So I Married A Cuck
Tony is on his honeymoon with his loving new husband. He is NOT going to cheat on him… um… probably…
I’ve made a huge mistake.
That was the thought that plagued me ever since Richie and I said “I do” on that windy beach in Miami, surrounded by our friends and family and a thousand shitting seagulls.
I thought it in the hotel room that night, when I tried to fuck my new husband but he complained of a headache—too much champagne, I guess—and left me with blue balls on my own wedding night.
I thought it the next morning, when I tried to slip it in him but he told me he was hungover and we needed to hurry up if we were going to catch our flight to Costa Rica, anyway.
I thought it on the plane, as I looked out the window and realized that I would never, ever, ever fuck anyone else for the rest of my life.
I’d never been with a man before Richie. I was as straight as they came—a bit of a womanizer, actually. I was a beefy Italian guy, blessed with pretty hefty pecs and a thick pelt of dark hair on my chest and belly that women went wild for. And boy, did I go wild for women. I loved sucking on tits, and I loved even more when a chick would grab my chest and pinch my nipples while I was balls-deep in her pussy. With how much snatch I got on a regular basis, I’d never even thought of banging another dude.
Until I met Richie.
He was sexier than any man had a right to be, with auburn hair that turned fiery red when it caught the light. He was short, smooth, and in even better shape than I was, with a tight little core and an ass you just had to bury yourself in.
We’d met at a bar (a straight one) and got to chatting about football and beer. I didn’t even know he was gay till he put his hand on my leg.
“So,” he’d said casually, sipping his beer like he wasn’t stroking my thigh with his other hand, “you want the best blowjob of your life?”
I’d been too shocked to respond. I was just about to decline when I noticed my dick was hard.
Richie noticed it, too.
Five minutes later, I was getting what truly was the best blowjob in my life in the bathroom of a sports bar, biting my fist to stifle my moans as I came in Richie’s mouth.
That was the beginning of six months of incredible, non-stop, mind-blowing sex. Richie was something called a power bottom, which meant he could take my dick for hours without complaint, going round after round as he milked me dry. He was more into sex than even the most sexed out chick I’d ever banged, so much so that I was the one who had to pump the brakes half the time. I’d wake up in the middle of the night to his sweet mouth on my cock, and before I knew it, I was back inside him, pumping away. I had gone from gay virgin to completely addicted to mansex, filling Richie with at least two or three loads a day.
Somehow, some way, we went from friends with benefits on the DL to openly dating. Richie had a way of getting what he wanted without me realizing I was agreeing to anything. Soon he was meeting my family, gossiping with my mother, chatting with my father about politics and the fucking Miami Dolphins, for Christ’s sake.
Then he asked me to marry him.
“Tony Moretti, will you make me the luckiest man in the world?” he’d asked, kneeling in the middle of Nobu.
I’d been completely floored. Wasn’t I supposed to be the one to propose? I was the top, the man in the relationship, wasn’t I? But I loved him, and I loved the sex, so of course I said yes.
That was the beginning of the end.
Once I’d agreed to marry him, the sex started to dry up. We went from 2-3 times a day to once a day to once a week. I was horny as a dog, but he always seemed to have an excuse. By the time the wedding rolled around, I was lucky to get laid twice a month. I figured it was the stress of wedding planning, but anytime I tried to pitch in and help, he’d say, “I got it, Tony.”
The morning of our wedding, it finally hit me: once I said “I do,” I would never fuck anyone else again. We’d had the talk about monogamy and open relationships, but the thought of Richie with someone else made my blood boil, so we quickly dropped it. I couldn’t step out on him, no matter how little sex I was getting. I was raised to believe a guy was faithful to his wife (or husband, I guess) no matter what. But the fact remained that I’d never even been with another guy besides Richie—now, it seemed, I never would.
“Isn’t this place just incredible?” Richie’s head spun around, eyes wide as he took in the resort. The villas were spread out through the jungle, connected by stone paths and string lights. Open-air restaurants sat scattered about, with ceiling fans swirling around the hot, humid air as guests dined on gallo pinto and tropical fruit.
“You’ll be staying in our honeymoon villa,” said our guide, a young man with dark tan skin and a button-down shirt open to the middle of his chest. I could see one of his nipples, dark brown and hard. He turned and flashed me a smile. “There’s plenty of… privacy.”
I felt a jolt to my dick. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was flirting with me. Probably just part of the job.
Richie grabbed my hand and squeezed. “That sounds so nice, doesn’t it, babe?”
“As long as it has AC,” I said, trying to get my dick to calm down.
The bellhop used an old-fashioned iron key to unlock the door to our villa. It opened straight onto a private deck, with a plunge pool waiting just beyond the sliding doors. The living room was a cozy little suite with a couch, television, and a small kitchenette, while a king-sized four-poster bed filled most of the bedroom.
“If you need anything at all during your stay, please let me know,” said the man. He turned directly to me and said, almost too low for Richie to hear, “Ask for Antonio.”
Aaaand my dick was hard. Fuck, his ass looked so good in those linen shorts. What I wouldn’t give to pull them down, throw him on the bed, suck on those hard nipples, and spread those beautiful tanned–
“I’m starving.” Richie clung to my arm. “What say we get some dinner. Huh, babe?”
I blinked away visions of raw sex with Antonio. “Sure.”
Now that the sun had set, the resort was lit up in a pale yellowish-orange glow. It felt even more lively at night, with festive music blasting from indoor speakers and blending from one villa to the next. We stopped at a restaurant called Casa Amontillado, which sat slightly uphill from the beach. It was open on three sides, all dark wood and hanging lanterns, the warm air smelling like citrus and smoked meat.
Richie loved it immediately.
Our waiter approached as soon as we sat down. He was young and wiry, with dark hair pulled back loosely. Like most of the staff, he was tanned and Latin American, and like Antonio, his shirt was unbuttoned one button too many for someone on the job.
“Good evening,” he said in a sexy, accented voice. “I’m Santiago. Welcome to Casa Amontillado.”
His fingertips brushed mine as he handed me the menu. He grabbed a pitcher of water and tipped it over my glass, leaning over me as he filled it. I could see into his shirt now, notice the top of his washboard stomach and the lower curves of his pecs. I had always been into nipples, stemming from my days fucking women. Nothing was hotter than sucking on a pair of tits while some hot piece of ass was in my lap, guy or girl. And Santiago’s nipples were so hard and brown, perfect to pinch and chew and–
Shit. How long had I been staring?
“Is this your first night with us?” He filled Richie’s water but kept his eyes on me.
“It’s our honeymoon,” Richie chimed in. “We’ve only been here a few hours, but I’m in love already!”
“The resort is very beautiful,” Santiago agreed. “I know of some gorgeous hikes you two may enjoy. Perfect for newlyweds…” He looked at me as he added, “or lovers.”
My dick pulsed in my shorts.
“We’re definitely going to do a ton of hiking,” Richie agreed. “And I have us booked for a boat trip around the southern coast, a mid-day siesta, I’m thinking dinner at 6…”
Jesus. He’d already planned out every minute.
Santiago and I shared a look that showed he was thinking the same thing I was. “You will have to visit the spa,” he said. “The couple’s massage is very sensual.”
“Oooh, that could be fun!” Richie cooed.
When Santiago turned to leave, the tail end of his shirt knocked my fork off the table.
“So sorry, let me get that for you.”
“Don’t worry–”
“Please,” he said, sinking to his knees.
I almost let out a gasp seeing him on the ground in front of me, eyes locked on mine as he reached for the fork by my feet. I looked away, uncertain whether I’d be able to keep from popping an obvious stiffy if I looked at him any longer. Then he put his hand on my leg as he pushed back up to his feet.
Well. Not quite my leg.
“Mmmmm…” I let out a quiet moan as Santiago squeezed my hard cock. His fingers closed around it as he rose to his feet, his body shielding our transgression from my husband’s view. I finally locked eyes with him again to see him mouth, “so thick.”
I could barely hide the lust from my gaze. If my new husband hadn’t been sitting right across from me, I don’t think anything in the world would have stopped me from grabbing his hand, bending him over that table, and sinking deep inside that tight fucking–
“What are your specials tonight?” Richie asked cheerily.
Santiago let go of my cock, turning to face my husband with a smile. “Chilean sea bass in a lemon sauce and a mushroom risotto with red crema sauce.”
Richie raised his eyebrows at me. “What do you think, honey? Wanna get both and split them?”
I glanced from Santiago’s cocky grin to my husband. “S-sure, hon. Whatever you say.”
I had trouble focusing the rest of the evening. Feeling him grab my cock right in front of my husband felt so… hot. I felt guilty, of course, but that was almost part of the thrill. Knowing that Richie was right there, completely oblivious...
But I couldn’t do that to Richie. Could I? I’d sworn the rest of my life to this man. This sexy, gorgeous, muscular hunk with the tightest ass I’d ever fucked and the juiciest pecs I loved sucking on. Well, I used to love sucking on. Richie hadn’t let me fuck him in what felt like ages, and my dick was so hard, I wasn’t thinking straight–
“Babe, I’m not feeling so hot.”
I snapped out of my reverie to see Richie leaning against the table, his hand to his stomach.
“What’s wrong?”
Richie shook his head. “I don’t know. I think I’m just not used to how rich the food is. Probably overdid it on that risotto.” He smiled sheepishly at me. “Do you mind if I head to bed early? I know it’s only 8 o’clock, but I just think I need to lie down.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
He waved me off. “No, enjoy yourself! Have a cocktail for me, okay? I’m sure I’ll be right as rain in the morning.”
He stood, kissed me deeply, and smiled. “I’m so happy to be your husband, babe.”
I felt a sudden wave of guilt for my adulterous fantasies. “You too, hon.”
As he walked away, I spotted Santiago standing across the restaurant, his eyes following Richie out, then trailing over to me as his face spread in a wide grin.
Absolutely not. There was no way I could betray my husband like that. Not when we’d barely been married 24 hours.
I would stay true to him no matter what.
“You’re such a good kisser.”
“Shut up.” I slid my hand under Santiago’s shirt, tracing his fuzzy abs until I got to those sexy brown nipples. I kissed him deeply, pinching his nipple and making him cry out in my mouth.
“Fuck, do that again.”
I ripped open his shirt, tearing off a couple of buttons, but neither of us cared—soon my mouth was latched onto his chest, my tongue swirling around one of his delicious nipples as we rubbed our dicks together.
“My villa is just over here,” he said as I kissed his neck. “We don’t need to fuck in the jungle.”
“Can’t wait,” I grunted. “Need my dick in your mouth.”