Broken Vows - A Cuckold Story (Intro Part - 7 Nick)
Copyright© 2026 by BethanyBelow
Chapter 8: Cleanup and Questions
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 8: Cleanup and Questions - 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
After a few moments, Richard slapped her ass one more time, hard enough to leave a clear handprint on the already red skin. She yelped and almost fell forward.
“Go get some washcloths,” he told her. His voice was rough but not angry. “Clean yourself up. Grab some beers from the fridge while you are at it and come back. Move.”
She nodded, still coughing, and climbed off the man underneath her. Cum was leaking from her pussy and her ass as she stood. She looked wrecked. Her hair was a mess, her face streaked with spit and tears and cum, thighs shaking. She did not look at me. She just turned and walked toward the hallway, still naked, still unsteady. The man on the floor sat up, wiped a hand across his face, and started pulling his pants back on. Richard did the same; standing up, he wiped his cock on what appeared to be her panties and then tugged his jeans up over his hips without bothering with underwear.
The other man stood, zipped up, and looked at Richard. “Thanks, man. That was ... yeah. I should get going.”
Richard nodded. “Drive safe, Pete. Text me when you get home.”
The guy glanced at me once, still sitting there with my pants around my ankles and my cock out, then shook his head a little and headed for the door. He didn’t say anything. The front door opened and closed. The music was still playing, but quieter now that Richard had turned it down.
Richard dropped into the chair across from me. He looked at me for a long second. My head was still spinning. The alcohol was sitting heavy in my stomach, and my mouth tasted like her spit and the whiskey I had been drinking earlier. I was still half-hard, and the shame was starting to creep in around the edges of the drunkenness.
“What the hell are you doing here, Nick?” he asked. Not angry. Just direct. “It is almost two in the morning. You walk in, do not say a word, and ram your dick in Sammie’s throat while we are in the middle of fucking her. You want to explain that?”
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