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A couple of years ago, my girlfriend and I hit a club. We were completely wasted, taking shots and dancing like crazy. At some point, the crowd swallowed her up and I lost sight of her. I started looking around, pushing through people, until I spotted her just a few meters away.
What I saw hit me like a truck. She was dancing with some random tall guy, grinding on him like they were a couple. His hands were locked on her hips, pulling her ass against him, and she was moving with him like she’d completely forgotten she even had a boyfriend. Like she was his for the night. They were that close, just a few steps from me, and she was letting him touch her everywhere.
I stood there frozen, watching him lean in and kiss her. Full on the lips. And she didn’t pull back. She kissed him hungrily, her arms around his neck while his hands roamed all over her body, sliding under her top, grabbing her ass. She was cheating on me right there in front of me, in plain sight, drunk and lost in it.
My heart was pounding: jealousy, anger, guilt, and this twisted arousal I couldn’t explain. I don’t even remember deciding to walk over. Next thing I know, I’m right beside them. I grabbed her hand. She turned, saw me, and just gave me this hazy, lust-filled smile. No guilt, no panic. The guy looked confused for a second, but then… something shifted. As we moved toward the back, his hand brushed against my cock over my jeans, gripping it briefly like he was testing me, claiming the moment.
She led us both to one of the tiny single-stall washrooms and locked the door. No words, just pure heat. We both yanked her bra down at the same time, groping her tits together, our hands all over her while she moaned into his mouth.
He sat on the toilet lid, pulled his cock out, and she straddled him immediately. No condom. Nothing. She sank down on him raw, taking every inch while I stood right there next to them, watching his bare cock slide deep into my girlfriend. She rode him hard, her pussy gripping him, wet sounds filling the tiny room. I had one hand on her back, feeling her move, while she turned to kiss me mid-ride, tasting like him.
I didn’t stop it. I couldn’t. Part of me was still reeling from watching her cheat on me just minutes earlier, right in front of my face. But now we were both using her, sharing her.
That night completely changed me and our relationship. I still jerk off thinking about how she let a stranger kiss and touch her like that just meters away from me, how he grabbed my cock like he owned the situation too. The jealousy burns, but fuck, it makes me hard every time.
She swears I’m the one she craves, that my BBC owns her pussy and I fuck her for hours better than anyone. And I do, pounding her raw, reclaiming her. But we both know that night cracked something open. We’ve never repeated it… yet. Sometimes when I’m deep inside her, I wonder if she’s thinking about how easily she cheated that night, and how much she loved taking him bare while I watched.
Still not sure if I’m a cuck, a stag, or just a guy whose girlfriend showed him his deepest kink in the messiest way possible.
Had to get it off my chest.
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