I woke up the next morning in a complete panic. My heart was pounding before I even opened my eyes. I could not believe what I had done. I had cheated on Chris. I had cheated on the boyfriend I loved more than anything in the world. How could I do that? Chris was everything to me. How had I let Oliver fuck me raw in our own living room while Chris slept just down the hall? The guilt hit me like a wave and I felt sick.
Chris was already up. I lay there for a minute, my whole body aching in ways I had never felt before. My hole throbbed, my jaw was sore, my legs felt weak. I tentatively got out of bed and pulled on some pyjama bottoms and a loose t-shirt. Every step reminded me of what Oliver had done to me.
When I walked into the living room both Chris and Oliver were there. Chris was in the kitchen making breakfast and he turned with a warm smile the moment he saw me.
"Morning, babe," he said brightly. He pulled me into a tight hug and kissed me softly on the lips. "You look like you need this." He handed me a fresh coffee, his arms still around me.
Oliver was sat on the sofa watching football. He just grunted in my direction without looking up.
Chris kept his arm around my waist. "So, did you two have a good night?"
I went white. My mouth opened but nothing came out. I stuttered, trying to find words, my face burning with shame.
Oliver shouted from the sofa without missing a beat. "Yeah, we had a great night!"
Chris chuckled, kissed my forehead again, and handed me the coffee. "Glad to hear it. I'm going to jump in the shower quick." He gave my ass a gentle squeeze and headed off.
I stood there awkwardly, sipping the coffee and trying to avoid Oliver's eye. My hands were shaking as I washed the empty cup at the sink. Then I felt him. Oliver walked over and pressed right up against me from behind. I flinched hard.
He leaned into my ear, voice low and mocking. "That pussy sore, slut? Cored you out good last night. I bet your entire body is aching. Fucked your brains out, didn't I? Was it the best dick of your life?"
I stuttered, unable to form a reply. Deep down a horrible little part of me knew he might actually be right. Sex with Chris was amazing because I loved him more than anything, but Oliver's dick really had been better physically. Bigger, thicker, more overwhelming.
Oliver did not wait for an answer. He slipped his hand down the front of my pyjama bottoms and stroked my sore hole with two fingers. "Still puffy, slut."
I pulled away from him and tried to push him off. "No, Oliver! Get off me. I love Chris!"
Oliver grabbed my hand and forced it onto the thick bulge in his shorts. "Now, now, slut. Don't pretend you don't want it. Sluts like you can't resist a big dick like this. I've fucked plenty of girls like you and you play hard to get, but the truth is your pussies are too hungry to resist for long."
I stayed firm this time and shoved him away properly. I turned and walked out fast, heading straight to our bedroom. My heart was racing.
Chris came in soon after, wearing just a towel around his waist. His body was tight and toned from the gym, and he was clearly horny. He moved straight to me, kissing me deeply and running his hands over my body. He squeezed my ass, pulling me close.
"Let me fuck you, babe. I'm so horny."
I resisted at first. "Not right now, Chris. I'm not in the mood."
But he pressed gently, kissing my neck, telling me how much he wanted me. His hands roamed softly over my body, squeezing my waist, tracing my hips, and cupping my ass with such tenderness that fresh tears pricked at my eyes. I felt so guilty, so dirty from what I had done the night before, but Chris's touch made me feel wanted, loved, safe. Finally I agreed, my voice barely above a whisper. We moved to the bed and he laid me down on my back. Chris gently pulled off my pyjama bottoms and top, leaving me completely naked under him. He took his time, kissing every bit of skin he exposed, his lips soft and loving against my stomach, my thighs, and my chest.
He reached for the lube on the bedside table, slicking up his fingers and his cock generously. Then he lubed me up too, rubbing the cool gel around my sore hole and pushing some inside with two careful fingers. The extra slickness helped ease the tenderness from the night before as he worked it in slowly, scissoring gently to open me up.
We settled into missionary position with my legs wrapped around his waist. Chris was very romantic the whole time, looking deep into my eyes as he lined up his cock against my now slick entrance. "I love you so much, babe," he murmured, his voice warm and full of affection. "You are the most beautiful person in my world. I never get tired of this, of being inside you, of feeling you around me." He pushed forward slowly, the head of his cock pressing against my puffy, used hole. The soreness from Oliver's thick cock flared up immediately, a deep, aching burn that made me wince and gasp. My hole was still tender and stretched from the night before, but the lube and Chris's patience helped. He rocked his hips in tiny movements, easing the head inside inch by inch. The stretch was intense. My walls fluttered around him, still sensitive from being wrecked, but Chris was patient. He kissed me softly on the lips, then on my forehead, holding still so I could adjust.
"Relax for me, my love," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. "I have got you. You feel so good already, so tight and warm." He rocked his hips in tiny movements, easing the head inside inch by inch. My walls fluttered around him, still sensitive from the night before, but the extra lube made the slide smooth even as the soreness lingered. Pleasure mixed with the ache, turning the burn into something hotter, deeper. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer, needing to feel all of him.
Once he was fully seated, balls deep inside me, Chris paused and just looked at me. His eyes were full of adoration. "God, you are so beautiful like this," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. "I love being connected to you like this. You are my everything." He started to move then, slow and deliberate, grinding deep instead of thrusting hard. Every roll of his hips dragged his cock along my inner walls, hitting that sweet spot over and over. The soreness from Oliver's brutal fucking made each stroke feel more intense, the ache blending with waves of pleasure that made my own cock throb between our stomachs. I moaned quietly, my hands running up his back, feeling the muscles flex under my fingers.
Chris kept kissing me constantly, his lips brushing mine, my neck, my collarbone. Between strokes he whispered sweet things. "I love you more than anything in the world. You make me so happy. Your hole feels incredible around me, so warm and tight. You were made for me, babe." His voice was low and tender, full of emotion. He ground into me with long, rolling movements, not rushing, just savouring every second. I could feel every inch of him, the way his cock throbbed inside me, the way my sore walls clenched around him with every slow push. The guilt sat heavy in my chest, but the love in his eyes and the pleasure building in my body pushed it down for a while. I felt claimed in the best way, loved, wanted.
He picked up the pace just a little, still deep and deliberate but with more force behind each thrust. "Look at me, baby," he said, locking eyes with me again. "I love watching your face when I am inside you. You are so gorgeous.” Every deep thrust made my hole ache with a mix of pain and pleasure. The tenderness from the night before made me extra sensitive, so every grind sent sparks shooting through me. My cock leaked steadily between us, smearing against our stomachs. Chris reached down and stroked me gently in time with his thrusts, his thumb rubbing over the head. "That is it, my love. Feel how deep I am. I am going to make you feel so good."
I moaned louder, my hands gripping his shoulders. The soreness was still there, a constant reminder of what I had done, but it only heightened everything. Chris's cock felt perfect inside me, familiar and loving, hitting every spot that made my toes curl. He kissed me again, deep and passionate, his tongue sliding against mine as he ground harder. "You are mine, babe. All mine. I love you so much. You are the most beautiful man I have ever known." His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket, easing some of the guilt even as my body trembled under him.
The pace stayed steady but intense. He fucked me with long, deliberate strokes, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in deep, making sure I felt every inch. My hole fluttered and clenched around him, the soreness turning into a deep, throbbing pleasure that built higher and higher. I could feel my orgasm approaching, my cock pulsing in his hand. Chris sensed it too. "Cum for me, baby. I want to feel you while I am inside you." He kept whispering how much he loved me, how beautiful I was, how perfect my hole felt squeezing him. The combination of his words, his slow deep thrusts, and his hand on my cock pushed me over the edge. I came hard, shooting between us, my hole clamping down around him in strong pulses.
Chris groaned, his own rhythm faltering as he got close. "I love you. You are everything to me." He thrust a little faster, still looking into my eyes, still kissing me between moans. Finally he buried himself deep and bred me, filling me with his warm load. He kept grinding through his orgasm, pumping every drop into me while telling me I was his everything, that he loved me more than anything. His cum mixed with the remnants of Oliver's load still deep inside me, but in that moment all I could focus on was Chris, his love, his body pressed to mine.
We stayed like that for a long time afterwards, him still inside me, kissing softly and whispering how much he loved me. My body ached, my heart was full of guilt and love all at once, but Chris made me feel safe, wanted, and completely his.
Finally he pulled out slowly and rolled off me. We lay there afterwards, sweating and catching our breath. As we recovered the shame and loathing that had momentarily faded with the pleasure came flooding back. I turned to Chris and started crying. The guilt crashed over me all at once.
"Chris, I have to tell you something."
"What is it, baby?" he said softly, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
"I slept with Oliver last night. I'm so sorry. I do not know how it happened, but it did and I hate myself for it."
Chris leaned in and kissed my forehead gently.
"I know, babe."
If you enjoyed this story, consider supporting the author on Patreon.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.