My husband offered me to a burly biker, and he took me with a raw, animalistic hunger that left me screaming and writhing in ecstasy. Each thrust was a claim, a savage display of dominance that had me cumming harder than I ever thought possible. There's a thrill in the knowing glance my husband gives me when we're out dining, and he spots a hulking biker across the room. With a nod, he seals my fate, offering me up for a few hours of relentless, hardcore fucking that will stretch all three of my willing holes. The fear mingles with excitement, coursing through my veins as I submit to his will, to the biker's command. The biker's hands are rough, his grip is bruising, and his cock is a merciless invader that pillages my body. I'm a plaything, a vessel for his pleasure, used and filled beyond my limits. My screams echo, a testament to the intense mix of pleasure and humiliation that courses through me with each pump. I'm left quivering, my body a battleground of lust, marked by the raw, primal sex that my husband so willingly shared me for.