@Vermillion-Rx I was 23 years old, and playing bull for a married couple who had grown bored with each other and wanted to spice things up. The cuckhusband fancied himself a good cook and wanted to make us up a batch of French onion soup.

does this look like enough onions?

I heard him bellow from the kitchen. The idiot didn't realize whom he might summon. Taking my mouth off his hotwife's ample bosom for a moment, I yelled back:

don't say that so loudly! Don't you know what can be summoned?

They both laughed at me.

are you afraid we'll summon Shrek by mentioning onions? I thought you were supposed to be a bull, not a baby!

...they most uglilly mocked me. I started to DEER:

3 is already a crowd, and you might be OK with sharing your wife with me, but I'm not OK with sharing her any further, and we'll all end up sharing our anussesessessssess if we aren't careful here.

They didn't believe me.

don't worry, even if Shrek were real and showed up, this should be plenty of onions to go around!

I opened my mouth to warn them again, but I was too late. The front door burst in.

it was Shrek!

DID YOU JUST SAY, "ONIONS"?!

...the massive ogre inquired.

The couple couldn't believe their eyes.

holy shit, he's real!

... they exclaimed, to which he replied:

aye, real hungry, and real horny!

He started by bending the cuckhusband over the table, his massive eshrektion tearing right into his pants and asshole.

While the cuckhusband yelled in a weird mixture of pleasure and pain, Shrek pointed at me and the hotwife.

you two get back to what you were doing, but be ready because you're both next!

I had always tried to pretend that what Shrek and I had was special, and was afraid that my fucking other people would hurt him. It turns out he fucked anything that moved, and was more than OK with my philandering.

After launching the cuckhusband across the kitchen with his load, Shrek entered me from behind while I was mid-stroke on fucking the hotwife, doggy-style. Each thrust of his thrust me further into her, and when he and I blasted simultaneously, we covered her with enough fuck-chowder to make her look like a mucus monster. I was pretty covered too.

We all passed out together in a heap of endorphin-saturated contentment.

I woke up first, or so I thought.

Shrek had left, but had eaten all of the French onion soup first. He left us a note which read:

thanks for a great time, you three, but next time use more onions!

Shrek is love.

Shrek is LIFE.