The Liar and the Cucquean

This story is about a group of reprehensible men (and the women who have no choice but to put up with them). These men get off on adultery, infidelity, and cheating; they lie and enjoy doing so. They are hedonistic sadists who feel no guilt--only pleasure. They risk their relationships in the name of sex because the benefits outweigh the costs for them.

If you're a person who enjoys male/male sex, if you want stories about cheating, emotional sadism, and selfish characters, if you enjoy cuckqueaning, this work of fiction is for you.

Part 1 -- Chapter 1 -- Best Buds

"Have you ever watched any gay porn?" Tom's question was awkward, and he knew it. It abruptly interrupted the game. A silence settled over the room before Eric responded.

"Heh," Eric muttered and gulped his beer. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I, uh, you know...I've been...." Tom stammered, shifting his seat on the couch. He could not finish the thought and took a sip of his beer.

"Yeah, man. Yeah, I have," Eric said, staring absentmindedly at the TV.

"It's hot, right? I mean, I think it's hot now and then," Tom said, his eyes locked on football.

"Fuck yeah, dude," Eric said. He opened his body so that he angled towards Tom on the couch.

Tom laughed nervously, relieved. "Oh, thank god," he said, throwing his head back. "I thought I was the only one."

Eric chuckled. "No, man. I don't mean to be crude or, you know, TMI," Eric began, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, "But watching dudes fuck a guy whose cock is bobbing up and down is kind of hot."

"Yes! I agree," Tom exclaimed. Tom could confide in his best friend, a fellow heterosexual, without judgment of his indiscretions. "There's something about watching guys please each other that feels close to home. Like, I know how it feels for each of them."

"Not to mention it's taboo as fuck. Because we're straight," Eric said with a smirk.

"Right," Tom chuckled. He thinks he's straight. There might be some doubt there--no reason to tell Eric right now.

"You ever been with a guy?" Eric said, taking a sip of his beer and turning back to the TV. Straight men are best at being vulnerable when looking at the same object--not at each other.

"No. No, I haven't. I never did anything or wanted to when I was younger. And, you know, I'm married now. I guess that ship has sailed," Tom told the television, realizing he had given away his desire to try sex with a man. Fuck. "You know, if I ever wanted to try, that is." Nice save, Tom.

"Yeah, that makes sense."

They sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

"Have...you?" Tom hesitated.

"Yeah," Eric said bluntly, eyes on the game.

"Wait, what? Have you been with a guy before? When you were younger?"

"No, man." Eric finished his beer before saying, "Like, for the last two years."

"Wait, what?!"

"Yeah, dude." Eric stood up with his empty bottle. "Another stout?"

"Um, yeah, sure," Tom said, handing his empty bottle to Eric. Tom, stunned at Eric's emotionless admission, had so many questions.

Not wanting to, Tom imagined Eric with a man. He pictured Eric, a tall black man with a linemen's build, getting sucked off by some faceless, imaginary man. Eric's imagined cock was thick, long, cut, and picturesque. On hot summer days, Tom had seen Eric's broad shoulders, pecs, sturdy, muscular arms, and beer belly--smooth and hairless. Tom pictured a white guy, ass cheeks cradled in each hand while getting face-fucked--a slobbering mess.

Tom heard Eric's footsteps. His cock had grown while daydreaming. He was with a fellow straight man (presumably). He could adjust without raising suspicion, as men are wont to do. But Tom's engorged seven inches were challenging to hide.

"Here you go, bro." Eric handed the beer to Tom and noticed the bulge in Tom's pants. Ah, that's why he adjusted himself. "You might need this to cool off, eh?" Eric teased and set the beer right on his buddy's cock.

Tom tittered and fidgeted, relieved to have the cold bottle on his cock.

"For the last two years, I've been fucking a guy. He sucks my cock, and I suck his. We eat each other's asses. He fingers me, and I fuck him. I always cum inside him. He always begs for it," Eric stated, returning to the couch. His lips quivered, hiding a grin. "And before you ask: no, Lisa does not know. And she won't ever know. I focus on keeping her happy so that she'll never wonder. She gets what she wants, and I get to cum in a hole without fear of getting someone pregnant."

"Holy fuck." Tom's eyes grew twice in size, and his eyebrows reached for his hairline. "I can't tell if I should be angry for Lisa or insanely jealous."

"Don't be angry, man. Lisa and I are better than we've ever been. She gets more attention from me than she ever has. I provide for her better than most men, and I get five holes at my disposal, willing to do whatever I want them to."

"Five holes?" Tom asked.

"Two asses. Two mouths. One pussy." Eric, suddenly animated, said, "Wait, Myra doesn't give up her ass, does she?"

"My wife's a bit lame." Tom shifted in his seat. His thumb ran over the beer bottle label.

"So, who do you think is more satisfied between us?" Eric raised his eyebrows and the beer bottle in a patronizing salutary gesture.

It was hard to argue with that point. Tom was sure he'd be a happier man with more holes at his whim. "Aren't you worried the guy will, I don't know, blackmail you?"

"Nah. Josh is married too."

"Wait. What the fuck?!" Tom sat on the edge of his seat, erection forgotten. "Josh-Josh? As in, our wives' best friend?"

Tom thought long and very hard about Josh naked. The man of Colombian immigrants, Josh had jet black hair always in a perfect messy bun. His smooth skin was like golden honey. Below his green eyes were blanched teeth. Tom wondered if Josh was hairless whenever he saw that beautiful, firm bubble butt. Tom had never felt less straight than right now.

"Man," Eric recalled, his eyes dazed, "That ass. Smooth. Fat. It opens easy."

Tom's erection wasn't going anywhere. The image in his mind had been confirmed accurate. He noticed Eric's pants had joined the party.

"But his husband," Tom wondered aloud.

Eric, adjusting his denim-covered bulge, probed. "Have you never cheated on Myra?"

"Never," Tom said without a beat. "I mean, I've been tempted."

"Can I explain something to you?"

Tom nodded cautiously.

"Cheating," Eric began, taking a deep breath, "Is fucking amazing."

Tom's eye twitched, unsure of Eric's sentiment. Eric was hesitant to share. Rightly so. Cheating was immoral, risky, and taboo. Not to mention, Eric is ostensibly straight. Cheating on your wife with a woman is one thing, but a man? That raises the eyebrows of clucking, gossip-prowling neighbors.

"Okay," Eric began. "There's nothing more empowering than cheating. It's like this secret life. The person you're in love with has no idea about it. She's oblivious, and knowing that others find you attractive feels good. Lisa doesn't know she doesn't own me, and it's a turn-on."

"But why a guy?" Tom subconsciously looked for an excuse to explore.

"Cheating is exciting, and doing it with a guy is more awesome." Eric openly rubbed his cock through his pants. "The secret is more intense. I come home with a cum and ass-covered cock, lie to my wife and fuck her senseless. She has no clue, dude. I have complete control of the relationship now."

Tom's thoughts stumbled over each other. He imagined Eric fucking Lisa after fucking Josh. Naughty, a word he never used, was the first to come to mind. Tom wondered if he would feel the same way. If he cheated on Myra, would he boast the same as Eric?

"You don't feel guilty?" asked Tom.

"Never, dude. Even if she found out, she would never leave. She's too in love with me--and needs my money. Would you leave me knowing the money I make with free reign to spend?"

"No, I guess I wouldn't."

"And I bet Myra wouldn't either." Eric stroked the impressive length of his sheathed dick.

Tom, chest tight, sensed his shorts tent. He'd known Eric for the better part of a decade. They'd seen each other in the gym locker room and sauna, but Tom had thought nothing of it. Now, it was all he could think about--the man's sheer size, imposing stature, and equally impressive bulge. He remembered Eric's bullish low-hangers.

Tom imagined Josh's green eyes looking up as he plowed into him missionary. Josh was Tom's wife's best friend. Off-limits. His wife would be heartbroken if she knew he'd fantasized about Josh. If he had sex with him, the heartbreak would be even worse. The thought of her crying turned him on. Her tears always had, but they were usually the product of PMS-ing. But if she knew Tom was with Josh, she'd be hysterical. She'd wonder why Tom did it. There is no "I was drunk" excuse in that situation. Tom would be making that choice consciously. And to have sex with a man? Myra would be confused. Question his sexuality, their compatibility, and whether or not he loves her.

And none of this should have turned him on. He should feel a compassionate heartbreak for Lisa. Instead, he felt excitement. His cock grew harder. It was evident that Josh didn't believe himself off-limits. He was fucking Lisa's husband. Lisa! His other best friend. Josh, Lisa, and Myra ran in the same circle. Violating that bond is cruel. Selfish. Josh not only had a best friend in Lisa, but he also had her husband. He held more power than her. She didn't even know it. Empowering, Tom thought.

Tom understood. He understood why Josh would betray Lisa like that. He understood why Eric would do the same to her. Everyone deserves to have secrets. Lisa must have some of her own, though probably not as sadistic as Eric's and her friend's.

Tom remembered a flirtation on a business trip in a hotel bar. Some innocent touching with a woman. A stranger. It went no further than a hand on an arm or knee. And when he went home, he hadn't felt any guilt. He made love to his wife and thought of the beautiful woman from just days before while he did. He felt attractive, like an Alpha, and his wife was lucky to have a man after whom others pined. And while his cock was wet with his wife's juices, he thought of the other woman when he came inside her.

Tom understood.

"You're right," Tom said. He wrapped his hand around the tent in his shorts.

"We're best buds," Eric said. "And I know a thing or two about being married to a woman and fooling around with men."

Tom's grip got tighter. Eric's stroking became more pronounced.

"You know," Eric said, "All this talk seems to have gotten us pretty worked up by the looks of it. If you want--" Eric stopped talking. He unbuttoned his jeans, his massive arms flexing, and reached down to his thigh. Eric gripped and pulled on the monster that felt stuck to his leg. He grimaced as his cock strained against the fabric and finally pulled out his dick. He unleashed his balls.

In full view, his cock stood up, a slight curve downward. Otherwise picturesque. It was silky brown with a lighter tip on which precum glistened. His smooth nuts hung over the open zipper, nearly touching the couch. Tom imagined the sound they made when Eric fucked pussy. Or ass.

Tom stared at it. He wasn't drooling, right? He'd never seen an erect cock in person before, never having been sexually adventurous. But his friend's cock, his straight friend, married to a woman for years, never having given off an iota of a gay vibe, was standing erect just feet away from him. And there was no woman in the room. Eric's wife was upstairs, oblivious to what had progressed under her feet.

"It's okay to like looking at cock," Eric said. His otherwise expressionless face now bore a wide grin. "You cool if we keep all of this between us, though?"

Tom nodded and gulped. Eric sat with his legs spread open, angled towards Tom. He let his cock stand free of his hands. He was showing off.

"You ever sucked cock before?" Eric said. He knew the answer, but this was part of the necessary preamble.

"No," Tom said. He stroked his cock in his shorts. The wet spot had doubled in size.

"It feels pretty good," Eric said. He shifted to the cushion just next to Tom. His cock swung and bobbed with his movements, and Tom couldn't take his eyes off it. "To suck and be sucked."

"It feels good to suck cock?" Tom asked, surprised. What straight guy said that?

"Yeah, it does," Eric said. He reached over Tom's waist and slipped his fingertips under his shorts. Eric felt his bristly pubic hair but didn't touch Tom's commando cock inches away. He let Tom get acclimated to their closeness.

"Do guys," Tom said, catching his breath, "do it better?"

Eric nodded. The door to the basement opened.

"Babe, dinner's gonna be ready in about ten minutes," Lisa said. Eric's wife knew not to come to the basement. It was Eric's private space. Only he and his friends were allowed down there. Eric knew she couldn't see the couch from the top of the stairs.

Before Lisa finished her sentence, Eric pulled Tom's cock out of his shorts in one fell swoop. He wrapped his lips around the head, sucking the precum.

"What'd you make?" he hollered. Eric's lips were on Tom's cock. Tom felt Eric's warm breath.

"Beef stroganoff," Lisa hollered back. Eric took half of Tom's length and promptly lifted off.

"Thanks, babe. Love you," Eric said, engulfing his friend's dick. Tom gasped.

"Love you too," Lisa said. She closed the door. Eric began to bob up and down. Tom thought his mouth felt soft, warm, tight. Eric was much better than Myra. Wetter.

Eric's rhythm had Tom clenching his fists. He threw his head back, lifted it again to watch Eric, and repeated. Seeing his best bud work hard to please him left Tom in absolute wonder. He never dreamed this would happen.

Tom imagined Lisa sighing over a stove. She would serve them in a few minutes, but not before these married straight men got each other off--Tom knew that it was the only way this encounter would end.

Eric gave Tom the blow job of his life--an effort to convert him. Show him the skills of a man and the joy of experiencing it in easy secrecy. No one would know about the taboo blow job that was happening. Not even the wife upstairs.

Eric suddenly pulled off. Tom, disappointed, said, "I was so close, man."

"I could tell. Look at that thing," Eric said. "Rock hard in my mouth."

Tom and Eric were inches from each other. Tom's mouth watered when he glanced at Eric's erection.

"Your turn, dude," Eric said, leaning back. He grabbed his cock and shook it. An invitation.

Tom hesitated. He never thought he would have the opportunity to put a dick in his mouth, though he'd dreamt of it many times. And what would his wife think? His wife. Myra. She'd be sad. And Tom's cock grew even more. Suppose Eric was right about cheating (and he was sure Eric was). In that case, this could be the experience of a lifetime.

And then it came over Tom: an irresistible, warm wave of desire. Desire to break the rules; a desire to live out a fantasy; the desire to suck dick.

Tom dove. Eric gasped. Tom had never had a gag reflex. He never heaved, whether tongue depressants at the doctor or a rogue stroke of a toothbrush.

He needed all of it. He felt his gut pull at him, driven by the forbidden. He handled all of Eric's length in his throat. It was so different from eating pussy. His tongue wasn't penetrating the depths of his wife--his throat was full of pole. He shuddered as he ran his tongue over Eric's dark skin.

Tom felt Eric's trimmed pubes poke his nose. Tom's smooth chin met the beginning of his friend's ball sac, equally smooth. The smell of musk, so different from his wife, inspired his subsequent bobbing. Turned on beyond his expectations, he produced an obscene amount of saliva. Tom's cock remained hard. He hared and loved that he might cum at any minute if he did, not daring to stroke himself.

"Fuck yeah," Eric whispered. He thought his friend's mouth nearly rivaled Josh's. Josh might be jealous to know that, the idea of which drove Eric wild. The faces of his unknowing wife (dumb as a box of rocks) and his oblivious gay fuck buddy appeared in his mind. The secrecy drove him to put both of his hands on the back of Tom's head.

"I'm taking control," Eric mumbled.

Tom felt Eric's firm, heavy hands. One placed strategically, gripping his man-bun, the other on the back of his head. Tom submitted to the facefucking, gagless reaming. He felt Eric's cock move in and out of the deepest reaches of his throat.

Eric forced Tom's throat to stroke his cock. Like a pussy over which he had total control. A few strokes, then a shove so Tom could take it all.

"Lick my balls," Eric said, Tom's nose buried in pelvis.

Tom's tongue couldn't reach Eric's balls as they hung too low. The smoothness of the scrotum graced his taste buds and would have to suffice. It felt terrific as Eric's cock hardened. Some more stroking. And then--

The basement door opened. "Dinner's ready, hun," Lisa called.

And with force, Eric pulled Tom's head back down.

"Be right up," Eric said, struggling not to make a telling noise. He came down his friend's throat.

Tom felt Eric's cock expand. It pulsed. One. Two. Three. Four five six. Seven. Tom tasted nothing. Eric's cock was too deep. But Tom knew semen was in his belly. Thrilling.

Tom pulled off quickly. They had to get dinner, so he gave his cock one stroke and came, curving up towards his belly. Cum landed at the top of his chest. He couldn't stop. His cum was clear, but it drenched his shirt. He later explained to Lisa that the stains were from a beer spill.

"Thanks," Eric said glibly. His typically stoic face returned. He took two fingers, lifted cum off Tom's shorts, and tasted. Both of them knew it was a gesture of appreciation. "You should probably do the same. No towel down here."

And Tom did. More DNA in his stomach. A man's DNA.

"Glad you came," Lisa said to Tom.

Tom, Eric, and Eric's wife sat at the dinner table. "Me too," said Eric. He didn't look at anyone. But Tom knew what he meant. Lisa was clueless, and Tom liked it.

"Who won?" asked Lisa.

"We did," said Eric, looking at Tom, then his wife. "By a mile. Looking forward to the next game."

"Me too," Tom said, smiling as he met Eric's blue eyes.

Tom spends quality time with his wife's best friend in Part 2.