Chapter 38
We were at the peak of our lives, youth shining all around us, we were hot and could have anyone we wanted. But love, that sneaky bastard, wanted to tie us down. Getting locked into each other would kill the freedom we loved so much, so between all our hookups, we decided on an open relationship. We’d live free, with just a few rules: always tell people we were together and never, ever, hook up with each other’s closest friends.
And me, out of all the options I had, I went and craved the one thing I couldn’t have: my boyfriend’s best friend.
He was a sexy beast, with eyes that cut right through my clothes, burning me up from the inside out. His scent was thick, hot, filling the air around him like a spell. The sound of his laugh was an invite to pure pleasure, echoing inside me and making me shiver. But he was off-limits to me. He haunted my thoughts, showed up in my lonely intimate moments, magically becoming the hand touching me, the pleasure I gave myself, and the sweat I spilled.
I felt guilty, sure. But it was a sweet guilt, mixed right in with the desire. I talked to my boyfriend, begged him more than once, set up tricks and traps, but nothing worked. He always said: “Not with my best friend. That would shake up what we have.”
And you think I just accepted that easy? Hell no.
I started testing him. My words were like velvet, sliding in subtle and sharp. I kept crossing his path, leaving my perfume hanging in the air, brushing his arm for no reason. I sent hints, bold pics, messages with double meanings. I invited him out, to drinks, to anything that might make him lose his way back. But he was more loyal to my boyfriend than I was. “He won’t find out, it’ll just be between us,” I’d whisper, teasing. And he, cruel as hell, turned me down.
But in distracted moments, his eyes roamed over me. In those seconds when he forgot to control his breathing, I felt the weight of his desire. Something in him was begging for me, even if his mouth said otherwise. He tried hard to keep his distance, but I saw his hand clench when I got close, his jaw tight, his gaze devouring me when he thought I wasn’t looking.
He resisted, but his body was screaming, and I was ready to push the limits of that resistance. To tease, to provoke, to turn the forbidden into an unbearable craving. Until there was no choice but to give in.
And that’s when I reaped what I’d sown.
It was a Saturday. I’d been messing with him all week, testing his limits, provoking with every look, every careless touch, every word dropped like it meant nothing. I knew what I was doing, and so did he. He held out as long as he could, but finally, he invited me to his place.
I got ready like it was a showdown. Smooth skin, every detail perfect. Hair, makeup, perfume — all picked with care. In my bag, more than lipstick and scent: intentions. Anything he might want to use against me.
When I got there, he opened the door with that ruthless smile. His eyes ate me up in a second, but his mouth kept up the act of being in control.
“You alone?”
“Yeah. Come in.”
I crossed the threshold, and before I even heard the door click shut behind me, I knew what was coming. The air was heavy, hot, loaded with what we’d been dodging for so long. I looked around, like I needed to make sure no one else was there. The closed windows gave me the privacy I needed.
I kicked off my shoes and, no rush, pulled off the thin blouse covering my body, letting it drop to the floor. My fingers slid along the waistband of my pants, unbuckling the belt with a soft snap. With a slow, deliberate move, I let the fabric slide down my legs, my arousal so intense that the friction against my skin made me tense up. He watched, frozen, no reaction. His eyes locked on me — it was a shock, he never thought I’d go this far.
Poor guy. He had no idea what I was capable of.
I stood there in just my panties and bra, eyes locked on his. Not that all this show was necessary — he was already mine. But I wanted him to feel every second, to know exactly what he was about to do.
I unhooked the bra straps slow, letting it fall without hurry. My skin reacted to the air, nipples hard not from the cold, but from the anticipation. I slid the panties down with the same slowness, feeling them slip over my thighs, the damp fabric giving away that my patience was gone.
I stopped there. Naked. Smooth. All my curves and openings exposed for him.
The silence stretched long, intense.
I took a step closer, smiled.
“So? You gonna fuck me or what?”
And then, it all exploded in fury.
He came at me like an avalanche, no warning, no control, and I met him with the same fire. His body crashed into mine, and in a rough move, he wrapped me in a hot embrace, pulling me against him. His hand dove between my legs without any bullshit, eager fingers finding my wet, throbbing center. A rough moan escaped my throat as he lifted me into the air easy, my legs wrapping tight around his waist.
I kissed him hungrily, breathless, no holding back. His mouth devoured me, teeth scraping, sucking, tugging my lips until it hurt. Spit, heat, wetness — it was all raw, a fight with no room for gentleness. As he carried me to the bedroom, I writhed against him, grinding on his body, feeling the hardness pulsing under his pants.
When we got there, he threw me onto the bed with a hard shove, my body sinking into the soft sheets. I laughed, still dazed, panting, but before I could react, I watched him start stripping for me.
His eyes never left mine, his face loaded with desire and possession, like I was something he’d waited too damn long to claim. His shirt flew across the room, followed by his pants unbuttoned in a rush. My gaze dropped, and there he was — hot skin, rigid muscles, veins popping on his forearms as his fingers ran over his own body, like he wanted to shred any barrier between us.
But I didn’t wait.
I didn’t give him time to climb on the bed or take charge. I crawled to the edge, sliding like a predator on the hunt, eyes fixed on him. I grabbed his cock hard, hot and throbbing in my hand, and pulled him to me, burying my face against it without warning.
He let out a deep, guttural sound, a muffled curse, his hands going straight to my hair. But I had him there, firm between my lips, and I had no intention of easing his torment.
I sucked like I was born for it, like I wanted to break him, like I’d been starving for him forever. My mouth went down hot and sloppy, my tongue sliding along the hard length, swirling at the tip, sucking hard.
My nails dug into his firm ass, pulling him to me, guiding him to give me more, to take my mouth however he wanted. I wanted to feel him lose control, hear his breath break, make him understand I was there to shatter any resistance left.
And I felt it. The tension building in his body, muscles contracting, fingers burying in my hair, pulling hard, holding me like reins as he thrust deep into my mouth, no hesitation, no mercy.
I grabbed his balls, squeezed, pulled, twisted, bit. I wanted to rip something from him — a moan, a curse, a weakness. I wanted to hurt, to bruise, make him feel pain. But he didn’t break.
He took control of me.
A hot, precise spit hit my face. My eyes widened before I even felt the stinging slap between my legs, right on my pussy, making me gasp in shock.
“Turn that ass around, you slut. I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t take it, fuck.”
I was shoved forward, flipped onto all fours like a rag doll tossed on the bed. Tits sinking into the mattress, legs spread, I felt the cool air hitting my open, throbbing pussy. The contrast was a shock, a shiver running through me like lightning.
He grabbed each cheek of my ass hard, fingers digging into my sensitive flesh, spreading me without mercy. It hurt, yeah. But the pain melted when I felt his teeth sinking into my ass, biting, licking, teasing until I shook.
I moaned into the sheets, teeth gripping the fabric, trying to hold back the screams. His hand slid down to my pussy, rubbing rough, no delicacy, no bullshit about pleasure theories or soft touches. It was brutal. Animal.
Violent with me.
The slaps cracked between my legs, against my outer lips, making the burn sear my skin. Four fingers shoved inside me, stretching me wide, invading without patience. My body reacted like a dam breaking. I squirted liquid out, felt it running down my thighs, soaking everything.
And then it came.
A hot spit on my ass.
Right after, a whole finger buried without warning.
“No, fuck… stop!”
My voice came out shaky, caught between shock and unbearable pleasure.
But he didn’t stop.
He pushed harder against me, both hands opening my holes, stretching me, driving me to the edge of madness. Pain. Pleasure. I couldn’t tell them apart anymore. I cried from joy while the orgasm lurked like a ghost beside us, circling, threatening to take me completely.
I was gonna come right there, trapped in his hands, torn apart by the clash of agony and ecstasy. But when my body started signaling, when my moans trembled in anticipation and my belly clenched, he stopped.
My mouth opened in a silent protest, my mind in despair over the pleasure ripped away.
“Get a hold of yourself, you slut. You only come when I say.”
And then, without warning, he took me.
His huge cock slammed into me before I could register, sliding deep, no hesitation, no mercy. My body swallowed him whole, but the real sense of his size hit when I roared in pain from the thrust pounding my cervix. The impact echoed inside me like an explosion, making my spine shake. My body arched forward, nails tearing the sheets as the sensation ripped through me. I was open, vulnerable, surrendered to his total dominance.
He pounded me with thrusts, each brutal drive echoing through the room, the sharp smack of his flesh against mine mixing with the rough moans tearing from his throat. His breathing was ragged, full of urgency, and his groans came like angry roars, like he was punishing me for something even he couldn’t name.
I barely had time to process the pain of the first hit before my body gave in, dragging me to the edge. I came without warning, without control, like I was yanked out of myself and swept to another plane. The wave of pleasure consumed me whole, but he didn’t stop.
He kept me there, locked in the cycle, forcing me to feel every second. I tried to twist away, hands clutching the sheets for escape, but he wouldn’t let me. His nails dug into my skin, holding me in place, pinning me under him as he kept fucking me without pause, without respecting my moment.
I was at his mercy. My body wasn’t mine anymore.
And I came again. And again. And again.
It was a vicious cycle, maddening. I cried out to the heavens, moans broken, senseless words spilling from my mouth. I begged, pleaded, not even knowing if I wanted it to stop or last forever.
Until he stopped.
My breath still came in gasps when I felt the movement behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw his hand coming toward me, fingers firm as they tangled in my hair, pulling hard.
“Open your mouth.”
I opened without hesitation, lips parting in obedience, closing my eyes on reflex, waiting for what was coming. But I wanted to see.
He jerked off in front of me, tight grip on his own cock, rhythmic strokes accompanied by a low rumble in his throat. Tension ran through his muscles, and I knew he was on the edge.
And then it came.
The thick cum shot through the air and hit me full force.
Eyes, nose, mouth.
It was hot. Sticky. The heavy load ran down my face, sliding in warm strings over my skin. A satisfied smile formed on my lips as I ran my fingers slow, spreading it, playing with the fluid marking my skin. With my tongue, I licked what I could reach, tasting him like a prize, sucking my fingers one by one until I was clean.
He watched me in silence. Didn’t say a word. Just stepped back and left the room, leaving me alone.
“Probably hitting the bathroom,” I thought.
My body still trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure as I leaned back against the messed-up sheets. The air smelled like sex, and I could still feel the echo of our violent fit reverberating between my legs.
When he came back, he turned off the light, bringing darkness, lay on the bed, and with a lazy gesture, called me over.
I blinked, surprised. He wanted more. My admiration grew along with my arousal.
I climbed on top of him without hesitation, my hands sliding over his chest as I straddled his waist. My body already knew the way. I gripped his base, feeling the unmistakable heat and hardness, and slowly guided his cock back inside me.
My tits hardened instantly, getting sensitive again, like my body was reignited at the first touch. The fit was perfect, tight, hot.
Now I had the control.
And I decided to use it to put on a show.
I started riding him with command and skill, mixing deep strokes and slow grinds, letting him feel every muscle of mine clenching around him. His hands slid over my thighs, guiding my hips to his rhythm. But it was when I felt the cool touch of a finger sliding over my ass that my body tensed in response. He was patient now, no rush. Just prepping me, a finger exploring precisely, getting me used to what was coming. A cold liquid was applied there to make it easier, the lube would help with the job. He didn’t ask, just did it. And I knew exactly where this was going — he was gonna fuck my ass, and it made me anxious.
I was riding him when suddenly he pulled me down against him, my skin sticking to the heat of his chest. At first, I didn’t get his plan. “He wants to fuck me like this?” I thought it would be tricky.
But then I felt it.
Something that wasn’t him or me, brushing my ass, rubbing slow, exploring, testing the limits of my surrender.
“Oh God… what the fuck is that?”
I yelped in surprise, not believing it.
My voice came out in a shaky whisper. Instinctively, I tried to turn to see, but his hand was quick, holding my face, keeping me captive, not letting me escape.
And then, without warning, my ass was invaded mercilessly.
My eyes went wide, my whole body tensed, and I gathered all my remaining strength to see who it was. Even in the dark room, even in the dim haze of desire, I’d recognize that shadow, that presence.
The scent of the cologne that soaked my clothes.
The touch that had been mine so many times.
It was him.
My boyfriend.
My breath caught in my throat as he buried himself in me, forcing me to take him while his friend kept fucking me from below. The shock ran through my body like lightning, and I trembled — from pain, from surprise, from an unbearable pleasure I couldn’t name.
I was wrong.
Had they planned this?
My mind tried to make sense while my body was consumed.
I shook. From pain, from shock, from fear.
My body froze between pleasure and terror, between surrender and humiliation. My ass was taken, impaled without mercy while, beneath me, his friend kept fucking me relentlessly. My chest heaved, my mind scrambled for explanations that didn’t come.
Was this real?
Had they set this up? I asked myself again.
I moaned something unintelligible, a protest or maybe a silent plea for them to keep going. But my mouth couldn’t form words. My holes were filled to the limit, stretched, squeezed between the two men who now moved together inside me, shoving me back and forth like they were fighting for space.
The pleasure was torture.
I felt it all at once — the crushing pressure, the unbearable heat, the stinging pain, the sudden urge to come, to piss, to explode, to shatter. I didn’t know what was stronger. The weight of my boyfriend’s hands slapping my ass cheeks, the loud smacks of flesh on flesh, or the way they pushed me forward and back, one force against the other, using me, consuming me, turning me into something that wasn’t mine anymore.
My moans turned shaky, broken by the tears starting to stream down my face.
“See what happens, you bitch?”
My boyfriend’s voice cut through the air, cold, ruthless, laced with the sounds of his thrusts.
“Taking steps bigger than your legs!”
With every word, he slammed deeper, tearing into me without mercy. His friend stayed quiet now, eyes shut, face twisted in pleasure and effort.
They thrust into me, and my body yielded, pulsed, throbbed.
I cried.
And I came.
My orgasm hit like a tidal wave, body spasming out of control as my pussy clenched around his friend’s cock. My boyfriend laughed, a low, cruel sound.
“Look at this slut… coming with two cocks inside her.”
My legs gave out, and they held me up, no strength left to support myself. Then their moans got rougher, shorter, movements erratic, more brutal, more urgent.
I knew what was next.
My boyfriend buried himself all the way in my ass, pressing me down against the other, his body shaking as he let out a guttural growl. A viscous heat filled my insides. His friend followed right after, gripping my hips hard as he unloaded everything inside me, buried as deep as he could.
I felt empty and full at the same time.
The room went quiet, just heavy breaths filling the space. My body trembled, trying to process it all.
Then, without warning, my boyfriend shoved me off him.
I fell onto the sheets, weak, dazed, with fluids leaking from all my holes, not fully grasping what was happening. When I lifted my face, I saw them both getting dressed, pulling on their clothes.
“Get dressed.”
My boyfriend said it cold, no trace of affection.
I blinked, trying to understand.
“What?”
He looked down at me, eyes full of something I’d never seen before.
“Get out. And don’t come looking for either of us again.”
My heart sank.
“But…”
“You’re a cheater. A slut who can’t follow one simple rule.”
He laughed, sarcastic, pulling on his shirt.
“You wanted it all? Now you got nothing. You’re done!”
I looked at his friend, searching for any hesitation. But he just looked away, finished dressing, and left the room without a word.
I stayed there, naked, dirty, fucked, body still shaking from the orgasm and the humiliation.
I got up quietly, grabbed my clothes scattered on the floor, and left.
The night felt colder now.
I never went back to them.
ATTENTIONIt’s always good to remember that non-consensual sexual relations are rape. This story is a fictional literary work — don’t be idiots and try something like this without consent, okay?