The Weight of Want Pt. 03

Introduction:

This is part 3 so... go read the first 2 if you want the full story.

It started with a video. Just one.

Milan didn't expect it to change everything the way he saw his wife, the way he saw himself. But watching Nevena with another man didn't make him jealous. It made him obsessed.

At first, it was just about control. About holding back. About edging to the sound of her voice as she whispered instructions from another room. But the more he gave up, the more she took. And soon, it wasn't about porn anymore. It was about training. About obedience. About surrendering to something he never thought he'd crave.

And Nevena? She's not just playing along. She's building something. Testing limits. With every video, every denied orgasm, every quiet humiliation, she's reshaping their marriage into something raw, unfiltered, and dangerously intimate.

Now, with Stefan back in the picture and the rules rewritten completely, Milan isn't just watching.

He's being rewritten.

A slow burn descent into power, pleasure, and the brutal beauty of giving in.

If you start watching...

One wife. One bull. One husband who can't stop stroking to what he swore he'd never allow.

Welcome to JoI Training: The Cuck Descent.

Watch. Obey. Ache.

If you can handle it.

***************************************************************************************************

Weeks Later

It started slowly, the way most habits do.

Not with a climax.

But with a memory.

A flicker of her tongue on another man's cock.

The smirk in her voice as she whispered "You're watching, aren't you?"

The sound of her moan raw, real as she bounced on something too big to be his.

It haunted Milan.

Not in a nightmarish way.

Not with guilt.

But with need.

It played in the back of his mind during work meetings, idle drives, shower steam fogging the mirror. He'd catch himself zoning out, eyes glazed, cock slowly stiffening in his pants without touching it just thinking.

About her.

About them.

About how real it had become.

At first, he thought he could ride the wave by revisiting the videos Nevena had sent him the blowjob, the countdown, the final cumshot painting her face in thick streaks. He'd watch it under his blanket, hand already wrapped around his cock before he hit play.

But it wasn't enough.

Not anymore.

The orgasm came too quickly, too cheaply. There was no chase.

And Milan... he needed the chase now.

That's when he fell into it.

JoI.

Jerk Off Instructions.

He didn't even know the acronym the first time he stumbled across one just clicked on a thumbnail of a soft voice and lips painted red, whispering:

"Good boys don't rush. Stroke when I say... not before."

It stopped him cold.

It wasn't porn, exactly. It was something between porn and hypnosis. A voice in the dark. A leash around his cock. Women telling him when he could touch himself, when to stop, how to breathe, how to edge, how to ache.

Milan obeyed.

Almost involuntarily.

One stroke. Stop. Breathe. Two more. Stop.

It made his cock hurt in the best way.

He didn't come that first night.

He didn't want to.

He lay there, panting, soaked in pre cum, cock twitching, feeling like he'd just confessed a secret to someone invisible.

The next night?

He came harder than he ever had.

Soon, his phone's algorithm caught on.

His feed flooded with suggestions: split screen edits, cum denial captions, women stroking huge dildos with smug voices and countdowns.

Some of them called it "training."

Some promised ruined orgasms.

Some... didn't let you cum at all.

Milan started collecting them like artifacts, curating playlists, learning rhythms. His cock had favorites now. Phrases that made it throb without warning.

"Don't stroke until I say."

"That's it, ruin it for me."

"Imagine it's my hand and you're not allowed to cum unless I say so."

He wasn't watching porn anymore.

He was consuming commands.

And Nevena?

She noticed.

Of course she did.

She always noticed.

It began subtly: the way Milan started spacing out during their makeout sessions. How he'd gasp when she said something casually dominant like "Don't you dare finish yet." His cock would jerk in her hand like a reflex, pre cum slick and sticky before she'd even touched him properly.

But it was the night she caught him in the bathroom that confirmed everything.

She woke up alone.

Their bed was half warm, the sheets ruffled. At first, she assumed he was just getting water, maybe working late. But when she padded quietly down the hall, she saw the light under the door that thin strip of betrayal.

She stepped closer.

And heard it.

Not moaning. Not porn.

Whispers.

A female voice soft, commanding.

"You're not allowed to cum yet. Not yet. Not until I say so."

The audio crackled faintly.

Muffled breathing.

The wet, unmistakable rhythm of skin on skin.

Nevena's breath hitched. Her hand fell to the waistband of her sleep shorts.

She opened the door a sliver.

And there he was.

Milan. On the closed toilet lid.

Earbuds in.

Boxers around his ankles.

Eyes closed.

Hand stroking so slowly painfully slow, like every inch was agony.

He was edging.

Not even trying to finish.

He was obeying.

Nevena watched for a long minute the way his jaw clenched, the way his hips barely moved, like he was desperate to stay still and listen.

Something snapped inside her.

Not jealousy.

Not even pride.

Power.

She was soaking through her shorts in seconds, and she didn't even touch herself.

After that, she started playing a game of her own.

Leaving her robe open just enough to show she wasn't wearing panties.

Bending over in front of him, then walking away without saying a word.

Asking him questions like:

"You've been watching those countdown videos again, haven't you?"

"You like having someone tell you how to touch your cock, baby?"

And when his eyes fluttered shut, she knew she was right.

Milan was being trained.

Not just by porn.

By her.

By her absence.

By her permission.

One night, it all clicked.

She'd come home from work late and found him on the couch red faced, earbuds in, hand under the blanket. When he saw her, he yanked the covers up like a teenager caught mid fantasy.

But she didn't scold him.

She crawled onto the couch, pulled the blanket down, and whispered:

"Keep watching."

He blinked. "W what?"

She leaned in, lips brushing his ear.

"You're gonna watch your video while I stroke your cock, baby. But you're not allowed to cum. Not until the countdown ends. And if you do... I'll stop touching you for a week."

The look in his eyes?

Wrecked.

Nevena took the phone from his hand. Found the video. Hit play.

A woman's voice poured out in soft, firm rhythm.

"Stroke once. Stop. Stroke again. That's it. Just like that..."

Nevena mirrored every instruction with her hand.

Slow.

Precise.

Cruel.

Milan gasped.

"F fuck, Nevena "

"Shhh," she whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Obey. Be a good boy."

He lasted nine minutes.

Came with a broken sound, cum spilling in hot, messy spurts over her hand.

He apologized instantly, flushed and humiliated.

But Nevena didn't scold him.

She licked her hand clean.

Smiled.

And whispered, voice dripping with approval:

"Looks like we'll need to start training you properly."

And from that night on...

Milan wasn't just watching JOI videos.

He was living one.

And Nevena?

She was scripting it.

Every glance.

Every order.

Every ruined orgasm.

She was building something. Testing the limits.

Of him.

Of herself.

Of their marriage.

Because beneath her teasing smile, something darker had started to bloom:

If I can make him this weak... this obedient...

What else can I make him do?

It didn't take long for Nevena to learn the rhythm of Milan's addiction.

The videos were like spells each one pulling him deeper into his own surrender.

She started recognizing the types he liked best: the soft voiced dommes who praised while they ruined; the ones who whispered "you're doing so well" while dragging out the ache to unbearable levels.

She studied the captions too.

"Try not to cum."

"Stroke only on the beat."

"Ruin yourself for me."

Each phrase burned into Milan like a brand. He'd whisper them sometimes in his sleep. And Nevena, wide awake beside him, would smile.

Because this wasn't just his thing anymore.

It was theirs.

One rainy evening, she called him into the bedroom.

Milan stepped through the doorway, towel around his waist, still damp from the shower. His cock was already half hard, like his body knew what she wanted before she said it.

But Nevena didn't say anything at first.

She just sat at the edge of the bed in one of his button down shirts nothing underneath scrolling through her phone with her legs crossed, a slow smirk tugging at her lips.

"Close the door," she said eventually, not looking up.

He obeyed.

"Get on the bed."

Again, no hesitation.

Milan lay back, swallowing thickly, towel slipping open across his hips.

Nevena finally looked at him. Her eyes gleamed.

"I want to play a game."

She climbed onto the mattress slowly, straddling his legs not touching his cock, just near it.

Then she held up her phone.

On the screen: a video of another woman's hands.

Stroking a thick dildo in perfect rhythm. And goon captions edits pop up.

"Match my pace. One stroke every two seconds."

"You're not allowed to cum until I say the word 'release.'"

Milan groaned.

"Please..."

Nevena giggled softly.

"Already begging, baby? We haven't even started yet."

She tapped the screen. Play.

Then reached behind her and pulled something from under the pillow: a small, new toy. Silicone. Flesh colored. Realistic.

A pocket pussy.

His eyes widened.

Nevena bit her lip.

"Surprise."

He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

She lubed the toy slowly, deliberately, fingers gliding over the fake entrance, smearing slick all around the lips and inner walls. The sound was obscene.

"Since you like being told how to jerk off..." she whispered, lowering the toy over his cock, "why not let me help?"

She slid it down his shaft in perfect rhythm with the video.

Milan nearly came on the first stroke.

What followed was the cruelest JOI session yet.

Not because she denied him.

But because she led him.

With her voice.

With her hand.

With the toy's squelching sounds as she pumped it slowly, whispering in his ear:

"You don't even need to touch yourself anymore, do you?"

"You like being reduced to just this a cock and a countdown."

"Let me be your rhythm. Let me own your pleasure."

Milan moaned, helpless, fingers twisting into the sheets as the toy milked him at a pace just slow enough to drive him insane.

Nevena leaned in, her breath hot on his cheek.

"Try not to cum, baby," she cooed. "Let's see how well trained you are."

He didn't last.

Of course he didn't.

When he exploded into the toy, panting like he'd run a marathon, Nevena didn't even look angry.

She smiled.

Wicked. Triumphant.

"You'll do better next time," she whispered.

Then pulled the toy off slowly, letting him watch his cum ooze out of it in slow, sticky strands.

"You're going to get addicted to this," she murmured, kissing his forehead. "And when you do... you'll do anything I say."

Milan didn't answer.

He couldn't.

His brain was still short circuiting from the aftershocks.

But deep inside, he knew she was right.

Their sex life changed.

Almost overnight.

Every time they tried to fuck, Milan came too fast.

Nevena noticed and never shamed him. But her smiles grew quieter. Her hand reached for the toy afterward more often. Her hips rolled differently in bed when she thought he was asleep chasing orgasms he couldn't quite give her anymore.

And Milan?

He saw it.

He felt it.

And the worst part?

It made him harder.

He was becoming a slave to the dynamic he didn't know how to escape.

One night, after another quick climax left her unsatisfied and squirming, Nevena whispered in the dark:

"I think we need to recalibrate, baby."

He turned to her, confused. "What do you mean?"

She kissed his cheek.

"You're getting everything. All the pleasure. All the attention. But what about me?"

Milan's throat tightened.

He tried to touch her, tried to offer something back but she took his wrist gently, placing his hand back on his chest.

"I'm not upset," she said softly. "I'm just... curious."

He swallowed hard.

"Curious about what?"

Her eyes gleamed in the dark.

"If you get JOI videos..."

She leaned down, lips brushing his ear.

"Why shouldn't I get something in return?"

Meanwhile... some random day in the week..

Stefan The Unicorn Years POV

It should've just been a night.

One of those crazy, dirty, can you believe we did that moments people bury in the dark corners of memory and never revisit.

But Stefan remembered it all.

The sound Nevena made when she took his cock for the first time.

The way Milan looked wrecked, wide eyed, proud and powerless.

The feel of something unspoken shifting beneath the surface, like all three of them had opened a door they hadn't even known was there.

And Stefan?

He hadn't been the same since.

At first, he did what he always did.

Fucked. Faded. Moved on.

Tinder matches. Instagram DMs. A couple of casual arrangements. Some were hot. A few even flirted with real connection.

But none of them haunted him like that night.

Because with Nevena and Milan, it hadn't been about domination.

Not exactly.

It had been about purpose.

He wasn't just a guy with a big cock playing dress up in someone else's marriage.

He was part of something a fantasy they'd been too scared to chase on their own.

And the look on Nevena's face when she came while Milan watched?

That was something Stefan couldn't shake.

She wasn't being degraded.

She was being celebrated.

Worshipped.

Through him.

By both of them.

So Stefan started asking different questions.

What if this bull thing wasn't just kink?

What if it was... a calling?

He read more.

Not just porn, but forums. Psychology articles. Sex positive essays. Reddit threads full of husbands confessing their most private, aching desires to be made powerless by pleasure.

And he saw it clearly for the first time:

There was something sacred in this.

The unicorns the mythical third weren't just accessories to couples.

When done right, they were catalysts.

Stefan stopped chasing shallow flings.

Instead, he offered something else.

Connection.

Control with consent.

Experience without ego.

He met couples.

Some through dating apps.

Some through underground message boards for ethically non monogamous explorers.

He learned to listen first, talk second.

To ask what the woman wanted... but also what the man feared.

He'd take it slow a dinner, a few drinks, a conversation.

And when it clicked?

When the husband gave him that first, trembling nod of permission, and the wife gave him that look hungry, nervous, ready?

That was when Stefan found what he didn't even know he'd been looking for.

Meaning.

He wasn't just good at this.

He was important.

There was Katya and Luka a Belgrade tech couple exploring hotwifing for the first time. Stefan had given them exactly what they needed: a slow introduction, plenty of communication, and a night that ended with Luka crying softly as his wife came harder than she had in years.

There was Ana a solo woman with a power kink and no patience for weak men. She liked the way Stefan fucked with his hands and his words. They'd been friends with benefits for six months now. She cooked for him. He tied her up when she asked. No strings. Just connection.

There was the poly couple from Novi Sad who didn't know what they wanted until Stefan showed them what was possible how trust and desire could exist in the same breath.

And through it all, Stefan didn't lose himself.

He found himself.

Not a player.

Not a monster.

Not just a cock.

But a man with control, clarity, and a code:

No pressure. No ego. Just pleasure.

Still... sometimes... when the nights stretched long and quiet, Stefan would think of her.

Nevena.

The way her mouth had stretched around him.

The way her hand shook when she hit record.

The way she whispered "he's begging" like it turned her on to say it out loud.

And he'd think of Milan, too.

How he'd texted, desperate, please please please all while his wife was on her knees for another man.

Stefan didn't want to ruin them.

He never had.

But the way they used him and the way he let himself be used had awakened something in him too.

A craving.

Not just for the kink.

But for the intimacy inside it.

The trust.

He didn't just want to be a prop.

He wanted to matter.

So when Nevena messaged him again weeks later, late at night, a single text glowing on his screen like a flicker of old fire:

"Hey. Still up? ????"

Stefan didn't feel guilt.

He felt the truth settle in his chest like a slow, steady heartbeat.

Some fantasies weren't meant to be one night sins.

Some were begging to be resurrected.

And this time?

He knew exactly what he was walking into this time.

It started with a kiss.

Soft. Barely there.

Nevena kissed Milan's cheek as he sat on the edge of the bed, towel still wrapped around his waist, damp from the shower.

Then she pulled the laptop into his lap.

"Press play when I say," she whispered in his ear. "And don't touch yourself until I say so, too. Understand?"

Milan nodded slowly, unsure.

His cock was already twitching beneath the towel.

"I said," she repeated, voice firmer now, silk lined with steel, "do you understand?"

"... Yes."

Nevena smirked and stood, walking to the dresser. She bent at the waist deliberately, knowing he was watching and pulled out the sleek, transparent stroker she'd bought him. She even named it for him, so its called Lola. Lola the Milan's fake pussy toy.

A perfect silicone tunnel. Soft. Tight. Lined with ridges. Just enough friction to ruin a man's control.

She handed it to him and pulled the towel off his lap without warning.

His cock sprang free, hard, flushed, already leaking.

She just laughed softly and slid the toy over him without hesitation not stroking yet. Just letting the cool, snug pressure wrap around him.

Then she whispered:

"Press play."

The video began.

The screen showed Nevena, in stunning HD.

Hair perfect, makeup slightly ruined already.

But a cock hovering near her lips?

Massive.

Angry red. Dripping.

The lighting was flawless. Her face glowing in the soft shadows, eyes gleaming with need. She looked right at the camera at Milan as she whispered:

"Don't stroke yet, baby. Just breathe. I know it's big. I know it looks heavy. But you're not allowed to touch unless I say. Understand?"

Milan shivered.

He didn't dare speak. But he knew right away its Stefan he remembers the dick like its his own now.

Her voice was almost hypnotic soft, encouraging, cruel.

"Tonight is about control. If you cum before I let you... you don't get the rest. Not the next videos. Not the good ones. Just the edge. Just the ache."

Milan's knuckles whitened as he gripped the sheets.

His cock throbbed inside the toy. Still unmoving. Still waiting.

Onscreen, Nevena licked up the underside of the cock slowly her tongue dragging from the base to the head with obscene devotion.

Her voice continued, warm and wicked.

"Let me see if you're strong enough, baby. I'm going to suck him... and every stroke of my hand, I want you to stroke once. Just once. And if you cum too soon... no more videos. No more pictures. You'll wait. Do you understand?"

"Y yes," Milan breathed, eyes wide, body already shaking.

Nevena smiled onscreen and beside him as she reached down and slowly moved the toy up and down his cock.

One stroke.

Then stopped.

"One."

Onscreen, she took Stefan's tip between her lips.

Her cheeks hollowed slightly. A soft, wet slurp.

Another stroke.

"Two..."

Stefan's cock pulsed in her mouth.

Milan groaned aloud.

Nevena looked at him now the real her crouched beside the bed, watching his face.

"Good boy," she whispered. "Now match me."

She hit a key on the laptop. The video changed angles now showing a slow, hypnotic rhythm: her hand wrapped tightly around Stefan's thick shaft, stroking in perfect cadence.

"Three..."

One more stroke.

His whole body jerked.

"Four..."

He was sweating now.

His hips shifted involuntarily.

"Five..."

"Shit " Milan whimpered, clenching his jaw. "Nevena baby I can't "

She leaned closer and kissed his cheek again, voice like honey and poison all at once.

"You can, baby. If you want to see more... if you want to be a good boy... you'll hold it."

She tapped the keyboard.

Another clip.

Her mouth stretched wide now. Gagging slightly. Her hand pumping faster. Stefan groaning low in the background.

"Six... God, you're leaking already, aren't you?"

She looked right into the camera, lips swollen, smeared with spit.

"Seven... I haven't even taken him halfway down yet..."

"Eight..."

Milan's thighs trembled.

His head tipped back. Eyes squeezed shut.

"Nevena Nevena fuck I can't I'm gonna "

But she just kept going.

"Nine..."

The next moment showed her bobbing faster, hand and mouth working in sync, spit flying, a messy, eager slurp with every motion.

"Ten..."

His cock twitched violently.

Then

"Cum."

He exploded.

Not by choice.

Not from release.

From command.

His whole body seized up, shuddering, hot pulses shooting into the toy, soaking it, leaking down his thighs as he bit back a cry, breath hitching with overwhelming, helpless surrender.

And beside him?

The real Nevena just smiled.

Not smug.

Not cruel.

Just... powerful.

She kissed his sweat slick temple as he trembled through the last waves of his orgasm.

Then whispered:

"You didn't last."

Milan groaned, burying his face in her shoulder.

"I'm sorry..."

"I know, baby."

She reached over and closed the laptop.

"You'll have to wait for part two now."

It haunted him.

Not just the video not just the glistening image of Nevena stretched around Stefan's cock, eyes wet, throat bulging.

What haunted Milan was what it did to him.

The way his body obeyed. Without permission. Without dignity.

She had said "Cum."

And he did.

He came like a fucking dog.

Not because it felt good though it did.

But because she told him to.

And that was what scared him most. Not the jealousy. Not the ache. But how right it had felt.

Now, every time he opened his phone even just to check the time the memory surged like a drug flash: her voice whispering numbers, her lips wrapped around someone else.

Each time, his cock stirred.

It happened in traffic. In meetings. While brushing his teeth.

One flash of her kneeling, and he'd throb so hard it hurt.

He started dreaming about it. Not in full scenes but in images, textures:

Her lipstick smeared across another man's shaft.

Her voice, sweet and cold, saying, "If you cum now, you don't get to see the end."

The silicone stroker, wet in his hand, slicker than shame.

He stopped watching porn altogether.

Because nothing felt as good as the ache she left him in.

And Nevena noticed.

Of course she did.

She saw it in how quiet he was. How careful. How eager to please.

He did more chores. Cooked more dinners. Rubbed her feet like it was holy work.

And every night, his cock strained under the sheets, aching to be ruined by her again.

He didn't even ask for sex anymore.

He just waited.

Because if she wanted to wreck him, she would.

And when she did?

He'd thank her.

Night Three since that play

Milan came home late from work exhausted, twitchy, hard.

His phone buzzed just as he was slipping out of his dress shirt.

Nevena. One line.

"You've been good. Ready for part two?"

He stared at the screen, breath caught in his throat.

His hand trembled.

He typed:

"Yes."

But what he meant was:

Please.

Please destroy me again.

I need it. I need you.

I want to watch you!!!

And when he stepped into the bedroom?

The lights were dim.

The laptop was waiting.

So was the toy.

And Nevena already curled up on the bed, watching him undress, her eyes gleaming.

"Sit down," she said softly.

Then she opened the next file.

The lights were low. The laptop sat open in front of him like an altar, casting its glow across the room. The slick stroker Nevena had picked out was already resting on a towel by his side, next to a bottle of lube. She'd arranged it all. He hadn't touched a thing.

Because this wasn't for him.

This was for her.

He sat down, muscles tight, heart pounding, cock already twitching before he even clicked play.

And when he did?

The screen flared to life Nevena, framed in perfect focus.

She was kneeling in soft, golden light, lips glossy, skin flushed. Her ponytail was tight, face framed by flyaways, that same lipstick Milan loved... smeared red and dangerous.

She looked right at the camera.

Right at him.

And smiled.

"Hi, baby," she purred, voice low and intimate, like she was whispering into the base of his spine. "Miss me already?"

Milan's throat clicked as he swallowed. His cock jumped.

"Tonight's lesson is simple," she continued, adjusting her position with practiced grace. She reached out, and the camera panned slowly, deliberately, until it captured Stefan's cock in full hard, heavy, resting against her cheek.

It was like a professional porn video at this point the angles the mood the light.

More real.

Veins visible. Her lipstick smeared on the underside from earlier practice. Her hand wrapped around the base fingers spread, struggling to close fully around it.

Milan's breath hitched.

Her smile widened.

"I want you to match me," she whispered. "Every stroke I give him, you give yourself. No faster. No cheating. You follow me, baby."

A pause, then a mock serious pout:

"And if you cum before I tell you to?"

A soft laugh.

"You don't get to see what happens next."

Milan reached for the stroker with shaking hands.

Already his cock was stiff painfully so, the way it always was now when she was like this. When she was herself with someone else, but still looking into his soul while doing it.

She began to stroke Stefan.

Slow. Lazy. Almost affectionate.

Milan matched it barely the silicone toy tight, warm, humiliating in its artificiality.

"Good boy," Nevena cooed, watching the shaft in her hand swell with anticipation. "That's it. Just like that. You like watching me stroke this big cock, don't you?"

Milan nodded at the screen, too breathless to answer.

But the words kept coming.

"Every time I touch him, I think about you watching. About how hard you get just knowing it's not you here. That you're out there, alone, jerking your needy little cock while I'm playing with the real thing."

The stroker squeezed around him too tightly, the lube slick but unrelenting. His thighs were already tense.

Nevena leaned in, her voice a purr.

"Are you leaking yet, baby? I bet you are. Bet you're soaked. Let me see."

The camera tilted up a new angle. It wasn't just Stefan's cock anymore.

It was Nevena's tongue.

Trailing the shaft slowly, reverently, like she was worshiping a relic. She moaned softly not exaggerated, not pornified just genuine. Like she meant it.

Milan's hips jolted forward involuntarily.

His cock throbbed in the toy.

His stomach clenched.

No. Too fast.

But he couldn't stop it.

She was still talking.

"You love this, don't you? Love seeing me work for it. Love knowing I can't even get it all in... no matter how hard I try."

She opened her mouth, impossibly wide, and slowly took Stefan in inch by impossible inch. Her jaw flexed. Her eyes watered. The gag was soft, subtle but real.

Milan whimpered.

He could feel the orgasm coiling. Just like before.

Too soon. Always too soon.

But she wasn't done.

She pulled back with a wet pop, stroking the shaft again, breathless and flushed.

"You better not cum yet," she warned, pointing a lacquered nail at the camera. "I haven't even told you to. You wait."

Milan's cock leaked helplessly.

He gritted his teeth, squeezed the base, tried everything to delay it but the betrayal had already begun.

Her voice came again, softer this time. Crueler.

"You're gonna fail again, aren't you?"

She licked the tip.

"Your little cock can't take this."

Another stroke.

"You're already twitching."

Another wet slurp.

"Pathetic. And so fucking hot."

Milan cried out. His back arched.

The orgasm hit sudden, violent, splattering into the toy and spilling onto his thighs. He moaned, desperate, ashamed, ruined.

The laptop screen blinked the video stopped.

Nevena, mid suck. Her hand glistening. Her lips parted.

Frozen.

He had failed again.

And now he wouldn't get to see the end.

He sat there, panting, stroker still in hand, cum cooling on his skin. His entire body trembled.

And he whispered barely audible, into the dark:

"... Please..."

Trying to hit play but the video was not whole, it's like she knew in advance he would fail exactly on that point.

Nevena just said whops sorry baby rules are rules. With a evil smile whispering love you too and she went to the bathroom to take a shower. But returning to grab her big dildo toy from the shelf making sure he saw it.

Milan lay on the bed, shirt clinging to his chest with sweat, his cock still twitching uselessly in his hand. The air was thick with the scent of shame and orgasm. His heart pounded like he'd run a marathon not just from the climax, but from what it meant.

He hadn't lasted.

Not even halfway.

Again.

So he just went to sleep.

The next day.

His phone buzzed on the pillow beside him.

Nevena:

Hey, baby. ????

How did you like last nights lesson?

Didn't want to wake you up this morning but i went out, dont worry you will get something else later.

Milan swallowed hard, thumbs trembling as he typed back.

Milan:

I'm sorry...

I didn't make it.

I tried, Nevena. I really did.

Three dots... then her response.

Nevena:

Oh, honey.

I knew you wouldn't.

That was the point.

His cock twitched again sensitive, humiliated, and still... wanting.

Nevena:

How far did u think you would last? Be honest.

Milan hesitated, heat flooding his face.

Milan:

The moment you said "stroke with the tongue."

You looked up at the camera and moaned... I lost it.

Another pause. Then her reply lit up the screen:

Nevena:

Aww, baby.

That was only 55 seconds in.

He winced.

Nevena:

I was so gentle at first too... barely even teasing him. You should've seen how hard he got while I talked to you...

A photo followed.

It wasn't graphic. Just Nevena's face in profile glistening red lips parted, her tongue licking slow along the underside of Stefan's cock like she was savoring candy. One hand braced on his hip. Her mascara was perfect. Calculated. Unapologetic.

Milan's cock throbbed. Already.

Milan:

Please... don't stop sending them.

Even if I can't handle it.

Nevena:

Oh, baby. That's adorable.

But that's not how this works anymore.

Milan's stomach dropped. Then buzz.

Nevena:

You'll earn the next part.

If you can prove you can make it 3 minutes next time.

No cumming. No begging.

Just stroke when I say... stop when I say... watch me. Want me. But hold it. ????

Another pause.

Nevena:

You do want to see what happened after I put him in my mouth, right?

Milan groaned out loud, his cock still twitching against his thigh.

Milan:

God yes. Please. I want it so bad.

Nevena:

Then prove it.

Milan:

I'll do anything.

The next image came slowly, deliberately.

Nevena topless now, lips stretched wide, her eyes locked on the camera with a filthy confidence. Stefan's cock glistened from root to tip, halfway buried in her mouth. Her fingers gripped the base, knuckles whitening. Her cheeks hollowed. A drop of spit clung to her chin.

Captioned:

"He didn't cum either, baby. We're training you together."

Milan groaned again, helpless, his body burning for something he already couldn't handle.

And Nevena knew it.

The final message:

Nevena:

Clean yourself up i bet you are messy from last night.

Today later after dinner, I'll tell you when to stroke again.

If you're still cumming too fast...

You'll have to wait to see me ride him.

From the back.

Up close.

With sound. ????

Later that evening.

Milan sat on the edge of the bed.

Naked.

Phone propped up on a pillow.

His cock twitched with anticipation before he even hit play.

Nevena's text had come a few hours ago:

Nevena:

Okay, my good boy.

Tonight's lesson is three minutes. No cumming.

Only stroke when I say. Only move when I allow.

If you last... I'll show you how I rode him. ????

If you don't... you'll be stuck watching stills of my thighs and his cock pressed between them. No motion. No sound. Just frustration.

Ready?

He'd replied:

Milan:

Ready.

She sent the video. File name:

"Session_2_SlowSuckTraining. mp4"

He took a breath and tapped play.

???? The Video:

It opened with Nevena seated prettily between Stefan's legs.

Her hair was in soft waves. Casual. Dangerous. She wore no lipstick this time her mouth glistened naturally, lips parted slightly in anticipation. She looked into the camera with a warm, quiet confidence.

Stefan's cock lay thick and half hard across her cheek. She nuzzled it like a pet she loved. Worshipped.

Her voice was soft. Intimate.

"Hi baby..."

"I know you're hard already. Don't touch yet. Just watch."

Milan swallowed, hands clenched at his sides.

Nevena kissed the tip gently, then down the shaft, as if tasting it for the first time. Her tongue traced the veins, slow and reverent.

"I'm gonna suck him... nice and slow... and you're going to keep your hands right where they are."

She took the head into her mouth. Just the head. Swirled her tongue in slow, sensual circles.

"Imagine it's your cock."

"Imagine it's your cock in my mouth... and that its big like Stefan. So I'm trying to get used to it again."

Milan's cock bobbed, twitching with painful urgency.

The video cut to a side angle.

Her cheeks drew in. The sound of wet sucking filled the air deliberate, exaggerated, obscene.

"Okay, baby..."

"Now. Start stroking. Nice and slow. Only to the rhythm of my mouth."

"When I pull up, you stop. When I go down, you stroke. Got it?"

Milan obeyed. Slowly.

Her lips slid down. He stroked once.

Up. He froze.

Down. Another stroke.

Up. Nothing.

But his cock was already leaking, burning.

The pressure built fast.

Nevena moaned gently around the shaft.

"I love how hard you get watching this, baby. You're such a good little viewer. That ache? That's mine. You don't get to cum from it. You endure it."

His thighs clenched. He tried to slow his breathing.

The angle changed again her face tilted up, eyes locked on the camera, Stefan's cock deep in her mouth, her throat fluttering.

"Stroke faster now."

"Match me."

"I want to hear your breath catch while I suck another man's cock for you."

"That's what turns you on, isn't it?"

"Knowing this isn't for you. But I still let you watch."

Milan's stomach tightened.

His hand pumped faster. Too fast.

His balls ached. His vision blurred.

Nevena paused, pulled off with a wet pop, and grinned.

"Stop."

"Don't touch."

Milan's hand froze mid motion.

His cock twitched violently.

"If you cum now, you don't get part three."

"If you cum now, I won't let you see me ride him."

She leaned in again. Licked the slit of Stefan's cock. Whispered like a dirty lullaby:

"Stroke now. Just three more strokes."

Milan obeyed.

One.

Two

"Look at me when he cums on my tongue next time, baby."

Three.

That was it.

He gasped. Froze. But it was too late.

His cock jerked violently in his hand. Cum spurted across his stomach before he could stop it.

"F fuck "

He collapsed back, chest heaving, pulse racing. His mind spun.

The video kept playing.

Nevena tilted her head, smiling at the camera knowingly, like she knew.

"Did you cum?" she whispered. "Mmm... naughty."

"Guess you don't get to see me bounce on him today after all."

The screen went black.

???? TEXT -- Moments Later

Milan:

I'm sorry. I tried. I almost made it. I swear.

Buzz.

Nevena:

Almost isn't enough, baby.

You want me to ride him? Earn it.

Tomorrow we go for five minutes. ????

Milan:

God... I don't think I can.

I'm so sorry. Please... just let me see you.

Nevena:

No.

Tonight you go to bed with your hand sticky and your heart heavy.

Because that's what a good cuck does.

He fails... and begs.

And maybe, just maybe... I'll reward you next time.

Another message pinged.

A photo.

Nevena's lips parted around Stefan's cock, her cheeks puffed out with cum. She was smiling.

Caption:

"I swallowed. You exploded. Which one of us deserves to watch me ride next, baby?" ????

Nevena was staying at the spa for the whole week. That was her plan all along to make Milan wait at home and send him videos and texts and pics to make him cum. She loved this new game and so did Milan. She had such a lovely time sexting her Husband while getting fucked by Stefan and relaxing at the spa center. Best of both worlds.

Milan had never edged himself this carefully before.

His body was tense, thighs rigid, breath shallow. The only sound in the room was the low hum of his phone, propped upright against the lamp base, casting flickering shadows across the bedsheets.

The video was queued.

Nevena's text before he hit play still glowed on the screen:

Nevena:

Tonight's video is... special.

Five minutes. You stroke when I say. No touching otherwise.

If you make it to the end, I'll send you the real treat.

If you cum early... well, you'll see. ????

His cock was already hard before the first frame.

???? The Video: "Ride_SideView_HD_Training3. mp4"

It began with a blurred shot the camera slowly coming into focus.

Nevena's voice, close to the mic, sultry and soft:

"Hi baby... You ready to try again?"

"This time, I want you to last. Five minutes."

"Don't stroke until I tell you. Don't even think about it."

The image cleared.

She was on top.

Straddling Stefan.

The camera angle was cruel a wide, back facing shot. Nevena's ass was the centerpiece, arched perfectly as she slowly lowered herself onto his cock.

Her body moved in slow, controlled rhythm. The slap of skin on skin was audible, slick and steady.

"God, he's so big, baby..." she moaned.

"But don't worry... I'm thinking of you."

"You can stroke now. One stroke for every bounce. Match me."

Milan obeyed.

One bounce. One stroke.

Her moans came soft and rhythmic, but her words sliced sharper.

"Do you see how wet I am?"

"That's how bad I want to make you cum."

"But you have to last, baby."

He grit his teeth. His cock ached. Each bounce made his balls clench tighter. Her ass rippled beautifully with every thrust.

He was doing it.

Three minutes in, he was still holding on.

Sweat clung to his skin. His hand trembled. But he hadn't come.

"Almost there..." Nevena breathed.

"You're so good, Milan. My good boy. Just a little more."

The pace quickened.

Her hips now slapping against Stefan's thighs. Wet sounds louder. Her moans sharper.

Then the camera began to slowly blur again.

Just her ass, fading.

Milan blinked. "No..."

The image clarified again but tighter.

On Stefan's cock.

Her pussy stretching, swallowing him whole. Over and over.

Nothing else.

Only his shaft.

Going in and out of her.

Milan's body bucked.

"That's it..." Nevena whispered.

"You made it so far... But if you cum now, it's just for his cock."

Milan gasped. Tried to stop.

Too late.

His body betrayed him.

Cum shot from his cock in a hot, humiliating spasm.

He cried out, curling forward, hand frozen mid stroke, heart pounding.

The video cut to black.

Then Nevena's voice returned.

"Oops."

"Did you cum just to his cock, baby?"

"I'm so sorry. I blurred me on purpose. Just wanted to see if you'd still lose it."

"You did so good, though. Almost made it."

A beat.

Then another soft giggle.

"I won't do it again. Promise. Unless..."

Ping.

A message.

Nevena:

Don't worry. I'll make it up to you.

Tomorrow's clip is my mouth again.

*Let's see if you can last when it's your favorite part of me doing your least favorite thing... "

Another photo.

Her mouth stretched wide.

Stefan's cock halfway down her throat.

Caption:

"Don't cum until I swallow. That's the rule now. ????"

Milan's cock twitched, still leaking.

And he whispered, shamefully turned on, breathlessly defeated:

"Fuck... I want more."

Would you like to move into that mouth focused clip next or linger more in Milan's unraveling emotions before escalating the next challenge?

The Next Day

Milan tried to bury himself in emails. Reports. Metrics. Anything. But his body still felt like it had been struck by lightning. Every time he shifted in his chair, he could feel the ghost of Nevena's voice in his ear: "Don't you dare cum until I say so."

He blinked down at his coffee, still untouched.

A ping from his phone snapped his attention.

Nevena.

He opened the text.

And froze.

It was a photo.

Nevena on their bed, legs spread lazily, a soft, almost sleepy smile on her lips. Completely naked, the afternoon sun bathing her in gold. And draped across her bare pussy, resting just above her mound, was Stefan's thick, veiny cock.

The head pointed toward her belly button.

And it nearly reached it.

Milan's breath left him in a sharp, audible gasp.

"Yo, what was that?"

He jumped.

Two coworkers had walked up behind him. One was Jake always too loud, always too curious. The other was Ana, quiet, sharp, observant.

Jake laughed as Milan scrambled to lock his screen.

"Damn, bro! That your girl? Holy shit, you're living good. That's some premium stuff. You're packing, huh?"

Milan's face flushed red. His ears burned.

"I I'm sorry you saw that. It was private," he muttered.

Jake laughed again, clapping him on the back. "Don't worry, man. Props. Real talk."

Ana didn't say anything. Just gave him a look. Like she'd seen more than he realized.

Coffee Break -- Fifteen Minutes Later

Milan was hiding in the break room, staring into his half empty mug like it might offer some kind of escape when Ana slid into the seat across from him.

"So," she began, voice low and amused. "Didn't know you were into hotwife stuff."

Milan's heart stopped.

He looked up, stammering. "I I'm not... I mean... that wasn't "

Ana tilted her head, grinning just slightly. "Relax. It's fine. Trust me, I've seen enough dick to know that wasn't you in that pic. That was someone else. A Bull, right? And you dont give off big dick energy anyways. Plus this face you just made proved my point"

Milan blinked, unable to find his words.

She sipped her coffee, unbothered. "It's okay. More and more guys are into it. Watching their wives get absolutely railed by someone bigger. Someone rougher. Nothing wrong with it."

He was still red. Still too embarrassed to meet her eyes.

"But," she added, her smile widening just slightly, "your wife? She's lucky. Very lucky. She's playing the game just right. Might need to ask her some things sometime... you know, for research purposes ofc."

She stood and gave his shoulder a pat.

"Hang in there, champ."

Then she left.

The weekend approached with a quiet tension neither Milan nor Nevena dared name aloud. They went through the motions of their weekend like everything was normal dinners made, laundry folded, idle chatter over morning coffee. But the silence between them thrummed with anticipation.

Especially for Milan.

He felt it in every glance Nevena threw him. Every teasing smile. Every moment her hand brushed his shoulder, every time she lingered a little too long behind him after a kiss. A pulse beat beneath everything now, low and steady like a countdown.

Friday night arrived.

The apartment was bathed in soft amber light, just the TV flickering across the walls and ceiling. The air felt thick. Heavy. Loaded.

Milan sat in the armchair, his phone gripped tightly in one hand, his other resting on his thigh. Across from him, Nevena reclined on the couch, legs crossed lazily. She wore one of his old button up shirts, oversized but barely buttoned, her bare thighs curling under her, a glass of wine balanced elegantly between her fingers.

She looked effortless.

Dangerous.

And Milan? He was on the edge.

On his screen, the latest video she'd made played in high definition. No caption this time. No warning. Just Nevena, on her knees in Stefan's living room, hair down, lips glossy, eyes trained on the camera with that same wicked sparkle she'd started to wear like second skin.

"Just imagine it's your cock, baby," she purred, her voice syrup slick, a whisper that curled straight around Milan's spine. Her fingers were wrapped around Stefan's thick shaft, pumping it slowly, deliberately, with practiced ease.

The camera shifted slightly as she adjusted it on a tripod, obviously. She wanted it perfect. Wanted Milan to see every glisten of spit, every bulging vein, every way her hand barely closed around the girth.

"But it's not," she added, licking a long, slow line up Stefan's length. "This one's thicker... warmer... heavier."

Stefan groaned off camera, a low sound that vibrated through Milan's chest as though it had happened in the same room.

Nevena turned back to the lens, eyes dark, lips parted.

"And you love watching me touch it, don't you?"

She let a string of spit fall from her tongue onto Stefan's cock, then smeared it slowly up and down with both hands. Her nails scratched lightly against the base. Stefan twitched in her grip.

"Look at it twitch," she whispered. "Just like yours is right now."

Milan shifted in the armchair, his briefs soaked through with pre cum. His cock ached, flushed and angry, straining upward against his waistband. But this time, he wasn't letting go.

Not yet.

His breathing was shallow. Jaw clenched. His hand was slick with sweat as he gripped himself tightly, mirroring the strokes Nevena gave Stefan.

He knew what happened next in the clip. He'd watched it once already, just to "preview" it, he'd told himself.

He hadn't made it halfway.

But now, he was determined.

He watched Nevena lean forward in the video, her lips wrapping around Stefan's cockhead slowly, eyes never leaving the camera. Her tongue swirled around the tip, then she slid down another inch. And another. And another.

"You like watching my throat stretch, don't you, baby?" she murmured, pausing for breath. Her voice was ragged with arousal.

"You want to be the one making me gag... but you know it's better like this."

Milan's thighs trembled.

Onscreen, Nevena bobbed her head in a slow, relentless rhythm, one hand still stroking the base as she moaned around the thick shaft in her mouth. Her other hand reached down between her thighs, fingers disappearing under her panties.

The camera zoomed slightly, catching everything: her flushed cheeks, the glistening mess of spit and precum coating her lips, the raw hunger in her expression.

"He tastes so fucking good, Milan," she whispered. "And I know you're stroking your cock while you watch me make a mess of myself for him."

Milan groaned low in his throat, muscles clenching.

He was close.

Too close.

He shifted, flexing his thighs, trying to breathe through it. The base of his cock throbbed like a drumbeat.

Then it happened.

Stefan groaned louder. Nevena moaned around him. And just as Milan reached the brink

the video blurred.

Not all of it.

Only Nevena.

The camera shifted just slightly to frame Stefan's cock sliding in and out of her mouth, now partially obscured by deliberate, soft focus blurring. All that remained clearly visible was his thick shaft glistening with Nevena's spit, and the occasional peek of her red stained lips.

Milan's eyes widened.

"No," he gasped. "No, no, no "

But it was too late.

He came.

Hard.

A thick, helpless spill that soaked through the front of his briefs and left him gasping, curling into himself in the chair as the screen faded to black.

Silence followed.

Until Nevena's voice returned.

A whisper, sultry and unapologetic.

"Oops," she said. "Sorry, baby."

And then a giggle.

Across the room, the real Nevena hadn't moved.

She sipped her wine once more, watching Milan unravel with amused detachment. Her eyes flicked lazily from the screen to his ruined expression. She rose slowly and crossed to him with deliberate grace.

She knelt between his legs, cock already softening, the mess still sticky and hot against his skin. She dragged one lazy finger through the wetness, then leaned in.

"Mmm..." she purred, kissing the head gently. "Hands free again. You're getting better."

She stood without another word, turning away with that same slow elegance, wine glass in hand.

"That's more like it."

Milan panted in the chair, eyes dazed, chest heaving.

And then her voice cut through the thick air like a blade.

"P. S. baby... Stefan's coming here for the weekend."

She turned, giving him that crooked little smile.

"So be ready to jerk off in that chair... while you listen to us fuck."

Another sip of wine.

"Love you."

Milan's cock twitching in the mess of its own surrender pulsed again.

The weekend had finally arrived, and with it, a charged atmosphere that neither Milan nor Nevena could ignore. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, each moment stretching longer than the last.

Stefan's arrival was marked by a casual knock on the door, but the tension it brought was anything but casual. Milan opened the door to find Stefan standing there, a confident smile on his face.

"Hey, Milan." Stefan greeted, stepping inside.

"Stefan." Milan replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

They sat down in the living room, the silence between them filled with unspoken thoughts. Stefan broke the silence.

"I know this isn't easy for you, Milan. But I want you to know, I respect what you're doing. It takes courage to explore these boundaries."

Milan nodded, appreciating the acknowledgment. "It's... complicated. But I trust Nevena, and I want to see where this leads."

Stefan leaned forward, his tone sincere. "If at any point this becomes too much, you need to speak up. Communication is key in situations like this."

Their conversation continued, delving into the intricacies of their unique arrangement. As the evening progressed, the initial tension eased, replaced by a mutual understanding.

Later that night, as Milan sat in his chair, he couldn't help but reflect on the conversation. The weekend had just begun, and he was already feeling the weight of his choices.

Nevena entered the room, a playful smile on her lips. "Ready for the weekend, baby?"

Medium

Milan looked up, determination in his eyes. "As ready as I'll ever be."

The stage was set, the players in position, and the weekend promised to be an exploration of desires, boundaries, and the depths of their relationship.

The night felt still. But inside Milan's chest, the storm raged.

He sat on the edge of the same armchair as always, the leather warm beneath his thighs. The lights were dim, the curtains drawn. The only glow came from the hallway down the apartment's spine golden light leaking from under the bedroom door.

Where they were.

Nevena had told him nothing this time. No texts. No countdown. No rules.

Just a single glance before she took Stefan by the hand and led him to their bedroom.

Her voice low. Her shirt gone. Her eyes locked on Milan's like she knew what he would become tonight.

She didn't even close the door all the way.

She left it cracked.

On purpose.

He could hear everything.

At first it was just quiet murmurs, rustling fabric, Stefan's low chuckle, Nevena's breathy laugh. Then the bed creaked. Once. Then again.

And then it began.

A moan.

Long. Deep. Guttural.

Nevena's.

Milan froze, his hand halfway to his cock, mouth open. The sound hit him like a slap realer, louder, more raw than any video. It wasn't scripted. It wasn't for the camera. It was for him.

Or maybe in spite of him.

"*Oh my god... Stefan *fuck yes."

The name crashed through Milan like a wave. It was the first time she'd said it like that. That way.

She hadn't moaned Milan's name like that in years.

Another thud. The bed hitting the wall. Skin on skin.

Pound.

Pound.

Pound.

Then a scream.

High. Broken. Wrecked.

"FUCK, STEFAN YES HARDER "

Milan's cock twitched violently. He gripped it, helplessly, ashamed at how fast the arousal returned. He hadn't even realized he'd gotten hard again. The air around him felt heavy humid with sex. With surrender.

"*Right there *oh my god, don't stop keep ruining my pussy yes yes YES "

The rhythm picked up. Smack. Smack. Smack. Flesh hitting flesh with no restraint, no apology. Nevena was wailing now. Loud. Unfiltered. She wasn't playing a role.

She was fucking.

And it wasn't quiet.

And she wanted Milan to hear.

He jerked faster, cheeks burning, heart thudding against his ribs.

Then something in him snapped.

He had to see it.

Before he realized he was even moving, he was off the chair, crossing the floor on trembling legs. Every breath he took felt hot and tight. His cock was leaking already, hard and red and desperate.

He stopped just before the door.

The sounds were louder now. Closer.

Nevena was moaning his name again. But not his.

"Stefan, fuck stretch me split me open yes, right there don't stop, I'm gonna fucking CUM "

The words tore through him. Milan pressed his eye to the door crack.

And saw everything.

Nevena was on all fours.

Her hair was a mess, sweat slicked to her back. Her face was buried in a pillow, back arched deep, ass high. Stefan's thick, brutal cock was slamming into her from behind, his hands gripping her hips like handles.

Each thrust shook her body.

Her thighs quivered. Her voice cracked.

She screamed.

"YESSSS STEFAN OH MY GOD I'M CUMMING AGAIN FUCK FUCK "

Milan's cock jerked in his hand.

He couldn't breathe.

Couldn't not look.

Stefan didn't slow down. If anything, he pounded harder, her pussy visibly stretched around his cock, each thrust burying him to the root.

"Take it," Stefan growled. "Take every inch of this cock, slut."

Nevena shrieked.

She loved it.

She was coming again, body trembling, juices slicking Stefan's thighs, soaking the sheets.

Milan couldn't hold it.

His balls pulled up. His breath hitched.

He whimpered yes, whimpered as he came.

Hot ribbons of cum spilled across his fingers, his wrist, dripping onto the hardwood floor at his feet. He didn't stop stroking. He couldn't. He needed it to keep going. Needed to feel every drop of what he wasn't allowed to have.

He watched Nevena collapse onto the bed, chest heaving, ass still in the air, Stefan not stopping.

"God i want to cum in this pussy," Stefan grunted. "Gonna fill her up. You listening out there? You hear me fucking your wife for you Milan?"

Milan's eyes rolled back.

His hand never left his cock. Cum smeared down his shaft as he kept stroking through the aftershocks.

Then Stefan groaned. Long. Deep. Spent.

Nevena's voice rose again sobbing, beautiful, ruined.

"*YESSS CUM IN ME *FILL ME UP *STEFAN YES "

And Milan came again.

Somehow.

A second pulse of messy, weaker spurts that painted his hand and dripped to the floor, his whole body shaking.

He sagged against the door.

Panting. Weak.

Used.

Inside, the room quieted. Just the sound of breathing. Sated, satisfied breathing.

Then Nevena's voice again.

Soft.

Low.

Wicked.

"I hope you made a mess, baby..."

Milan gasped.

She knew.

Of course she did.

"You're gonna clean it up... while I keep him hard."

He could hear her shifting again. The rustle of sheets. The slurp of her mouth wrapping around Stefan's cock again.

Another deep moan.

From both of them.

"We're not done yet."

Nevena's voice was breathy as it came from the bedroom.

"You're gonna clean it up... while I keep him hard."

Milan was still on his knees outside the door, hand dripping, chest heaving, face flushed from orgasm and shame. But something in her tone made him push the door open slowly, carefully.

She was sitting between Stefan's legs at the edge of the bed, his cock wet and glossy, twitching already from her mouth's attention. Her lips were plump, red, messy. She looked up at Milan with a gleam of mischief and heat.

"Come here, baby."

Milan obeyed.

He stepped slowly into the room, naked and still flushed, his softening cock still sticky with his last climax. He didn't know what was happening only that she wanted him close, and he couldn't say no.

Nevena sat back on her heels and gestured with a lazy wave between Stefan's legs.

"Come stand next to him."

Milan hesitated, but obeyed again. He moved to the side, standing shoulder to shoulder with Stefan, who glanced down at Milan's cock with a knowing smirk. The contrast between them was immediate. Devastating.

Milan's cock twitched back to life out of pure adrenaline and tension.

Nevena grinned up at them both. "Look at that," she said, licking her lips. "One's thick and heavy like a weapon... and the other's twitchy and cute like a good boy's little cock."

She took both of them in her hands.

Her fingers barely fit around Stefan's girth thick, veined, the head swollen and still wet with her spit. Milan's cock, thinner and more modest, fit more neatly in her palm.

Then she tried to put them both in her mouth.

"Let's see..."

She opened wide. Her tongue slid under Stefan's cock first, and she sucked the head in with a grunt. But when she tried to angle Milan's cock alongside it, her lips strained. Her cheeks bulged.

She gagged, laughing as she pulled back. "Fuck," she giggled. "I can't. You're too big, Stefan. Poor Milan's just... stuck in my hand while I choke on this monster."

And then she did exactly that.

She focused her mouth on Stefan, stroking Milan idly while bobbing her head slow and deep. Her hand jerked Milan in rhythm with her lips sliding over Stefan's cock every downstroke of her throat mirrored by a squeeze of Milan's shaft.

And when their dicks touched wet, hot, tip to tip for a second Milan gasped.

"Ohhh," Nevena moaned, letting her tongue slither out, licking the underside of Stefan's cock as it bumped Milan's. "Did you feel that? Yours touched his... mm, maybe that'll help you grow. She joked"

Milan whimpered, humiliated and rock hard.

She looked up at them with a filthy, commanding smile.

"Alright boys. Game time."

She positioned herself on her knees again, one hand on each cock.

"Whoever cums first..." she purred, jerking them in slow, teasing unison, "... has to sit back and watch me fuck the winner."

Milan's breath caught.

Stefan just chuckled, relaxed, confident.

Nevena began stroking harder. Faster. Her wrists twisting. Her eyes locked on each man's face, studying the way they tried to hide their reactions.

She leaned close to Milan first, whispering filth into his ear.

"Mmm... I bet this is your dream, isn't it? Your wife jerking off two cocks. Feeling how different they are. Knowing mine gets wetter when I touch him. You're already leaking, baby. I can feel it."

Then to Stefan:

"You love this, don't you? Being our bull. Look how tight I'm gripping you I can feel how hard you are already."

She spit in her palms. Spread it over both shafts.

The slick sound of stroking filled the room.

Then she switched again.

Mouth to Milan. Hands to Stefan.

She wrapped her lips around Milan's cock and sucked with precision. Cruel skill. She knew him too well. She flicked her tongue along the underside. Let the head hit the roof of her mouth with every bob. Her moan sent vibrations down his shaft.

It was over.

Milan cried out. "Oh fuck, I Nevena "

Cum flooded her mouth in sharp, helpless bursts. She swallowed smoothly, pulling off with a wet pop, tongue still dancing along his shaft.

She smirked up at him.

"Five minutes, baby. Again."

She stood slowly, turning to Stefan, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Loser watches now."

Milan backed up, humiliated, trembling. He fell into the chair across from the bed.

Stefan took his place in it now legs spread, cock rock hard, ready.

Nevena climbed on top of him in reverse cowgirl, gripping the armrests for support. Her ass hovered over his cock.

She looked over her shoulder at Milan with a wild grin.

"Now watch, baby."

She slid down onto Stefan in one smooth, deep motion.

"FUCK."

Her moan was thunderous. Her body jolted. Stefan grunted, grabbing her hips as she began to ride.

She bounced with rhythm. Wet, noisy, loud.

Her ass smacked against his thighs. Over and over.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

She moaned louder. Her voice breaking as pleasure overtook her.

"Yes yes deeper fuck, Stefan keep me full "

Milan sat frozen. Hard again. Limp again. Confused. Crushed. Desperate.

Then Nevena looked over her shoulder.

Eyes locked on him.

Voice soft and so wicked.

"Come here, baby."

He blinked.

"Come. Lick my clit."

His breath caught. He didn't move.

Her voice dropped an octave.

"Now."

He obeyed.

He crawled across the floor, knees burning, trembling as he approached. The scent of sex hit him before he got close. Her thighs slick. Her body glistening.

He positioned himself beneath them, heart racing, tongue trembling.

And then he began to lick.

Her clit. Just the tip of his tongue. Gentle. Careful. Worshipful.

But Stefan's cock was right there.

Sliding in and out. Thick. Veined. Wet.

Inches from his mouth.

Milan tried to focus. Tried to avoid it.

But Nevena bucked harder.

She gasped.

"Yes, baby. Make me cum. Just like that."

He licked faster.

Flicked his tongue with purpose.

She moaned, body jerking. Stefan's breathing picked up. They were both close.

And then

Her hips shifted.

Suddenly his tongue dragged across both.

Clit and cock.

He froze.

Pulled back.

But her hand gripped his hair hard.

"No," she gasped. "Stay there."

Her fingers held him down as she rode harder.

Stefan's cock pounded into her, now brushing against Milan's lips as he licked. Her clit, his cock, her slick thighs everything was wet.

He licked again.

His tongue slipped. Across Stefan's shaft. Accidental.

Another moan. Louder.

Nevena screamed.

"*CUMMING fuckfuckfuck yesyesYES "

Her thighs clenched around Stefan's cock as he groaned deep, hips jolting. His cock pulsed inside her.

He came.

And Milan... kept licking.

Her hands released him only when she was done trembling, her body slumping forward.

She turned her head slowly, looking back over her shoulder.

Her voice soft. Almost loving.

"... Thank you, baby. You made me cum so hard. I love you."

She slid off Stefan, legs shaking.

Cum dripped from her thighs.

She leaned forward. Kissed Milan's forehead.

"You're such a good husband."

Later, Stefan stood in the doorway pulling on his shirt. Milan watched from the edge of the bed.

Stefan looked at him, casual.

"Don't worry," he said with a shrug. "It's not gay if you licked my cock. Happens."

He grinned.

"Besides... I don't think she even noticed. But hey between us guys, right?"

And then he left.

Milan walked back into the bedroom.

Nevena was already asleep, her body sated, a dreamy smile on her face.

He slid into bed beside her, heart pounding.

So many thoughts.

So many feelings.

But only one certainty:

He'd do anything to be hers.

Even this.

The morning light poured soft and slow through the half open curtains, casting golden stripes across the rumpled sheets. The bedroom still smelled like sweat, sex, and skin. Milan stirred first.

He lay on his side, body sore, mind groggy, but his heart... was racing. Memories flashed in scattered bursts: her thighs clenching around his head, Stefan groaning above him, the wet heat of skin and cock brushing too close to his tongue...

His face flushed instantly.

Nevena was beside him. Curled under the blanket. Eyes closed, hair a mess, breathing calm.

He stared at her.

Beautiful. Spent. Unbothered.

Like last night hadn't shaken the very core of him.

He didn't move. Didn't even blink.

Then

"Morning," she murmured, without opening her eyes.

Milan swallowed hard. "M Morning."

A beat.

Then she stretched.

Long. Luxurious. Catlike.

Her shirt slid up, revealing the curve of her bare hip. She yawned and finally turned to look at him.

"You okay?" she asked, voice soft, but that teasing glint already blooming in her expression.

Milan nodded slowly. "Yeah. Just... thinking."

Nevena smiled.

"That's a dangerous game."

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, letting the silence settle again. Then

"So..." she said.

He froze.

She turned her head, her grin widening.

"Did your tongue really slip last night? Or were you just curious, baby?"

Milan's heart stopped.

His face went crimson. "I it wasn't it was just "

She laughed. Genuinely. Sweetly.

"Oh my god, relax. I'm not mad. I just..." She bit her lip. "It was hot. Honestly."

Milan blinked. "... You're not upset?"

"Upset?" She raised an eyebrow. "Why would I be? You were a good boy. You made me cum so hard. You always make me cum hard when you're obedient."

Her hand slid gently across the sheets and landed on his chest.

"You did exactly what I needed you to do. That's not something I punish."

He exhaled slowly. Relief flooding through his limbs.

But then Nevena's voice dipped again.

Low. Playful.

"Still... funny though."

He glanced at her, unsure.

She rolled onto her side and traced a slow circle on his bare chest with her fingertip.

"Like... you and Stefan..." She giggled again. "We licked the same cock, baby."

She laughed harder, her nose scrunching. "Life's wild, huh? Who would've thought?"

Milan covered his face with his hands. "Nevena..."

"Oh, come on," she teased. "It's not a bad thing. It's kinda... beautiful. In a fucked up, messy, pornographic kind of way."

He groaned into his palms.

She leaned closer, lips brushing his ear.

"And just imagine..." she whispered.

Milan stiffened.

"... what it would feel like if we both sucked him at the same time."

His breath hitched.

"I mean " she laughed, pulling back. "Not saying you would. I know you're not gay. It's fine. Totally fine."

A wink.

A smirk.

"But wouldn't that be... hot?"

Milan stared at the ceiling, eyes wide, heart pounding.

She reached under the blanket and cupped his cock soft, but twitching with interest.

"Mmm. See? It's okay, baby. Your body doesn't lie. You're mine either way."

A kiss on his cheek.

Then she sat up, stretching again, breasts bouncing beneath the thin fabric of his old t shirt.

"I'm making pancakes," she said lightly. "You want one cock shaped or heart shaped this morning?"

"... You're impossible," Milan muttered, half laughing, half dying inside.

Nevena grinned and tossed him a wink from the doorway.

"I know. That's why you love me."

She disappeared into the kitchen, humming to herself, hips swaying.

And Milan lay there in bed naked, aching, confused, and utterly hers.

His fingers brushed his lips.

He could still taste her.

And maybe, just maybe, a little bit of him.