Mark was fucking livid. He stormed out of the house with one goal: make Jake, the bastard who fucked his wife, Liz, pay. She’d claimed it was a moment of weakness, confessing through tears that she’d lost her head over some guy she met at a popular bar in Franklin, Tennessee, where they lived. Then she dropped the bomb that she’d seen the guy multiple times, cheating on Mark repeatedly. Mark, 32, jacked with broad shoulders and a chiseled face, wasn’t the type to let that shit slide. Some asshole had made him a cuckold, and his pride was on the line. He knew where to find Jake: a seedy gym on the outskirts of Franklin, where that son of a bitch spent his evenings lifting weights and strutting around. Liz even admitted that Jake had fucked her right there in that gym a few times.
In the parking lot, under the flickering glow of a streetlamp, Mark spotted him. Jake was a fucking giant: 6’3”, ripped abs visible through his tight tank top, dark hair mussed up, and an arrogant smirk that made Mark’s blood boil. He was hot, damn it, with a raw, rugged vibe that pissed Mark off even more. But Mark wasn’t there to stare. He was there to smash his face in.
He marched over, ready to take his revenge. “You’re the piece of shit who fucked my wife, Liz,” Mark growled, advancing with clenched fists.
Jake didn’t flinch. He leaned against the hood of his car, arms crossed. “Oh, you’re Mark. Liz mentioned you. What’s up, you here to whine and defend your little wifey’s honor?”
Mark felt the blood pounding in his temples. “I’m gonna fuck you up, asshole. Stay the hell away from her. How dare you touch her with your filthy hands?”
Jake laughed, a low, mocking chuckle. “Wanna know why your sweet little wife let me dirty her up and fuck her brains out? She couldn’t resist.” He stepped closer, his tone dripping with provocation. “I fucked her because I’m a real alpha, and she saw my cock, Mark. A real, big fucking cock.”
Mark’s face burned, rage mixing with a humiliation that hit like a punch. “Bullshit! You’re just a sleazy homewrecker with a bloated ego. You ain’t got shit.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Tell you what. Let’s make a bet, since you’re so fucking confident. We whip out our dicks, measure ‘em up. Whoever’s got the smaller one becomes the other’s bitch. Loser does whatever the winner wants: blowjobs, ass-pounding, the works. Until the winner’s done with him. You in, or you scared you’ll lose?”
Mark stared, dumbfounded. “You’re fucked in the head. I’m not a fag, you idiot.”
“Neither am I,” Jake shot back, but his gaze was predatory, confident. “But I’m curious. Liz dropped some hints about your dick, man. And I’m pretty sure mine’s bigger—you can’t compete. Come on, accept. Or you want all of Franklin to know I banged your precious wife? Man up and take the bet.”
Jake knew he had the upper hand. Liz, in a moment of weakness, had let slip that Mark was average. Jake, on the other hand? He was packing way above average—a cock that made heads spin, and he fucking knew it. Humiliating and owning this straight husband would be too damn easy, and a hell of a lot of fun.
Mark was shaking with rage, but something else was creeping in. The idea was insane, degrading, but the way Jake taunted him, with that cocky-ass confidence, was screwing with his head. The thought of humiliating Jake, proving he was the real man, pushed him over the edge. “Fuck it,” he spat, his voice tight. “I’m in. But only to shut your damn mouth and show you I’m the man here.”
Jake grinned, pointing to the back of the gym, a corner shrouded in shadows. “Let’s do this, then. Right now.”
The air was thick with tension as they moved behind the building. The silence was broken only by their footsteps on the concrete and the distant hum of a streetlamp. Mark’s heart was pounding, his anger mixing with a growing unease. The reality of what he was about to do made his skin crawl, but he couldn’t back down. Jake stopped, turning with a smug grin. He pulled out his phone and said, “Before we start, we’re recording this bet. No backing out.” He started the video, aiming the camera at them. “Go on, Mark. Tell the world the terms of our bet.”
Mark froze, his jaw clenched, the unease knotting his stomach. He glared at the phone, the blinking red light making his throat tighten. But his rage and pride won out. With a voice dripping with contempt, he said, “Here’s the bet: me and Jake are gonna measure our dicks. Whoever’s got the smaller one loses and becomes… the other’s bitch. Has to do whatever the winner wants: blowjobs, ass-fucking, anything. Until the winner’s done.” The words burned his tongue, the discomfort swelling as he spoke, but he pushed through, determined not to look weak. “And I’m not losing, you prick.”
Jake chuckled, turning the phone on himself. “Perfect. I, Jake, agree to the terms. Loser’s gonna be the other’s whore, and I already know it ain’t gonna be me.” He stopped recording, slipping the phone into his pocket with a smug grin. “Alright, champ. Whip out your cock first. Show me what you’re working with.”
Mark hesitated for a split second, the weight of the video pressing down on him. He knew he was trapped, but he still believed he could win, humiliate this asshole, and end this. He rubbed his crotch to get his cock hard, fueled by rage and adrenaline. With a bold move, he unzipped his jeans and pulled them down, revealing his cock. It was hard, despite the situation, and a decent size—not massive, but enough to give him confidence. “There,” he said, smirking. “Your turn, asshole.”
Jake eyed it, his smile unwavering. “Not bad, maybe your wife didn’t give you enough credit,” he said, his tone oozing sarcasm. “But now it’s my turn.” With deliberate slowness, he unzipped his jeans, pulling them down. When he pulled out his cock, Mark’s blood ran cold. It was monstrous—long, thick, with pulsing veins that made it even more intimidating, capped with a fat, helmet-like head. Jake stroked it casually, the smugness in his eyes clear as he watched Mark’s face.
Mark’s eyes widened, his expression shifting from rage to realization in a heartbeat. He knew he’d lost. Jake’s cock was on a whole other level, and the reality of what he’d agreed to slammed into him like a freight train. “Fuck…” he muttered, unable to tear his eyes away, his smirk gone, replaced by shock and defeat.
Jake laughed, a low, triumphant growl. “See that, Mark? You’re fucked. You’re mine now.” He stepped closer, cock still in hand, hard and menacing. “First things first, get on your knees. I want you to lick this bad boy like a lollipop. Then you’re gonna suck it. Show me how good you can be, buddy.”
Mark shook his head, panic gripping his chest. “No fucking way, man, I’m not… I’m not a fag. I’m not sucking your dick, you prick!” But his eyes betrayed him, locked on Jake’s cock, massive and intimidating. He couldn’t stop staring, and Jake noticed.
“Oh, look at that,” Jake said, amused. “You’re saying no, but your eyes are telling a different story. You like it, don’t you? Just a little. Come on, admit it.” He stepped closer, his cock inches from Mark’s face. “Tell you what. I could call off the bet, delete the video. But first, I want a little win. I’m gonna rub my cock all over that pretty face of yours, nice and slow. Agree to that, and maybe I’ll let you off the hook. What do you say?”
Mark’s face burned, overwhelmed by humiliation. He stood frozen, jeans still down, repulsed at the thought of letting another man use him. Yet, something was off: the disgust wasn’t as strong as it should’ve been, tangled with a confusion that scared him. And then there was the video, holding him hostage. “Fuck you…” he muttered, voice breaking. “Fine. Do it. But then we’re done.”
Jake placed his hands on Mark’s shoulders, gently but firmly guiding him to his knees. Mark barely resisted. On his knees, he found himself face-to-face with another man’s cock, just inches away. It was overwhelming, its presence crushing him.
Jake grinned, satisfied. “Good boy.” He stepped closer, grabbing his cock and slowly rubbing it across Mark’s face. The hot, hard flesh slid over Mark’s cheek, leaving a wet trail of precum. Mark clenched his teeth, eyes squeezed shut, trying to block out the sensation, but it was undeniable. Jake took his time, dragging his cock across Mark’s forehead, nose, and lips, savoring every second of Mark’s humiliation. Unseen, with Mark’s eyes closed, Jake pulled out his phone and recorded the scene, his cock painting the face of the cuckolded husband like a brush on a canvas.
“See? Not so bad,” Jake taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. “You look like you were made for this.” Mark didn’t respond, his mind reeling, disgust mixing with something darker, something he couldn’t name. Jake’s fluids smeared across his face, the musky scent filling his nostrils, pushing him deeper into confusion.
Then, Jake paused, pressing his cock against Mark’s lips. “One last thing, and we’re done. Open your mouth just a bit and stick out the tip of your tongue. Do it, and we’ll wrap this up quick. Come on, Mark, don’t make it hard.”
Mark hesitated, his heart pounding. He was confused, disgusted, but overwhelmed. He thought it would end. Against all reason, he parted his lips slightly, the tip of his tongue poking out. Jake didn’t waste a second, rubbing his cockhead against Mark’s tongue. The contact was electric, the salty, foreign taste hitting him like a slap. Mark stiffened but didn’t pull away, his mind short-circuiting as Jake chuckled.
“There you go, good job,” Jake said, smug as hell. “You’re getting the hang of it, huh? Don’t worry, keep going. Stick that tongue out a bit more, and we’ll be done soon.”
Mark stayed there, on his knees, face smeared, tongue still touching Jake’s cock. Jake moved his cock, guiding it along Mark’s tongue, relishing the control. He wanted a full-on tongue job, but he knew he had to go slow to keep Mark from bolting. Meanwhile, he’d recorded everything. Mark, whether he liked it or not, was completely at his mercy.
Thank you for taking the time to read this first chapter of this story.
........ I continue with chapter two?
