Free cuckold community
Sign up now!
Below is the combined parts 1-4 collected and reposted here as a single post for ease of reading.
My wife and I began dating almost by mistake. We met through a Tinder match while we were both visiting our home towns during winter break. I was in my second year of law school, and she was a junior in college but not at the same school I was studying at. No, she was attending a university on the other side of the country. After going on a few dates during our winter breaks, we both went back to our respective schools. We got along well, and so we stayed in touch.
Well, staying in touch led to talking all the time, which led to us trying the long distance thing. The only problem was we both had high sex drives and liked to fulfill those drives. So we sexted. A lot. So much so that we fell into a routine with it. Almost every Friday after our classes we would let each other know we were going back to our apartments and looking forward to “seeing” each other. We “saw” each other almost every Friday until one Friday near the end of the school year when she said it would be a little later before sexting because she was going out that night with cast and crew from a play she was in.
The play’s run had wrapped and the cast and crew was celebrating. I was happy for her and thought it would be a good opportunity to get a little extra studying in as finals approached. I told her to have fun and I would talk to her later.
I occasionally checked my phone to see if she texted me. Nothing. I didn’t hear from her the rest of the night.
The next morning, I checked my phone. Still nothing. I figured she had a late night with friends and was going to be slow to rise. I decided to go for a run before heading to the library for the rest of the day. Right before heading out the door I got a text from her. I checked my phone and it stopped me in my tracks. It was the cliched “Hey, can we talk?”
Honestly, I chuckled because it was so cliched. I figured she went out with friends and decided she didn’t want to be in a long distance relationship anymore.
I responded, “Sure.” A few seconds later my phone rang and I answered. The next few minutes were a blur, but I knew something was off the second I answered because she was holding back tears.
She went on to tell me the story of her night. How she and her friends began the night going from one bar to the next, meeting more and more of the cast along the way. Eventually they settled into a bar that had a large dance floor and thought itself a mixed bar and club. She said she was pretty drunk at that point and was having fun dancing. She was dancing with her girl friends when a guy worked his way into the group. She said he wasn’t part of the cast or crew and didn’t recognize him, but she didn’t stop when he started dancing with her.
My heart was racing. She continued.
They danced, and she said he kissed her. All I could muster was, “Okay.” Then she said she didn’t stop him. She started crying and hung up.
I just stood there, still ready to go out the door, but in a bit of a shock. Frankly, I was just as shocked at my own reaction – or lack of reaction – as I was at what she just told me. I was surprisingly unfazed. I guess I had stilled myself for this. We were in a long distance relationship after all. A moment passed and I texted her, “You didn’t have to hang up. We can talk about this.” And so we did.
I started to probe what had happened.
Millie had already told me that the guy kissed her on the dance floor and she didn’t stop him. I wanted to know more. So I asked her if anything else had happened.
“I, uh, kissed him. I was drunk. He kissed me and I didn’t stop him,” she started divulging. My heart started picking up pace. I could feel my neck starting to burn a little. I’m sure I was starting to turn red. I think I audibly gulped. She continued, “We started making out while we were dancing and he was grabbing the back of my neck with one hand and my hips with the other. He was moving my hips with the music. I thought we were just dancing and then he kissed me.”
All I could muster was another, “Okay.”
“He was holding me so I couldn’t escape really,” she said almost as an excuse. “Did you want to?” I asked.
I’m sure what followed was only a second-long pause from Millie but it felt like an eternity. What was she going to say? That she wanted to push him away and run to her friends?
“No, I didn’t want to.” My heart sank. Now I knew I had turned red. Not from anger but from embarrassment. From angst. And from interest. I needed to know more. Now I needed to know everything. And so I started asking what happened next. Every detail needed to be divulged.
“We kissed on the dance floor. That was it.” I didn’t believe her. I know Millie. There is no “just kissing on the dance floor”.
I probed, “What really happened?” She knew I wouldn’t relent until I knew the truth. She gave in and started to tell me the truth. That they danced and kissed, and his hands moved from her hips and neck to her ass. She told me she was wearing her high waisted jeans that always drove me crazy. They shape her full ass perfectly so I could imagine how good she looked on the dance floor.
As she continued to tell me the details of her on the dance floor it felt like we were engaged in our own dance. We were moving in rhythm. I would ask for more detail, and she would resist. I would push, and she would acquiesce. She told me how his hands moved from her ass to her front button where he paused, seemingly asking for permission to undo it. She did tell me she pulled his hands away, but she guided him off the dance floor where they found a table and introduced themselves. It was there that I knew where this story was going to end.
I asked her bluntly, “Did you sleep together?”
“Yes,” she said. My face couldn’t go any redder.
I was still in a bit of a state of blur. I thanked her for being honest. We were both silent after that, almost waiting for the other to steer the direction of the discussion. She broke the silence, “Are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here. Just gathering myself.” I responded. I didn’t know what else to say to her, but she started to fill the silence.
“Do you want to talk about it? I understand if you don’t. I understand if you hate me.” Her speech was quivering. I could tell she holding back tears. She was barely able to get that out.
“No, I don’t hate you. I just need to think about all this.” I don’t know what I needed to think about. My girlfriend had slept with someone else. What was there to think about?
It was like she had read my mind because she responded, “What do you need to think about?”
I stuttered, “I don’t know exactly.” My heart was racing. “I just need a moment, I think. I’m going to go now.” I hung up before she could say anything else.
And there I was standing in my empty apartment, phone in my hand, heart jumping out of my chest. I decided my run could wait. I needed to lay down.
I went to my bedroom and climbed into bed. I was absolutely emotionally drained despite the phone call with Millie taking only minutes. I tried to nap to reset my mind but I couldn’t fall asleep. My mind was racing, my legs were stirring. I reached under my sheets to rip off my pants. Laying naked has always helped me sleep. After getting naked, my cool sheets felt great. I was starting to relax a little and when I did what I typically do – reach for myself.
I didn’t think I was in the mood to stroke myself. No, it was just habit. When my hand made contact with my cock I twitched and an image flashed across my eyes – Millie moaning, head back and hair a mess. Her long brown hair sticking to her neck, her tits sitting perky on her chest. It’s an image I had seen plenty, but this image was accompanied by a feeling of extreme angst knowing only last night that is how she could have looked when she was with a complete stranger.
I couldn’t get the image out of my head. I needed something else to replace it so I pulled up pictures Millie had sent me before. That helped for a moment, but my mind kept going back to thinking about her with someone else. The strange thing was I had gotten hard and the image of her with someone else wasn’t softening me. No, it’s almost as if the opposite was happening – that I was getting harder. I closed my eyes again, pictured her and started to stroke.
So there I was, stroking myself to the thought of Millie with another guy. And I was enjoying it. A lot. I started to pick up speed as I approached my climax, but right before releasing I decided to pull back. I needed to talk to Millie.
I called her back. I was holding my breath as the phone rang. A small part of me didn’t want her to answer. It rang, and I thought about hanging up when she finally answered, “You want to talk about it?”
I cleared my throat. “Yes.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I just need to know what happened.”
“I told you. I messed up. We left the bar and slept together.”
“No. I need to know how it happened.” My hand reached for my cock.
“Seriously?” She questioned. Her voice was so expressive I could see her eyebrows raise through the phone.
“Yes. I want to know.” As I finished my sentence I let out the slightest moan.
“What was that?”
“Oh my god,” I thought. She heard. What was I doing?
When I didn’t answer her question, she asked another. “Are you touching yourself?” Her voice wasn’t quivering anymore. It wasn’t inquisitive either. It was stern. Like a parent scolding a child.
I was caught and I couldn’t lie to her, so I told her I was and that I was confused. That I was just trying to sleep and started stroking myself and I couldn’t stop thinking about her. She knew then what I wanted when I told her I needed to know what happened.
“So you want to know how he fucked me?”
She knew the answer to her own question. She didn’t wait for me to answer before asking, “So you want to know how he fucked me from behind or how I rode him?”
“Oh my god, Millie.” I moaned her name. It’s all I could get out. The next few minutes were some of the hottest of my life. My girlfriend proceeded to tell me what I was – for some reason I couldn’t explain – absolutely dying to hear.
“We left the bar together. He was holding my waist and kissing my neck and you know I can get when my neck is kissed. I knew I wanted him and that it was a mistake but I just knew I needed him in that moment. I told him he could come back to my apartment. I ordered an Uber and we continued to make out while we waited.”
I cut her off. “Where were your friends in all of this?”
“They had left, but I don’t know if it would have mattered. I was drunk and so turned on. So we were waiting for the Uber and we were kissing. And I told him how I wanted him. The Uber finally arrived and we got in. He wanted to keep kissing me in the uber but I told him to wait until we got back.
“We finally got back and I showed him to the entrance. While we were waiting at the elevator he told me how badly he wanted me. It was really turning me on. Inside the elevator we were making out and he was grabbing my ass hard with both hands. He was almost lifting me up to him like you do.
“When it got to my floor I led him to my door. As soon as it opened he was grabbing me and pulling my shirt up over my head.”
She paused. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Yes,” I moaned. I wanted nothing more in that moment.
“My shirt was off and my pants were next. I completely stripped my bra and panties for him next. I was standing there naked in the entry way and he was fully clothed. It was so hot. So I reached for his belt and got to my knees. You know how I like to be eye level when the boxers come off.
“So I helped him out of his pants and then put my fingers under his boxers’ waistband. I looked up at him as I pulled down. He was only smirking back at me. Then I looked forward and smirked back. He was good sized and gave him a little peck before grabbing him at his base and taking him into my mouth.
I cut her off again. “Fuck, you’re going to make me cum.”
“Good,” she said.
To be continued…