My Cuckold’s BBC Tale - From Keyhole to Bed

It was past 2 a.m. when I heard the sharp echo of high heels clicking on the tile floor, followed by the gentle closing of the front door. I was in the living room when you called out for me. I replied, and you told me to stay put, that you’d be joining me shortly.
When you entered, you were wearing a short black dress with a plunging neckline. My eyes were immediately drawn to the trail of fluid running down your leg. You caught me staring and, with a smirk, said, "Yes, it’s fresh cum. Stop looking so intently; it’s rude."
You walked over, undid my belt, and pulled down my zipper before taking my cock in your hand. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you reached between your thighs with your other hand and scooped some of the cum dripping out of you to use as lube.
"You want to guess how many men filled me tonight?" you teased. "If you guess correctly, I might let you watch me finish. Otherwise, I’ll lock the door, and you’ll have to listen from outside."
"Three," I answered curtly.
You laughed. "Wrong," you said, stroking me slowly. "Let me tell you all about it."
You began recounting the evening. After leaving work, you attended a friend’s party, planning to stay briefly and come home. There, you met a man—a tall, muscular Black man who immediately caught your attention. He complimented your dress and struck up a conversation. Before long, he offered you a drink, and one drink became two.
As the night went on, the chemistry grew undeniable. He leaned in close, whispered in your ear, and made a bold suggestion: to move the party somewhere more private. You agreed, the thrill of it all too tempting to resist.
"He took me upstairs to a quiet bedroom," you said, your voice low and sultry. "He locked the door behind us, and I could feel his dominance in the air. He wasted no time, pulling me into a kiss while his hands explored my body. He lifted my dress, and I could feel how hard he was through his pants."
Your grip on me tightened as you continued. "He turned me around, bent me over the bed, and slid his massive cock into me. God, it was so thick. I could barely handle it. He pounded me relentlessly, and when he came, he filled me so deep I could feel it dripping out immediately."
You stopped stroking me for a moment, looked me in the eye, and smiled. "And that was just the start. He wasn’t done with me yet. After that, I invited him here. I told him about you and said he’d have an audience if he was up for it."
You kissed the tip of my cock, stood up, and said, "Stay here. I’m going to continue where I left off."
I watched as you left the room and locked the bedroom door behind you. I followed quietly and peered through the keyhole. I saw you straddling him on the bed, his massive BBC buried inside you as your hips moved sensually. His hands gripped your waist tightly as he thrust into you, your moans echoing through the room.
The sight of you riding him, completely lost in pleasure, was too much for me. I stroked myself, desperate for release, but it wasn’t enough. I remembered the spare key, grabbed it, and unlocked the door.
You turned your head, surprised, but didn’t stop. I climbed onto the bed, pushed you forward, and positioned myself. His cock was still inside you when I entered, and you cried out at the feeling of both of us filling you simultaneously.
We moved together, fucking you in perfect rhythm. Your breathing became erratic, and I could feel your body trembling. Your moans grew louder as your walls clenched around us, signaling your climax.
As you came, we both erupted inside you, filling you completely. Exhausted, I pulled out, looked at you with a satisfied grin, and held up three fingers. "Guess I wasn’t wrong after all," I said.
You laughed breathlessly, collapsing onto the bed, completely spent.