It was in the way she said no at first—polite, distant, with just enough delay between my question and her answer to let the truth flicker. She wasn’t saying no because she didn’t want it. She was saying no because someone else had been promised yes. And when I leaned in close and asked her again—not with my voice, but with my palm sliding up her thigh beneath that elegant little dress—she didn’t say anything at all.
She just opened her legs.
She wanted to be taken, but more than that—she wanted to be used. Not degraded. Not shamed. Just fucked with intention. With knowledge. With a hand firm enough to leave its mark and a rhythm deep enough to make her forget every polite thing she’d ever been taught.
So that’s what I gave her.
I backed her against the wall the moment the door closed, tugged her tights halfway down, and kissed her like she was mine already. She kissed back harder. Desperate. Starved. Married.
When I pulled my cock out and slapped it against her clit, she was already soaked. And when I pressed the head inside—slow, firm, just past the tight heat that clutched at me like a secret—she moaned like someone who knew she shouldn’t.
“You gonna let me do this?” I whispered against her throat. “Gonna let me fuck you like you don’t have a husband refreshing your location?”
Her answer came in the way her hips chased me. The way she whimpered when I didn’t thrust fast enough. The way she said please without ever opening her mouth.
I fucked her against the wall. Then across the couch. Then bent her over the kitchen counter and held her there with one hand pressed to the back of her neck while the other circled her clit until she came hard enough to spasm around me. Her whole body shook like she wasn’t ready for what I’d unlocked.
But I wasn’t finished.
“You’re gonna take all of it,” I told her, grinding in deep, voice low and steady. “You’re gonna walk out of here with me still dripping out of you. You understand?”
She nodded. Barely.
And when I felt her start to come again, I held her tight and came inside her. Deep. Full. No hesitation. No condom. No pulling out.
I stayed there a moment—cock twitching, pussy milking me, her body trembling against the granite edge—before I leaned down and licked the sweat from her shoulder.
Then I told her what she needed to hear.
“You’re going home to him like this. You’re gonna let him kiss your thighs, your lips, your cunt—and he’s gonna taste me. He’s gonna know without asking. And you’re not gonna say a word. You’re just gonna smile. You’re gonna feed it to him.”
She shuddered when I said it.
And now she’s gone.
Hair a mess. Tights torn. Swollen and soaked and full of me. Sitting in the back of her rideshare while my cum leaks into her panties and her husband’s heart beats harder every time that little dot on his screen moves closer to home.
Damn, I honestly get excited over things like this. Is there a distinction between cuck and stag, or is it more up to the partners involved? I just got to wondering while reading this.
Regardless I could see being the husband waiting for his princess to come home. To share the spoils of her night and to describe everything she experienced.
I guess I don't exactly know what a stag is, but this does make me think it's more cuck related. I wouldn't want to be seen as such, just enjoying that my partner was happy and enjoying with them is what I imagine. Don't know if I made sense here or if I was just rambling.
Technically, any man whose wife is sleeping with another man is a “cuckold”. But in terms of kink/erotica, I think the distinction is ostensibly that a cuck’s thrill has an element of humiliation to it, whereas a stag-vixen dynamic is more about the husband simply enjoying seeing his wife with another man.
In reality, I think there’s a pretty thin line between the two - which is kind of where I try to land my stories. A little light humiliation can be fun, but I write stories where everyone is enthusiastically on board with the program.
Still Inside Her
By: Holden Caine
I knew she was married before I ever touched her.
She made sure I knew.
It was in the way she said no at first—polite, distant, with just enough delay between my question and her answer to let the truth flicker. She wasn’t saying no because she didn’t want it. She was saying no because someone else had been promised yes. And when I leaned in close and asked her again—not with my voice, but with my palm sliding up her thigh beneath that elegant little dress—she didn’t say anything at all.
She just opened her legs.
She wanted to be taken, but more than that—she wanted to be used. Not degraded. Not shamed. Just fucked with intention. With knowledge. With a hand firm enough to leave its mark and a rhythm deep enough to make her forget every polite thing she’d ever been taught.
So that’s what I gave her.
I backed her against the wall the moment the door closed, tugged her tights halfway down, and kissed her like she was mine already. She kissed back harder. Desperate. Starved. Married.
When I pulled my cock out and slapped it against her clit, she was already soaked. And when I pressed the head inside—slow, firm, just past the tight heat that clutched at me like a secret—she moaned like someone who knew she shouldn’t.
“You gonna let me do this?” I whispered against her throat. “Gonna let me fuck you like you don’t have a husband refreshing your location?”
Her answer came in the way her hips chased me. The way she whimpered when I didn’t thrust fast enough. The way she said please without ever opening her mouth.
I fucked her against the wall. Then across the couch. Then bent her over the kitchen counter and held her there with one hand pressed to the back of her neck while the other circled her clit until she came hard enough to spasm around me. Her whole body shook like she wasn’t ready for what I’d unlocked.
But I wasn’t finished.
“You’re gonna take all of it,” I told her, grinding in deep, voice low and steady. “You’re gonna walk out of here with me still dripping out of you. You understand?”
She nodded. Barely.
And when I felt her start to come again, I held her tight and came inside her. Deep. Full. No hesitation. No condom. No pulling out.
I stayed there a moment—cock twitching, pussy milking me, her body trembling against the granite edge—before I leaned down and licked the sweat from her shoulder.
Then I told her what she needed to hear.
“You’re going home to him like this. You’re gonna let him kiss your thighs, your lips, your cunt—and he’s gonna taste me. He’s gonna know without asking. And you’re not gonna say a word. You’re just gonna smile. You’re gonna feed it to him.”
She shuddered when I said it.
And now she’s gone.
Hair a mess. Tights torn. Swollen and soaked and full of me. Sitting in the back of her rideshare while my cum leaks into her panties and her husband’s heart beats harder every time that little dot on his screen moves closer to home.
She’ll kiss him soft when she walks in.
And when he eats her out tonight,
he’ll think he’s winning.
But I’m the one
still inside her.
Damn, I honestly get excited over things like this. Is there a distinction between cuck and stag, or is it more up to the partners involved? I just got to wondering while reading this.
Regardless I could see being the husband waiting for his princess to come home. To share the spoils of her night and to describe everything she experienced.
I guess I don't exactly know what a stag is, but this does make me think it's more cuck related. I wouldn't want to be seen as such, just enjoying that my partner was happy and enjoying with them is what I imagine. Don't know if I made sense here or if I was just rambling.
Technically, any man whose wife is sleeping with another man is a “cuckold”. But in terms of kink/erotica, I think the distinction is ostensibly that a cuck’s thrill has an element of humiliation to it, whereas a stag-vixen dynamic is more about the husband simply enjoying seeing his wife with another man.
In reality, I think there’s a pretty thin line between the two - which is kind of where I try to land my stories. A little light humiliation can be fun, but I write stories where everyone is enthusiastically on board with the program.
Enthusiastically on board, that's exactly what I like to hear about!