His Girlfriend Doesn't Know Ch. 08

His Girlfriend Doesn't Know He'd Rather Fuck Me Than Her

My roommate Liam came into my room late at night, while his girlfriend was asleep just down the hall. He made me suck his cock--slow, deep, messy--then bent me over and fucked me like he couldn't help himself. When she knocked on the door, he stayed inside me. Lied to her face. Pulled out, zipped up, and went back to bed like nothing ever happened.

It was late.

The lights were low, warm and golden, casting slow-moving shadows across Liam's bedroom walls. Paige leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, bare legs cold against the hardwood. She wore one of his old gray shirts--oversized, no underwear underneath--just soft cotton clinging to her thighs and a sharp, unreadable look in her eyes.

Liam sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless, hair messy like he'd just rolled out of someone else's bed. His skin was golden from the day's sun, smooth over his chest, that lean swimmer's frame she used to love tracing with her fingertips. His collarbones stuck out like they were begging to be kissed. One hand rubbed the back of his neck, the other braced against the mattress like he didn't know what to do with himself.

"You wanna fuck me before I go?" Paige asked softly.

There was a dare in it. A smirk. A trap, maybe. But Liam just blinked like he hadn't heard her.

"Huh?"

"You've been weird all day," she said, stepping closer, her voice a low hum. "Thought maybe you just needed to get off."

He didn't answer. Didn't stop her, either.

So she kissed him. Slow. Familiar. Lips brushing his like she was trying to bring him back into his body. Her hands slid up his chest, across his shoulders. She climbed into his lap, hips grinding down in slow circles, her breath hot against his cheek.

He kissed her back--but only barely. Enough to keep up the illusion. Not enough to mean it. His hands stayed at his sides. His lips moved, but not with hunger. Not like they used to. His eyes were half-lidded, distant. Like he wasn't kissing her at all. Like he was thinking about someone else.

She felt it immediately. After a minute, Paige pulled back. "Babe?"

"Mm?" Liam mumbled, already reaching for his phone by the pillow.

"You hard?" she asked, more challenge than curiosity.

He didn't reply.

Just flopped back onto the mattress, opened TikTok, and started scrolling like nothing had happened. "I'm tired," he muttered. "Didn't sleep much last night."

She sat there, still straddling him, staring down in disbelief. "Liam."

He didn't even look at her. Just kept scrolling. Video after video. A dog dancing in a hoodie. A guy cutting soap. A girl fake-crying over some viral audio.

Eventually, his eyes fluttered closed. Phone still in his hand. The screen lit his face in faint pulses as he scrolled himself to sleep.

Paige didn't move. She just watched him. Watched his breathing slow. Watched the blue glow of the screen wash over the sharp line of his jaw, his parted lips, his peaceful, oblivious face.

Then his phone dinged. Her eyes dropped.

A message had popped up on the lock screen.

Tommy: remember how deep my throat was earlier? bet you're still tasting it.

Her blood ran cold. Another one came in.

Tommy: wanna finish in my mouth next time, or my ass?

She stared at the phone. Hands trembling. She unlocked it. And there it was.

The whole thread. Page after page of texts.

Liam: you looked so good gagging on it

wanted to bend you over that washer and fuck you stupid

Tommy: should've. i was ready for it. still am.

Liam: fuck paige. i want you.

Her throat closed. She blinked hard, her vision swimming. He had been texting Tommy while she was on top of him. While she was kissing him. He hadn't just pulled away--he'd disappeared completely. Given himself to someone else.

And then she saw the final text.

"Can't wait to fuck you after she leaves."

______________________

His Girlfriend Found Out He Was Fucking Me Behind Her Back

My roommate Liam came into my room late at night while his girlfriend was asleep just down the hall. He made me suck his cock--slow, deep, messy--then bent me over and fucked me like he couldn't help himself. When she knocked on the door, he stayed inside me. Lied to her face. Pulled out, zipped up, and went back to bed like nothing ever happened. Later that night, while he was asleep beside her, Paige picked up his phone. That's when she found the texts.

I woke up to silence. No clanging pans. No Paige yelling from the bathroom about how Liam used her razor. No perfume cloud hanging in the hallway. Just sunlight creeping through the blinds, and the weird chill of a too-quiet apartment.

Then I saw it. A note on the counter. Folded. Sitting right beside the towel Liam had left behind the day she found it. Her handwriting--sharp, fast, pissed.

Fuck you, Liam.

I'm done.

Both of you have been fucking behind my back.

Do not call me. I'm not coming back.

Damn. I read it again, slower this time, like it would hit different. It didn't. Then I grabbed the towel, tossed it on the couch, and walked down the hall toward Liam's room.

His door was cracked open. Light streaming in. And there he was. Flat on his back. Shirtless. Hair all fucked from sleep. One arm above his head, other across his chest. Blanket kicked halfway off his body.

And yeah--tenting hard. Like, seriously hard.

I bit my lip, stepped inside, and let out a low giggle. "Dude."

Liam's eyes opened. Still sleepy, but smirking. "What?"

"She's gone."

He blinked. "Yeah. I know."

I held up the note. "She left this."

He rolled onto his side and grabbed a second folded paper from the nightstand. "She left me one too."

I walked over, sat on the edge of his bed, and snatched it. Read it out loud.

You lied to me.

You lied with your whole body.

I hope he was worth it.

I let out a breath. "Shit."

"Damn she found out," Liam said, eyes on the ceiling.

"Saw the messages. Must've gone through my phone last night."

I was quiet for a second. Then I looked down at his bulge, still pushing up through the blanket. "So... you just gonna lay here and be hot and miserable, or..."

He smirked.

"Shouldn't you call her?" I asked.

"Nah," he said, sitting up. "Fuck it."

I raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"I was tired of sneaking around," he said, leaning closer. "Tired of making excuses. Tired of fucking you with one hand over your mouth." He kissed me--fast and rough and not holding back this time. His hands slid under my shirt, pulling it off. Then down to my shorts, yanking them off with one tug.

"I don't have to lie anymore," he said, eyes dark. "Don't have to whisper. Don't have to wait."

He pushed me back onto the bed and climbed on top. And that was it.

We didn't even think. Just fucked. Hard. Loud. Like all the tension finally snapped. Like two months of secrets were pouring out in sweat and moans and teeth against skin.

He flipped me over. Ate me out like he needed to. Tongue buried deep, fingers digging into my ass, eyes wild. I was already shaking when he slid inside. Long strokes. Deep. Hitting every spot like he knew it. Like he'd been dreaming of this moment. Like he wasn't gonna stop until I couldn't walk straight.

"Fuck, Liam," I groaned, face in the pillow, body clenching around him.

"You feel that?" he hissed, pounding harder.

"Y-Yeah--"

"That's mine now."

I looked back at him, barely able to breathe. "Then fuckin--take it."

He did. Over and over until we both collapsed, dripping in sweat, breathless and ruined.

We laid there after, tangled up, both of us still catching our breath. His hand found mine. I stared at the ceiling, smiling.

And then I said it--

"Anyway... I was tired of sharing that gorgeous cock with her."

I winked.

"My personal dildo."