Free cuckold community
Sign up now!
Writing is coming a bit slower but I will finish this story. Thank you for hanging in there.
Billy’s POV –
Therapy had become the most honest hour of our week. We’d cried, we’d screamed, we’d fucked like animals the second we got home from every session. We’d learned new vocabulary: reclaiming sex, compersion, veto power, aftercare.
We’d learned that saying “I’m scared” in the middle of sex didn’t kill the mood; it made it burn hotter.
We were better. Not fixed. But better. Then the text came.
Luke – Yo. My 24th birthday is Saturday. Low-key thing at the house. Need my best friend there. No drama, I swear. Just good people, good music, cake that Amanda’s stressing over. Please come.
I stared at the screen until it went dark. Sara read it over my shoulder. “We should go,” she said quietly.
My stomach dropped.
“Kevin will be there.”
“I know.”
I turned to her. “You sure?”
She took my hand, pressed it to her chest so I could feel her heart racing.
“I’m terrified,” she admitted. “But Luke sat on your balcony that night and didn’t leave when you were falling apart. He’s checked on you every single day since. We owe him this.”
“I don’t trust myself not to deck Kevin the second I see him.”
“Then we make a plan,” she said, calm and steady. “Safe word is still ‘red.’ If either of us says it, we leave immediately, no questions. We arrive together, we leave together. We dont over drink until we’ve seen how it feels. And if Kevin so much as smirks wrong, I’ll break his nose myself.”
A laugh slipped out before I could stop it.
“You’d do that?”
“For you? Happily.”
We spent the week preparing like it was a military operation. • We role-played worst-case scenarios in therapy. • We practiced me saying “I need to step outside” without feeling weak. • We practiced Sara shutting down any flirtatious comment with a single look. • We even picked outfits that made us feel armored: me in the black shirt she says makes me look taller, her in a simple dress that was sexy but not an invitation.
Every night we ended up tangled in bed, whispering fears into each other’s skin.
“What if I get hard just seeing him?” I asked once, face burning.
“Then we come home and you fuck me until the only name I remember is yours,” she answered.
“What if you want him again?” I whispered another night.
“Then we talk about it tomorrow in therapy instead of letting it explode tonight,” she said, kissing my knuckles. “I’m not hiding anymore. Neither are you.”
Saturday –
We stood in the driveway of Luke’s house. Same house. Same string lights. Same faint smell of chlorine. My pulse was a war drum.
Sara took my hand.
“Look at me,” she said.
I did.
“We walk in together. We walk out together. Nothing happens tonight that we don’t choose. Okay?”
I nodded.
She squeezed once.
“Red and we’re gone,” she repeated.
I squeezed back.
We walked up the steps side by side. Luke opened the door before we could knock, huge grin, arms already open. “There’s my people,” he said, pulling us both into a hug that smelled like home. Inside, the music was low, the crowd smaller than last time. Amanda spotted us and practically sprinted over, eyes shining.
“You came,” she whispered, hugging Sara so hard they swayed.
I scanned the room without meaning to.
He was by the kitchen island, laughing at something Jared said. Our eyes met across the room. He lifted his beer in a small, neutral salute. No smirk. No swagger. Just acknowledgment. My chest tightened, but I didn’t look away.
Sara’s hand slid into mine, grounding me. Luke clapped me on the shoulder. “First drink’s on me. Whatever you need, brother.” I exhaled.
We stepped all the way inside.
The door shut behind us.
Whatever happened next, we were doing it together.
More to come…..
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.