticut, and died when I was ten. I never saw him; I mean met him. Sigh.

I have three half-siblings, all younger sisters. My mama married one of the ministers at the Church during my freshman year. He fucked my younger sister Jada after I was married to A. C. Mama weighs a lot and is on this C-Pap machine due to being overweight and asthma. As soon as she's out, he slides into Jada's room. She's had two abortions already. I finally got her to go to Planned Parenthood and got her the implant. She tells me she's in love. Sigh.

We live in Renton Highlands, just above where the Seahawks' training facility is. We have a lovely home and actually live next door to my best friend, Andi Nordgren-Gonzales. She was a cheerleader with the Huskies and was a year ahead of me in school.

She married Pablo Gonzales after she went to work for Google in the Fremont area of Seattle. Pablo is from Barcelona and speaks with a lisp (all people from Spain do), and they have eight children. A. C. always makes jokes to me about Pablo being a faggot with his lisp and speculating that somebody else was the father. A. C. was not particularly big, actually a little shy of six inches, kind of thick. He was incredible with his tongue, two of his fingers were longer and fatter than his dick, and I came all over both of those.

It's just that Pablo was making babies, and judging from the noise coming from their poolside during training camp when A. C. was gone all day with Andi shrieking, I was dying. Every pre-season was like this. One baby came, then it was twins, and they were all such beautiful kids that Andi nursed them, and with each kid, her breasts kept on growing. Think Christine Hendricks big, on a tall, thin blonde, EE-Cup.

We have been trying to have kids with no results, as I am twenty-nine. I was beside myself with anxiety, and not being able to have kids. I sucked A. C. off for about two weeks, accumulating his semen in the freezer, and gave it to my OBGYN, who was another sorority sister as well, and checked for our fertility.

A. C. did not have a low sperm count; he had no sperm count, which meant that if his testicles functioned, he had a vasectomy. He attended Grambling University in Louisiana and grew up in New Orleans. My OBGYN reached out to Grambling for medical records to see if A. C. had "titers" for sickle cell anemia, for our children.

He had ruptured one of his testicles as a freshman and, as a senior, had a vasectomy and did not have titers for sickle cell anemia.

As the wife of a professional athlete, you always fear that some hard body with fake tits would fuck your husband away from you. There are fucking television shows about it. Andi thought A. C. was a player and had said that every so often, he had inadvertently touched her before. I always put it off before, but now I put more credence in the reality of it being possible.

She said Pablo knew this attorney, Fred Feinberg, who could help me. I didn't know much about our financials, and when she said that, I started blubbering, "I'm such a fool, I don't know anything about our money."

Andi said, "I love you like a sister, and we'll help you. Our net worth is over two hundred million dollars. I'll set it up, look on his computer and in his desk, there's got to be statements somewhere. What do you think about an investigator to track down if he's a player? That's easy enough for me to set up with Pablo's help."

I said, "Okay."

"Come over and we'll lie in the sun, our maid Hippolyta took the kids to Bellevue to the mall, I'll be by the pool, wear your red bikini from last year's Halloween party."

"Okay," I said, trying to think where the bikini was. My costume was of a she-devil. The top was two square pieces of a silk fabric, two inches by two inches that barely covered my nipples, with strings that tied behind my neck and back. The bottom piece was a thong with a red patch of cloth that hardly covered my cunt. I had an inverted pyramid of hair on my mound that, when I danced, inadvertently slipped out.

Nobody complained that the cloth was sopping wet, and it wasn't an issue either.

Dancing in red open-toed pumps with six-inch stripper heels completed the costume. At the end of the night I was tipsy and I was dancing with Pablo and Andi both, kind of like a sandwich with Andi in my face, our titties mashed together, she grabbed my ass pulling my crotch against hers and her leg insinuated itself between my thighs and she kissed me, her tongue was in my mouth and Pablo was behind me when Andi came. I mean, she had an orgasm, I was so fucking close, and I held her to me. Then I looked around to see if anyone was watching.

Nobody was, but I freaked. This was a Saturday, and A. C. was in Boston; they were playing Sunday night football against the Patriots, but I ran home. I masturbated with an English cucumber wrapped in wax that was curved and sixteen inches long. I came over and over again, imagining they were both fucking me.

The week after any NFL game finds the players, physically depleted, bruised, and battered, walking in boots. Sometimes A. C. would fly up to Canada on a team plane to get some weird blood infusion, which accelerated his healing. Broken fingers, hands, toes, torn oblique muscles. He moaned in his sleep in pain. Usually by Wednesday, he was better.

That Wednesday after the Halloween party, I fucked his brains out on top of him while he played with my girls. After he nutted, I sat on his face, sucked him hard again, and fucked him again. We did that three times, I was thinking of Andi and Pablo the whole time, and I came hard on his small dick, for maybe the second time in our marriage.

I found the bikini and wore it over to Andi's with some flip-flops, with a two-inch wedge heel. I walked through the house, I knew the security code of course, and found her lying on a huge towel, and there was another right next to it.

She said, "Hi baby," sitting up and patting the adjacent towel, "lie down on your back and I'll put some sunscreen on for you."

Dutifully, I did. She started with my feet, her fingers weaving between my toes, her thumbs on the sole of my foot between my heel and the ball, causing me to groan in rapture, "God, that feels wonderful, Andi, thank you!"

She murmured, "Mmm hmm."

Then it was the other foot and my calves, then deeply kneading my very soft, fat black thighs. The contrast of her long, thin white fingers deeply within my flesh made my tummy start to flutter, actually it was just below my belly button, on towards my cunny, and I groaned again, more of a growl that wasn't a word really. Then she moved so that she was on her knees above me. She pulled my head up and scooched closer and laid the back of my head on her thighs, she untied the bikini strings and put more lotion on her hands and with her fingertips pushed in gently just below my collarbone, touching these tendons, which hurt, and I yelped.

Andi said, "These poor tendons. You have tendonitis. They work so hard to keep your girls up as you walk about, Miss 'Jiggle-Queen'."

I giggled when she said that as she put more lotion on the palms of both of her hands, and she wasted no time, she began to mash my titties. Black titty flesh seeped through her fingers. She was tender and rough, pulling on my nipples, rolling them until my first orgasm with Andi ripped through me. Every time she touched either of my nipples or both, it was like there was an electric current to my cunt, and she would not stop.

"Oh sweet Jesus Andi, oh honey..."

I thrashed about cumming over and over again, then she stopped and said, "On your tummy, baby."

I moaned as I rolled over. She started on my neck with her fingers, nibbled on my ear lobe and whispered, "I love you Aiysha, since the first time I saw you, no other women, Pablo knows too, it's alright, when you're done with this cheating dick, Pablo will give you all the babies you will ever want, and by the way, you will love Pablo's nine inches."

With that, she started banging me with her fingers, while she stuck her tongue in my ear, and I squirted all over her hand. She was unrelenting. For someone who didn't love another woman, she knew where to touch and when and how long. Her Spanish cook, Juanita, walked out onto the pool deck with a pitcher of lemonade and a bottle of cava, which is a sparkling wine, and set it in the shade. In heavily accented English, she said, "Miss Andi, might I help?"

Andi said, "Si, Juanita, help to turn her over."

They rolled me over onto my back again, and with little ceremony, Andi squatted over my head and lowered her sopping wet pussy onto my face rimmed with wet silky blond fuzz that was so utterly womanly. Instinctively, I reached up to squeeze her beautiful breasts as she started to grind on me, just as my pussy was stretched wide, and it hurt and stung.

I heard Andi say, "Slow down, baby, you're way bigger than anything that's been there before."

I was freaking out; somehow Pablo had snuck in, but then I heard Juanita say, "Yes, miss."

Inexorably, this massive dick, a dildo in one of those harnesses I presumed, was going deeper and deeper, lubricated by my, oh so wet cunt. I felt her thighs against my bottom, and then she pulled out and pushed back in forcefully, over and over again. Our flesh colliding, the flesh on flesh smacking sound, and the mother of all orgasms arose from my belly as my legs wrapped around her ass, pulling that incredible dick into my body, and then she shrieked, "I'm cumming."

I felt my cunt suddenly full of hot, warm cum. She kept on cumming, which made my orgasm extend, and Andi screamed, "I love you, baby," and my face was flooded with her cunt cum, while her thighs seemed to be crushing my skull.

Juanita's massive cock was still fucking me harder and harder again, and it sounded like a washing machine as my cunt gripped her tool and spasmed, and I started to cum once more.

I thought how ironic, a cheating wife impregnated by a transwoman. Maybe I could be on that television show NFL Wives and Girlfriends with my shemale husband, or would she be my wife? I could become a content creator for OnlyFans or Fansly, both, perhaps, maybe I'd become a millionaire. She kept on fucking me, and I came constantly. Andy was kissing me now and playing with my tits.

Once more, Juanita ejaculated into my cunt, which triggered another huge orgasm, and I lay there whimpering. Juanita left my cunt, which felt like the tunnel underneath Seattle, now which was eight lanes wide. My legs splayed wide for another assault, her jizzm leaked out of my cunt and dribbled down onto my ass. I thought that our children would at least be attractive, and it was legal in Seattle for us to marry.

I had never considered such a thing. I was pro pride, it just would take some time to get my head around it. My mama and her church ladies would shun me. Andi was now beside me as tears ran down my face.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"I'm ovulating and I'm most certainly pregnant by a trans-woman."

Quietly, she rubbed my tummy and she said, "Juanita has had a vasectomy and she's Pablo's birth brother. You're okay, did you enjoy her?"

I said, "To begin with, you sitting on my face was beyond incredible. I think I'm submissive, and I love you, Andi. Please don't hurt me. If you tire of me, don't embarrass me, just tell me, and I'll go. Secondly, her dick is so big and she really knows how to fuck, and her balls must be enormous as I'm leaking what feels like cups of her semen. Yes, it was incredible."

"Andi, does she fuck you, too?"

"Yes."

"Does Pablo know?"

"Pablo fucked several women on his team at Google during my first and second pregnancy, so this is my revenge fuck. I have a post-nuptial agreement with him that states if he cheats on me again, I get everything. There is nothing in place from a prenuptial or from that postnuptial that precludes me fucking other people."

I said, "So if Pablo fucks me, giving me all the babies I'd ever want, you get all his money and I get a broke man, who doesn't want me, necessarily. Do I have that right?"

I went on, "So you're lying to me too, like everyone else, and using me. Are you fucking A. C. too?"

I stood up, walked away, and returned home. I was lost in my head. There was a CVS pharmacy a mile away. I drove my new Ford Bronco out of my garage and went to the pharmacy. I did not want to chance that Andi had lied about Juanita's vasectomy. I got an over-the-counter morning-after pill. The pharmacist explained to me that if I've ovulated, the pill won't work, but if I have not, it would. So it was a crapshoot.

I took it with some water, went home, and made myself a toasted tuna melt sandwich with some pickles and some milk.

I showered and cleaned up. I had some Chanel douche and cleaned out my cheating cunt.

I called Fred Feinberg and asked him if Pablo had talked to him and whether he had engaged an investigator to check on A. C. He was quiet, so I asked again and added, "Will you represent me, as I wish to divorce my husband?"

He said, "I need a check from you for ten thousand dollars."

I said, "I can be at your office in thirty minutes with the check."

I made it in twenty-three minutes. His secretary admitted me to his office. I gave him the check, and his assistant ran it through a device; the money was verified, and I signed some papers.

I asked him about the investigator, whom Pablo had asked Fred to instigate, but since Pablo had no standing and I did, he gave me the information to his point:

1. A. C. was cheating on me and had been for years. Other players' wives, as well as Andi, since we moved in next to them.

2. Andi was a "hot wife," and Pablo was a willing cuckold.

3. There was no pre- nor post-nuptial agreement in place.

4. A. C. was going to divorce me.

I asked if Pablo had a transwoman named Juanita who was his biological brother, and was told that was not true.

I told him about what happened earlier today and asked if I had any recourse. He asked if Pablo had a security system, and I indicated that everyone in the cul-de-sac had the same service.

"I want to divorce A. C. I want the house, I want Pablo and Andi named, and I want the police to know that I was raped by the transwoman at Andi's instigation. I also wanted a restraining order, and I needed to get a test done for STDs.

Life went on.

I was pregnant with twins. Andi and the unknown transwoman were charged with rape. There was a video of the event, and of Andi planning it beforehand. She was convicted, as was the transwoman in absentia.

A. C. and I were divorced. Andi and Pablo also got divorced.

I married Pablo after a year's courtship. I DID have twin girls, Isabella and Mariana.

They looked just like Pablo.

My mama had the girls overnight after the wedding. As I lay in post coital stupor and the video played of Juanita fucking me while Andi sat on my face, Pablo said, "The stockings in the bra were a brilliant idea, and I think my red-haired wig looks real, right?"

I said, "How many kids do you want, honey?"

End hung like a mule, you say.