Bonus chapter of 'So You Want To Get Cucked' (Patreon)

Hi everyone! Been kind of quiet on the Patreon front this month because I've been focusing on editing my latest story, which is getting really close to being finished.

But while I was editing I came across one path that didn't quite work, and I also realised that along the way I'd forgotten to include one particular ending I'd wanted to write. So I changed that path to add on this ending, which I think is better - and also a bit of a change from all the rest. I figured I'll share it with you while you're waiting to see the finished product.

This bit follows on from Part 10, which was the part where you discovered your boyfriend had been continuing to cheat on you following his hook-up in the club. First time around you guys chose not to confront him about it, but in this path you do.

I know Part 10 wasn't everyone's cup of tea because (as just about every discussion of ethical cuckoldry will point out) cheating is not the same as cuckolding. But once you confront him about it and get it out in the open, he can continue to be a slut while you get to know the details. Hope you guys enjoy it!

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You’re sick with nerves the whole time you’re waiting for him to come home. A small part of you just wants to pretend you never saw the condoms. But mainly you’re just driving yourself mad with the need to know what he’s been doing. You tell yourself the reason you want to know so badly is because you need — and deserve — an explanation. But there’s also this lingering thought that actually, maybe the reason you want so badly to know is because you want to fill in the blanks when you imagine him with someone else. You’re not satisfied with just knowing he cheated; you want to know who he did it with, how he did it. What he felt.

You feel like you’re about to go on a roller coaster, all nerves. It’s kind of funny though how much the nerves feel like excitement.

You confront him as soon as he walks in the door. You stop him in his tracks, holding the condoms in your hand. You can see that before you’ve said a word his expression has gone from confused to dismayed.

“Why do you have these?” you ask him.

He lets out a sigh, diverts his eyes for a moment before looking back at you. “Fuck,” he says, seeming to say it more to himself than to you.

“There are three left out of a pack of twelve,” you say, waving the condoms at him. “Where are the other nine? What did you do with them?”

“What do you think?” It doesn’t come out angry or combative. More just tired of having to explain the obvious and already tired of the fight that will inevitably follow.

“Who with?” you ask.

“Guys. No one you know.”

“Guys? Multiple guys?”

He nods. “Just random guys. Online, in bars. I’m not like, having an affair or something. I just…” he trails off, seeming to realise that however he was going to try justify himself wasn’t going to do the job.

“Why?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he says, throwing his hands up in a gesture of frustration. “I guess that night at the club, it just kind of woke something up in me. The thrill of a casual hook-up, you know? I’d forgotten what it felt like, and once I remembered again I guess I couldn’t just forget again.”

You both stand there in an uncomfortable silence for an uncomfortably long amount of time. Partly because you don’t know how to respond to what he’s told you. And partly because you’re hoping the silence will force him to keep talking. He doesn’t volunteer anything more though, until finally he makes the first move. “Are you going to say anything?” he asks calmly.

“I’d thought maybe you were going to say sorry,” you tell him.

He sighs again. “I’m sorry that it hurts to find out,” he says. “And I’m sorry I kept it a secret from you. But honestly? Honestly I’m not sorry I fucked around. It was good: having these forbidden encounters, looking a guy up and down and knowing without either of us needing to say anything that it’s only a matter of minutes till we’re going to be fucking each other, no strings attached.”

Hearing him talk about it like that makes you second-hand turned on. This was exactly how you’d always hoped he’d feel about fucking other guys; it’s just a shame he had to do it in secret.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you ask. “I would have been okay with it. You know I told you in the club that night that I wanted to see you with him.”

“Yeah, but then when it came down to crunch time you chickened out and cock-blocked me.”

“Not that it stopped you though.”

His brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I know he fucked you that night.”

For a second or two he seems lost for words. “Seriously?” he says. “You knew, and you didn’t say anything? Why?”

You’re not sure how to answer, but it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t give you a chance anyway. “What, did you follow us in there or something? Were you listening to us?” The look on your face obviously gives you away. “You were, weren’t you? Fuck, were you just standing there getting hard listening to him fuck me?”

You look away, embarrassed.

“Holy shit. Did you jerk off, listening to us?”

“Yes,” you mutter quietly.

“Fuck.” He laughs in disbelief. “So now you know about the other guys are you going to jerk off thinking about me with them too?”

Your shame turns to indignation in a heartbeat, hearing him taunt you like that. “Maybe I could have if I’d known about it! Maybe if you’d told me what you were up to and who you were with I could have enjoyed it too.” 

“Well I guess you’re going to get what you want,” he says. “Because now you know. And now every time I’m out late after work, every time I seem to have taken a little too long at the gym, you’ll be able to enjoy knowing that there’s a nine out of ten chance I’m probably with some guy right at that moment.”

It’s hard to believe Frank would be like this. You were expecting a grovelling apology, but instead here he is telling you to your face that he’s going to keep cheating on you.

“So you’re not going to stop?”

“No,” he says, sounding defensive. His voice softens a little though as he continues: “I’m not. And I’m sorry if that’s something you can’t live with. If it is, then I guess we have some stuff to decide.” 

He pauses, and you don’t say anything.

“Given you like to jack off listening to me getting fucked, I’m guessing this is something you can live with though. Am I right?”

“I can handle you being with other guys,” you tell him. “Fuck, I want you to be with other guys. I just want you to be honest about it.”

He nods. “That’s fair. I shouldn’t have kept it a secret. I’m not sorry for fucking around with other guys but I am sorry for not being honest with you about it. That’s the truth.”

“You promise to be honest with me?” you ask.

“I promise.”

“You promise to tell me every detail of every guy you’re with?”

He laughs to himself and shakes his head slightly in disbelief at what he’s hearing from you. But the frown on his face starts to melt away too, and you know that’s a good sign. “Yeah okay,” he says. “Well, maybe not every detail. But I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“Do you think maybe… I could watch some time?” You blush and look away, embarrassed to even ask.

“Oh so you want to watch too?” he says. “Not content to jerk off on the other side of the wall, huh. Well yeah, I’m sure I could make that happen; I bet there are plenty of guys who like an audience when they fuck.”

He beckons you over, and you go to him. He kisses you on the lips, you linger there for a moment, suddenly tired from the emotional weight of the conversation even though it had only lasted a couple of minutes.

“I love you,” he says. 

“You sure?” you ask.

“Of course. I’m an asshole, and I’m lucky to have a guy who’ll forgive me.”

“Too fucking right.”

“And I’m lucky to have a guy who’ll let me get fucked by strangers.”

You can’t help laughing at that.

“You want to know what else?” he asks, wrapping you in a hug and giving you another lingering kiss.

“What?” you ask.

“I just swallowed a stranger’s load about twenty minutes ago.”

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

Now that Frank’s got permission to openly act like a slut your relationship is transformed.

Later that week he comes home and tells you all about a guy he cruised while he was out shopping. “One minute this guy’s giving me the eye from across the shop,” he tells you, “and the next minute my phone’s going off because he’s found me online. He tells me he knows a quiet spot down the other end of the mall, so five minutes later I’m in a toilet cubicle sucking his dick. Then he turned me round and fucked me. Took him five minutes to bust his load then he’s gone without a word. It was fucking hot.”

And then two nights after that he messages you, Going to be home late. When you reply, What are you up to? he simply responds with a photo of a headless torso sporting a sizeable, erect cock. After that he doesn’t respond to a single message for about three hours, and by the time he finally messages to say he’s on his way home you’re utterly spent because you’ve jerked yourself off twice already thinking about who the photo belongs to and exactly what they’re doing together.

It’s wild, and intense, and a constantly arousing mindfuck. Still, as good as it feels knowing about his sex life while being denied participation in it, what you want most is to see him with someone.

Finally, you get what you’ve been longing for.

“Someone’s coming over tonight,” he tells you. 

“Who?” you ask.

“His name’s Elliott. We’ve fucked a couple of times before.”

That’s all it takes to turn you into a nervous wreck. “So he’s coming here? For sex?”

“Yep,” Frank says.

“And he knows I’m going to be here?” you ask, before your mind turns to the worst case scenario and you ask, “Wait, you’re not going to make me leave so you can have sex are you?”

Frank laughs. “No!” he says. “To be honest I hadn’t even thought of that. But good to know I can kick you out if I want. No, Elliott said he’s up for letting you watch us.”

“Really?” you can barely believe what he’s telling you. 

“Yep. Just don’t be weird about it, okay?”

Easier said than done, because by the time Elliott’s due to turn up you’re a quivering mess and you’re broken out in a cold sweat. But you don’t know if you’ve ever been this excited: you’re finally going to get to see your boyfriend get fucked.

When Frank opens the door Elliott’s not what you’d expected. He’s obviously a few years younger than Frank, like maybe in his early to mid twenties. And a little less masc than you might have expected, given what you know of Frank’s usual type. Physically he’s a classic twink, and he’s got skin like maple syrup and eyes so dark and deep that you’re sure one look could make a man do anything this guy wanted.

He stands in the doorway and gives Frank a long kiss, so long that you think it might descend into sex on the spot. You long for them to shut the door in case any of the neighbours see  sees you. “You must be Sam,” he says, with a disdainful tone that suggests you’re simultaneously a curiosity and a disappointment.

“Hey,” you reply.

“I hear you want to watch us fuck.”

The directness catches you off guard. “Uh, yeah,” you stammer, “if that’s okay.”

“To be honest it was hotter when I knew I was getting him to cheat on his man,” Elliott tells you. “But I’m sure we can make this fun too.”

You can see immediately that this guy is kind of a jerk. It irritates you that Frank would choose someone like this, and that he’d be okay hooking up with someone willing to disrespect you like this. And it bothers you how much that turns you on.

 Elliott takes Frank’s hand and leads him towards the bedroom. “Let’s get into it,” he says, “I’ve been dying to taste your cock again and I don’t want to wait a minute longer than I have to”

You lean against the bedroom door and watch as they make out, Frank’s hands gripping Elliott’s butt, Elliott’s arms wrapped around Frank’s chest. They pull their mouth’s apart long enough to each pull their t-shirts off over their heads, and they collapse on the bed together, chest against chest and make out some more. Elliott moves down Frank’s torso, kissing his nipple and following the trail of hair down to his waistband, and unbuckles Frank’s belt and unbuttons the fly of his jeans.

Eliott gets down onto the floor, on his knees, so his head is lined up with Frank’s groin. He runs his lips along the length of Frank’s cock, which is already erect but still pinned down sideways under the fabric of his underwear. Slowly he pulls back the waistband of Frank’s underwear, and pulls the fabric down just enough to let Frank’s cock pop out and spring up. And then, with the waistband nestled under Frank’s balls, Elliott runs his tongue the whole way up Frank’s shaft from base to tip before devouring it.

Frank lets out a long, satisfied groan as Elliott starts sucking his dick. He closes his eyes, and runs a hand through his hair before letting it drop to his side in instant and total relaxation.

Elliott’s an expert, you can tell. For a start he  can take it all the way without gagging, which you can never seem to do. His technique is graceful and he seems to know exactly what Frank likes, judging by the sighs and sharp intakes of breath he elicits from Frank at certain moments. You wish you knew what it was he was doing with his mouth that’s making Frank respond like that.

He takes his mouth off Frank’s cock long enough to ask, “I suck dick better than your boyfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” Frank responds almost instantly, the word coming out like a long, blissful sigh. You’re jealous and turned on by how little Frank even had to think about it.

Elliott keeps blowing Frank till Frank can’t take it anymore; he gently lifts Elliott’s head off his dick and tells him, “No more, or I won’t last long enough to fuck you.”

“We can’t have that,” Elliott says. 

He gets up off the floor and wriggles Frank’s jeans off his legs. He takes his time removing his own trousers, and when they finally drop to his ankles you get a good look at the tight white briefs that cradle his firm bubble-butt perfectly. You can see the outline of his cock, and a tiny patch at the tip, just by his hip, where he’s been leaking precum.

Frank ditches his own underwear, and Elliott climbs back onto the bed, straddling him. He grinds his ass against Frank’s dick, and then settles into place on Frank’s lap so that Frank’s cock is nestled right in the crease of the underwear where Elliott’s butt crack is.

“Fuck I can’t wait too feel your cock inside me,” Elliott whispers.

Hearing that throws all your expectations into disarray. You’d just assumed Frank would be getting fucked this evening; he hasn’t topped since the early days of your relationship. It suddenly makes much more sense now though, because the twink in your bed right now definitely has bottom energy. 

You wonder what made Frank want to top. Whether he’d been wanting to do it for a while and your ass just didn’t do it for him, or whether it’s just that he saw Elliott’s bubble butt and couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Either way, looking at that firm tight ass with Frank’s crotch nestled in it you know there’s no way your ass could compete with Elliott’s.

“Sam, make yourself useful and get me the lube out of Frank’s drawer,” Elliott says, nodding towards Frank’s bedside table.

For half a second you’re confused about how he knows where the lube is. But the pieces fall into place easily: he knows which side of the bed is Frank’s and where he keeps the lube, because he’s been here before. You wonder how many times he’s been here with Frank, in your bed, and if you’ve gone to sleep in the very spot where they’d just been fucking. Your dick throbs in response to the possibility.

You get the lube out of the drawer and set it down on the bed next to them. You grab a condom from the box and go to hand it to Elliott, but he just looks at the condom and then at you, without reaching out to take it. He laughs like he’s just witnessed something stupid. “Your boyfriend thinks we’re going to use a rubber,” he says — it’s directed at Frank but he’s looking at you as he says it. The next bit he says to you though: “It’s a bit late for that, he’s already bred me like half a dozen times already.”

First comes the panic as you wonder just how unsafe Frank might have been these last few weeks. A moment later comes the anger as you think about the risk he could have put you in. And a moment after that comes the rush of energy through your chest and your cock when you realise how turned on you are by it.

Frank makes a noise, like he’s trying to respond but doesn’t quite know how to. Elliott gets in first though, giving you an eye-roll as he tells you, “I got my test results back like a week ago so you’ve got nothing to worry about with me. And he’s on PrEP — I’m guessing he didn’t tell you that either.”

You’re reeling from new revelation after new revelation. At least you don’t have to be worried about catching something serious from this guy. But fuck, the idea that Frank’s been not only fucking this guy but breeding him is a whole extra level of betrayal. You’re angry, but the thing you’re actually angry about isn’t that he did it, it’s that he spent all those loads inside this guy’s ass and you never got to see it happen.

That ends here. You drop the condom back in the drawer and slam it shut.

Elliott slips his underwear off, sucks Frank’s dick for another few seconds to get it ready, and pours a generous helping of lube all over it. He rubs whatever’s left on his fingers across his hole. He gets back onto Frank’s lap, and lines up the tip of Frank’s cock to meet his waiting cock, and starts to press down. Elliott’s hole yields easily and the tip of Frank’s cock slides in. Slowly — painfully slowly to you — Frank’s slick cock slides further and further in, Elliott’s sphincter moulding around it, hugging it firmly as it pushes its way in.

Frank lets out a groan of absolute, pure satisfaction as he buries his dick all the way into Elliott. He places a hand on each firm, smooth butt cheek and groans again from the sensation of Elliott writhing on his dick, in a circular motion that involved flexing his hips to push down and forward, and then up and back, a bucking bronco in slow motion. Frank’s already moaning like he can barely control himself, and you wonder if he’s going to bust any second — you know you certainly would. But he keeps going, and Elliott keeps riding Frank, alternating from sitting upright to curling over to kiss him. 

The pace gradually picks up until Elliott’s bucking at full speed, bouncing up and down letting Frank’s cock slide almost all the way out and bury itself back in. Frank’s’s lying there, looking Elliott’s body up and down and enjoying being ridden. But as the intensity steps up a notch, something suddenly comes over him and when Elliott bends to meet his lips he turns and flips the two of them over, Elliott on his back. He spreads Elliott’s legs and starts to pound his ass hard, a growl and a furrowed brow giving away just how animal he’s becoming in this moment.

You’ve never seen him like this before. This isn’t something you can bring out of him, only this peach-assed, bratty twink can turn him into this version of himself. All you can do is watch, and slide your dick into your pants, and stroke your cock while you take it all in from your spot on the floor.

Frank pulls out, flips Elliott over onto his stomach, and shoves his dick back in. Elliott’s moaning like a porn star at this point, but taking it like a champ and obviously loving every minute of it. Although he’s pinned down he struggles his way onto all fours, Frank taking the hint and giving him the space to get up onto his hands and knees. Elliott gets into what can only be described as an exemplary bottom formation — back arched, ass high — and Frank grips his ass and pumps it hard. You can see the glisten of sweat on his forehead as he really gives it everything.

They’re both facing you now, and Elliott lifts his head to stare directly at you. He grins at you maliciously, and says to you, “See how much he loves it? He was born to fuck like a stallion and you never even knew.”

“I’m close,” Frank pants.

“Fuck, yes. You want to breed me?”

“Yes. You want that? You want my load in your ass?”

“Fuck yes, please. Breed me.”

Frank only jackhammers him for a few more seconds before you see it coming: the way his face clenches up and his grip tightens on Elliott’s ass so hard you think it might leave marks. And he slams his dick in one more time and with a sound that’s bordering between a groan and a yell he climaxes. And though you can’t see any of it you feel like you can picture it exactly: his dick pulsing, massive rope after massive rope shooting out of his dick and filling Elliott’s guts, filling him and marking as Frank’s possession. The way he freezes and clenches up, completely still, makes it feel like the moment is endless, like time has become stuck and you’re going to spend the rest of your life living in the moment where Frank releases everything he has into this younger, slimmer and more attractive model of a man while you sit there forgotten on the bedroom floor.

That’s enough to make you orgasm. A pathetic orgasm that you feel rush through you only to dribble out and soak through your underwear.

Frank and Elliott collapse onto the bed, tangled up together, and make out languidly for ten minutes or so, barely saying a word. They look sweet together; they look hot together, gently kissing each other on the neck and shoulders while Frank strokes Elliott’s golden, almost hairless, and entirely flawless ass.

Finally with one last kiss Frank gets up to go take a piss, leaving you alone with Elliott. You’re not sure if you should say anything, but the silence feels to awkward not to.

“That was hot,” you tell him.

“It’s always good to see beautiful people fuck, right?” he says, without a hint of humour in his voice despite how conceited he sounds. “Bet you and him haven’t fucked like that in years, am I right?”

“Well, we…” You were going to say that the two of you don’t do too badly in that department, but when you think about it he’s totally correct. There was something written across Frank’s face tonight you’ve never seen before.

“I had no idea he even bottomed,” you tell him.

“Well maybe if he’d had more than just your flat ass on offer all these years he would have been more interested in it,” Elliott replies. “I guess he saw mine and he realised what he’d been missing.”

“You like being an asshole, don’t you?” You  surprise yourself when the words come out of your mouth.

He laughs. “You clocked me. I’m a brat. That’s why I like taking other people’s men. And why I get off so hard on knowing that he wants me more than he wants you.”

“I don’t know if that’s true,” you say.

He laughs again. “You wait, I’ll make sure he says it next time.”

Frank appears in the doorway, looking more handsome — and more unattainable — than he’s ever looked to you. He stands there for a second, just observing Elliott, and you can see something in his eyes that you have seen before, but not in a long time. You can’t read his mind but it looks to you like affection, mixed with longing, mixed with wonder at just how lucky he’s got finding a guy as perfect as this. There was a time he looked at you like that. And you think to yourself that maybe Elliott’s maybe it’s true: maybe Frank does want him more than he wants you. 

The thought scares you, no doubt about it. This is what you wanted though, being second best. Being outdone by someone, especially by someone who’ll revel in making sure you know it. Now that you’ve experienced it, getting as brutally cucked like this exceeded your wildest fantasies. You’d prefer if you weren’t entirely replaced by a better model though, so you hope like hell you haven’t got in too deep. Only one way to find out though, and that’s to hold on tight and enjoy the ride.