So You Want To Get Cucked? (Part 17) (Patreon)

Last time you were headed home with Frank's hook-up from the club, and decided to let him think you were just Frank's roommate rather than his boyfriend. Here's what happens next.

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The words don’t come out. And maybe that’s a good thing. If Frank had wanted to say something he would have by now. You say nothing, and just spin back around and keep walking towards the taxis. 

You hear Frank behind you say, “And our friend Ollie, but he left a little while ago.” So there it is: you’re both committed to the story now. 

You get into the front of a taxi while the two of them get into the back. The driver has music up fairly loud, so you can’t hear exactly what Frank and Elijah are saying to each other in low voices in the back seat. At one point you turn around and you see Elijah’s hand resting high on Frank’s thigh, and your dick throbs a little in response.

The taxi ride is short and you’re soon at your apartment. Frank and Elijah get out while you’re still busy paying the driver, and by the time you get out you see the door to the apartment building shut behind them. You hurry over, put in your code, and catch up to them at the lift. They’re kissing while they wait for the lift, and Elijah’s got one hand on Frank’s ass. Neither of them seem to notice you standing there watching them.

They pull apart when the lift doors open and the three of you get in, Elijah’s hand still lingering on the small of Frank’s back as the three of you stand side-by-side in silence on what seems like the longest elevator ride of your life even though you know it’s less than thirty seconds. The anticipation is excruciating, and you can tell by the energy in this small space that the two of them can barely wait to get into the apartment to let loose on each other.

Finally the lift stops and the doors open. They lead the way down the corridor, you follow. 

“You want a drink or something?” Frank asks Elijah as soon as they’re into the apartment, in an obligatory show of hospitality that you’re pretty sure he doesn’t want Elijah to take him up on. 

“I’m fine, thanks,” Elijah says. “How about we just go to your room?” As he asks he comes in close to Frank and lays a hand gently on his hip.

Frank grins bashfully, the excitement in his eyes clear for you to see. “Sure,” he says. He takes Elijah by the hand and leads him towards the bedroom. Your bedroom.

Elijah glances back at you just before he disappears into the doorway. “Night, man,” he says casually, not realising the significance of what’s happening right now.

“N-night,” you stammer back, still not quite believing that this is actually happening. 

“Goodnight!” Frank calls out. Like he hadn’t even thought to say it till Elijah reminded him.

You’re not sure what to do with yourself. If either of them had stopped for a second it probably would have been obvious to Elijah that this is a one-bedroom apartment. Which means you have nowhere else to go except right here in the living room, outside the bedroom door. What’s worse, all the spare blankets are kept in the bedroom. You feel pathetic for the situation you’ve found yourself relegated to. It turns you on that Frank didn’t stop for a second to think about you.

You sit down on the sofa, waiting in silence to see if you can hear anything from inside the bedroom. And you don’t have to wait long. You hear Frank’s voice loud and clear, moaning, “Oh, fuck!” You can tell by the volume, the tone — that surprised, overwhelmed kind of tone — that they’ve skipped the foreplay entirely and are straight into the main event. Not surprising given how they’ve been all over each other all night.

You hear another moan. This is really fucking happening. Your boyfriend’s in there right now with another guy’s dick inside him.

This is crazy. Less than three hours ago you were trying to decide whether you should say anything to Frank about your cuckold kink. You’d thought that when you finally came clean about it there’d be long conversations about your various misgivings and concerns, and about the mechanics of how this might work. You’d thought Frank would need time to come around to the idea, if he ever did at all. You never would have thought that only a few hours later you’d be shut out of your own bedroom listening to the sound of him taking a stranger’s dick?

It’s a fantasy come true. Other than the fact you’re stuck out here, not even getting to see the action. Though truth be told, that might be even hotter.

You lean back onto the sofa, and give yourself permission to reach into your trousers and start to play with your dick. It’s rock hard, maybe harder than you remember it being any time in recent memory. Of course it is; of course you’re such a cuck that listening from outside the door gets you harder than fucking your own boyfriend does.

You jerk your dick in time to Frank’s moans and the creaking of the bed — you hadn’t even realised your bed creaked like that, which clearly just means you haven’t been fucking Frank hard enough to get it moving that way. Frank’s moans are also unfamiliar, because it’s been a long time since you made him enjoy it as much as he seems to be right now. 

You can feel you’re close. but you’re not ready yet, it’s barely been five minutes. But you can’t take your hand away, can’t stop stroking to the mental image of Frank being fucked. In your mind he’s on his back, legs splayed in the air, Elijah looking him right in the eyes while he pounds him. Fuck, you’ve got to stop picturing it if you’re going to last.

It’s clear you’re not going to last though. You undo your fly and free your dick, now frantically jerking it at twice the speed of the steady, dull creaking thuds you can hear from the bedroom. You feel the climax coming, surging through you, and with a little whimper you ejaculate. Wads land on your shirt, quickly seeping into the fabric in dark circles but leaving little gelatinous blobs sitting there on the fabric.

You jerk the last of your load and then take deep breaths, letting your heart rate and your breaths return to normal. Once they do it’s like waking up, and you imagine how you must look right now: fully clothed, with your dick out and slowly deflating, cum stains on your shirt, read-faced and panting. God, you’re so pathetic. You’re such a cuck.

The moans, the creaks, the thuds, they’re all still going in that same rhythm. But you’re done. And now that post-nut clarity you’ve heard so much about sets in. You wonder what the hell you were thinking, letting Frank bring this guy home. For you the fun’s over, and now you’re surplus to requirements while their fun goes on.

And on, and on, it turns out. You’re surprised either of them can last. For a few minutes you’re angry that Frank wasn’t more considerate of your experience in this situation. For a few minutes after that you’re sad that he was so easily convinced to do this, which soon turns into fear that you might have just helped him discover that he can do better than you. You keep telling yourself though, that the best thing you can do — the only thing you can do if you want to hold onto your sanity — is be happy for him that he’s getting to have this experience.

That’s what you’re thinking as you drift off to sleep.

❄ ❄ ❄

You wake in the middle of the night to the sound of someone banging into something and muttering, “Oww, fuck.” You see a figure in the dark moving towards the bathroom door. The bathroom light flickers on, and for a moment before the door shuts you see a silhouette framed in the doorway that you can tell immediately isn’t Frank’s. You hear Elijah pissing, flushing, washing his hands. As the door opens you shut your eyes and pretend to be sleeping, listening as he moves across the room and not opening your eyes again until you hear the bedroom door shut.

The next morning you wake early, feeling tired and sore from the uncomfortable sleep you had on the sofa, and incredibly horny about the fact that Frank’s still in the bedroom with the guy he brought home last night. You make coffee, and you’re just finishing it when the bedroom door opens. You’re expecting it to be Frank, but it’s Elijah. He’s in his underwear, and you can see by the way he fills it out that he has a nice, big cock. No wonder Frank was enjoying it so much.

He gives you a nod. “Hey.” You realise that he’s noticed the way you were looking at his dick, which makes you immediately flustered.

“Morning,” you try to say cheerfully. “Want some coffee? I just made some.”

He shakes his head. “Thanks, but I’m good.” He turns and walks to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

A minute later he re-emerges. He walks back to the bedroom, but before he opens the door he stops and looks at you. “You’re not his roommate.” It sounds like both a question and a statement. An accusation.

You shake your head. “How did you figure that out?”

“You were sleeping on the sofa,” he says. “And this place only has one bedroom in it.”

“Oh.” You should have realised he was going to figure that out. “I’m his boyfriend,” you admit.

He nods, taking in the information. Then without saying anything else he opens the bedroom door, steps inside, and shuts it behind him.

Five minutes later you hear the creaking of the bed start up again.

❄ ❄ ❄

You get home with breakfast to find Elijah gone, which is what you’d hoped. After listening to them fuck once again, and blowing your load embarrassingly fast, you hadn’t wanted to be around to have to make conversation when they were done. Now that Elijah knew who you were — and presumably what you were — you weren’t sure you could face the guy. So you’d gone out to the cafe down the road to sit and slowly drink a coffee till you felt like you could return to your own home un-humiliated.

Frank comes out of the bathroom, humming a tune. He’s happy. Of course he is, he just had an amazing time.

He stops when he sees you. “Hey,” he says, looking concerned. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good,” you say, followed by the admission, “I just felt a bit to embarrassed to be around when Elijah was leaving. Did you have a good time with him?”

Frank grins. “You mean you couldn’t tell?”

“How was it?” you ask. “Being fucked by him, I mean.”

“It was different,” Frank says. “You know, casual sex is always different from relationship sex.”

“You can say it’s better,” you tell him. “You don’t have to worry about my feelings.”

For a second it looks like he’s going to argue, but he stops himself. He takes a few steps towards me so he’s right in your personal space. And he says to you, “Is that what you want?”

“What?” You pretend like you don’t know what he means even though you do.

“You want to know he fucked me better, don’t you?” he asks, his tone accusing but playful. “Don’t you, cuck?”

Fuck, your dick pulses when you hear him call you that. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper.

“You want to know about how his dick was bigger than yours. And how he can use it better than you. And last for longer — you obviously noticed that, right?”

“Yeah,” you admit, humiliated and thoroughly turned on.

“But you like that, right? Knowing he outperformed you?” 

You nod, wondering how he got so good at this so quick.

“I’m glad you were into it,” he says. “Because I fucking loved it. But I was a little worried it would all be too much for you.”

“There were moments when I found it hard,” you say. “Usually after I came. But yeah, I enjoyed it. It was something I’ve thought about for a long time.”

“Keen to do it again then?” Frank asks.

“You mean with Elijah?”

Frank shrugs. “I don’t mind. He said he’s keen to do it again, so I’d be up for it if you are. Now that he knows you’re a cuck maybe he’ll let you watch next time.” He pauses. “I get it if you’d rather I find someone else though. Like, to keep it from becoming anything. It seems less risky that way.”