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Who would have thought that a shy college guy like me would end up with a girl as beautiful as Kate? It took me a long time to win her over. I remember having to watch her from afar for ages while other guys courted her much faster than I did, and I was just her cute friend the one she confided in with her stories and most intimate secrets.
Kate was the kind of girl who went unnoticed at first, but once you looked at her twice, you couldn’t stop. She had such an angelic face that anyone would swear she’d never been unfaithful in her life. I think that’s what the guys at her university liked most: the idea of having a woman like her in their lives, someone they’d marry, because most other girls already had such a “dark” past that they didn’t even deserve to be introduced to the family.
Kate is twenty-two, studying Literature at the state university, and she looks like she stepped out of an impressive painting: pale skin very white, just how I like it dotted with soft freckles across her cheeks and nose, the first thing that made me fall for her. Big, powerful green eyes that tilt slightly downward at the corners, giving her a permanent expression of shy curiosity. Her light brown hair falls just below her shoulders, always a little wavy, as if it air-dried after a shower, and it draws a lot of attention from the men around her whenever she walks. Kate isn’t tall she barely reaches five-foot-five but she has a delicate, beautiful, and exciting figure. She moves with an almost unconscious grace, with small but firm breasts, a narrow waist, and hips that are subtly outlined by the tight jeans she usually wears.
Kate always dresses simply: oversized hoodies, indie band t-shirts that almost nobody knows, and some worn-out Converse. After all, she once told me she loves Kurt Cobain. She’s a very smart girl in her classes, smiles little in public, but when she does, it’s as if the world stops for a second.
Alan, a friend of mine, had met Kate in their second year in an Introduction to Contemporary Poetry class. He studies Computer Engineering, but he took that course because he needed humanities credits to graduate, plus he had to join some extracurricular activity like everyone at this state university. However, he never wrote good verses like mine, which is why he never showed his to anyone. I used to laugh at what he wrote, and so did Kate.
Alan was the complete opposite of Kate. In appearance, he’s thin but athletic well-defined body, messy black hair that always looks great on him, dark eyes, and a jawline that stands out when he’s focused, making him look almost too handsome. At twenty-three, any girl would approach him or at least that’s what Kate and I always noticed. He comes from an Italian family that’s been here for generations, and whenever he speaks, he hides his accent, which only slips out when he’s drunk or nervous. He was the typical confident guy: good student, always ready with a joke.
As for my life with Kate, we started dating after I asked to borrow a poetry book she always carried in her backpack. That was almost two years ago. Now we live together in a small apartment near campus one of those places with old walls so thin you can hear the neighbor breathing or watching TV. We have a tiny kitchen where we barely both fit, and a bed that creaks every time we move a little too much or when we have sex.
Our life has become simple in many ways. Mornings are for classes, midday for university work, and we both do some remote jobs to cover expenses. Kate, for example, works at an independent bookstore where she spends hours recommending books nobody else reads, while I do remote technical support from the apartment couch, fixing problems for people who don’t even know how to turn on a router.
At night, we crash on the couch to watch series, or go out with friends on weekends if we’re not too tired. We have sex often, but always in a monotonous or rather, tender way, as if we’re both afraid of breaking something or hurting each other. Still, I adore that tender side of her, seeing Kate’s body like she’s a fragile girl who could slip from my hands at any moment. When we’re in bed, I kiss her slowly, whisper things in her ear, and she lets herself go, blushing and letting out soft moans that drive me crazy every time.
But in the last few months, I’ve started noticing something in myself that I don’t fully understand a strange feeling, like a mix of jealousy and a heat rising in my chest whenever I imagine (just imagine) another guy looking at Kate in a sexual or flirty way. It gives me an inexplicable excitement I can’t control. At first, I thought it was normal couple insecurity, maybe because our sex has felt a bit boring lately. I wondered if everyone feels this strange sensation with their partner at some point.
But then I started fantasizing. Sometimes in the shower, alone, I’d touch myself thinking about what it would be like to watch Kate with another, much more dominant guy, treating her like his own bitch while I watched the woman I’ll marry and have children with, who might never know their father was a cuckold in his life with their mother. Deep down, I don’t want it to actually happen… or do I? I don’t know. I feel guilty just thinking about it, but I keep it all inside, like a dirty secret I can’t even tell my best friend.
One afternoon, Kate comes home from work with flushed cheeks from the cold and a smile I hadn’t seen on her all week. She drops her backpack on the floor and takes off her hoodie with that slow movement that always distracts me when I see her exquisite body. Underneath, she’s wearing a tight white t-shirt that outlines her small breasts, and I can’t help staring a second longer.
“Today was a weird day,” she says as she walks toward the kitchen where I’m making pasta. Her voice sounds light and playful.
“A customer invited me for coffee after closing. Well, not exactly invited… more like he insisted on paying for mine when we ran into each other at the café next door,” Kate says while I look up from the pot, feeling a stab in my stomach that I try to ignore.
“A customer? The old guy who always buys vintage novels?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
Kate laughs in that angelic way that makes me smile too, even though I’m churning with jealousy inside.
“No, it was our friend Alan,” she says, looking at me closely. “He came in looking for a book he needed for university, and we ended up talking for half an hour. He’s… I don’t know, he was really nice today.”
I feel that stab again, stronger this time. Alan, my friend, I think. I try to picture it: tall, messy black hair, that smile that makes girls like Kate stop to chat for half an hour. But I smile, because I don’t want her to notice anything.
“Wow, the bookstore is getting interesting. Did you think he looked handsome?” I ask, stirring the sauce harder than necessary.
Kate shrugs, but I notice she blushes a little more, and that makes me swallow hard.
“He’s not bad. Tall, black hair… nice smile. We’ve talked about it before, Matteo—I always told you I think he’s handsome, but his arrogant attitude never made me fall for him. Anyway, we just talked about books.”
I keep stirring, pretending to be completely indifferent.
“Sounds good. Especially since we’re going to that party tomorrow at the residence hall. We’re going with the group, right?”
Kate looks at me surprised, blinking those green eyes that drive me crazy.
“Really? I don’t know if he’s coming… but that would be great.”
“Well, invite him. The more the merrier. Besides, I like people who read,” I say, laughing a little to make it sound natural.
Kate comes up behind me, hugs me around the waist, and rests her chin on my shoulder. Her warm body against mine distracts me for a second, but not completely.
“Are you sure? I don’t want it to bother you,” she whispers, her breath brushing my neck. For the first time, I feel chills all over my body from what Kate just did. I’d never seen this new side of her.
I turn around, kiss her forehead, smelling the vanilla shampoo she always uses before work.
“Bother me? Not at all. I like the idea of us getting closer to Alan. You’re locked up with books and me all day. It’ll do us good.”
She smiles, relieved, and nods.
“Okay, love. I’ll text him to see if he wants to come.”
That night, while we were watching a movie on the couch, I couldn’t concentrate. Kate was curled up against me, head on my chest, hand resting distractedly on my thigh. But my mind was elsewhere, imagining Alan. How did he talk to her? How did he look at her? Did he brush her hand when handing her the coffee? The thought gave me an uncomfortable erection that I tried to hide by shifting a little.
However, Kate doesn’t notice or at least she doesn’t say anything. I just feel her shift closer, settling against my crotch.
The next day, the party at the residence hall was the typical start-of-term bash: loud music echoing off the walls, cheap beer in red solo cups, and way too many people crammed into the common room, laughing and dancing like there were no classes the next day.
I arrive hand-in-hand with Kate. She’d dressed up more than usual, wearing a short black dress that hugged her body and ended mid-thigh, accentuating her slim, pale legs. She looked stunning, and I felt a surge of pride mixed with something darker as I noticed guys eyeing her when we walked in—as if they were undressing her with their gazes, imagining pushing me aside to take her back to some dingy dorm room and fuck her all night.
On the other hand, I spot Alan almost immediately; it’s impossible not to, since he’s nearly six-three. He’s wearing a tight gray t-shirt that shows off his broad shoulders and defined arms, like he spends hours at the gym. He’s laughing with a group near the drinks table, his deep, confident laugh drawing in a cluster of girls who seem to be waiting for him to pick one for the night.
Kate sees him at the same time and squeezes my hand a little harder.
“There he is,” she whispers, a slight tremor in her voice, as if she’s nervous. “Should I go say hi?”
“Of course,” I say, forcing a smile that I hope doesn’t look jealous. “Let’s go together.”
We approach. Alan spots us and his face lights up.
“Kate, what a coincidence,” he says in a deep, warm voice that cuts through the music. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“Matteo convinced me to come,” she replies, blushing as she points at me.
“Matteo, my friend long time no see. How’ve you been?” Alan says, looking me straight in the eyes and extending his hand. His grip is firm, confident, and for a second, I feel smaller next to him.
“Good, man long time,” I reply. “Nice to see you. Kate mentioned you two ran into each other yesterday. She says you’re still a wizard with computers.”
I laugh, trying not to sound forced.
“Over the top, but thanks. How’s the party?”
“Good, though I barely know anyone. Glad to see familiar faces,” he says, his eyes lingering on Kate a second longer, drifting down to her dress before returning to her face.
Time passes, and the three of us chat for a while. Alan is effortlessly good at keeping the conversation going telling stories from his computer engineering internships, cracking self-deprecating jokes that make Kate laugh more than usual. They listen to each other intently, as if every word matters. I notice how she tilts her head when he speaks, how her eyes sparkle a little brighter under the lights. And above all, I notice how Alan looks at her not overtly, but with genuine interest. His deep eyes occasionally drop to her legs when she shifts, then lock back onto hers. I can almost feel them silently acknowledging each other, saying “I see you” with their gazes. It makes me burn with jealousy and insecurity, so I try to pull Kate closer by wrapping an arm around her waist.
At one point, I head to get drinks, leaving them alone for a few minutes. My heart pounds as I walk away, imagining what they’re saying maybe he’s touching her arm, or she’s laughing at his jokes. When I return, I find them cracking up at something Alan said, and Kate has her hand lightly on his arm, an almost unconscious touch that twists a knot in my stomach.
“Here,” I say, handing them each a beer. My voice comes out drier than I intended.
“Thanks, Matteo,” Alan responds, raising his bottle. “To our friendship.”
We clink bottles. Kate glances at me with a shy smile, as if silently asking for permission. I catch it and smile back, but inside, that strange heat rises in my chest again a burning mix of jealousy and something else, something that excites and embarrasses me.
The night drags on slowly, as if time is stretching to torture me. Deep down, I think that if the party keeps going like this, Kate might end up sleeping with Alan. It hurts to imagine, but part of me desperately wants it to happen.
We dance in a group, drink more and more, and the music gets louder. At one point, the DJ switches to a slow song one with a rhythm perfect for couples to dance close. I turn to Kate to take her hand, but Alan beats me to it, extending his casually, as if I’m not even there. Seeing that makes me feel small, like the love of my life is slipping away or worse, like I might lose her forever. I’m drunk, my thoughts foggy, and I don’t know how to react to what feels like a small act of betrayal, though I quickly dismiss it.
“Dance?” Alan asks, his voice soft but with a challenge in his eyes.
She looks at me for a second, biting her lower lip the way she does when she’s unsure. I nod and shrug, as if it doesn’t matter.
“Go ahead. I’m heading to the bathroom,” I say, keeping my voice calm even as my heart hammers.
I step away but don’t go far. Instead, I linger in a dark corner, watching from afar. I see Alan place a hand on Kate’s waist, her hands resting on his broad shoulders. They lean in to talk, gentle and undeniably flirty. It stabs me with jealousy as they smile at each other, and Kate rests her head on his shoulder, exposing her pale neck. For the first time with Kate, I feel this mix: sharp, knife-like jealousy punching me in the gut, but also an excitement that shakes my whole body, making my pants tighten. I wonder why I’m hard, why I like watching this. For a moment, I hate myself for not stopping it for standing there like a cuckold.
When the song ends, Kate returns to my side, flushed and I’d say excited, with red cheeks and slightly messy hair.
“Everything okay?” she asks, taking my hand.
“Perfect,” I lie, pulling her close with a possessive arm. “I love seeing you have fun.”
She kisses my cheek; her breath smells like beer and something sweet.
“Thanks for being so great,” she whispers, leaning into me.
Eventually, we say goodbye to the party. I watch Kate slip away to find Alan and say her farewells. We’re all drunk, so I order an Uber home. I say goodbye to Alan too he looks at me with a hint of superiority, his eyes challenging, silently saying, “Your woman could be mine someday.”
Back at the apartment, super drunk, I start kissing Kate aggressively, undressing her and pressing her sculptural body against mine. For the first time, we’re rougher in bed as if Alan’s presence has ignited a need to claim her, even though nothing happened that night. I enter her slowly at first, like always, but when I close my eyes, I imagine it’s Alan fucking her, making her moan. That’s what drives my excitement.
“Did you like tonight, love?” I ask while I’m on top, her legs over my shoulders.
“Aaaahhhh yes, baby fuck me hard. Tonight I need to feel you deep inside me,” she moans in a way she’s never done before.
“I love how turned on you are tonight. Did dancing with Alan make you feel something different?” I ask, thrusting harder.
“Shut up, Matteo, and keep fucking me. Don’t mention that name just… keep going!” Kate moans.
I lose control and cum quickly, harder than ever, feeling her squeeze me like never before. But guilt floods me as I imagine Alan in my place. Kate pants beneath me, nails digging into my back, hips rising to meet each thrust.
“Matteo… deeper, please…” she moans, eyes closed, face flushed from the alcohol.
I kiss her passionately as I finish.
“Why are you so excited tonight? Tell me what you’re feeling, love…” I whisper, slowing to tease us both, my hand sliding down to caress her clit.
She arches, moaning loudly.
“I feel… aaaahhhhh… don’t stop, keep moving your hand… But you? Why are you so intense?” she gasps, opening her green eyes to look deeply into mine.
Burning jealousy mixes with excitement, making me feel like I’m betraying myself as I claim her.
“Because you’re mine… only mine…” I say, half-lying as I thrust harder, while my mind screams for more of this madness.
“Gooood, Matteooooo” She screams my name, trembling in a climax that pulls me with her.
In the quiet aftermath, her satisfied smile leaves me wondering if Alan has already claimed a corner of her thoughts.
I lie beside her, thinking I want more… I need to know how far this will go.
The next day, I see Kate radiant in the kitchen, preparing breakfast in just one of my t-shirts that reaches her knees, her bare legs distracting me as she stirs the eggs.
“Good morning, baby. Let me tell you Alan texted to thank me for the invite,” she says, showing me her phone with a smile. “He says he’d like to do it again sometime.”
I swallow hard, feeling that knot tighten in my stomach again.
To be continued… Exclusive content for lovers of cuckoldry, hotwives, consenting partners, cuckolders, and cuckolds
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