It's a sunny day outside, the birds are chirping and the breeze whispers across the house. The phone rings -- a cold intrusion to a crisp fall day.
Hello, I say.
Who is this? The voice is not a native speaker. Perhaps an East Asian.
Who is this? I like to counter offense with offense.
Well, I was checking the phone records and saw a lot of calls to your number. Do I know you?
I don't know if you know me. If you called me a lot then shouldn't you know who I am. And, anyway, who are you?
Mr. Kim
I don't know you I don't think.
It isn't my phone. It's my wife's phone, he says.
Now I think I'm starting to understand, I say.
Do you know Anna Kim?
Anna Kim?
I'm sorry. I don't know who you are. How can I answer your questions?
Anna? he repeats, more intimately.
I do know an Anna. Why do you ask?
She called your number a lot.
I know. What's your worst nightmare?
What?
I said, what's your worst nightmare?
My worst nightmare.
Yes.
How do you mean?
I mean, Mr. Kim, that you've called up a stranger to find out who your wife has been calling. You did this knowing full well that maybe a woman would answer and you would find one of Anna's gossip girl buddies, but you also know that equally plausible a man would answer the phone. So why is it that you're calling. What's your worst nightmare. A facial?
What? He is staggering, like a boxer that just got hit with a couple of jabs, like a pitcher turning to watch the flight of a late-inning home run in midair.
Up the ass?
Sir?
Clearly now that you've found all those calls to a man you must think I am fucking her. What else could you assume?
What?
Why else would you call? You must think she's addicted to my cock, calling so many times a day. You may even think she's here right now—on her knees in front of me, tongue out, waiting for my command: suck, lick, bend over, leave.
No. I don't.
You may assume she's wearing my cum like expensive moisturizer, telling me how great my choad tastes, telling me how tasty it shoots into her mouth from my massive rod. She often tells me my cock is so much bigger than yours.
No. She's right here.
Well, then what?
I just wanted to know who she was calling. I'm her husband.
Well, now you found out. You should be asking her, not me. Be a man and stop snooping around. This is between you and Anna. Look at Anna's face. Yesterday, I asked her if she's ever been covered in a cumshot. She said you never did that. She asked me to coat her with my cream. I held back my orgasm for about an hour. Do you know why?
I have no idea.
So that my jizz would explode all over her and cover her. She was drenched in cum. Look at her face. Imagine it with the cum of the man who is merely a voice on the phone to you. That voice is from the man who owns your wife in bed.
My wife is no slut.
Happy now? Glad you called? Glad to hear the voice of the man attached to the large cock gagging your wife while you’re at work? the man with big thick cock?
I know that she would never.
Really? Funny, because I know all about you, preacher Kim. She said she wanted to be my slave—do anything for me—cause she needs a big cock. Ask her. She'll admit it. She's bored to death by you. Do you understand her? No. Slave. Not girlfriend, not whore—but slave. Ha ha, my fucking slave. Understand?
I don't.
I have photos too. She's bent over modeling her asshole before and after I obliterated it. First it's pink and tight. Then it's brown and gaping. Do you know how to gape Anna's ass, Mr. Kim?
I am a religious man, sir.
Your wife likes it up the ass now. She likes being smacked while sodomized, the little slut. She likes being used in public. She fucked me on the roof of my car, in the bathroom at the mall by your house, in the Dunkin Donuts parking lot. She says she wants to get ass-raped in your parish.
Anna would never do that. She's my wife and you're a liar. Wives cheat, I understand. That's no big deal. My wife's not ugly.
She is ugly. Tell her I said so. With nice clothes and sunglasses she's okay looking. But once she's naked she's an ugly fucking whore. Tell her I said so, Mr. Kim. You know that she has a big hairy pussy. You know that. She has little hairs on her nipples. She has small tits. Too small. And her ass, while it looks nice in jeans, sags -- maybe cuase of her age. She's not young. Anna, to me, only looks good when my cock bursts out of her ass or when she's drenched by a big load of white jizz on her face. Go ahead and tell her that she is just a desperate whore for white cock.
She's been a good wife. How dare you say all of this. You, sir, are rude and disgusting and god will strike you down.
God? My god, Mr. Preacher, your wife had a cock up her ass yesterday. Why defend her? She ate her own shit off my cock after I stuffed her with it. If that's a good wife, you're seriously fucked, preacher -- God or no God. I mean, I'm not married. Maybe I don't know much about wives, but as soon as I met Anna I knew. I know slut when I see slut. First night I met her she came back to my house, got buck naked on the couch and asked me to cum inside her. That's all she said. Your wife, man: "Cum inside!" Ha ha. How's that for a slut? I love it. Hell, tell her to come over now and suck on my cock. I'm getting hard just thinking about the slut.
Please stop. I'm sorry I called. I see I've offended you. I will let you go.
I don't want to go, man. Is she there with you?
What?
I said, is she there with you?
Yes.
Look at her. Look at that face. What do you see?
My wife's face.
No. You see yesterday's cumshot target. Her first load of cum ever. How's that feel, preacher? Want to hang up. Want to forget you called?
No, I want to tell you what a filthy, horrible man you are.
You want to be happy?
Disgusting.
You want Anna to be happy?
Amoral.
I'll tell you what, Preacher. Let's fuck her together. You and me -- mouth, cunt, and ass. I'll show you how to make her submit.
You should be in jail.
I feel bad for you, Preacher. I'm going to help you. I'll share my Mastery over her with you.Plus, she said she'd like you to see how hot she can get. She says you have no idea. She'd like you to be there with her, to hold her while a real cock defiles her anal cavity. Think how proud you'll feel cumming on her face for the first time, realizing that your wife is a whore capable of satisfying all your dreams. Doesn't that sound good?
You're sick. You should be arrested. I'm hanging up.
Try it, Preacher Man. Ask her if anyone has ever called her ugly.
Silence.
Anna’s voice gets on: I’m sorry. Master. I'm sorry for my husband.
Strip, pig
Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir. The pig is naked now.
Kneel down, slave.
The Preacher's voice comes out from the background -- what are you doing, honey? Get up.
Let the Preacher see his pig-wife's ass. Can he see it?
Yes, Master.
Reach back and spread your saggy ass-cheeks so he can see your open asshole and tell him that is a gaped asshole.
Master wants me to tell you that this is my gaped asshole, honey.
Say how the pig's worthless ass got gaped.
Master put his massive cock up my worthless ass.
Silence.
I want all this bitches to be my slut. Fuck them hard in the ass. Sandwich me while I'm fucking and eating their pussy and playing with their tits.
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