So You Want To Get Cucked? (Part 5) (Patreon)

Part Four was a close one! But the most popular option (as at 5 days after I posted it) was to let your boyfriend go home with the guy he met at the bar, so that's the option I'm going with. Hope you all enjoy it!

(Small note: I got sick of referring to the guy Frank was hooking up with as "the guy" so I went back and retrospectively introduced his name (Elijah) a bit earlier on. So if you're reading it and all of a sudden you see his name when you don't remember his name coming up in the earlier sections, that's why.)

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You want the chance to watch Frank be with someone else so bad. But you don’t want to fuck things up by trying to participate and scaring the guy off. And besides, as fucked up as it seems, it kind of turns you on having your fantasy finally come true but being excluded from the moment it happens.

“I don’t have to, if you don’t want me to,” Frank says, again taking my indecision as a sign that he’s taken things too far. I can tell in his voice that he doesn’t want to give up this opportunity though. And I don’t want him to either.

“You should do it,” I say. Firmly. Resolutely.

“Honestly, I don’t have to—”

“Do it,” I say, a little more insistent this time. “I want you to do it. Just promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“You’ll tell me about it in the morning.”

He nods. “Love you,” he says. “Thanks for letting me do this.” 

He walks back over to his trade, who’s leaned against a wall waiting patiently. Frank takes him by the hand, and the two of them slip out of the bar, leaving you there alone.

You wait about thirty seconds — long enough to hopefully leave a discreet distance — and then you leave the bar yourself. You get out onto the street just in time to see the two of them pile into a cab, and you stand there watching as the car drives away.

Fuck. It’s really happening. Frank didn’t get cold feet, it wasn’t some kind of prank. He was actually headed to that guy’s place to do who-knows-what with him.

It’s making your libido rage, and you are suddenly desperate to jerk off.

You jump in a taxi of your own and give him directions to your place. The whole way home you’re thinking about what Frank’s about to do, and you can feel your dick get harder the more you think about it. By the time you pull up outside your building you’ve got a raging boner that you hope the driver doesn’t notice as you get out. 

Thankfully you don’t run into anyone in the lift. As soon as you’re in your apartment with the door closed behind you, you grab your cock out of your trousers and feel it pulsing in your grip. You stand there like that for a minute or so, revelling in finally being able to touch it, but knowing that if you do any more than that it’ll be over in seconds.

You pull out your phone to see if Frank’s messaged you. There’s nothing. No ‘are you ok?’, no ‘thank you’, no ‘guess what we’re doing right now’. You suppose he’s probably too busy to think about you right now. 

As desperate as you are to cum right now, you force yourself to take your hand off your dick. Even if you’re not going to get to actually participate in this whole situation, you’re still going to take the time to enjoy it properly. So you go brush your teeth, and take a couple of paracetamol to hopefully ward off the hangover you’ll probably have tomorrow. Then you strip off your clothes and climb into bed, and you grab the pump bottle of lube out of your nightstand. 

Your erection’s started to go away at this point, but the second you close your eyes and recall the image of Frank and Elijah on the dance floor it’s back with a vengeance. You touch your dick gently, just grazing it, as you play it out in your head. In your mind you’re back there watching them making out: you study the way their lips and tongues wrestle against each other, the way their hands wander and explore, the way their bodies press up against each other. You grab a squirt or two of lube and start to stroke your cock as you think about them leaving the bar together, thinking about the chemistry and the sense of anticipation growing between them as they head back to Elijah’s place. And you start to stroke harder as your imagination pieces together a scenario of what they’re doing right at this moment, alone and undisturbed while you’re back here thinking about them. You imagine the two of them naked, hard cocks pressed up against each other as those hands explore all the parts they couldn’t when they were clothed on the dance floor. You imagine Elijah flipping Frank over, greedily rimming his ass, then plunging his cock deep inside. And as you imagine Frank’s face, contorted with the pleasure and freedom of getting fucked by this random, you blow a massive load all over yourself.

* * *

You wake up early the next morning, conscious of Frank’s absence before you’re even fully awake. And as soon as you’re properly awake the memory all comes flooding back and you remember that Frank hasn’t been home. 

You’re hard already and you want to jerk off, but you force yourself to hold off. Frank should be home soon, and you want to wait till you can hear about his experience before you let yourself cum.

Still, you can’t help but allow yourself to play with your cock, just a little, while you let your imagination wander thinking about what Frank was up to last night and potentially could even be up to right now.

It’s mid-morning, and you’re still in bed, when you hear the front door open. A few seconds later Frank’s at the bedroom door, two takeaway coffees in his hands. “Hey,” he says. You can sense the caution in his voice, and you realise he’s probably wondering if he’s in trouble. Wondering if, now that the alcohol is out of your system and you’ve had time to think with your head and not your dick, you’re regretting letting him go home with Elijah and angry at him for taking the opportunity.

“Hey,” you say. You give him a smile to set him at ease, and you shift from the middle of the bed over to your side to make room for him to sit down next to you. He takes the queue, and hands you one of the coffees as he sits down.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m good. Did you have a good time?”

You can see him relax a little now that he knows he’s not walking into an argument. “Yeah, it was good.” He still says it like it’s an admission though, as though he doesn’t think he’s supposed to have enjoyed sex with another man.

“Do you think you could tell me about it?” you ask.

“You really want to know?”

He obviously doesn’t get your kink yet. He’s still reacting as though encouraging him to be with another man was a completely altruistic act and not an expression of your own desire too. You need to be totally transparent with him about how much it turns you on.

“I want to know. I really want to know,” you tell him. “You remember how this all started, last night? It wasn’t your idea, I was the one encouraging you to do it. Because it turns me on, the idea of you being with someone else. You going home with him was probably just as hot for me as it was for you, and the only downside was that I didn’t get to witness it myself. All night and all morning I’ve been fantasising about the two of you together, waiting for the chance to find out what really happened.”

“Okay. So you’ve got a cuckold fetish?”

Hearing the C word sent a wave of conflicting emotions running through me. I was embarrassed that Frank finally understood what I was, and that it was such a humiliating, emasculating kink, while at the same time I felt incredibly excited to be called it out loud. I nodded silently.

“How long have you been into this stuff?” Frank asked.

You shrug. “I don’t know. A while. I was interested but not sure I wanted it to happen in real life.”

“Are you sure now?”

Last night and this morning have definitely answered that question for you. “Yes.”

“Interesting. So I might get to do this again?”

“I guess we’ll see. But for now can you just tell me about last night?”

“Okay. Where to begin…” He looked off into space while he thought, and then a little grin appeared on his face as he recalled the details. “So we went back to his place. He offered me a drink and I said yes but we were both so horny that before he even got them out of the fridge he had me up against the fridge with my dick out, jacking it off. He went down on me, there in the kitchen, for a while. Then we went to the bedroom and I sucked his dick.”

“What was it like?” you ask, the words spilling out almost involuntarily.

“Good. Hot. Different. It’s been so long since I’ve sucked a dick that wasn’t yours, I’d forgot what it was like to have any dick except yours in my mouth.”

“Different how?” you ask. You don’t follow that up with the question you really want to ask: was it bigger?

“Uncut,” he says. “With lots of precum. And long; my throat feels hoarse from taking it the whole way.” That answers your question; strangely it turns you on hearing that Elijah’s dick is longer than yours.

“We sixty-nined for a bit,” Frank continues. “But not for long, because I think both of us needed to fuck. It was hot; we were making out but at the same time we were kind of wrestling for dominance to see who was going to top who.”

“And?”

“I let him win,” he says with a grin. 

“So he fucked you? How?”

“How? Just about every way possible. On my back, on my front, on my side, on all fours. Fuck, when he had me on all fours, standing and fucking me from behind, it hit a spot that almost made me cum then and there.”

You wonder if you could hit that spot. “Did you? Cum, I mean.”

“No way, I made sure I held off till I could have a turn fucking him.”

“Oh so you fucked him too?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t last that long, his ass was so tight and I’d been on the edge for like half an hour at this point. Once I’d cum we gave it a few minutes then he fucked me again till he came. I think by the time we were done it was almost three.”

“But you left the bar at like eleven; surely you didn’t go for that long.” You try to remember the last time you went that long, but you’re drawing a blank.

He shrugs. “It didn’t seem like it but I guess we must have.”

“What was it like sleeping next to him.”

“Strange, but nice. And then when we woke up we fucked again this morning. Then we hung out in bed for a bit, just talking and stuff. And then I got up and came home.”

“Did you use protection with him?”

“Of course!” Frank replies. “Don’t worry, there’s no way I’d do it with a stranger without a condom.”

Your rational brain is relieved, but still you feel a hint of disappointment hearing that Frank was well-behaved.

“I should probably go have a shower,” Frank says.

“You haven’t showered yet?”

He shakes his head. “I feel gross; and I smell like sweat.”

Your hard-on is raging by this point. “Wait!” you say. “Before you get in the shower, come here.”

He leans a bit closer, and you lean in to meet him. You kiss him on the lips, then on his neck. He’s right: he smells like sweat, but it’s not just his. There’s a scent you’re not familiar with, which can only mean it’s Elijah’s. “You smell like him,” you whisper. “And you smell like sex.”

He kisses you. “You like that?” he whispers back. “You like me having the trace of another man on me?”

“Yes.” You jerk your cock while you kiss his skin and take in the scent. He takes off his shirt, giving you access to his chest and his armpits, ripe and salty from the exertion of dancing and fucking all night. You imagine the frenzy of sex between him Frank and Elijah, and wonder if your lips are tracing the same path Elijah’s did last night — or even just an hour ago. 

It’s enough to send you over the edge; you tug furiously until you feel a powerful orgasm, and with a moan you let a heavy load spill out of you to be absorbed into the bedsheets.

Frank looks surprised. “Wow,” he says, “you really got off on that huh.”

You collapse onto your pillow. “Thanks. For telling me about it.”

“No problem. Thanks for being cool with me doing it.”

Frank goes off to take a shower. You do the best you can of mopping up your load with a stray sock, all the while a big stupid grin on your face from how good your first cuckold experience has been.

* * *

You and Frank have some pretty great sex over the next few days, with a new lease of life injected into your sex life from your cuckolding and Frank’s experience with Elijah. Sometimes during the sex he’ll talk about Elijah, or tell you that he’s picturing him when the two of you are going at it. During sex is the only time you really talk about it though; you don’t sit down and have a proper conversation about where to from here.

About five days later though, as the two of your are walking home from getting dinner out, Frank comes out of nowhere with the news: “Elijah messaged me.”

“Oh?” Frank had never mentioned that he and Elijah had swapped numbers, so it comes as a little surprise, even if you have fantasised once or twice — or maybe more — about them hooking up again.

“He asked if I wanted to hang out again.”

You laugh at the use of the words ‘hang out’ as a euphemism for what he was really asking permission for. At the same time you get butterflies in your stomach at the prospect that something might have started here that you couldn’t stop. “What did you say?” 

“Nothing yet. I wanted to see what you thought.”

You’d wondered if this was going to happen, and now that it has you’re still not prepared for it. You know they have chemistry, and the idea of them having sex again turns you on. You’re not sure it’s wise though: you don’t want him forming a relationship with this guy before the two of you have even had a chance to test out how cuckolding was going to work for the both of you. It could be playing with fire encouraging him to go back to the same man; maybe it would be better if you just limited it to one-night stands for now to avoid too intimate a relationship forming.