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I still can’t get the image out of my head. I keep seeing it every time I close my eyes—CeCee underneath him, tiny and trembling, her dark hair spilling everywhere while Marcus just… owned her. I’m sitting here in the dark right now, dick in my hand again, hating myself for how hard I get thinking about it. It’s been three days and I’m already melting just typing this.
We’d talked about opening things up for so long. CeCee was always shy about it at first, blushing when I’d bring it up, but I could tell the idea turned her on too. She’d get wetter when we roleplayed it, whispering things like “what if someone bigger fucked me?” I thought I was in control. I thought I was the one pushing us into this.
I picked Marcus because he’s safe. Or I told myself he was. He’s this tall, ridiculously handsome Black doctor at the hospital—looks like he walked off a movie set. Perfect smile, deep voice, the kind of confidence that makes you feel invisible next to him. We’d had him and his ex over for dinner a couple times. CeCee always lit up around him—laughing at his stories, touching his arm when she passed the plates. I told myself it was nothing. Then one day at work I half-joked about swinging, and he didn’t laugh it off. He just looked at me with that slow smile and said, “Your wife’s beautiful, man. I’ve always thought so.”
That was it. We invited him over last Friday.
I sat in the chair in our bedroom like some pathetic prop. CeCee was nervous at first—giggling, hiding her face—but when he kissed her, really kissed her, something shifted. She melted into him. When he stripped her down and I saw how small she looked against his body… fuck. Then he pulled his cock out. All this psychology is flooding my senses. I see her butterfly tattoo near her naval, that he is admiring. He kissed and licked her all over. I’m a little Bi, so I watched his ass and balls dangle as he was eating her out.
I wasn’t ready. It was long, thick, dark, veined—way bigger than mine, way bigger than anything I’d imagined. CeCee’s eyes went wide. She stared at it, lips parted, like she couldn’t believe it was real. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around it—her little hand didn’t even close all the way—and she whispered, “Oh my God…”
He laid her back on our bed, spread her legs, and pushed in slow. CeCee gasped so loud it echoed. Her hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging in. It was like she was tranced and wanted to devour his whole self. She looked right at me, eyes glassy, mouth open in shock and pleasure.
That’s when he started making her talk.
“Tell your husband how much you love this dick, CeCee.”
She hesitated, breathing hard. Then she looked straight at me and said it, voice shaking: “I… I love your dick, Marcus. It’s so big… it’s kinda painful it’s so big… I’ve never felt anything like this.”
My stomach dropped. My cock throbbed harder. I wanted to disappear and I wanted to watch forever.
He kept going—slow, deep rolls of his hips that made her whole body rock. “Tell him you’re gonna keep fucking me. Tell him this pussy’s mine now.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks but she didn’t look away from me. “I’m gonna keep fucking him,” she whispered. Then louder, because he thrust harder: “I can’t stop. I need this… I need his cock. She even let out, I love you in the heat.”
He grinned at me over her shoulder. “You ever had anything this big, baby?”
“No,” she moaned. “Never. It’s… it’s hitting places I didn’t know I had.”
He flipped her onto her stomach then. Pushed her flat against the mattress, ass tilted up just enough, and sank in so deep she cried out. Her fingers clawed the sheets. She was whimpering his name—Marcus, Marcus—like she’d forgotten mine existed.
“Tell him this isn’t the first time I’ve been inside you, CeCee.”
My heart slammed so hard I thought I’d be sick. She turned her head, cheek pressed to the pillow, eyes locked on mine, tears streaming.
“We fucked last weekend,” she said, voice breaking. “While you were gone to your mom’s. He came over… bent me over the kitchen counter… fucked me raw and came inside me. Twice. I’ve been thinking about his cock every single day since. I’m addicted to it.”
I felt hollow. Like someone punched through my chest and scooped everything out. And God, I was so fucking hard it hurt.
Marcus laughed low in his throat. “That’s right. This little Vietnamese pussy’s ruined for you now.” He pressed his big hand low on her belly—right where he was buried balls-deep. “I’m gonna breed her. Put a baby right here. And you’re gonna sit there and watch me fill her up.”
CeCee shattered then—screaming his name as she came, body shaking so hard the bed creaked. He didn’t stop. Just pounded through her orgasm until he groaned deep and locked himself in, pumping her full. I could see it—his cock twitching, her pussy clenching around him, milking every drop. When he finally pulled out, thick white cum immediately leaked out of her, running down her thighs, pooling on the sheets we sleep on every night.
He looked right at me, still glistening, still half-hard. “Your turn to clean her up if you want, man. Or just sit there and stare at what I left in your wife.”
CeCee reached a trembling hand toward me. Her voice was soft, wrecked, almost gentle. “Come here, honey… please.”
I crawled over. I didn’t even think. I just did it. Tasted him leaking out of her. Tasted how much she’d wanted him. How much more she wanted him.
It’s been three days. She’s been texting him constantly. I see her phone light up and my stomach twists, but my dick gets hard anyway. Last night she whispered in my ear while we were in bed, “He wants me again this weekend. Alone first… then maybe you can watch.”
I didn’t say no.
I don’t know who I am anymore. I just know that every time I picture Marcus stretching CeCee open, filling her, claiming her… I come harder than I ever have in my life.
And it fucking kills me.
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