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Ultimatum - Part 3

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He gives her an ultimatum, has no idea how far it will go.

This is the third and final part of a 3-part series. If you haven't read the previous two parts, I strongly suggest you go back and read them. If you're one of the few who has been following since the beginning, I hope you enjoy the conclusion. Please rate the story, and feel free to give any feedback you have.

For those who didn't read the previous parts:

Part One: Harriet is a loving but traditional woman. Her boyfriend begins to have cuckold fantasies about her, though it's clear she's not interested. Desperately, he sets up a scenario where he hopes she will at least consider the idea. He takes her out for dinner and drinks, then takes her to a local pub and gives her an ultimatum: she will sit there alone for the rest of the evening and let herself get chatted up by some local guys or he will pack his things and move out. He leaves her there, furious and upset.

She comes home late with one of the guys from the pub in two. His name is Lee and he is a bit of chav.

He watches while she gives Lee a blowjob. Enjoying his position of power, Lee calls his friend Dave, who comes by the house to see them. He convinces Harriet to give Dave a blowjob too.

While she's doing that, Lee has been in touch with his two other workmates, Eddie and Reece. They have just arrived and been shown into the living room as Harriet finishes off Dave.

Again, Lee suggests that she should give the two new guys a blowjob. Eagerly, she agrees...

Part Two: Harriet sucks off Eddie and Reece, then Lee takes her upstairs and spends the whole night having sex with her. Her boyfriends listen from the adjoining spare room. When it's all over and Lee's gone, he can barely look at her - but he won't talk to her about it. At least it's over. They'll find time to talk about it soon.

Then, the week after, he's sitting at home alone - Harriet having already gone to bed - and there's a knock at the door. He opens it and is stunned to find Lee, drunk and horny. Lee insists on going up to say hi to Harriet, and comes down an hour later zipping his flies.

Again, he won't talk to Harriet about it. He decides it won't happen again. If Lee comes knocking again, he will send him away. He practises the words until he's confident. But then when Lee does come knocking, things don't go to plan. He finds himself allowing Lee in again.

A few minutes after Lee goes upstairs this time, he hears Harriet scream for help. He goes running to assist, but it's a fake: the two of them are on the bed, amused, waiting for him. He watches as Lee takes her in a number of positions, including anally.


I practically moved into the spare room after that night. At first, it was just to sleep - but then I moved some clothes in there, a book for bedtime reading, some other stuff. Before I knew it, I'd moved in there completely.

Harriet said nothing about it.

Our relationship continued exactly as it always had: we saw friends together, visited family, did all the things that couples are supposed to do. A few times we even arranged "date nights", going out to a restaurant or to the cinema. We talked quietly, subdued. We didn't laugh. We never mentioned the thing that was important, the thing that had invaded our life.

Lee visited pretty much every Friday night now, turning up after his day at work and his evening at the pub. Once he even turned up at 3am, coming completely hammered after he'd clearly been out clubbing or something with the other lads. He had stayed at the house less than ten minutes that time, then scuttled back out the door, half-dressed.

In the early days, I would sometimes watch, always marvelling to see Harriet do things I never thought or imagined she'd ever be interested in.

After a while, I would just open the door, let him in, and then skulk up to the spare room and go to bed. I'd lay there and listen to their sounds all through the night.

This is what it has become now, I would think, laying in the dark in the spare room. I knew he would get bored of it one day and wondered if things would get back to normal after that.

I couldn't even remember what normal was supposed to be.

I thought back to the night I'd ended up with Vaseline all over my hands - that sticky, grimy feeling. My hand still felt like that on those nights, lying in the dark.

There were some Friday nights when he didn't come to the house, though they were rare. I wondered what he was doing. I wondered if Harriet missed him. She seemed to know he wasn't coming in advance, and she'd stay up a little later watching TV.

Every time, I thought about what would happen if he didn't show up again the week after, or the week after that. Would we ever be able to bridge the gap between us?

It began to feel as though life would continue like this forever.

Then in November, I made a discovery that changed everything.


There'd been a problem at work. All the computers had crashed. The majority of us were left unable to access the systems at all. We sat around for most of the day, twiddling our thumbs, waiting for the servers to be rebooted so that we could get on with our day. When it got to 3pm, the boss finally gave in, knowing that even if they managed to get the servers running, very little would get done. She sent us home, told us to come back fresh tomorrow.

Some of the team went to the pub - we usually did after work on a Wednesday. There was nothing wrong with getting in a few extra pints early on.

But for some reason, on this particular day, I decided to go straight home. I got back to the house early, walking through the door by 4.30, six hours earlier than usual on a Wednesday.

Harriet was already at home; she was usually out of the office by three - one of the perks of working for the local council.

She was in the living room when I came through the door, sitting on the sofa, a freshly-brewed cup of tea on the table in front of her. She was wearing an old dress, something she only usually wore around the house when she was cleaning, something she could just throw on and it didn't matter to her if it got damaged or dirty. Her hair was ragged and unkempt, her make-up smeared and dishevelled.

I suppose it's all very obvious, looking back now. But I didn't really understand what was happening at the time.

"Hi," she said. "You're home early."



That's what passed for conversation between us nowadays. I went to the downstairs bathroom to take a piss. I stood over the toilet bowl, hosing a thin stream of weak piss, whistling to myself as I did, wondering what I would do with the extra hours I had to myself this evening.

And then I looked to the left, at the bathroom bin. The whistle died on my lips. The stream of urine slowed. The whole world swam around me as I processed what I could see in the bin: a condom. Bright red. Used and then discarded.

I finished up, washed my hands, and then came out of the bathroom, my mind reeling, trying to figure this out.

I walked into the living room. Harriet was waiting for me. Her hair was fixed now, brushed and straight. Her make-up was tidier, still shoddy. Her tea was untouched.

"Hey," I said nervously, and sat down on the armchair, watching her.

She looked back at me warily.

"What have you been doing all afternoon?"

She didn't answer; just shrugged.

We sat in silence for several minutes that stretched out like hours. Finally, I heard myself say: "He's been here today."

It wasn't a question. She didn't attempt to answer.

"There's a used johnny in the bathroom."

Now she nodded, understanding how I'd put it together.

"Does he come here a lot?"

She shrugged again.

"How long has it been happening? I didn't know he came here during the day. I thought Lee - " And then I stopped, my eyes widening in surprise. It had just hit me: this wasn't Lee. Lee had been fucking her for months and I had never known him to use a condom.

Seeing me put the pieces in place, Harriet looked away, her face reddening.

"If it's not Lee, then who is it?" I asked. I could feel anger brewing inside me, though I wasn't sure where it had come from or why it had decided to appear now.

She shrugged.

"Who is it, Harriet?"

She rolled her eyes. "The other one," she muttered.

The other one? My mind strained to decipher the comment. "The other guy from that night, you mean? From the night they were all here? The pretty-boy one?"

She shook her head now. She spoke in a low voice. "He was here a couple of times, but he was never really that interested."

"The old ugly dude?" I asked.

Now she nodded slowly.

My mind reeled. She didn't even like him. I still remembered the look of disgust on her face when she had seen him, the way she had pulled slightly away when he'd pawed and groped at her.

"Why? How long has this been going on? What?" I couldn't even structure that last one into a question.

Harriet considered a moment before answering, "He's been regular for a while now. Lee lets him finish his shift early on Wednesdays so that he can come round."

A dozen potential replies came to me all at once. There was so much to ask about this. But how would my brain organise the questions by importance and/or relevance?

My response, when it came, was clearly just an emotional reflex. "I suppose he lets the kid off early once a week to come and sort you out too?"

She lowered her head now and averted her eyes. "No, he doesn't let the kid off early. Reece doesn't work there, he was just on work experience with them. He's in his last year at school."

I narrowed my eyes. "And how do you know so much about him?"

"He told me."

"He does come round here, doesn't he?"

She looked up at me now, her eyes meeting mine unashamedly. "School finishes at just after three, and he is here by half past. We have plenty of time, though he's usually on his way out by four." Preempting the next question, she added: "Once a week usually, sometimes twice."

I felt sick. "Is there anyone else fucking you?"

She shook her head. "Just the ones you wanted me to fuck in the first place."

"The whole idea was for me to be there, to watch - not to go about it all behind my back."

"How the hell am I supposed to know what the rules are? We never discussed this - you just set it up so that it would happen. You starve me of sex for six months, then tell me you're taking me out, that something special is happening... I thought you were going to ask me to marry you! But no - instead, you told me that I had to fool around with some other guy or we'd break up. Then you just walked out of the pub and left me. I sat there, heartbroken, feeling so fucking stupid and worthless and low.

"When Lee actually started giving me attention that night, I thought, Why not? I planned to go home with him out of spite - then come back the next day, pack up my things, move out. But I couldn't go through with it. I loved you too much and I couldn't go behind your back, so I brought him back here to see if you still wanted it to happen. And you clearly did. When he invited his other friends, I wasn't sure if that was something you'd set up somehow. But you didn't say no, didn't stop it. So again: Why not?

"You've barely spoken to me since this started. You told me it was the only way to keep our relationship alive, but it's destroyed it completely. We don't even sleep in the same room anymore. You've never told me if you enjoyed any of this, if I was going too far or not far enough. You never told me what you wanted, so I thought for once in my life I'd just get on and do the things I wanted to do. New things. Different things."

I listened to the whole monologue with no idea how I would respond. Should I be angry? Hurt? Should I offer to try to fix things, see if we could patch it up somehow?

My response, when it finally came, was a surprise for both of us: "When's the next time the kid will be round after school? I want to watch you fuck him."

She sighed. "You want to watch me fuck Reece? Yeah, fine, whatever. You don't want to talk about the rest of it?"

"Let me watch you first, then we can talk about the rest of it."

She rolled her eyes. "He's coming tomorrow. But he's shy. He won't like having you here while we do it."

"I'll hide in the wardrobe."

She nodded. "Fine."

I spent the rest of the evening emptying out the wardrobe, finding the perfect position for it so that I had a clear view of the bed through the gap in the doors. I was tired when that was done and I lay on the bed and fell asleep. I woke groggily a few hours later when Harriet came up to bed.

Not thinking, I quickly undressed and got back into bed beside her. She said nothing. I was asleep again within seconds.


I was instantly erect when I woke up next to her the next morning. It all came back to me, all the things we had said and the thought of what was planned for later in the day.

I went downstairs and had breakfast, then called in sick for work. Harriet came down a few minutes later - she also had the day off - and the two of us ate breakfast together in silence. Last night was the first time in months that we'd slept in the same bed. Neither of us mentioned it.

Nor did either of us mention the plan for today. Harriet went out to do some errands in the morning, somehow managing to stay out until nearly 2pm. I sat indoors, slumped on the sofa in front of the TV, my mind whirring - wondering what was going to happen, what I was going to see, whether Harriet would enjoy herself as much with Reece as she did with Lee.

My erection stayed constant, primed, throughout the morning.

Harriet rushed in just before two, a shopping bag dangling from her arm. She unpacked and put the things away, then pulled out a plastic tub containing a cheap ready-made salad. She ate it quickly, then threw away the packaging, washed and dried the fork, and came to the living room doorway.

"I'm going to get ready now," she said, and then went upstairs.

I followed.

For the next hour and a half, I watched her work through her beauty regime. A long soak in the bath, oils and moisturisers and face masks - scrubbing her skin so hard that she was almost rubbed raw, and bright red from the heat of the bath. She clipped her nails, trimmed her bush (it was always short now - ready for action, I suppose). Then she blow-dried her hair, leaving it long and luscious and lolling around her shoulders.

She took no notice of me watching her.

She applied a little makeup and sprayed herself generously in perfume. Something sweet and light. Nice. Then came the underwear. She went to her chest of drawers and squatted to the bottom one. She slid it open and pulled out a pink matching bra and panties set, resting on a hanger, unopened. Then she reached in with her other hand and pulled out the same thing, this time in white; and then again, in black.

She turned to face me and held up the pink set in front of her, then the white, then the black. She didn't say a word.

"Pink," I said.

She nodded and smiled, then put the other two back. She slipped the panties on and pulled them up her legs, slowly, savouring the moment. Then she latched the bra around her chest, fixing her breasts in place, contained but bulging seductively in the cups. She wrapped her dressing gown around her, then sat on the bed. She pulled out her phone and began playing with it with her newly-manicured fingers (which she must have had done when she went out this morning, I thought).

I looked at my watch. Three-thirty. He would be here soon.

"He'll ring the doorbell when he's here?" I asked her. She nodded without looking up. Silly question. I got up and went to the bathroom for a piss - which was difficult, considering the unfailing, rubbery erection I'd had since this morning (and which had no chance of going away).

Then I went to the spare room, sat on the edge of the bed, and waited. I couldn't bear to sit in the room with her. She looked too perfect in that pretty pink underwear. I took long, deep breaths. Images flew through my brain and I tried not to let them overpower me.

The doorbell rang. I stood up and undressed, quickly, leaving myself in just my boxers.

I heard Harriet leave the bedroom and make her way downstairs to let them in, and while she was gone I moved into the bedroom. I climbed into the wardrobe and shut the doors. The gap between them afforded enough room that I was able to see the bed. I was close enough that I would see every detail - smell every detail too, if I wanted.

I heard the front door open, then close again. There were voices, and then footsteps on the stairs.

Harriet came into the room with Reece behind her. I recognised him from the last time. He was only a few months older, but somehow he looked more mature than before. Context, I thought; last time he had been with three middle-aged men.

Or maybe it was just this - all the sex he'd had with Harriet had matured him.

Then behind him, another boy came into the bedroom. The same age, but didn't look even nearly as mature. A mop of curly blond hair jittered nervously on the top of his head.

A friend from school, I thought, staring.

Reece introduced him: "This is Miles. He's in my class at school and he was keen to meet you."

I goggled. What was happening?

"Well, that's very nice," Harriet said. She didn't seem at all embarrassed to be standing in front of this new boy in just a thin gown and underwear. "It's lovely to meet you, Miles."

The boy blushed crimson. "It's g-great to meet y-you too."

None of this was part of the script. Harriet told them to wait, then left the bedroom. The two boys turned to each other and grinned.

"She's gorgeous!" Miles said.

Reece nodded. "Tell me about it. She's really nice too, really cool - you'll see. Just follow my lead."

My mind buzzed.

Then Harriet came back into the room and shut the bedroom door behind her. She smiled wide at the two boys.

The three of them looked around at each other in silence, no-one knowing what to say or do.

Finally, it was Harriet who took control. "Do you want to sit on the bed?" she asked and perched herself on the edge.

Miles looked nervously around at Reece, who urged him forwards. He looked terrified.

Reece took charge, stepping forward and sitting down next to her. He leaned over and kissed her. One of his hands reached up and cupped her breast through the thin dressing gown.

He pulled away a few seconds later and glared over at Miles. Miles got the message and sat down on the other side of Harriet so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed now with a teenager on either side of her. She leaned over to Miles and kissed him, gently at first and then sinking into it. His hands reached up and groped her breasts the same way he had seen Reece do moments before.

"Mmmm, good," she said when he pulled away. She turned her head the other way and kissed Reece again now.

She continued like that for a few minutes, kissing one then the other, each of them taking their turn to grope at her breasts (both of them dropped their hands, embarrassed, when they weren't actually kissing her). Eventually, Reece slipped the dressing gown away from her shoulders. She shrugged it off and let it slip down her back, then undid the front. She broke off the kiss and stood up, and the dressing gown fell away.

She stood in front of the two boys in just her pink underwear. Reece looked up at her appreciatively and reached out and lightly touched her bum. Miles gawped, overwhelmed by the sight and - no doubt - the whole situation, the reality of what was about to happen.

I watched from the darkness of the wardrobe, my whole body tense. I had wanted to see this, and I was about to get a double helping.

Harriet sat back down between the boys. She kissed Miles this time, a long, deep kiss. When she pulled back, he was almost breathless. He stared at her with wide eyes. She didn't let him recover. She leaned in and kissed him again. She reached a hand across and planted it on the front of his trousers, feeling his dick, no doubt rock hard beneath the fabric.

The boy moaned.

Harriet reached her other hand behind her and placed it on Reece's dick.

"Lay back," Reece said to her. "Let me do it the way you like it."

She let go of Miles and lay back on the bed. Reece shifted her so that her legs dangled over the edge. He took hold of her knickers and slid them down, exposing her neatly trimmed pussy. He pulled the knickers free and dropped them to one side, then eased her legs open.

Miles moved across the bed, giving them some room. He stared longingly down at her.

Reece began to kiss the insides of her legs, working his tongue up to the delicious pussy. When he got there, Harriet held onto the back of his head, holding him steady as he worked at her clit. She moaned softly. Reece's tongue worked faster, whipping around her clit in a frenzy. She held on tight as an orgasm rippled through her.

Her grip on his head loosened, and Reece looked up at his friend and smiled.

"Get your clothes off, both of you," she ordered.

The two of them stood up and undressed quickly, discarding their clothes on the floor. As they did, Harriet sat up and removed her bra, tossing it to one side.

Then the two boys stood in front of her, their bodies firm and young, their proud cocks sticking out towards her.

Harriet reached out her hands and took hold of both cocks, gently squeezing and jerking them.

Watching from the wardrobe was like watching this on a TV screen, perfectly angled to the side of the bed so that I could see all the action as it happened in front of me.

Harriet opened her mouth and placed it around Miles's dick first, swallowing it whole - all those practice sessions with Lee had paid off, it seemed. Miles groaned as he was enveloped by her warm, wet mouth. His eyes bulged as her tongue began to work along his shaft.

Then she took her mouth away and this time placed it over Reece. He closed his eyes.

She took turns on the two cocks for the next few minutes, switching from one to the other. Each time, she brought Miles dangerously close to the edge. There was an intense, determined look on his face; then when she switched to Reece, a big frown of disappointment.

"I want you to fuck me," she finally said and directed Reece around to the other side of the bed. She took hold of Miles by the hips and shifted him slightly, then flipped over and onto all fours.

Rather than watching this from the side now, I'd be witnessing this with her half-facing me, a forty-five-degree angle. I knew exactly what she was thinking: they were going to spit-roast her. While Reece fucked her doggy style, she'd take Miles in her mouth. And from this angle, I would get an extreme close-up of the whole thing.

Reece was searching through her bottom drawer - the one with the bra-and-knickers sets I'd never known about. "I can't find the condoms," he said finally.

Harriet twisted her head back to look at him, then back to Miles's cock in front of her. Then she turned her head slightly to the side, looking at the wardrobe - looking directly at me now. "I don't want you to use a condom. I want to feel you in me."

Reece hesitated for a few seconds, then jumped back up and stood beside her.

Harriet's focus switched back in front of her to Miles's hard, throbbing cock. She clamped her mouth over it.

Then Reece penetrated from behind and she jolted forward, Miles's dick pressing on her throat. Miles moaned.

For the next few minutes, the three of them rocked together in unison. Reece held onto her hips and smiled smugly as he moved, confident and in control.

Miles had brought his hands up to hold onto Harriet's head as she licked and sucked at him. He moaned and bucked and groaned and made contented little "ooh" sounds. He was not in control, not at all.

Between them, Harriet moved expertly, never flinching or choking, however deep Miles's cock was buried into her throat. She pushed back on Reece as he thrust into her, trying to take him deeper, deeper into her.

I watched from the wardrobe, dick throbbing in my boxers, my hands clenched into fists in front of me.

Finally, it was too much for Miles. He began to make longer, deeper groans. "Uh, ohh, uhhh," he said. He dropped his hands and tried to push himself away from her.

But Harriet had wrapped her hands around his waist, her hands gripped onto his buttocks. She pulled him back towards her and continued sucking, working her mouth and tongue harder if anything.

"She likes to swallow it," Reece said, still pumping confidently.

Miles grabbed her head again and let himself go. "Aaarrrggghh."

"Mmmmm," Harriet moaned. She didn't break away from him--kept her mouth locked around his shaft and let him fill up her mouth until he stopped spurting. Then she gulped and swallowed and continued to lick the skin on his shaft as his erection immediately began to wane. She looked over at me as she did.

Miles pulled away from her when she was done and slumped against the wall. He let out a long, deep breath. "That was amazing," he said. He reached down for his boxer shorts, which he had tossed aside before this had all begun, and put them back on.

"You want to switch position?" Reece asked, smiling wide. I can do this all day, however you want, that smile seemed to say.

Harriet looked over at the wardrobe again - at me. "No," she said. "I like it just how we are. I want you to fuck me hard, as hard as you can."

"Sure thing."

"And then I want you to come all over my face."

Reece grinned. "Hell yeah." His hands gripped her hips again, and he began to pound away at her. She began to judder back and forth as he fucked her. Her mouth opened and her tongue lolled out. Her eyes were fixed on me as she was fucked.

He kept it up for a few minutes before he had to reach up and wipe the sweat from his brow. He began to slow down and then reached both hands down and underneath her, cupping her breasts.

"I told you to fuck me hard," Harriet said sternly over her shoulder. "Keep going."

He raised his eyebrows, but then did as he was told, taking hold of her hips and thrusting back and forth. He grunted as he moved, trying to push himself as deep and as hard into her as he could. He reached out and took hold of her hair, pulling her head back.

"Oh yeah oh yeah oh yessss!" Harriet moaned, almost chanting.

"I'm gonna come," Reece said.

He pulled away from her and she flipped onto her back. She dangled her head over the side of the bed--so that she was still watching me, albeit upside down now. Reece jumped onto the bed and straddled her chest, his dick held out in front of him. He squatted down over her face, pointed his cock, and sprayed his come over her.

She moaned and poked her tongue out, licking around her lips and lapping up everything she could reach.

When he was done, Reece lowered his dick and she licked him clean.

Then he jumped off the bed and began to gather up his clothes. Harriet sat up and looked at the two of them, semen still dripping over her face.

Miles stepped forward. I noticed that his dick was erect again--I remember I'd been able to do that when I'd been his age. "Erm, is it okay if... I mean, I'd like to do it again?"

Harriet smiled up at him, then shifted and rocked backwards on the bed, opening her legs invitingly.

Miles stared as her pussy opened.

"You didn't actually get to fuck me, did you?" she teased. He shook his head. "Do you think you can do it quick, before my husband comes home?"

He nodded vigorously and began sliding his boxers down again, freeing his erect cock.

"Then come and fuck me," Harriet said, lying horizontally on her back and lifting her legs in the air. He jumped on top, thrusting into her. He moaned as soon as he entered. His hands clutched around her as he began to pump.

Harriet wrapped her legs around his back and pulled him close into her. She turned her head to the side and whispered into his ear, "Fuck me as hard as you can and as quick as you can."

But again, she was looking over at me as she spoke, a smile on her face.

He obliged, jack-hammering away at her as fast as he could. Even though he'd come only a few minutes before, he began to make noises after only another minute. He tried to pull away.

Harriet's legs tightened their grip around his back. Still looking at me, she said to him: "Keep going. I want you to come inside me."

And he did, only seconds later, groaning and then grinding deep into her. Only when he had emptied and she was full of his seed did she release her grip and let him pull away from her. By this time, Reece was already dressed. Miles grabbed up his clothes and began to put them back on.

"That was amazing, as always," Reece said. "Same time next week?"

She nodded.

"And Miles?"

She nodded again. A big grin spread across Miles's face.

"And there's this other guy in our school I kinda mentioned it to," Reece continued.

Harriet waved a hand and cut him off. "Whatever," she said. "Bring whoever you want. It'll be fun."

They said their goodbyes and Harriet led them out of the bedroom and out of the house. I wondered if she remembered there were still strands of come covering her face, or if she even cared. Our front door and driveway weren't exactly sheltered, and if any of our neighbours happened to look over at the house while she was seeing them out, they would know everything.

I stood in the wardrobe and listened to them leave, my raging erection almost as strong as the anger building inside.

I heard Harriet ascending the stairs again, heading back towards the bedroom. I stayed where I was in the wardrobe, not really sure why I was hiding. My fingers brushed against the inside of the door. My fingers still felt sticky somehow, like I hadn't rid myself of that coating of Vaseline that had been on my palms from the time Lee had been here.

She came into the bedroom and sat on the bed. Completely naked, still dripping with come, she looked over at the wardrobe. She leaned back and opened her legs, presenting herself to me, still wet with both her juices and Miles's. One of her hands came around to the front and began to play with her slit.

I burst out the wardrobe, the doors opening with a crash. I dropped my boxers down around my ankles and stepped jumped towards her.

Harriet closed her legs and flinched into a sitting position. She turned away from me. "No," she said.

I reached out and grabbed her by the arms. My brain still hadn't processed her words - there was only one thing on my mind right now.

She pushed me away, her face stern. "No," she said again.

The fog over my brain cleared, finally understanding what she was saying. "What? Why?"

"Because this," she said, looking down at her pussy, "doesn't belong to you. Not anymore."

My mind reeled as if I'd been slapped, but my hard-on raged. I shouted at her, "Who does it belong to, then? Lee? Or one of the other ones? Maybe that pretty boy who isn't interested in you really but came round to pity fuck you a few times?!" I wanted my voice to come out deep, booming, roaring. But it wasn't coming out right - it was much higher-pitched than I'd imagined, nasal and wheedling somehow. But I continued - even as my voice rattled higher, I knew it was the only way to let out the build-up of frustration and horniness. "Or what about that disgusting old man Eddie? He can barely get it up most of the time I bet - but he's round here once a week, regular as clockwork, to have a go on his dirty slut. Or the kids - Reece and his friend. Or maybe it belongs to the whole of their sixth form by now - or will by the end of term, I suppose."

Unfazed by the torrent of abuse, she said simply, "No. It belongs to me."

The poise, the calmness, the air of superiority about her, was something I never expected to see from her. Certainly, I'd never have expected to see it from someone who still had drops of semen splattered across her face.

"Yes, they've all fucked me, because I wanted to and because I let them. It's mine. Just like this house. Now get out. I packed you a suitcase under your bed - you can come back for the rest another time."

I grabbed up my clothes, put them on, and walked into the spare room. There, under the bed, exactly as she said, was a suitcase, pre-packed with some of my old clothes. I wondered how long it had been under the bed, how long she had been waiting for this moment.

I stormed out of the house and left her there, naked and covered in come, but somehow still possessing more dignity than me.


It's been a year since the day I walked out. We spoke briefly a few times, but it was only ever about the logistics of collecting the rest of my stuff.

Sometimes I wondered what happened with her and Lee after I left - did he come and see her? Maybe, with me out of the way, they'd graduated to something more than once a week. Maybe they began officially seeing each other. Though I felt that most of the reason he even came to her was because of me: so that he could humiliate me, gloat over me with the thought of doing my girlfriend. And what about Reece and his friends? Did she put a stop to that, or did she work her way around the whole class?

I looked her up on Facebook a while ago, though obviously there was no mention of any of that. I did see that she's with a new guy now - they had posted some pretty sickening, lovey-dovey stuff on their timelines. She also put up pictures of a slutty-looking tattoo she had recently acquired on her ankle.

I trawled through her Friends list, but there was no sign of Reece or Miles. Or Lee. I tried to remember the name of his business - maybe it would have a Facebook presence even if he specifically didn't - but I couldn't think of it.

It doesn't matter. She's moved on, and without much of a fuss too.

But that's fine. I've moved on too.

I started seeing Emily less than a month after I broke things up with Harriet. Things have been great so far. We get on amazingly well, better than Harriet and I ever did (even back when we did communicate), and the sex is incredible. I can't imagine ever being able to starve myself of contact with her the way I did with Harriet. It's early, but we've talked about the future: we want the same things, have the same ideas about how the next few years are going to progress.

I'm seriously thinking about suggesting we should move in together - I know it's early at six weeks, but it feels right. I think she's the one. This is the real thing.

A while ago, I found myself daydreaming about Harriet - about all the things that had happened, with her and Lee, her and the two boys... But it wasn't really Harriet I was thinking about. I kept picturing those scenarios, but it was Emily I imagined living through them. A one-off daydream might be nothing to worry about, but I've started having them every day now. I'll have flashes of these daydreams on the train to work, in meetings. Sometimes they even keep me awake at night.

They leave me sweaty and excited, aching.

My first thought was to keep it quiet, not ruin things the way I did with Harriet. But it's clear that's not going to work. The dreams are closing in on me, pressing in on my brain and my consciousness, leaving me in no doubt that this has to happen.

I just have to figure out a way to get the ball rolling.





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