Banana Bread

Thank you so much for reading! This story explores cuckolding, with themes of submission and humiliation. It's purely fictional and meant for mature readers. If these topics aren't your preference, please feel free to stop reading. Enjoy!

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Banana Bread

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It started with banana bread.

Well--no, actually, it started with a knock on the door. Maya and I were in the middle of bickering over who got the last slice of lasagna when I answered it and found Levi standing there, holding a foil-wrapped loaf and wearing that sheepish little grin of his.

"It didn't rise as much as I'd like it to, but it's edible. Possibly even pretty good," he said. "You guys want half?"

He'd moved in just before Christmas, to flat 2B, right next to ours. Despite being around our age, in his late twenties, Levi looked younger. There was something boyish about him, those wide, curious eyes, the soft jawline, and that mop of messy brown curls that always looked like he'd just towelled off after a shower. He had this kind of effortless prettiness to him, gentle but with some muscle underneath. He was easy to like, always upbeat and chatty. We just sort of clicked straight away, and he fit right in with mine and Maya's sense of humour.

It was nice to have some company seeing as we lived in a pretty quiet part of town. Despite being in an apartment building, we never really saw our other neighbours. Just Levi.

Maya liked him. But she liked people in general, she always had that warmth I didn't. Opening up to people and making friends always seemed to come easy for her. At some point, it had became normal. Shared grocery runs, dinners at ours, movie nights on his tiny sofa. Some weeks it felt like we'd all hang out together on more days than we didn't.

"Come in for a bit," I said. "We were just arguing about dinner. This might save us from a full-on domestic."

Maya laughed from the kitchen. "He's being dramatic. I said he could have it!"

Levi followed me inside, slipping off his shoes at the door without being asked. The place wasn't big, but Maya had made it feel like it was. Plants lined the windowsills, books stacked neatly along the bookshelves and a vanilla scented candle burning on the coffee table. Maya took the banana bread from him and gestured to the sofa where he plonked himself down.

She dropped onto the sofa beside him with the bread. "Barkeep?"

"Coming right up," I said, disappearing into the kitchen. I poured out three beers and carried them back to the living room, setting them down and taking a seat in the armchair opposite them both.

"I should just start paying rent here," said Levi. "You have way better stuff in the fridge and it's fun to hear you fight."

"Not a fight," Maya said, tearing off a chunk of banana bread. "Just a very emotionally-charged conversation about pasta."

"And whether leftovers belong to the cook or the one who didn't fuck it up in the microwave," I added.

"Still bitter," she said, mouth full.

She wore her favourite oversized jumper that she'd lived in all summer, and a pair of faded black jean shorts. Her dark hair was pulled back into a loose, messy braid that hung over one shoulder, a few strands curling gently around her neck and brushing past her collarbone.

We'd been together for a couple of years, enough time to feel like home without ever getting boring. I still caught myself thinking how lucky I was. Maya wasn't just gorgeous, though that was obvious, but there was something about the way we fit together that made everything else feel unimportant.

Levi smirked, clearly finding our dispute entertaining. I threw a cushion at him. "You're lucky we even let you in here."

"I just want to live vicariously through one happy, functioning couple. Instead I get you two bickering idiots."

"You love it," Maya said, not even bothering to defend us. She tore off another chunk of the banana bread and popped it into her mouth. "Mmphh, this is really good Levi."

Levi grinned, clearly proud. "Guess I might have a future in baking after all."

Maya tore off another bite, nodding. "You're definitely onto something. But maybe don't quit your day job just yet."

There was a short pause. Maya leaned into the cushions a bit more, resting her cheek against her hand. I took a slow sip of my beer and settled back. Maya was comfortable, all cozy in that oversized jumper, feet tucked beneath her on the couch, looking like she belonged right there.

"Okay, real question," Levi said suddenly. "If the three of us were stranded on a desert island, who's surviving the longest?"

Maya didn't hesitate. "Charlie's dead in the first few hours."

"Excuse me?" I said, folding my arms, offended. "Why?"

"You'd try to build a raft out of empty beer cans and drift off into the sunset, never to be seen again."

Levi nodded. "Drunk and sunburned. Honestly, a noble end."

"I hate both of you," I muttered, trying not to smile.

Maya offered me a bite of banana bread as a peace offering. She was right, it was good. I think I'd started seeing Levi like this dopey little brother, always cracking stupid jokes, acting like a kid. So it threw me off when he turned out to actually be good at stuff. Like, proper grown-up stuff. I'd just assumed he couldn't possibly be domestic or capable. He gives off big "needs supervision" energy. But somehow, he's full of surprises. It's irritating, really.

Levi raised his bottle in mock salute. "To Charlie. Brave. Foolish. Crispy." I rolled my eyes but leant over and clinked both of their bottles.

We kept talking for a while after that--mostly nonsense. Hypothetical survival scenarios, dumb would-you-rathers, Levi claiming he could absolutely make fire without matches, Maya daring him to try it in our oven. Eventually the beers ran dry, and Levi stood up and stretched with a groan, promising he'd head back to his place "before you guys decide to adopt me or something."

When the door finally shut behind him, the flat felt a little quieter.

I glanced over at Maya, still curled into the corner of the couch with the last of the banana bread in her hand. She tore it in two, offering me a half before getting up and dusting the crumbs into the tinfoil. We tidied up, packing away the still unclaimed leftover lasagna wedge before heading to bed.

--

Maya left for yoga in the morning while I slowly got around to tidying up the flat. I put on my favourite podcast and took my time, enjoying the quiet. This was pretty standard for most Saturdays. We'd do our things in the morning before meeting back up around lunch and spending the rest of the day together. We'd talked about maybe heading out in the evening, possibly checking out the new restaurant that had opened up in town. We'd been cooped up for a couple of days so it would be nice to get out.

By the time Maya got back, glowing with that post-yoga energy, I'd vacuumed, wiped surfaces, even put some laundry on. She clocked it immediately, giving me a nod of approval as she dropped her keys in the bowl by the door.

"Look at you," she said, peeling off her sweatshirt. "Domestic king."

I gave a mock bow. "Just trying to impress you."

She laughed and kicked off her shoes without a word, and I caught the slight wince as she stretched her feet. We threw together a quick salad for lunch, then sat down at the table, casually talking between bites.

"So, how was yoga?" I asked, watching her stretch her shoulders.

"Good," she said with a small smile. "Needed it. My body was begging for some movement after the week."

We ate slowly, chatting about nothing important, some silly news bits, a funny thing a friend said, plans for the weekend. Once lunch was done and the dishes cleared, Maya stretched her legs out under the table and looked over at me.

"My feet are absolutely wrecked," she said casually. "You know what that means."

I grinned back, already halfway ready to give in. "You're shameless."

She said nothing but the expression on her face told me that no wasn't an answer.

I rolled my eyes but didn't move my hand away. I settled Maya's foot in my lap, fingers tracing the familiar curves of her arch, feeling the soft warmth from her yoga session. Her toes flexed and curled, just enough to cause my gaze to linger and maybe betray how much I actually liked this. She caught my eye, that mischievous glint in hers.

"You're hopeless when it comes to my feet, you know."

I swallowed, heat rushing through me. "I... yeah. I know."

My fingers worked gently, but steady, kneading the soft skin beneath her toes. The scent of her lotion mixed with the faint musk of sweat. She sighed, satisfied--or maybe just amused. Time slipped away, minutes melting into each other, as I stayed completely absorbed in the feel of her perfect feet in my hands. Eventually I look up and catch her eyes. Without a word, she pulled her foot away and reached for my hand, palm up.

She led me silently down the hall, her fingers curled around mine until we made it to the bedroom. We undressed slowly despite the heat simmering beneath our skin. She slipped out of her top with effortless ease, revealing her soft, bare skin, while I stumbled out of my jeans. Once we were fully naked, she took a step back, eyes trailing over me, calm and deliberate. She liked seeing me like this--exposed, waiting, hers.

I felt the flush rise to my cheeks under her gaze--embarrassed, somehow, even after all this time. Standing there naked in front of her, with that smirk tugging at her lips and her eyes drinking me in like I was hers to devour. Which, of course, I was.

She didn't say anything. She turned, climbed onto the bed, and stretched out across the sheets like she owned the space, head tilted slightly, hair falling loose around her shoulders. One leg bent just enough to tease. Her expression was soft but unmistakable: come here.

I climbed onto the bed, crawling over her slowly, my eyes locked on hers. Her skin was warm against mine, thighs brushing, chests close but not quite touching. For a moment we just looked at each other, before our lips finally met. Soft at first, feeling the curve of her lips, the familiar slide of her mouth against mine. She kissed me back with lazy confidence, her hands skimming my sides, fingers tracing the outline of my ribs.

Just as I started to deepen it, she pulled back slightly and let her fingers drift up to my hair.

"Down," she murmured, not a question, but an order. Her palm pressed gently at the back of my head, pushing me lower. And I went, willingly.

I slowly inched my way down the bed, kissing as I went--her ribs, her belly, the subtle dip of her hip. Feeling her body tighten beneath me, one hand tangled in my hair, the other gripping the sheet as I finally reach her pussy, already soaked in anticipation. I get to work, immediately noticing her breathing falter as my tongue lightly flicks at her clit. Her body slowly surrendering as I pleased her. Letting her lead, holding me where she wanted me as I let her use me the way she wanted. It thrilled me how shameless she was about it, how unbothered by the control she took.

Things in the bedroom had just... settled into place between us. I'd never thought much about being dominant or submissive before Maya, but with her, it wasn't something we had to talk through or plan. It just happened. She was always confident, especially when it came to sex. She knew exactly what she wanted and had no hesitation in asking for it or taking it. I liked that. Liked giving in to her, being told what to do. It became a rhythm between us: her pushing, teasing, testing how far I'd go, and me, more than willing to follow her lead. The foot thing was just one of those moments. I didn't know I had a thing for feet until Maya told me I did. And, honestly, she was right.

For her, it was all a game. She had this endless creativity when it came to pushing me, testing how far she could take that control. I didn't have the same imagination. On my own, I'd probably be painfully vanilla. But somehow, whatever she tried, I ended up loving. It was like she knew exactly what I wanted in bed, even before I did.

I could feel my cock getting hard as I got comfortable in the space between her thighs. My own pleasure was an afterthought as I focussed on making her feel good. I could still feel her guiding hand on the back of my head, her grip tightening when I hit the right spots. Time blurred. The only constants were the heat between us, the rhythm of breath, the way her thighs tightened and her back arched, as I could feel her getting close.

She was always the one in control. But right then, she'd handed me a task and I wasn't about to let her catch her breath until I got what I came for. What I knew she needed.I gripped her waist and pulled her in, burying myself deeper. Her thighs started to tense around me, her body trembling in quiet waves until finally, a low, broken moan slipped out as she came hard.

My body relaxed, satisfied in the stillness that followed when she finally collapsed back into the pillows with a quiet, satisfied laugh.

I crawled back up beside her, my heart thudding, as she turned to face me.

"Good boy," she murmured.

I flushed, but didn't look away. Her leg slid over mine and her foot came to rest just over my thigh.

She grinned lazily, shifting slightly so her heel pressed down against my hard cock causing me to gasp. "Now," she said, dragging her foot slowly across my length, "I think it's only fair I return the favour."

I swallowed, the friction of her sole against me already enough to make my breath hitch. I didn't say anything. Maya knew exactly what that look meant. I'd always been pretty sensitive, it didn't take much to make me cum, never mind when she used her feet.

Her toes curled, teasing, trailing lower, playful but firm. "God, you're easy," she murmured, more amused than anything as precum began to form at the tip of my cock. I opened my mouth to protest, to push back, but every nerve ending was already hers. The words catch in my throat. She propped herself up on one elbow, her foot tracing a deliberate path, coaxing reactions out of me with ease, watching every shift in my face.

I let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut for a second. When I opened my eyes again, she was watching me--head tilted, one foot still expertly tormenting me, the other tucked under her. "You should see yourself," she said. "Red-faced and twitching like it's your first time. And all because I touched you with my foot. My foot, Charlie. That's all it takes."

I groaned, half-laughing through the humiliation, half-losing my mind. She really knew how to press all my buttons. "You're evil."

She grinned. "I'm attentive." Not breaking eye contact. "You're already close, aren't you?"

All I could manage was a breathless nod. She applied more pressure with her foot, smiling cruelly. "I want you to cum all over my pretty feet" she continued, repositioning herself to bring her other foot up against my cock, trapping it between them. Her grip was inescapable now. Any hopes I had of holding back were gone as she began to rhythmically slide them up and down, her toes effortlessly bringing me to the edge.

She looked amused by my struggle, seeing just how helpless I was. How little control I really had. I could barely meet her eyes, my whole body taut with the effort of holding back. The panic in my chest made it worse, and she could see it. She loved seeing it.

My hips bucked beneath her touch as I felt myself lose control, letting out a low moan as I climaxed. I watched as my cock erupted, thick jets of cum covering her feet, dripping between her toes and down onto the bedsheet as I grasped for breath. "Fuck!"

I lay back, chest rising and falling, trying to get my breath under control. The rush still tingled through my limbs, half bliss, half embarrassment. Maya sat beside me, calm as ever, smoothing her hair back like nothing had just happened.

She glanced down at her foot, then at me, smirking. "You really have issues," she said, but her voice was soft and full of love. I opened my mouth to reply, some weak defence, maybe. But all that came out was a laugh. She leaned in and kissed me, her hand curling lightly around the side of my face like I was hers. Because I was. We lay there for a while, it felt like hours but must have only been a couple of minutes.

"I need a shower," she eventually murmured, slipping out of the bed.

I watched her cross the room, confident and completely at ease in her body. She disappeared into the en suite and left the door ajar as steam began to billow around the frame. I stayed put for a little while longer, just trying to catch my breath and come back down from the high. Eventually, I dragged myself up and pulled on some clean clothes, limbs heavy and brain still half-fogged.

Maya emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped loosely around her, drying her hair with another. Her skin was still pink from the heat, and she looked relaxed, freshly reset.

"Oh," she said, glancing at her phone. "Forgot to tell you, I bumped into Levi earlier. On the way back from yoga."

I looked up. "Yeah?"

"He was heading out to get groceries. Said he's cooking tonight and asked if we wanted to come round."

I smirked. "We've survived his cooking before."

"Exactly," she said, stepping into her underwear and rifling through the drawer for jeans. "I told him I'd check with you, I know we were thinking of going out tonight."

I nodded, already reaching for my shoes. "Yeah, sounds good. We can do that restaurant next weekend instead."

"Cool. I'll let him know."

The rest of the afternoon slipped by. Maya and I kicked back on the sofa, half-watching whilst scrolling on our phones. Some show neither of us was really paying attention to. She stretched out, her head resting on my shoulder, and I absently ran my fingers through her hair. Before we knew it, we were starting to get hungry, and it was time to head over.

Levi opened the door just as we raised our hands to knock, like he'd been waiting behind it. He grinned. "Right on time."

He looked good. Relaxed, barefoot, in a loose black T-shirt and faded grey jeans that sat low on his hips. His hair was still a bit damp, like he'd just stepped out of the shower, and he smelled faintly of something smoky and warm. Behind him, his flat was lit in this soft, cosy glow from a few mismatched lamps, music playing quietly from a speaker in the corner. The whole place smelled like garlic, herbs, and roasted veg.

"Come in, come in," he said, stepping back with a sweeping gesture.

Maya brushed past him with a smile. "Wow, it actually smells good in here."

I stepped inside, taking in the familiar layout. Levi's place was smaller than ours, a one-bed mirror of our own flat. A couple of chairs circled a table, and his small sofa hugging the far wall, already buried under a mess of throw blankets. It made me wonder how this goofy kid, who we all half-jokingly call the "immature one,"managed to have his shit together better than I did sometimes. How was he so effortlessly good at this?

He handed us both a cool glass of lemonade and gestured for us to sit. We dropped into the cushions, Maya curling her legs up beside her, me with one arm over the back of the couch behind her. Levi grabbed the armchair, pulling it close enough to talk without needing to raise his voice.

"So," he said, taking a long sip, "I bumped into Chloe earlier today."

Maya raised her eyebrows. "The Chloe?"

Levi nodded, not quite sheepish. "Yep. Didn't go well. We're officially on the 'polite head nod in public' stage."

"Oof," I said. "Brutal."

He shrugged. "Eh. Wasn't anything serious. Three dates, a few nice evenings, some extremely average Thai food. I think she's back with her ex or her cat or something."