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That revelation hit me like a freight train, shattering everything I thought I knew about my marriage. Jack stood there in our living room, arms crossed, looking almost apologetic beneath that victorious smirk. Sarah clung to his side now, her eyes glazed with a mix of shame and that unmistakable lust. But Jack? He wasn’t gloating for long. Turns out, winning his little game was enough for him. He respected me, or what was left of our friendship, and didn’t want to drag this out into some ongoing drama. “Look, Mike,” he said, his voice steady, “I proved my point. She’s yours, always has been. This kid? I’ll be the cool uncle next door, help out with whatever. But let’s put this behind us, yeah? Back to barbecues and beers.”
I was numb, furious, heartbroken. All of it swirling in my gut. But what choice did I have? Divorce? With a baby on the way that wasn’t mine? We talked it out over the next few days, Jack mediating like some twisted therapist. He apologized for crossing the line, swore it was just to settle the “bet” I’d unwittingly started. Sarah begged for forgiveness, tears streaming, promising it was a mistake, that the hormones and neglect had gotten to her. Somehow, we patched things up. Jack went back to being the helpful neighbor. He was mowing the lawn, fixing the grill. Normalcy crept back in, or at least a facade of it. The kid would call him Uncle Jack, and we’d all pretend this never happened. For a while, it worked. Sarah’s pregnancy progressed, her belly rounding out with Jack’s seed, a constant reminder that twisted my insides. But the hormones kicked in hard, making her hornier than I’d ever seen. She turned to me first, desperate to reconnect. Our sex life reignited with a vengeance. She’d wake me up in the middle of the night, straddling me, her swollen breasts heaving as she rode me hard. “Fuck me, Mike,” she’d moan, grinding down on my cock like she was trying to erase the memories. I’d thrust up into her, feeling the tightness of her pregnant pussy, warmer and wetter than before. It was intense, her nails raking my chest, her moans filling the room as she came around me, clenching so tight it milked me dry. For weeks, it satisfied her, or so she said. We’d fuck missionary, her belly between us, or doggy style where I could grip her hips and pound away, watching her ass jiggle. “You’re my husband,” she’d whisper afterward, cuddling close. But I could see the flicker in her eyes, the unspoken comparison.
When that started fading, we spiced things up with toys. I bought a thick dildo online, bigger than me, trying to mimic what she’d craved. She’d lie back on the bed, legs spread wide, her pregnant glow making her look like a fertility goddess. I’d tease her clit with my tongue first, lapping at her juices until she was dripping, then slide the toy in slow. “Oh god, it’s so thick,” she’d gasp, her hands fisting the sheets as I worked it deeper, stretching her out. I’d fuck her with it while sucking on her nipples, hardened from the pregnancy, making her squirm and beg. Sometimes she’d use it on herself while I watched, humiliating in its own way, her eyes locked on mine as she moaned, “Imagine it’s him… but it’s you making me cum.” We’d incorporate vibrators too, buzzing against her clit while I took her from behind, the dual sensation sending her over the edge in screaming orgasms. It worked for a bit, keeping the fire alive, but I knew deep down it was a poor substitute. She was chasing that real thickness, that monster that had ruined her for me.
I could see it in her, the restlessness, the way her gaze lingered on Jack when he was over for dinner, pretending everything was fine. She’d shift in her seat, thighs pressing together, her hormones turning her into a needy mess. One night, after a failed session where she just couldn’t get off with me and the toys, she broke down. “Mike, I love you, but… I need him. Just once more. Please.” It gutted me, hearing her admit it, but what was more humiliating? Denying her and watching our marriage crumble, or swallowing my pride? I knew she wanted Jack’s thick cock, the one that had knocked her up, stretching her like a slut in heat.
I confronted Jack the next day, over a beer in his garage. “She needs you,” I muttered, hating every word. “The pregnancy… it’s making her crazy. Just one more time, to get it out of her system. Then we’re done.” Jack hesitated, rubbing his jaw. He respected me, he said again, didn’t want to wreck things further. But I could see the spark in his eyes, the remnants of that game. After some convincing, painting it as a mercy fuck to save my marriage, he agreed. “Alright, Mike. One last time. But you stay out of it.”
He came over that evening, while I waited downstairs like a pathetic cuck, listening to the sounds from our bedroom. Jack didn’t waste time. He had her stripped naked in seconds, her pregnant body on display, her belly swollen, her tits heavy with milk starting to come in. “Look at you, all knocked up with my kid,” he growled, pushing her onto the bed. “Still craving this fat cock, huh? Thicker than your hubby’s little prick.” She whimpered yes, spreading her legs as he knelt between them, his monster already hard and throbbing. He rubbed the head against her slick folds, teasing her entrance. “Beg for it, Sarah. Tell me how much better I am.”
“Please, Jack,” she moaned, hips bucking. “Your cock’s so much thicker… it fills me up like nothing else. Mike tries, but he can’t stretch me like you.” Humiliating words that echoed down to me, twisting the knife. Jack chuckled, easing in inch by inch, her pussy yielding to his girth with a wet squelch. “That’s right, take it all. Feel how I own this cunt.” He started thrusting, slow and deep at first, making her gasp with each plunge. Her hands roamed his back, nails digging in as he picked up speed, pounding her relentlessly. The bed creaked, her moans turning to screams: “Yes, fuck me harder! Your thick dick is ruining me!” He’d flip her onto her side to accommodate the belly, slamming in from behind, one hand on her tit, pinching the nipple until milk beaded out. “You’re my breeding slut now,” he taunted. “Hubby downstairs knows it. His wife’s pussy is molded to my shape.”
She came hard, multiple times. The first from his cock alone, clenching around him as he growled filthy praise, then again when he fingered her clit while buried balls-deep. Finally, he pulled out, making her suck him clean with her lips stretched wide around that thickness, gagging as he face-fucked her. “Swallow it all, like the whore you are.” He exploded down her throat, then flipped her for one last round, cumming inside her pulsing pussy, marking her again.
Afterward, Jack left with a nod to me, like it was no big deal. Sarah came down glowing, kissing me softly. “Thank you, Mike. It’s out of my system now.” But as she curled up next to me that night, I wondered if it really was, or if this was just the start of more “one more times.” Jack was back to being the neighbor, but the teasing glint in his eye during our next barbecue told me the game might not be over yet.
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