He started thrusting.

Slow at first.

Then faster.

Harder.

Rougher.

Her throat bulged with every stroke.

Drool poured from her lips, pooling on her tits, dripping onto the floor as he used her mouth like a cumrag.

“You were upset,” he hissed between thrusts, “about a photo. A photo from months ago. You thought I fucked Abigail. You ruined our wedding over it. Over nothing.”

His cock rammed into her throat again. She gagged. Choked. Took it anyway.

“But guess what, Angel?” he growled, eyes feral. “You were the one who was wrong. You let my brother touch you. Let him see you. Let him fucking fantasize about my pussy.”...