Chapter 20

Sometimes we find ourselves unhappy, trapped in draining relationships, but we keep going out of convenience. I’ve never been one for confrontations, and at least he seemed content. My boyfriend’s a decent guy, but he’s limited in bed and not open to talk. He gets offended every time I try to show him what I like, leaving me frustrated. So many ideas have crossed my mind, so many ways to break the monotony, but he always picks the easy, quick, predictable path.

Lately, a forbidden thought won’t leave my head: a mix of desire and revenge. I wanted to give myself to one of his friends. I wanted to destroy that Christian reputation he valued so much. I wanted to feel humiliated. The lack of being satisfied as a woman was building a raging fury inside me. And don’t think he wasn’t warned. In our last fight, I said it straight up, no bullshit, that if he didn’t step up as a man at home, I’d go looking for it with his buddies. He was told point-blank. And it happened right after the threat was made.

I’d picked my target — he was just a regular friend at my boyfriend’s place, but that day, I was going to hit him with everything I had. The dress a little shorter, the way I crossed my legs on the couch, and the lingering look, disguised as casual teasing. I knew exactly what I was doing.

His friend was always the opposite of my boyfriend: confident, with an easy smile that hid something deeper, a spark of mischief I’d never dared explore… until now. It was almost unbearable the way he moved around the room, so at ease, like he already knew the power he had over me. He’d been eyeing me for a while, smiling at me for no reason, always prying into my personal life.

The conversation flowed casually among the three of us, while my boyfriend talked without noticing the game playing out right under his nose. My eyes met his in subtle moments — long enough to make the blood rush. When my boyfriend went to the kitchen, I seized the chance.

“Am I gonna use you today, man?”

My voice came out low, like a secret forced out.

“Huh? You crazy?”

The look of total shock was all over his face.

With that surprised expression, he didn’t back off. Quite the opposite. He stepped close enough that I could feel the heat from his body.

“This is dangerous,” he said, with a sly half-smile and eyes flicking to the door.

“I know, fuck it!” I shot back, no hesitation.

My hands were shaking, but my resolve wasn’t. It was a choice I knew I couldn’t take back, but in that moment, the weight of the consequences felt small compared to the hunger to break the chains holding me down. When my boyfriend came back, everything looked normal — except the fire burning inside me, and the tension crackling between us two.

The tension just kept building! Every little move he made felt like a tease: the way he held his glass, the discreet glances he threw my way, or the casual way he brushed against me. I was already consumed by this insane desire, but with every second, backing out seemed more impossible.

My boyfriend, the coward, not knowing how to handle seeing my threat come true right in front of him, grabbed his keys saying he needed to hit the store.

“Just a minute, I won’t be long,” he said, avoiding my eyes and sweating bullets as he scrambled for a quick escape, almost panicking.

“You’re staying right here — you’re gonna learn from him how to treat a woman right. If you walk out that door, don’t come back!” I was the picture of rage in front of two stunned guys, cursing loud with a jumble of harsh words.

Speechless, the guy sat resigned in the corner of the room with a guilty look, and then it all came crashing down. The deafening silence made it feel like we were in a minefield, where the slightest mistake could be deadly.

“You shouldn’t joke like that,” the friend said, his voice cracking with seriousness as he tried to figure if this was some prank.

I laughed in response, not from nerves or amusement, but with a boldness I didn’t even know I had. I walked over to him slow and fearless, like each step was meant to show off every bit of my feminine power.

“And who said I’m joking?” I whispered, stopping close enough to feel his heavy breathing as I groped what he always bragged about being so big.

For a second, I thought he’d pull away. Maybe he was thinking about his buddy he saw as a brother, what this could do, but I saw the exact moment he gave up fighting himself. His gaze hardened, his hands rose to my waist, and in one quick move, he pulled me to him.

The kiss was overwhelming, like we’d been holding this back forever. My head spun, not just from the intensity, but from finally choosing for myself. He explored my body with confidence, like he was claiming something he’d never had but was now getting freely.

No turning back! In that instant, not with the adrenaline and desire taking over everything. He pressed me against the wall, his ragged breath on my neck, his lips trailing my skin like he was discovering forbidden territory.

My elbows slipped under the straps of the dress, baring my naked tits. The room’s chill hardened my nipples, and a deep shiver made me tremble. His face smashed into them hard, like a calf nursing from its mom. The pain and pleasure of his wet sucking made me open my mouth without thinking. It felt like his tongue was dancing on a stage with a hot little flame that burned into the air, scorching my soul and igniting desire.

I learned what real ease felt like when his strong hands slid roughly over my curves, exploring every inch with the confidence of someone who’d fantasized about this a thousand times. My skin burned under his touch, and my breathing got heavy, broken by sighs I couldn’t control. Under the dress, my panties were yanked off, and his hand invaded me in a rush.

My body reacted wildly to the first touch, a explosion of feelings and sensations hit me hard, draining my strength — he rubbed my pussy mercilessly, spreading wetness down my thighs. His fingers drove me into a frenzy, and my mouth let out a jumble of nonsense.

“You slut!”

“Say it again!”

“You slut, you whore!”

“Make me your slut then!”

With one shove, I was thrown to the floor, on my knees before him like a slave set to please her master, and there he was, my tormentor, freeing his cock from his pants, revealing a magnificent dick that made me sweat just looking at it. Gripped by his brutal hand on my head, I opened my mouth to take what was mine. He thrust in, turning my lips into a wide-open pussy, that firm meat filling my mouth until it hit my throat. A stream of saliva poured from the choking, his taste mild and warm. In the violence of it, I was endlessly passive to him.

His cursed hand slapped through the air, followed by a spit on my face — what should have humiliated me made me cry with joy, makeup running, crazy, I laughed, filthy and drooling, prostrate before him. The sting on my cheek brought a weird pleasure I’d never felt before. I was pushed down by the sole of his foot, kicked like a bitch.

“On all fours, woman!”

I was invaded in a way that caused deep pain by something hot that seized my pussy. I roared as my flesh was brutally filled, the texture clear as day — I could tell head from shaft. The ache in my womb screamed for me to get out of there right now, but I felt anchored, not understanding why I was waiting for more, and even if I tried, I’d already been tamed by him holding my hair.

The slap of our skin was deafening, the impact jolting my spine, waves spreading to the base of my neck, shaking my thoughts and messing with my mind. In screams, I begged him to stop, pleaded for gentleness, tears streaming from my eyes — But I was still smiling.

The room seemed to vanish around us. No guilt, no future, just the now — the heat of his cock, the muffled moans, the building rhythm that bound us in a way I’d never known. It was freeing and wicked at the same time, like we were challenging not just limits, but the rules that had caged me until then.

Then everything blurred and got chaotic, the slapping sounds stopped when I felt a hot spurt inside me, everything got wet, and the pleasure battered my soul, making me collapse spent and out of it. My pounding stopped, and all you could hear was heavy breathing and drops of sweat hitting my raised hips. Lying face down, something trickled down my legs — my dignity.

But reality didn’t wait long to knock — literally. The sound of the key in the lock snapped me out of the trance. The front door closed behind my boyfriend, who’d watched the whole thing in silence.

My head stayed on the carpet, and in peace, my heart waited to beat steady again. It was all over, and what had been uncomfortable now had meaning; empty as I was, I felt truly filled. He looked at me like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t need to — it was all there, in the fierce shine of his eyes.