When my boyfriend’s hot best friend moved in I couldn’t resist his advances. I never thought I’d chest but it was so worth it.
I never thought I would cheat on Chris. We had been together eighteen months and it was perfect. I was twenty-two, he was twenty-five, and we had moved in together after six months. He was the perfect guy for me – strong, confident, dominant in bed but sweet outside of it. Our sex life was incredible. He knew exactly how to open me up and use me, and I lived for it. Everything felt blissful.
Then Oliver moved in.
Oliver was Chris’s best friend from college. After a nasty breakup with his girlfriend he needed somewhere to stay for a while. Chris offered the spare room without even asking me. I did not mind at first – extra company, someone to split bills with. But the second Oliver walked through the door I felt it. He was sex on legs. Taller than Chris, broader shoulders, that easy grin and a kind of charisma that was just intoxicating, that made you just want to please him, go out of your way for him, just be near him. Chris was hot, no question, but Oliver was on another level. The way he carried himself, the low laugh, the way his eyes would linger on me just a second too long when Chris was not watching.
Living together made it worse. I would catch him coming out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel slung low on his hips, water running down his abs. Or he would brush past me in the kitchen and his hand would rest on my lower back a beat longer than necessary. Late nights when Chris had already gone to bed, Oliver and I would end up talking on the sofa, his thigh pressed against mine. I started getting hard just from being near him. I tried to ignore it. I really did. But every day the spell got stronger.
Then came the night out.
The three of us went to a club downtown. Music thumping, drinks flowing, the three of us laughing and dancing together. Chris was in a great mood until about two hours in. He rubbed his temples and pulled me aside.
“My headache is killing me, babe. I am going to head home. You and Oliver stay and have a good night, yeah? Do not let me ruin it for you two. Besides, he could do with a good night out to blow off some steam!”
He kissed me, told Oliver to look after me, and left.
Oliver and I kept dancing. The crowd was thick. Bodies everywhere. At first it felt innocent enough, but the more we drank and the slower the songs got, the closer we got. His hands found my hips. He pulled me back against him. I felt the hard line of his cock pressing into my ass through his jeans. I should have stepped away. Instead I pushed back.
We started grinding properly. His hands slid under my shirt, thumbs brushing my nipples, then dropped lower to squeeze my ass. I reached back and grabbed his thighs, pulling him tighter against me. We were basically dry-fucking on the dance floor, lost in the music and the heat. My cock was rock hard in my jeans. His was even harder against my ass. The tension was unbearable. Even now we could have just passed this off as having a good time – we did not have to cross the line – yet we soon would.
When we finally called an Uber I was buzzing. We slid into the back seat together. The driver did not pay us any attention. Oliver turned to me in the dark, eyes heavy with lust. Without a word he took my hand and placed it firmly against the thick bulge in his jeans.
“You going to let me fuck you?”
My breath caught. I did not pull away. His cock felt huge under my palm.
“Chris always says you’ve got a dynamite pussy,” he continued, voice low and rough. “That’s mostly why he’s with you. Says you can take a real dicking. Well, I have seen his dick before and if you think that is big, you are in for a shock.”
The words sent a jolt straight through me. Chris had told him that? About me? It was filthy and humiliating and it made my hole clench. I was already gone, drawn completely under his spell.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Okay.”
He smirked, squeezed my hand around his cock, and did not let go until we pulled up outside the apartment.
The second the front door closed behind us he had me pinned against the wall, mouth on mine. The kiss was rough, hungry, nothing like the sweet kisses I shared with Chris. His tongue pushed into my mouth, his hands already tugging at my clothes. We stumbled into the living room, still kissing, until my knees hit the floor.
I looked up at him, heart hammering, and reached for his belt. He did not stop me. I pulled his cock out and my eyes went wide. It was massive – long, thick, heavy, already leaking from the tip. Way bigger than Chris. Unlike Chris who was cut, Oliver still had his foreskin. I peeled it back slowly with my fingers, exposing the swollen head underneath. The strong, musky scent hit me first. I leaned in and slid my tongue under the heavy foreskin, swirling it around the head, tasting the salty mix of pre-cum and the sharp, bitter tang of piss that had built up there. It was filthy and intense, and my own cock throbbed harder in my jeans just from the taste. I kept licking under it, pushing my tongue deeper into the folds, cleaning every bit of that strong flavour while Oliver watched me with dark eyes.
Oliver groaned, one hand fisting in my hair.
” Fuck, that is it. Suck that big dick.”
I opened wider and took the head into my mouth, sucking eagerly. I worked the foreskin with my tongue, pushing it back and forth as I bobbed my head. Saliva poured down my chin as I gagged on the sheer thickness. For a solid five minutes I sucked him like that, taking him deeper each time until my throat clenched around the head. I pulled off to catch my breath and licked down the full length of his shaft, tracing every thick vein with my tongue before sucking one of his heavy balls into my mouth. The taste of his skin was strong and masculine. I switched to the other ball, then went back to the head, sliding my tongue under the foreskin again to lap at the piss and pre-cum trapped there. Drool soaked his balls and my chin. My jaw ached from being stretched so wide. My own cock was throbbing untouched in my jeans, leaking into my underwear. He fucked my mouth in slow, deep strokes, using me, holding my head steady as he thrust past my lips. Every time he pushed deeper I gagged hard, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, but I kept going, desperate to take more of him. The wet sounds of my mouth filled the living room. I could feel the weight of his cock on my tongue, the way the foreskin rolled back and forth with every movement.
Oliver groaned again and thrust a little harder, making me choke and drool even more down my chin and onto his balls. I reached up and stroked the base of his thick shaft while I sucked the head, my fingers barely able to wrap around it. The whole time I kept thinking how different this felt from sucking Chris, how much bigger and heavier Oliver was, how that uncut foreskin gave me so much more to play with. I slid my tongue back under it again, tasting that sharp piss and salt mixture until my mouth was full of it. My throat burned from the repeated gagging but I did not stop. I wanted to impress him. I wanted to show him I could handle this huge uncut cock even if it made me choke. Oliver kept a firm grip on my hair, guiding my head up and down in a steady rhythm, using my mouth like it was his to control. By the end of those five minutes my jaw was locked open, my chin and neck were slick with spit, and my eyes were watering. I pulled back just enough to breathe, strings of saliva connecting my lips to his cock, then dove back in, tonguing under the foreskin one more time before taking him as deep as I could.
Eventually he pulled me off.
“Go get the lube.”
I scrambled to the bathroom on shaky legs, grabbed the bottle from under the sink, and hurried back. Oliver was waiting by the couch. I climbed onto the couch on my knees, ass up, face down against the cushions without thinking.
He came up behind me and shoved my trousers and underwear down roughly, exposing me completely. Cool air hit my hole. His big hands spread my cheeks wide, holding them apart so he could look his fill.
“Damn, look at that boy pussy,” he muttered. “Chris was not lying.”
He stared at it for a long moment, thumbs pulling my cheeks even wider. My hole twitched under his gaze, already clenching from the attention. He brought three fingers up and started rubbing them slowly over the outside of my hole and down across my taint, spreading the lube in lazy circles. The pads of his fingers dragged over the sensitive skin, pressing lightly, teasing the tight ring without pushing inside yet.
“Fuck, this is a pretty little hole,” he said, voice low and rough. “Look how it’s winking at me already. Chris really has been keeping this dynamite pussy all to himself. Selfish prick. Bet he doesn’t even know how to appreciate it properly. I can already tell it’s going to grip my cock so fucking tight.”
He kept rubbing, three fingers sliding up and down my taint and around my hole, pressing a little firmer each time, smearing lube everywhere. My cock hung heavy between my legs, leaking onto the couch. Every slow circle made my hole flutter and open slightly, begging for more even though I stayed quiet. Oliver chuckled darkly.
“Yeah, that’s it. Relax for me. This boy pussy is mine tonight. Going to open you up nice and wide so I can really wreck it. Chris has no idea what he’s missing by not sharing this tight little hole.”
He spent a good minute or two just rubbing and talking, fingers gliding over my hole and taint, pressing the lube in, making everything slick and shiny. My breathing got heavier. My hole kept twitching under the steady pressure of his fingers. Then he finally slicked them more and shoved two inside me without warning. I gasped at the sudden stretch. He fingered me hard and deep, scissoring me open, getting me ready but not gentle about it. Then I felt the thick head of his cock pressing against my hole.
He pushed in.
It was tough going. He was so much thicker than I was used to. The blunt head stretched my hole wider than it had ever been, forcing the tight ring to open around him. I felt every ridge and vein as he sank deeper, the burn spreading through my guts like fire. My muscles clenched hard around the invading thickness, trying to push him back out even as my body betrayed me and pulled him in. I bit down on my lip, trying to stay quiet, but little whimpers still escaped with every inch. My hands fisted in the cushions. My hole burned and fluttered, struggling to take the sheer size of him. Inch by inch he forced his way inside, slow but relentless, until his hips were finally flush against my ass and I felt his heavy balls resting against me. I was stretched to my limit, stuffed so full I could barely breathe. My stomach felt tight and bloated from how deep he was.
He held still once he was all the way inside, giving me a moment to adjust. I could feel every throb of his cock inside me, the way it pulsed and twitched against my walls. My hole kept clenching and fluttering around him involuntarily, trying to get used to the overwhelming thickness. I was panting hard into the cushion, eyes squeezed shut, sweat breaking out across my back. He rubbed one big hand slowly down my spine, almost soothing.
“Breathe,” he muttered. “Let that tight boy pussy get used to me. Fuck, you are tight.”
He stayed buried to the hilt for a long moment, not moving, just letting me feel every inch of him splitting me open. My legs were shaking. I could feel the burn slowly easing into something hotter, deeper, as my body started to accept the stretch. Even Chris had never filled me like this. Oliver’s cock felt thicker, heavier, and the way it throbbed inside me made my own cock leak steadily onto the couch. He gave a low groan and flexed his hips slightly, testing how much I could take.
“Yeah… that’s it.” He was still going slow, but after a minute or two he got impatient. “Fuck this waiting shit.”
He grabbed his underwear from the floor and shoved the fabric into my mouth, gagging me. The taste hit me instantly, strong and filthy. It was damp with his sweat, the fabric thick with the musky, salty smell of his balls and the sharp, bitter edge of piss that had soaked into it earlier. I could taste the remnants of his pre-cum too, mixed with the raw, masculine scent of his body. My tongue was pressed against the dirty cloth and I had no choice but to breathe through my nose, inhaling that heavy, unwashed smell with every desperate gasp.
Then he started fucking me properly.
He did not give me any more time to adjust. He pulled back and slammed back in hard, setting a fast, brutal rhythm right away. The thick cock stretched my hole wide on every thrust, the burn flaring hot and sharp as he forced his way deep. I could not catch my breath. Each powerful stroke knocked the air out of me, making my whole body jolt forward. The pain was real, a deep, aching stretch that made my eyes water, but underneath it was a filthy, overwhelming pleasure that came from being used so roughly. My hole clenched and fluttered around him, trying to slow him down, but he just fucked harder, not caring that I was still adjusting. The couch creaked loudly under us. Skin slapped against skin with every thrust. I was moaning around the gag, the sound muffled and desperate, unable to stay quiet no matter how hard I tried.
He grabbed a cushion and shoved it over my face, pressing it down hard to muffle me.
“There. Now take it.”
He kept pounding me, hips snapping forward in deep, relentless strokes that bottomed out every single time. The burn in my hole turned hotter, mixing with a raw, forced pleasure that made my cock leak steadily onto the couch. I could not move. I could not speak. I could only take it, my body submitting completely as he used my hole like it belonged to him. Every thrust dragged his thick cock over my prostate, sending sparks of unwanted pleasure through the pain. The dirty underwear in my mouth tasted even stronger now that I was breathing hard, the musky, sweaty fabric pressed against my tongue. I could smell him all around me – the scent of his body, his cock, and the sweat we were both working up. He fucked me faster, grunting with effort, holding nothing back. My legs shook. My hole burned and stretched around him, forced to open wider and wider with every rough thrust. I was completely at his mercy, pinned down and gagged, taking his cock whether I was ready or not.
He used my hole like a pocket pussy after that. Relentless. Deep. Possessive. Every thrust opened me up more around his thick meat.
“Fuck yeah,” he groaned. “This is a real dynamite pussy. Chris is a selfish prick for not sharing this tight hole. Keeping it all to himself like that.”
His words made me clench around him even tighter. He was right. It felt incredible.
He fucked me faster, grunting with every thrust. I could feel him getting close, cock swelling even bigger inside me.
“Gonna breed this pussy,” he growled.
I tried to protest around the gag and the cushion. “No, do not cum in me, Chris might notice,”
But he just laughed darkly and slammed in deep.
“When I fuck, I breed. You should be lucky to have got my seed.”
He came hard, pulsing thick ropes of cum deep inside me. I felt every spurt, hot and heavy, filling me up. Breeding me.
Even though I had protested, once it was happening I knew he was right. I did feel lucky. Grateful. My hole fluttered around his cock as he emptied himself.
When he finally pulled back a little I managed to mumble around the gag, “Thank you,”
He gave my ass a hard, stinging slap that made me jolt.
Then he slowly pulled out. I felt his cum start to leak immediately. He wiped his cock clean on my T-shirt, smearing it with lube and cum, then tucked himself away like nothing had happened.
Without another word he headed to his room.
“Night.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
I stayed there on the couch for a long time, trousers around my ankles, cushion on the floor, his cum dripping out of my stretched, used hole and down my thighs. My T-shirt was ruined. My jaw still ached from sucking him. My ass throbbed.
What the fuck had I just done?
I had let my boyfriend’s best friend fuck me raw in our living room while Chris slept in the next room. I had let him breed me. I had thanked him for it.
I cleaned up as best I could in the dark, went to the bathroom and pushed out as much of Oliver’s seed as I could and finally, exhausted, slipped into bed beside Chris. He was fast asleep, breathing steady. I lay there staring at the ceiling, Oliver’s cum still leaking out of me, the taste of his cock still on my tongue, and wondered how the hell I was ever going to look either of them in the eye again.
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