Category: Cheating, College sex, Strai
“Excuse me, miss. Can I take a selfie with you?”
I turned, and my breath caught. A tall, ruggedly handsome man in a worn brown coat stood there—Captain Malcolm “Mal” Reynolds from Firefly, down to the lopsided grin. He looked exactly like Nathan Fillion. My stomach flipped.
“I’m Amber,” I said, smiling before I could stop myself. “Yes. Absolutely.”
I glanced back at Chris. “Babe, can you hold my purse?”
“No problem, Peaches.” My boyfriend, in his Wolverine costume, winked and took my bag.
As a second-year college student, this was my first real spring break away from campus, and I’d gone all out. I’d spent weeks perfecting my X-Men’s Psylocke cosplay: sleek violet hair, a skintight purple-and-black leotard that clung to every curve, high slits racing up my thighs. The fabric was so thin it teased my nipples and pressed right against my pussy with every step. I’d been low-key wet since the moment I put it on this morning. Walking the convention floor, feeling so exposed and powerful, had left me aching.
Mal’s eyes dragged slowly down my body, lingering on my cleavage, my bare stomach, the long stretch of thigh. The raw hunger in his gaze made my clit throb.
He stepped close and slid a strong arm around my shoulders. The solid heat of him pressed against my side. Sailor Mars—his stunning companion with endless legs and a criminally short skirt—snapped the photos.
I posed with him, then did a few solo shots—sword raised, back arched, hips cocked. When Sailor Mars finally handed his phone back, I felt flushed and breathless.
Chris pulled me into a kiss right after. “You look so fucking hot, Peaches,” he murmured.
“Hey,” a female voice called. Sailor Mars had returned, her tiny red skirt barely covering anything. “We’re throwing a party tonight in our suite at the Hyatt. Open bar, good music, fun people. You two should come.” She handed me a card with the room number. “No pressure.”
Chris’s hand settled warmly on my lower back. “Free drinks, babe. Could be fun.”
My mind flashed to Mal’s body against mine. A dangerous little thrill ran straight to my core. I shouldn’t want this. I have Chris.
“Maybe,” I said, biting my lip. “If we’re not too tired.”
###
The suite throbbed with deep, sultry bass. The air was thick with alcohol, perfume, sweat, and the unmistakable sweet-musk scent of sex. Cosplayers grinded on the makeshift dance floor—Harley Quinn riding Deadpool’s thigh, Stormtroopers making out hard in the corner.
“I think we should leave,” I whispered to Chris, clutching his hand. My heart hammered.
“Sure, if you want.” He squeezed back. “Just let me say hi to Sailor Mars real quick.”
I watched him walk over. She was already sandwiched between two Klingons, laughing as one of them boldly slid his hand under her skirt. OMG. I swallowed by saliva. She clearly wasn’t wearing panties.
Then Mal’s eyes locked on mine across the room. That same crooked smile. My pussy clenched involuntarily.
“Drink?” He appeared beside me with two margaritas.
I hesitated, then took one. The alcohol burned pleasantly down my throat. Before I knew it, he’d taken my hand.
“Come on. I want to show you something.”
“My boyfriend is right here,” I protested, voice already shaky.
“I know.” His voice dropped low. “That makes it hotter, doesn’t it?”
This is insane. I love Chris. I’m not this kind of girl. But my feet followed him anyway, heels clicking across the floor.
He led me into the suite’s large bathroom, closed the door, and locked it. The heavy bass vibrated through the walls and up through my bones.
“Turn around,” he said softly. “Hands on the sink. Look at yourself.”
I obeyed, gripping the cool marble, staring at my reflection—flushed cheeks, parted lips, violet hair slightly messy. What the fuck am I doing? Chris is twenty feet away.
Mal pressed against my back. His hard cock ground against my ass through his pants. One hand slid between my thighs and cupped my soaked mound.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed against my ear. “You’re fucking drenched. Does your boyfriend know what a needy little slut you are underneath that costume?”
I’m not a slut, I thought desperately. But my hips rolled against his fingers anyway. Shame burned hot in my chest even as fresh wetness flooded his hand.
He hooked the crotch of my leotard aside. His finger pushed into my slick heat without warning. I gasped sharply, rising onto my toes.
“Oh God… we can’t… Chris is right outside…”
“You keep saying that,” he growled, curling his finger perfectly against my G-spot, pumping slowly, deliberately. The wet, obscene sounds of my pussy filled the bathroom. “But this greedy little cunt is sucking my finger deeper. You’ve been dripping for this all day, haven’t you?”
I whimpered, shame twisting with unbearable pleasure. I’m a terrible girlfriend. I’m disgusting. So why does this feel so good?
He worked me right to the edge, then cruelly pulled his fingers out. I whimpered in frustration.
Then I felt the blunt, hot head of his bare cock nudge my dripping entrance.
No. Stop. This is cheating. This is so wrong—
He thrust forward and buried every thick inch inside me in one long, smooth stroke.
“Ahh—fuck!” The stretch was intense, almost too much. My mouth fell open in a silent cry as he bottomed out, balls pressed tight against my swollen clit.
Mal groaned low. “That’s it. Take every inch. Your boyfriend’s out there having a drink while I’m balls-deep in his girlfriend’s tight pussy.”
He started fucking me harder. The wet slap of his hips against my ass grew louder, faster. I tried to stay quiet, biting my lip until it hurt, but broken, shameful moans kept spilling out of me.
Every thrust dragged me closer. Shame and lust twisted together so tightly I couldn’t tell which was driving me anymore.
Through the door I suddenly heard Chris’s laugh—clear, familiar, happy. The sound hit me like ice water, even as my pussy clenched harder around Mal’s cock.
“I’m gonna— I can’t— Chris is right outside—”
“Cum,” Mal demanded, slamming into me. “Cum on my cock like the cheating whore you are.”
The filthy words hit like a slap. My orgasm detonated violently. I cummed with a strangled cry, pussy spasming wildly around his thick shaft, juices squirting down my thighs. The overwhelming shame of cumming on a stranger’s cock while my boyfriend on the other side of the door only made the pleasure sharper, longer. I shook through wave after wave.
Mal fucked me through it without mercy, then buried himself to the hilt and cummed hard. Pulse after heavy pulse of thick, hot cum flooded deep inside me, splashing against my cervix, filling me until I felt bloated with it.
When he finally pulled out, a heavy gush of his semen poured from my stretched hole, soaking the leotard and running in long, sticky strands down my inner thighs.
I stared at the ruined girl in the mirror: smeared lipstick, wild violet hair, cum visibly leaking from my freshly fucked pussy. I just let a stranger creampie me while Chris was in the next room. I’m such a disgusting slut.
The thought made my pussy clench again, pushing even more of his load out of me.
Mal kissed the back of my neck, tucked himself away, and slipped out with a satisfied smirk. “Good girl.”
I tried to clean up with toilet paper, but it was useless. His cum kept leaking in warm pulses. I pulled the leotard back into place; the soaked fabric stuck obscenely to my swollen lips and clit. Every movement made me feel the mess between my legs.
I stepped out of the bathroom on shaky legs. The party noise crashed over me again. Chris was still laughing with Sailor Mars and the Klingons, drink in hand, completely oblivious. Mal stood nearby, chatting casually, but his eyes met mine with dark, possessive satisfaction.
I walked toward Chris. With every step, thick drops of another man’s cum trickled down my thighs. I clenched hard, trying to hold it in, but more still escaped, cooling on my skin, marking me.
Chris turned and smiled brightly. “There you are, Peaches. Everything okay? You look a little flushed.”
He leaned in to kiss me. I panicked that he’d smell the sex on me, taste it on my tongue.
“Yeah,” I breathed, voice hoarse. “Everything’s… fine.”
But my well-fucked pussy throbbed again, already hungry for more. Mal’s cum was still leaking out of me, and the worst part was… I wasn’t sure I wanted the night to end here.
###
Part two … soon
