Wrestling with muscle mommy

Living the dream. I wish I was gay like you, but unfortunately I got this muscle mommy for a wife at home who is just constantly putting me in my place. I don’t know why I fall for it, ya know?

It always starts off with a little playful wrestling on the mat in front of the TV and I think to myself, “This will be the time I can overpower her. I know her techniques. I know how she thinks.” but nope, she’s oiled up, glistening skin stretched tight over polished marble muscles that flex and move a predator stalking prey, and I’m that prey!

Everyday I tell ya, she absolutely kicks my ass. She’s stronger, smarter, more skilled. I never stand a chance. I get wrestled and tossed and flattened and crushed until she gets that erection outta me that she wants.

Penis? C’mon man! Whose side are you on?

Well, once that happens, what else can I do? Sex is sex even if it’s with my bossy, brawny wife. That’s when the real wrestling begins, and I gotta tell ya, if you think the outside of her looks strong, just wait until you’re on the inside. Her clam crushes my cock into a pearl. Ya know those videos of hydraulic pistons squishing things into oblivion? Yeah, it’s that at 100x speed and relentlessly until I’m creaming rope after rope after rope straight to the cervix with the impact of a high power rifle sending bullets into steel shell of a tank.

See, if I were gay enough, I wouldn’t have this, admittedly passionate, heterosexual reaction to her hard-bodied, nude skirmishes. I’d stay soft and safe. “Paw free of the bear trap” so to speak.

But alas, when she combat rolls off of me, sweating and radiating with post-orgasmic heat, I’m left as a discarded husk of man meat, dick twitching and confused, exhausted in a fugue state. I just lay there in my soreness and think about how she’s gonna do this to me again the next day. I’m not not looking forward to it though.


Leave a Comment