'My Husband's Rich Boyfriend' draft: Winston comes home (Patreon)

Here's chapter three of my latest work in progress. As always, hit me up if you've got feedback or suggestions for improvement.

Those next few days were kind of like the early stages of a break-up. Suddenly I had to get used to doing alone, and it felt weird. Going to sleep without him, and waking up in an empty bed, was the hardest. But there were other things, too. Not discussing what we’d eat for dinner, having no one to kiss goodbye as I walked out the door in the morning. No one laughing with me when something funny happened on the television.

I kept telling myself it was fine. Winston was coming back, he’d given no indication that he wouldn’t. This was just the next stage of my journey as a cuckold. I had to admit, as hard as it was to deal with, it was fucking hot thinking about the way he’d just ditched me to spend a week fucking his new toy.

In my moments of weakness, when my insecurities got the better of me, I’d message him. I didn’t want to nag, so it would always be something casual, nonchalant. How’s it going? Having fun? That kind of thing. Sometimes I’d get a short, kind of disinterested reply a few hours later,. But sometime’s I’d get nothing at all.

He didn’t send any more pics or videos either.

I wanked constantly. On the fifth night - or the sixth? - I played with my dildo, imagining it was Winston fucking me. It made me think about whether I’d ever get to feel him inside me again, and before I knew it I was crying while I fucked myself, alone in my bedroom.

On day eight I got a call from the Stags, the bar Winston and I owned. I didn’t hear from them that often; I was more of a silent partner, while Winston was the hands-on one. He’d do the books, the ordering, all the management. He’d do a few duty manager shifts each week too, which he enjoyed. I liked it too, because whenever he worked the bar he’d end up getting laid and coming home to tell me about it afterwards; the name itself was a subtle reference to the fact that it would be a source of guys for Winston to cuckold me with. Sometimes I’d come in and sit there at the bar on my own, watching him flirt with the clientele while he mixed drinks.

Harry, the regular duty manager, had called to check if Winston was ok. “We’ve been worried about him,” he told me. “He must be really sick to be out of action this long.” 

I was surprised. I knew he’d called in sick that second night, but I just figured he’d been back at work since then. But apparently he hadn’t; other people had been covering his shifts, and they were running low on supplies that hadn’t been reordered. Harry starting to get concerned.

I made excuses, told Harry that Winston was on the mend and that he’d be back at work soon. As soon as I was off the phone I hastily sent Winston a message:

You haven’t been at work? Things need doing, Winston. People are worried

No reply.

Please, you need to come home now

It was almost eleven that night by the time he replied. 

Sorry babe. I know, I’ve been so slack. I’ll be home tomorrow

Finally.

That night I could barely sleep from the crazy combination of emotions. Relief he was coming home, mixed with dread over the conversation we’d have to have, mixed with the arousal from imagining how much more intense his sex with Callum would be that night knowing that their affair would be over in the morning.

I spent a good hour or so the next morning getting myself ready for Winston - a trim, body lotion all over, and cleaning out my insides. And the whole morning I rehearsed in my head - and out loud - what I’d say to Winston when he finally came home. 

But as soon as he walked through that door, I forgot every word of what I’d practised.

At first he just stood there, and I looked up at him from where I was sat at the dining table. He looked different. His shaggy blonde hair still looked the same as it always did, but he was wearing clothes that I didn’t recognise. Jeans that were a little tighter than usual. A loose-fitting sweater that looked expensive. Not just that though; there was something about his face, his manner, that seemed different to how I remembered him from little more than a week ago.

“Hey,” he said to me, awkwardly.

“Hey,” I replied, just as awkwardly.

He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table with me. “I guess you’re pretty pissed at me right now.”

I didn’t say a word.

“I understand if you’re upset. I was gone a long time. That can’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t.” I tried to sound relaxed, but I could hear the anger in my own voice. “Easy, I mean. You broke the rules. You never gave me any choice about whether I was okay with it.” I could feel myself choking up a little. “I didn’t think you were ever going to come home.” 

Winston took my hand. “I was always going to come home. You’re my husband, and I love you. That hasn’t changed, you know.”

I felt a tear trickle down my cheek and quickly wiped it away.

“Nick, I’m sorry I didn’t communicate better. I’m sorry I got so distracted and ignored you the way I did.” Winston paused. “But I’m not sorry I made the choice I did, to stay there with Callum. I had the most amazing time with him, it blew my fucking mind and I’m so glad I did it.”

I nodded and shook away the tears before they set in properly. “I’m glad. Honestly, I am. I’m happy you had a good time with him.” I was kicking myself for letting him off the hook so easy, but I couldn’t help myself from asking him, “Can you tell me about it?”

Winston grinned, and I could tell from that grin that he knew he was off the hook. He knew he’d escaped a bollocking because his pushover cuck boyfriend just couldn’t wait to find out all the details of what he’d been up to.

“Of course, babe. You know I’ll always tell you how it went. That’s the rules, right? He got up, walked over to the sofa, and sat down. He leaned back, hands clasped behind his head, as I got down on my knees in front of him. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything. Start at the beginning.”

Winston chuckled. He knew the routine by now. “Okay. So, he let me in, gave me a glass of whisky. We chatted for a little bit, but not that long because the sexual tension was, like, extreme, right from the start. Then he took me up to the bedroom. Not the master bedroom, this other bedroom he has just for fucking in so he doesn’t have to invite randoms into his own room. Man, his house is huge.”

As he spoke I nuzzled his crotch with my mouth, over his pants. I stopped for a moment to ask, “Then what?” 

“We made out. It was good.” The way he said that, it was like he was reliving the moment in his head. It was so goddamn hot. I unbuckled his belt and undid the fly on his jeans while he kept retelling the story.

“We got naked. He is so fucking hot you wouldn’t believe it, Nick, I swear! Like, fucking ripped. Not massively muscular, but toned all over - he has a personal trainer so he’s fit as fuck. And he’s hung like a giant too.”

I finally got Winston’s jeans unzipped, and pulled them down a little. I was surprised to find that underneath, rather than his usual trunks, Winston was wearing a pair of tight, crisp white briefs. They hugged the bulge of his cock and balls tightly, so I could see the outline of his head through the fabric even though he wasn’t hard yet. I reacted involuntarily with a little gasp. “You’re wearing briefs. You never wear underwear like this. You hate underwear like this don’t you?” It was such a small detail, but it really threw me. “Where did they come from?”

“I was there for over a week, babe. Did you think I’d just wear the same underwear the whole time?” He chuckled and added, “Not that I needed underwear most of the time.”

I looked Winston up and down and then it dawned on me that he was wearing a completely new set of clothes, right down to new shoes and socks.

“Callum got me some clothes to wear while I was there,” Winston explained. “He said he liked this kind of underwear on me. Makes my package look good, apparently. And my ass. You like?”

God it was hot, knowing that this stranger had convinced Winston to wear slutty-looking underwear for him. I nodded enthusiastically, lifted the waistband, and reached under the fabric. His cock was still soft; I cupped it in my hand, then slowly drew it out of his briefs and started to stroke it.

Winston continued. “I sucked his cock. I could barely take get the whole thing in my mouth, and it made me gag when it was about half way in,” he laughed. “The first couple of times, anyway. His cock is beautiful. Uncut, leaks like mad when he gets turned on and it tastes fucking incredible.” At that I could feel Winston’s cock start to thicken a little. I licked the tip of his shaft, then put the whole thing in my mouth, my tongue dancing across the head the way he likes it.

“He was kinda rough, kinda dominant. It was hot. He bit my neck, threw me around a little. Then he pinned me down, face down on the bed and he whispered in my ear, ‘I’m gonna fuck you now.’”

That surprised me so much I almost gagged on his cock. I took my mouth off it and looked up at him. “What? He wanted to fuck you? What did you do?”

Winston grinned at me. “What do you think I did, babe?”

Surely not. He is strictly, one hundred percent, top. “What?”

“I begged him to fuck me. And he did. My fucking god did it hurt at first, that cock. I haven’t had a cock in me for years and then to start with that monster! But fuck it was good, I’ve never been fucked like that before in my life.”

I was so stunned I had no idea what to say. If it had been any other time I probably would have been a little irritated; I’d tried to get him to bottom for me a few times over the years with no success, but he’d given his ass up just like that to Callum the first time he asked. But I was way too horny to be upset about it. The thought of Winston’s face, grimacing as the pain of that big cock turned into absolute pleasure, had me absolutely rock hard. I greedily put his cock back in my mouth and mumbled, “Keep going.”

“That first fuck lasted for hours,” he told me. “He was relentless. He fucked me in every way possible. I came so hard, without even touching myself. And he slowed down for a minute or two but didn’t stop. I thought once I’d blown my load I’d be done, but it just felt so good I didn’t want him to stop.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was dying to tug on my cock but I knew I’d cum in a second if I touched myself now. I wanted Winston to be inside me when I finally lost it and came. Winston’s cock, though, while thickening a little, wasn’t getting hard, so I couldn’t ride him yet. I took it out of my mouth, and stroked it with my hand, my saliva providing the lube.

Winston could obviously sense my growing frustration. “It might take a bit of encouragement,” he admitted, apologetically. “I already nutted this morning. With Callum.”

“Did he fuck you again after that first time?” I asked him, stroking his cock.

“Of course. That’s all we did. That whole time, I didn’t fuck him once. He turned me into a bottom, I guess.” That made him laugh. “He fucked me like, several times a day, every day. And he made me cum every time. There were a couple of points where I’d feel myself cum but nothing would come out, because he’d already fucked every last bit of cum out of me. It’s a fucking wild feeling.”

“That first night, he woke up in the middle of the night and fucked me again. We fucked all night; I barely slept at all. Then like mid-morning he woke me up fucking me again, and we lay around in bed all day just chilling, making out. I thought I’d probably get dressed and head home at some point, but then he told me to stay again. That night we moved from the fuck room into the master bedroom, and then that pretty much became our routine. Wake, fuck, eat, chill, fuck, chill, eat, fuck, sleep. Repeat.”

I could feel his cock suddenly start to get hard in my hand as he told he how good it felt waking up next to Callum. “I’d be half asleep, and I’d feel his cock rubbing against my hole. And he’d nuzzle my neck, and I’d just back up onto him, and he’d fuck me gently till I was awake. Then rough till I came.”

By now his cock was rock hard. I didn’t waste any time. I scrambled to get my pants off, lubed up Winston’s cock with my spit, and climbed onto him. As I felt his long shaft push its way into me I felt complete in a way I hadn’t since then night he left. I bucked up and down, milking his cock with my ass. “Fuck, bae, it’s so hot. I can’t believe you let him fuck you!”

“I know. It was unbelievable. So good.” 

I kissed him. He kissed me back for a second before pulling away. “You know the hottest thing?” he asked. “He has these piercing eyes, and when he’d feel me getting close he’d get so close I could feel his breath on me, and he’d look into my fucking soul when I came on his cock.”

God that was hot. In all the years together I’d never heard him talk like that.

“He fucking owned me. I spent that whole week just begging for him to fuck me, wandering round his mansion with his cum leaking out of me the whole time.”

That admission made me reel. And the way Winston’s eyes suddenly widened told me that he’d just realised he’d said too much.

“You let him cum inside you?” 

He said nothing for a second. And that second was all it took; the thought of Winston having another man cum inside him, over and over, was enough to set me off instantly. I felt the rush through my balls and my cock, and I felt my cock contract as my dick erupted. I wailed in pleasure, embarrassment and pain as my dick convulsed and shot wads of cum into the air and onto Winston’s new sweater. My breath heaved, and for a several seconds I couldn’t say anything at all.

Winston breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh thank fuck,” he said. “I thought you were gonna be upset that we didn’t use condoms.” He paused, then admitted, “You know, I’ve got his load in me right now.”

Part of me thought I should yell at him. But it was too late: my body had given away how I really felt, and the way my spent dick pulsed again when he said that just confirmed it. I lifted myself off his cock and flopped down onto the sofa next to him. In that moment I didn’t know what to do. He’d broken one of the basic covenants of our relationship - another of the basic covenants. And I knew by letting myself show how much it turned me on, I’d just given him permission to keep doing it.

I started to stroke his cock again, but he brushed my hand aside. “Hey, I’m ok,” he said. “Like I said, I’ve cum already today.” He leaned over and kissed me. “Thanks for being cool with this. I know it must have been pretty intense.”

“Thanks.” There was an awkward silence, which I broke by asking him, “So, do you think you’ll want to go back for a repeat some time?”

“Oh yeah, Callum’s back a week Monday so I’m gonna go over then.” He awkwardly added, “If it’s ok by you,” as an afterthought.

“Back?”

“Yeah, he went to New York this morning on business.”

“This morning?” My heart sank because I instantly realised what that meant. “So if he hadn’t gone to New York, would you even have come home?”

He paused for just a tiny bit too long, and when he tried to assure me,“Sure, babe,” it was entirely unconvincing. He knew it too, so that he gave up the pretence; he just sighed and said, “Babe, I’m back now. That’s all that matters.”

We sat in silence for a minute. My heart was stinging from the feeling of being relegated to second-best, and still racing from the orgasm I’d just had. I felt so satisfied, but at the same time I could feel the tears coming and I desperately wanted them not to. Finally, I put on my best cheerful voice and asked, “So, now that you’re a bottom, does that mean I can fuck you some time?”

Winston just chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, I’m good thanks.”