The Bull, Part 8 (Patreon)

Here's another instalment of my latest story. This one is slightly out of sequence, because I was having trouble getting through the previous section so I decided to skip it and move on. I don't think it should matter though, as changing the order doesn't mess with the plot too much.

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The beginning of the semester was getting closer and I should have been making plans to get back into my study. But I had it so good at Cooper and Christopher’s place that the idea of another year of student life was looking less appealing every day.

Cooper could tell, too. And I think that suited him fine. “You know, you can stay here longer if you want to,” he said to me one morning when we were sitting in best post-fuck, drinking the coffees the cuck had brought us.

“That would be pretty sweet,” I said, sighing. “I have absolutely no desire to go back to university. But I really got to get that degree otherwise I’m going to be a pool boy the rest of my life. I mean, that has its benefits, but it’s not a career.”

“Is it what you want?”

“Not really.”

“What do you want, then?”

“Right now I want you to bury another load in my ass,” I joked.

He flipped me over and fucked me for the second time that morning, which put an end to the conversation. It did get me thinking though, about what I wanted for my life and whether I was really ready to give up this perfect arrangement I had going with Cooper and his cuck. I’d become accustomed to the set-up, and I felt at home here. And truth be told, my feelings for Cooper were starting to go beyond just enjoying the sex, and I wasn’t sure I wanted it to end.

I probably could have transferred universities and just stayed at Cooper’s place rent free while I studied for a while. But the idea of going back to study seemed bleak. I didn’t want to be a wage slave, I hated taking orders — unless it was as part of foreplay — and the idea of finishing my degree just to spend a decade working some office job bootlicking some middle-manager made me want to punch a wall.

So over the next few days the vision started to form in my head until eventually I had a plan of what I wanted to do. Something that would hopefully set me up to be my own boss, while not getting in the way of the chill life I’d made for myself.

It would need a bit of start-up money though. Lucky for me I knew someone who’d cream his pants at the chance of providing it.

So I hit up the cuck about it. He was working at home that day, and he’d just made me lunch. He went to walk away but before he did I said to him, “Hey cuck, I want to talk to you about something.”

“Okay,” he said, hovering. I gestured to him to sit down at the table with me, and he did.

“I decided I don’t want to go back to university this year,” I told him.

He just nodded and looked at me kind of blankly, so I prompted him, “Are you pleased that you get to have me around for a while longer?”

“Oh! Yes. That would be good.” He paused, choosing his words. “I can tell Cooper’s been enjoying having you here. I think he’d be happy if you stayed longer.”

“I know Cooper’s enjoying it,” I said, laughing at him stating the obvious. “How about you though? You want me to keep cuckolding you in your home?”

“Yes.” He averted his eyes, obviously a little ashamed at the admission.

“Good,” I said. “I think this arrangement is working pretty well for all of us.”

He nodded. “Thanks. For being with him. And for making me feel included.”

I couldn’t help laugh at that, considering how he’d been sleeping on the sofa alone in the spare room for close to two months now. “You’re welcome, cuck. Anyway,” I went on, “If I’m staying longer I’m not going to just sit around at home. It’s nice being waited on, but I’m an ambitious man and if I’m not going to be studying I’m going to be building a career for myself.”

“That makes sense,” the cuck replied.

“I figured as a starting point I’d put that yoga qualification to use,” I told him. “So I thought I’d hire a bit of space and start doing some classes, some one-on-ones, that kind of thing.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” he said. “Everyone I know is always telling me how long the waiting lists are to get into classes.”

“Good,” I said. “I’m going to need some money to get started. Enough to pay the first month on a space, and enough to buy equipment, make it look nice, that kind of thing.”

He looked confused for a second or two till he realised where I was going with it. He let out a short, nervous laugh. “Are you asking me for money?”

“No, I’m telling you you’re paying.”

That wiped the smile off his face. “Oh. How much?”

I shrugged. “Don’t know exactly. But I saw a place I liked which is about two thousand a month. And I’m guessing by the time you throw in a bunch of mats, sound equipment, a bit of paint, signage… oh and website costs, maybe another two grand on top of that.”

“You’re asking me for four thousand dollars?”

“Like I said, I wasn’t asking.”

“It’s a lot of money, surely you—.”

“It is a lot, isn’t it? Which makes me think it’ll be a pretty big thrill for you, splashing out for the man who’s cucking you.”

He didn’t answer, probably because he knew it was true.

“Just think of it as an investment in keeping your husband happy,” I told him. “An expensive, humiliating investment.”

He seemed to be pondering it for a while. “I’ll have to check with Cooper,” he said eventually.

“You do that,” I said. “I have a feeling he’ll be into the idea.”

That was the end of the conversation, and the cuck didn’t bring it up again,bneven when the four thousand dollars showed up in my bank account a couple of days later. I didn’t thank the cuck — I didn’t want to create an expectation he’d get any gratitude from me, or that I’d reciprocate in any way — but I did thank Cooper once we were alone that night.

“Don’t thank me,” he said though.

“It’s your money too,” I said, “even if he’s the one who had to hand it over.”

He shook his head. “We share most of our money but we each have a personal account. He paid out of his own savings.”

“Oh.” I was a little surprised and not sure how to take that knowledge.

“Don’t get me wrong, I would have gone halves with Christopher. I offered to. But he really wanted to do it himself.”

“Yeah?”

“I think he finds it hot, having to fund your lifestyle.”

“Of course he does. What about you?”

“I couldn’t care less about the money,” he said, shrugging. “But I’m glad you’re not moving out yet. I wasn’t looking forward to you leaving.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, nonchalantly fishing for compliments.

He paused for a second like he was not sure if he should say what’s on his mind. “I’ve had sex with plenty of guys since I met Christopher,” he said. “But you’re the first one since him who…”

“Who what..?”

“… who I’ve started falling in love with.”

Even though I’d kind of seen this coming, hearing the words come out of his mouth still had me reeling. I thought about whether I should say it back: I knew I’d developed some feelings for him and until now I hadn’t been forced to confront how strong they were. This had just been a casual arrangement, and I’d gone into it knowing that it was just about sex; Cooper was married, so there had never been any thought in my mind that this would turn into a real relationship. But here we were, and it felt right.

“You don’t have to say it yet,” he reassured me before I could open my mouth.

I didn’t know whether it was love or not. But I knew I needed him more than I ever had. I kissed him, softly at first but then more intensely as every feeling I had for him started to bubble up to the surface. I clutched at his neck and his back, pulling him in close with the sudden urge to feel as much of him as I possibly could.

“Fuck me,” I whispered to him. I could hear the desperation in my voice.

He gently advanced, gradually pushing me onto my back as he lowered himself down onto me. His chest against mine, his cock getting thicker and harder pressed up against my abdomen. I wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him closer and tighter, kissing him intensely, our mouths and tongues fighting to show each other who needed who more urgently. Then with a shift of his hips he had his cock lined up against my hole, and he started to ease it in, until it was deep inside and I felt complete.

We’d fucked slowly before, and passionately, and gently. But that night, I could honestly say, was the first time we properly made love. It sounds cheesy, I know. And I don’t know exactly what it was that made this time different. I guess it must have been the emotions, emanating from each of us, reaching out for the other, that connected us more intensely than we’d ever been before.

By the time we’d finished, and Cooper came in my ass for a second time, it seemed like it had been hours. My stomach was covered in cum that I didn’t even remember ejaculating, and I was fucking exhausted. I lay my head down on Cooper’s chest just meaning to leave it there a minute or so till I caught my breath, but I must have fallen asleep in an instant, nestled into him.

The next morning when I got out of bed Christopher was down on his hands and knees, kissing my feet as usual before I got in the shower. I usually didn’t bother saying much to him, but as he performed his embarrassing little ritual I decided to play with him. “Your husband’s in love with me,” I told him.

He instantly stopped what he was doing and looked up at me in shock.

I shrugged. “You’re not surprised, are you?”

He looked over at Cooper. I turned around and looked at him too.

“It’s true,” he said, looking apologetic but also excited at saying it out loud.

The cuck looked back at me. He blinked a few times as though he was having difficulty processing the thought. Then he just mumbled, “Excuse me,” as he got up off his knees and stumbled back down the hallway to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

“Oh shit.” I realised I might have pushed him too far.

Cooper looked concerned too. He climbed out of his bed and followed the cuck to his room, his big dick swinging as he walked. I followed too. He knocked softly on the door. “Christopher?”

There was no answer. He looked at me, a guilty worried look on his face. He held his palm up in a gesture for me to stay back, and he opened the door to the cuck’s room.

I couldn’t see what he was looking at, but I could see the look of surprise on his face. And the look of worry start to lift itself off him. I looked around the door to see what he’d found.

I expected to see the cuck crying. But I should have known he’d be wanking instead.