Dr. Strange's Lesson

Summary: In Dr. Strange Multiverse of Madness, Stephen is forced to watch his ex, Christine Palmer, marry another man. In an infinite number of universes, Stephen never ends up with Christine. And in one of those universes, Stephen decides to see what is so good about her husband, about this Charlie, only for his ego to be bruised. Badly. 

Themes: Blowjob, Cucking-vibes, BBC, Cowgirl, Doggy-style (Patreon), Creampie (Patreon)

A/N: Time to flip the script. Hope you enjoy! As always, the full part is on Patreon and this time includes gifs!

**********

Dr. Stephen Strange: perhaps the most prodigious, most talented Sorcerer Supreme to ever live.

"The best surgeon and the best superhero. But…"

Stephen thought losing his hands was the worst day of his life.

It wasn't.

"...you still didn't get the girl."

Somehow, the churning of his stomach as he watched Christine Palmer, his ex, walk through the aisle into the arms of another man was worse. In a white wedding dress, carrying flowers, walking through that aisle with the smile Stephen wished was toward him.

But it wasn't. 

It was for some random nobody by the name of Charlie. During the seven years he was gone, during the Snap, this dude came in and swept Christine up into his arms. 

To be able to take the love of his life from him, the guy must have been super handsome and rich, right? Not exactly. From what Stephen saw, this Charlie was a nerd. From what he heard, Christine was the breadwinner. The one that approached. The one that got on one knee and proposed.

That's right—it was Christine Palmer, his ex whom he expected to return to after the Snap, that chased Charlie, not the other way around. Gender roles be damned, she wanted this dude.

Stephen Strange clenched his fist. From the start to the end of the aisle, his heart sank deeper and deeper. Watching a woman like Christine walk off to another dude was just…

The dude was a damn nerd! Tall and ebony with a beard and big smile. What did he have that Stephen didn't!?

"Charlie," the notary began, "do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?" 

When Charlie answered, "I do," Stephen's fist tightened.

"Christine, do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

Christine answered with a big smile on her rouge lips. "I do."

"Repeat after me then—"

Stephen tuned out after that. He couldn't handle it. He just couldn't.

***

Dr. Stephen Strange stood at the back of the grand ballroom, the wedding celebration in full swing around him. Steph was dressed in a sharp black suit and looked every bit the part of a distinguished guest. He pretended to be calm and composed. 

But beneath that composed exterior, a storm was brewing.

Christine Palmer, his former lover, was radiant in her wedding dress. She glided through the room, greeting guests with her warm smile, a glass of wine in hand. Strange's eyes followed her every move, unable to tear his gaze away. Her laughter, her smile, the way she effortlessly charmed everyone she spoke to—it was all too familiar and yet painfully out of reach.

He watched as she approached her new husband, Charlie, who stood with a group of friends, laughing and sharing stories. Charlie was everything Stephen wasn't. He didn't have the wealth or the good-looks or the magic. Strange knew he was the better man, and yet, he didn't get the girl. He couldn't. 

As Christine reached Charlie, she touched his arm lightly, drawing his attention. They exchanged a look, the kind of look that spoke volumes of their love and connection. 

Strange's jaw tightened, his grip on his glass of water tightening as well. He took a slow sip, masking his emotions behind the façade of casual indifference. No one in the room could have guessed the turmoil inside him—not even Christine. The two of them had shared so much, and yet, she had moved on. She had found happiness with someone else. 

'She's getting railed by another man—' 

His eyes squeezed shut. The image of the two together and consummating pissed him off. It was so fucking hard not to visualize it. He'd thought he could handle it, that he could be happy for her without letting his feelings get in the way. And on the surface, he was succeeding. But inside, he couldn't shake the thoughts that plagued him—thoughts of what could have been, what he had lost, and what she now shared with someone else.

He watched as Christine and Charlie spoke quietly, their heads close together. Charlie said something that made Christine laugh, her eyes lighting up with genuine joy. Strange felt a pang of jealousy, sharper than any pain he had known. It wasn't just the fact that Christine was with someone else; it was the realization that she was truly happy. A happiness that he had never fully given her.

Strange tore his gaze away, focusing on anything else—the decorations, the other guests, the band playing in the corner. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept circling back to Christine and Charlie. He knew that he should leave, that staying any longer would only make things worse, but he couldn't bring himself to walk away. Not yet.

Eventually, Christine noticed him standing near the bar. She excused herself from the conversation and made her way over to him, her smile as warm as ever. "Stephen," she greeted, her voice soft and affectionate. "I'm so glad you could make it."

He returned her smile, though it felt strained. "I wouldn't miss it," he replied, his voice steady. 

"Glass of red wine, please."

Oh, allow me, Miss."

With a flick of magic, her glass filled up. His heart fluttered from her reaction.

"Ah." Christine nodded and smiled and brought the drink to her lips. 

"A little too on the nose?" Stephen joked.

"You at my wedding. Nah, it's perfect."

There was a smile and a certain look. Stephen tried to match it as he filled up his own glass. "Congratulations."

"Thank you."

The ambience. The smile. Seeing her in such a wonderful dress. He couldn't forget. He could never forget. With his photographic memory, everything they ever did was seared into his brain as if it happened yesterday.

Her tits, her waist, her flat tummy, and her glorious ass cheeks. Fuck, the memories were too big to ignore. 

***

A stunning woman with brown-blonde hair and emerald green eyes—that was Christine Palmer. A nurse, a beauty, and a smart lady that knew her role. 

"Mmmhh! Ah~! Mmmmh! Stephen~!" 

Her breasts pressed to his chest. Her lips oh-so-close and her scent engulfing him. She tasted like vanilla and it was glorious. Stephen's cock throbbed, balls churning. Hands were hooked on his shoulders. His own hands were busy on a fine pair of ass cheeks. Firm and not very soft but so fucking addicting to grope.

"Mmm…!" 

Christine bounced up and down on Stephen's cock. She wore a sultry smile as she rode him, her C-cups pressed to his bare chest. Stephen reveled in the feeling of her tight pussy around his cock. "Already cumming, Christine?"

Christine rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth turned up in a bigger smile. At this point, she had been dating Stephen for a while now, and while she enjoyed their physical relationship, she often found his arrogance and egotism to be a turn-off. Stephen knew she hadn't orgasmed yet—as he had grown to learn, Christine was the type that didn't cum often. 

When she did though—

"Unh~!"

Her head tossed back.

It was glorious. Stephen hadn't quite gotten her to her peak but he was damn close. He was a genius for a reason. He could do anything. 

Christine's pussy couldn't deny the way it reacted to his cock. She leaned down, and pressed her lips to his. Stephen eagerly returned the kiss, his hands squeezing her ass cheeks.

'Ride me, ride me…!'

This power, this pussy, all of this was what it meant to be Stephen Strange.

Christine broke the kiss and sat up, her hands on Stephen's chest. She began to grind her hips in a slow, circular motion, eliciting a low moan from Stephen.

"Fuck, Christine," he gasped, his hands going from her ass to gripping her hips.

Christine leaned down again, her breath hot against Stephen's ear. "You sure are sensitive, Stephen. Going to cum already?"

Stephen could only nod, his breath coming in short gasps. Sometimes, as if able to do it on a while, Christine's cunt could overpower him. Control his cock and when he could cum. That was why he chose her; among all the women he had met in his life, only she could be so beautiful during sex and take control. Only she could make him feel weak yet also superior.

Christine smiled, her hands braced on his chest. She began to bounce up and down again, her moans mingling with Stephen's.

"Hahh~! Nnggh~! F-fuck! Christine!" Stephen's balls were churning. They were quickly reaching their peaks, Christine included. Like seriously, she was so damn tight!

Stephen grabbed Christine's hips and thrust up into her, his cock hitting her G-spot. Christine cried out and smiled harder. "Yes, yes, yes~! Yes, that's it! I'm almost there~!" 

Fuck her. Rail her. 

'Bounce on my dick!'

He bucked his hips. He was a doctor, not an athlete, so he tended to buck his hips near the end. When he was coming, when things were becoming tense and he needed Christine to reach her climax. It was always a close-call though. Christine was tougher than any surgery he had done in regards to getting her to cum. 

"S-shit!" Stephen cursed, cock throbbing. The pressure was rising up. The sweat on him was thickening, his breathing rapidly growing. "C-Christine…!"

Thrust, thrust, thrust! They were clumsy and almost meek. Christine tried to meet his eyes and match his pace but he was too damn slow. He couldn't keep up with this smoking hot nurse. She was too athletic. 

"Just a bit more, Stephen! I'm almost—"

Spuuuurt! 

He came. His hands came undone, flat on the mattress. He stopped bucking his hips, head thrown back, and came buckets. His nutsack wrung itself of all its seed, light cumshots tainting her walls.

Spurt, spurt, spuurt! 

Breathless, Stephen's head fell forward and rested on her tits. They weren't huge, probably C-cups, but he could hear her heart racing. His cock spewed out some more cum and he sighed. Through the ecstasy and warmth of her pussy, his mind turned slow; like mush. 

'She came, right?' Stephen thought, his spent member twitching inside her. 'She must have.'

"That was incredible, Christine," Stephen muttered, his hands finding themselves on her hips.

Christine stroked Stephen's hair, her eyes closed. "Yes, it was."

When it came to Christine, he was willing to let down his guard and be vulnerable. His dick slipped out and another sigh escaped him. Utterly drained, what popped out were three inches of flaccid cock, hanging between his legs and underneath the heart-shaped ass of Christine Palmer. Perhaps to some, the little cock did not deserve the amazing ass. 

But at the end of the day, Stephen was still getting that pussy. 

He slapped her ass and Christine rolled her eyes. Her breathing was shallow and her body language had shifted from jittery and excited to agitated.

Christine was used to Stephen's confident and sometimes cocky attitude and rather than argue against the ass tap, she got off of him. Stephen Strange's penthouse was as massive as it was fancy. Christine had been bouncing on his dick on an L-shaped white couch. The other half of the couch was perfectly pointed to the television screen. She rolled over onto her belly and onto the other half.

Stephen sat there, head tilted back, limp cock wet between his legs. Hardly three inches, the night sky behind them, it wasn't exactly the best of cocks. Then again, he was rich and living in a huge penthouse with a hundred-inch 4k television screen in front of him.

Life was good.

He was rich and smart and had a hot nurse for a girlfriend. 

Especially since Christine's bare ass was now perfectly positioned for Stephen to grope. Pale and jiggly from the sex. Not huge, but damn firm and athletic. His girlfriend worked out at the gym often to keep up with the physical demands of being a nurse.

A pang of jealousy struck him. If she was training for that ass, then that men were definitely leering at her. Scanning the curves of her and judging whether they could fill her pussy up with their own dicks.

Stephen knew he did when he first saw her in that tight nurse's uniform. 

With a snap of the finger, Christine turned on the television. It was the newest of models from Stark Industries so there was an AI installed that responded to the whims of their owner. A snap, for example, turned it on. A voice command could switch channels. Christine did just that.

"Put on the Daily Bugle."

Her voice, her ass, everything about his girlfriend was gorgeous. Stephen couldn't resist the temptation and placed his hand on Christine's ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. Christine rolled her eyes again.

"You know, I could get used to this view," Stephen said, his hand still resting on Christine's ass.

"Mmm, I could get used to this too," Christine replied, heading nudging to the luxurious penthouse and the incredible view of the city behind them. 

Stephen chuckled and squeezed her ass again. "I wasn't talking about the view out the window."

Christine turned her head to look at Stephen, a playful smile on her face. 

He leaned in closer, his lips finding Christine's ear. "I could spend all day looking at that view," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

Christine shivered with pleasure, her body responding to Stephen's words. She turned her head to meet his lips, their tongues dancing together in a passionate kiss.

While kissing, Christine reached and found Stephen's small balls and average three-inch flaccid cock. She gave his sack a gentle squeeze, causing Stephen to gasp, then began with the strokes.

"You like that?" Christine asked, her voice husky with desire.

Stephen closed his eyes in ecstasy. "Yes, don't stop."

Christine continued to stroke and squeeze Stephen's shaft. She began to jerk him off, her hand moving up and down his member. He was sensitive as he was empty, so it took a while before his cock twitched and responded. He was a normal guy, after all.

"Stephen Strange, genius surgeon…" Schlap! Schlap! Schlap! "...still has a refractory period."

"A-all men do," Stephen stammered with his usual cockiness. "Don't listen to porn."

Christine hummed. Stephen's sighs grew louder as Christine touched him, his cock twitching and slowly responding to her touch. They lay there for a while, watching TV and enjoying each other's company. Stephen's hand was still on Christine's ass, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her skin, while Christine jerked him off.

At last, he was at full mast. Five inches of a slender cock, throbbing madly at the sight and feel of her. 

"You ever think about dying your hair red?"

Another eye roll. "Why?"

"Just saying," Stephen said. "It would look better on you."

Schlap! Schlap! Schlap!

She didn't bother responding and simply kept jerking him off. "Whatever you say, Strange."

"Ha, just kidding." Stephen smiled. "I love you, Christine."

Christine looked up, still on her belly, a smile on her face. "I love you too, Stephen."

***

His pants tightened.

That was so, so long ago. The time when she would supply him a handjob whenever he asked for it. The time that she came to his penthouse for the sole purpose of getting fucked. 

Those times were gone though.

Christine now talked to him differently.

"—the director was being an absolute ass—"

"Trust me, if you were there, you would have kept his mouth shut."

Stephen wore a faint smile. "I'm sure."

She smiled. She gestured. Her earrings were expensive, self-bought, and her lips were ripe to be kissed.

But she never came too close. She never allowed him to touch or come close. She talked about the old days but…

"Haa…" Christine sighed and smiled. "They were the old days for a reason, right?"

"Right."

Stephen did not agree. A thought dared to intrude in his mind; that he would trade all the magic and money just to be able to feel her bounce on his dick again. 

That thought spiked when he heard a laugh.

"Oh, wow!"

 Charlie had arrived, standing next to Christine and eyeing Stephen up excitedly. "Wow, I can't believe it. Stephen Strange! I'm, like, a huge fan." He seemed almost out of breath looking at him. He raised a hand as if hoping to receive a handshake from his idol.

Right. Idol. 

Strange forced a smile, shaking Charlie's hand. "Congratulations, Charlie. You're a lucky man."

Charlie grinned. "I know. And thanks. It means a lot that you came."

That was when he wrapped an arm around Christine's waist. That was when the memories of Christine hopping on his dick surged and his dick twitched in his pants. 

"Like seriously, can I get an autograph later?" Charlie asked. 

Christine rolled her eyes, except it was different than when she used to do it with him. "He's a huge fan. Did I mention that?"

"Don't think so," Stephen replied.

"Well, I'm a huge fan of yours. Magic is my shit," Charlie said. "Is there any chance I could learn something?"

"Aaand that's our cue." Christine hooked her arm with Charlie's. "Remember your father? We should greet him."

"Right, right." Charlie flashed Stephen a sheepish smile. "Next time?"

"We'll see," Stephen ended up saying.

As for Christine, she never released Charlie's but still had the audacity to come forward and place a hand on Stephen's chest. "Thank you, Stephen. For coming."

Her eyes. Her smile. Her appreciation.

But at the end of it, she was hooked to another man. Her husband. Her real love.

Christine walked away, back to the center of the room where the festivities continued. Charlie never left her side. Charlie never stopped smiling when he looked at her. Strange watched them go, the smile fading from his face. 

His cock twitched in his pants again. His semi-erection was nearing its fullest state. 

He realized then that it was time to leave. There was nothing left for him here.

Dr. Stephen Strange made his way to the exit, slipping out unnoticed. The cool evening air greeted him as he stepped outside. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind, but the thoughts kept returning—Christine, her smile, the life she was building with someone else.

'Just how big is his dick to make her look at him like that—?' 

He stopped. Intrusive thoughts, stop! 

He proceeded to walk back to the Sanctum Sanctorum. But no matter how cold it got, his thoughts grew darker, more obsessive. He couldn't shake the image of Christine with Charlie, couldn't stop imagining what they were doing when the wedding would be over. It gnawed at him, a relentless torment that refused to let go.

'Don't tell me he's one of those guys that look innocent but have a huge cock? Fuck, no, that's not…no! No, no, no!' 

When he finally arrived home, he collapsed onto his bed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The silence of the Sanctum did little to calm his racing mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Christine and Charlie together. 

He imagined a big eight inch cock looming over Christine's awed face.

Fuck! 

"Am I bigger than Strange?"

"W-way bigger…!" 

He closed his eyes. He took a bath. He changed into clothing worthy of the Supreme Sorcerer. Alas, the clothes did not make the man. 

He stood and stared at his empty bed. On the other end of New York, he imagined Christine's bed. He imagined the creaking, the moans, and the raw fucking. 

His fist clenched.

'I'm the Sorcerer Supreme, why in the world am I thinking about my ex getting railed by another man?' 

Technically, he was the former Sorcerer Supreme, which just made it first. First his title, now Christine. In seven years, he lost both!

The temptation to use his magic was overwhelming. He had the power to see them, to know what they were doing, to confirm the thoughts that were haunting him. But he also knew that such an action would be wrong—an invasion of privacy, a betrayal of the very principles he stood for.

Yet, as the minutes ticked by, the temptation only grew stronger. He sighed and pace around his room, his mind locked in an endless loop. He couldn't do it—he shouldn't do it. But the thought lingered, a constant whisper in the back of his mind.

"I bet Christine is having a way better time with Charlie—!"

"Imagine how hung he must be if she moved on from you, a wealthy surgeon and superhero—"

"She proposed to him! She asked him out! She chose him for a reason—!" 

Christine Palmer chose Charlie for a reason.

He had to know what it was. 

It was nighttime and Strange found himself standing in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection. The man who looked back at him was powerful, yes, but also deeply flawed. 

"I have to know. I need to know. Is she happy? Is she…"

…better off without him?

***

The room was dark save for the spell letters illuminating the space. Doctor Stephen Strange sat alone, his long red cape resting gently over the back of a chair, the Orb of Agamotto floating before him. Shaped like Earth, appearing like the Earth, it was a point of great magical energy. 

Doctor Strange hesitated for a moment, his fingers hovering over the Orb. He knew he shouldn't, that spying on someone's private life was a misuse of his powers, but the ache in his chest compelled him to know. What did Christine see in Charlie that made her choose him? Was there something more, something he lacked?

But he pushed, his fingers coming together into a gesture that lit up the room and his vision.

He was here.

A penthouse not too dissimilar to the one Stephen used to own, elegantly decorated with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city lights below. A fire crackled softly in the fireplace, casting a warm, flickering glow across the room. Rose petals were scattered over the king-sized bed, and the faint scent of jasmine lingered in the air.

Stephen could feel and taste here. No, he was here. 

Christine Palmer stood near the window, gazing out at the cityscape, still in her wedding dress. The soft fabric clung to her, highlighting her graceful figure. 

Stephen swallowed thickly. He reached forward—

"Christine."

The door clicked and Stephen's outreached arm came back. Stephen turned and saw Charlie. He had changed out of his tuxedo. She turned to face him, and the sight of him took her breath away.

Charlie had changed into a simple, yet well-fitted, white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and dark slacks.

There he was.

There they were.

And here Stephen was too.

In the middle of it all without them knowing. Watching and invading their private moment. The tension was palpable. Stephen was a translucent entity invisible to the naked eye. 

"So…" Charlie grinned. "Wanna sleep or…sleep?"

Stephen rolled his eyes. What a stupid joke.

"The latter."

Except Christine laughed and actually responded to the goofy joke. Her hips swayed like a model's as she walked and approached him. Her finger lifted his chin and her smile grew.

"After all, I have my favourite stud with me."

Without a word, Christine went on her toes and captured her new husband's lips in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened. Stephen cringed, wanting to look away but couldn't. Charlie's hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as he took control of the kiss. Christine melted into him, her body responding to the intensity of his embrace.

Charlie's other hand moved to her ass, gripping her firmly. He did not push, she stepped-back. She wanted him to dominate even though he wanted equality. She pressed herself against the cool glass of the window. The contrast between the cold surface and the heat of his touch sent a shiver down Christine's spine. She gasped softly into his mouth, and Charlie took the opportunity to deepen the kiss further, his tongue exploring her mouth. 

As they kissed deeply, their tongues dancing together, Stephen's cock twitched in his pants. Of course they were going to consummate their marriage, what else were they going to do? Yet saying and seeing were two separate matters. 

Charlie's hands roamed Christine's body, cupping her full breasts and squeezing them gently. Her nipples hardened instantly, causing a moan to escape her lips. Her white dress wasn't thick and Stephen could see her arousal. Her face flushed.

Stephen's cock twitched again as Christine broke the kiss and slipped down to her knees.

Charlie wasn't the tallest man in the world. He wasn't some buff, bulging black man, he was normal and confidently masculine with a nice beard and a goofy sense of humour. A normal albeit tall guy for all intents and purposes.

Thwap!

A normal guy.

"A normal guy."

'A normal guy.' 

Stephen Strange repeated that phrase several times. It didn't change reality, however. Charlie was a normal guy, save for one important thing.

From that revelation, Stephen had certified this as the worst day in his life.

"Mmmm…"

Christine cooed. Fucking hell, of course she did. What bounced from the waistband of Charlie's pants was a gargantuan flaccid cock that shamed the average New Yorker by several degrees of measurement. Stephen's photographic memory and natural intelligence countered every last inch. 

'One, two, three, four, five…' 

More than Stephen's biggest erection—

'Seven, eight…' 

More than what he imagined—!

'...nine, ten…' 

Literally double that of Stephen while flaccid—! 

'....ten…and a half.' 

What fell on top of Christine Palmer's cooing, melting expression was a giant black cock. The same shade as the rest of his skin yet somehow weighted and darker in Stephen's eyes. Perhaps because it had flopped onto the love of his life and her pale face. That contrast was simply heart-breaking.

'His cock is literally covering half of her face…' 

Not only was his schlong absolutely massive, but his balls were weighty. Almost instinctively, Christine's hands came up to massage the alpha sack—and Stephen instantly noted they were just a bit smaller than her small fists.

Christine's hands scratched the back of his dangling sack while her tongue sprouted out and went from base to tip.

A bonafide BBC.

"What the hell…"Stephen Strange stood there with his own full erection caged in his pants. Twitching, raging, wanting to take Christine Palmer away from this monster cock but…

"You're so big," Christine murmured, her hand drifting from his sack to grabbing the base of his cock. Her lips, meanwhile, had finally met the tip of his cock and she gave a kiss. "Mwah~!"

…knowing it was futile.

Ten inches long while flaccid.

'I'm only five—' 

There was more to come. More to see. 

And see he did.

Leaning forward, Christine wrapped her lips around the tip. Its girth was absurd, certainly double Stephen's current erection. Her lips were parted into an O-shape he had never seen before and her tongue was quick to swirl around the head. 

Christine was great at sucking dick. Always was, always would be. 

"Like old times," Stephen muttered.

"Christine…! Jesus…!" 

Seeing that look on her husband, Christine smiled through her O-shape mouth and went deeper. Stephen nearly busted at the type. His girl was committed.

She went deeper and deeper until Stephen could see the visible bulge in her throat. Not only was she taking this BBC like a champ, but she was doing so while experiencing it getting hard.

"Christine, you…you've already done this before. You…just how many times…"

Stephen practically whimpered out the question. 

Charlie closed his eyes, sighing and standing there as his cock throbbed to life. If Stephen had a glass in his hand, it would have dropped. That fucker's ego was definitely swelling at seeing his wife struggle with his cock. He probably thought about how lucky she was to have a cock like his to pleasure her—especially after being with the Supreme Sorcerer, Doctor Strange.

"Fuck, did you tell him?" Stephen asked while Charlie's cock throbbed and grew. "Did you already tell him that his dick is way bigger than mine?"

Pop!

Saliva bubbled up in her mouth, connected to the tip of his cock. Stephen took a step back.

That thing was massive. Thirteen inches long, he calculated, with a thickness that rivalled his forearm. This dude really was a stud. No exaggeration, no bullshit, this normal black dude had a dick that could rival the Hulk himself.

How fucking unlucky was he!?

First his title as Sorcerer Supreme, now this! Now he had to live with the fact that his greatest love was choking on the biggest black dick in New York! Out of everyone in the city, it couldn't have been some normal dude. Maybe six inches or four inches.

But thirteen fucking inches!?

Christine looked like she loved the thing. She smiled up at him, kissing his sack and leaving a bit of lipstick, and then went back to throating him down. To witness his ex both extract and then swallow that monster cock was humiliating.

"Mmmppph! Ngghhh~!

It just had to be the extreme, didn't it? She had to be deepthroating a foot-long cock. A cock double his own size.

Stephen had always considered himself quite the catch—an arrogant sorcerer with looks and power to back it up—but seeing Charlie being as hung as a horse on top of his "appealing" humour and his bearded looks gave him pause. It made him reconsider every little egotistical thing about himself.

Stephen had dated Christine before Charlie, and he still held a torch for her. But now, as he watched her choke on that dick, struggle and do so while smiling, inadequacy coursed through him. His own cock was a mere five inches, and although he had always prided himself on his sexual prowess—

"No. Big dicks like that…" Stephen shook his head. "Not good for blood circulation or getting hard. Ha, I bet he'll get tuckered out afterward. A huge cock and big balls…ha, as if that has any biological incentive for actual ability in bed!"

That was the moment her nose touched his pelvis. That was the moment her lips touched his nutsack again.

That was the moment Christine's cheeks hollowed as she began to bob her head, taking more of him into her warm, wet mouth. Her hands gripped his thighs for support as she started to choke, her eyes watering slightly at the sheer size of him. But still, she persisted, her determination clear as she wanted to pleasure her new husband.

She never tried this hard with Stephen. 

Charlie, his eyes closed in bliss, threaded his fingers through her hair, guiding her movements gently.

"That's it, Christine," Charlie murmured. "You're doing so well."

His balls tightened as he felt the wet warmth of her throat enveloping his massive cock. Both Stephen and Charlie knew he wouldn't last long with this kind of stimulation, especially with Christine's enthusiastic and skilled mouth.

Stephen pursed his lips. Christine was absolutely struggling to take Charlie's length. She gagged occasionally, her eyes watering, but she never once pulled away, her hands caressing Charlie's balls, gently kneading the heavy sac as it tightened with his growing need to cum.

"I'm close," Charlie warned, his hips bucking slightly as he felt the coil of pleasure tighten in his gut. "I'm almost…nngghhh!" 

Christine hummed her response, taking him as deep as she could, her nose nuzzling his pubic bone. She wanted his cum, wanted to taste his release, and her efforts were about to be rewarded.

With a grunt of pleasure, Charlie unloaded into her waiting mouth. Rope after rope of hot, sticky cum shot down her throat, coating her taste buds with his salty flavor. Christine, a champ, swallowed it all, groaning in satisfaction as she milked him dry, her hands gently squeezing his balls, coaxing every last drop of cum from him.

Stephen stood there with his cock raging in his pants. 

Spurt, spurt, spurt!

Charlie kept cumming. Christine kept swallowing.

'Just how long can he cum for!?'

Looks like those balls weren't just for show because his climax went on for a long time. 

Numerous times a regular load, the cum kept flowing out of Charlie's cock in rhythm with his pulsing for a good minute. Christine kept swallowing, still not pulling away. Charlie groaned and willfully extracted his cock from his throat. He pulled and pulled and tugged—and each fucking inch triggered Stephen.

Nobody deserved a dick that big! Nobody! So why!?

"Mmmpphhh~!"

Why was the most impossible of cocks inside Christine of all people!? Why here!? Why him!? 

His big black cock burst from her lips and laid waste to her face. Christine was already smiling and letting those cumshots do her thing. White and as thick as jello, Stephen found himself quickly losing Christine under all the cum. There was so fucking much, it was like a face-mask.

"Haah…" 

By the end of his impressive orgasm, Christine's face was splattered with his cum, the excess dripping from her chin and coating the breasts of her dress.

Charlie sighed and laughed, his knees weakening at the sight of his beautiful bride, cum-soaked and sated.

"Mm…" Christine licked what she could and giggled. "No refractory period."

'Are you kidding me?' 

Yep, against all laws of gravity and biology, the massive thirteen inch appendage remained rigid. It didn't remotely droop down, the opposite occurred; it pulsated and thickened slightly.

"My balls are always going to be full for you, Christine." Charlie's smile was followed by a bob of his cock. Christine giggled again. "Ah, here."

Charlie leaned over, pulled open the drawer, and got out a towel. The whole time, his erection bobbed and fractured Stephen's soul and the medical knowledge he was once so proud of. A dick that big wasn't softening in the slightest. 

While Charlie handed the towel over to Christine like a gentleman, Stephen clicked his tongue.

"Screw that."

Without warning, Stephen snapped his fingers. The Cloak of Levitation hadn't joined him in this pseudo-spying mission due to its binding vow toward his physical body. His soul was a whole other game. And so, with that, he was naked. His average cock bouncing out and his feet stomping toward Charlie.

Christine laughed. Not because Stephen was there but because of the sheer amount of cum on her face that she had to wipe. Charlie was laughing too.

He didn't know it but his hero, Stephen Strange, was facing off against him. One member stood at five inches, connecting to a superhero with lean muscles, good looks, and walnuts for a nutsack. The other cock was thirteen inches long, quivering and dark, and powered by family jewels the size of fists.

Five inches versus thirteen inches? Ha, there really was no competition. But Stephen couldn't let himself believe that.

He stood there, flanking Christine on the other side with his measly cock. White and average-sized, but rendered minuscule from what lay parallel.

Charlie. The six-foot-two black male stood on the other side, his ebony cock stretching past Christine's face. 

Where was the former Sorcerer Supreme getting this confidence from? He didn't know. But it was better than to stand there and nut in his pants like a cuck. At least like this, he was fighting against that title. Stephen Strange was not just going to roll over and let this dude walk over the pussy he laid a claim to. 

Stephen crossed his arms and tapped his foot. In terms of body type, Stephen was perhaps the more attractive, being leaner and with more muscle whereas Charlie was six-foot-two and largely normal. No muscles, no fat, not much of anything impressive. When it came to cocks, however… 

"Hmph. It's not that big."

It was that big.

Once Christine was fresh and clean, she rose up to her knees and, for a moment, glanced to her left—to Stephen's cock. His heart leapt. Could she actually see him?

"Whoops."

But then her finger went and wiped a piece of cum lying on the floor directly under him. She plopped into her mouth and looked at her husband. 

"Still tastes like pineapple, I hope," Charlie joked.

"Always."

Giggling, Christine rose to her feet and let her waist get wrapped. Their foreheads touched but not their lips. Christine was still in her wedding dress. Stephen stared at her ass and the way the dress hugged her figure.

He loved it—until Charlie's hands made their way there. He was groping that shit harder than he ever did.

Fuck! Now all of a sudden, he wanted to go back in time and do it all over again! Grope her ass properly and squeeze it like it deserved to be squeezed! Both hands simply groping and enjoying and kneading those booty cheeks!

Christine was smiling at her husband, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. "That was just the beginning, you know."

"Oh-ho, I bet."

With a wicked glint in her eye, she walked and pushed him to the bed. Charlie let himself get pushed down, his back flat on the bed, his cock pointing up to the ceiling.

All so that he could watch Christine strip. 

The first thing she did was turn over, inadvertently presenting her ass, and then bent over, overtly doing it. She picked her dress from its helm and lifted it. Up, up, up, until it went past her waist and unveiled her bare cunt.

The dress went over and she tossed it aside.

Wow.

From Charlie's perspective, it was her ass and pussy.

From Stephen's perspective, it was the slit of her pussy and her tits.

'So that whole time during the wedding, you weren't wearing a bra or panties?' 

Neither Charlie nor Stephen could believe it. 

Her face, however, was angled over her shoulder, toward her husband and his reaction. Not Strange. Not the invisible man in front of her.

His cock twitched.

But it was Charlie's cock that garnered a giggle from her. 

"Yep," Christine said even though Charlie had not said a word. "I went commando today. Like it?"

"During our wedding day? Love it."

Christine turned, a hand on her hip. The invisible Stephen went behind her, his member lining up to her entrance. 

"Please, please, please."

But nothing. He felt nothing. He wasn't really here. As much as he wanted to grope her tits, he simply couldn't.

And so, she went away from the small white cock and toward the big black cock. Ass wagging, ass getting away from him. Christine straddled him and Stephen just had to witness thirteen inches of black dick rub between her pale ass cheeks.

Strange pursed his lips. "That looks heavy…" 

And he wasn't talking about Christine, but Charlie's fat balls. Lying there on the bed, squished between his legs, the virile pouch appeared blacker than even his cock.

Then spank! Both of Charlie's hands went over to grip that fantastic ass of hers, both buns cupped and gripped and kneaded.

While witnessing this passionate display, Stephen's jealousy burned hot and bright. His average cock, hard and aching, pulsed with envy as he saw the contrast between Charlie's massive member and his own meager offering. He tried to convince himself that size didn't matter, but the proof was before him.

Christine rose up, angling him toward her entrance, and Strange's breath hitched. Charlie was easily triple his thickness and already stretching her out with his mushroom black tip. His hands grasped Christine's hips as he positioned his throbbing cock at her entrance. 

"Christine—"

"Charrrliiiie~!" 

Dr. Strange flinched when his ex-girlfriend dropped. All that cock, all those inches, and she took it like a fucking champ. One inch, two inch, three inch, four inch, five inch…! Fuck, he didn't want to think about the number. There was still so much more to count. Oh yeah, there was no doubt about it—

"Haaahhh…nggghhhh~! Shoooo biiiigggg~!"

Christine had taken this dick before. She moaned loudly, her head falling forward as she felt every inch of him stretching her pussy. But then he heard her smile and laugh and he knew she wasn't giving up.

"Christine, you feel so good," Charlie whispered. "It was like you were made for my cock."

"I think…" Christine gasped for air, smiling. "I think I lived my life just for your cock."

Charlie began to move, his hips thrusting slowly and deeply, causing Christine to cry out with each stroke. Her juices flowed freely, coating his shaft as he plunged in and out of her. That giant black cock disappearing and reappearing inside her cunt, it was heart-breaking as it was arousing. This was like porn. It was like watching your ex star in one of those BBC pornos.

But this wasn't that. This was merely the love between a husband and a wife. A normal man and a normal woman. 

Charlie reached forward, gripping her breasts as he quickened his pace, his balls slapping against her clit with each deep thrust.

"Charrrliiie~! Charrliiieee~!" Seven, eight, nine. Nine thrusts. Nine thrusts and Christine's head and eyes were rolled back. "Cumiiiinnnng~!"

In ten thrusts, she orgasmed. In twenty seconds, she fucking came. 

Stephen couldn't believe what he was seeing. Christine had never reacted like this with him. What usually took him an hour took Charlie twenty fucking seconds. In his ego, Stephen Strange always assumed he was more than satisfying in bed, but now, as he watched Charlie fuck his ex-girlfriend with ease, he felt jealousy twist in his gut.

Just seven years ago, Christine had been bouncing up and down his dick in this very same way—except now, it was different. Now, there was lust and loud moans and squelches of her pussy that had never happened with him. 

"Charrrliiie~! Y-your cock~! Your cock! You're soooooooooo~!"

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

Stephen went wide-eyed. Oh fuck. So far, Charlie had been holding back. Holding her by the hips and simply going slow. But now—

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

"Yes, yes, yessssh~! Whatever you do, don't stop~! Don't stooopppp~!"

Charlie's hips were jackhammering into her. He must have been a former athlete because he was fucking her as hard and fast as Stephen had in his prime! But because of the difference in size, when Charlie jackhammered into her, the reaction was starkly more intensive. Christine practically went limp, the ebony hands of Charlie gripping her ass cheeks to keep her place.

"Never stop~! Don't stop~! Charlie! Charlie!" A loud, shrieking gasp followed. Stephen flinched and stepped back. "CHARRLIIEEE~! I'M CUMIIIINNNNG~!" 

Several orgasms crashed into her systems and she fucking squirted. Stephen didn't even know she could squirt. He thought Christine was the type that took long to cum and was one-and-done.

But no.

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

SCHLAP—! SCHLAP—! SCHLAP—! SCHLAP—! SCHLAP—! SCHLAP—! 

Charlie was drilling into her like a star athlete. 

"MMPPPPHHHHH~! NGGGHH~! GSSHJKKKKKK~!" Christine, like his pretty little cheerleader, was losing control. She flopped over, her face buried in his shoulder, and as if to flex his new wife, Charlie stopped. 

Charlie stopped and his hands went over to spread her cunt.

The sight of it caused cum to drip from Stephen's five-incher.

Inside Christine was a big black cock. Stretching her pussy wide and reaching the innermost depths of her pussy. Her womb was certainly locked and secured. Stimulated by this massive dick and its heat. Stephen knew because Christine loved when he was as deep as possible.

"Charlie…Charlie…Charlie…" Christine was slobbering, Stephen could see that. Charlie laughed and slapped her left ass cheek. 

"Sorry, sorry. Want me to stop?"

'Please say yes, please say yes—'

"No," Christine breathed out, lifting herself to stare into her husband's eyes. "Don't stop. Never stop. Break me, Charlie. Make me yours."

Charlie smiled. It was back to business.

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

In that moment of watching the big black cock ram into his ex-girlfriend's pussy, Stephen's dick throbbed and shot off thick jets of cum. Not a sliver of his seed actually managed to touch her. After all, he wasn't really here.