u/SilkyVine

Author’s note: Hi, thanks for stopping by! This time around I wanted to try something a little bit more wholesome than usual. This one, focuses on a Loving Wife who wants to do something special for her hardworking man. I had fun writing this one, imagining all the little ways someone can spoil their partner. So please enjoy this short story about a dutiful wife doing anything she can to please her man. As always, let me know what you think in the comments! (I wrote this for Steak and Blowjob day 2026 but never got around to posting it)

I wanted to spoil my man. He’d been working so much overtime at the shop lately. He had been coming home late and I could see the stress wearing him down.

It was Friday afternoon, and I’d spent the whole day making the house neat and cozy, just the way he liked it. The TV was already set to the game, a couple of cold beers lined up in the fridge. I glanced at the clock, I noted that he would be home any minute now. The thought of seeing the look on his face made my stomach flutter. I was excited, a little nervous, and crazy horny.

I’d already freshened up with a shower and a spritz of my most seductive perfume, but now it was time to get into costume. In the bedroom, I slid into a lacy lingerie set, black with little satin bows, naturally, it hugged my curves just right. Then I tied on a simple apron that only reached halfway down my thighs, a cheeky little cover.

I leaned in close to the mirror, applying just enough makeup to brighten my eyes and put a shine on my lips. Nothing too heavy. Tonight, I wanted to look like a wife, not a whore. Just his Becky, all dressed up to please.

That’s when I heard it: the rumble of Rick’s truck pulling into the driveway, the faint thump of music still beating through the cab. My heart gave a jump. I hurried to the front door, smoothing the apron over my hips, as I stood tall.

When he stepped inside, he looked tired. Work-stained and rough around the edges, but still he looked impossibly handsome to me. I felt a familiar warmth rush through me, and I had to bite back a moan.

“Hello, my handsome husband,” I said, voice teasing and singsong, tilting my head just so and posing in the doorway like an old pin-up photo.

Rick’s eyes widened slightly, then darkened with appreciation. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as a smirk tugged at his lips. “Well, well,” he said, stepping closer. “What’s all this then?” He reached out and grabbed my ass, giving it a playful squeeze.

“Uh-uh, not yet,” I chided, swatting his hands lightly as I leaned up to peck him on the lips.

“Now, give me your coat and go take a seat in the living room. I have the game ready for you. I’ll be back with a beer,” I said, turning to hang his jacket on the rack.

As I moved into the kitchen, I smiled to myself. I had been to the store earlier and picked out a juicy cut of Rick’s favorite steak and the oven had been preheating. I brushed the steak with oil, seasoned it perfectly, and stuck a meat thermometer into its center before sliding it into the oven.

Grabbing a cold beer from the fridge, I popped the top with a satisfying hiss and carried it into the living room. Rick was just about to bend down to unlace his boots when I arrived. Instead, I gently pushed him back into the recliner and handed him the beer.

Dropping to my knees in front of him, I let my gaze linger up at him, knowing this angle gave him the perfect view of my tits spilling out of the lingerie beneath the apron. Slowly, deliberately, I began unlacing his boots. I made sure to take plenty of time, gazing up at him as he sipped his beer and drank in the sight of me.

Once his boots were loose, I slid them off carefully and reached for his feet, cupping one in my hands and letting my thumbs press into the arch.

“Long day, huh?” I murmured, my voice soft and teasing. “Let me take care of you.”

Rick leaned back, a satisfied groan escaping him as I kneaded the tension from his feet. I took my time, pressing into every knot, rolling my thumbs along the arches and heels.

I looked up at him, letting him see the tiny smile tugging at my lips, the way my eyes sparkled as I worked. Every so often, I let my hands trail higher, brushing against his calves, letting him feel the warmth of my skin, the gentle pressure of my touch.

“Becky…” he murmured, and I could hear the edge of desire in his voice. That little sound made my heart race. I leaned closer, pressing my cheek briefly against his shin, just to tease him more.

“You like that?” I whispered, letting my fingers massage a little firmer, tracing circles that sent shivers up his legs. His hand twitched slightly on his knee as he tried to keep his composure.

I took my time with every movement, making sure he could see me enjoying it as much as he was.

I finished one foot and started on the next, making him feel good until he finished his beer.

“A top up?” I asked

He just grinned and wiggled the empty bottle at me. I smirked, took it, and made my way back to the kitchen.

After cleaning my hands from the foot massage, I turned my attention to the steak. The oven had done its work, and the cut was perfect. It was juicy, pink and almost ready for the final flourish. I heated my seasoned cast iron skillet until the oil started to lightly smoke, preparing to give the steak a golden, caramelized crust that would seal in every drop of flavor.

Next, I checked the onions I had been slowly caramelizing while the steak cooked. Sweet, golden strands that smelled heavenly, soft and sticky.

I grabbed two slices of thick Turkish bread and slid them into the toaster, letting a warm, crisp crust form while I arranged the rest of the fillings. A handful of crisp mixed greens, a few thick slices of ruby-red heirloom tomatoes, and a smear of the creamy, tangy sauce I’d whipped up earlier. Then, of course, the golden caramelized onions, glistening and sweet, ready to nestle perfectly atop the steak.

By the time the steak hit the pan, the aroma of sizzling meat and sweet onions filled the kitchen, making my mouth water almost as much as I knew his would. I flipped it carefully, letting the edges brown, juices bubbling, knowing that once it was layered onto that perfectly toasted bread, it would be utterly irresistible.

I let myself savor the thought of him biting into it: tender, juicy meat, warm caramelized onions, crisp toast, fresh greens, tangy sauce. It would be the perfect combination of flavors. Indulgent and satisfying.

Once the steak was ready, I let it rest for a moment, then sliced it thickly, letting the juices mingle with the sweet onions. I piled the slices high onto the toast, tucking in the greens, tomatoes, and onions, coating every bite with sauce, until the sandwich looked decadent enough to make anyone weak in the knees.

I popped the top off another beer with a satisfying hiss and cradled my culinary bounty in my hands, ready to escort it to my husband. The look on his face when he caught sight of me made my chest tighten in the most delicious way.

“That smells fucking delicious, Becky,” he said, his voice thick with appreciation.

I just smiled, letting my fingers brush lightly over his thigh as I popped his beer into the cup holder of the recliner and handed him the sandwich, cut in two for easy handling.

I like to think I am a good wife. We have our tensions, of course, like any married couple but mostly we are madly in love. However, I don't often spoil my husband to this extent. So, today, I wanted to go the extra mile.

And what do men love more than steak? Well, that was easy: Blowjobs.

Rick took a big bite, and a low, guttural groan of pleasure immediately escaped him. My pulse spiked, and I didn’t hesitate. My hand slid down to his crotch, massaging him through his pants.

“Is that good?” I asked softly

His eyes went wide, a flicker of surprise and arousal crossing his features as he chewed, trying to speak. I pressed a finger gently to his lips.

“Shh… just enjoy,” I whispered, leaning closer so he could feel my warm breath against his jaw.

I could feel how hard he was through the fabric, half-swollen and straining for attention. My hands were already itching to free him, to take care of him the way I’d been craving since the moment I decided to spoil him. Slowly, teasingly, I unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, and eased my hand inside to cradle him in my palm.

“Mmm, there’s my big boy,” I purred, letting my fingers tighten around him as my eyes roamed over the thick, veined cock before me. He looked so hot, so demanding, and even more mouthwatering than the fucking delight I’d just whipped up in the kitchen.

The game droned on in the background, forgotten by both of us, as I leaned forward, letting my tongue flick teasingly along the underside of his shaft. He groaned, deep and guttural and this time it wasn’t because of the sandwich.

I took the head into my mouth, swirling my tongue slowly circles. I could feel him growing, thickening and hardening under my ministrations, veins pulsing as I sucked him deeper. My own moan slipped past my lips, unexpectedly as I pressed closer, letting the subtle scent and taste of him drive me wild.

Kneeling higher, I eased more of him into my throat, savoring the stretch and the way his hips pressed slightly forward, urging me onward. Halfway down, I hit the back of my throat, felt the burn and tightness but I wasn’t done. Pulling back just enough to catch my breath, I slid back in, slow and steady, letting my rhythm find a natural, teasing cadence.

I kept my eyes locked on him, drinking in every twitch of his body, every shiver that ran from his thighs up his spine. My hands never stopped stroking along the base in tandem with my mouth, pulling him closer, encouraging him to lose himself.

Dutifully kneeling at his feet. I pressed on, deep and deliberate, teasing, tasting, coaxing him to the edge again and again, letting my own excitement ride the waves of his growing need.

I could feel him straining in my hand and mouth, still holding that sandwich in the other, nibbling between deep, needy groans. The thought made me grin from the inside out .He was so distracted, trying to enjoy both, and I loved the challenge.

Could I finish him before he finished my sandwich?

He groaned around the bite of bread, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, trying to chew and swallow while I lavished attention on him. Every flick of my tongue, every slow glide of my lips sent him shivering, hips twitching involuntarily, and I felt my own heat rise between my legs.

I could hear the soft crunch of bread, the squish of sauce, the little moans he tried to stifle, and it only spurred me on. My hands worked in perfect harmony with my mouth, stroking the base and teasing the sensitive underside, encouraging him to lose focus, to forget the sandwich entirely.

I let my lips slide over the tip before swallowing and taking him deeper again. My tongue circled, swirled, flicked. Every motion was designed to make him forget everything else except me.

The sight of him trying to balance each delicious bite with the growing pleasure I was giving him, eyes half-rolling, lips trembling around the sandwich, made a wicked thrill coil in my belly.

I leaned closer, letting my chest brush against his legs, letting the heat of my body, the wet press of my mouth, and the teasing rhythm of my tongue remind him I was here to service his every need.

He was down to the last bite of his sandwich and I was deep on him now, bobbing slowly, letting my lips and throat take him fully. I gagged lightly, letting him hear it, knowing it only made him tighten in my hands and groan. My tongue swirled around the head, sliding along the sensitive underside, stroking him in tandem with the pressure of my hand at the base, drawing him closer..

He popped the last morsel of my delicious steak sandwich into his mouth, pausing mid-chew as a groan escaped his lips and he tensed beneath me. His eyes closed, and I could feel every tremor, every pulse, as my mouth and throat worked him to the edge.

“Mmm, fuck… Becky,” he murmured, muffled through the bite, and his heavy load filled my mouth and throat. I held him firmly, meeting each shudder with my lips and tongue, letting my mouth swallow, glug, and take every inch of him as his cum spilled into my throat. Warm and thick, he filled me as I let myself moan around him, enjoying the taste, the texture and the sheer pleasure of getting him off.

I pulled back slowly, letting him catch his breath, the salty taste of him still lingering in my mouth. My lips curled into a satisfied smile as I stood, brushing my hands over my apron.

“Let’s get you a fresh drink,” I said, heading to the kitchen to get another cold beer from the fridge.

When I returned Rick leaned back in the recliner, still flushed and smiling, eyes glinting with appreciation. “You’re incredible, Becky,” he murmured, voice rough.

I smirked, handing him the fresh beer and letting my fingers brush his thigh as I passed it over. “I like to take care of my man,” I teased. “You earned it.”

Once the beer was settled in his hand, I returned to the kitchen and cleaned up the few crumbs of the sandwich and wiped the counter, taking a moment to relish how good it felt to spoil him. The kitchen smelled faintly of steak and onions, a reminder of the little treat I’d planned for him.

I sauntered back into the living room, leaning casually against the arm of the recliner. He sipped his beer, and I let my eyes travel over him, playful and hungry all over again.

“You know,” I murmured, tilting my head and giving him a slow, teasing smile, “the game’s still on, but I think you might need a little dessert before it’s over.”

Rick chuckled, shaking his head, still smiling that soft, lazy smile that made my chest flutter. He raised his beer in a small, appreciative salute, and I leaned down, brushing my lips against his cheek in a quick, teasing kiss.

We sat together for the rest of the game, the soft hum of the TV in the background, laughing and sipping our drinks. I felt wickedly pleased with myself. Tonight had been about spoiling him, teasing him, and reminding him that he is appreciated and loved immensely.

By the time the final whistle blew on the game, we were both still smiling, close, and content. I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder, and let the cozy, warmth of the night wash over us.

“Next time,” I whispered, lips brushing his ear, “I think I’ll start with dessert first.”

Rick groaned softly, laughter and desire mixing in his voice. “You’re insatiable,” he said, and I grinned, knowing he loved every second of it as he lifted from the recliner, carrying me easily to the bedroom.

I know this makes me sound like a total petty slut, but I don’t even care. It was worth every second.

A year ago my boyfriend of 2+ years left me out of nowhere for this new girl he’d been talking to. He said she was ‘different’ and that he was ‘in love.’ It fucking destroyed me at the time so I spent months crying and working on myself, and getting hotter than ever.

Fast forward a year and I ran into him at a mutual friend’s party. He was still with her so it was totally awkward, but the second he saw my signature tight black dress with no bra he couldn’t stop staring. We started texting ‘just to catch-up” and I told him I was doing well but within a week the flirting got filthy. He eventually admitted he how much more eager and nasty I was in bed compared to her.

So, I went full slut mode.

The first night I invited him over ‘to talk.’ and the moment the door closed I pushed him onto the couch, dropped to my knees and started sucking his cock. He was rock hard in seconds so then I climbed on top, straddled him, and slowly sank down onto his dick. God, it felt good to take control.

While I was riding him deep and grinding against him, I looked him straight in the eyes and said, “Tell me whose pussy feels better.” He tried to dodge it at first, but I stopped moving and squeezed around him until he groaned. “Yours… fuck, yours feels so much tighter and wetter,” he finally admitted. I smirked and started bouncing harder, making him say it again and again. How I ride him like a slut, how my tits bounce better, how I get so creamy and loud when I cum compared to her boring af self.

I rode him until my legs were shaking, then switched to reverse cowgirl so he could watch my ass clap on his cock while I made him keep talking: “She never fucks me like this… she doesn’t get this wet… I think about you when I’m inside her.” Every comparison made me wetter and more turned on. I came so hard on him I soaked his lap, and soon after he shot his load into me while moaning my name. I made him take pictures of my filled pussy for a “souvenir”.

It didn’t stop there. Over the next few weeks I kept texting him whenever I was horny. We fucked in his car, in hotel rooms, and once in the bathroom at another party while she was downstairs waiting for him. Every time I made him compare us out loud, about how much better I deep throat him, how I let him fuck me however he wants, how my pussy grips him when I’m riding reverse and twerking on his dick. I even made him describe what her pussy felt like while he was balls-deep in mine, just to hear him admit I was superior.

I loved sending him pics and voice notes too, moaning and describing his cum dripping out of me knowing he’d have to hide his phone from her.

The constant lies and guilt eventually destroyed them. They started fighting non-stop and she found flirty messages and suspicious hickeys until a couple months ago I heard through friends that they finally broke up.

He naturally tried crawling back to me afterwards, but I just laughed and told him I got exactly what I wanted: I turned the girl he left me for into the one who got cheated on and dumped.

Was it petty and evil? Absolutely. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat.

I Still get soaked just thinking about riding him while he betrayed her.

I (F24) decided I wanted to end my hoe phase. So I went on a super sweet first date. There was dinner, great conversation and lots of laughing meanwhile he was a gentleman the whole time: he opened doors, paid for dinner, and offered to drive me home. When we got to my apartment building he parked and we started making out. It was getting really hot and heavy, his hands were everywhere and my dress was riding up my thighs.

That’s when I told him I’m not that kinda girl and that I wasn’t planning on sleeping with him on the first date… but I was so turned on so I offered to suck his cock instead. He did not hesitate to pull it out so I leaned over the console, taking him in my mouth. He was thick and rock hard, and I was getting wetter by the second as I was bobbing on him.

Halfway through sucking him I just couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled my mouth off his cock with a pop, I looked him in the eyes and said “fuck it.” I climbed over the console, pushed my panties to the side, and sank down onto his bare cock right there in the front seat. Damn, It felt so fucking good too. I started riding him hard, my tits bouncing in his face while the steering wheel dug into my back.

It was super awkward and super cramped, but neither of us cared. After a few minutes he growled “backseat” so we both scrambled over. I ended up on all fours while he got behind me and railed me deep and fast. He fucked me so hard the whole car was rocking. I came twice. Once while riding him in the front, and once when he was pounding me from behind in the back seat.

He finally pulled out and came all over my ass and lower back while I was still shaking.

I walked into my apartment with his cum still on me, legs wobbly, feeling like the biggest slut for going from “Just dinner” to “just a blowjob” to getting railed on a first date.

10/10 would do it again.

It really was the best first date ever, but we never did see each other again.

Disclaimer: Everyone in this story is over the age of eighteen. The story has been embellished for your entertainment.

I never thought I could do something like I did that night. This is the story of when I cheated on my boyfriend…

“Libby,” Ben was already unsteady on his feet as he spoke “Don’t act crazy. I’m not going to get that drunk…”

I rolled my eyes. I had heard it a hundred times before.

“You made me a promise, mister.” I tried to play it off as a joke, but there was already an edge to my voice.

“Don’t worry,” he slurred, “I perform my best work when I’ve been drinking.”

You don’t, I thought bitterly.

Before I could argue further the door opened and one of Ben’s friends appeared.

“Hey Lib,” he smiled, clearly already as drunk as Ben was he unashamedly ran his eyes up and down my body.

Ben didn’t notice. He never seemed to notice.

“Hey, Chuck.” I smiled politely. I was never the biggest fan of most of Ben’s friends, least of all Chuck.

His girlfriend, Rachel appeared at his shoulder.

“Libby!” she squealed when she saw me.

Chuck was Ben’s best friend and Rachel was his long-time on-again off-again ‘situationship’

I wasn’t particularly fond of Ben’s friends, but I can’t say they didn’t try to include me. Tonight, it was Chuck’s 21st and they were throwing a party at his house.

Rachel screamed as a flash of light lit us up followed by a loud crack of thunder.

“eek, get inside,” she dragged us both into the house.

“C’mon, bro, let me get you another beer,” Nodding to Ben’s drink, Chuck led him away.

I shot Chuck a look before he went. I hated when he left me alone with his friends and he knew it. Especially at a party like this – we had only been dating for 3 months and I knew I would hardly know anyone here.

The look he returned said he didn’t care.

Rachel had organized and therefore set the theme for Chuck’s birthday party and she had chosen “Y2K Retro” so the room was full of long sleeve shirts worn under t-shirts. Low-rise jeans, converse, and pretty much every, flat, female tummy in the room was on show. Including mine.

I was feeling self-conscious in my fit now, I had chosen some small black heels, fishnet thigh-highs, a red and black plaid skirt that sat just about my fishnets and a cropped, black T with “princess” across the front and a pink crown on the back.

It wasn’t any more revealing than any other girls outfit but I still felt out of place, they all already knew each other.

“I can’t believe it,” I muttered, annoyed that Ben ditched me like this. I moved further into the party to go and find him. There must be 50 people inside the house alone, and 20 more braving the oncoming storm in the backyard. Though, fortunately for them, the backyard had some sheltered areas.

I found Ben in the kitchen, holding court like he owned the place. His voice boomed over the bass as he retold some dumb story from last semester as he clutched a fresh beer.

I hovered in the doorway for a second, arms crossed under my chest. I was aware of my skirt riding up as I shifted and the fishnets done nothing to stop the cool draft from the open back door. Thunder rumbled outside again, louder this time and the lights even flickered.

A couple of guys laughed a little too hard and one girl, wearing a baby tee that said “JUICY” in glitter, kept touching his arm like he was the funniest guy around.

“Ben,” I called, trying to keep my tone light, he didn’t even glance my way.

Chuck cracked another drink beside me, “He’s in his element, Lib. Let the man live.”

I shot him a look, “He promised he wouldn’t get wasted tonight.”

Chuck just smirked as his eyes dripped down to the strip of bare skin between my top and skirt before flicking back up. “Relax. It’s a party. That’s what you do. You look like you could use a drink yourself.”

Before I could answer a voice cut in behind us, thick with amusement.

“Chuck, always handing out poor advice.”

I turned. The guy standing there was taller than most of the room. His broad shoulders made his simple white long-sleeved undershirt and baggy jeans look effortlessly cool. Early 2000s vibes for sure, but he wore it better than the rest. His sleeves were pushed to his elbows, a sliver chain rested against his collarbone. He had dark hair, a sharp jaw and dark eyes that met mine, instead of my body.

Chuck laughed, “Jake, my man. Glad you showed. This… is Libby. Ben’s girl.”

Jake’s warm gaze settled on me and I was appreciative it wasn’t sleazy like Chuck’s. “Libby,” he said, offering a small nod. “Nice to meet you. Wow, you are doing the Y2K thing justice.” he gestured at my clothes.

Heat prickled up my neck as I tugged at the hem, “Thanks… I feel a little silly.”

Jake smiled, “You are pulling it off.”

Ben’s laugh exploded again from the kitchen, louder this time. He started to shotgun a beer with another guy, missing half of it as it ran down his shirt. The “JUICY” girl squealed and wiped at his chest with a paper towel, her hand lingering way too long.

I felt my jaw tighten.

Jake seemed to notice, “right, Ben’s girl…” he trailed off.

“Yeah,” The word came out flatter than I intended.

He didn’t push. Instead, he nodded toward the living room. “Storm’s getting nasty out there. Power could go out any minute. Want to grab a drink while they’re still cold?”

I hesitated for a half a second. Ben was right there. Not that I thought anything would actually happen tonight with the “Juicy” slut but he hadn’t looked over at me. Not even once.

“Sure,” I said. “Why not.”

Jake led the way, his confident touch lightly brushing the small of my back as we moved through the crowd. We ended up near a makeshift bar in the dining room where someone had lined up tonnes of bottles of liquor along with a few suspicious punch bowls glowing under a blacklight.

He poured me something pink and fruity that tasted like it could knock me on my ass if I wasn’t careful.

“So,” he said, leaning against the wall so we were facing each other, “three months with Ben, huh? How’s that going?”

I took a sip, the sweetness cutting through the stale beer smell in the air. “It’s… fine. He’s just having fun tonight.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, “He’s definitely having fun. You, on the other hand, look like you’re counting the minutes until you can leave.”

Thunder cracked hard enough to rattle the windows. The lights dimmed for a second time, then surged back. A few girls shrieked in excitement. In the kitchen, Ben’s voice rose even louder. He was now attempting some kind of dance.

I laughed despite myself, but it came out bitter. “He promised he wouldn’t get like this. Again.”

Jake’s eyes lingered on me for a beat “Some guys don’t know what they’ve got right in front of them.”

My stomach did a little flip. I told myself it was just the alcohol hitting fast but as he got a little bit closer I didn’t step back.

From the kitchen came another roar of laughter, followed by the unmistakable sound of glass shattering and then Ben’s voice “It’s all good, bro!”

I closed my eyes for a second. When I opened them, Jake was still watching me with that patiently interested look.

As the night went on, Ben got worse. It was exactly as I feared. He chugged more beer and then moved onto shots of cheap vodka. Every time I tried to pull him aside and suggest we call our ride he waved me off with that dumb drunken grin, “Chill Lib, It’s Chuckie’s birthday. We’re good.”

By midnight, he was barely coherent, draped over the kitchen counter while the juicy slut laughed at every dumb joke he made and kept “accidentally” brushing against him.

Jake was never far. He’d check in every so often and bring me a fresh drink and a quick joke. His compliments never stopped feeling good. “That skirt really does look killer,” when I passed him in the hall.

By 2 a.m. the party had thinned. The steady heavy rain was still falling on the roof creating white noise. Most people had either left, paired of into bedrooms or passed out on couches. The music was turned down to a low hum and empty cups and cans littered every surface. The air smelled like beer, weed and damp clothes.

I was done.

Ben had finally crashed, sprawled face down on the living room couch snoring loudly. With his stained shirt unbuttoned. I’d tried one last time around 1:30am to get him to call his mom to come get us before it was too late, but he’d mumbled some incoherent bullshit and then just wandered off. Now his phone was dead in his pocket and mine was on 12% with no signal because of the damn storm.

I stood over him, arms crossed tight under my princess tee, jaw clenched. My fishnet thigh-highs felt itchy, my feet hurt after hours in these heels and I had given up tugging at the hem of my skirt as it rode up. Anger flared in my chest. Three months of this same bullshit. Playing babysitter to a wannabe frat boy.

“Fucking idiot,” I muttered under my breath.

“need a minute?”

I turned. Of course it was Jake. His shirt was slightly rumpled now but he still looked good as the chain around his neck glinted in the dim light. Most of the remaining lights had been turned off or dimmed.

“Yeah,” I exhaled, “I’m pissed. He promised we’d leave at one at the latest. Refused to call the lift every single time I asked. Now he’s dead to the world and I am stuck here with nowhere to fucking sleep.”

Jake nodded, “Yeah, he’s not waking up anytime soon.”

“Great,” I rubbed my temples. The frustration was making my skin feel tight, “Just perfect.”

Jake pushed off the door frame and stepped closer, his voice low so that it wouldn’t carry to the few remaining conscious stragglers. “Come on. Let’s get some air. You look like you could use it.”

I hesitated only a second. Ben was out cold. He wouldn’t even notice I was gone and honestly after hours of being ignored, the idea of someone actually paying attention to me felt good.

“Fine,” I said, my voice softer than I meant, “Lead the way.”

Jake never touched me as we walked through the house but I was hyper-aware of him beside me now. The faint scent of his cologne cutting through the stale party smell. We slid open the back door and stepped onto the covered patio. The rain was still falling at a steady pace as cool mist drifted in from the edges. The backyard was dark and empty. It felt worlds away from the chaos of the night.

I leaned against the wooden railing letting the cool air wash over my bare midriff and legs. My nipples tightened against the thin fabric of my shirt from the chill, I crossed my arms, suddenly self conscious of how short everything was.

Jake stopped beside me, close enough that our shoulders brushed. He looked out at the rain as a streak of electricity lit the night sky before turning his gaze to me.

“Better?” he asked quietly

I nodded slowly though my heart was beating faster, “Yeah. Thanks. I just… can’t believe he did this again.”

For the first time, I noticed Jake’s eyes trace over my body, the way other guys did. Slowly, taking in the “Princess” lettering that stretched across my chest, the low waistband of my plaid skirt and the fishnets disappearing beneath the hem. I didn’t mind.

“Some guys don’t know what they have,” he said, his voice low, “Leaving a girl like you standing around all night in an outfit like that… it’s a crime.”

Heat flushed through me despite the cool air and I bit my lip. My anger at Ben mixed with the spark of Jake’s words to light a fire low in my belly.

“I shouldn’t be out here with you,” I whispered, but I didn’t move away.

Jake smiled, “Probably not.”

Inside the window, was the living room where Ben lay passed out on the couch surrounded by drunk bodies.

Jake took a small step closer, his hand meeting mine on the railing.

“So… what do you want to do now, Libby?”

I should’ve said something safe. Gone back inside. Checked on Ben. Called a cab.

Instead, I swallowed hard, the fruity drink still buzzing warm in my veins, mixing with the cold mist that pricked my bare stomach and thighs.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, my voice come out shaky. “I’m… I’m so fucking mad at him.” I nodded toward the window where Ben slept.

Jake didn’t smile, he just stepped in closed, close enough that I could feel the heat of his body against the cool night air. His hands lifted, slow and deliberate, he brushed a stray strand of hair from my face. His fingers waited to linger on my cheek for a second, his thumb traced my jaw.

“Then, don’t think about him,” he said quietly. “Not right now.”

and then he kissed me.

His mouth was warm and sure and tasted faintly of beer. The second our lips met the last bit of resistance in me snapped. I kissed him back, harder than I meant to. My hands fisted in the front of his shirt. A tiny sound escaped me. Half a moan and half a sigh. It made Jake emit a low noise in his throat that settled straight between my legs.

His hands slid down my sides, hot palms against the exposed skin above my skirt. One hand slipped under the hem of my cropped tee. His fingertips brushed the underside of my breasts. While the other gripped my hip, pulling me flush against him. I could feel how hard he was already through his pants. His hard cock pressing into my stomach made my head spin.

“God, you feel good,” he murmured against my mouth, breaking the kiss just enough to speak. His lips moved to my neck, teeth grazing the spot just below my ear. “Been thinking about this since I saw you in that skirt.”

I tilted my head back, letting him kiss lower. Cool little drops of rain landed on my collarbones and slid down between my breasts. My hands roamed up his chest, then around his neck, pulling him closer. Every time his fingers edged higher under my shirt or lower on my hip, another wave of heat rolled through me and the guilt that should’ve been there was nowhere to be found. All I could think was Ben’s passed out. He did this. He left me here.

Jake’s hand slid down the back of my thigh, under the short plaid skirt, palming the curve of my ass. He squeezed, pulling me tighter against him, and I gasped as I felt his fingers trace the edge of my panties.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” his voice rough.

I didn’t say anything. Instead I rocked my hips forward, grinding against the hard line of him, and kissed him again. My tongue met his and he groaned, lifting me just enough to set me on the wide wooden railing. My heels hooked behind his thighs, plaid skirt riding all the way up so the fishnets were fully on display. The cool wood pressed against the backs of my bare thighs, sending another shiver through me.

Jake’s hand moved between us, fingertips slipping under the waistband of my panties, teasing right where I was aching for him. “Fuck, Libby… you’re so wet already.”

I bit my lip to keep from moaning too loud. Inside the house, Ben was still snoring on the couch, dead to the world but I didn’t want anyone to hear...or see.

Jake’s fingers circled my clit slowly before they pressed inside me. Two at once and my head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as the rain kept falling around us.

This was happening… I was cheating on my boyfriend, and I didn’t want to stop.

Jake’s fingers curled inside me again, slow and deep, and I had to bite down hard on my lip to stop from moaning loud enough for the whole house to hear.

“They won’t hear… The storm.” he said, nodding to the sky.

He was right, I realized as the rain pattered steadily on the patio roof. No one would hear me over the thunder and rain. A bright streak of lightning shot across the sky and I realized someone could still see me though if they were right against the window.

My cropped “princess” tee was pushed up, revealing my hard, aching nipples. Jake took one in his mouth. “Fuck,” I gasped, hips rocking against his hand, “Jake...”

He pulled his fingers out slowly, leaving me empty and throbbing, then brought them to his mouth and licked them clean right in front of me. His eyes never left mine. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

I didn’t think, just reached down and yanked at the button of his jeans, shoving them and his boxers down far enough to free him. He was thick and hard, the head already slick. My fingers wrapped around him and stroked once, twice, feeling him twitch in my palm.

Jake groaned. “Condom?”

“Pill,” I breathed, not caring about anything else right now. “Just fuck me.”

He didn’t need telling twice.

He gripped my hips, lifted me slightly on the wide wooden railing, and pushed inside me in one smooth thrust. I was so wet he slid all the way in, stretching me open, filling me completely. We both moaned at the same time. Well, mine was more of a squeal and was louder than I meant it to be. The railing creaked under me as he started moving, deep and steady, every stroke hitting a perfect spot that made my eyes roll back.

“God, Libby… you’re so fucking tight,” he growled against my neck. One hand stayed on my hip, the other slid up to cup my breast, his thumb flicked over my nipple. My legs locked tighter around his waist, heels digging into the back of his thighs.

The rain kept falling around us. Every time he thrust in, the wet slap of skin mixed with the rain and the distant bass still humming inside the house. Ben was ten feet away, passed out cold on the couch, snoring like nothing in the world mattered.

And here I was, getting fucked by his best friend’s -- friend? Or cousin? I wasn’t sure, doesn’t matter -- on the back patio.

The thought sent a dirty thrill through me. I clenched around Jake and he cursed, picking up the pace, fucking me harder. My short skirt was bunched uselessly at my hips, my fishnets stretched tight over my thighs as they spread wider for him.

“Harder,” I whispered, voice breaking. “Please,”

Jake obliged. He slammed into me, deep and rough, making the railing shake beneath us. His hand left my breast and slipped between us, thumb finding my clit and rubbing tight circles. I was close already, the pressure building fast and hot in my belly.

“I’m gonna come,” I gasped as my nails dug into his shoulders through his shirt.

“Come on my cock,” he growled, voice rough. “Let me feel it.”

It hit me like a wave. I didn’t bother to muffle the cry as I came hard, pulsing around him, legs shaking. The orgasm rolled through me in long, shuddering waves, my whole body tightening and releasing around his thick length.

Jake fucked me through it, then groaned deep and buried himself to the hilt. “Fuck, Libby.” His hips stuttered, and I felt him come inside me, hot and pulsing, filling me up even as the rain continued to fall.

We stayed like that for a minute, breathing hard and still joined. His forehead rested against mine, both of us slick with sweat and rain. Slowly he pulled out, and I felt his cum trickle down my inner thigh, warm against the cool night air. I fixed my panties and tugged my skirt back down over the fishnets, but it didn’t change anything. I could still feel him between my legs and still taste him on my lips.

Jake kissed me once more. slow and gentle this time then fixed his pants and helped me down from the railing. My heels wobbled on the wet boards.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, brushing a strand of damp hair from my face.

I nodded. My legs felt like jelly. “Yeah. I… I shouldn’t have done that.”

He gave me a small smile. “But you did.”

We slipped back inside without another word. The house was dead quiet now. Ben was still exactly where I’d left him. Face-down on the couch, mouth open, snoring like a freight train. A thin line of drool ran down his chin. He hadn’t moved an inch. He hadn’t noticed a single thing.

I stood there for a second, looking at him, the anger from earlier completely gone. In its place was a quiet, empty feeling and underneath it, a strange, secret thrill that made my stomach flutter every time I shifted and felt Jake’s cum still leaking out of me into my ruined panties.

Jake touched my lower back one last time. “I’m gonna crash in a spare room. You good?”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Thanks.”

He disappeared down the hallway.

I curled up on the other end of the couch, careful not to wake Ben, and pulled a throw blanket over my legs. My plaid skirt was wrinkled, my fishnets had torn from the railing, and my cropped tee still smelled like Jake’s cologne. I closed my eyes, listening to Ben’s snoring mixed with the rain.

I never thought I could do something like I did that night.

But I did.

And the worst thing?

I didn’t regret it.

Not even a little.

Do you think I should feel guilty?