Hello everyone,
You all remember the Hakeem tent confession, where my fiancé sat two feet away and watched that old man spread me, finger me, circle my clit till I moaned like a cheap whore right in front of him. That day ruined me in the best way.
Last night, 31st December 2025, the training finally made me take a real cock that wasn’t his.
I wore the tiniest black crop top, micro pleated skirt, lace thigh-high stockings, red push-up bra and matching red lace thong. We went to a normal crowded club. My fiancé was sitting alone at a drinking table, kissed me and told me, “Go dance, explore, flirt, have fun. I’m watching.”
I started dancing alone on the floor. I could feel eyes on me, but one pair kept catching mine. The same tall, bearded Punjabi guy from before. He was leaning against the bar, gold chain shining, staring openly. Sometimes he’d look away, sip his drink, then his eyes would come right back to me, slow and hungry. Every time we locked eyes my stomach flipped and I felt myself getting wetter.
After a few songs he finally walked over. No words at first, just slid behind me, hands on my waist, pulling me back against him. We grinded close, his body hard against mine. His hands slowly moved up, cupped my boobs over the crop top, rubbed and squeezed them gently while we danced. My nipples got rock hard under the thin fabric and bra. I didn’t stop him, just pressed back harder.
We danced like that for some time, his hands on my boobs, grinding slow and heavy. Then he leaned down to my ear and asked low, “Would you like to enjoy more?”
I nodded without thinking. He took my hand and led me to the lift. We went down to the basement car parking, quiet and dark, only a few cars and dim lights.
He found a corner behind a big SUV, flipped my skirt up, pulled my thong roughly to the side, yanked my bra down letting my tits spill out, and bent me over the cold bonnet of the car. In one thrust he pushed his thick cock deep inside my already soaked pussy. He fucked me raw — hard, fast, relentless — gripping my hair in his fist, yanking my head back while his other hand slapped my ass hard with every deep stroke. The sound of skin slapping echoed in the empty basement as he growled dirty words, calling me his little randi, asking if I loved getting fucked by a stranger while my man waited upstairs. I was moaning loudly, completely lost, begging him to fuck me harder, deeper. The intense pleasure built so fast that I came hard the first time, my pussy clenching and squirting around his cock. He didn’t stop, pounding me even faster through my orgasm until I came a second time, legs shaking uncontrollably. Finally he groaned, buried himself balls-deep, and pumped his hot cum deep inside me, filling me completely before pulling out.
My phone was blowing up, 3-4 missed calls from my fiancé. I quickly messaged “in restroom” and called him back once the guy was gone.
In the car I told him everything. He was angry for exactly one minute. “I only told you to explore… actually I wanted it to slowly lead to a threesome tonight, but you jumped straight to cheating.” Then he took a deep breath and said, “It’s my fault, I started this whole training. It’s okay, you enjoyed it, that’s what matters.”
He asked if I took the guy’s number. I did.
He smiled dark and said, “Call him tomorrow or day after, tell him everything. If he’s up for it, this Sunday the three of us are doing it properly together.”
So 2026 started with a stranger’s cum leaking out of me in the very first hour of the new year, and now my fiancé is arranging my first real threesome with that same guy this weekend.