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he told me it was just a kink. something he liked to think about. said the idea of someone else fucking me turned him on. i didn’t really get it at first, but i played along. wore tighter things when we went out. flirted with the bartender a little. sent him pics from the gym locker room with captions like “what if i let someone ruin me here?”
he’d jerk off to the idea. told me i was his perfect little slut. told me i could flirt, tease, whatever — as long as i came home to him. but the first time i let someone else fuck me… i didn’t come home right away. it was this guy from work. cocky. tall. always saying shit that made me blush. we were at happy hour and i was tipsy, wearing a dress i’d picked just to see if he’d stare at my tits. he did. when he asked if i wanted a ride home, i said yes without even thinking about it. we ended up in his backseat. my legs spread over the center console. i told him i had a boyfriend. he said, “does he fuck you like this?” and shoved his cock inside raw before i could answer.
no condom. no hesitation. i came instantly. he was rough and messy and didn’t stop when i asked for a break. he just growled, “take it,” and kept going until i was shaking. i told him not to cum in me. he pulled out. aimed for my stomach. but i changed my mind. i begged him. “please,” i said, “inside.” and he pushed back in and filled me deep, all of it, thick and warm and impossible to ignore. i didn’t tell my boyfriend right away. he asked if i touched myself thinking about someone else that night. i said yes. he said, “good girl.” i didn’t correct him. and when the guy from work asked to do it again, i said yes before he finished the sentence.