Aftermath
The steam had cleared, leaving the bathroom air cool and heavy with the scent of sandalwood and the lingering, muskier aroma of sex. We dried each other off with a tenderness that felt vital, necessary, our movements slow and deliberate, as if reassembling the pieces of us that had just been scattered across the apartment.
I led Chris by the hand to the bed. The sheets were a lost cause, a tangled, damp mess at the foot of the mattress. We pulled the fresh duvet from the top shelf of the closet and spread it out, a clean slate. We collapsed onto it side-by-side, not speaking, just staring at the ceiling. My arm was around him, his head on my shoulder, his damp hair cool against my skin. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was full. So full of things that needed to be said.
I was the one to break it, my voice a raspy thing. “So.”
He shifted, tilting his head to look at me. “So.”
“That was… a lot.”
A soft, breathy laugh escaped him. “Understatement of the century, J.” His fingers traced idle patterns on my chest. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I’m… a lot of things. My head is spinning. I am still processing it all.” I turned onto my side to face him, propping my head on my hand. “What about you? Be honest. What did you… what did you think?”
He was quiet for a moment, his blue eyes searching my face, and I saw the captain of the swim team assessing the situation, choosing his words with care. “First, the positive. I liked how… consuming it was,” he began, his voice low. “With you, it’s love. It’s intense and amazing, but it’s us. It’s safe because I trust you and I love you. With him… there was no safe. There was only the moment. The pure, raw physicality of it. He just… took. And a part of me, a part I don’t usually let out, really loved being taken like that.”
I nodded.
“And it turned me on like crazy to know how turned on you were by watching us. I know the look on your face when you are getting close to cumming. It looked like you were edging yourself the entire time.”
“Oh, hell, I sure was. Fuck, Chris, I loved watching you being taken like that. It was everything I’ve ever fantasized about and more. It was electric. The way you moved, the way you responded to him—it was like seeing you in a whole new light. And fuck, you looked so… sexy. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. Every moan, every shudder, every time he made you beg—it made me jealous, but it turned me on so much, and I didn’t want it to end.”
Chris’s breath hitched, his blue eyes darkening at my confession. His fingers, which had been tracing gentle patterns on my chest, stilled for a moment before pressing more firmly into my skin, as if anchoring himself.
He swallowed hard, his gaze locking onto mine. “Jesus, J, I could feel your eyes on me. Every time he pushed me, every time I moaned… I knew you were there. I could hear your breathing, quick and shallow, and it drove me wild. I wanted to look at you, to see how much it was affecting you, but I couldn’t. He wouldn’t let me. And that made it even hotter.”
His hand slid down to grip my thigh, his fingers digging in slightly as though mirroring my earlier touch. “Do you know what it felt like, knowing you were the one who gave him permission? That I was only there because you allowed it?” His voice dropped to a whisper, raw and vulnerable. “It was like… like I was completely his, but only because you wanted me to be. And that made it so much more intense. Like I was caught between the two of you, torn apart, but in the best way.”
His lips brushed against my ear as he leaned in closer, his breath warm and uneven. “And when he made me cum,” he continued, his voice trembling, “I could feel how turned on you were. I could feel it in the way you were breathing, the way you were practically shaking. It was like… like you were inside me, J, feeling everything I was feeling. And I loved it. I loved knowing how much it was fucking with you.”
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes again, his expression open and unguarded. “But you have to know something,” he said softly, his thumb stroking the inside of my thigh. “As much as I loved it—as much as I loved being his—it was still you holding me together. You were the one keeping me here in this moment with him.” His voice cracked slightly, emotion spilling over. “You’re the one who makes it safe for me to lose myself like that.”
I could see the honesty in his eyes, the vulnerability, and it hit me like a punch to the chest. My throat tightened as I pulled him closer, our foreheads touching. “Chris,” I whispered, my voice rough with emotion. “You don’t have to say that. I know it’s complicated. I know it’s messy. But I love you. And as long as you’re with me, I’ll always be your anchor.”
He nodded, his breath mingling with mine, and for a moment we just stayed there, wrapped up in each other, the weight of everything we’d shared hanging heavy in the air between us.
I paused, letting the weight of the moment settle between us, thick and unshakable. “It wasn’t just about watching you with someone else,” I began, my voice low and gruff. “It was about the surrender. The way you gave yourself to him, completely and utterly. It was visceral, Chris. Visceral. Seeing you let go like that—watching how he took control, how he made you submit—it was… intoxicating. You were always mine, but in that moment, you were his. And somehow, that just made you feel even more like mine.”
His breath hitched, his eyes locked on mine, wide and searching.
“Do you know what it felt like?” I continued, my hand tightening on his thigh. “It was like I was seeing this raw, unfiltered version of you—one that trusted me enough to let go, to give in. Watching you surrender to him was the most possessive thrill I’ve ever felt. Because even as he had you, even as he was taking you, I was the one who put you there. I was the one who gave him permission. And that… that made it mine. Everything you did, every sound you made, every way you responded to him—it was all for me. Because I allowed it.”
Chris’s lips parted, his chest rising and falling faster now, and I could see the way my words were sinking in, cutting through him.
“You were his,” I whispered, leaning in closer, my voice trembling with intensity, “but only because I wanted you to be. And that… that made it the most intimate fucking thing we’ve ever shared. Watching you give yourself to him only made me want you more. It only made me hungrier.”
He shuddered, his fingers gripping my arm like an anchor, and I knew he felt it too—the raw, consuming truth of what we’d done. What we’d shared.
My voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. “I’ve never felt anything like it. And fuck, Chris… it’s all I can think about now.”
“What else did you like?”
“It was so hot to see you take a dick that big,” I said, my voice low and thick with desire. “But what really got me was the way he controlled it all. He didn’t just let me prepare you—he made me do it. Every move, every touch, it was like he was orchestrating it, demanding that I get you ready for him. I could feel his eyes on me, watching, making sure I did exactly what he wanted. And when he made me guide his cock to you… fuck, Chris, it was like he was claiming both of us. He wasn’t just fucking you—he was showing me who was in charge. It was so fucking intense, so erotic, and I couldn’t do anything but obey.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving mine. His hand stilled on my chest, resting there as if to steady himself. “I… I loved how he took control of me,” he began, his words careful, measured. “And I loved how he used you too. How he made you part of it. The way he commanded you, made you prepare me for him—it felt like he was claiming us both. And… fuck, Jason, it made me want him more.”
The air between us thickened again, heavy with the heat of our shared memory. Our bodies had responded instinctively—both of us hard, restless, aching. Chris’s eyes, usually so bright and playful, were dark now, intense, searching mine. His fingers traced my chest again, but this time it wasn’t idle. It was deliberate, laden with something unspoken.
“There were bad parts, too, J,” Chris began, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. He paused, his teeth grazing his lower lip as if searching for the right words. “I didn’t like seeing you hurt. That flicker in your eyes when he made you ask those questions… that was hard to see.” His hand stilled on my chest, and I could feel the tension in his fingers as they pressed lightly against my skin. “It’s not just that it hurt you—it hurt me too, knowing I was the reason you were feeling that way.”
I nodded, the memory a fresh sting. “It hurt. God, it hurt. Both when he asked the questions, and when you answered them.”
“J, I’m so sorry. I . . . “
“Ssshhh. It’s okay,” I said, putting my finger to his mouth.
“It hurt when you said it, Chris,” I began, my voice trembling slightly as the memory resurfaced. The words felt heavy in my mouth, like they carried more weight than I could bear. “Hearing you admit that… it stung. It really did. And not just because it was true—his dick is bigger than mine. It’s bigger than yours. Hell, it’s bigger than that Chaturbate guy we watched the other night.” I let out a shaky chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, but it fell flat.
I paused, swallowing hard, my fingers tracing idle patterns on the duvet as I gathered my thoughts. “But what really got to me wasn’t just the comparison. It was the way it made me feel… small, in every sense of the word. Like I wasn’t enough. Like I couldn’t give you what he could. And yet… fuck, Chris, it also turned me on so much I thought I’d black out.” My voice dropped to a whisper, the confession spilling out before I could stop it. “It’s this… conflict inside me. This push and pull between feeling hurt and feeling this intense, almost primal desire. Because even though it hurt to hear you say it, there was something undeniably exciting about it too. Something raw and unfiltered that I couldn’t ignore.”
My eyes searched his face for understanding. “Do you get what I’m saying? It’s like… part of me hated it, but another part of me was completely consumed by it. Like I was watching you slip away from me, but at the same time, it only made me want you more. Does that make sense?”
Chris was quiet for a moment, his blue eyes soft but intense as they studied me. He shifted closer, his hand resting on my chest again, warm and grounding. “It makes sense,” he said finally, his voice low and steady. “And J… for what it’s worth, I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re not enough. Because you are. More than enough. What happened with him… it was intense, but it didn’t change how I feel about you. If anything, it made me see how much I need you. How much I need you to be my anchor.”
His words hit me like a wave, washing over me and pulling me under. I nodded slowly, my throat tight with emotion. “I know. And I love you for that. But… fuck, Chris, this whole thing has opened up something in me that I don’t think I can close. It’s messy and complicated, but it’s also… addictive. And I don’t know if I’m ready to let it go.”
The air between us hung heavy with unspoken truths, our bodies pressed together in the quiet aftermath of our shared vulnerability.
"It’s hard to put into words," I murmured, my voice unsteady as I tried to articulate the storm inside me. "It wasn’t just about him fucking you. It was about the power. The way he took you from me, right in front of my eyes—it was intoxicating. Like he wasn’t just claiming you; he was claiming me too. Humiliating me, dominating me… and fuck, Chris, it made me feel alive in a way I can’t explain."
I paused, my breath hitching as I struggled to keep the flood of emotions in check. "It’s like this… this twisted addiction. The more he pushed me, the more he made me submit, the more I craved it. It’s messed up, I know, but there’s something so raw about it. Something that pulls at the deepest, darkest parts of me and won’t let go."
My hand tightened on his thigh, anchoring myself as I looked into his eyes. "Watching him with you… it wasn’t just jealousy or pain. It was this strange, exhilarating high. Like I was both losing you and holding onto you tighter than ever. It’s confusing, it’s overwhelming, and… fuck, I think I’m addicted to it. This kink is so messed up."
“It is definitely complex, but I wouldn’t say it’s messed up," Chris said, his voice steady but soft. “Getting dominated—it’s primal. It’s not just in your head; it’s in your body too. Like when you take control with me, J, and I feel this rush, this heat that starts in my chest and spreads everywhere. My heart races, my skin gets hot, and I can’t think straight—I can only feel. It’s like this deep, almost animalistic part of me wakes up, and all I want is to let go. To surrender.”
Chris was looking me directly in the eye.
"When I’m on my back, with my legs spread and completely exposed, it’s like I’m giving you every part of me—no walls, no defenses. And when you’re looking into my eyes, it’s not just about the physical connection. It’s about the way you hold that power over me, how you make me surrender everything. There’s no hiding, no pretending. I’m yours, utterly and completely, and that vulnerability… fuck, it’s the hottest thing in the world. It’s like I’m laying myself bare, trusting you to take control, and knowing that you’ll push me exactly where I need to go."
His words settled over me like a warm blanket, easing some of the tension in my chest. “Chris,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “ You don’t feel like I demeaned or disrespected you? That I liked watching him with you? That I wanted it to keep going?”
He shook his head slowly, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes as his lips curled into a playful smirk. “No, Jason. I don’t think any of that,” he said, his voice light but deliberate. “I think it’s us. It’s who we are together. I mean, come on, how many mountains have we climbed? How many insane extreme vacation adventures have we dragged each other into? You know us—we’re explorers. We don’t just dip our toes in; we dive headfirst.” He tilted his head, his tone teasing but tender. “And as long as we’re honest with each other, as long as we keep talking about it… then it’s not wrong. It’s just… ours. Messy, complicated, crazy hot ours.”
His fingers traced a lazy circle on my chest, and he added, his voice dropping to a low, playful whisper, “Besides, let’s be real—if anyone’s going to get me to try something wild, it’s always going to be you. You know I can’t resist when you get that look in your eye. And honestly? I wouldn’t want to anymore.”
The teasing lilt in his voice softened the weight of the moment, and I couldn’t help but smile back at him, feeling the tension melt away. “You’re impossible,” I muttered, shaking my head, though my heart swelled with affection. “But you’re right. It’s ours. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”
“There is one thing I need to know, Chris. Why Max? Why did you choose him, of all people? I know you think he’s hot, but why my biggest rival? Why the guy that gets to me every time I see him?”
“Jason, it had to be to Max.”Chris paused, his eyes searching mine. “It would not have worked the same way with anyone else.”
“Are you that into him?”
“I am totally into Max,” he said, his voice steady but soft, like he was choosing each word carefully. “But choosing him was as much about you and him as it was about me and him. You’re one of the most competitive people I know, Jason. It’s in your blood, it drives you, pushes you to your limits. On every team, in every job, you create a rivalry—it’s like you need that tension, that spark, to feel alive. And Max… Max has always been that spark for you. He’s not just some guy; he’s your rival, your foil. He’s the one who gets under your skin, who makes you question yourself, who pushes you to be better, faster, stronger.”
Chris paused, his blue eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my chest tighten. “Max isn’t just a physical presence for you—he’s a psychological force. Think about it: Every time he’s in the room, you’re on edge. Every time he speaks, you’re listening harder than anyone else. Even when you hate him, you can’t ignore him. And that’s why it had to be him.”
His fingers traced a slow, deliberate line down my arm, grounding me as he continued. “When we were together with him tonight, it wasn’t just about me and Max. It was about you and him too. The way he dominates, the way he takes control—it’s not just physical power. It’s mental. He’s playing with you, Jason, and you let him. You let him because deep down, you crave that challenge. That’s why it worked the way it did. That’s why it had to be Max.”
His words hung in the air between us, heavy and undeniable. My heart pounded in my chest, the truth of it sinking in like a knife. Chris was right. Max wasn’t just some guy I hated—he was the shadow I couldn’t escape, the mirror that reflected all my insecurities back at me. And tonight, he hadn’t just taken Chris—he’d taken me too, in every way that mattered.
“You’re right,” I nodded. “Tonight would not have felt this way if we had found some stranger on Sniffies. But, fuck, it made me feel so jealous.”
“Yeah, that was real,” Chris nodded, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles on my chest. “And even when you were jealous—when I could see that fire in your eyes—you held my arms back and watched. You let it happen. You didn’t look away, didn’t stop it. You let him take control, let him dominate me, and in doing so, he was dominating you too.” His voice dropped lower, the weight of his words pressing into me like a physical force. “That power dynamic—him over me, and him over you through me—it was intoxicating. It was raw, unfiltered, and it pulled us both into something deeper than we’ve ever gone before.”
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear, and I shivered at the intimacy of it. “But here’s the thing, Jason. Even in that moment, when he had all the control, you were still the one holding me down. You were still the one choosing to let it happen. And that? That made it ours. It wasn’t just him taking me—it was us giving him that power, together. He didn't know it, but he was our pawn, creating our adventure for us."
“Well, as a cocky, unbearable asshole, Max sure knew what he was doing. He knew how to push both of our buttons."
“And how to give both of us the most intense orgasms of our lives,” Chris smiled.
I let out a shaky breath, his words sinking deep into my bones. “You’re right,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. “It was messy and complicated and fucking intense… but it was ours. And I wouldn’t change a damn thing.”
Chris smiled softly, his hand resting on my chest, right over my heart. “Neither would I. Tonight was about our trust, our love, and our kink all tangled together in the most intense, fucked-up, beautiful way.”
His words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning. The truth was undeniable: the power had shifted between us, but it hadn’t broken us. Instead, it had bound us tighter, pulling us deeper into the complexity of who we were together.
A wave of something powerful—possessiveness, pride, awe—washed over me. I kissed him, hard and deep, pouring all my conflicted, roaring emotions into it. When we broke apart, both of us were breathing heavily.
“Tell me,” I whispered, my forehead resting against his. “Tell me what you feel for me. Right now.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Max definitely owned my ass tonight,” he said, his voice firm and clear, his eyes holding mine with an intensity that left no room for doubt. “But you own my heart. Tonight. And every single night.”
The words settled deep in my soul, a balm on the raw, excited nerves he and Max had exposed. I believed him. Completely.
“I want to do it again,” I heard myself say, the confession shocking me as much as it seemed to shock him. “Not… not now. But… again. Sometime.”
A brilliant, beautiful smile spread across his face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. But… only if we’re together. Always. We talk about everything. Every weird feeling, every pang of jealousy, every dirty, turned-on thought. No secrets. We go into it together, and we come out of it together.”
“Always,” he agreed, sealing the promise with another kiss, this one softer, sweeter, full of a future we were choosing to build. His hand slid down my chest, over my stomach, and his fingers dipped below the waistband of the towel still wrapped around my hips. His touch was electric, a spark on tinder-dry skin.
My own hands found their way to his body, roaming over the familiar landscape of his back, his shoulders, the perfect curve of his ass. The duvet was a soft barrier between us and the world, a private cocoon where the only things that existed were his breath on my neck and the increasing urgency of our touches. Towels were loosened, then discarded, falling to the floor beside the bed.
We were naked together again, but this was different. This was reclamation. This was us. I rolled on top of him, settling between his legs, feeling the length of my body align with his. The heat of him was a furnace, stoking the embers Max had left behind into a new, different fire. This one was ours alone.
We were too tired, too spent, to actually fuck, but our bodies still sought each other’s warmth, our mouths still whispered secrets in the dark. We kissed for what felt like hours—gentle brushes of lips, passionate embraces, playful nips that made us both smile even in our exhaustion. And between those kisses, the words poured out, soft and raw, binding us tighter than any physical act ever could.
“I’m yours, J” Chris murmured against my mouth, his voice barely audible but steady, like a vow. “No matter what happens, no matter who else is there… it’s you.”
His words sent a shiver through me, and I tightened my arms around him, pulling him closer. “And you’re mine,” I whispered back, my lips grazing his cheek before finding his ear. “No one else gets this part of you. Not really. They might have your body for a moment, but your heart? That’s mine. Forever.”
Eventually, the words faded, and we lay there in silence, our bodies tangled, our breaths syncing. The weight of the night pressed down on us, but it wasn’t oppressive—it was grounding. We were two people who had crossed into uncharted territory together, and now we were back, a little bruised but still whole.
Chris’s hand found mine under the duvet, his fingers threading through mine. “We’re okay, right?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady.
I turned my head to look at him, his face soft in the dim light. “We’re more than okay,” I said, squeezing his hand. “We’re us. And nothing’s going to change that.”
He smiled, small but genuine, and shifted closer until our foreheads touched. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”
“You’d better not,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and unhurried.
Sleep pulled at the edges of my consciousness, but I fought it for a moment longer, wanting to savor this—him, us, the quiet aftermath of something so raw. When I finally let my eyes close, it was with the knowledge that whatever came next, we’d face it together. Messy, complicated, and ours.
The last thing I felt before drifting off was the warmth of his hand still in mine. Always.
