But Just Pretend, Right? Pt. 01

Too scared and humiliated to have to react to such an extreme scene, I was lying on the couch with my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep, listening to my girlfriend giving her friend a handjob.

I was on my side, facing into the dim living room, and they were basically right below me on the floor. He kept letting out this disgusting grunt against the fleshy rustling of his dick being jerked under their duvet. I wondered, painfully, if anyone else in the room had woken.

It was too much to acknowledge what was happening. To climb out of the sleeping bag, waking everyone up, get dressed. To have to confront Henry and Clare. I would have to grit my teeth and get through this.

I doubted I would ever sleep again, let alone this night. As soon as they fell asleep, I would get out of there and wait for the buses to start running. I wanted to cry, but had to stay quiet.

I could hear Clare panting a little, and Henry's grunts were getting harder. I peeked between my eyelids. In the dark, I could see the shaking bump of her hand in the duvet that covered them.

"Are you going to come, already?" whispered Clare impatiently.

"Take off your clothes," came his gruff reply.

Clare sighed, but then I saw her sitting up. The duvet fell back and Henry's broad, hairy chest was visible. My eyes went instinctively down, but luckily his penis remained covered.

She looked at me as she started to unbutton her shirt. I closed my narrowed eyes, degraded. When I squinted again, she was slipping her shirt off her shoulders.

Her body shone in the darkness, looking so delicate next to his dark torso. She'd never looked so beautiful. The image of innocence, doing something so wrong. Reaching under the covers, she wriggled at their feet, and then pulled the duvet back over them.

She gasped. "Not so hard. They're sensitive. Yeah, like that."

I could see movement as she started to beat him off again, and closed my eyes.

She giggled. "Okay, okay." I listened to them rearranging.

My insides were cold as I heard a low, wet suckling. It was quiet, softened by something, but totally distinguishable. I had to get out now, to break this up. But the truth was, I couldn't.

I was disgusted to concede it, even to myself, but with the damp, muffled sound and slight gasps for air, I could no longer hold back and with a releasing tensing off my prick, it was straining like a piece of steel.

This erection wasn't going anywhere. The situation was debasing already, but there was no way I could stumble out of this sleeping bag in my boxers now. The two of them, and anyone else who woke up, seeing my Olympic stiffy, my girlfriend and another guy naked at my feet.

I opened my eyes a little, and felt a sick lurch in my stomach. The duvet was bobbing at his crotch, the rest of her body under the cover too. While he lay back, bare chested. His eyes closed. I was petrified that he would look at me, catch me watching.

Clare gagged a bit, sparking a shudder along my spine. It was a sound I had never heard from her before. God, he had to come soon. It revolted me that I was praying for my girlfriend to take a mouthful of this guy's sperm, but it had to be over soon. I closed my eyes again.

There was shuffling as they moved, and then I heard her breathing out in the open.

"Fuck," she said, hushed. "I can't keep doing that. It's hurting my mouth."

They were rearranging themselves again. There was a lot of motion now. Feeling sick, my hand had found my prick, unable to control myself, and I was silently rubbing the head in short jerks with my thumb and index finger.

I could hear a lot of movement. I looked, and saw him on top of her, the cover over them. Her skin was so white below him. With her head at his neck, his face turned away, I could look fully without being seen.

For the first time, I was more than peeking, as I edged myself towards climax, telling myself that I would stop before I came. The two of them were breathing heavily below me, adjusting. She could so easily open her eyes and glance towards me.

And then she let out a shocked exhale of air, and he grunted loudly.

"Oh," she whispered, her voice so soft. "Gently."

I was starting to leak come onto the inside of my boxers. But I kept up my slow, silent masturbation as I watched Henry start to increase the drive of his hips.

I could hear a wet pumping that was unfamiliar to me. Almost like the sucking of her mouth before, but thicker, a deeper noise.

"Oh," she exclaimed again, but not whispering. The duvet was slipping off. I could see her legs on either side of him. My boxers were soaked.

He let out a long, hoarse exhale and she gave the slightest of screams as she dragged her nails down his back. He started to slow, and the room got unnervingly silence.

I was still stiff, but had to stop touching my wet privates in case they heard, without their sounds to hide it. I eased my hand out of my boxers.

He was rolling off of Clare, and I quickly closed my eyes. I could hear the two of them getting dressed, not speaking.

I did manage to get some sleep, after two or three hours. And after I had ejaculated a few more times once I was certain Clare and Henry, and anyone else, must be asleep.

When I woke the next morning, exhausted and devastated, I looked down to see Clare sleeping on her own. I lay for a while, replaying the previous night in my head. Until eventually I had heard each of the other people in the room get up, get dressed and leave.

I sat up on the couch, feeling like I had dreamed the previous night. How could I possibly confront Clare about what had happened? How could I admit that I had seen and done nothing about it?

I heard her whisper "Oh. Gently," as he entered her in front of me. I could never tell anyone I had witnessed that, ever.

I would need to wait a day or two, act like nothing was wrong. And then tell her that someone had told me what had happened. It would be hard, she would deny it.

I got down onto the floor next her, Henry's spot, and felt so violated and confused. I pulled the covers over myself, so that I could quietly massage my prick, but she was starting to wake up.

It was frightening, staring into her beautiful, innocent face. Her big, brown eyes meeting mine.

"How did you sleep?" she asked.

"Okay. What about you?"

"Yeah, I slept fine." She looked about the room. "No one here?"

"No."

"Henry?"

Under the covers, I was rubbing my erection. "I guess he left." I felt some wetness at my fingertips and stopped. "How was it sleeping next to him?"

"Fine. I mean, we both fell straight sleep. Hardly noticed him."

"I had a strange dream," I said, nearly stammering.

A look of concern flashed into her eyes for the first time, and then vanished. "What was it?"

"I dreamt that you and Henry were fucking on the floor-" My voice cracked. "-here."

"While you were on the couch?"

"Yeah," I said softly. And then added, before I could stop myself, "I liked it. In the dream."

"You did?" she asked, interested.

"In the dream, yeah."

"Like a cuckold kind of thing? Is that something you would like to explore?"

Even though I had let go of my prick, I had to keep from gasping as I felt a tiny spurt of semen come out the end. She must have seen my body jerk in response to her words.

"No," I said. "I mean as a dream, or like a fantasy, it was... I don't know. It's painful to think about. But my body reacts to it..."

"Your body? Oh," she said, realising what I meant. I jumped as her hand brushed my crotch.

"Oh wow," she said, giggling at me. "I see what you mean. It really turns you on? The idea of me being with another man? Show me."

"I don't think so," I said, mortified, starting to panic about entering into this.

"Come on," she said. "Don't be a tease." And she pulled back the covers, revealing my straining twig, the little wet stain on my underwear, as well as her long pale legs and her small pair of blue panties.

"Did you come yourself while we were talking?" she asked. She was wriggling a hand under my waistband and found my prick. "Oh yeah." Her thumb was rubbing the tip of my head. "Somebody got a little too excited."

She started to jerk me under the boxers, using her thumb and two fingers. I could feel her pinkie and ring finger bump at my balls. She was going slowly, so that I wouldn't come.

"So, you want to hear about it? Your dream."

"What do you mean?" I gasped.

"I'll tell you about Henry and me fucking while you slept." She had stopped her hand in time, as I convulsed, and I managed not to come.

"Okay," I uttered, knowing I was making a terrible decision.

She was going really slow now, giving just enough pressure and movement to keep me on the edge.

"Well," she began softly. "You had fallen asleep, everyone else had too. And Henry was lying where you are now. He was just in his underwear, and I'd caught a glimpse of his briefs before he got under the duvet. So I was already intrigued.

"He watched me as I took my bra off under my shirt, and pulled down my trousers. And then I got in close to him, and we were probably lying a bit too close. I kept my eye on you, but you really weren't moving at all, so I knew you were fast asleep."

She had stopped jerking me, just holding it between her thumb and fingers, pushing it straight up so the pressure hurt a little.

"And there was something so illicit about the idea of cuddling up to him with you right there." She started to move her hand. "I was pushing my body into his a bit, and he was definitely liking it.

"It started just as cuddling. He had his arm around me, and I was against his bare chest, and had a hand on his stomach. He's so strong, and big. And there was something about having you there next to us, him knowing I'm your girlfriend.

"Anyway, I reached down and started to feel him through his briefs. God, honey, it was so big."

I was starting to feel sick. I remembered the noise of her hand rustling under the covers too vividly.

"I'd never given such an exciting handjob in my life. I pulled it out, and he pushed down his underwear, and I started to jerk him properly, but under the duvet."

"Were you wet?" I panted.

"Oh my God, soaked. But he just would not come. So he asked me to get naked. I was a bit hesitant for a moment, but I wanted to make him come with you next to us so badly. I'd never wanted anything so bad.

"So I stripped off completely, right in front of both of you." Her hand had really slowed down now, and my balls were aching painfully. "He got to see my sweet little breasts, and my muff. The private bits that only you're supposed to be able to see.

"And I let him play with my tits and pinch my nipples while I jerked him off. But he still wasn't coming. And he kept motioning for me to go down on him. So eventually I was like 'What the fuck, why not?'

"So I went under the covers, and pulled his briefs down completely and off his feet. With my face at his crotch, I got a good look at his dick finally, and oh my God. It's a monster."

She was barely touching me, but I shot a little squirt into my boxers.

"Oops," she said. "I guess you like hearing about him? It was so heavy and dark in my hand. A real man's cock. And then I started to suck him and I could feel my pussy dribbling down my thighs. I was absolutely gushing. It was insane.

"If he had been licking me out, I would have came in a second. But he was still taking ages. And his cock was so thick, it was stretching my little mouth. So eventually, I had to come up for air. My chin was covered in saliva. I felt so dirty.

"And he was rolling me over onto my back. Well fuck it, I was totally up for that at this stage. His fat head was at my pussy almost immediately, and he was trying to get it in. Even though I was super wet, we were having trouble. Well, you know how tight I am."

She stopped to take a breath, obviously thinking back to the night before. And then continued again. "It was so amazing, having his dick poking against my hole while you were right beside us. I kept imagining you waking up, and not having the nerve to leave the room.

"Being too much of a coward to do anything to stop your girlfriend getting ploughed in front of you. And then his cock was entering me and it was too late.

"It squeezed through the tight mouth of my vagina, and he was penetrating me. It was happening. He was violating me right on the floor. He was pushing it further into me, getting deeper."

Her fingers were finally moving on my rigid dick. I felt come leaking out, but tried to hold back the main orgasm.

"And fuck," she said. "He reached parts of me you just physically can't. He was ramming his big thing right into my back wall."

I let out a groaning gasp as my body shook and dick twitched in her grasp, squirting my little load, hardly anything left by now.

"And the thickness... I've never been stretched like that. I still feel a bit loose."

She pushed the last drops of come out of my prick, and continued to massage my wet penis.

"I started to orgasm," she said. "Squeezing my cunt around his shaft. And I guess that did it. Because I finally felt him tense and he grunted, and I could actually feel his semen hitting my back wall and my cervix. You were lying right beside us while my friend emptied himself into me."

Over the next few weeks, in the context of it being invented, Clare would regularly tell me about her experience with Henry that night. It was always on my mind, and I was masturbating several times a day.

It was impossible for us to do anything sexual without me replaying in my head what I had seen and heard. And I had started coming so quickly whenever we had penetrative sex. Clare didn't seem to mind my premature ejaculation at all. In fact, she was enjoying it.

Whenever she jerked me off or put her hand around my dick, I was mentally comparing himself to how she had described Henry. But it was penetrating her that made me especially aware of how much I didn't stretch her out, how I couldn't hit the back of her vagina. And how easy it was for me to slip into her tight, wet hole.

Unable to think about anything else while I was inside her, I couldn't last more than a few minutes. And after I shot my load into her so abruptly, she would giggle and tease me.

I had a restless fear that Clare would say one evening that she was going over to Henry's. Or even come home late one night and tell me she had a new pretend experience to share.

I felt debased and filthy all the time, not strong enough to resist the illicit acceptance that I was worth nothing. I was sharing a house and bed with this woman, who appeared so sweet and kind, but who had cheated in front of me.

After she had relived her experience with Henry to me, she would sometimes ask me, excitedly, "So, were you watching?" "You were awake, weren't you?" or say "I know you heard us."

As much as I wanted to, I still just couldn't bring myself to admit that I had witnessed it happening and done nothing to stop it. Even if I had been going along with her like it was part of her story.

One fateful night though, I was on top of her, and had just pushed my prick into her little hole. As usual, I was imagining him stretching her, replaying her descriptions of how it had felt.

"Come on," she whispered. "You saw us, didn't you? You let it happen."

"No," I gasped.

"You did. You let him violate me." She was holding my hips so I wouldn't pump into her, staring into my face with her big, pure eyes. "You did nothing as someone stretched my pussy wide."

"Okay," I said, helpless. "I did."

"Oh my God," she screamed. "You admitted it!"

I came in her, groaning loudly, as she started laughing.

"Do you think you would like to take this fantasy a little further?" She asked, gently pushing me off her. "What if I went over to Henry's one night? And then I could message you, asking your permission to do stuff. And telling you what I was up to."

"But really only fantasy?" I asked. "Nothing actually happens."

"Yeah, it would be like testing the water for cuckolding. I'll pretend it's happening and you can see if you can bear it. Nothing I say will actually be happening."

I didn't answer, so she kept talking in her soft, excited voice.

"It's already pathetic to be too scared to interrupt me having sex. But for you to allow me to go over there... After what happened before. That would be so humiliating. And I'd message you while I'm sitting next to him, asking you if you want me to do all kinds of dirty stuff.

"And after I'd pretended to do it, I'd text you and tell you what it was like. And you can be sitting here in our bed the whole time, jerking yourself off alone. While you picture your girlfriend pleasuring another guy."

The next afternoon, maybe concerned I'd back out of it, I was shocked to hear she had already made plans to go round to Henry's that very evening.

"This is too sudden," I protested.

"Well, if it's going to happen, why put it off? Hey, and I want you to drive me to his house, and then pick me up later."

The rest of the day seemed to both crawl and race by. Every minute would be agony, as I sat at the computer, trying impossibly to get some work done. And then suddenly an hour would have passed.

"Okay," Clare said from the door to the living room. "It's nearly time." She was wearing a simple top, tight jeans, and had her hair back in a ponytail. She looked so sexy and relaxed, like this was nothing to her. "I still want you to drive me there."

And before I knew what was happening, we were in the car and she was putting his address into my phone.

"Okay," she said, giggling, and turned towards me from the passenger seat. She was so beautiful and pure. "From now on, we're playing the game. God, I can't wait to feel his big, heavy thing in my hand again."

I winced, knowing at least half of that was true. But I somehow still trusted Clare. What I'd seen from the couch that night seemed like a dream, it was so impossible. I wanted to wager this dangerous trust for Clare against my dignity being stripped from me completely.

I'd helped Clare build the lie around what had happened, and twist my self-worth up in the lie to such an extent that I couldn't go back now. It couldn't be untangled.

We parked in front of the address she'd given me, a low block of apartments set back from the street. She started undoing her jeans. She was pulling them down her thighs, her panties coming with them, stopping at her knees.

"He's going to see this tonight."

She raised her top to show her stomach. Her brown tuft of hair stood out strongly against her white stomach and legs, making her look so naked. I could see her lips. I couldn't believe she was sitting bottomless in public like this, not nervous at all that someone could pass the car and look in.

"This is my most private place. No one is supposed to see it but you. But I'm going to show it to him tonight."

I extended my unsteady hand, and put my fingers on her small, plump lips. She was hot. My index finger ran between her slick lips until I reached the opening.

"This is your little hole," she said softly. "It belongs to you. And next time you touch it it'll be stretched out, so loose. It won't feel like yours anymore."

I was speechless, watching as she pulled up her tiny panties and then her jeans, zipping up. My fingers were still wet. And then she kissed me goodbye, those big, honest brown eyes meeting mine before the car door shut.

I watched as she went into the building, and immediately my hand was rubbing at my hard penis through my trousers. Degraded, I massaged myself while I waited for her to text. Every few seconds I'd glance around to make sure no one was in sight.

My screen lit up from a message, beginning 'Hey, he's been laughing at you...' before being cut off.