r/mallucuckoldie

We walked straight to the bedroom. The first thing he did was grab a fresh bedsheet from the closet and spread it over the rumpled one already on the mattress. That simple action made my stomach twist. He was planning to put me through something messy, something that would leave stains.

He pointed at the bed. "On your back." I climbed up and lay down, heart hammering. He grabbed my ankles and yanked me toward the edge until my head hung off the mattress. A pillow went under my neck to adjust the angle. My hands stayed at my sides until he grabbed both wrists and pinned them wide against the bed. His weight settled over me as he bent forward.

His cock, still slick from earlier, pressed against my lips. He pushed in without asking. The first few thrusts stayed shallow, but he quickly changed the angle and drove deeper. My throat tightened around him. He didn't pull back. Saliva flooded my mouth and spilled over my cheeks. He kept thrusting, using the new position to slide further each time. I gagged hard, body jerking, but his hands held my arms flat and his hips kept moving.

After a couple of minutes he finally eased out. I tried to roll onto my stomach, desperate for a break, but he pushed me flat again. His cock dragged across my face, smearing spit over my skin before he shoved back into my mouth. The pace picked up. He fucked my throat in long, steady strokes, sometimes holding deep for several seconds while I struggled for air. Every time I choked he pulled back just enough for a quick breath, then sank in again.

I stayed fully dressed. He was still only half naked, jeans around his thighs. My own cock strained inside my pants, untouched. The realization hit me that I was nothing more than a hole for him right now. He used my mouth like that for over half an hour, switching between deep, relentless thrusts and slower, grinding pushes that forced me to swallow around the head. Thick strands of spit ran down my face and into my hair.

When he finally stopped, he let go of my wrists and stepped back. I lay there panting, face covered in spit, throat sore and swollen. He grabbed my shoulders and flipped me onto my stomach in one rough motion. My face pressed into the fresh sheet as he climbed over me. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my pants and yanked them down just enough to bare my ass. Both hands spread my cheeks wide. The head of his cock nudged against my hole. He pressed forward slowly at first, testing the resistance, then added more pressure. The tight ring refused to give. Pain flared sharp and sudden as he tried again, pushing the tip harder against the clenched muscle. I tensed up hard, gasping and pulling away instinctively. He tried once more, the blunt head straining but unable to breach even an inch. The pressure made me flinch and twist under him. He pushed twice more with steady force before giving up with a low grunt and turning my head back toward his cock.

He wiped his cock on my cheek one last time and pulled his jeans up. The disappointment hit me right then, even through the haze of nerves and arousal. I had wanted him to take my virginity that night, to keep me there for days if needed, stretching me open until I could take every inch. But he didn't. He let me up without another word. I pulled my pants back into place while he watched from the edge of the bed. My throat still ached, my face sticky with spit and precum.

Finally, he kindly let me use the bathroom. I went in, freshened up, and took some time to myself. When I came back out, we started talking. He began asking me more about myself—where I was going, what I was doing, where I was from, and what I was up to. It wasn't just random small talk; he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me.

He was also really considerate. He offered me something to eat and brought me some cold drinks, making sure I was comfortable. I hadn't expected that kind of hospitality, especially from someone I had only just met and used me.

We ended up spending another hour or two talking and just hanging around. After spending all that time together, I assumed he was going to use me again. But instead, he did something completely different. He dropped me off so I could catch the bus and head toward the place I had originally been going to when I was on the train.

The End

What would you have done differently if you could relive that night? Would you have begged him to stay and try again, or would you have walked away like I did?

Thanks for all the responses to my last post. A lot of you asked what happened after that first touch on the train, and honestly, looking back, I think that was the moment I stopped belonging to myself and started belonging to him.

So that brushing thing and all was happening, for 5–10 minutes. And he looked at me and realised that I'm enjoying it. But I was really scared and stuck and didn't know what to do.

And when his stop arrived... he literally placed his hands on my back. Like, not on my ass... above it. And gave me a little push. Which means he wanted me to get off with him there... even though my station was the next one. I was nervous and liked what he did to me at the same time.

I said no the first time. Then I got off with him anyway. I have no idea why I did that.

He was leading the way, and until that we hadn't talked a single word. My heart was beating like hell. So I followed him to the parking lot where his car was parked. And shameless me sat on the front seat.

After both of us were inside the car, he started the engine. The car idled. His hand stayed on the gearshift. And before he started driving, he talked to me for the first time, and it was a question: "Did you like what I did to you?"

I had no answer, which he took as yes, I guess. He gave me a smirk. He put the car in gear and started driving.

First he didn't do anything. After driving for 2–3 minutes... I felt it. After some time, his palms were on my thighs, and gradually it started to move towards my hard dick over my pants, and he started to rub them. My heart was beating so fast that I couldn't sense anything around me. For some reason I enjoyed it, but I was also nervous at the same time.

Somewhere in there, he unzipped me. His hand was inside my pants, rubbing my dick over my underwear. And he started to squeeze them too, all this while he was driving the car with one hand. My mouth said nothing. My hips said everything. The boy in me was enjoying it for some reason.

And after some time while driving he called his friend, and he was saying that he needed an apartment for tonight. And that's when I knew that this was only the start of my new life.

After some more rubbing and squeezing, we finally reached the apartment. He was not doing anything while we stepped out of the car until we reached the apartment room. I was expecting him to do something in the lift. But he didn't do anything.

And my mind said: He was saving it all for the apartment.

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