I see a quick flash of Kyle before he’s kissing me. I submit. Because it’s what I’ve wanted so many times that he’s been over here. It feels even better than normal. And I wonder if it feels so good because I know what I’m doing is wrong. Because it’s behind Blake’s back.
Stop it!
I can’t. I kiss back. Violently. Passionately. Recklessly.
Kyle kicks the door closed behind him as he unfastens my belt and yanks down my jeans and boxers. My cock springs free, and he hastily jerks on it.
I grip onto his arm and pull it away, but his grip is tight, and my resistance to this is nearly as nonexistent as my resistance to him coming over.
Tears form in my eyes as I find the strength to push him away.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his face red with fury.
“We can’t fucking do this!”
“Why not?”
“Because I have a boyfriend.”
“That is such bullshit and you know it.”
I grab my pants and pull them back up, fastening my belt.
“It’s not bullshit.”
“I can’t believe you told Blake that you didn’t want to hook up anymore.”
“What? I never said that.”
“Yes, you did. He told me yesterday.”
“What the fuck were you doing with him yesterday?”
“What do you think we were doing?”
“You fucking asshole!”
I charge him. As much as I enjoy being with him, nothing is going to stop me from pummeling his face in.
He backs away quickly, retreating until his back is against the door.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! You’re agreement!” he shouts.
I’m too fucking mad to think, but the words stop me from totally losing it.
“Agreement?” is all I can manage to say.
“About hooking up with other people.”
He stares at me for a moment until his mouth drops open.
“You don’t have an agreement, do you?”
My face is nearly as hot as when he kissed me when he barged in here.
I shake my head. “No. We don’t.”
His gaze drifts as the world I know falls apart all around me.
Tears collect in my eyes, and I know this isn’t going to be pretty.
“He’s been fucking cheating on me with you?” I ask.
“I thought you knew,” he iterates, as though he’s trying to make sure my anger stays at bay.
I shake my head again and turn away from him.
“Fuck…Fuck…Fuck!”
The tears are rolling down my cheeks before I know it. I don’t want to be such a baby, but three fucking years. Through surgery…chemo…his fucking parents. And that’s what I get?
I turn back to Kyle.
“I think you should probably go.”
“But I want you,” he whispers almost as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud.
“Get the fuck out!” I shout. I hurry to him, grab his arm and pull him away from the door.
So many thoughts. So many emotions. I’m pissed at Blake. Pissed because of everything I’ve put up with. But scared that it’s all my fault. That I couldn’t give him what he needed. I’m relieved to know the truth. I hate Kyle for fucking my boyfriend. And I’m still hot as fuck for him at the same time.
I’m terrified that if I cave to my most primal impulse, I might wind up hurting him, but I can’t help myself. I’m too overwhelmed to control my body right now. As I succumb to my rage, I push him back up against the door and kiss him. The intensity knocks his head back against the door with a thud. It must’ve hurt, but I don’t care right now. I’m too busy trying to get this fucking button-up off him. What seemed adorable at one time, is now a wild inconvenience.
As I reach the last button, I’m so frustrated with it that I just tear at the placket, sending the button flying across the room. He apologizes between kisses as I undo his jean button and force his jeans and briefs to his knees, spinning him around to the door. I pull my own pants down.
“Do whatever you need to,” Kyle whispers.
I spit in my palm and massage the modest lubrication across my shaft.
He pushes his ass out, inviting me to take what I surely deserve. Especially considering how much I’ve craved it. How much I’ve denied myself.
I press the head of my cock against his hole.
He doesn’t offer his usual aroused moan. He grinds his teeth and hisses through them as I fight to get inside. Without lube, it’s difficult. But I’m sure Blake has opened him enough for me to make my way in with a certain amount of ease.
No such luck.
I have to force myself in until Kyle is growling like a dog.
“This how he gave it to you?!” I ask. “Huh?”
“I’m sorry!” he calls out, his face turned to me, red as ever, tears in his eyes, surely from the pain.
“Were…you…sorry…while you were fucking my boyfriend?” I say between deep thrusts that I know are way too fast for him. They hurt my shaft, so I can only imagine what they’re doing to him.
He unleashes a blood—curdling scream. It gives me some relief knowing he’s expressing on the outside what I’m only feeling on the inside right now.
I continue invading his body, penetrating forcefully, rubbing my hands violently across his abs, his sides, his chest. Each touch is more aggressive than the last.
The angle I’m getting here isn’t good enough, though. I need to be somewhere that will permit me to shove my dick as far back into this little punk’s hole as I can. I turn to the kitchen bar.
It’s about the right height. Only one way to find out.
I kick my shoes off, step out of my pants, and pull him with me over to the bar. He bends so that his stomach is flat against it. I’m still inside him, and I don’t plan on leaving any time soon.
Sweat rushes down my forehead.
So fucking hot in here.
I pull off my shirt and continue drilling into Kyle, who grips onto the other side of the bar for support.
Is this how he took it from Blake? Or did he like it rougher? Did he like it when he felt like his hole was about to split in two. I plow into him. He’s not screaming like before, so he must be getting used to my girth by now, which is a shame.
A slapping sound fills the air each time my pelvis slams into his tight ass.
His tears drip onto the bar as he profusely apologizes.
“Were you sorry when he came up inside you?” I shout.
I hate myself for how awful I’m being to him. He said he didn’t know any better, but I can’t help myself, considering he’s allowing me to take out my pain on him like this.
I keep pushing into him until suddenly the tragedy of it all strikes me, and I burst into tears, collapsing on top of his back, my tears falling onto his cheek.
I feel his body shaking, but it’s hard to distinguish it from how much I’m shaking right now.
He takes quick, unsteady breaths.
I kiss his cheek softly.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry.”
I pull out of him and step back, trying to calm myself. Trying to still the rage that lingers within me.
This is so fucking embarrassing. Taking him like this. Falling apart in front of him. Kyle must think I’m some sort of psychopath. He stands and turns to me, his dick hard as I’ve ever seen it. His face pale and his eyes wide, he looks like he’s in shock. He approaches me slowly, carefully. He wraps his arms around me and brings his body flush with mine, kissing my cheek, as if he’s asking for my forgiveness.
Even now, mad as I am—confused as I am—the heat he stirs within me is powerful. Potent.
And now I just want to be with him so that he can help me forget everything he just told me.
I kiss him softly to assure him that the rage has quieted.
He kisses back. I let it intensify naturally.
He kicks
off his shoes and maneuvers out of his jeans. I lose myself in how good it feels to be close to him. To taste him. I kneel down and hoist him into the air. Not any issue, since I bench at least fifty pounds more than he weighs. I carry him into the bedroom, setting him down on the bed and gazing over his beautiful, tight body.
KYLE
Oh, my fucking ass.
It stings. God, that couldn’t have been good for it. It reminds me of a time when I stuck my dildo in too deep. So deep I was concerned I might have had to go to the hospital.
I did what I had to do. Not just for Todd, but for me. Because the moment I realized what I’d done, how I’d hurt him, I knew he needed to punish me for what I’d been doing with Blake behind his back. When he was inside me like that, forcing it so fucking deep way too quickly, I felt like he was giving me what I deserved. Though every part of my body was telling me that this was wrong. That I needed to protect myself from the assault.
Todd leans down and kisses me.
It’s that familiar kiss. The one that I always crave. Another teardrop hits my face.
I don’t judge him. I can’t even imagine what I would be like if I’d been in the same situation. And he’s free to use me in whatever way will make him feel better. Whatever will bring him relief.
He wraps his arm under the crook of my leg and lifts it up, navigating back inside me.
The sting from his violent insertion intensifies as he slides inside. As I endure the pain, I can’t help but hiss. It hurts so fucking much. He moves much slower, but it’s still too quick. When he begins thrusting, I grip onto the sheets and let the pain ripple through me. Because even when it hurts, I like just knowing that I’m with him. There’s something so fucking hot about being owned by him. Even if he’s causing me pain.
He gazes down at me, his muscles bouncing as he jerks about, filling me with his shaft.
I look into his eyes, trying to figure out how he feels. It must be hard for him after what he’d just discovered about that asshole. I’ve hardly had time to consider how I feel about how Blake lied to me this whole time. But regardless, it’s nothing compared to what Todd has been through.
He pants as he leans down and kisses me again, and I greedily kiss back, wanting to convince him to stay close to me, kissing me just like this for as long as he will.
“Todd, you feel so fucking good,” I say, feeling totally free without Blake’s presence or interference.
He massages his hand up and down my side. His body heat emanates across me. Warming my flesh. As his breath slides through his nostrils and covers my face as he breathes between kisses.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he mutters as he penetrates me more powerfully, his cock hitting that tender place in me. Exciting my nerves. Making the sensation in my dick swell.
I’m not even touching myself, but I feel the pressure in my cock building and building.
No! I can’t come before him! I need to be there for him.
I try to distract myself, hoping it will make me less aroused, but the way he’s hitting my prostate, it’s clearly a physical response I can’t control. And I know I’m going to explode soon.
Too soon.
I cringe as the pained sensation in my ass couples with what now feels like pain in my cock as my orgasm pushes through.
Todd’s eyes widen and he grinds his teeth. He scoops my legs into the crook of his arms and plows me.
My prostate is so hypersensitive right now that it burns when he hits it, but I just have to wait a moment longer. I can take it, but I can’t help screaming out my own pain as he screams out while he jerks and twists with his climax.
As his body settles, he relaxes and collapses on top of me.
It feels so good having his come inside me, knowing that he’s filled me.
“How did you know he wouldn’t be here?” Todd asks.
We lie across the bed, facing each other. He strokes his finger down my face. Such a soft touch. Something I need since I’m in so much pain right now.
I gaze at his face, taking in the beauty that, at least for now, is mine. His short, blond hair—that shade I wish I had—is slightly tousled. A bead of sweat slides forward from his bangs.
“I checked his phone. After he told me you didn’t want me to come over anymore. He had a showing, so I thought that’s when I could talk to you.”
“I guess it’s a good thing you came here.”
It’s a bittersweet acknowledgement. I can tell by the sadness in his eyes, because he doesn’t really look all that happy about it. Like maybe he would have preferred not to know the truth.
“I am sorry,” I say again. Because I don’t think I can say it enough. “He told me that you didn’t want to hear about just the two of us being together. To never mention it because it would make you mad. That’s why I never said anything.”
“It’s not your fault.” He smiled wryly. “You spend that much time with a guy you think you know, and it fucking hurts. You know? And I mean, I don’t feel great saying this, but he kept telling me that he couldn’t do anything. Like he was having a hard time getting aroused. What kind of fucked up shit is that? Why would he do that?”
I can’t think of a good reason.
“Two months before I even met you?” he asks, but I know he doesn’t really need a response. He’s running through the timeframe in his head, trying to make sense of what Blake did to him. “I was there for him every fucking day. I was there when he found out about his cancer. I waited for him through surgery. I got off work just so I could take that asshole to the hospital every day for his treatments. It’s just hard when you know that you sacrificed so much for someone who evidently never sacrificed shit for you.”
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
“That’s a really good fucking question.”
3
BLAKE
I drill into Luke. It’s an anger-fuck. I’m pissed that Kyle hasn’t texted me back in three fucking weeks. Seriously? He sure liked it when I was fucking him like this before. But I can’t stop thinking about how he wanted me to give him Todd’s number. Did he like Todd better? Did he think he was hotter? Did he like him because he’s younger? He was always so fucking into it, but I didn’t figure a whore like him would give a shit about who he was fucking. It’s not like Todd gave a shit about him. Hasn’t even asked about the kid.
Luke slaps at my ass as I slam into him in the backseat of his Corolla. That’s the signal, but I don’t care. I keep up my pace, and when he tries to slap again I grab his wrist and twist it.
“Fuckin’ A, Blake!” he calls out. “Stop it! I just need a second.”
I toss his hand aside, snatch him by his hair, yank him back forcefully, and wrap my arm around his throat. I constrict his breath. I whisper into his ear, in a way that I know he’ll take me fucking seriously: “Shut the fuck up or it’s going to hurt a lot worse than this, you fucking pussy.”
He gags under my hold, and I don’t let up. He needs to know I’m serious right now.
I have every right to be mad. Did I really get refused because some kid wanted to fuck my boyfriend?
Inexperienced Todd? That’s who that kid wanted?
It’s because he’s younger than me. That’s what it has to be. I bet Kyle’s imagined himself with my boyfriend. Imagined them being together. As a couple. How dare he do that while I’m fucking him? Bet he thought I was such a fucking idiot for letting it go on while he was dreaming about being in some kissy-faced relationship with him. The fucking nerve.
I wonder if he’s tried to contact Todd on his own. If they might have swapped numbers one night when we were all hooking up.
I’ve checked Todd’s phone a few times since we stopped seeing Kyle, but I didn’t see anything suspicious. Not from Kyle or any guy. Todd isn’t going to make a fucking fool out of me.
Luke doesn’t resist anymore. Just takes my dick as I plow into him. Knowing I have him completely as he trembles in fear makes me come. I own him.
&nb
sp; In your face, Todd!
When I get home, I see that Todd’s already set out dinner. Spaghetti and garlic bread, already set on two plates at the dinner table.
Good boy.
I’ve calmed down since I left Luke about twenty minutes earlier. He was pissed. I doubt he’ll be responding to any of my texts anytime soon, but I don’t give a shit. Right now, the only thing I’m concerned about is figuring out if Todd is up to something with Kyle. I’ve become fixated on it. It’s grown, festered within me, until it has become my obsession.
“Hey, baby,” Todd says as he sees me, a warm smile across his face. He’s seemed so relaxed the past few weeks, adding to my suspicions. Is he running a game on me?
Bitch, I have run games on you ever since we got together.
I calm myself. I have to play up this act for a little while.
I offer a kiss.
After we both eat, a silence stretches between us. Long. Still. Unbearable. All I can think about is how I wish he would get away from his phone so that I can take a peak. The moment doesn’t come till a few hours later when he takes a shower.
I scan through it. The messages are as useless as always, and I check the deleted messages, but nothing there, either.
Is he really smart enough to think of another way of chatting with this asshole?
I check his Facebook messenger next.
Nothing.
I login to his Gmail account and look for recent messages when I find a chat thread.
Bingo.
Messages with Kyle. I skim through them.
Days…weeks…of them exchanging messages, talking about when they’re getting together. What they’re going to do with each other. This whole time, they’ve been laughing at me, mocking me.
Heat builds in my face, and I’m half tempted to drag Todd out of the shower and ask him to explain himself.
Cheating Bastard Page 4
