Darryl woke to a dark room. Looking at the stars on the stucco ceiling for a moment, he assessed his situation.
Echos of car lights caused bits of light to filter into the room around the blinds as the tires rolled away along the asphalt outside.
His head pounded, but his belly was calm. So far, anyway. As he considered his drinking from the prior day and lost count at three, it was lucky he would only have a headache as proof of the hangover.
The bedside clock changed numbers, announcing to the dark room that it was eighteen minutes before two in the morning.
Checking his mobile on the bedside table, he found that Meg had not texted again after her note at five the evening before.
“You’ve no idea,” the text read. “I’ll be home after work tomorrow.”
“You used to to check in,” he whispered to the phone.
The phone didn’t care.
This new relationship with the dom, Evan, had changed a lot of Meg’s dealings with Darryl.
In their negotiations on potential partners outside their relationship, they had once discussed rules that Darryl felt Meg had simply blown through with Evan. She had changed things without consultation and even seemed surprised when Darryl first complained about it.
She was to check in often, so Darryl knew what she was up to. These check-ins had made Darryl feel part of what she was doing. With Evan that had stopped, and now it was lucky if she checked in at all.
Another item she had skipped with Evan was a picture. Darryl had requested a picture when she was on first dates. The subject of the photo would be Meg but whether she was smiling across the table at her date or sucking her date’s cock, didn’t matter. That she did it helped Darryl, again, feel like he was still in her thoughts. It was now ten dates into the Evan situation, and still, no picture had surfaced. Meg claimed Evan was too private and wouldn’t let her. Darryl was okay with this reasoning, but again she had only given this excuse after he questioned her about it as she was leaving for her fourth rendezvous with Evan.
Lights from another passing car caught Darryl’s eyes, and he followed the trace of them across the ceiling.
The part that bothered him the most was when he had asked her where Evan had cum.
“In me,” she said with a pleasant sigh. She lay on her side with Darryl spooned against her.
“In the condom?” Darryl asked.
“No, he doesn’t want to use condoms.”
Another rule that Darryl had set as a hard boundary was that only his cum would be inside her pussy unless he approved. Being he had not met Evan, there had not been any approval requested nor given. Her admitting this on questioning, left Darryl queasy as he rolled away from her.
Returning to the present, he whispered, “I guess he owns you now.” His hand reached below the covers and found his cock already hard. It was as if many decisions in his life were being made recently, without consulting him. Yet, his cock was hard at the thought of what Evan would be potentially doing to Meg.
The mix of arousal and depression was confusing. He had become an unwilling cuckold from afar.
At first, the strokes were light, but he soon had a solid rhythm.
The penis responded, at full attention, with a quick burst of cum under the sheets.
Darryl flipped the sheets off him and sat on the side of the bed. “Better clean up,” he whispered. Standing, he picked up his tumbler from the side table and padded naked through the shadows to the kitchen to refill his drink. With ice, a third of cola, and a half of rum filling the glass he came back to the bedroom and sat on the bed again. Pulling his feet up, he returned under the sheets.
He knew there was no fault here, much as he wanted to blame her. If any fault, it was his for not accepting the evolution he had helped her create. He wanted her to be independent and free to do as she desired. That it felt like he was no longer part of her basic equation was his own doing.
He sipped at the refreshed drink and pondered out loud, “I wonder if she’s told him she loves him yet?”
After his fourth refill, he passed out again.
“You’re not serious,” Meg said with a smile. The blindfold kept her from seeing any, but she could hear them. Chained to the bed, spread eagle, she had little choice in the matter.
This wasn’t entirely true.
She had all the choice in the world and trusted Evan would respect her use of the safe word if she wanted to stop. She didn’t want to stop, however.
“There are twelve in the room,” Evan cooed. His warm breath washed her earlobe before he nipped at it. “Each of these blokes will take turns fucking you before each completing their orgasmic journey in your mouth.”
“Yum.” It was more a gasp than her voice.
“Are you ready?”