Your erotic stories

If you’d asked me if I would want to watch my girlfriend fuck another man in front of me a year ago, I’d have promptly punched you in the jaw. The idea would have disgusted me, as I’d heard of cuckolds and thought that they had to all be subs, and maybe even closeted homosexuals.

That was until one evening, when my girlfriend turned to me and planted the seed in my brain while we were talking casually on my sofa: a simple sentence that would slowly grow to something more. “How would you feel if I got hit on on Saturday?”

“Well I wouldn’t blame them,” I replied, laughing.

“Hmm, okay,” she responded, slowly stirring a mug of cocoa with a spoon between her gentle fingertips.

I watched her for a moment, trying to decipher her expression. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” she replied, “I’ve just never gone out on my own since we got together… I didn’t really know how you’d want me to react.”

“Well ignoring them would be a good idea,” I said bluntly.

“Yeah I guess you’re right,” she said, and I thought that would be the last of it. But as I went to sleep that night, the reality of her, out on town in a hot little dress without me began to seep down lower into my subconscious. I began to feel a possessive urge rise up within me. I stifled it and pulled her closer to me, falling asleep with my face buried in her blonde hair.

A day passed and I was fucking her tight young 18-year-old pussy when I noticed a strange new glint in her eye. Leaning over her with all my weight, I pressed my hand hard against the mattress as I thrust into her. “What’s that look about?” I asked her.

“Oh, nothing,” she said coyly.

I moved my other hand from her hip and firmly placed my fingers around her throat. “Spit it out.”

“Okay, okay,” she gasped slightly, “I just was thinking about how you got all aggressive last night when I mentioned me, you know, getting attention.”

It took me a moment to pick up on what she was referring to. “Yeah, well, of course. What, do you want me to like you getting hit on?”

“No, no, I just love how angry you got thinking about it,” she said, looking into my eyes as though she were searching for something behind them. She took her hand and ran it up my thigh and gripped my hip tightly, manoeuvring it so I thrust deeper into her. “It makes me wonder how you’d react if a guy tried to kiss me at the club,”

“Kill him.”

“- and I kissed him back.”

I rammed into her harder at her words, quickening the pace of my thrusts and eliciting short, sharp breaths and moans from her. Her eyes sparkled in pleasure, her lips puckering in “Ooh”s. I angled my cock so it would hit her g-spot just right and she built to an orgasm. I felt her tight, wet pussy clench around my cock as she came.

“Why on earth would you want,” I said between the hungered presses of her mouth against mine, “to kiss anyone else.” I shuffled and pushed deeper inside her while I wrapped a hand around her throat. She whimpered in pleasure as she came again. I loved the feeling of her laboured breath slipping between my lips as she kissed me, her moans escaping inside my mouth.

“You’re damn right,” she said in the afterglow of her orgasm, her body relaxed.

After I finished, she gave me a hint of a cheeky smile. She almost glowed in the dim room. “What?” I asked her as I gathered my towel before heading to the shower.

“Just confirmed some suspicions,” she mumbled coyly.

“Huh?”

She turned to me, her expression calm but with a slight undercurrent of excitement. “You fuck me harder when you’re jealous,” she smiled at me.

I ran my hand through my hair, disconcerted. “It’s to teach you that you aren’t missing out on anything.”

She walked up to me, a confident bounce in her stride. “You’ll have to remind me more often,” she said, before planting a quick kiss on my lips.

Over the next few times I saw her, whenever we fucked, she would bring up Saturday night. “Should I wear that dress with the cut-outs, or the blue one with the cleavage?” she asked. She laughed at what must have been an expression of shock on my face.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am.”

“Why this sudden desire to be a tart?”

“Why do you want me so much more when I am a tart?”

I’d been asking myself the same question for the past few days. Every time she hinted about getting danced with, or otherwise getting a guy’s attention on the weekend, I just wanted to mark her as my own. The best way to do this was just to fuck her to the point where she was too sore and spent to even think about fucking anyone else. Not that she would fuck anyone else.

After she left my place on Friday night, I hit up Google. “Why do I get so turned on thinking about my girlfriend fucking other men?” All of the results were talking about cuckolding. I felt my stomach drop. All I’d ever seen of cuckolds on image board websites and seedy corners of the internet was pathetic guys who knew they were so unsatisfying to their girlfriends or wives that they just let her get with other men. They liked being humiliated about how their cocks weren’t good enough for her, and they even sometimes ate the other man’s cum. I definitely didn’t want any of that.

Surely I’m not a cuckold, I thought. But I was curious now. I read a few cuckold-friendly threads and websites and eventually I found out about a select group of people who were like me. They were so turned on by their girlfriend being sexy and sexually liberated that they themselves got possessive of her, and having another guy interested in (or even fucking) their girl made them not only jealous, but physically competitive.

Reading further, I learned that it also made them fuck harder, it made them feel as though they were Superman, brimming with supernatural amounts of testosterone so they could out-compete any other guy in the arena. That was definitely how it made me feel when my girlfriend taunted me about other guys wanting to fuck her.

It was so fantastical an idea that she could enjoy another guy after me. I fucked my girl senseless; I knew I completely satisfied her. I knew I was attractive, and I was proud of my sexual history and conquests. So the idea of her fucking another guy, and really wanting to? I had to admit, it was hot. It would be like watching my girl, the hottest girl I’d ever seen, in a porn film but right before my eyes. The only way I’d be able to enjoy it though, was if I were restrained. Otherwise I’d just knock him out and fuck the shit out of her til she cried and begged for my forgiveness.

I wouldn’t find it hot unless I had no choice, it had to be her choice, and she had to force it on me. Being cuckolded would be in direct contrast to my usual role as the dominant one in our relationship. The idea of being submissive to her was exotic. As much as I hated to acknowledge it, I grew secretly interested in her fucking someone else.

Though I’d been jealous knowing that other guys would be gawking at my girlfriend in her tight dress, nothing happened on that Saturday evening when she went out with her girlfriends. Regardless, I found myself getting off over a cuckolding erotic story while she was out.

One afternoon a few weeks later, she was using my computer to do banking or something. She’d innocently accessed the browser history and my exploration into cuckolding was revealed: several links to porn videos with variations of ‘cuckold’ in the title, as well as erotic stories. My heart jumped up into my throat. She turned and looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “What’s this?” She pointed to the screen.

“You know what it is, porn.” I smiled sheepishly, but felt my eyes fall to my feet.

“What’s a cuckold?” She genuinely sounded curious. I took a deep breath.

“You know how it turns me on so much when you talk about dressing sexy and going out with your friends? And how my jealousy makes me fuck you harder?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. That’s like, a thing. A common thing. And it’s a fetish.”

“A fetish? What like leather or something?”

“Sort of. Something extra, that you can add to, as they say, ‘spice things up’ in the bedroom.”

“Like when middle aged people get bored of normal sex and start to pee on each other?” We both laughed.

“Yeah, that’s one fetish.” Sometimes I forgot that she was only 18, and not as well-versed in sex as I was. She fucked like a pocket rocket, but she was a virgin when I met her. She only knew what I’d taught her.

Her head cocked to the side and she screwed up her nose, more in consideration than aversion. “So how do they even make porn of guys getting jealous? Like I know when other guys want me, you want me more. But isn’t that more of like, an emotional thing? Like you describe it as a kick in the guts and a desire to fuck me at the same time, right? I don’t get how you can make that into a video.”

I swallowed. “It can get a lot more hardcore than the girl just going out looking sexy, then coming home and getting taught who’s boss.”

“How so?”

I showed her a couple of the tamer videos, of a girlfriend or wife having sex with another man in front of her partner. She read a story about first-time cuckolding. I was nervous, wondering how she’d take all this new, much more hardcore information. I hoped she’d accept that I was into it.

“Can I say something maybe a bit too honest?” She said as she finished the final page of the story.

“Anything. Honesty is the best policy.”

She twirled her long, sandy blonde hair in her lithe fingers. “This is actually really fucking hot.”

I felt a flood of glowing relief flow from my toes up to the top of my skull. “You really think?”

“Hell yes! Oh my god. If I’d have known you were into this stuff… wow, we could have had way more fun these past few months.”

My heart raced with excitement. “How do you mean?”

“Well, um, I didn’t want to say anything before… we’re still kind of new in the scheme of things, so I didn’t want to freak you out. But one of my biggest fantasies is to have a one-night stand. And since we got together, and I’m committed to you, and I don’t wanna lose you, like ever… I kind of thought I’d never be able to do that. But…” Her voice trailed off, her eyes sparkling with the prospect.

She looked up at me with an expression that meant business. “You know, we don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to. I’m not going to cheat on you just because you like the idea of me fucking other guys.”

“I would hope you wouldn’t, I get how it might seem like I do, but it’s just a fantasy, and I want to be involved in it, if anything ever does happen.”

“I get that.” She reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. We talked for a while longer about the logistics of her fantasies, and mine. As the conversation dwindled off and we went back to other things, I was anxious about this new freedom and power I was giving her to play with.

It didn’t take long for my girlfriend to go from a fairly innocent and submissive girl, to an experienced and aggressive domme. I was shocked at how well she picked up using my cuckolding fetish to her advantage. It enhanced the fetish strongly that she genuinely used it as an excuse to tease me and make me share in her own desires (one night stands, enjoying other men, and getting angry-sex out of me). She went from being totally dependent on me sexually, to independent and exploiting me for her own pleasure, in the space of about three weeks.

Once she learned that I actually did like her dominating me, and I wasn’t just screwing around with this fetish, she fell into her element. She copied my methods of tying her up and using her for my pleasure, reversing the roles easily. She learned to tie me to my bed more securely than I ever did with her. She did her own research and even, completely of her own accord, learned how to ruin my orgasms. The first time she did it, I was so stunned that I felt the mental equivalent of being winded.

“What the hell was that?” I’d said, as I recovered from the strange, dissonant sight of having watched myself spurt a load of cum without feeling any corresponding pleasure.

She just smirked at me.

“Seriously did you not notice that I just came and… just… felt nothing?”

She smirked even harder. “That’s the whole point.”

I looked at her incredulously. “You did that on purpose? How? Why?”

“Because when you’re my sub, you need to know just how much power I have over you. You need to have something to be threatened with when you disobey me.” She ran her hands over the cum that had landed in a puddle on my stomach. She lifted a small amount and brought it toward my mouth.

“Nope. No way.”

“Eat it.”

“You are completely deluded if you think for one second that I’m gonna eat my own cum.”

“Look at yourself,” she said, gesturing from my tied up feet to my wrists. “You’re hardly in a position to refuse.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’d created a monster. The worst part was, I knew if I even tried to manipulate her, she wouldn’t budge. She was dead-set in domme mode, and I was nothing but her fun little toy to humiliate and exploit.

I clamped my mouth shut.

“If you don’t eat it, I’m just gonna rub it all over your mouth. And I’ll ruin your next orgasm as punishment.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, but I would. And you know I can now, too.”

The sexy little brat.

I stuck out my tongue, fully intending to spit it out when she wasn’t looking.

She laid the thick, white load on my tongue. “Swallow it.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Swallow it, or I swear to god I’ll leave you here until you can get off again, and then I’ll build you and edge you for two hours, and then I’ll make you think I’m gonna let you cum, and I will ruin it and you will feel,” she paused dramatically, “absolutely nothing.”

She stared me down. I swallowed it.

“You’re a bitch.”

“You love it.”

Over a period of another few weeks, she grew very comfortable with making me eat my cum. Her preferred technique, used probably four out of every five times she dommed me, was making me eat my creampies out of her. She loved sitting on my face when I was tied up and couldn’t refuse her, not that I ever would pass up a chance to lick her delicious, smooth little pussy. She loved it even more that I was eating my cum from her, something I had a huge aversion to and wouldn’t ever even think of doing when she weren’t forcing me into such a submissive headspace.

She began to piece together that I produced more cum when she brought up my cuckolding fantasies, and talked to me about them when I was eating my cum out of her, eventually pretending that I was eating another man’s cum from her pussy.

It amazed me how well she could manipulate me into desiring to have my cuckolding fantasies become real. She would fuck me and edge me, and then jump off my cock and refuse to get back on until I begged her to fuck someone else on the weekend.

“Do you want me to find a guy to fuck on Saturday night?”

“No.”

“You know the rules. No more pleasure until you say…?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.” She’d ride me some more, her tight teen cunt caressing my swollen cock and building me to delirium. And then she’d remove herself from my cock again, leaving me desperate.

“I deserve another cock, don’t I baby? Isn’t it selfish to keep this amazing pussy all to yourself?”

“Yes,” I said, needing her back on my cock more desperately with each passing millisecond.

“And will you eat his cum out of me when I get home like a good cuckold?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” she purred, lowering her tight pussy down, enveloping my cock and fucking it until I blew a thick, creamy load and coated her walls. The flavour of her juices combined with mine was addictive, so I didn’t care so much when she played it up as another guy’s cum.

A few more months passed, and brought me to the point where I was fully willing for her to fuck anyone she wanted. All that indulging her new cuckolding and old one-night-stand fantasies inevitably led to her desiring to push the boundaries further.

“Come out with me on Saturday,” she said casually one afternoon.

“I thought that was a girls’ night?” I replied, curious. On her occasional nights out with her girlfriends, she’d tease me when she got home with stories about all the guys who approached her, and how she teased them. She’d never asked me to come out on one of these nights before.

“It is…” Her large, blue eyes glanced away. “I’d like you to come anyway. I have an idea.”

“What’s your idea?”

“Um, you could shadow me. Go to the same places I go, watch me. I’ll still dress up sexy. And you can see in person what I get up to. Who knows…? I might feel like doing naughty things knowing you’re somewhere in the crowd.”

I gulped. I felt a rush of excitement run through my chest, imagining my teen girlfriend, the closeted nympho, showing off for me.

“Like what, exactly?”

“Well, you’ll see, won’t you?” She turned to me with this sexy, teasing look in her eyes. “What do you say?”

“Count me in. But make it worth my time.”

“Oh, I intend to.”

Saturday came around, and as we got ready to go out, my girlfriend sipped on a glass of cheap wine. I couldn’t help but drop my jaw as I stepped into the living room and laid my eyes on her hungrily. Usually short and cute, she was wearing thin, dark pink stilettos, and some black material that can best be described as an overambitious t-shirt.

The “dress” clung to each curve and nook of her body; her perky breasts and ass, and her toned, thin legs and stomach highlighted to perfection. Her usually straight, sandy blonde hair was wavy from the product in it, her big blue eyes made even larger by the thin black rim of eyeliner around them. Her lips were the kind of pink that made you crave seeing them wrapped around your cock.

“Well someone certainly isn’t messing around,” I said with a laugh as my eyes lingered on her cleavage.

“You know I don’t bluff,” she replied coyly, placing her glass on the table and sashaying over to me. She leaned in and gave me a long, lingering kiss. As she pulled away she said, “I’m not wearing any panties.”

I bit my lip and grabbed the car keys. “Come on, you’re gonna be late.”

It didn’t take long for me to wish I’d never agreed to her game. I dropped her off outside the first club of the night and watched her tight ass in her black dress as she walked toward the doors. The two bonehead bouncers’ eyes were wide as they traced her figure. Her legs looked long and graceful in the stilettos. I ached to throw those legs over my shoulders. I wondered how on earth I’d last the whole night. I parked my car, had my wrist stamped by the bouncers, and walked through the doors five minutes after her.

The club was fairly small and intimate; the colourful lights dim as they rotated around the dance floor. The bar was illuminated, so it didn’t take me long to spot my girlfriend. She leaned against the bar, her breasts barely contained by the thin, slick material of her dress. She was laughing with some of her girlfriends. I went to the opposite side of the bar, grabbed a beer, and watched her like a hawk. I scanned the room and noticed I wasn’t the only guy with eyes for her. I counted ten guys who checked her out within the next few minutes. I felt a rush of adrenaline and gripped my glass as I saw one guy stride over to her. I felt the strongest urge to beat him to her, and call the game off with my girlfriend, but my curiosity helped to restrain me. I enjoyed seeing how she reacted to the attention. It was a strange feeling, watching her flirt so confidently with another guy. It was like seeing her in a new light. I wanted to catch her as though I’d just seen her for the first time again.

This same scenario repeated itself for about an hour. Someone would come over and try their chances, buy her a drink, she’d flirt with them for a while, and after she brushed them off they left. I was probably looking like some weird lonely guy in the corner of the bar, but I didn’t care. I had a different agenda than anyone else out tonight. I saw my girl pull her phone out of her bra, and begin texting. My phone beeped: “Moving to Vice now. Follow in 10.” I watched as she and her group of five friends exited the club. She stood out walking amongst their modest outfits. A dozen men stared as she left, their eyes following her ass like magnets. I sculled the remainder of my drink, and stood up to leave.

That small, first club was just a warm-up. Vice was one of those huge industrial warehouse-turned-clubs. It was around midnight, and the dance floor was a sea of sweaty bodies. It was dark and muggy inside, and clubbers were bumping and grinding all around me as I stepped past the entry section. There was an upper floor with two different bars, several scattered lounges and private rooms. The music was so bassy and loud that it felt as though my ears were submerged in it. The flashing and pulsing coloured lights added to the surreal feeling. It took me a few minutes of disoriented walking through the crowd to spot my girlfriend. She was dancing with her friends, and they were dancing with a group of guys.

The first thing I noticed about the men was that they were barely men. They looked like they were in their early twenties, and though they were sharply dressed they had a very un-classy air of cockiness about them. When I saw how closely one particular boy was dancing next to my girl, I felt my hand clench into a fist. I watched her and felt my temperature rising with anger as he moved his hand and pressed it against her hip, brought it up to her waist, under her arm and finally, her breast.

She leaned back into him as they moved to the music. I tried half-heartedly to dance so I wouldn’t look strange standing there, but I couldn’t stop looking at my girlfriend and how she was staring into this young prick’s face. I ripped my head away and walked toward the upper floor, determined to get another drink in me and slow my heart rate down a couple of notches.

I’d barely gotten my drink when my phone beeped in my pocket. “He was cute. Should I go home with him?”

“He looks like he’s barely hit puberty. No. Come home with me. Right now. That dress needs to come off.”

Beep. “I’m drunk and my judgment is impaired. I think I might let him take care of the dress.”

“Where are you?”

“Heading back to d-floor. U?”

“Watching.”

“Good. Then watch this.”

I looked down from the upper level, drink in hand, and locked my eyes onto her through the crowd. It wasn’t hard to spot her; she was by far the most attractive thing in this whole club. Not to mention the fact all her bare skin shone in the translucent lights that ran across the floor. She walked back up to the boy she was dancing with before. He eyed her hungrily, a cocky look on his face. She looked him up and down, sussing him out playfully. He said something flirtatious to her, she pulled back and laughed.

Then, in a quick flash, his arms were suddenly out, his hands grabbing at her and pulling her little body against his. His lips melded with hers. I felt a sudden, intense shock of jealousy in my chest. I nearly dropped my glass just from the strength of the emotion. At the same time, as I watched their mouths move together, his hands roaming freely and grabbing her ass, my cock started to grow hard. I needed to fuck her. I felt an urgent desire to go down and get her, throw her over my shoulder, and fuck her in the alleyway outside.

I finished my drink in a hurry and walked as calmly as I could maintain down to the dance floor. My heart was racing, I had to grab her and take her home immediately. This punk didn’t deserve to lay a finger on her, let alone touch her and kiss her like that. I searched through the crowd for them; I looked for her sandy blonde hair and those pink shoes. I couldn’t see her anywhere.

She was gone.

“Where are you?” I texted her. No answer.

I hung around for a few more minutes, in case she’d come back. I wanted her to say she was pleased by how much she’d teased me tonight, and that she wanted to take advantage of my jealousy and my hunger for her. It didn’t happen.

I left the club and found my car. I sat in it and found myself staring at my phone.

“I’m going home. Goodnight,” I texted her. No response.

That night I barely slept as I waited for a response from her. At 4:43AM, my phone beeped. It probably took me half a second to pick up my phone. It was a message from her.

It beeped again. She’d sent an audio file.

The message simply said, “I’m home now. Had fun. Listen.”

Dazed from my horrible night’s sleep, I fumbled around on the touch screen until I tapped the audio file. It began to play, and I closed my eyes, trying to focus all my energy on listening. For about thirty seconds, all I could hear was rustling. I figured her phone must have been in the small bag she’d worn out. I heard a few mumbles, and what sounded like a laugh. This was followed by more rustling, and then a thud. I made out a shuffling noise, and a zipper being undone. From then on, the audio was much clearer to me. I heard the noise of mouths moving together, and a thud. They’d moved to a bed, or a sofa. Then, I heard the sound of clothes being removed and falling to the floor in a heap.

I heard her whimper softly. My heart immediately dropped to my stomach. I felt something similar to being winded, a kick in my chest. My heartbeat picked up and I opened my eyes hesitantly, as even though I knew it was just an audio file, I half-expected to see images accompanying the sound. She probably knew I’d have that reaction, her choice to send me audio just another way of teasing me, knowing that I’d visualise the scene.

With each high gasp or low, deep moan that escaped her lips I longed to see what he was doing to her. Minutes passed and I was growing rock hard, aching to have her here, to be the one to make her whimper helplessly like that. I heard a faint noise of a zip being undone, and pants being pulled down. “The bed?” My girlfriend said, and I heard her feet step closer to where her phone was recording. Her new guy followed her. I heard the snap of elastic and my girlfriend gasping with genuine surprise.

“Jesus Christ, you’re huge,” she said, taken aback but interested.

“I love that look,” Jerk adolescent replied.

“You want me to?” She said coyly, a smile in her voice.

“Fuck yes I do, suck it. I wanna see if you can even fit it in that little mouth of yours.”

The next thing I heard was the unmistakable noise of a tight, wet mouth being drawn around a hard cock and then removed.

“Yeah, like that?” She said cheekily, a low, husky tone to her voice. She was extremely horny; I could hear it in each tiny fragment of that question.

“Back in there,” he replied, and then there was a low hum of pleasure. I heard the wetness of her mouth as it slid up and down the shaft of his cock. I heard her begin to moan with his cock in her mouth.

“Can’t help but touch yourself, huh?” He said jovially. “Want it in you?”

“Mm-hmm!” She moaned in response.

I then heard her stand, only to have the both of them fall to the bed a moment later. There was more shuffling of their bodies, and the sound of the bed frame creaking. Moans broke through between their mouths, accompanied by the sound of his cock thrusting in and out of my girlfriend’s tight, wet, young, shaved pussy.

My hand was wrapped around my cock, I found myself absentmindedly tugging and playing with myself. Each stroke of pleasure contrasted with the sickening jealousy that spread through me. The envy and rage I felt only made me hornier. The reality that this wasn’t just porn, but it was actually my girl fucking someone she’d just met tonight, stabbed me like a knife. But my cock just ached, my balls churned with the flood of more cum. I felt myself desiring the taste of cum in my mouth. Her mind tricks and training were to blame.

The worst part of listening to the recording was that it proved to me just how far I had submitted to her. I had the choice to stop listening at any time. I had the choice to call my girlfriend and abuse the hell out of her, break up with her, and ruin her life if I wanted to. The point was, I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to do any of those things. As I listened to this new guy fucking her, I only wanted to be there and watch his huge cock entering her, then sliding out of her as her tight pussy lips gripped his shaft.

Hearing her moans and drunken dirty talk with him wasn’t enough; I needed her to ride my face afterward and to scoop the fresh load of cum out of her fucked-raw cunt with my tongue. Each humiliating stroke edged me closer to orgasm as I thought of her being fucked by this other guy. I loved it. I needed more. I craved more.

I listened as she begged him to fuck her harder. “Your cock, oh my god, more, more, more,” she said in ever-quickening breaths. I heard her moans become higher-pitched and more frequent until she orgasmed from his cock. The sound of the bed creaked slowly, and then stopped for a moment. They kissed some more, long, lingering kisses. His next words sounded as though he were speaking from her neck.

“Did you just cum from your g-spot?” He asked, shocked but amused.

“Yeah, what, are you not used to that?”

“Yeah, like I know it can happen, but not really…”

“Do you wanna be used to it?”

And then the thrusting began again. I felt as though I were on a rollercoaster, each part of this recording turned me on more, and made me want her more, but made me hurt more at the same time. I couldn’t stop listening. The thrusting continued. Her breaths eventually started to hasten again, her moans building to a peak. She came again, and I heard him groan, his thrusts slowing.

After they got up from the bed, all I heard was the sound of clothes being collected from their pile on the floor near the phone, and then silence.

I stared at the luminescent screen before my eyes. I read her message again. “Had fun.” I rolled my eyes just out of sheer disbelief at how my girlfriend, so young and innocent a mere few months ago, was now able to get me this wrapped around her finger, cuckold me this hard, make me desire her so much and want to destroy her so badly at the same time. I furiously edged twice more, and couldn’t help but moan from the strength of my orgasm.

When I looked down at my hand and wrist, and the thick load that they were coated in, I felt thoroughly humiliated. My girlfriend could very likely have had that douchebag’s cum in her that night, she could have been sleeping with his cum soaking up in her pussy, and there I was, the guy she should have come home with – my cum completely wasted and wiped up with a towel.

It was about 5:30AM when I texted her back. “Fuck you. You little slut. I fucking hate you. I am going to destroy you. I am going to tear your pussy apart when I see you next. I hate that I love you. Fuck you. I want you more than I ever have. Goodnight.”

I woke up the next morning to nothing in response but a ‘tongue poking out face’ emoticon, and the words, “How about you put your words to action then? Or will you just end up begging me to fuck him again, but record video this time? Hahaha. See you later.”

After that night, cuckolding certainly solidified its place in our relationship. I battled with feelings of hurt afterward for a day or so, wondering if we’d taken it too far. However, after seeing her again when she next came over and brutally fucking her and re-asserting my position as dominant, we both knew that there were no regrets.

During the next few weeks, she saw that guy from the club again twice. The first time, she sent me a photo of him fucking her in the mirror. The second time, she sent me a 2-minute video of them fucking, and the message “Wanna watch?” I found marks on my knuckles after from how I’d absentmindedly bitten down on my fist while watching it. She didn’t mention him otherwise, I didn’t even know his name, and I didn’t want to bring the topic up and sound like I was insecure about it. So I just made sure to fuck her harder than he did.

However, one time when she was in a masochistic mood and tied me up, she grabbed my phone while she stroked my cock with one hand. She’d edged me a few times, and I was getting to the crazy point of horny where I was willing to do anything she asked if she’d let me cum.

“What are you doing?” I asked, nearly breathless. Every second was filled with pleasure as she lightly rubbed the head of my now very swollen and desperate cock.

“Finding… this,” she replied, before turning the phone around so I could see the video of her and her new guy fucking. “I like that you didn’t delete it.”

I didn’t respond. As I watched the film, I felt a surge of cum flood into my balls. My heart began to beat harder and faster, I clenched my jaw slightly. My cock was incredibly teased as she continued to stroke it. She turned the phone around every time the video finished and just pressed play again, forcing me to watch.

She giggled. “You’re edging so quickly now. Does that turn you on, baby? You like watching me get pounded?”

I could hear the sound of her moans in the video, interspersed with the new guy’s groans as he thrust into her and orgasms.”You know I do.”

“Yeah, moan for me, you know why this feels so good? Because you’re a cuckold and you love watching his cock thrust into me, you love seeing his balls smack against my wet pussy.”

My balls felt heavy with cum as they bounced against her hand, my cock was so red and hard that I felt a new plateau of horny pleasure.

“You love seeing him fucking blow his load inside me don’t you? You just want to get your tongue up in my pussy and lap it all up right after he pulls out. You’re so dirty.”

I edged again, unable to help it from watching the footage of her pussy dripping with her new guy’s cum. I felt my cock beginning to pulse, with euphoria one second away, when suddenly I felt her hand move away and my cock involuntarily twitch. I watched incredulously as my cum spurted from my cock and landed in her hand. I groaned desperately, and felt gutted as she leaned down to my ear and said, “He gets to use my body to cum – you don’t.”

“What?” I said, shocked by her sternness.

“Yep, that’s right. I like to make him cum. You? You just get cleanup duty like a good sub.” With this, she poured my semen into my mouth, and I swallowed it with resignment.

“I hope you realise that this whole cuckolding thing? It’s not about you. I’m not doing any of this,” she said, tapping the phone screen, “for you.”

She leaned back and slid her hands over her sexy, smooth skin, fondling her breasts and lightly running over her pussy. “My body,” she said, “is too good to be kept all to yourself, right?”

“Of course,” I said, feeling kicked in the guts and also craving her, frustratingly still as horny as before but without the ability to do anything about it.

“Exactly, and it’s only right that when I crave another guy’s cock, I get to have what I want, isn’t it?” she said, her angelic smile clashing with her cruel words.

“Absolutely,” I said, entranced by her body and her power over me. “You can have fun with anyone you want, you deserve whatever you like.”

“That’s right baby. Good answer. I might let you cum later.”

I’d have turned her over and taken her, and shown her exactly how I could use her body, regardless of her desires, as soon as she untied me… if I could get hard. But instead through ruining my orgasm, she had once again proven just how well she could control and exploit my body. I smacked her on the ass as she left the room, and she poked her tongue out at me in return. I barely hurt when she cuckolded me any more, I just wanted to punish her, take her and watch her get fucked like she was a porn star.

This is exactly why when my birthday rolled around, she made sure that it was a memorable one.

The day had been perfect, and made even better when my girlfriend came over after work and we had a couple of glasses of champagne. She dressed up nicely, did her hair and wore some makeup, even though we both knew her clothes would come off very quickly and her makeup wouldn’t stay flawless for long. We started making out in the living room and she was very flirty and coy as she led me to my bedroom, her youthful spark practically bouncing off the walls. We lay on the bed and kissed for a short time before she pulled away.

“I want to do something special for your birthday,” she said sweetly.

“Yeah, what’s that?” I said, finding it difficult to make my eyes meet hers as she was wearing a ridiculously sexy, lacy black bra.

“Let me tie you up and blindfold you, it’s a surprise.”

I kissed her again and she then undressed me before she collected the ties. I laid back on my bed which I’d taken care to make nicely, knowing we’d have some great birthday sex on it. She tied my wrists and feet up to the bed as usual, tight and secure. After she was satisfied with her tying efforts, she then pulled out a blindfold I kept in one of the drawers near my bed, and winked at me before putting it over my eyes.

“Can you see anything?” She asked.

“Nope. Pitch black.”

“Swear to God?”

“Yep. Nothing.”

“Good, now just lay back and enjoy.”

I smiled as I felt her begin to kiss my neck, and run her hands over my naked body. Her warm, smooth skin caressed me as she climbed on top of me and dry-humped me slowly. She ground her pussy against my cock gently while she kissed my neck, jaw and mouth hungrily and deeply. She sat up, leaned back and fondled my balls while she rocked on my cock, the smooth satin of her panties teasing me. I was stiff for her, aching to be inside her. I couldn’t wait to experience the sensual and erotic sensation of being inside her, and just fully engaging in that feeling, being unable to see.

“Do you want me?”

“You know I do,” I said, wishing I were untied so I could caress her tight little body and kiss every inch of her.

“I’ve got the surprise waiting, I’ll be one second,” she said, kissing me on the lips once more before getting off me.

“Sure baby,” I responded. I was excited; I wondered what she’d got for me. She seemed to be setting things up for a full-body massage, so maybe some oils.

When I heard the door open, I thought she may have gone to get something from her car. Then I remembered that she was half-naked. It was when I heard another set of footsteps that my heart dropped into my stomach.

She opened the bedroom door and said softly, “Yeah, this is him. It’s his birthday and he deserves an extra special present this year for being such a good sub. How about a show?”

Before I could protest, I felt her place and secure a gagging device over my mouth. I felt the blood rush from my face. It was only after she pulled off the blindfold, and I watched as she started taking off her new guy’s shirt and kissing him, that I felt that same blood start to fill my cock.

I couldn’t believe she’d brought him here. I couldn’t believe she told him about us, or that he was actually doing this. This seemed like the kind of thing that only happened in porn where everyone involved is paid for it. I felt like I was in a dream, and only after watching them kiss more, watching as she unzipped his jeans and pulled out his large, firm cock, did I really start to believe what was happening.

I watched as my girlfriend had her neck and collarbone, décolletage and breasts kissed. I watched his arms snake around her waist as he made out with her, his hands kneading her waist and hips. They finished undressing and moved to the sofa like they already had done at his place many times before. The fact that he knew her body so well already, and that he knew how to please her made me hurt deeper.

I felt absolutely gutted as he knelt between her thighs and I watched the back of his head trace figure eights over her pussy. I listened as she whimpered and moaned, grabbing his head with her fingers and pushing his tongue firmer onto her clit. I felt my cock growing harder and harder, cum rushing and my temperature rising. I was so jealous, I strained against the ties but it was no use. She didn’t care, she was wrapped up in his mouth and the pleasure it was making her feel.

I tried closing my eyes to block out the scene playing before me, but it didn’t help. I wanted to watch. I’d never seen any sex acts live before, never been in a gang bang in college, and this was something I struggled to comprehend. I wasn’t watching just any live sex, but my girlfriend. This was my sexy little eighteen year old girlfriend that I’d taught how to fuck, and here she was exploiting my most secret fetish on my birthday. I hated to love it as I heard her whimpers, watched her face contort and saw her chest rise and fall as she built to an orgasm. Watching her legs shake and quiver as she moaned and came was torture of the hottest kind.

The new guy then rose and lay down on the chaise section of my sofa, and my girlfriend straddled him. She turned to me, poked out her tongue cheekily and winked for a split second before she began to sit down on his big, hard cock. I saw exactly how the wet little lips of her pussy slid over his cock, and as he thrust in and out of her, her wetness left a mark on his shaft.

Watching as he went balls deep inside my girlfriend, I felt a huge competitive rush of cum flood my balls. I was so turned on and so jealous at the same time that it fucked with my head. Hearing her moan and exclaim “Oh, yeah, fuck, fuck me harder, yeah,” made my cock swell beyond the point I thought it could. I felt wet, glistening pre-cum run down the head of my cock as I watched each thrust of his cock inside her.

They stopped for a moment, and my girlfriend leaned down and appeared to be whispering in his ear. They then moved to the edge of the bed, right near me. I could almost touch my girlfriend with my leg when he bent her over and began ramming his cock into her from behind. With one hand he rubbed and squeezed her perky breast and little pink nipple, pinching and playing with it softly.

Watching this made my blood boil at the same time as more pre-cum rushed from my cock head. With his other hand he rubbed her clit and mound, kneading it in circular motions. I saw my girlfriend’s wetness as it coated the inside of her thighs, the wettest I’d ever seen her. Her face was twisted in an expression of absolute pleasure. She moaned and whimpered and gasped with each thrust.

“Fuck, oh my god, yeah, make me cum,” she moaned in a low voice before biting her lip as she started to orgasm. “Oh my god, fucking hell, yes, god yes,” she exclaimed, bucking her pussy and hips back against his firm shaft.

He groaned and I recognised that sound from the video – he was about to cum. I felt a flash of rage and desperation as his cock started to pulse and cum inside of her. His hands dropped and grabbed her hips so he could angle his cum deeper against her cervix.

He stepped back and kissed my girlfriend firmly one last time before walking to the pile where his clothes lay and putting them on. My girlfriend, however, ignored her clothes. She instead moved up the bed like a confident lioness, and in one smooth motion, removed my gag and placed her pussy over my mouth.

My mouth was still open from the gag being removed, and the new guy’s thick cum fell to the back of my mouth. It tasted not too dissimilar from mine, but thicker, which just made me angrier. I ate her cream pie, every last drop that I could manage, and stroked her swollen clit with my tongue to finish. My entire mouth tasted of his and her cum mixed together, and a part of me wanted to wash my mouth out with straight whiskey immediately. I heard the bedroom door shut, and my girlfriend moved herself back off my mouth and knelt with her glistening pussy hovering over my hard cock.

“How did you like your birthday cream pie?”

“Get on my dick.”

“Not until you tell me just how delicious that surprise birthday dessert was.”

I stayed silent for a moment. I needed her to fuck me or I felt like something inside me that was already fractured by this experience would break into a thousand pieces.

“It tasted good.”

“Are you gonna say thank you?”

“Thank you.”

She laughed. “You loved it, don’t lie. You were practically humping the air. Look how hard you are. But anyway, that was only part one of the present.”

“Oh Jesus. What else can you do?”

“I can do this,” she said cheerfully, before untying my feet and then my hands.

With no thought, just reflex, I flipped her over like she was weightless and fucked her until the sun came up.