((All characters were of legal age at the time of this story.))
I met my husband, Angel, when we were both sophomores in school. That’s not his name, of course, but it may as well be, considering that he saved me; and of all things, he saved me with the most amazing sex I’d ever had up to the night of our first time together.
I was the new girl in class, about to turn sixteen, and he was the best friend of one of my classmates. He also had a crush on me, but I didn’t know that. Back then, the classmate – Amos, as I’ll call him – was the only guy in school that I knew *for sure* had a crush on me, and that drew my codependent ass to him like a moth to a flame. He asked me to Homecoming with only three days to spare till the dance, and I said yes, and we started dating the night of the dance.
All was well for about four months, maybe five. We should’ve ended it before the six-month mark, but we didn’t, instead pressing on in the name of what we thought was love.
Eventually, Amos raped me. Then he hit me. Then he hit me again, then raped me again. Still, I stayed, because I was scared of being alone. I had already made friends with his friends, and I didn’t want to lose them because I gave him up, so I ended up moving in with him and his family two weeks after I turned eighteen. I was given the garage that they had converted into a giant bedroom, with a TV and a couch and a recliner and a bed all in the same space – trying to make up for the complete lack of any natural light. We had been together for two years at that point, and the next six months were absolute hell. He made sure I hated myself, doubted myself; made sure I was almost completely isolated from anyone who loved me or could help me. I wanted out, but I didn’t know how the fuck to get out. He had made sure he was my everything.
My only solace was my best friend, Angel. Angel had *some* idea of what was going on between me and Amos. He’d heard us fighting sometimes, and I often confided in him about things my boyfriend brushed off because “he didn’t feel like hearing me nag again.”
Unfortunately, being the therapist-friend meant that hardly anyone besides me checked on Angel. He fell into an intense depression, and one night, after a particularly hard shift at work, he came by the house for some comfort.
Amos wasn’t home, but it wasn’t unusual for Angel to come by when it was just me home. Over time, though the three of us were still mutual best friends, Angel had been growing closer to me as he drifted away from my boyfriend. We sat on the bed together, and we talked, and I hugged Angel through the worst of his turmoil, and eventually my boyfriend came home with our other friends, and they went out to the backyard to smoke some weed together. I followed, not wanting to smoke but not wanting to be left alone in the bedroom.
I don’t know when, exactly, I decided that what I was about to do would be okay. I had a boyfriend, but… *I wasn’t happy.* I knew he liked me, I knew he wanted me, and I *thought* I knew that he was too respectful of his best friend to ever act on his feelings for me. Nobody had to know, and I had done my duty in helping Angel feel better *emotionally*. What was wrong with a little distraction?
Having sat next to him made it easier, thankfully. In the dim orange light of the backyard fire pit, I reached over and put my hand on Angel’s knee, snaking it gently up his thigh. I felt him tense, then relax. He didn’t stop me, and I knew he was both sober enough and smart enough to stop me if he truly didn’t want me to do this. With minutes feeling like single seconds, I moved my hand further and further, constantly checking that we hadn’t been spotted, and eventually, I made contact with the now-hard bulge in his jeans.
*Holy fucking shit.*
He was *huge*.
Amos was only four inches, give or take. And I had seen a few friend’s cocks that were a good six inches, maybe seven. But Angel’s was big enough that it made me jealous of his past girlfriends, even knowing he was a virgin. Suddenly I was very angry at them – they had all fucked off without even sucking him off, and now that I knew he was *packing*, I couldn’t believe they had turned down such a heavenly cock. Slowly, I began to palm his throbbing erection, knowing the rest of the group was too high to care, or even take notice. It only lasted for a moment – I didn’t want to press my luck too much – but the look we shared together after I pulled my hand away told me that neither of us could believe I’d just done that.
I stood up and excused myself, and to my wonder, he followed after me. We made our way to the bedroom, thankful we were the only two in the house, and that was where things started to heat up a little.
“So, that was… *something,*” he said softly, watching me change out of my heavy sweatshirt and into a tank top and a lighter hoodie.
“Yeah,” I whispered softly. “Yeah, I figured… I figured you’d like a distraction, after – uh, after tonight.”
“Yeah,” he answered. “Thanks – thanks for that. Yeah.”
“Yeah.” Fuck, I’d made things awkward, hadn’t I? Blushing, I tried to move past him to leave the room – and he blocked me.
He stepped sideways, right into my path, his head bowed in thought, his dirty-blond hair falling perfectly around his face. Fuck, he was hot, but I shouldn’t be allowed to say that about my best friend, should I? I held my breath as he stood there, his presence suddenly that of a seasoned Dominant who knew he had his Submissive right where he wanted her. My pussy was already wet from touching him, and I could feel my panties soaking through as he silently debated what to say next. He was choosing his words very carefully, I could tell, and despite the sudden air of power, he barely made eye contact when he finally spoke: “Listen,” he said, “I don’t think I’m gonna be around much longer. I’ve barely got anything left. So… want to sit on my face?”
My heart nearly stopped.
“Wh-what?” was all I could stutter out, shocked.
“You heard me.” He shrugged, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. “Do you want to sit on my face?”
I almost couldn’t breathe. My heart was suddenly pounding hard enough that I was sure he could hear it, and my panties were completely soaked through, my juices dripping down my inner thighs. “I… um…” Fuck, I could barely speak. I wanted to say yes, I really did. I hadn’t had any action in weeks, and Amos *never* ate my pussy – said it was emasculating to go down on a girl. I could get eaten out *here and now*, and the thought of sneaking behind my abusive boyfriend’s back was honestly thrilling. I had done it once before, with a different man, and I had to admit that thinking of it less as cheating and more as revenge was *exhilarating*. “Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Cool,” he said decidedly, and moved towards the bed.
“Woah, woah, not right now,” I said quickly, suddenly anxious. “Not with everybody still out there!”
Angel thought for a moment, just *looking at me* with those handsome blue eyes, then nodded and followed me back to the bonfire in the backyard.
All I could think about for the rest of the night was Angel’s proposal. I sat there ruminating over it for God only knows how long, excited and nervous at the prospect of cheating again. Not a single thought was ever that I shouldn’t go through with it – I had decided that my asshole of a boyfriend deserved what I was about to do. He had made my life hell, and I deserved a small piece of heaven.
Eventually, the group dissipated. Our friends all went home, and my boyfriend went to bed, and it was just me and Angel in my bedroom. I had changed into a thin, short nightgown that barely covered my body, and I had opted not to wear any panties. Somehow, we ended up laying down together on the bed, and I was shivering. It wasn’t cold – I was nervous. Angel knew it, too, and his hand ghosted over my thigh as carefully as it could, testing where the boundaries were. I didn’t stop him, I didn’t *want* to stop him, but I was so goddamn *nervous*.
His touch was like the coldest ice and the hottest fire.
He had no qualms about reaching under my nightgown and letting one finger slide gently between my pussy lips, and I cursed myself for not shaving that day. He didn’t seem to mind, not for his first time. His finger slid back and forth over my clit, just feeling how warm and wet my pussy was. I knew I was the first one who’d ever let him touch or lick or fuck me, and the thought of it was both embarrassing and thrilling. I couldn’t look him in the eye, instead turning away and just enjoying the sensation of being touched for the first time in *weeks*.
A knock at the door startled both of us, and we jumped apart as fast as we could, just a moment before my boyfriend’s mom entered. “Hi, kids,” she said sweetly. Too sweetly. I hated her, honestly, and her fake Southern-bumpkin bullshit. She was just as toxic as her son. “Angel, you should be getting home soon if you’re not gonna spend the night. It’s three in the morning, it’ll be dark and you’ll be tired.” We nodded, but she kept going, and I wasn’t sure she’d ever fucking stop. “I know your house isn’t far, what is it, ten minutes? But it still won’t be fun to drive that at night, especially when you’re tired, okay? Okay, I’m going to bed, guys, goodnight.”
*Fucking finally.* Almost as soon as she was gone, and had shut the door, his fingers were on me again, this time with his middle finger diving into my needy, dripping hole. Fuck, it felt amazing. He was a taller guy, and his hands were perfectly masculine, his fingers long and skilled. He curled his middle finger just right inside of me, and I wasn’t quite sure how he knew to touch that spot, but I knew it felt fucking incredible. He started moving his finger in and out, adding another as he fucked my sweet cunt ever-so-slowly, and I was biting back moans now, knowing my boyfriend was in the next room over.
Angel suddenly stopped, and I glanced at him curiously. His face was set, like he was thinking about something. He turned to me, and there was an excited glint in his eye – then he pulled away from me, and laid himself flat on the bed. “Fuck it,” he said as he rearranged himself, “sit on my face.”
*Am I actually about to do this?* I asked myself, not sure if I was excited beyond all thought or panicked to hell. The world around me blurred together like a real-life oil painting, and suddenly it was just me and Angel in the mass of colors. Was I drunk? Was I high? No, just excited as I lifted up the skirt of my nightgown and mounted his face.
*I could’ve cum right then and there.*
It didn’t take long anyway, but I let myself enjoy what little my body could handle. *Never* had sex been about *my* pleasure, but Angel took his time with me, his tongue exploring all over my wet cunt. I stared down at him for a moment, using the hem of my skirt to cover the insecurities written across my face, and his perfect eyes glittered up at me with a prayer for me to use his face like a fucktoy. Shit, I would’ve, but my body was shaking so fucking bad that I didn’t think it was at all possible to buck my hips like he would’ve wanted. Unfortunately, I was stuck where I was, trembling over his face as he pushed his tongue as far as it would go inside of me, then dragged it up flat against my clit. I knew he’d watched face-sitting porn many times before this, and it felt like he was putting everything he’d seen to good use.
I almost didn’t trust my first orgasm. It wasn’t normal for someone else to make me cum – my boyfriend had never been able to do it, if he so much as cared – and I wasn’t used to being so close to that edge without using my own hands. But I couldn’t deny the knot in my stomach, growing tighter and tighter as Angel sucked gently on my clit. The words slipped out before I could stop them: “Fuck… fuck, Angel, *I’m gonna cum -*”
Up to that point, it was one of the most powerful orgasms I’d ever had. My whole body jerked over Angel’s face, and my thighs shook, and I had to bite down on my nightgown to keep myself from crying out. I was sure I’d drenched his face already, and he probably wanted me to stop now, right? I’d gotten mine, so *why did he keep going*?
My thighs were trembling on either side of his head, and I almost collapsed on top of him as another climax threatened me with screaming ecstasy. I fell forward a little, holding the hem of my nightgown between my teeth to keep myself quiet as I started grinding on his tongue. He just kept watching me with those perfect blue eyes, and I wanted nothing more than to give him a show he’d never fucking forget. I felt my clit throb against his tongue as I came again, gasping as I fought to stay quiet. My boyfriend was *right there* in the other room, he would definitely hear us if I was any louder than I was now. But *fuck*, Angel was making it difficult. Another one crashed over me before I could think, electricity sparking through my nethers and straight up to my face as I closed my eyes and let myself fall through bliss.
It took me a moment to steady myself, and I knew we were already testing our luck – I needed to stop before I screamed in pleasure and gave us away. And if the way he was still licking me through each orgasm was any sort of tell, Angel wouldn’t have stopped unless I made him.
I gently dismounted from his face, breathing heavily, feeling dazed and fuzzy all over. For a moment, I just looked at him as he sat up and wiped his face off. I expected him to beg me to let him fuck me. He’d want something in return, surely? But no, he just sat there in his own headspace, as if he was still processing that that had really just happened.
I was the first one to break the silence. “Um… do you – do you want me to blow you?”
“No.”
“I should return the favor.”
“I don’t mind. I liked that.”
Well, good to know he liked it, at least. My boyfriend had always said it was a disgusting chore that no “real man” would ever partake in. Glowing, still shaking, I glanced down and felt myself blush at the bulge in his dark jeans. I wanted to know how big he was. We’d had talks before, and he’d told me it was roughly six-and-a-half inches, but I wanted to see for myself. “At least let me give you a handjob,” I said softly. I desperately wanted to touch him, and it was surprisingly out of character for me to suddenly *want* to do these things. Amazing what a proper orgasm and a little attention could do to a girl, wasn’t it?
He thought about my offer for a moment, then nodded, leaning back against the headboard of the bed and undoing his pants. I watched intently as he unbuttoned, unzipped, reached in and pulled his length out into the open…
Fuck, he was big.
Now, Amos wasn’t the only one I’d been with. He was the only guy I’d had sex with, but I’d blown a few others. I knew Amos was small, and I’d been with a couple guys who were five or six inches. But Angel held seven inches *easily*, maybe eight, and I was suddenly very curious how it would feel inside of me. I kept my composure, however, knowing it would be dangerous to tempt the fates any more than we had so far. So instead of fucking him right then and there like I was so desperately craving, I reached out and wrapped my hand around his shaft, my breath catching in my throat as I felt him throbbing in my palm already.
He was thick enough that I could barely close my hand around him, but I started moving my hand up and down along his length anyway, watching in fascination as a bead of precum appeared on his tip, and his eyes closed as his head tilted back to enjoy my attention. He bit lightly on his bottom lip as I rubbed my thumb gently over the head of his cock, using the sticky substance to lube up my hand as I continued stroking him. Fuck, I’d never seen a dick this big in real life, and it was making my pussy wetter by the second. The sweet mess left behind by his tongue was still very present, and I was sure my juices would be dripping down my inner thighs by now, but I was so focused on his perfect cock that I didn’t even care about the mess I made.
I was never sure how long he lasted. He *must’ve* been worked up from earlier, and it felt like hours that I sat there stroking his thick, pulsing cock, but it must’ve only been a few minutes. Either way, I was so infatuated that it felt much too soon. His erection twitched in my hand, and I heard him let out a low breath that he must’ve been holding for a good moment now, followed by a gruff moan that made me want to swallow the load he was about to give me. He murmured “*Fuck*,” under his breath, and suddenly his hips jerked a little, and he was cumming in my hand. His cum spilled from his tip in an endless, enticing flow that made my jaw drop at the sight of it. I would’ve stuck my hand between my legs and rubbed myself to another orgasm just watching him, if I’d snapped out of my trance. But I was completely fixated on him, and the sight and sound and feeling of him cumming because of my measly little handjob.
When he finished, we cleaned up, and he muttered something about how we “shouldn’t have done that.” He was right, of course – I’d just cheated on my boyfriend with our *best friend* – but there was a glint in his eye that told me he was thinking the exact same thing I was. We shouldn’t have done it, no, but Jesus Christ, we were glad we did.
We never told anyone about that night, of course. We hardly spoke of it to each other. I was at least thankful that there was no sudden tension between us, and that Angel was still my best friend.
But life at home with Amos was still hard, and one time with Angel turned into another, and another. Suddenly we were best friends *with benefits*, sneaking around behind my asshole boyfriend’s back to have our little moments of fun together. As Angel visited more often, he discovered more and more about the boy he’d been friends with since middle school, and they began to drift apart. Angel later told me he knew he was in love when he started coming over for *me*, rather than Amos, and I knew I was falling in love too, but we didn’t say anything for a while, knowing it would just complicate things.
So for the next two months, every time he would come over, we would find a way to get a quick little hookup in. Amos would go to the bathroom and we’d spend our time making out on the bed before he came back. The asshole fell asleep in his recliner once while we were hanging out, and I let Angel lick my pussy right there on the bed five feet behind the fat bastard. We even used to call each other after everyone had gone to bed, and often got each other off over the phone before going to sleep, if we even slept at all.
I don’t remember how things escalated like they did.
One night in particular, I had yet another fight with Amos while Angel was visiting, and I stormed off to my bedroom while the guys stayed in the living room, resigned to sprawl out on the couches out there and watch TV until they felt tired. As soon as I slammed the door and threw myself on the bed, crying, my phone lit up. It was a text from Angel: *You okay? I can go if you guys want.*
Shit, no, I didn’t want him to leave. Anything but that. He was probably the only thing keeping Amos from coming after me and beating me again. I sniffled softly and texted him back: *No, stay. Please. I -* Fuck, did I dare? I don’t know what came over me, but I finished the text and hit send before I could second-guess myself. – *I need you.*
The text changed from *Delivered* to *Read*, and stayed like that for a few moments. Then another text came through: *Okay. Can I come check on you?*
I sighed, wishing he could, but I knew better. *Not right now, he’ll think something’s going on with us. Maybe just wait till he goes to bed.*
Another moment or two, then another ding. *Okay.*
Finally able to steady myself, I sat up and wiped my tears away. Fuck Amos. He was an asshole. Angel clearly appreciated me more than my own fucking boyfriend, so fuck it – I’d give him something more to appreciate, something else among the long list of things Amos refused to ever appreciate. With a deep breath, I glanced over to make sure the door was closed, then stripped naked and wrapped my blanket around myself, sitting on the couch to wait for Angel.
It felt like hours before Amos fell asleep. I felt my heart skip a beat when I heard a knock at my door, and I called out a feeble “Come in,” with a voice hoarse from not speaking since crying earlier.
Angel let himself in, and I felt my stomach turn over excitedly at the sight of his handsome figure in the doorway. He closed the door, and came to sit beside me on the couch. “You good?” he asked gently. I nodded, leaning into him, thankful that he’d never been afraid to hug me or cuddle with me. That was part of how I knew I was in love – despite being naked under the blanket, and wanting to suck him off like I had a couple times in the last few months, I was happy to just be here and enjoy his presence.
But *shit*, he made me horny.
He was hot enough that just being next to him had me wet, and the idea of yet another hookup was making me tremble with excitement. The foreplay was a blur – I remember that I stood up “just to stretch” and let the blanket fall into a soft fabric pool around my ankles, delighting in the way his eyes widened at my naked figure. He’d seen my tits, and he’d licked my pussy countless times, but he’d never seen me fully naked, and was clearly in awe. It was all the more exciting – as well as a massive ego boost for somebody who hated her body as much as I did. We just stayed there on the couch for a while, our hands roaming each other’s bodies as his tongue delved between my lips, trying to keep our little moans quiet so that nobody in the house would hear us. He was hovering over me now, with his shirt discarded towards the bed, and I’d managed to get his dick out into the open so that I could stroke him. He was rock-hard, and I wondered how long he’d been like that for – since he saw me naked, maybe, or sooner than that? Did the mere thought of us fucking around make him just as needy as it made me? Once again, the thrill of doing this while my boyfriend was in the other room was exhilarating, knowing he could walk in on us at any moment, and knowing that this was the sweetest revenge I could ever exact on him.
Tonight, however, was much different. Maybe it was because I was naked this time. Maybe it was because we were just that horny. Maybe it was just the natural progression of our sexual relationship. Whatever it was, anyone could argue that we definitely took it too far last night, and we both *fucking loved it*. It started with me looking up at him during a rare break in our little make-out, breathing low and heavy as I stroked his cock. “Do you wanna try just the tip?”
He laughed breathlessly, his head bowed as he let himself enjoy my hand on his erection. “You and I both know it won’t – *fuck* – it won’t be *just the tip*.”
I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth, my heart damn near ready to pound right out of my chest. “I’m okay with that,” I whispered, and he smiled at me – that damn smile that had me in love with both him and his perfect cock.
We rearranged so that I was laid on the couch with him right between my legs, my inner thighs glistening wet in the dim light of the TV. I knew Angel hadn’t been with any girls up to that point, so I didn’t expect much at first – I was just excited to feel him. We decided he wouldn’t need a condom if he was just going to feel it for a moment and then pull out, so with both of our bodies shaking, he lined himself up with my dripping cunt. The first few strokes, he missed the mark, but it still felt incredible to have his thick cock sliding back and forth over my pussy. With every gentle thrust, the head bumped against my clit before his shaft slid up over it, then dragged back down to send shivers through my whole body. Finally, his tip breached my entrance, and for half a second, we stayed there, relishing the feeling of each other.
Then he pushed in a little further.
The feeling of being stretched out by the first few inches of his dick was unmatched by anything I’d ever felt in there. Already, he was bigger than my piece-of-shit boyfriend, and he still had plenty more to give. I gasped as he pressed just a little deeper, glancing up at him to see his eyes shut tight and his mouth hanging open in a silent moan. I was the first pussy he’d ever fucked, and feeling him inside me had eradicated any sense of logic, any idea of “we shouldn’t be doing this”, in favor of just wanting him to *fuck me*. I pressed my hips up against him, gently, sliding a tiny bit more of him into my waiting hole, and he responded with a groan and another inch. Jesus Christ, I didn’t even have any *toys* that were this big. By the time he was buried to the hilt inside of me, I was sure his tip was right up against my cervix, and the feeling of it had me wondering what it would feel like to let him cum inside me. I knew it was risky, but goddamn, what I wouldn’t give to let him creampie me right then and there.
He pulled out almost all the way, then pushed back in again, then repeated the action, moving agonizingly slowly. I hated him for being so gentle when all I suddenly wanted was for him to pound me until I couldn’t think straight, but I loved him for letting both of us drown in the pure ecstasy of every sensation. Fuck, was I really having sex with my best friend? Yes, and it was absolutely euphoric.
He had enough self-control to stop, pulling out and saying something about a condom; I was never sure exactly what he’d said, as his voice sounded far away due to my mind still whirling, but I knew he’d probably said he wanted to put one on if we were going to continue. I nodded, and we moved to the bed, where I sat at the edge and just admired him as he unwrapped the little rubber circle. His cock was dripping with precum and my own pussy juices, and I couldn’t help myself from reaching forward and gripping his shaft again, stroking him as my eyes stayed locked on the wonderful specimen in front of me. Before I knew what I was doing, I leaned forward and took him into my mouth, and he groaned with pleasure, letting one hand tangle in my hair as I sucked him off.
He must’ve been overstimulated by that point, because too soon, his dick twitched against my tongue, and suddenly he was cumming straight down my throat, and though I loved making him feel this good, I was angry that I had let myself get too ahead of things. I’d been here before with Amos – Angel was about to discard the condom and put his clothes back on, and give me a quick “thanks” or “that was fun” before heading straight out that door and leaving me to my own devices.
I *really* needed to learn that Angel wasn’t like that.
His cock was still hard when I pulled away, and he smiled as he slid the condom on and gestured to the bed with a nod. “Lay down,” he said softly.
“What – you’re not done?”
“Did you get off?”
“Well… no, but -”
“Then I’m not done. Lay down.” My heart skipped a beat as he spoke. There was that little hint of dominance that I loved so much, that cool tone in his voice that said he *knew* he was in charge, he *knew* he had me wrapped around his finger. Silently, I moved back on the bed and spread my legs for him, and he crawled up on top of me. Another few moments where his cock slid back and forth over my pussy – then he pushed into me, this time as deep as he could go, not caring about going slow. I gasped, and the first few steady thrusts made me moan just a little too loud. His response was the press even deeper against me, threatening to plunge straight into my womb, and his eyes glittered as he looked into mine. “Hush, baby,” he breathed, and I had to cover my mouth with one hand to silence the obscene noises that could’ve given us away.
Every thrust was unadulterated bliss. His cock was hitting spots inside me I didn’t even know existed, and it took everything I had left to keep myself as quiet as possible. I couldn’t stop the occasional little moan here and there, not with his cock bumping my cervix every time he fucked into me, but I managed not to betray us. He was amazing for a virgin, fucking me at just the right pace and with just the right force to send me reeling with pleasure. The world around us seemed to dissolve – it was just the two of us now, and it felt incredible. I could feel my walls stretching around him, throbbing as I came closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. Already, I was aching to cum for him. I had gotten used to this feeling when I was with him – the tight knot forming in my lower belly, the way every nerve seemed to twitch under my skin as he continuously touched that ever-sensitive little bundle of nerves inside me…
The knot in my belly suddenly snapped loose, and my toes curled as I came. I didn’t scream, thankfully, but I let out a soft gasp that made him fuck me just a little harder, as if he liked the noise and wanted to hear more of it. He was perfectly in tune with my body, listening to every sound and watching every movement to see exactly what felt good and what didn’t. He was working tirelessly to make sure I had the time of my fucking life, and my God, did he *ever* succeed. I wrapped my arms around him and let myself disappear into the feeling of him, focusing on how I could feel every vein in his shaft, then the way his muscles rippled under my hands with every thrust, then the way his body fit perfectly on top of mine. One of my hands moved up to intertwine with his soft blond hair, and I had to bury my face against his shoulder as he gave me a particularly rough thrust, making the bed squeak a little under the force of it. Fuck, he was gonna be the death of me.
The third climax hit almost right after the second one, my pussy spasming around him as I fought to keep quiet. He was definitely having *way* too much fun making me moan like this, damn near giving us away to the entire fucking house, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it just as much. I had never felt so tended to, so cared for – he’d already gotten his, and his mission now was to make me cum over and over again.
He was getting tired, though, I could tell. I learned later that we’d been fucking for the tail-end of *two hours* now, though it never really felt like it. He was my first taste of sex for the hell of it, sex for pleasure, rather than having sex with the goal of orgasm in mind. My pussy was almost completely spent, too – I was sore and aching, but still wet and needy, wanting to have him inside me for as long as we could stand. He was fucking me harder now, faster, pounding me like I had never been before, and I was in absolute heaven. One last time, every muscle in my body began to tense, and my breathing stuttered as I closed my eyes to enjoy the feeling of it. Just a few more thrusts from that long, thick, *perfect* cock, and suddenly I was seeing stars behind my eyes as a flood of ecstasy lit every nerve on fire. He fucked me through the entire wave, his hips slowing as I came down gently from my high. I felt like I was floating, and the only thing that grounded me was his body collapsing on top of mine.
He pulled out of me, tossing the used condom aside somewhere, and for a moment we just laid there. I liked the feeling of his weight on top of me, and my hands moved absently to trace lines up and down his bare back. It was oddly intimate, and I had to blink back tears as I realized that I’d never experienced proper aftercare before. I even caught myself thinking, *shit, I might actually be in love*.
The only thing that pulled us apart was the sound of the door leading into my little garage-slash-bedroom.
We were lucky enough that there were two doors. One in the kitchen, leading to the laundry room, and then one from the laundry room into the garage, where I’d just taken my best friend’s virginity behind my boyfriend’s back. I heard the kitchen door before Angel did, and we scrambled to get situated as best as we could. I had no time to get dressed, so I dragged a blanket over my naked figure and pretended I was sleeping. Angel hurried to his feet, pulling his shirt on and pulling his pants up just a second short of Amos walking through the door to the garage.
“W’as goin’ on?” Amos’s voice carried groggily from the doorway. Shit, we must’ve woken him up.
Angel was smart, though. “I fuckin’ – I spilled some water and I came in here looking for a towel. It got on my fuckin’ pants.”
Amos muttered a soft, “Oh… okay. She’s naked, though.”
“Yeah, you mentioned she sleeps naked. I didn’t see anything so I thought I’d be fine.”
“Okay.”
Footsteps – then the door closed – then silence. I waited a moment before peering through my lashes to check that the coast was clear. Angel and Amos had both left the room, and I was alone with my pussy sore and my heart pounding at the risk of almost getting caught. Hell, we *had* gotten caught. Angel was just smart enough to trick the dumb bastard while he was still half-asleep.
It wasn’t long at all after that when Amos and I finally split. Hardly a week had passed, and I had told him I’d fallen in love with Angel, and I made my decision to leave. Unfortunately, during the process of me moving out, I was taken advantage of a few more times before I was truly free. But Angel made it all better in the end, and claiming him as my new boyfriend was a bliss I didn’t think I’d ever feel again. The cold sense of revenge I held over my ex was immensely satisfying, and we both agreed that he didn’t have to know for us to feel good about it. Had it been wrong to cheat? Of course. But when cheating on someone who was such an abusive dick, did it matter? Not in my eyes, and not in Angel’s. Angel was everything I’d ever wanted in a man, and we ended up getting married; he’s sitting next to me as I finish this story. And you know what?
He’s only gotten *better* at fucking me absolutely *senseless.*
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/10szf6j/he_doesnt_have_to_know_true_story_cheating_side
Nicely written and a happy ending. Amos is an asshole!
!updateme