It’s been two years since that night at Cade and Rachel’s house, the night that shattered my trust and left me reeling. I’ve been haunted by it ever since, replaying every moment, every look, every moan. The questions gnawed at me: Was it really spontaneous? Was Madison as caught up in the moment as she claimed, or was there more to it? Recently, someone on Reddit, after reading my post about that night, messaged me, asking point-blank if I ever confronted Madison about whether she’d been with Cade before. Their words hit hard: “Dude, the way she acted, it sounds like she was way too comfortable with him. You gotta ask her if this was the first time.” I couldn’t shake it. So, last night, I did. I sat Madison down, looked her in the eyes, and asked her to tell me the truth—had she been with Cade before that night? Her face went pale, and after a long pause, she broke down and confessed everything. What she told me was worse than I could’ve imagined.
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It started about a month after we met Cade and Rachel, maybe six months before her birthday. Madison and I were still new in our relationship, only two months in, and we were thrilled to have these cool, older friends with their big house, pool, and endless charm. They made us feel special, like we were part of something exclusive. But Madison said it was during one of our pool days at their place that things first crossed a line.
We’d been drinking mimosas by the pool, the four of us laughing and splashing around. I’d gone inside to grab more drinks from the kitchen, leaving Madison, Cade, and Rachel by the hot tub. Madison said she was feeling buzzed, her head light from the champagne, when Rachel suggested they all get in the hot tub. Madison, in her tiny bikini, climbed in, and Cade slid in next to her, closer than necessary. Rachel was there, giggling, egging them on with comments like, “Oh, Madison, you’re gonna drive my husband crazy in that suit.” Madison admitted she felt flattered, even turned on, by the attention. She said Cade’s hand brushed her thigh under the water, and instead of pulling away, she let it linger. That’s when Rachel, with a sly smile, said she was going inside to check on something, leaving them alone.
Madison’s voice shook as she recounted it. “I don’t know why I didn’t stop him,” she said, tears welling up. “It was like I was in a trance. The way he looked at me, the way he touched me—it felt so intense.” Cade’s hand moved higher, slipping under her bikini bottom, his fingers grazing her skin. She said she froze, her heart pounding, but her body betrayed her, responding to his touch. He leaned in, whispering how beautiful she was, how he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Before she knew it, his fingers were inside her, moving slowly, and she was gripping the edge of the hot tub, biting her lip to stay quiet. She said it happened so fast—within minutes, he’d pulled her onto his lap, her bikini bottom pushed to the side, and he was inside her.
The water sloshed around them as he thrust up into her, his hands gripping her hips under the bubbles. Madison said she was overwhelmed, her body trembling with pleasure and guilt. She’d never felt anything like it—his size, his confidence, the thrill of doing something so wrong. She came quickly, her nails digging into his shoulders, muffling her moans against his neck. He didn’t pull out, finishing inside her, and she didn’t stop him. When it was over, she slipped off his lap, adjusted her bikini, and sat there, stunned, as he acted like nothing had happened. Rachel came back out moments later, smirking, and Madison realized she’d probably known the whole time.
She swore to me it was a one-time thing at first. She felt sick with guilt afterward, avoiding Cade’s eyes for the rest of the day. But the seed was planted. Over the next few weeks, she couldn’t stop thinking about it—the rush, the way he made her feel. She said she tried to push it down, to focus on me, but Cade and Rachel kept inviting us over, and the tension kept building.
The second time happened a couple of weeks later. Madison said it was at another pool party, this time with a few other couples there. I’d been distracted, playing beer pong with some of Cade’s friends, while Madison slipped away to “use the bathroom.” She confessed that Cade had texted her earlier that day, something flirty but vague, like, “Can’t wait to see you in that bikini again.” She didn’t respond, but when she saw him at the party, all the memories came flooding back. She said he caught her in the hallway on her way to the bathroom, pulling her into a guest room and locking the door.
This time, there was no pretense. He pushed her against the wall, kissing her hard, his hands roaming under her cover-up. She said she whispered, “We can’t,” but her body was already giving in, her hands tugging at his swim trunks. He lifted her onto a dresser, spreading her legs and pulling her bikini to the side. She described how he fucked her fast and rough, her back slamming against the wall with each thrust. She wrapped her legs around him, urging him deeper, her moans barely muffled by his hand over her mouth. It was over in minutes, both of them breathless, and he came inside her again. She said she felt a mix of shame and exhilaration as she fixed her clothes and rejoined the party, praying I wouldn’t notice her flushed cheeks or the way she avoided my gaze.
After that, it became a pattern. Madison admitted they hooked up at least five more times before her birthday. Each time was at Cade and Rachel’s house—once in their garage during a game night, where he bent her over a workbench; another time in their master bathroom while Rachel and I were downstairs; and even once in their car in the driveway after a late-night hangout. Each encounter was quick, raw, and reckless, always unprotected, always driven by the thrill of sneaking around. Madison said Rachel knew about it all and encouraged it, sometimes dropping hints or creating opportunities for them to be alone. It was like a game to them, and Madison was too caught up in the excitement to stop.
When it came to her birthday, Madison confessed that the whole night was orchestrated. Cade and Rachel had been planning it for weeks, and Madison was in on it, though she didn’t admit that to me at the time. It started with a late-night text conversation a month earlier, when Rachel suggested a “special” birthday celebration. Cade had been blunt, telling Madison he wanted to fuck her in front of me, to “show me how it’s done.” Rachel thought it would be hot to watch and maybe join in. Madison said she was hesitant at first, knowing it would hurt me, but the idea turned her on so much she couldn’t say no. She admitted she’d been fantasizing about Cade more and more, especially after their secret hookups, and the thought of doing it openly, with me there, felt like the ultimate thrill.
They planned it carefully. Cade and Rachel would get us drunk, loosen us up with sexual banter, and suggest we have sex at their place. They knew I’d be uncomfortable but figured the alcohol and Madison’s enthusiasm would keep me from saying no. The condom issue was deliberate—Cade lied about not having any, knowing it would throw me off and give him an opening. Rachel’s role was to keep me distracted, to make sure I didn’t stop things before they escalated. Madison said she felt guilty but was too caught up in her desire for Cade to back out.
That night, as we stumbled upstairs, Madison knew exactly what was coming. When she stripped me down in front of them, she was putting on a show, playing into their plan. When I couldn’t perform, she wasn’t annoyed at me—she was acting, giving Cade the cue to step in. She admitted that when she saw his cock, her reaction wasn’t just instinct; she was already craving it, knowing how it felt inside her. As Cade climbed onto the bed, lining himself up, she opened her legs eagerly, her pussy already wet from anticipation. She said the moment he slid inside her, it was like every nerve in her body lit up. His thick cock stretched her, hitting spots I never could, and she lost herself in it, moaning louder than she ever had with me. Their kisses were deep, hungry, like they’d done this a hundred times before—because they had.
While Rachel worked on me, Madison rode Cade, her hips grinding against him, her hands clutching his shoulders. She said she could feel every inch of him, and when they switched to cowgirl, she was in control, slamming down onto him, chasing her orgasm. When they came together, his cock pulsing inside her, her pussy clenching around him, she knew he was filling her with his cum, and she wanted it. She admitted she didn’t care about the consequences in that moment—she was too lost in the pleasure, in the power of being watched, of having Cade claim her in front of me.
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