Chapter 6
This story is real, and I gotta tell you about the only time I ever cheated on my husband — or anyone — in my whole life. They say, “Either you satisfy your woman in bed, or someone else will come along and do it.” And that’s exactly what happened.
I know I’m the bad guy in this story, but try to understand me. I’ve always had a high sex drive, and he never kept up. He was grossed out by everything, wouldn’t try anything, and get this — he was the only guy I ever knew who didn’t want anal with a woman. That shit ate away at me with curiosity, gnawed at me with desire. But I never went looking for anyone else besides him.
Until one day, this hot guy from high school found me on Instagram. The chat started innocent enough, but soon the devil got involved. He was the total opposite of my husband: a self-admitted player. He talked dirty without any filter, sent teasing pics, and me? I fell hard for his smooth talk. The guy had insane charm, which made everything that came after way too easy.
He’d tell me about his experiences, the places and people he’d been with, and it was impossible not to compare. Little by little, I realized how shitty my sex life was. And that built up anger. Anger at my husband, that idiot who didn’t even like eating my pussy.
I just needed an outlet. To give you an idea, in ten years together, I never fucked him while I was on my period. Blood’s gross, right? But I wanted more, I needed more. So I gave in. We started slow: virtual sex, swapping nudes… until one day I decided to try it for real. I set up a meetup.
And my husband? He didn’t even notice my sudden obsession with Instagram, or the hours I’d spend in the bathroom, touching myself to the voice of some stranger. He just didn’t pay attention. Or maybe… he never really cared about me.
On the day of, I went all out. I picked an outfit that hugged every curve of my body and fresh lace lingerie, the kind made to be ripped off. I changed in front of my husband, slow and deliberate, letting him see my freshly shaved skin, smooth and soft, all prepped. But like always, he didn’t even ask why. Not a single hungry look, nothing.
I grabbed my car and drove to the guy’s apartment. A simple place, but tidy enough to show he took care of himself. Single, divorced — and ironically, because of cheating. But who was I to judge?
When I walked in, there was no time for second thoughts. He was there in just his boxers, waiting for me, a strong body marked by obvious muscles, thick arms, broad chest, that commanding male presence that takes over, that dominates. Before I could say a word, his firm hands grabbed my waist, pulling me into an intense kiss, the kind that flips your stomach and melts your body on the spot. I didn’t even have to think. My body had already decided for me.
Our clothes hit the floor fast, like we were both starving for each other. He didn’t waste time, gripped my waist hard and shoved me against the wall. His lips trailed down to my neck, hot and hungry, and when they reached my tits, a shiver ran down my spine.
Unlike anything I’d ever experienced, he didn’t just suck — he devoured. His tongue circled slow around my nipples before sucking them with a force that made my whole body react. He’d nip lightly, pull, while his strong hands squeezed my waist, slid down my back, holding me there, surrendered. My husband never did that. Never sucked me like this, with that mix of hunger and pleasure, like he was addicted to my body. My moans came out on their own, and I could already feel my panties soaked, desire throbbing inside me.
He scooped me up like it was nothing, like I weighed zero, and carried me to the couch. The cool leather against my hot skin made me shiver, but before I could say anything, he was standing in front of me, boxers tossed aside, his cock hard, thick, pulsing. My heart raced. I barely had time to react before he grabbed my hair hard and guided my mouth to him. The scent of man, of raw desire, made me dizzy. His fingers tangled in my hair, yanking my head back before forcing me against him.
The tip brushed my parted lips, and I was already drooling before I even tasted him. And when I did, I moaned. A muffled sound of pure pleasure. He wasn’t asking, wasn’t waiting for me to take the lead — he was fucking my mouth, dominating every inch of me. Each thrust was a delicious shock, my eyes watering, my throat opening to take him. And I loved it. I sank into that feeling of being used, of being wanted in that rough, dirty, intense way. My hands gripped his rigid thighs, feeling every tensed muscle as he held me firm. I was exactly where I wanted to be.
He pulled away suddenly, yanking his wet cock from my mouth with a pop. He tossed me back on the couch without any effort, like I was a toy in his hands. Before I could catch my breath, he grabbed my legs and hoisted them high, folding my body in a way that made me gasp. I’d never been exposed like this. No one had ever taken me this way, without shame, without hesitation. My husband barely touched me there right, and now this man had me spread open, vulnerable, totally at the mercy of his hunger.
Then I felt it.
The first lick was like an electric shock, thick and wet, sliding from my pussy to my ass without any gentleness. My head fell back, and a moan tore from my throat. He wasn’t eating me out. He was devouring me. His tongue plunged deep, spreading my hot arousal, mixed with the cool room air that made everything feel even more intense. My scent rose up, thick, blending with his sweat, the musky smell of a real man.
My legs shook when he sucked my clit hard, his rough beard scraping my skin, his huge hands holding my thighs open like they were his property. And then came the fingers. One first, sliding in easy because I was already drenched. Then another. And another. He shoved them deep, pressing the right spot, while his tongue circled my ass, hot and ravenous.
I was screaming, lost, but he didn’t stop.
When the orgasm hit, I writhed, tried to pull away, but he held my legs spread wide, pinning me there. His mouth kept going, sucking, licking, while his fingers fucked my pussy without mercy. One, two, three inside me, while a thick finger pushed into my ass, forcing me to open up more, to feel more.
And then another orgasm. And another. My body convulsed, the couch already slick with my juices, my mind sinking into a haze of pleasure and desperation. The smell of sex filled the room, hot and thick, mixed with the heat of his skin against mine. He didn’t let me breathe, didn’t give me time to beg for a break. His tongue wouldn’t quit, his fingers plunged in and out with ferocity, triggering waves of pleasure that blurred together until I couldn’t tell where one orgasm ended and the next began.
“I… I need to breathe…” I begged, my voice breaking between moans and desperate gulps of air.
He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed my feet and laughed, a rough, lust-filled chuckle.
“Breathe when you’re with your husband.”
The shiver down my spine wasn’t just excitement. It was surrender. He wasn’t gonna stop. Wasn’t gonna ease up. And I didn’t want him to. He flipped me over roughly, my body already limp, surrendered, but still sensitive to every touch. My face against the couch, breathing hard, and before I could brace myself, I felt his firm hands push my belly down, spreading me wide open.
His tongue came back, merciless, diving between my soaked folds and up to my ass. My skin burned with arousal, each lick mixing heat, spit, and sweat. He switched between sucking and plunging his tongue deep, while his fingers slid back inside me, no fuss, fucking me hard. I was in another world, lost between muffled moans into the couch and the wet sounds of our sex.
“Hey…” I tried to say between gasps. “Can I ask for something…?”
That was the only moment he paused. A tense silence. I felt his hot breath against my skin.
“Sure thing.”
I bit my lip, heart pounding. My husband would never go for this. Never even considered it. But there, on that couch, in that night where I was being treated like a real woman, there was no room for fear.
“Can you fuck my ass, please?”
His laugh was a low rumble. He dragged his tongue slow between my cheeks, teasing, making it clear he was gonna make me beg a little more.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He chuckled low, a sound loaded with mischief. His hands slid over my waist, firm, pulling me even closer to him. I felt small, dominated, totally at the mercy of this man who seemed dead set on teaching me what it really meant to get fucked.
The tip of his cock brushed my wet pussy, spreading my own arousal before he slammed into me all at once, burying himself to the hilt. A raw jolt of pleasure shot through me, my mouth opening in a loud moan, my fingers clutching the couch like it could anchor me to reality. He wasn’t gentle. Wasn’t slow. It was like he knew I wanted exactly this: to be taken, possessed, fucked without limits.
Each thrust was hard, powerful, making my body rock with him. With every push, his hand slid to my ass, fingers exploring my hole, spreading my hot slickness. First one, then two, twisting, forcing my entrance to relax while he kept pounding my pussy with his thick cock, sinking me deeper into that perdition.
Hot spit dripped between my cheeks when he hawked right onto my ass, rubbing it in with his fingers, opening me up for what was coming.
“You feel that?” his voice came deep and gravelly, full of lust. “Your little asshole’s already begging for me.”
I was moaning, panting, every fiber of my body craving more, surrendering to the rough, dirty, desperate pleasure. My own body arched toward him, begging without words.
He switched it up, plunging deep into my pussy, sliding his cock out just so his fingers could work my ass again, prepping, forcing, stretching. The mix of my arousal and his spit made everything hot, wet, filthy.
Until he gripped me harder, making it clear playtime was over.
“Now I’m gonna give you what you asked for.”
And without hesitation, he started to push.
He held my waist firm, controlling every move, every reaction from my body. His breath was hot against my skin, and I felt it when the head of his cock pressed against my tight ass entrance. My body tensed up instantly, a shiver of fear and excitement racing down my spine.
“Relax…” he murmured, running his hand over the curve of my ass, spreading more spit, more lube, his fingers massaging my hole in a way that made me gasp. “I know what I’m doing.”
Slow, real slow, he started to push. The pressure was intense, a burn of pain and desire inside me, my body trying to adjust to the thick, throbbing intruder. He didn’t force it, just eased in millimeter by millimeter, letting me feel every inch settling inside. I moaned, first from discomfort, then from a weird satisfaction realizing he was there, filling me in a way I’d never felt before.
When he was fully in, he stayed still for a moment, letting my body get the new sensation. His hands ran down my back, holding me steady, as he started to move, rhythmic, intense, but not brutal.
And then, without warning, he slid slowly out of my ass and straight into my wet pussy, making my whole body twist.
“Fuck… you’re tight as hell,” he growled, voice thick with lust as he thrust deep back into my pussy.
I moaned, lost in the contrast of sensations. He alternated, pulling out of one completely to enter the other, throwing my body into a whirlwind of pleasure and confusion. My ass still throbbed from the recent invasion, and when he pushed back into it, my mouth flew open in a moan I couldn’t control.
Each thrust pushed my body to new limits, my own desire mixing with the slight pain, the insane pleasure of getting fucked like this. He knew exactly how to use me, how to open me up more and more, without letting the heat drop for a second.
My orgasm hit like a shockwave, a hot overwhelming rush that made me scream into the couch, my legs shaking as he kept going, relentless, still switching, keeping me in that state of pure ecstasy.
And then I felt him grip my hips hard, the rhythm getting more intense, deeper.
“I’m gonna cum in your ass,” he warned, voice rough, taken over by raw desire.
With one last thrust, he buried himself all the way in, his whole body tensing as his hot cum spread inside my ass. I moaned loud, feeling every spasm, every hot spurt filling my already sensitive hole.
He stayed there, breathing heavy, before pulling my waist back and whispering in my ear:
“Hold it. Don’t let it out.”
My body shuddered at his words, my ass still pulsing around him, the feel of his warm cum inside making me feel completely owned. I closed my eyes, bit my lip, and did exactly what he said. I held it.
Sorry to cut off at the peak of the scene, but I had to get home. Couldn’t stick around, even though every muscle in my body begged for rest, for more, for him. I got dressed slow, feeling the hot fluids still leaking inside me, soaking my skin with the scent of the best fuck of my life. In the car, driving back, I laughed to myself, a silly grin from someone who’d just lived a forbidden delirium. My panties? Not even worth washing. Straight to the trash.
When I got home, my husband came at me. Lukewarm. Apathetic. The same guy with no drive, no instinct, no look like he wanted to devour me. He gave me a mechanical kiss, and I let him taste it. Let the flavor of my lover’s cock invade his mouth, let his tongue touch the remnants of the sin I’d just committed.
“Wanna fuck?” he asked, no emotion.
“Yeah…” I replied, cold.
He came closer and started undressing me, not noticing the trail of dried sweat, spit, another man’s cum still soaked into me. He stripped me bare, something he almost never did. His eyes dropped between my legs, where my pussy was still swollen, red, reeking of strong lust, of use, of rough fucking. He wrinkled his nose.
“Wanna take a shower first? You stink…”
I smirked sideways, cynical, savoring his disgust.
“No. Just shove your dick in and get it over with.”
He didn’t question it. Just climbed on top of me, heavy, uncomfortable, like always. His body pressed into mine without rhythm, weak thrusts, no purpose, no heat. Just a dead in-and-out, automatic, a soulless marital duty.
I could feel my ass still pulsing, leaking cum, staining the sheets, filling the room with the mixed scent of semen and sin. The contrast was insane. His dead weight on me, his feeble pumps, the cold sweat of a man who never knew how to touch me.
But on my face?
A smile.
Because today, finally, I got fucked for real.