Giving Yourself

You hesitate in the hall, your hand hovering in front of the door, torn between knocking and running like hell in the other direction. You'd been so sure you could do this, thought for certain that your desire would win out over your nerves. But now, standing here in the hall outside their apartment door, those nerves are kicking desire's ass.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, focusing in on reminding yourself that you want this. More than that, you need this. Every night for the last week, this has been all you've thought about. Even now, with those nerves fluttering through your stomach, your cock is already hard, painfully so, at the thought of it. In the end, it's a simple decision.

If you do this, you might regret it. If you don't, you know you will.

You force yourself to knock, and then utter a silent prayer. Whether you're praying he'll answer or that he won't, you're not quite sure.

The door swings open in the middle of your little prayer and there he is, right in front of you and oh, fuck, this is either the best idea you've ever had or the absolute worst. He seems surprised to see you, but only just a bit. He was expecting you, after all, but you're three hours early. You swear you spot his eyes flicking to the noticeable bulge between your legs, but then he's staring at you again and maybe it was just your imagination.

"She's not here," he says, but it doesn't sound as much like a dismissal as it does a fact. "Weren't you supposed to come over about five?"

You nod and Offer up a non-committal lie about finishing work early and not wanting to drive all the way home and then back into the city... blah, blah, blah.

You suppose it's better than just blurting out that you're not here for her and dropping to your knees in the doorway. But damn does that sound like a fuckload more fun.

He seems to buy your bullshit it - or maybe he just doesn't care - but either way, he steps aside to let you in. You can't help noticing the way he tenses as you brush past him. It's not much of a shock really, given that the last time he saw you, he was cumming all over your face.

That hadn't been the plan. Not yours and definitely not his. They'd been suffering in silence for a while, a chronic case of dead bedroom and it had taken her weeks but she'd finally convinced him, gotten him on board with her plan to liven things back up - a little CPR for their marriage that was, really, already DOA - worn him down until he gave in and agreed to you, him, and her.

That was her fantasy, had been since college, since she'd finally had to give you up when he went and put a ring on it. OK, maybe she hadn't totally given you up, not until the last minute, not until she sucked your cock one last time and said her "I do's" with the taste of your cum still fresh in her mouth, but after that day, she was his and his alone. At least until he'd finally caved.

But he hadn't given in that easy. He'd had rules. No way he was going to let some former boyfriend fuck his wife. Not even with him there. She could suck your cock and you could bury your face between her legs, licking her cunt and her asshole - she loved that and he wouldn't ever - but that was it. No more, no less, and the moment he said it was done, it was done.

And so, that was how you'd ended up right here, one week ago, underneath her. Your tongue circling her clit, her mouth swallowing your cock whole, while he was buried inside her, his balls slapping against her, as he fucked hard and fast. You thought then - and now - that he was showing off, that he was flexing his manhood just a bit, reminding you both that she was his.

The feel of her throat wrapped around your cock and her finger pressing against your ass was enough to make ownership totally unimportant.

But then he pulled out just a little too far. And your tongue had slipped through her slick lips just a little too much and, suddenly, it was pressed against the head of his cock, still wet with her and no, you hadn't meant to open your mouth, but you did.

It just sort of happened.

And when you just sort of sucked his tip between your lips and your tongue just sort of lashed against his piss hole, well...

He exploded.

The first shot went down your throat before you realized what was happening. If you had, maybe you wouldn't have let him slip free and the rest of his load - bigger than any you'd ever seen or shot - wouldn't have gone everywhere, across your cheeks and chin, little streams of it sliding into your mouth, dripping onto your tongue.

It had all just sort of happened.

And now you wanted it to happen again.

You were supposed to be here at five, for another night of the three of you. She'd called you earlier in the week, excited because he'd agreed to go farther, to let you fuck her, but as she said, "only in my ass, my pussy is his." That didn't matter much to either of you. She was convinced that by the end of the night, she'd have you both inside her, filling her.

And you weren't really thinking of her.

So you'd cooked up this plan. You'd read every dirty story you could find about first times, lurked in every chat room and forum about "straight" men who wanted to suck cock. And then you'd gone out and bought yourself a pair of black stockings, the kind she said he couldn't resist. Your hands shook as you'd shaved your legs and you'd almost cum the first time you slipped them on, imagining him slipping them off. You spent hours prepping what you were going to do, what you would say. The seduction was set.

Now all that was left was to see if it worked.

You excuse yourself to their bathroom, peering quickly around the corner to make sure he returned to the kitchen, to the sink full of dishes he'd been washing. If he was bothered by your early appearance, he didn't seem to show it and you took that as a good sign. Closing and locking the door, you quickly shuck your shirt and jeans and tug the stockings out of your bag. As you slide the stockings up each leg, you remember that this isn't the first time for this sort of thing. You did it once or twice back in college, when you let her dress you up, a pair of tight stockings, sometimes even a skirt and you'd excused it all because every time ended the same way. With her between your legs and your cock between her lips , her hands sliding up and down your legs and you cumming so hard you could barely stand.

You're hoping this time will go sort of the same. Except you'll be the one on your knees.

At least at first.

You take one last deep breath and open the door. He's still at the sink, his back to you. That'll make this easier. He won't see you coming.

It's three long strides across the kitchen - it's all happening so much faster than you thought - and then you're behind him. You move quickly, before you lose your nerve, and wrap your arms around him, pressing yourself, naked save for those stockings, against his back. He tenses in your arms, but doesn't shout or pull away. That's another good sign you think. You hope.

"Hear me out," you say. "Just listen. I want this," you whisper, resisting the urge to grab his cock to show him exactly what this you mean. "And I think you do too."

He doesn't argue and you press your luck, grinding your cock against his jean covered ass as you slip both hands beneath his tee.

"I want you," you murmur. "I want your cock. In my mouth." You pause, both for dramatic effect and to work up that last bit of nerve. "In my ass."

With one hand, you find his nipple. Tweak it, pinch it. That's the way she says he likes it. Your other hand slips from beneath the shirt and finds his wrist, slowly tugging his hand behind his back, grateful that he doesn't resist until you place it atop your hard cock.

"I want you to take me," you say, almost moaning at the feel of him, his fingers warm and strong on your cock. "I want you to use me, I want you to do anything you want to me. But if you don't want this, tell me now. I'll go change," you say. "And then I'll sit on the couch and wait for her and when she comes home we can fuck her together and pretend this never happened."

You pause, waiting for some kind of reaction. At first, he doesn't move, and you're sure you misread things, sure you just made an ass of yourself. Butthen... he turns. His hand slips from your cock as he comes to face you and - for just a moment - you're afraid.

His hand around your shaft, fingers closing tight, tugging ever so lightly, drawing a moan from you that you hardly even recognize, convinces you that there's nothing to be afraid of.

He doesn't look at you, but he doesn't have to. You know what he wants. It's what you want and though it pains you to lose contact with his hand, you drop to your knees in front of him, your hands finding the buckle of his belt. He does look at you then, eyes widening as he takes in the sight of you, on your stocking clad knees on his kitchen floor, frantically trying to free his cock.

You've never been so desperate in all your life. You're pretty sure you could be outside, on the street corner, with the entire neighborhood watching and even that wouldn't be enough to keep you from his cock.

He puts his hands over yours and for a moment you're afraid he's changed his mind. But then you realize, he's just trying to help. He undoes the belt, pops the button and slides the zipper down on his jeans.

The rest, he leaves for you.

Your hands shake, just a bit, as you pull his jeans and boxers down and it's all you can do not to take him in your mouth right then and there. But it's not enough. You want full access, so - with just a little bit of encouragement from you - he steps out of them, and you shove them aside. You stare at his cock. Eight inches and as thick around as your wrist, it's already hard. There's a momentary pang of disappointment, as you'd hoped he'd be soft so you could feel him swell and grow in your mouth, but there'll be time for that later.

Right now, hard is just fine.

You wrap your right hand around him and it's his turn to moan. Your cock twitches at the feel of him, hot and hard in your hand, and you stroke him, slowly, getting the feel for him, getting used to another man's cock. Holding him steady, you gently lap your tongue against his tip and he bucks in your hand. You extend your tongue, running it slowly down the length of him, tasting every inch of engorged flesh. You reach his balls and inhale deeply, even the smell of him exciting you. You lick each in turn, rolling your tongue across them, sucking just the tiniest bit of his sac into your mouth.

It's better than you imagined. Your cock is swollen between your legs but you don't dare reach down and touch it. Not yet. No, you want this to last.

Urging his legs apart, you slide beneath him, peppering tiny kisses between his balls and his ass. You linger at his hole, hands coming up to spread his cheeks, unable to stop yourself from taking a quick taste, being rewarded by an almost hissed 'fuck' from his lips as you lash his ass.

You imagine entire afternoons on your knees, feasting on his ass, existing for nothing but giving him pleasure.

Sliding back out, you take hold of his cock once more and slowly pop the first few inches into your mouth. You've practiced for hours on end with a dildo and you think - hope - you'll be able to take all eight inches of him but, for now, you suck gently, letting your tongue work every inch of his head. He's oozing precum now, you can feel it running across your tongue and down your throat. You realize that you could, quite contentedly, stay right here, making slow love to his cock, for as long as he'd have you.

But there will be time for that later as well. Right now, there's something you need more.

You pull your mouth from his cock with an audible pop and take his hands in yours. He looks down at you, confused. "I told you," you say. "I want you to use me."

You never break eye contact as you guide his hands to your head. "Fuck me," you plead. "Fuck my mouth. Just like a little later, you're going to fuck my ass."

He moans again, and you guess you said the right thing because his hands tighten their grip on your head and guide it back his cock. You open wide, letting him fuck himself in and out of your mouth. He goes deeper with every stroke, surprised at just how much cock you can take. You sense him holding back, so you bring your hands to his ass, gripping his cheeks and pulling him in. You're telling him that his is what you wanted. This is what you spent every night this week thinking of as you stroked yourself to one orgasm after another.

You slide one hand from his ass and down between his legs, finding his sensitive asshole. You rub your middle finger against it, massaging, sliding just the tip inside and you're jealous, sad that your ass feels empty and you know you're going to have to do something about that. But when your finger slips deeper, burying itself knuckle deep inside him, that does it.

His cock throbs in your mouth and his breathing goes shallow as presses your head down, burying six inches of hot, twitching, delicious cock in your mouth. He's cumming and you hear a whimpering moan and realize it's coming from you as you greedily swallow every drop. Your own cock erupts, without so much as a single touch, spilling your seed all over the kitchen floor and you have a sudden vision of him fucking you from behind as you lick and slurp your own cum from the floor.

Soon - too soon - he's spent. His cock drops from your lips and he leans against the sink. You sit with your eyes closed, savoring the taste of him on your lips and tongue, before leaning forward and taking him back into your mouth, gently licking him clean, savoring the taste and the feel of him, proud of your work. In a moment, you'll take him by the cock and lead him to the living room, where you fully intend for him to fuck you in every position you can imagine. In a moment, you'll show him just how much of a cum slut you really are, and just how far you'll let him use you. By the time she comes home, you'll have an ass full of his cum, just waiting for her. You'll let her lick you clean. But not him.

No. That cock isn't hers anymore.

It's yours. And you're never giving it up.