Jackie Hoff

Jackie had seen enough. For weeks her husband Celtic had been liking every big-titted blonde he could find, and in her book that was the same as cheating. She warned him three times. When she caught him the fourth time she gave him a choice—hand her the same freedom or lose her. He folded fast, stuck out his palm, and they shook on it. Celtic thought it was harmless. Jackie already knew exactly whose pictures she wanted to touch. He stepped into the living room after work and froze. His wife was on the couch in nothing but a thin tank top, her heavy tits spilling out while she ran her hands over a younger man’s chest. Jax sat back, legs spread, the bulge in his briefs obvious and massive. Celtic’s mouth went dry. “What the fuck?” Jackie didn’t even look up. “You like random girls on your phone. I like Jax.” She patted the cushion beside her. “Sit the fuck down and watch me like him.” Celtic dropped onto the chair, heart pounding. Jax peeled off his briefs and nine thick inches sprang up, veined and heavy. Jackie wrapped both hands around it, gave the head a slow lick, then took it deep until her lips kissed her knuckles. Celtic’s stomach turned as he watched his blonde wife—his milf—gagging and drooling on that cock like she’d been starving for it. She climbed on next, tits bouncing as Jax hammered up into her. Every slap of skin was louder than the last. He flipped her onto her back, folded her knees to her shoulders, and drilled until the couch shook. He put her on all fours, yanked her hair, and pounded her from behind until she screamed. Celtic sat glued to the seat, unable to look away while the man he could never be used his wife like a toy. When Jax finally pulled out he stroked twice and painted Jackie’s face—thick ropes across her cheeks, her lips, one spurt sliding down her chin. She turned toward her husband with cum dripping off her lashes and smiled. “Help me clean this up, baby.” Celtic leaned in, tongue out, tasting another man’s load while Jackie moaned in satisfaction.