Author's Note:
Please note: this is fantasy! If you don't like cheating/betrayal PLEASE don't read on because that's what's coming. This chapter follows Mark immediately after his first experience cheating online. I recommend reading chapters 1 and 2 first, or for IRL cheating, wait for the next chapter, where Mark's cheating moves on. Thanks for reading!
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Mark shuffled down the hallway towards his bedroom, on route to the en-suite bathroom. His dick was only semi-soft, which seemed remarkable considering he'd just had the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life. Why was it so mind-blowing? Because for the first time, Mark had cheated online. He'd gone to a sex chatroom, intending (so he told himself) to observe the others chatting, or at a push, chat to someone about his growing cheating kink. But he'd done a lot more than that.
It wasn't that he didn't love his wife. Mark had been with Jo for over three years, married for just shy of one, and had not a thing to complain about. She was beautiful, funny, passionate, intelligent, sexy. And yet, even before they married, he had slowly become more turned on by the idea of cheating. He never considered it to be anything to worry about. He hadn't noticed it beginning, and could no more tell you the first porn he watched that highlighted a cheating husband element than he could tell you what he'd had for breakfast on some random Tuesday two years ago.
But while his breakfast habits had remained stable, his porn watching habits hadn't. The fantasy became twisted, became something he felt like he needed to explore. His wife had never expressed any interest in a non-exclusive relationship, and the one time he'd tried to float the idea in bed she'd thought he was professing his commitment to her, not his desire to stray.
And so it came to be that he was in that chatroom, and someone messaged him. "lv-mrrd" came into his world for all of 15 minutes and his body was sticky with cum as a result. Still in a post-orgasmic haze, Mark wasn't thinking about anything, just relying on muscle-memory and auto-pilot to get him into the shower. Jo wouldn't be home until the day after tomorrow, but nonetheless, he didn't want to get into bed in this state and be forced to change the bedding.
Mark shuffled through the bedroom door and turned left into the en-suite. Turning on the light, he got a proper look at himself for the first time. There were obvious splatters of cum, drying and beginning to encrust, on his chin and chest. His cock, balls, and thighs looked like something out of one of pornos he might have watched; his sticky, patchy, cock head was red, and swollen. He felt a twitch in his groin.
Lifting his left hand to turn the shower on, he twisted the control and then stopped, staring at his hand. It was covered in cum. The words flew into his mind unbidden:
lv-mrrd: omg your wedding ring that's so fuckin hot
These were the words his mystery cheatee had typed and sent after he'd sent her a photo of the mess he'd made at her request. She noticed immediately that his wedding ring was in shot, and this clearly had turned her on even more.
Mark stepped into the cubicle and pulled the glass door closed behind him. He'd set the shower to its strongest setting; he needed to feel the water heavy on his skin, to blast away with water all the cum that he had blasted away just moments ago. He bowed his head slightly and felt the hot water bathing his head, neck, and shoulders. He placed his left hand on the glass wall in front of him and stared at it, as the water mixed with the cum there, the clean mixing with the dirty and creating a very pale milky run off.
With a groan, Mark realised that his cock, which had remained semi-hard throughout, was regaining its full potency, and quickly. He looked down and saw more of the messy water cascading down his toned chest and abs, meeting the biggest mess in his crotch. His knob flexed involuntarily.
Not for a moment had Mark's brain done anything since he had cum, and it didn't start now. He started to rub his cock with his right hand. He'd usually use his left as he is left-handed, but his gaze was transfixed on his wedding ring. He couldn't apply any critical thinking because the blood hadn't yet returned to his head, and that return was being further delayed now as instead, it rushed to further engorge his married pole. He tugged his balls, rolled them between his fingers, then pulled his foreskin all the way back. He didn't need the lubricant - the shower was still running - but he spat on his hand and rubbed it into his pulsating manhood anyway. Already, 60 seconds in, his breathing was quickening, his heart racing.