Some men killed to satisfy their hunger.
Others killed to feed their greed.
A few killed in the name of ambition.
Some killed purely for their own amusement.
And some, well... some killed because they caught a hot playboy balls-deep in their wives.
Of course, just as there were those who killed, there were always those who died.
And every now and then, a man died for the sake of a huge, luscious pair of tits attached to an asshole’s wife.
"Don’t do that, bro! Think about your wife’s heart!"
The desperate shout tore through the silent forest, followed instantly by a thunderous gunshot that scattered the birds from the treetops.
The man who had shouted dove behind the thick trunk of an oak, his shoulder slamming hard against the rough bark.
The bullet grazed his ear with a piercing whistle before burying itself in the wood with a dull, hollow thud.
His ear burned like hell.
That man was Kael. A renowned married-woman fucker and a seasoned, devoted MILF addict.
Girlfriends.
Wives.
Daughters.
Mothers.
Mothers-in-law.
Even grandmothers, if they were young enough.
As long as they were hot and stuck with assholes who didn’t deserve their love, they were on his list.
A lifestyle that, unfortunately, rarely promised longevity.
When he went to fuck Mia, the wife of that damn flaccid-dicked brute who had left her dripping wet just to go watch a game with his friends, he never imagined the cuckold would come home early.
It was a cruel world.
One minute, he was helping unloved women forget their abusive husbands with his massive cock. The next, he was suffering the consequences of his actions.
Wasn’t that just a tiny bit unfair?
He’d heard plenty of times that married women smelled of blood and gunpowder, but he never actually thought the day would come when he’d smell them himself.
Still, Kael had no regrets.
Mia was his favorite.
She always swallowed his cum to the very last drop, and afterward, those huge tits of hers made the perfect throne for his cock.
Unfortunately, it was all coming to an end.
"I’d think about her heart if you weren’t fucking her, you fucking asshole!" the cuckold roared, circling the tree where Kael was hiding.
He fired again.
The bark exploded into splinters right next to Kael’s head, sharp shards stinging his cheek and catching in his hair.
"Shit!"
Kael bolted through the dense forest, branches whipping at his face and dead leaves crunching under his shoes.
His heart hammered so hard he could hear it pounding inside his skull, even over the ringing.
There weren’t even any cops nearby. Why the hell did that asshole have to live so far out of town?
"I wasn’t fucking your wife, I was just giving her a massage!" Kael shouted back over his shoulder.
He never saw the thick, gnarled root in his path. His foot caught on it, and his balance vanished in an instant.
He slammed into the damp ground flat on his back, the impact knocking the air from his lungs in a strangled gasp.
"With your dick in her mouth?!" the cuckold screamed, his voice thick with rage and trembling with adrenaline.
Heavy footsteps crashed through the undergrowth, closing in fast.
"Well... a throat massage! Ugh-"
His witty defense was cut short by a deafening boom.
Kael clutched his chest as the bullet tore through him, ripping clean through one of his lungs.
The pain hit a second later, white-hot and spreading through his ribs. Every breath felt like sucking air through a wet straw.
Blood trickled through his fingers, hot, soaking the front of his shirt.
"W-wait, bro... let me say something..." Kael raised his trembling hands, coughing up a thick mouthful of blood.
The shooter paused.
His face was twisted with raw rage, his chest heaving with heavy, ragged breaths. The gun shook in his grip, but the barrel never left Kael.
"Y-your wife... she’s so hot... How could you beat her, then leave that tight, dripping pussy unpounded and go watch football with your friends?"
"Of course she’d look for someone else—who do you think took her to the hospital every time? You dumb fucking cuckold..."
Those words were the last straw.
Somewhere far off, Kael heard police sirens wailing, but he knew his time was up.
At least that son of a bitch would spend the rest of his life in prison for murder, and Mia would be free.
Kael felt the cold barrel of the Glock press hard against his forehead, the icy metal biting into his sweat-soaked skin.
He heard the dry click of the trigger being pulled.
Then, darkness.
’I’m going to paradise, right?’
How could he not go to paradise?
He had lived a life devoted to his own convictions. A life of unwavering loyalty to his beliefs.
Wasn’t that the bare minimum requirement for getting in?
His life had been pure. Not the kind of purity most would expect, of course, but pure all the same.
He always targeted men who were assholes to their wives. He always sought out the women who truly, desperately needed love.
Never, in his entire life, had he fucked the wife of a man he considered decent.
He was a saint who only fucked the wives of sons of bitches. Legitimate, certified, grade-A sons of bitches!
Kael whined mentally, but in the end, what could he do?
He was dead as a doornail.
At any moment, his soul would surely plummet straight into the burning fires of hell.
’At any moment...’ Kael repeated in his mind.
Nothing happened.
After what felt like an eternity drifting through pure nothingness, he finally understood.
’Yeah... death is just pure darkness. No paradise, no hell, no-’
He didn’t get to finish the thought.
The void before him lit up all at once, and right after, an invisible force yanked him forward with breathtaking violence.
’Don’t tell me that-’
If he had eyes, if he were anything more than a consciousness drifting through the abyss, they would have widened to the size of saucers.
’Is it my turn to hit the jackpot?’
’Hell yeah! I knew this life of fucking married women would end in more than just gunpowder and blood!’
***
While Kael celebrated in the void, a woman in a distant world wept bitterly at her beloved stepson’s bedside.
His body was already cold beneath her trembling hands.
The boy hadn’t come from her womb, but she had raised him and loved him as if he were her own flesh and blood.
She was beautiful.
Even with tears streaking her cheeks, she was more beautiful than any woman Kael had ever bedded in his entire life.
A premium MILF, without a single doubt in his soul.
Her elegant silk robes clung to a delicate, narrow waist, one that looked far too fragile to support the sheer, magnificent weight of her tits.
Her hands were clasped together in desperate prayer, pressed firmly against the corpse’s chest.
The position forced her arms inward, squeezing those massive, heavy breasts together from either side and mashing them into one obscene, doughy mound that strained against the silk.
A faint warmth pulsed from her palms into the cold body beneath them, growing weaker with every passing minute.
She was about to give up.
The grief was finally winning out, and she was ready to stop channeling her Qi when the young man’s eyelids fluttered.
She shuddered violently, her sorrow shattering into disbelief and then exploding into overwhelming joy.
The jolt ran straight down through her chest, and the mashed-together breasts trembled hard against her forearms, wobbling long after the shudder itself had passed.
Tears still clung to her long lashes like trembling diamonds, but her lips parted into a quivering, hopeful smile.
"Oh... Kael, my angel, you’ve come back to me! I always knew the gods wouldn’t take the life of someone so pure!"
She pulled her stepson’s face against her tits with desperate, shaking hands, burying him deep into the warm, pillowy valley between them.
The heavy mounds gave way around him with a soft, quivering bounce, bulging up over his cheekbones and spilling past his ears until his head had all but disappeared.
Perfumed softness pressed in from every side, smothering him in plush, milky flesh that smelled of jasmine and warm skin.
Her heart was hammering.
He could feel it through all that softness, thudding against his face, along with the heat of her body seeping through the thin silk.
His hands moved on pure instinct, climbing up the sides of those mountains and gripping tight, fingers digging in greedily.
His fingers sank in effortlessly. There was so much flesh that even his spread hands couldn’t cover a fraction of each breast, the excess swelling up between his knuckles and pushing back against his palms, heavy and hot and impossibly soft.
The woman was so utterly consumed by her joy that she didn’t even register that this particular touch wasn’t exactly innocent.