Cuckquean Chronicles Pt. 02

Amy sending my boyfriend nudes had awakened something in me deep between my legs, and every night while I sucked him off, he'd swipe through profiles of other women on dating apps, sometimes turning the phone with its harsh light toward my face so I could see the beautiful, thin blonde woman he was about to swipe on. He loved the blondes most, and I'd take more of his cock in my mouth when I saw them, choking on it in ecstasy, my pussy dripping onto the bed or his legs below me. I'd crawl up to him after I'd hardened him in my mouth, and I'd position myself over him so I could swallow his penis between my thighs, filling myself up. He'd keep swiping, and sometimes I'd bury my face in his neck so that he could push my face out of the way, telling me I was blocking his view.

One day in the car, on the way back from getting a prescription, just a mundane day, he settled his hands with their long fingers on my thigh, and he said, "I've been talking to someone on tinder."

"Okay," I responded nonchalantly, but just the words heated up my slit, caused me to sit in a puddle immediately. I felt like a dog, the call and response was so strong.

"She got us a hotel room for the night, and I think I'm going to go." I tightened my fingers around the steering wheel. We hadn't talked about this part. It was happening so fast. I felt something tightening in my throat, but the anxiety wasn't stopping me from seeping all over my underwear. Just last night, we had been engaged in our new nightly routine, a routine that had awakened both our sexualities from the dead, but I wasn't sure I was ready to share him so intimately.

"You're going to go?" I asked, my head spinning, my skin like electricity.

"Yes." He was stroking my thigh as I drove, and I noticed he hadn't really asked my permission. He was telling me. He was going to go.

"When?"

"When we get home." I wanted to be angry that he'd made plans without me, that it'd gotten this far without my input, but I was too pathetic for that. Instead, I was soaking and buzzing. I was excited.

"You're going to leave when we get home?"

"If that's all right," he responded, retracting his hand. He was nervous about crossing my boundaries, but I also noticed that, in thinking I'd say no, he'd taken away his hand. To deny him this was to deny myself touch.

"Yes, that's fine." It was so robotic. It sounded like a contract between us. "You'll come home, though, right?"

"Of course, I'll come home. I'll always come home to you."

We got home, and as he'd said, he got into the driver's side, and he left. He left me home alone to deal with the emotions I was having by myself. I heard the car crunch through the rocks in the driveway, and then I knew he was on his way to fuck someone else, and he did it so effortlessly. He wasn't nervous about our relationship or the ways it was about to change. Or maybe he was but he wanted to fuck someone new so badly that he didn't care. Was I not good enough that he was willing to do it and that it only took him a couple of weeks to commit to this? He'd jumped on board so quickly, was so instantly excited. I had never sensed any hesitation in him after the first night. And to think -- getting him to fuck me before this had been a chore, something I'd have to beg for. All this girl had to do was message him she had a hotel room and he was willing and eager to plow inside her, to give her an all-night session the way I'd been asking for.

But these thoughts didn't ruin it for me. They made me hungrier. I went upstairs to my bedroom and got out my vibrator, titillating myself by running the vibe along my clit at the lowest setting, imagining everything he was doing to her. Maybe he was running his hands through her hair at this very moment or slipping a hand up her skirt. Maybe he had thrown her on the bed and was tasting her. I thought about the picture he'd shown me; she was smaller than me and he could easily throw her around, not like me. She was smaller. She was sexier.

After hours of making myself cum, it was getting late, and though I tried, I couldn't make myself fall asleep knowing where he was. I sent him a quick text, "Hey, how are you?" He didn't answer for another two hours, and I pictured him deep inside her pussy, unable to text back because he was busy pleasuring her. I pictured her legs wrapped around him, around my man, pulling his cock deeper into her canal. I couldn't help myself but to touch myself again. The vibrator now dead, I used my fingers to circle my entrance, my brain fully fuzzy with images of my boyfriend's dick in different positions. I sent my finger in and out of my hole, imagining myself in the room with them, condemned to only watch, just a little cuck whore who wasn't allowed to play.

"I'm going to stay the night if that's okay," he responded finally after hours, while I was sweating and sopping on the bed, and I texted back, "That's okay." Because it was. It was more than okay. It sent me into ecstasy somehow to think of them cuddling each other to fall asleep. It had gone beyond sex. It was intimacy. I had let my boyfriend be intimate with someone else, and he wanted more. He wanted more than her body. He wanted her next to him at night. I fell asleep, restless without his body next to me, and horny to have even a piece of what she had gotten.

He came home with two favors. One, he had brought breakfast from the hotel. He handed me the bag. But two, he had brought his cock. With the bag still in my hands, I watched as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his 8 inch dick, still thick with the thoughts of his debauchery, and he said something I never thought I'd hear.

"Be a good girl and suck her off of me. If you do a good job, I'll tell you all about it."

I got on my knees and gently took his dick in my mouth. As I tasted her quim, the strong scent wafted into my nose, and I realized for what wouldn't be the first time that he hadn't used a condom with her, that he'd been reckless for the sake of having sex with someone new.

"That's good. Do you taste her?"

"Mhm," I mumbled, sliding my lips farther down his shaft.

"She tastes good, doesn't she? She tastes better than you do, doesn't she?"

"Yes, sir," I gargled, unable to keep myself from deepthroating him. I wanted to taste how far down her juices went. I flitted my tongue along the base of his dick, and he moaned, resting his hands in my hair.

"When I got to the hotel, we didn't waste any time. She wanted me so badly. She was ready to go. I threw her on the bed and I ate her out. She has a really big clit, so it was easy to make her cum, not like you." It was true. Making me cum was difficult and often took hours. My clit was small and hid easily behind my lips.

"She came?" I breathed, jealous that she'd cum from penetration, something that felt like a dream to me.

"She came a lot. And she's loud. I think I'll see her again." He pulled his thick penis out of my mouth, and I whined. Without the context of a dick, being on your knees is just humiliating. "I'm a little tired. I'm going to go take a nap. You did a good job sucking her off me."

So there was the truth. He'd fucked her good and long all night, and he'd just wanted to use me to clean her off him before he went to sleep. I guess he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before after all. My image of them cuddling together was dashed. It wasn't cuddling. It was more sex than I could have imagined.

"Wait, do you wanna have sex with me?" I asked, trying to control the whine in my voice.

"No, I want you to be a good cuck and think about it for a little longer. We'll have sex tonight," he promised, and he disappeared upstairs, leaving me yet again with an aching pussy, the taste of her cum coating the inside of my mouth.