It was supposed to be one night on the couch.
My boyfriend Alex and I had been fighting for weeks. The same fight every time. He comes home exhausted from work, crashes on the bed, and when I reach for him he mumbles about workload and stress. Days turn into weeks without anything. No kissing that lasts more than a second. No hands wandering. No fucking. Just me lying next to him, hard and ignored, while he scrolls his phone until he falls asleep. I tried talking about it. He said he was tired. Always tired. Last night it boiled over. I told him I felt unwanted. That I needed more than just sleeping beside someone who never touched me. He snapped that I was being dramatic, that sex isn't everything, that real relationships are about more than getting off. I felt the words hit like a slap. I grabbed my keys and left. Texted my best friend Mia that I needed a place to crash. She said “Come over, the couch is yours, no problem.”
Mia and her husband Ryan have been together since college. Solid couple. The kind people envy on social media. She works long hours in marketing, but they always seemed happy. Ryan is the guy who still looks good in everything. Early thirties now. Dad bod but the good kind. Soft layer over real muscle from weekend hikes and pickup basketball games with his buddies. Thick thighs that strain his shorts. Hairy chest that peeks out when his shirt rides up. Face that smiles easy but eyes that hold something darker when no one's looking. I've known him for years. Never thought about him like that. Until tonight.
I showed up around ten. Mia hugged me tight, poured wine, listened to me vent about Alex. Ryan was in the living room watching a late game, gave me a nod and a quiet "sorry man, that sucks." We talked a little. Nothing deep. They went to bed around midnight. I stripped to my boxers, lay on the couch under a thin blanket, stared at the ceiling. Couldn't sleep. Cock half hard just from the frustration. From thinking about how long it had been since someone touched me like they meant it. Since someone wanted me enough to stay awake for it.
Around two I heard footsteps. Soft. Bare feet on hardwood. Kitchen light flicked on low. I sat up slow, blanket pooling at my waist, and peeked around the corner.
Ryan stood at the sink in nothing but tight black boxer briefs. The kind that cling like a second skin. Fabric stretched thin over his round ass. Bulge heavy in front, shifting as he moved. He filled a glass from the tap, drank deep. Sweat glistened on his shoulders and chest even though the AC was running. Must have been restless too. The light caught the trail of hair leading down from his navel, disappearing into those briefs.
He turned. Caught me looking. Didn't flinch. Just set the glass down on the counter with a soft clink.
"Shit. Sorry man. Did I wake you?"
I shook my head. Voice low so it wouldn't carry upstairs. "Nah, you’re good. Couldn't sleep anyway."
He walked over and sat on the far end of the couch. Close enough that our thighs almost touched. He had the kind of masculine scent that hits you low in the gut and makes your balls tighten.
"What's keeping you up, man?" he asked. Casual. Like we talked about this shit all the time.
I exhaled. Ran a hand through my hair. "Alex. Same fight. He barely touches me anymore. Says work's too much. We go days without anything. Weeks sometimes. I try to initiate and he just turns over. Tells me to be patient. That he's stressed. That sex will happen when things calm down. They never calm down."
Ryan nodded slow. Leaned back. Arms spread along the couch back. One hand close to my shoulder now. His chest rose and fell steady.
"Know the feeling," he said. "Mia's great. Love her to death. But lately... same thing. She's tired. Says she's tried everything. Blowjobs are off the table. Hasn't sucked me in months. Says it makes her jaw hurt or she's not in the mood. So I lie there next to her, hard as fuck, and jerk off quiet while she sleeps. Pretend it's enough. It's not. Jerking off next to your wife while she snores isn't intimacy. It's just relief. And it's lonely."
The words hung there. Heavy. Honest. My cock twitched under the blanket. I shifted. Tried to hide it but the movement only made the fabric tent a little.
"So that's why you're awake?" I asked. Voice quieter than I meant.
Ryan looked at me. Eyes dropping to the blanket for a second. Then back up. Smirk tugged the corner of his mouth.
"Kind of. Been fucking horny"
Silence stretched. Kitchen light cast shadows across his chest. Down to those briefs. The bulge had thickened noticeably. The outline was clear now. Head pressing against the fabric like it was trying to escape. A dark spot formed where precum leaked through. Wet. Obvious.
I stared. Couldn't help it. My throat went tight.
He noticed. Didn't move to cover. Just spread his legs a little wider. Thighs flexing.
"See something you like?"
My mouth went dry. Heart hammered against my ribs.
"I... yeah."
He reached over. Took my hand. Guided it to his thigh. Skin hot. Muscle firm under the soft give. I felt the pulse there. Fast like mine.
"Don’t be shy" he murmured.
His hand stayed. Thumb stroking slow circles on the back of my hand. Mine trembled as I slid higher. Brushed the edge of his briefs. Felt the heat radiating from his cock. It jumped under the touch.
He exhaled sharply. Hips lifted just enough to press into my palm.
"Been a while since someone wanted this," he said. Voice rough now. Low.
I swallowed hard. "Been longer for me."
He hooked his thumbs in the waistband. Pushed the briefs down slowly. Inch by inch. Cock sprang free. Thick. Veiny. Uncut foreskin pulled back halfway over the flushed head. Shiny with precum. Heavy hairy balls below, drawn tight. Musk hit me hard. Pure man. Salty. Intoxicating. I leaned in without thinking.
Ryan spread his legs wider. One hand on the back of my head. Gentle but firm. Fingers threading through my hair.
"Shh. She's right upstairs."
I dropped to my knees between his thighs. The couch creaked soft under the shift. And blanket fell away completely. My own cock strained against my boxers, leaking a wet spot at the front. Aching. Ignored for now.
I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock. Hot. Pulsing. Skin velvet over steel. Thick enough that my fingers didn't meet. I licked the head first. Slow drag of my tongue. Tasted salt and precum. Bitter. Addictive. Ryan groaned low in his throat. Fingers tightened in my hair.
“Yeah, fuck, right there man!”
I took him deeper. Lips stretching wide. Tongue flat along the underside. He filled my mouth fast. Heavy on my tongue. I gagged a little on the downstroke. Throat fluttering. Saliva pooled quickly. Dripped down his shaft in thick strings. I bobbed slowly at first. Savored the weight. The way he throbbed against the roof of my mouth.
Then faster. Wet sounds filled the dark room. Slurps. Soft gags when I pushed too deep. His breathing turned ragged. Hips rocking gently. Fucking my face in shallow thrusts. Careful. Controlled. Every slide made my eyes water. Every pull back left me chasing him.
"Fuck. You know what you are doing."
He guided me. Not forcing. Just encouraging the rhythm. Hand firm on my head. I moaned around him. Vibration making him curse under his breath. Low. Desperate.
"Take it all. Come on."
I relaxed my throat. Pushed down until my nose pressed into his pubes. Held. Smelled him fully. Sweat and musk and man. Tears pricked my eyes. Throat worked around him. Swallowing. Milking.
He groaned deep. Cock throbbed hard against my tongue. Veins pulsing.
"Close. Fuck. Gonna cum."
I didn't pull off. Sucked harder. Tongue swirling under the head. Hand pumping the base in tight strokes. Fingers slick with spit.
Ryan's thighs tensed. Muscles locked. Hand clamped on my head again. Held me there. Deep. No escape.
He came.
Hot pulses flooded my mouth. Thick ropes. Salty. Bitter. Shot after shot hitting the back of my throat. I swallowed fast. Greedy. Kept sucking through it. Tongue pressing. Lips tight. Milking every drop. His cock jerked with each spurt. It softened slowly in my mouth but I didn't let go. Kept gentle suction until he hissed soft.
When he finished he pulled out slowly. Careful. Cum string connected my lips to his head for a second. Thick. White. Broke and landed on my chin. Warm. Sticky.
He looked down at me. Eyes dark. Satisfied. Breathing still heavy.
Wiped my mouth with his thumb. Pushed it between my lips. Let me taste the last of him. Salty remnants. I sucked clean without thinking.
"Mia doesn't need to know," he whispered. Voice hoarse. "How good you swallow."
I stayed on my knees. Cock aching. Throbbing painfully. Throat raw. Taste of my best friend’s husband coating my tongue. My lips. My chin still wet with his cum.
He tucked himself back in the briefs. Fabric stretched again over his softening cock. Stood slow. Adjusted himself.
"Thanks man," he said. Voice normal again. Like we just talked about the weather. Like he hadn't just fucked my face and fed me his load while his wife slept upstairs.
He walked back to the bedroom. The door clicked shut soft.
I stayed there for a moment. Knees on the rug. Chest heaving. Then crawled back onto the couch. Pulled the blanket over me. Cum drying on my chin. Taste lingering. Cock still hard. Leaking. Staring at the ceiling in the dark.
What the fuck just happened.
Morning was going to be interesting.
If you enjoyed this story, consider supporting the author on Patreon.
