Author's Note
: Mark & Chelsea are using the three months before their wedding to play out a cuckold fantasy with their dominant young friend Dylan. In the last chapter they got off to good start for a couple weeks, then Mark finally went with Chelsea to Dylan's place to watch them fuck in person for the first time. Dylan dommed the hell out of them, prompting Chelsea to tell Dylan (with Mark's assent) that he "owns" her pussy... whatever that means. This chapter takes us up to four week before the wedding.
All characters and events are fictional.
_______________*_______________
Mark
Good god. If I'd been wondering where my limits were, that night at Dylan's place showed me.
Don't get me wrong, it was unbelievably hot. The most scaldingly erotic night of my life. It was such a primal mindfuck just seeing them together from five feet away that I still can't even think about it without getting hard. And Chelsea was incredible β it was like the past few months had just been practice, a way to learn the exact placement of all my buttons so that when the big day finally came she could mash them all at the same time and fry my circuits once and for all.
But it was also so intense I couldn't stand it. After that first big fuck (and Dylan's brainstorm to have me wear condoms even to touch myself, and eating her out afterwards with him just down the hall), I had to retreat to the living room and listen to the debauchery from a distance. When Dylan finally emerged I feigned sleep because my brain was still too scrambled for human interaction. He went back in to continue defiling my girlfriend, and before long I fell asleep for real. Oops.
So it was a difficult night in some ways, but afterwards I still felt good. I mean, it's complicated, but this is all still going according to plan, isn't it? Chelsea still loves me, treats me well. In fact, if anything, she's been even more horny & lovey-dovey than usual. We're still having sex; I admit I was a little anxious about the whole "Dylan owns my pussy now" thing, but so far nothing seems different. It felt real in the moment β Chelsea
made
it feel real, because she's incredible β but clearly it was just a game. Or maybe "game" is the wrong word: it was a symbolic gesture, designed to tweak the fucked-up parts of my psyche (and hers, and Dylan's). But it's been a few weeks now and nothing has actually changed following our night at Dylan's.
Well, ok, strictly speaking a couple small things have changed. For one, instead of meeting up with Dylan every 5 or 6 days, lately it's been more like every 3 or 4. But that's actually fine! Even when she's not literally here with me, it still feels like a thing we're doing it together. I get a sexual charge from her absence, just knowing what's going on. I'm thinking about her, and I know she's thinking about me. I usually get updates & pics & videos while she's out. And when she returns we have our own kind of fun with it. Plus she's just in a great mood all the time, which is sweet.
But, it is a little tricky with work. Between her dates with Dylan (and all the time she spends in bed with me, reliving those dates), Chelsea hasn't been gaming with me as much, and that slows down our content creation. I mean, our channel is about the both of us gaming, but I'm not an idiot, so I know that she's the main attraction: her personality, her humor, her showmanship... and of course her beauty.
During a streaming session recently, a fan asked an awkward question in the chat:
"hey where's chelsea at? like half the time lately it's just mark playing. It's like she thinks she's too good for us or something lol"
I just pretended I didn't see the message.
***
About a week ago we actually broke one of our rules. I was going to be chained to my computer all night for a marathon editing session on our latest video. (We'd fallen behind on posting new content, had to get that done). At the same time Chelsea was heading over to Dylan's pretty late that night... and, you know, they take a while. Since she'd be getting back at like 2:00 AM and I wouldn't even be able to hang out with her, we decided she should just crash at his place for once. I think she's the one who brought it up first, but we both agreed it made sense in this case. Seriously, it was no big deal. She stayed with Dylan overnight and, look: the world didn't end.
But when she got back the next day, late in the afternoon, I did a double take: Chelsea looked very different from the woman who'd left here the night before. Her normally straight brown hair had been styled to be wavier, with more volume, and with sandy blonde highlights. She had on a black lace choker, the kind of thing a teenage goth girl might wear. And her top was a tight, stylish sleeveless tee that showed off a little bit of cleavage and stopped short of her belly button; that is
not
what she was wearing the last time I saw her. I've known her for six years and every part of this look was new to me.
And she looked hot. I mean, she always does, but now it was an "in your face" kind of sexy instead of her usual "girl next door" sexy. Honestly, aside from her glasses she could've been one of those Instagram models whose whole job is just to look fuckable on camera. What in seven hells was going on?
"Wow!" I finally managed to say. "Damn, Chelz. Where is my girlfriend and what have you done with her?"
"You like?" She preened & posed, feeling playful.
"Oh, I like. You look amazing. I'm just surprised is all, I had no idea you were gonna... I mean, where's the shirt you had on last night?"
"We-eell... I guess you could say it's in Dylan's trash can, with a giant rip down the middle."
"It's in the... oh, fuck. You mean he tore it off you?"
"Yes, sweetie: he ripped it to shreds then picked me up and carried me to his bedroom. He's
really
strong, you know."
"Holy shit..."
"Aww, heheheh... does my sweet, gentle boyfriend like knowing that I got fucking manhandled like that?"
"Well, he sure doesn't hate it..."
"I bet. Anyway, we had a little 'good morning' fuck when we got up, then I put on one of Dylan's t-shirts and he drove us to the mall so he could replace the top he destroyed. He's such a gentleman, right?"
"Clearly. And the hair?"
"Well, we were already at the mall so we just kinda took our time, made a day of it. I tried on different tops... or, I guess I should say Dylan
watched
me try them on. We might have gotten a little distracted in the changing room..."