Broken Vows - a Cuckold Story (Intro Part 2 - Sarah)
Copyright© 2026 by BethanyBelow
Chapter 1: The Kitchen
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1: The Kitchen - This is part 2 of the introduction to my original story BROKEN VOWS which is a cuckold story series. The first story was from the husband Nick's perspective and laid some of the background. This story is from the wife Sarah's perspective.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma Fa Consensual Reluctant Heterosexual Fiction Cheating Cuckold Sharing Wife Watching DomSub MaleDom Humiliation Rough Spanking Anal Sex Cream Pie Exhibitionism Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Squirting Voyeurism Public Sex Size
I was still on my knees when he told me to swallow. The first pulse hit the back of my tongue, and my throat closed hard. I had never swallowed for anyone before him. Not Nick, not James or the two other men I had been intimate with before I met Nick. The taste was thick and sharp and bitter. I didn’t like the taste or the consistency, but even worse, I hated that I was letting it happen in our kitchen with Nick asleep down the hall. I hated that this was not the first time I had done it. My face burned so hot I could feel it in my ears. I swallowed anyway and was able to get almost all of it down on the second attempt. A little had escaped the corner of my mouth and ran down my chin onto my chest. I stayed where I was, breathing hard through my nose, eyes on the tile, while the rest of it sat heavy on my tongue.
My fingers had paused moving between my legs as I tried to collect my thoughts, and the idea of continuing seemed so gratuitous I could not imagine what I would look like if I did. I rarely touched myself because it felt selfish, but right now my body was screaming for me to continue while my mind told me I had to stop. The kitchen was quiet except for the soft wet sound of my breathing. My knees ached against the cold tile. My jaw ached. Spit and cum shone on my lips and chin.
I felt used. Degraded. The humiliation sat under my skin like heat. This was not my husband. This was a man who had spent the night inside me and had just finished in my mouth. I had gone to my knees and taken him because he had told me to, and I was disgusted with myself for having done that. I kept telling myself the reasons made sense, that I was doing this for the right purpose, but the reasons felt thin when I was still tasting him and feeling how wet I still was. Part of me liked it, and I hated that part. I didn’t recognize her, and I didn’t know what had happened to me.
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