We’ve all been there. You’re bored working from home. You challenge your husband to put on some luchador masks and wrestle. He says he’s busy, so you sweeten the deal—winner gets to use the loser, any way he wants. That gets his attention. You thought you had him this time, as much as you’ve been hitting the gym, but turns out he’s been lifting more too, and soon you find yourself pinned down by his furry, muscular arms. Now stripped of your mask, you submit, you even call him “sir,” but he’s not satisfied. He scoops you up, pressing you against his thick chest. He carries you down the hall and slams you onto the bed. This is getting serious, you think to yourself, just as you feel his biceps wrap around your neck and everything starts to get fuzzy. Now he’s behind you, still makes and in total heel mode, holding you just on the edge of consciousness while he whispers in your ear. “You’re going to wake up to my big dick in your mouth, and then you’re going to get my load on your face, like a fucking jobber bitch.” You’re not sure if it’s the tightening sleeper or the trash talk, but now you’re rock hard and your punishment is starting to look like a reward….
