Full of Him Still Yours

"You really want to know everything?"

I nodded. My hand rested on her thigh, fingers tracing small, lazy circles just beneath the hem of her shorts. I kept my eyes on hers.

"Start from the beginning. From when you saw him."

Sophia took a breath, the kind that filled her chest and slowed her voice.

"We met on the patio. Early evening. That light that makes everything look soft, golden. I wore that blue dress. The one with the slit."

"You wore that dress?"

She nodded, lips pressing together like she already knew where my head was going.

"I didn't think it would matter. I wasn't planning anything. It's just the one I always feel confident in. I didn't even wear perfume. Just that oil you like, the one on my neck."

"Did he say anything about how you looked?"

"He didn't have to. He stood up when I arrived. Looked me over the way men do when they want to be respectful, but their eyes pause too long. Hips. Chest. It wasn't subtle."

"You liked it."

Sophia looked down once, then back at me. "I liked being seen like that. I liked knowing he saw me."

"What did you two talk about?"

"The trip. Flights. Beaches. He asked if I'd ever been to the Caribbean. If I liked rum. I told him I liked warm water and soft beds. He smiled and said the right place could make you forget your own name."

My jaw tensed. My hand paused on her leg.

"He was flirting."

"A little. It was subtle. But yes, it was there."

"Did you flirt back?"

She hesitated. That was my answer.

"I smiled too much. Laughed too easily. Leaned in when I didn't have to."

"Did you touch him?"

"Our hands brushed when he passed the wine list. I didn't move mine."

I moved my hand higher, beneath the shorts now, just brushing the edge of her panties. I could feel her warmth.

"When did it shift?"

"After the second glass of wine. I was warm. Loose. The sun had gone down and the candle on the table was flickering. I realized I didn't want to go home yet."

"Did he ask you to stay?"

"No. I stood up to leave. He offered to walk me to my car."

"Did you know you were going to kiss him?"

She opened her mouth to say no, then closed it. When she finally answered, her voice was quieter.

"I didn't know. But I didn't stop it."

"Tell me."

"I opened the driver door. He said goodnight. I turned and he was right there. Close. He touched my waist. I didn't step back. He kissed me."

"Did you kiss him back?"

"Hard. Desperate. Like I'd been holding my breath since the wine came."

I shifted. My cock was swelling hard against my zipper. My fingers pressed into the soaked fabric between her legs.

"Where were his hands?"

"One on the small of my back. The other slid under my dress. Grabbed my thigh. Moved up fast. I let him."

"Did he touch you?"

"Yes."

"Through your panties?"

"No. By the time his hand got there, I'd already shifted my stance. Just enough to open. His fingers slid over my clit. Bare. I was soaked."

I closed my eyes, pressing my fingers harder against her.

"Did you touch him?"

"I reached for his cock. I could feel it through his pants. Thick. I unzipped him."

"You pulled it out?"

"I wanted to see it. Feel it. I needed to know if I was imagining it."

"And?"

"He was huge. Thick like I've never seen. I said, 'God, you're so big.' He just smiled."

"Did he try to fuck you right there?"

"Yes. I pulled my panties aside. He pressed the head against me. Rubbed it along my pussy, slow."

"Did you let him in?"

"Just the tip. Then a little more. But we were standing. I could barely take him."

"Did you want him inside?"

"More than anything. But it wasn't working. Not there."

"So what did he do?"

"He whispered, 'Follow me home.' I almost said yes."

"But you didn't."

"No. I opened my door. Tried to breathe. But he stopped me."

"Stopped you how?"

"He took my hand. Closed the driver's door. Opened the back. Guided me into the backseat."

"And you let him."

"Yes."

I slid my fingers between her lips. She gasped.

"Then tell me what happened in the backseat."

⸻

CHAPTER 3: The Backseat

"You let him guide you into the backseat?"

Sophia nodded. Her lips parted a little when I moved my hand farther up her thigh.

"I didn't say anything. Just let him open the door and lead me in like it was already decided."

"Was it?"

"I think so. Maybe the moment I kissed him."

"What did it feel like in there?"

"Wrong. Familiar. I mean, it smelled like us. Like our life. Crumbs from the kids on the seat. One of Luca's notebooks on the floor. And your gray hoodie was balled up beside me. You left it there the night before."

"And you stayed anyway."

"I wanted to feel like someone else. Not a mom. Not a wife. Just someone who could be taken and not have to explain it."

"Tell me what happened next."

"He pushed my knees apart. Pulled my dress up to my waist. I was already dripping. He grabbed my panties and yanked them down. I lifted my hips without thinking."

"What did he say?"

"He looked down at me and said, 'Fuck, you're already leaking.' He wasn't wrong. I could feel it between my legs before he even touched me."

"His cock?"

"He undid his belt. Opened his pants. His cock came out hard, swollen, red at the tip. I gasped. It looked... intense. Like it was going to ruin me."

"Did you touch it?"

"Yes. I wrapped my hand around it and felt it throb. It was heavy. Hot. I smeared the precum with my thumb and slid it between my legs."

"And then?"

"He didn't wait. He pushed in. Just the head. But it was thick. I cried out. My body was fighting it but I didn't want to stop. I told him to keep going."

"Did he?"

"He started to fuck me. Rough. The seat rocked. The car windows fogged. I was holding on to anything I could."

"What were you holding?"

"Your hoodie."

I froze.

"I grabbed it without thinking. Bit into it. Stuffed it in my mouth to muffle my moans while he fucked me. I could smell you on it. The cologne you wear. Your skin. And him. His sweat. His breath. The two of you mixed in my head. My pussy clenched so tight I swear I opened up even more."

"You were biting my clothes while he was fucking you?"

"Yes. That's when it snapped. The shame. The smell. The sound of skin slapping. My mouth full of you while his cock stretched me. I came so hard my whole body shook. I didn't care if anyone saw. I didn't care if anyone heard."

"Did he say anything?"

"He said I was gripping him like a vice. That he didn't want to stop. And I told him not to. I didn't want him to either."

"How deep did he go?"

"All the way. Eventually. I stopped resisting. My body just gave in. He filled me completely."

"Did he come?"

"Yes."

"Inside?"

"Yes."

"You let him?"

"I needed it."

"How did it feel?"

"He groaned. Bit down on my shoulder. And I felt it. Hot, thick, pushing deep and leaking out before he even pulled out. It soaked my thighs. I didn't wipe it."

"What did you do after?"

"I laid there. Still. My dress up. My legs open. Your hoodie still in my hand. And I knew."

"Knew what?"

"That there was no going back."

"What did you do next?"

Sophia's legs shifted under my hand. I could feel how wet she still was.

"I pulled my dress down. Slid my panties back on, even though they were soaked through. I felt him leaking out of me as I sat up."

"You didn't clean up?"

She shook her head.

"No. I wanted to stay messy. I wanted to feel it. His cum on my thighs. In my panties. Still dripping out of me. I didn't want to pretend it hadn't happened."

"Did you say anything to him?"

"Not really. Just pulled my dress over my chest. We looked at each other for a second. He didn't say goodbye, just kissed me once more. The just got out and shut the door."

I swallowed.

"You sat there alone?"

"I sat for a few minutes. My skin was burning. My thighs were trembling. I could feel his cum soaking into your hoodie where I'd pushed it under me."

I stared at her. "You used my hoodie as a towel?"

"I didn't mean to. It was just there. Warm. Yours. I didn't want to move. I wanted to feel ruined in something that smelled like you."

I didn't speak. I couldn't. My cock was straining in my jeans, throbbing, twitching with every word.

"Did you think about me?"

"Yes."

"What part?"

"Walking in the door with my cunt still full of another man's cum. Pretending I was fine. Knowing I wasn't."

"Were you ashamed?"

Sophia's voice dropped.

"I was alive. Turned on. Glowing."

"You drove home like that?"

"Every shift of the car seat pushed it deeper. Every red light I could feel it slide down my inner thigh. It was all I could think about."

"And when you got home?"

"The lights were still on. I could hear the dishwasher. You were upstairs. The kids were asleep. I walked in and everything was... normal."

"And you were wrecked."

"Yes."

"What did you do?"

"I went to the bathroom. Closed the door. Locked it. But I didn't turn on the light. I didn't want to see myself yet."

I moved my hand slowly, teasing her lips, spreading her open.

"Did you go straight to the shower?"

"I stood over the sink first. Touched my chest. Pulled my panties down. I could see how soaked they were, how sticky my thighs were. I spread myself open with two fingers and watched the mess drip out."

"Did you touch yourself?"

"Not yet. I stepped into the shower but didn't turn it on. I stood there naked, open, used. I wanted to stay like that."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to bring it all to you. My body. My mess. I didn't want to wash him away."

I leaned in.

"You wanted to come to me dirty."

"Yes."

My heart was hammering. "Why?"

Sophia looked up at me, calm, certain.

"Because I wanted you to taste it. All of it. I wanted to show you what he did to me. I wanted to lay myself out for you like a platter. Spread open. Still wet. Still leaking. Still full."

She paused.

"And I wanted to watch what that did to you."

"When were you going to tell me?" I asked, my voice tight, low.

Sophia looked up at me, calm but breathing harder now. "I was going to let you find me first."

"Find you how?"

She slowly slid back on the bed, lying flat, eyes locked on mine.

"Like this."

She pushed her shorts down her thighs, slow, deliberate. Her panties followed. They were pale, soaked through, almost translucent with how wet she still was. When she pulled them down, the scent hit me.

Not just her.

Not just arousal.

It was sex.

Raw. Tangled. Something feral and open and not mine.

I stared at her cunt--slick, red, swollen. Her lips parted just slightly, and I could see the creamy drip still clinging inside her. A line of it caught the light, stretched from her inner thigh down toward the bed.

"Fuck," I muttered.

She lay back, legs falling open.

"I wanted you to see all of it. Before I cleaned up. I wanted you to smell it on me. Taste it."

My body was rigid. I moved over her, hovering.

"You wanted me to devour you like this?"

"Yes."

I looked at her, really looked--her chest rising fast, her lips parted, her legs wide and shameless. Her skin glowed with sweat, and there was a flush in her cheeks that hadn't left since she started talking.

"You knew I'd want this."

Sophia's hand slid down between her legs. She spread herself with two fingers. I watched as a trail of his cum stretched across her slit, still wet, still glistening.

"I didn't just want you to want it," she whispered. "I wanted you to need it."

I dropped to my knees at the edge of the bed.

I didn't ask. I didn't speak.

I leaned in.

The first breath stole every rational thought from my brain. It was her. And him. Her sweetness and his thickness, tangled together in the heat between her thighs. It hit me so deep I felt my cock jump in my pants.

I pressed my tongue against her.

She moaned sharp and loud, hips jolting.

I tasted her first. Then him. Then the two of them together. Her pussy was hot, flushed, soaked. I dragged my tongue through the mess, lapping up everything she'd been holding in for me.

I heard her gasp. "Oh god..."

I grabbed her thighs and spread her wider, burying my face in her cunt, licking every inch. She was dripping--on my lips, down my chin--and I didn't stop. I wanted to humiliate myself in it. Drown in it. I sucked her clit into my mouth and her hips lifted off the bed.

She was panting. Writhing.

"Don't stop," she whispered, voice ragged. "Take it. Take all of it."

My tongue pushed inside her. She was still full. Still open. I moaned into her, tasting the man who'd fucked her, the wife who had begged for it, the ache she brought home to me.

I pulled back for a second, just to watch it leak.

"You brought this home to me," I said.

Sophia was flushed, trembling. "I brought it to feed your soul."

"You wanted to be my meal."

"Yes."

I stood and shoved my jeans down. My cock sprang free, slick with precum.

"Turn over," I said.

She rolled onto her stomach, then up to her knees, face buried in the pillow, ass high and exposed.

I climbed behind her, gripped her hips, and stared at her pussy. Still glistening. Still messy. Still inviting.

I pushed the head of my cock into her slowly.

Sophia gasped and pushed back against me.

"I can still feel him," she whispered.

I growled. "Now you'll feel me."

I pushed into her slowly, and the moment my cock slipped past her lips, I felt it.

Hot.

Wet.

Slippery in a way that wasn't just her.

His cum was still inside her. Still coating her walls. Still dripping out in creamy strands that clung to my shaft as I sank deeper.

Sophia moaned into the mattress.

"Oh god..."

I pulled back an inch and looked down.

My cock was glossed in white. Coated in the mess she'd brought home to me. Her body was leaking it--his cum, her wetness, now mixing with my precum, sliding down the backs of her thighs in slow, thick drips.

"Jesus," I muttered. "You're still full."

She turned her head slightly. Her voice was hoarse.

"I wanted to be."

I gripped her hips tighter, pulled her back onto me, and thrust deeper.

The sound was obscene. A wet slurp that echoed in the room, sticky and raw. My cock stirred the mess inside her, spreading it, claiming the space he left behind.

"You let him come this deep?" I growled.

"Yes."

"Now I'm going to fuck it out of you."

I slammed into her and watched the mixture gush around my shaft. Her pussy sucked me in, greedy, filthy, already fluttering.

The smell was overwhelming. Sex. Sweat. Her. Him. Me. All of it layered in the heat between her legs.

I leaned over her back, wrapped a hand around her throat, and pressed my mouth against her ear.

"You wanted to be filled by both of us."

Sophia gasped.

"Yes."

My cock was drenched now, sliding in and out of her in long, deep strokes. The slick sounds were constant, wet and lewd. His cum bubbled out with every thrust, leaking onto the sheets, coating my balls, painting the base of her ass.

I bit her shoulder.

"I want to be the last one inside you. The only one you remember when you close your eyes."

"Then fuck me harder."

I did.

I pulled her up to her knees and drove into her. The mess was pouring now. I could feel her clenching, sucking at me, as if her body couldn't tell where one man ended and the other began.

"You're mine," I said.

"Yes."

"Say it while I fuck his cum out of you."

"I'm yours."

"You're going to come on my cock, with his still dripping out of you."

She cried out, trembling. Her thighs quaked. She was close.

"Say it again."

"I'm yours," she gasped. "I'm fucking yours."

Her pussy clamped down, spasming, messy and loud. A fresh rush of juices exploded around me. The wetness was so intense I could feel it spraying onto my thighs, coating me. My cock throbbed, aching, buried to the hilt inside her.

"I'm going to fill you," I whispered. "Flood you until nothing of him is left."

"Yes. Do it. I want to feel it spill out with his."

That broke me.

I drove into her, hips snapping, and came hard--long, violent pulses, my cum shooting deep inside her, mixing with what was already there, adding to the chaos. I felt it ooze out around my cock, felt her body twitch and clench, milking every drop.

We collapsed together, her on her stomach, me draped over her back, still inside her.

Still leaking.

Still connected.

I kissed her shoulder. My hand found hers. Fingers laced.

"You're everything."

She turned her head toward me. Her eyes were wet, glowing, wild and tender all at once.

"I wanted you to see all of me," she said. "Even the part that got ruined for you."

I shook my head slowly.

"You're not ruined," I said. "You're mine."

And I was still inside her.

We didn't speak at first.

Just stayed there, tangled. Her chest pressed into the mattress, her thighs still parted, my cock softening slowly inside her. Our skin was slick with sweat, her ass and inner thighs glazed with the mix of three orgasms and two men.

I watched it leak out of her.

Thick. White. Slow.

Gravity pulling it from her ruined pussy, letting it run down onto the sheets. It was a mess. The kind you don't clean right away. The kind you stare at and breathe in.

I brushed her hair off her shoulder and kissed the back of her neck. Her body twitched, then relaxed.

"You okay?" I asked.

She nodded into the pillow. "I've never felt more like myself."

I pulled out of her gently. More cum spilled from her. I watched it with a strange mix of awe and possessiveness. My cum. His. Hers. All of it hers now.

She rolled onto her back slowly, her legs falling open naturally, as if her body no longer cared about modesty. She was flushed, glowing, raw, gorgeous. Wrecked. And proud of it.

Her eyes met mine.

"I didn't know what you'd do," she whispered. "After I told you everything."

I reached over and cupped her face.

"I didn't either."

Her fingers found my wrist, held it. "But you didn't leave."

"No," I said. "I fucked you."

She smiled, but it wasn't playful. It was grateful. Deep. Maybe even a little shaken by what we'd just been through.

"And you loved me through it," she said.

I nodded.

"I didn't want to hide from it," I said. "I didn't want you to come back and pretend you were the same. Because you're not."

Her eyes welled up a little.

"And neither are you," she said.

We lay there for a while, barely touching, but more connected than we'd been in years. It wasn't just the sex. It wasn't even just the confession. It was the space. The freedom. The danger of it. The fact that we both looked over the edge together and didn't flinch.

"I didn't do this to hurt you," she whispered.

"I know," I said. "You did it because something inside you needed it. And you trusted me enough to bring it home."

Sophia turned on her side, facing me. She reached down, ran her fingers along my soft cock, now smeared with everything she had given me.

"Something happened to me in that backseat," she said.

"I know."

"I felt powerful. Filthy. Alive. And I didn't want to hide that from you. I wanted to be loved in that state."

"You were."

She blinked at me.

"I've never wanted you more than I do right now," I said. "Not when we met. Not on our honeymoon. Right now. Right here. With your thighs sticky and your pussy leaking. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

She bit her lip.

"Say that again."

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

She smiled. That soft, private kind. The one I hadn't seen in months. Maybe years.

And then she did something small, but devastating.

She reached for my hand and placed it right over her heart.

"You still want me?" she asked.