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Hey gents and ladies, I thought I’d share a story I’ve been working on, lightly based on my own lived experiences. It doesn’t fit the ‘traditional’ definition of cucking, but is in the mold of similar stories that have been popular on this sub (like the ‘College Cuck Saga’), so I hope this fits the rules and is enjoyed! If so, I will keep it going in the coming days.
Anyway, here’s Part 1…
My name is Ethan, I’m 28 and and live in Boston, recently graduated from medical school and currently in residency. I’ve always considered myself decently attractive – i go to the gym, I keep myself well groomed, never had trouble getting numbers nor second dates.
And then there’s Claire, my best friend. We met first year of college at our Ivy League school, when we were floormates in our dorm. While we had always been 100% platonic, even I’d acknowledge without hesitation that she’s a stunner: long natural straight blonde hair, pretty blue eyes, no tats or blemishes, and a tight medium height body that she kept in perfect shape. She was always the girl in the room that guys would steal a second, third or fourth glance at, even if they were there with another woman. Think a ‘preppy’ Connecticut old-money version of Alexa Grace.
This is the story of how Claire and I went from friends to a position I’d never imagined guys like me would ever be in.
During our freshman year, Claire and I got extremely close but kept things entirely platonic, both dating other people and even going on double dates or using each other as ‘wingmen’. There were nights where we’d managed to find each other a hook-up, all four of us take an Uber XL back to the dorm, with Claire and I nodding each other goodnight as we enter our respective rooms with our ‘entertainment’ for the night.
That being said, it was painfully obvious that Claire got more action than I ever did. There were numerous Friday and Saturday nights where I’d stay in to study late (the joys of prepping for med school), and then walk by Claire’s dorm room while heading to the shower, hearing a mix of her moans and the steady ‘thump-thump-thump’ of her bed frame with a different guy pounding away each weekend.
Sometimes I’d even pause for a few seconds outside her door – mostly out of curiosity, pretending to check that I had all my toiletries before heading into the shower – to listen to it for a little longer, hoping to catch some smacks, the clapping of cheeks, or some dirty talk between Claire and her man of the hour. I’d then quickly go wash away my guilt in the shower, reminding myself that she’s one of my closest friends.
Near the end of our first year, with exams around the corner and myself in hermit mode stressing about grades for an anatomy class (that I look back on now and realize didn’t matter), I did my usual Saturday night walk to the shower. By the time I took just one step into the hallway I could tell Claire was doing her own anatomical ‘studying’, with loud moans to compliment it.
I chuckled to myself and walked towards the bathroom, and as I passed by her door I heard her moan:
“…f-fuck dude, I’ve never had a cock this big..”
I don’t know why, but that triggered something in me. Like I was a sleeper agent being awoken.
Like I said before, I knew Claire was attractive – but I never lusted over her. I never made a move. We were really close friends and that’s what I saw her as. But hearing her moan those words made me immediately imagine her on her back or on all fours while a guy with a massive cock was intensely spearing her over and over.
I also then realized that I was rock hard, a tent bulging hard against my sweats. I said ‘fuck it’ to the shower, turned back to my dorm room, stripped down and hopped into bed. I did something I never did before. I pulled up Claire’s Instagram, scrolled down to a photo of her in a skimpy black bikini from her spring break trip to Cancun, and started stroking my cock to her words I just heard.
While the sound proofing inside my room was good, I thought (or maybe imagined) I could still hear her moans faintly if I just strained hard enough. In my mind, I replaced the black bikini with sexy black lace lingerie as I continued stroking, imagining the panties pulled to the side as the unnamed, faceless guy with the big cock pushed against her relentlessly.
It didn’t take long. A minute, or maybe two. I came harder than I ever did from jerking off, maybe harder than the majority of the times I was actually fucking someone. I remember shocking myself at the power of my load, with it spraying so hard that some of it coated the wall and desk across from me.
My heart sank quickly as the guilt crashed over me like an ice bath.
What have I done? I just jerked off about my best friend.. And to make things worse, I didn’t get off to the idea of me fucking her. I came thinking about her with a guy I didn’t even know.
But within seconds, the guilt left as quick as it came as I realized I was hardening again. My phone – which I threw a few feet away in revulsion after cumming – was still lingering on Claire’s bikini photo. I picked it up.
“Fuck it”
I went once more, again barely lasting a few minutes while Claire continued to get piped by a guy that wasn’t me just two doors down. And then I went a third time. And a fourth. I was going at it with the energy of a devout couple on their honeymoon night, except it was just me, my hand, and Claire’s IG.
At some point I tired myself out and fell asleep, waking up the next morning groggy and my room smelling like a night of fucking.
I knew I passed a point of no return that night. I just didn’t know where it would lead to in the years to come…
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