How Far Is Too Far?
Copyright© 2025 by DontJudgeMe
Chapter 7
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 7 - David and Jia discover a new kink, but how far will they go?
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Workplace Cuckold Slut Wife MaleDom Humiliation Rough Interracial White Male Oriental Female Masturbation Oral Sex Big Breasts Body Modification Size
Warning: This is a cuck-story, and while it starts as a loving tale, it won’t stay that way. If you’re not into that, please stop reading.
As always a huge thanks to my wonderful wife for ideas, editing and reining me in when I got too crazy. I love you. <3
Please leave a comment if you enjoy the story. It means a lot.
David
I did not sleep well on the couch, not well at all. The dramatic exit had felt right at the moment, but her parting barb about Tom had hurt deeper than I thought it would. I’d never felt so low, so desperately alone, and she didn’t even seem to care.
All night I thought about her and me and our relationship, and how we’d get past this.
I needed to talk to her, really talk to her about this Tom-thing. It was getting out of hand. She’d have to do some damage-control with Madison - make sure she didn’t talk to anyone else. We’d also have to reconnect, just the two of us and finally have some goddamn sex without Tom being in the picture - her and me, and no-one else. And she would have to fucking apologise - admit that she was wrong in disclosing my secrets to outsiders. That was the very least she could do. She should have done so last night already, I was out here waiting for her. Was it really so hard to come out to me and admit she was wrong? She was so goddamn stubborn, but she had to see that I was right.
As for me, I had to decide what I wanted out of the whole cuck-thing? I needed to be completely clear on that before any discussions were held. Did I want to end it? Call it off altogether? That thought filled me with anxiety, and I spent a lot of time mulling it over.
In a way I did. We’d never fought like this before, and me sleeping on the couch really set a bad precedence for the future - especially as we hadn’t spent a night apart in years, way before we got married or even engaged. I didn’t want to be alone, not when I had my wonderful wife so close.
On the other hand ... it was still so exciting. Imagine if I could watch, really watch them together. It had been wild beyond words that night when she finally surrendered to him and let him have her.
Just her talking about it, telling me about it was so hot ... though right now she probably didn’t want to talk to me about anything.
As the sun rose, I knew what needed to be done. We needed to make up. She needed to apologise, yes, but so did I.
She was my best friend and the love of my life. We couldn’t stay mad at each other, it wouldn’t do. This stupid spat was just a minor inconvenience, and we’d get through it stronger than ever.
And she’ll tell me what she did with Tom last night a small, eager voice whispered in my ear.
Well, that too.
And then we needed to have the talk about the whole situation.
Jia
My mood hadn’t improved during the night. I couldn’t deal with David right now. I just couldn’t. He was awake in the living-room, I could hear him, but I stayed in the bedroom with my phone. He could come to me if he had something to say.
My eyes were tired and itchy - most likely a combination of lack of sleep and me not washing off my make-up last night, as I’d been too distraught with the whole ordeal. A bad idea generally, but made even worse by the fact that I had twisted and turned all night. I’d been so angry with David and his unfair outbursts and childish antics. Sleeping on the couch because he was mad at me? Please! What a level of maturity he displayed.
But, I had to grudgingly admit, I’d also missed him. Sleeping without him was a strange, unfamiliar feeling, and I didn’t care for it. It was all cold and lonely, and I needed the sound of him breathing to fall asleep.
It was his choice though. If he preferred the couch, then he could be my guest. He knew where the bed was, and if he wanted to sleep in it, all he had to do was come back to me.
But oh no ... he’d expected me to come crawling and beg him to return. Well, that hadn’t happened, and it never would. I loved him but he couldn’t treat me like that.
He didn’t own me, and it seemed I had to remind him of that.
I had agreed to meet Tom at his friend’s tattoo-parlour at 10 - apparently he’d open up just for us on a Sunday. Tom must have an extremely loyal friend, which surprised me - he didn’t seem to be a guy to inspire loyalty. I’d have to get dressed if I wanted to be on time, and it really wouldn’t do to show up with last night’s make-up. Or rather, the quick make-up I’d applied at Tom’s before going home last night, seeing as how he’d ruined the first one by shoving that big, fat cock of his down my throat.
The memory made me all giddy inside. It was strange how I’d gone from a no-oral policy to wanting to suck that monster, but really ... it just felt so right in my mouth.
I shook that happy memory away and went to the bathroom to wash myself and apply a quick layer of mascara, eye-shadow ... and just a touch of lip-stick.
By the time I was clothed and ready, I was late anyway.
I hurried through the house, saw David sit up, take in my dressed state and frown, and I sighed. Of course he was mad already.
“I’m going out,” I said in a clipped tone.
“Wait, Jia ... we need to talk,” he insisted.
Oh, now he wanted to talk. He’d had all morning but now that I came to him, we could discuss the situation.
“When I get back,” I dismissed him. His mouth opened and closed in surprise, and he stared at me wide-eyed, looking like a fish on land.
“Jia-” he began.
“Later, David,” I snapped and moved out into the hallway.
“Are you going to see Tom?!” he called after me, a distinct accusatory note in his voice.
I didn’t answer, just kept going. Found a pair of shoes and a light jacket and was out the door before he could follow me to ask more questions.
Childish, maybe, and it might come back to haunt me later, but it felt extremely satisfying cutting him off like that.
“You’re late,” was the first thing Tom remarked when I entered the small studio called ‘Inked In’. Wow, did I know no graceful men?
“Sorry,” I muttered but gave him a challenging look. The dynamic felt different here than last night or the times at the office. There was no sexual gratification on the horizon, and I didn’t need him for anything. We were just two ... well, not friends, not lovers, two ... acquaintances meeting.
He sensed it too and narrowed his eyes at me but didn’t say anything.
“Hey, I’m Spencer,” the small, fat man next to Tom introduced himself, either oblivious to the charged tension between Tom and myself, or exceedingly tuned into it and eager to break it. Whichever it was, he extended his hand, and I shook it hesitantly. He had a strangely soft voice for such a broad figure, and his grip was limp.
“Jia,” I answered and really looked at him. He was my height, fat and with a long, unkempt beard and a bald head. His large glasses made his eyes look strangely round, and he had an easy smile. All in all, he seemed a nice, harmless guy.
Although, as his eyes slid appreciatively across my chest, maybe not that harmless. Oh well, it’s not as if he was the first guy to address my chest rather than my face. Even in the boring, old top I’d thrown on, my boobs were noticeable. But then again, I’d known this would happen when I asked David for the surgery.
“So, Jia, Tom says you want some ink? A flower, hmm?” he asked. His eyes lingered on my hand for a second ... no, not my hand. My wedding-band. This outsider knew I was married and not to Tom. Should I have taken off my ring?
No. Never.
“Yes,” I nodded to his question. I ignored the unwelcome thoughts about what he knew and didn’t know about my marital status and fished my phone out of my bag. A few clicks later, I showed him the image I’d found last night, when I couldn’t sleep anyway. It was a pink lily on a light green stem with three green leaves.
Spencer looked at it with a knowledgeable expression and nodded slowly.
“And on your-”
“On her pussy!” Tom interrupted with a jovial laugh, and Spencer quickly looked at him with raised eyebrows.
“Not on my ... there,” I corrected coldly, uncomfortable with the P-word in-front of this stranger. Was Tom being irksome just to embarrass me? Or would he really want a tattoo on my vulva?
It didn’t matter though. I wasn’t getting one there. Only sluts and trollops did that kind of thing.
“I was thinking on my shoulder. Around here?” I pointed to the front part of my shoulder around my collarbone, “and maybe around this big?” I held my thumb and index-finger about ten centimeters apart.
“Bah, bigger, kitten,” Tom grunted, “she needs it bigger.”
“Tom-” I sighed but didn’t get far.
“She really likes it big,” he winked and grinned at his own stupid joke. When Spencer looked at me with interested eyes, I found myself blushing.
I sighed. Why was Tom being such a cretin?
“Okay, like this then,” I grumbled and spread my fingers further apart, my thumb touching the top of my boob, and Spencer nodded thoughtfully. Since Tom didn’t have any more jives, we began the process.
David
This had all gone wrong. Jia wasn’t picking up her phone, didn’t answer my texts and hadn’t given any information about her whereabouts.
Once again I found myself pacing the house, fighting the ever-rising panic in my chest. I had to be logical, had to maintain control.
She hadn’t answered me when I asked if she was going to Tom ... which could mean that ... she did go to him? She didn’t?
I thought about driving to Tom’s place - I could find it in some company database on my laptop or just on social media, perhaps - but discarded the idea. What would I even do there? Just look for her car? And if I found it? What then? Come to her rescue or something? It wasn’t like she was being held against her will, was it?
And even if I did swoop in to save the day ... Tom was pretty big and pretty strong. I doubted I could take him in a fight. Maybe with a surprise attack or ... or I might draw out the fight and tire him, like in a duel or something from a fantasy novel.
Most likely though, I’d get my ass kicked, and then where was I?
So I stayed back, imagining what Jia was doing. Getting fucked in her car. Getting fucked in Tom’s apartment. Getting fucked somewhere public.
Getting fucked by Tom, basically. And it drove me crazy with arousal and despair. I didn’t want her to go to him because she was mad at me, I wanted her to go to him as a part of our game. This was a completely different situation!
I went for a run to burn off some energy. I cleaned the house to occupy my mind. I paced some more because I couldn’t stop myself, and all the while the fear and worry and arousal kept nagging me. Why was she doing this to me?
I kept calling, kept texting. Had she turned off her phone? Had Tom turned off her phone? Was he holding her prisoner? Was she in danger?! Was he-
No. No, this was stupid. She was mad at me. Mad that she couldn’t tell other people my secrets willy nilly. So she was punishing me.
It was so silly. It was so immature. And it was so unlike Jia, to be honest. What was going on with her, she was normally so mature. I’d never seen her act so childish before. Then again, I’d never really seen her angry with me before, not like this at least.
Panicky thoughts and confidence-shattering doubts, mind-numbing fear and agonising anxiety, sprinkled with some erotic fantasies, that was my Sunday, and it was horrible. I needed Jia to be here, to talk to me. I couldn’t wait for her to come home. Because she was coming home ... right?
Jia
Getting a tattoo hurt. The initial stinging became a dull, constant ache that was made so much more irritating since I couldn’t rub it.
Spencer was intensely focused on his work, only at times distracted by an ‘accidental’ brush against my boobs. I’d told him off the first couple of times and he’d profoundly apologised ... and then done it again five minutes later. Tom hadn’t reacted, and I absolutely refused to ask him for help in policing his friend. By now Spencer had worn me down, and I didn’t even care anymore, I just wanted this over with.
Besides, I had more important things to think about than some light groping. It wasn’t until the needle pierced my skin for the first time, I’d realised that ... this might not be the best idea, or even a good one. This was in fact a very permanent decision, one I’d have to endure for the rest of my life. Did I even want a tattoo? Was I getting this just to send a message to David? How would he react? He’d never liked tattoos and didn’t have any himself.
But he couldn’t make decisions for me and my skin. He didn’t own me. If I wanted a tattoo, what could he really say? Especially when I presented him with a fait accompli. Maybe he’d complain and whine, but it wasn’t like Spencer had a return-policy. Probably he would like it when I told him that Tom had wanted me to get it. His little penis would get all hard and he’d look at me with shame-filled eyes and-
My cruel musings were interrupted when Spencer brushed my right boob again, with his free hand this time, lingering for a little while, his fingers closing around my nipple for juuust a second. I’d pulled my top off and he’d pushed the bra-string down, and the cup had apparently sagged down to let the little lady out into the free air.
I was about to say something but he instantly let go ... and I didn’t have the energy. He was almost done. Let him have his fun, it was harmless after all, compared to what Tom had put me through just last night. The little guy probably didn’t get a lot of action either - women don’t tend to go for short, fat, nervous-looking geezers.
The needle kept humming away, the pain and irritation kept growing, Tom kept staring at his phone only to now and then look over at the flower taking shape on my shoulder and breast, Spencer kept his focus on his works - for the most part at least - and I kept wondering whether or not this was a good idea.
“There ... all done,” Spencer finally said and got one last fondle in on my boob before straightening up.
I looked at the tattoo on my shoulder. It was beautiful. The lily looked so lifelike, so pretty, and I couldn’t help but smile at the charming picture. Even though my skin was swollen and drops of blood were oozing out at the left side, it was pretty. Fortunately, Tom hadn’t exaggerated Spencer’s skills, and I was right grateful for that.
At least the pain in my shoulder and the growing head-ache would be for something worthwhile.
I listened to Spencer explaining the basics of aftercare, and he gave me a ‘second skin’ as he called it, a sheer plastic-layer he put on me like a band-aid.
“How much do I owe you?” I asked as I found my phone. It hadn’t occurred to me to ask for a price beforehand - how out of balance was I? David wouldn’t be pleased if the price was too steep but no matter. It wasn’t his money. He earned more than me (by a fair margin), so he paid for most expenses, but I paid my share, and I had my own money. I could pay for the tattoo, even if David would get his panties in a twist about the cost.
“Ehh...” Spencer nervously looked at Tom.
“Don’t worry about it, kitten. I got you,” he said, acting the gallant gentleman. Well, except for the pet-name, that wasn’t very gentleman-like.
“I’m not sure-” I began, not really liking this. I didn’t want to be in Tom’s debt. There was something gloomy about that, something unappealing. Like, he took care of me, maybe expecting something in return?
Admittedly, there was also something deeply appealing in this scenario, and my little lady down-stairs was highly interested, but I wasn’t about to open that particular can of worms.
“It’s already been arranged,” Spencer said in his weak little voice. Not a lot I could do then, was there? Tom took my hand and we went out the door, saying our goodbyes as we left.
I needed to go home. Or, well, first I needed to visit a pharmacy and get that creme Spencer had mentioned, then home and rest. Or, well ... home and have another fight with David. Then rest.
When we made it to my car though, instead of saying goodbye or making plans to meet up again later, Tom simply got in the passenger-side.
“Eh...” I wondered what was going on now.
“So, kitten finally got some ink, huh?” he smirked.
“Yes, I ... guess,” I mumbled, not knowing what to say, considering I was still feeling ambivalent about my new ‘ink’. I wanted to rub it but couldn’t. I did the next-best thing instead and played with my nose-stud.
“Come here,” he said and leaned in, and suddenly we were kissing. I wasn’t sure if that was what I wanted either. After all David hadn’t ... approved of this.
But a little kissing wouldn’t hurt him. He wouldn’t mind.
“Let’s go to my place. I have some left-over creme you can use,” he said, and alarm-bells started going off in my head. If we went to his place, I wouldn’t just get creme. Or rather, I’d get a very different kind of cream out of this strong, dominant man. And that ... that seemed like a step too far. If David wanted me to make love ... to get fucked by Tom that was all fine and good. But right now, he probably didn’t want that. Honestly, with the pain in my shoulder and the unnatural stiffness from sitting in the same position for too long, I wasn’t even in the mood for sex. Although ... well, I could probably be persuaded.
“I ... can’t,” I murmured and stuck my tongue back into his mouth. It felt so exciting when he sucked on it.
“Hm,” Tom broke the kiss and pulled back into his seat, his brow furrowed, “why not?”
“I ... I have to get home to my husband. He doesn’t know where I am,” I admitted truthfully. I hadn’t looked at my phone since I arrived at the tattoo-parlour, and there had already been quite few messages back then.
Tom looked at me with a displeased expression for a good long while, and I felt all confused. Why did it bother me so much that he was unhappy with me? It shouldn’t! He was just a large cock and some good orgasms, nothing more. David was the man in my life.
I had left David at home, angry and worried with hardly a care. Tom looking at me like this made me feel deeply uneasy. That seemed wrong, like my priorities were out of sync.
Slowly Tom nodded, and I felt a wave of relief.
Then he moved his hand to my mouth and stuck out his index-finger. This again? I sighed and wrapped my lips around his finger, showing my submission to him. Licking and sucking on his finger like his good little girl, and he nodded, pleased, and I felt myself getting aroused. It was rather exciting to submit to him like this, though I still struggled with why.
Then he moved his finger out of my mouth and down to his pants, which he unzipped to pull out his large, beautiful cock. My eyes were instantly glued to it, and not just because it was a bizarre action. It was strange, but ... I longed for it. Maybe we could go to his place? Be quick about it? It was the wrong choice but it sure was tempting...
“Your Daddy here just gave you a nice, expensive gift, kitten. I think you need to make it up to him,” he said slowly.
What the ... well, pardon my French, fuck?
“What?” I asked. Where did this Daddy-rubbish come from? David had tried that once too, and I’d not cared for it then either. It was demeaning and humiliating and put the woman on the same level as a child while elevating the man to the authoritative position of a parent. Not a good precedent to set.
“You heard me,” he said sternly, and my indignation withered under his unflinching gaze. Instead, my nipples hardened and my ... my pussy grew moist.
“You want me to...” I gestured towards that remarkably handsome piece of meat that hung out of his pants. I tried to sound aloof but it came out a little more ... eager than I had anticipated. Instead of the outrage I was going for, I might have sounded keen on the idea.
“I want you to show how grateful you are,” he simply stated.
I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t! David hadn’t approved of this. It’d be equivalent to cheating, or at least almost.
But it looked so tempting. It was large but not quite hard yet ... I could almost feel it in my mouth, feel it gain its strength as I venerated it.
“You’re grateful, ain’t ya, kitten? Grateful that your Daddy takes care of you?” his hand was in my hair, stroking me and gently pushing me downwards. I didn’t resist, though I easily could have. Instead I allowed him to push me across the handbrake, my upper-body stretching from my seat to his.
I really shouldn’t do this ... I wanted to, oh my, how I wanted to, but I shouldn’t. It would feel so good, and it would only be right to show him how much I cared, but I shouldn’t. Slowly, I lowered my head, his mighty, veiny cock coming closer and closer. This was so wrong. Anyone might catch us! I’d parked somewhat private but anyone might come by. I was a private person, I didn’t even want to have sex in the living-room, let alone a parking-lot.
“I ... I...” I stammered, trying to find the words to resist but none came.
Finally, I was at crotch-level, his big, fat cock right there, filling my vision. What choice did I have in the end?
I opened my lips and allowed his mighty head inside. It tasted like salt and sweat, and I briefly wondered if he’d washed himself since our encounter last night.
Probably not. Not that it mattered. I wasn’t that prim and prudish woman anymore that didn’t understand the wonders of sucking cock and was afraid it was dirty.
I had gained some ... experience since then, some perspective.
“Mhm...” I moaned as I let my tongue slide across the bulbous head, licking and tickling him. It felt good. It felt right.
My long, black hair fell down and covered the outside world - there was only me and the cock now. I was all alone with it.
As much as I wanted to draw out and enjoy the experience, I couldn’t dally. We were still in public, and I needed to hurry. He’d get his blowjob, I’d go to the pharmacy, I’d get the fight with David over with and then, finally, I could rest. That was the plan.
I lowered my head, swallowing more of his thick meat, letting the huge head into my throat, ignoring the gagging.
“Oh fuck, it feels good, kitten,” he grunted.
My small hand wrapped itself around his fat shaft and I found a rhythm, sucking, stroking, loving it. Taking as much of his meat as I could, giving him as much pleasure as I could.
“Yeah, like that, kitten. Show Daddy some love...”
I ignored his stupid Daddy-talk and focused on his delicious cock. I licked, I sucked, I gagged, I made disgusting sounds in my throat like a porn-star, and he loved it.
“Fuck, it’s good. Fuuuck...”
That’s the kind of sounds a girl wants to hear when she has her lips wrapped around a cock, let me tell you. Tears ran down my cheeks and I desperately wanted to wipe my nose but I carried on, giving it the pleasure it deserved.
Suddenly a sharp pain in my scalp as he grabbed my hair and pulled me off him. He forced my head back, making me look up at him.
“Who’s your Daddy?” he asked and for good measure he grabbed his cock and slapped me on the lips with it, “who’s your Daddy?”
For crying out loud! I’d never had a daddy - my father had always been appa, the Korean word for father. And I didn’t want a daddy either! Still waiting impatiently for a reply, Tom slapped me again with that beautiful cock, leaving wet marks of my own saliva on my face.
“You are,” I admitted quietly, if only to get him to stop, so I could continue my task. My delightfully sexy task...
“That’s right, bitch,” he grunted and stuck his cock back in between my lips where it belonged.
“Suck Daddy’s dick now, kitten.”
Well, what did he think I had been doing when he interrupted me? But nevertheless, I got back into it, taking him deep. I bobbed my face up and down, milking the marvellous cock with my lips, mouth and throat. I found a good rhythm and kept going and going and going. Breathing through my nose as best I could - which wasn’t easy, as the right nostril felt clogged - I served his mighty weapon.
“Yeah. Yeah!” he grunted. How long had I been sucking him by now? No idea. But he seemed to be getting close.
“Fucking kitten, take that cock ... take it! God, you love big, white dick, don’t ya! Fucking always knew you would!”
I could hardly argue that point - I did love his big, white cock. Not that race mattered much to me, not anymore. David had cured me of that. Before him, I’d never considered ending up with anyone but a Korean but he’d stolen my heart.
And here I was, giving another man what I had never given him. It was all so weird, so twisted.
“Fuck!” Tom hammered up into my mouth, making me forget all about anything other than the cock that was now deep in my throat, deeper than was pleasurable or even tolerable. He grabbed my head to prevent me from pulling off and fucked my face.
“Take! Your! Daddy’s! CUM!” he roared the last word out and sent a shower of semen deep into my mouth and throat, making me cough and gag and struggle to breathe. He held me there for a second until he relaxed, and I managed to wrestle myself off him. I almost threw up. My mouth was full of semen that I forced down, the salty, tangy, slime felt disgusting as it slid down my throat. Luckily, the first couple of spurts had been shot directly down my throat, so I only had the after-burner to content with.
I swallowed again and again and wished I had something to rinse my mouth with. A bottle of water or something, anything.
“That was good, kitten,” Tom smiled down at me, “you’ve come a long way from that prissy little bitch, huh?” His words echoed my own thoughts, and I couldn’t help but smile. His praise felt surprisingly good.
“Thanks,” I muttered with a shy little smile.
His hand went under my chin and forced my head up to look at him.
“Thanks...?” he asked expectantly.
I knew what he wanted. Of course I knew. Why were men such silly creatures?
“Thanks, Daddy,” I said in a small voice and narrowly avoided rolling my eyes.
“That’s a good girl,” he grinned and patted me on the head. Then he gave me a kiss on my hair, put his dick away and left my car with a merry “see you Wednesday!” and slammed the car-door behind him.
David
Finally Jia’s car rolled up the driveway and into the garage. She was home - at last. I’d been waiting for hours, and it’d been hell. Part of me was endlessly relieved that she hadn’t left for good, but another, more dominant part was furious with her for even taking off in the first place, for making me scared that she wasn’t coming back and for ignoring me all day. Of course, the whole Madison-situation was the cherry on top that was still simmering in the background.
I waited for her in the living-room, refusing to come and meet her in the hallway, though my heart was aching to see her again.
“Hey,” she said carefully when she appeared in the door-way. She sounded tired but also guarded. I was obviously not the only one prepared for a fight.
“Where’ve you been?” I asked, jumping straight into it, without even a greeting - there wasn’t room for niceties in my current state of mind. I managed to keep my voice somewhat under control, though it sounded a smidgen wounded.
That’s when I noticed the weird plastic on her shoulder that her black top didn’t quite cover. What was that? A bandage or something?! Was she hurt?!
“What happened?”
Before she could answer, I’d moved closer to study it. It look like one of those fake tattoos that I’d helped give my nephew last summer. The ones you rub cold water onto until the image has been transferred to the skin.
Only, I doubted it was fake.
She stayed silent while I came to this conclusion and met my gaze with a worried expression when my eyes widened in realisation.
“You got a tattoo?” I asked, utterly bewildered. Of all the things I had imagined her doing, this hadn’t even been close.
Honestly, most of them had been of her in various sexual acts with Tom but even so. This was ... this was ... what was this?
“Yes,” she simply answered. Wow, thanks for the clarification.
“So,” I said and had to fight to remain calm and reasonable, “I’ve been worried sick about you all day, and you were out getting a fu- ... a tattoo?”
She didn’t miss my correction or the building anger, and she narrowed her eyes.
“You don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself,” she defended herself in a cold tone.
“Oh, come on, of course I’m gonna worry! I didn’t know where you were! I kept thinking you were out with Tom!” I exclaimed.
“I was,” she said with an infuriating coolness and crossed her arms across her chest in a defensive position.