Broken Vows - A Cuckold Story (Intro Part - 7 Nick)
Copyright© 2026 by BethanyBelow
Chapter 7: The Mouth That Was Denied
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 7: The Mouth That Was Denied - This is Part 7 of my original story, BROKEN VOWS, which is a cuckold story series with some dark undertones. This story is from Nick's perspective as the husband. I only began writing stories a few months ago, so please email, comment, and vote. I appreciate your feedback, as I would like to improve! You can follow on X @WordyBitchBeth & Reddit: u/bethanybelow
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Blackmail Coercion Consensual NonConsensual Reluctant BiSexual Heterosexual Cheating Cuckold Sharing Wife Watching Wimp Husband DomSub MaleDom Humiliation Spanking Analingus Cream Pie Masturbation Oral Sex Spitting Voyeurism
I had both hands buried in her hair, and I was using them. I was not guiding her; I was using my hands to force her head up and down on my cock. My hips were already moving when I realized I was doing it, short, hard thrusts that pushed the head of my cock against the back of her throat on every stroke. She gagged immediately. The sound was wet and ugly and loud even over the music. Her eyes were wide and watering, locked on mine for a second before they rolled again. I did not care.
“Open wider, Sarah,” I slurred. The words came out thick and mean. I was still drunk enough that the name felt right in my mouth. “You never open wide enough. Always pulling off like it is some big fucking favor. Not tonight.”
She made a choked noise around me. Richard had not stopped. I could feel the rhythm of his thrusts through her body every time he drove into her ass. The other man underneath was still going too, slower now, hands locked on her hips. She was shaking between the three of us. Her small hands had come up at some point and were resting on my thighs, not pushing, just there. I ignored them and pulled her head forward until my balls were pressed against her chin again.
“That’s it. Stay there. You have spent twelve years acting like touching my cock is some kind of chore. Like you are too good to swallow. Too good to even finish me. Meanwhile, you were out tonight stroking off some fat stranger in a club and grinding on him until he came on your dress. You like that, Sarah? You like being a slut when I am not around?”
She gagged harder. Spit ran down my cock and onto my balls. Tears were already tracking down her face. I pulled back just enough for her to gasp, then drove in again, deeper. The head slid into her throat, and I felt the tight ring of it close around me. She made a desperate, strangled sound. Her fingers dug into my thighs. I held her there and counted to five in my head while her throat spasmed around me.
“Fuck. Look at you. You never took it for me. Not once. You always stopped before I could finish. Always acted like it was disgusting and I was making you feel dirty. But you will take it now. You will take every inch while they wreck your other holes. That is what you wanted tonight, right? To be used. To feel something. Well, you are feeling it now.”
Richard seemed to have gotten back into the swing of things and slapped her ass again, hard enough that the sound cracked. She jerked, and the motion forced me deeper. I groaned. The other man was muttering something under his breath, his hips still working. I could see her body rocking between the two of them. She was not fighting it. She was taking it. And I used her mouth as if it belonged to me.
“Tell me you are sorry,” I said, pulling out until only the head was between her lips. “Tell me you are sorry for never sucking my cock. Tell me you are sorry for being a frigid bitch for twelve years and then going out and acting like a whore the second someone else wanted you.”
She tried to speak. It came out as a wet, garbled noise around the head. More spit. More tears. I shoved back in before she could finish.
“I can’t hear you slut. Try again. Use that mouth you never wanted to use on me.”
I started fucking her face in earnest. Not the slow, careful way I had always imagined she might do it if she ever got over her hang-ups. No, I went hard. My movements were mean, even cruel, as my hips snapped forward, both hands locked in her hair so she couldn’t pull away. Every thrust drove the head into her throat. She gagged and choked and made wet, desperate sounds that went straight to my cock. Her tears were steady now, running down her cheeks and mixing with the spit that was coating her chin and my shaft. Her nose was running as much as her eyes, thick globs of clear snot that ran down onto the base of my cock. Her small body kept shaking from what Richard and the other man were doing to her, and I could feel every impact.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.