I looked down at my coffee mug, now empty and cold. Roberta laughed softly. “Life rarely goes according to plan, Duncan. But I appreciate your honesty. It can’t have been easy to share all of this with me.”
“Weirdly, it was easier than I expected,” I admitted. “You’re very… non-judgmental.”
“I’m a psychologist,” she reminded me. “And more importantly, I care about my daughter’s happiness. And yours.” She paused, seemed to consider something, then added, “And I understand more than you might think.”
Before I could ask what she meant by that, we both heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. Roberta smoothly adjusted her robe to cover more of her legs just as Steven Chandler appeared in the doorway, yawning and scratching his stomach through his pajama shirt.
“Morning,” he mumbled, his gray hair sticking up in all directions. “Thought I heard voices.”
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Roberta said, her tone shifting effortlessly from our intimate conversation to casual morning chitchat. “Duncan and I were just having coffee and catching up.”
Steven nodded at me, then shuffled toward the kitchen. “Any coffee left?”
“I’ll make a fresh pot,” I said quickly, grateful for the excuse to move. My erection had finally subsided, but I felt awkward sitting there with Steven after everything I’d just told his wife about fucking his daughter.
As I passed him in the doorway, Steven stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. “You and Stacy had a good time at the street festival last night? We lost track of you guys pretty early.”
I froze, unsure how to respond. “Uh, yeah. It was… fun. We met up with some friends afterward.”
Steven nodded, apparently satisfied with my vague answer. “Good, good. Stacy is still sleeping?”
“Yes,” I managed to say. “She was pretty tired when we got back.”
Steven smiled and patted my shoulder. “Well, you young folks have more energy for these late nights than we do. Roberta and I were in bed by eleven.”
From the couch, Roberta caught my eye over her husband’s shoulder and gave me a knowing look. “Yes, but I’m sure Stacy will sleep in quite a bit longer. Last night was… particularly exhausting for her, I imagine.”
The double meaning in her words made my cheeks burn, but Steven just nodded and continued toward the kitchen. “I’m starving. I think I’ll make some eggs. You want some, Duncan?”
“Sure,” I said, following him. “Let me get that coffee started first.”
As I filled the coffee maker with fresh water and grounds, I glanced back into the living room. Roberta was watching me, a small smile playing on her lips. She raised her empty mug in a subtle toast, then mouthed something that looked like “Our secret.”
I nodded gratefully, then turned back to the coffee maker. My mind was reeling from the morning’s revelations—not just reliving the intense night with Rob and Marcus, but discovering that Roberta knew far more than I’d ever suspected. And maybe, just maybe, she had her own experiences with the lifestyle that made her so understanding of ours.
As the coffee began to brew, filling the kitchen with its rich aroma, I felt a strange sense of peace. For the first time, I didn’t feel like I had to hide this part of myself, at least not from everyone. Stacy’s mother knew, understood, and accepted me—accepted us—for who we were and what we needed.
Steven was cracking eggs into a bowl, completely oblivious to the conversation that had just taken place. “How do you like your eggs, Duncan?”
“However you’re making them is fine,” I said, suddenly struck by the surreal normality of the moment. Here I was, making breakfast with my girlfriend’s father after confessing to his wife that I’d licked multiple men’s semen off his daughter’s face just hours earlier.
Life was strange. And despite all the humiliation, despite everything society said I should be ashamed of, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.
–-
Stacy finally woke up around noon, groggy and clearly sore from the night before. We had breakfast with her parents – possibly the most surreal meal of my life, sitting across from Steven while Roberta gave me knowing looks over her coffee cup. By two o’clock, we’d packed up our overnight bags and were headed back to our apartment. The first few miles passed in comfortable silence, Stacy reclining her seat and closing her eyes against the afternoon sun while I navigated the familiar country roads that would take us back to the city.
I kept stealing glances at her. Even with her mascara completely gone, her blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, and wearing nothing but a loose t-shirt and yoga pants, she was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Hard to believe that less than twelve hours ago, I’d watched her take two huge cocks simultaneously while begging for more.
“You’re staring,” she said without opening her eyes, a small smile playing at her lips.
“Can’t help it,” I admitted, turning back to the road. “Just thinking about last night.”
She finally opened her eyes, stretching like a satisfied cat. “Mmm, it was pretty intense, wasn’t it?” She reached over and placed her hand on my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You were so good, Duncan. The way you cleaned me up afterward…” She let the words hang in the air between us.
I felt my cock stir at the memory. “I aim to please.”
Stacy shifted in her seat to face me better. “So, I’m dying to know… did you talk to my mom this morning? You guys were both up early.”
I swallowed hard. No point lying to her. “Yeah, we talked.”
“About?”
“About last night. About us. About the whole arrangement with Rob and Marcus.”
Stacy’s eyes widened for a moment, then she burst out laughing. “Holy shit, Duncan! You told my mother how we celebrated New Year’s Eve?”
My face burned. “She already knew! Or at least she suspected. She kept asking these leading questions, and before I knew it, I was telling her everything.”
“Everything?” Stacy’s voice pitched higher. “Like, everything everything?”
“Pretty much,” I admitted, cringing at the memory. “I told her about the hotel room, the champagne, the double penetration, the horn thing… even about cleaning you up afterward.”
Stacy covered her face with her hands, but I could see she was smiling behind them. “Oh my God. My boyfriend told my mother he licks other men’s cum out of me. This is so fucked up.” She didn’t sound upset, though – more amused than anything.
“She was surprisingly cool about it,” I said defensively. “Very professional, like a therapist. Non-judgmental.”
Stacy lowered her hands, her expression softening. “Of course she was. We’re close. Closer than most mothers and daughters, I guess. I’ve always been able to talk to her about sex stuff. She’s a psychologist. She understands that sexuality is complicated.” Stacy’s fingers traced small circles on my thigh. “Plus, she had her own wild period back in the day. She never told me the details, but I get the impression she experimented with similar things.”
My mind flashed back to Roberta’s knowing smile when I mentioned the black leather chair at the Riverside Hotel. What exactly had she meant when she said some rooms had “specific purposes”?
“Anyway,” Stacy continued, “I’m glad you two talked. It’s better to have it all in the open, at least with her. Dad would probably have a heart attack if he knew.”
I nodded, thinking of Steven’s oblivious smile as he made eggs that morning. “Yeah, let’s keep him in the dark.”
We lapsed into silence for a few minutes, the only sound the soft hum of the car engine and the occasional passing vehicle. Then Stacy spoke again, her voice more serious.
“We’ve never really sat down and talked about the rules of our arrangement, have we? I mean, it just sort of evolved naturally.”
I glanced at her, surprised by the sudden shift. “I guess we haven’t, not formally. Does it need rules?”
“Every relationship does, especially ones with… unconventional aspects.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I think it might be good to get everything out in the open, make sure we’re on the same page.”
“Okay,” I agreed, oddly touched by her concern. “What kind of rules do you want to establish?”
She thought for a moment. “Well, first, I think we should be clear about who I can see and when. So far, it’s just been Rob and Marcus, and always with you present. Is that how you want to keep it?”
My grip tightened on the steering wheel. The thought of her with men I didn’t know, or without me there to watch, made my stomach clench with a mixture of jealousy and arousal. “I… I think I’d prefer to keep it to guys we both know and trust. And yeah, I want to be there.”
Stacy nodded. “That works for me. I like having you watch, anyway.” Her hand moved higher on my thigh, dangerously close to my growing erection. “What about protection? We’ve been pretty lax about that, especially with Rob and Marcus.”
“Actually, I really love seeing that fresh cum pouring out of you?” I said, recalling how these bulls filled her orifices completely.
“I know, it’s so hot!“ she added with a smile. “The best part of this whole thing is to feel those huge loads inside me!“
She smiled, seeming pleased with my response. “And what about your limits? Is there anything that’s absolutely off the table for you?”
I thought about this carefully. “I don’t think I’d be comfortable with them hurting you – like, actually hurting you beyond some light spanking or hair pulling. And I wouldn’t want them to force me to do anything sexual with them directly. I’m fine cleaning up after, but I don’t want their cocks in my mouth or anything.”
“Noted,” Stacy said, nodding seriously. “Though I have to admit, the thought of you sucking one of them while the other fucks me is pretty hot.”
My cock twitched at her words, surprising me. “I… I didn’t say I’d never consider it,” I admitted. “Just not yet.”
“Fair enough.” Her smile turned wicked. “Now tell me, Duncan. What parts of this whole arrangement do you enjoy most? I know you get off on the humiliation, but what specifically drives you crazy?”
I swallowed, finding it hard to put into words the complex tangle of emotions our cuckolding play evoked in me. “I like… I like seeing you completely lost in pleasure. Seeing you take these massive cocks that I know I could never measure up to. I like the feeling of being made to watch, being told I’m not man enough to satisfy you.”
“Go on,” she urged softly.
“I love when they make comparisons,” I continued, my voice dropping to almost a whisper. “When they point out how much bigger they are, how much better they fuck you, how pathetic my dick is in comparison. It makes me feel so small and worthless, but in this weird, liberating way.”
“And the cleanup?” Stacy asked, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You seem to really get into that part.”
I nodded, too aroused now to feel embarrassed. “It’s the ultimate submission. Tasting another man’s cum inside you, knowing he’s marked you in a way I never could. It’s degrading and humiliating, but it’s also like… like I’m reclaiming you somehow, proving that in the end, you still come home with me.”
Stacy’s eyes had darkened with desire. “Fuck, that’s hot,” she breathed. “You want to know what I love about it?”
“Tell me,” I said, my mouth suddenly dry.
“I love the power,” she said immediately. “Not just having multiple men wanting me, but having you all wrapped around my finger. The bulls think they’re in charge, but really, I’m the one pulling all the strings.” She leaned closer, her breath hot against my ear. “I love seeing you on your knees, Duncan. I love how hard you get when they humiliate you, how eager you are to please everyone in the room, including me.”
Her hand finally found my erection, palming it through my jeans. “I love that I can fuck other men right in front of you, and instead of getting mad, you get harder than you’ve ever been in your life. Do you know how rare that is? How special?”
I was so turned on I could barely focus on the road. “I think we’re pretty lucky to have found each other.”
“We are,” she agreed, squeezing my cock through the denim. “And we’re lucky to have my mom’s support, too. Not every mother would understand her daughter having bulls and a cuck boyfriend.”
I laughed despite myself. “Yeah, that was definitely not a conversation I ever expected to have with my girlfriend’s mother.”
“And now that we do have her understanding…” Stacy’s voice took on a dreamy quality. “There’s so much more we could explore.”
“Like what?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Well, I’ve been fantasizing about a bigger group scene,” she admitted. “Maybe four or five guys at once, all taking turns with me while you watch from the corner. Or maybe we could explore some public play – like me giving one of them a handjob under the table at a restaurant while you sit across from us.”
My cock throbbed painfully against my zipper at her words. “Those both sound incredibly hot.”
“Really?“ she asked. “What if I told you as a true cuck, you’ll have to pay for everything? Restaurant, hotel room, cab?“
“That just adds to the humiliation,“ I answered, looking straight at the road but playing these images in my head.
“What about you?” she asked. “Any fantasies you haven’t shared yet?”
I hesitated, then decided to be honest. “I’ve thought about… about them making me wear a chastity cage. Locking me up for weeks at a time, only letting me out when they decide I’ve earned it.”
Stacy’s eyes widened, and a slow smile spread across her face. “Oh my God, Duncan, that’s perfect. We could get you a little pink cage, make you wear it for a whole month. You’d be completely at our mercy.”
“It sounds terrible,” I said, my cock straining painfully against my jeans. “I want to try it so badly.”
Stacy laughed, a delighted sound that made my heart swell. “You’re such a perfect little cuck. I’m so lucky to have found you.” Her hand squeezed my erection again, harder this time. “God, all this talk is making me so wet. And you’re fucking rock hard.”
I groaned, finding it difficult to concentrate on driving. “We’ll be home in about forty minutes.”
“I don’t think I can wait that long,” she said, her voice husky with desire. She looked around at the passing scenery, then pointed ahead. “Pull in there.”
I followed her finger to see an abandoned motel just off the highway, its parking lot cracked and overgrown with weeds. The faded sign read “Pine View Lodge,” though there were no pines in sight and certainly no view worth mentioning.
“Are you serious?” I asked, already slowing down.
“Completely,” she said, her hand still working my cock through my jeans. “I need to taste you right now.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I turned off the highway onto the crumbling driveway that led to the motel’s empty parking lot. The place had clearly been closed for years – windows boarded up, paint peeling, nature slowly reclaiming the property. I parked behind what had once been the office, out of sight from the highway.
As soon as I cut the engine, Stacy was unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning across the center console. Her fingers expertly unbuttoned my jeans and tugged down my zipper. I lifted my hips to help as she pulled my jeans and boxers down just enough to free my aching cock.
“Look how hard you are,” she murmured, wrapping her hand around my shaft. “Just from talking about being humiliated and locked up.” She stroked me slowly, watching my face. “When’s the last time you came, Duncan? Did they let you finish after cleaning me up last night?”
“Technically, yes,” I admitted, breathing heavily as her thumb circled the sensitive head of my cock. “They made me jack off into a paper cup, but that was it.”
“Well,” she purred, lowering her head toward my lap, “I think you’ve more than earned it now. After everything you did for me last night, after being so honest with my mom this morning…” Her hot breath ghosted over my cock, making it twitch in anticipation. “I think my good little cuck deserves a reward.”
Without further preamble, she wrapped her soft lips around the head of my cock and took me into her warm, wet mouth. I groaned loudly, my head falling back against the headrest as pleasure shot through my entire body. It had been so long since I’d felt her mouth on me – Rob and Marcus always insisted I watch without participating, and they rarely allowed Stacy to touch me sexually during our sessions.
“Fuck, Stacy,” I moaned as she began to bob her head, taking me deeper with each downward stroke. Her blonde ponytail bounced with her movements, and I couldn’t resist reaching out to tangle my fingers in her hair, not guiding her, just connecting.
She hummed around my cock, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. Her technique was flawless – she knew exactly how I liked it, alternating between deep, slow strokes and quick, focused attention to the sensitive head. Occasionally she’d pull off entirely to lap at the underside of my shaft, her blue eyes looking up to gauge my reaction.
“Does that feel good, baby?” she asked, her lips shiny with saliva as she stroked me with her hand. “Different from watching me suck Rob and Marcus?”
“So different,” I gasped, my hips involuntarily thrusting up into her grip. “So much better.”
She smiled wickedly. “I don’t know any better. They’re much bigger than you, after all.” Her words sent a jolt of humiliating pleasure straight to my cock. “But you’re mine, Duncan. My perfect little cuck boyfriend.”
With that, she took me all the way into her mouth, her nose pressing against my pubic bone as she swallowed around the head of my cock. The sensation was too much after so long without release – I felt my orgasm building rapidly at the base of my spine.
“Stacy, I’m gonna cum,” I warned, my fingers tightening in her hair.
Instead of pulling away, she doubled down, bobbing her head faster, her hand working the base of my shaft in perfect rhythm with her mouth. I couldn’t hold back any longer. With a strangled cry, I exploded, my cock pulsing as I shot jet after jet of cum into her eager mouth.
Stacy moaned around me, swallowing everything I gave her, her throat working as she gulped down my release. Even after I was completely spent, she continued to gently suck and lick, cleaning me thoroughly until I had to push her away, too sensitive to endure any more stimulation.
She sat up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, a satisfied smile on her face. “Mmm, I’ve missed that. Rob and Marcus taste different.”
“Better or worse?” I couldn’t help asking.
“Just different,” she said diplomatically, but her smile turned teasing. “Though they do give me a lot more to swallow.”
I groaned, half in embarrassment and half in renewed arousal. “You’re insatiable.”
“And you love it,” she countered, leaning in to kiss me deeply. I could taste myself on her tongue, a tangy reminder of what we’d just done.
When we broke apart, she settled back in her seat, looking supremely pleased with herself. “We should get home. I want a proper shower and maybe a nap before we tackle the rest of the day.”
I tucked myself back into my jeans and started the car, feeling more relaxed and content than I had in weeks. As we pulled back onto the highway, Stacy reached over and took my hand, intertwining our fingers.
“I love you, Duncan,” she said, her voice soft and sincere. “Because you understand me and accept me completely.”
I squeezed her hand, overwhelmed with affection for this incredible woman who had unlocked parts of myself I never knew existed. “I love you too, Stacy. More than I ever thought possible.”
The rest of the drive passed in comfortable silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts. But our hands remained linked across the center console, a small but significant reminder that no matter how many other men she might take to her bed, at the end of the day, we belonged to each other.
And somehow, that made everything else – all the humiliation, all the boundary-pushing, all the societal taboos we were breaking – not just acceptable, but perfect.
