Notes: This is Part 1 of 2. Part 2 is much more heavy on kink, and this part serves more like an introduction to that. (Once it's published, I'll add a link here!)

This story features explicit cheating, and even though the man being cheated on is a dick, it's still not okay to cheat. It's pure fantasy, and doesn't reflect any real life morals.

While consent is implied, it's not explicitly established until the middle of the scene, and I think you can make a good argument that what Jack does in the beginning constitues assault. He doesn't touch Olivia or penetrate her without consent, though. Just wanted to clarify the *dubious consent* tag in the title, in case that's important to any readers.

This story, including all names and people, is entirely fictional and not based on any real life experiences or events.

Boisterous laughter surrounds me, and I can’t even muster a smirk. Not that I have any idea what everyone thinks is so funny, but smiling for appearances sake would probably be best. How did I get to this point, that I can’t even do that?

Mark, my eccentric and energetic fiancé, bumps an elbow into my side when I don’t laugh at whatever was said, and I give him a shy smile to placate him. His hand snakes under the table to hold onto my bare thigh, and his mouth comes close to my ear, murmuring, “Everything okay?”

I somehow manage to nod and murmur, “Of course.” But truth is, these people suck.

I was dragged here (well, not literally, but still) to Mark’s parents’ obnoxiously large house for a family gathering, but we’re not alone. For some reason, he brought three of his friends, all more obnoxiously loud than the last. I mean, who brings friends to an intimate family gathering?

Worse still, is that I have nothing in common with these damn people. My best guess is that they spend all their time talking about finances or sports or some other topic that flies straight over my head. Yet, Mark still expects me to laugh when he makes a joke about something I just don’t know anything about?

Yeah, that’s harder than it sounds.

A gust of wind blows into my hair, and the sun shines down on my face. I allow myself a minute to just bask in the warmth of it. It’s so nice out today that I decided to put on a white sundress. It falls to just above mid-thigh and has small diamond-shaped cutouts at the waist. It has spaghetti straps and a neckline that, frankly, makes my boobs look amazing.

Across from me, on the other side of the garden table, sit Mark’s parents, both looking about as happy with Mark’s friends’ presence as I feel. At least they’re able to offer polite smiles and nods, though.

There’s another presence at the table, too, but I’m trying my damnedest to ignore him. I can feel his eyes on me throughout the whole dinner. The way he looks at me sends heat to my core, even when I’m not looking back.

I can’t stand it, but a small part of me likes it, too.

Another round of laughter sounds out from beside me, and I swear I almost flinch at the sound. It’s so hot and uncomfortable with all these men surrounding the table, I think I’m almost going to faint.

Mark jostles me again, and this time I do flinch. He looks down at me with a frown. “Olivia? Hello?”

“Huh?” I exclaim, confused.

“Didn’t you hear me? I asked if you wanted to grab some food for us.” He smiles condescendingly at me.

“Oh, uh,” I start. I hadn’t been paying attention at all, but could he really blame me? He would, of course, but he’d be wrong. “Sure, you coming with, or?” I’m not really hungry, but I’ll take any break from this monotony.

He smiles at me like I’m a child who just said I want to be an astronaut. “No, silly. What I meant was, can you go grab some food for me and my friends?”

I’m already halfway up, but I stop, staring at him, confused. He wants me to get him and his friends food, while they just sit there, and I’m not even hungry? What the hell?

“I swear, this one barely even listens while I talk,” Mark continues, pointing at me.

I wonder why.

His friends all snicker in response, and my cheeks heat. Never mind that I have no reason to be embarrassed, I’m mostly just pissed at the audacity of this man.

I sigh. “Fine, sure, whatever.” Then I get up and start walking toward the house.

The kitchen, of course, is larger than any home I’ve lived in before, aside from where Mark and I live now. Gorgeous floor to ceiling windows surround the well-lit kitchen, which is lined all around with marble countertops and more cupboards and drawers than I can count. In the very middle of the room, a large kitchen island is covered with dozens of plates of food, which I soon make my way over to.

God knows what those idiots even eat, but meat is a good guess, so I grab a few plates and start piling them high with steak and chicken.

I feel him before I see him. The sliding door, which I had left open when I entered, closes behind him, shutting us inside the room, all alone.

“Why do you keep bothering me?” I ask, not even turning around yet. I know it’s him, it’s always him that sends shivers down my spine when he’s near me.

“Thought you might need some help is all,” he drawls, and fuck, that voice does something to me. I turn around to face him then, and finally take my fill of him.

He’s dressed head to toe in black, even though it’s boiling outside, with black skinny jeans and a black button-down shirt. The shirt clings to him like it was moulded to the muscles I’ve spent way too much time thinking about. His jeans, while not as tight as my own skinny jeans, do nothing to hide the bulge I’ve fantasized about touching. On way too many nights, after a disappointing round in bed with Mark, I’ve found myself thinking of what lies behind that zipper while my hand sinks beneath my underwear.

And his lips are so annoyingly enticing that I frown whenever I see them. I want to kiss them as much as I want to punch them, it’s not fair. They’re surrounded by a light, black stubble, which matches his gorgeous onyx hair that I desperately want to hold onto while his mouth is between my legs.

My core clenches on air whenever I see him, like my body expects to find him inside me whenever he’s near, and my knees grow weak when he looks at me like that.

I’m so fucked. I have a very big crush on my fiancé’s older brother.

Jack looks me up and down while he starts piling vegetables–apparently he has a higher opinion of Mark’s friends than I do–and I can’t help but stare at the way his hands flex as he does. Once finished, he walks up to me, and I back up against the island, his arms resting on either side of me, caging me in.

“Why do you let him boss you around like that?” Jack whispers. He’s so, so, tall, I have to crane my neck to an almost painful degree to look him in the eye.

“I don’t,” I insist. If I refused to do as Mark said, he couldn’t have forced me to. “Just let me do this, Jack. I don’t know why you keep bothering me.”

He smirks, which gives me butterflies low in my abdomen. Why does he have this effect on me? “I could ask you the same thing.” I look up at him in confusion, and his mouth dips down to my ear. “Don’t act like you didn’t wear that little dress for me, Olivia.”

The way he says my name is way too seductive, and it takes me a second to process everything else he said. “Excuse me?” I exclaim, baffled. “What the fuck? No, I wore it because Mark likes it, obviously.”

“Is that why he’s barely looked at you all day?” Jack retorts. “You know what I think?”

“Why, I’m dying to know,” I deadpan.

“I think you’re a little liar. A part of you wanted to get my attention, am I wrong?”

“Yes, you’re wrong, you big idiot,” I lie. Truth is, he’s so fucking right.

He leans impossibly closer to me, so his chest presses into mine, and my breath hitches. I gulp when he grabs my chin and holds my gaze to his. “What would Mark say to this little situation, hm? His fiancée and his older brother, about to kiss, while she grinds against his leg?”

“I’m not–“ I look down, and yep, I am indeed grinding against Jack’s leg. I stop immediately, shame burning my face. “Okay, fine, but we’re not going to–“ His lips crash into mine before I get to finish my sentence, and I claw at him, trying to get him off me. He’s devouring me, the way his hands move up to grip me tightly by the waist, the way he tilts me down so I’m almost laying flat on the kitchen island.

The way his already hard length presses against my stomach.

Before I realize it, I stop fighting him, and give in. It feels so fucking wrong, making out with Mark’s older brother, but I can’t stop. His tongue swirls with mine in the most delicious way, and he tastes so fucking good. I want more, and soon, I’m bucking my hips up and grinding against him again.

He pulls away, then, and I barely stop myself from letting out a whimper. His eyes dart to the garden, where everyone else–except his parents–are laughing at something, not looking over at us. I didn’t even think about how close we were to getting caught, which…

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” I exclaim when I come to my senses. I don’t have anything to worry about, least of all getting caught, not when he was the one who came onto me. “Do you just have a thing for kissing women who don’t want it?”

His eyes snap back to mine, and I shrivel a little at his intense stare. “Olivia, I know you probably think I’m an idiot like Mark, but I can tell you that you’re a god damn liar when you tell me you didn’t want that.” A pause. “In fact, I can bet my life that you’re soaked under that dress right now.”

My mouth gapes at him. “How dare you? No, you know what, just listen to me. Leave me the fuck alone.” I punctuate each word with a poke into his annoyingly hard chest. With that, I duck away from him and start rushing towards the door, but then I think better of it.

I’m flustered like I just had my first kiss with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen (which…yeah), I can’t go out like this. My makeup is most likely smudged, and I feel like I’m going to cry. The thought of going back out there to Mark, serving his disgusting friends a bunch of food, and having to act like everything is fine almost drives me to tears.

Jack is still standing behind me, and I can just tell he’s looking at me, waiting for me to go back out there. Without looking at him, I instead turn around and walk further into the house towards the bathroom. If nothing else, I can clean up my makeup a little and calm myself down.

And probably try to dry off my panties.

When I’m outside the bathroom, I hear footsteps behind me again.

“Jack, I swear to fucking god,” I say as I turn around, coming face to face with the man responsible for making me question everything about myself. “Go away. Now.”

He does not, in fact, go away. Instead, he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head, then brings his mouth to mine again.

I buck in response, but his kiss is cut off short, this time, like he’s greeting his girlfriend of five years after work instead of kissing his brother’s fiancée. I try wriggling out of his grip, but it’s so firm. My tiny, useless wrists are firmly pinned above my head with one of his large hands, while his other is lightly holding onto my hip, preventing me from moving.

The urge to kick him between the legs is so strong, but I resist. I couldn’t tell you why I resist, though.

I’m so screwed, I think when my knees buckle at his beautiful blue eyes.

“You didn’t let me check if I’m right,” he says.

If he’s right about…what?

He must see the confusion on my face, because he then says, “I know your panties are drenched right now, Olivia.”

Oh. That.

I go to refuse, but I stop myself. Why does this feel so right, despite how wrong it should feel? I shouldn’t let him check, but I so desperately want to see his reaction when he finds evidence of how much I want him.

He leans down, resting his forehead against mine. “I know you wanted me to kiss you, Olivia, and I know you want me to look under your tiny skirt. But I won’t do that until you ask me to.”

I scoff. “So, you’ll kiss me without asking, but looking under my skirt without consent is suddenly too far for you?”

“I think you’ll find that very little is too far for me, but I don’t want to touch you until you’re begging me to.” He gives me a devilish smirk, and I audibly swallow.

“I–“ I start. “I won’t.” But, god, do I want to.

He chuckles like he read my mind just then, and I’m not entirely convinced he didn’t, considering how his foot is currently kicking my feet apart, spreading my legs.

Air hits me between my legs, reminding of how wet I am there, even through my underwear. The shame of that, and how desperately I want him to look, heats my cheeks.

His lips come down to my neck, kissing me there with aching softness, before his tongue briefly darts out. I moan, and immediately shut my mouth in shame, but I know he heard it, because he smiles against my throat. “Ask me to touch you, Olivia.”

I must be the dumbest, or smartest, woman in the world, because my next word out is, “Please.” I want to take that little word back so bad, but it’s too late now.

He pulls away and looks me intensely in the eye. “What was that?”

Shame burns through me and my eyes glance to the floor. I focus on the patterns on the hardwood floor, counting the number of planks, then how many ridges are in each plank and–

His free hand grips my chin and forces my gaze up to his, interrupting my train of thought. “Say that again, Olivia.” The way he says my name could make me do anything, at this point.

After a pause, I whisper, “Please touch me, Jack.”

“Good girl,” he says, and that’s all the encouragement he needs, because his hand leaves my chin and dips beneath my skirt in an instant. My breath catches when his fingers graze my clit over my white, lacy panties.

He lets out a groan, muttering, “God, you’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”

“That’s discharge, you idiot,” I snap.

His lazy gaze trails up my body until he’s looking into my eyes. “I’m not that clueless, Olivia. I know when a woman is wet for me.”

I glare at him, annoyed by just how right he is.

His hand dips beneath my skirt again, and I let out another moan and start grinding on his hand.

“Olivia?”

I freeze. Jack doesn’t, he fucking continues. I start bucking again, but he’s relentless, even in the face of his brother walking around the kitchen, just around the corner.

It’s depraved, what we’re doing, but I can’t seem to stop loving it either. When a small gasp escapes me, Jack stops to pull my panties off my legs. He would be ripping them off me if it wasn’t for me helpfully stepping out of them, leaving me completely bare under my dress.

I’m about to ask what he’s doing, but I don’t get the chance to. Instead, he grips my cheeks between his fingers, forcing my lips apart, and stuffs my drenched panties into my mouth. My eyes widen in shock. I can’t believe this. Mark is, at most, fifteen steps away, just around the corner. There’s nothing but open air between us, and I’m here, panties in my mouth, while his brother is fingering me.

It's the most fucked up thing I’ve ever done, and I can’t get enough.

“Olivia, where are you?” Mark yells out again, before I hear his approaching footsteps.

I panic, trying to shove Jack off me, but he instead covers my mouth with his hand and shoves me into the bathroom besides us and locks the door.

We make it inside just in time before Mark comes up to the door, right to the spot Jack and I just were. And Jack is nothing if not consistent, because he wraps his arm around my waist, so my back is to his front, and dips his fingers inside me again. I let out a gasp around the gag in response. “Be quiet,” Jack orders gruffly into my ear, and I shiver.

The doorhandle turns, and my heart drops, but the lock prevents Mark from getting inside. Instead, he knocks on the door, asking, “Olivia? Are you in there? Are you okay?”

Jack’s fingers leave my aching centre, and they dig into my mouth to pull out my panties. I let out a small groan, both at how much I didn’t want him to stop touching me, and how much I’m relieved to be able to breathe. “Answer him,” Jack mutters right before his fingers return to my clit, rubbing it between his fingers.

“Ah–“ I exclaim. “Yeah, sorry!” I can barely even think straight with how Jack’s skilled fingers are touching me just how I need, just how Mark never could. “I’m– I wasn’t feeling well, babe.” He hates when I call him babe, but right now I just need him to leave.

“Oh, uh, right,” Mark replies from the other side of the door. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah!” I yell with way too much enthusiasm. “I just–“ The hand around my waist trails up my stomach before grabbing my breast, then rolling the aching peak between his fingers. “Fuck!” I moan, and I pray Mark doesn’t hear it as such. I try speaking again, but it comes out all chopped. “I just have an– ah, an upset stomach.” I grit my teeth when Jack dips his middle and ring fingers inside me, his palm pressing into my clit at the same time. My orgasm is rapidly approaching, even though I’m fighting it as hard as I can. “I’ll be out soon, Mark!”

He doesn’t say anything for a long time, making me worry that he can tell what’s going on just two meters away from him, but then he says, “Oh. Okay. Hey, mom was looking for Jack, have you seen him?”

God, have I ever.

“No! Sorry!” I grit my teeth when Jack grinds himself into my backside.

My orgasm crashes into me then, making me gasp and writhe in Jack’s hold. His hand on my breast flies up to my mouth, silencing my pants and cries. I grip onto his hand under my dress, pushing it deeper, hungrily fucking his hand. I can’t think straight, the bliss from the orgasm and my heart beating nervously at how close Mark is, it’s all too much. My knees buckle, and I would collapse on the floor were it not for Jack’s hand inside me, keeping me upright.

When my climax starts fading away, Jack removes his hand from my mouth and leans down to whisper in my ear, “Such a good girl, coming for me while your fiancé is so close.” He chuckles, barely audible. “Should I open the door? Let him see what a little slut his girl is?”

“No!” I yell, way too loudly.

“What?” Mark asks.

“Shit,” I mutter, racking my brain for an excuse. “Sorry, babe, I dropped the soap on the floor, that’s all.”

I didn’t drop shit, so I pray that he believes me. “Ah…well, I’m going back outside, now,” he replies.

Only when I hear his receding footsteps do I allow myself to breathe out properly.

When I turn around, I find Jack doing a poor job keeping his laughter inside. I slap his shoulder in anger, though I’d be a liar if I said I was anything but turned on for him. “What is wrong with you?” I exclaim.

He puts his hands up. “Hey, you’re the one who came on my fingers. Don’t blame me for that.”

I groan, then turn to grab the doorhandle, but Jack’s large hand gripping my wrist stops me. He spins me around so I’m facing him, and my hand flies up to his chest for stability. “We’re not done yet, babygirl,” he mutters seductively.

“What do you mean?”

In lieu of answering me, he instead grips my throat and walks me up against the wall. I gasp, my hands trying to tear at his grip, but it stays firm. His free hand grips my leg and throws it around his hips, and he lets out a groan when I stop fighting him.

“God, you’ve no idea how much it fucking kills me, knowing that he gets to take you home tonight.” He speaks like it physically hurts him. “I know you’re not happy, you think I can’t tell? Our parents may be convinced by your little act, but I’m not.” I’m panting so hard that my chest keeps brushing up against his, and it sends zings of pleasure through me. “And the fact you’re going home with that dick, who probably doesn’t even believe the clit exists, boggles my mind.” He’s right, but my pride is keeping me from telling him. “I can’t live with that, not without showing you how a real fucking man treats his woman.” The insinuation that he thinks I’m his gives me goosebumps all over, but it confuses me why I don’t correct him.

Maybe I want to be his.

When I don’t say anything in response, he lightly squeezes my throat, and mutters, “Tell me you want this, Olivia. There’s no going back after this. Tell me you want this, or I’ll go, and I’ll leave you alone for good.”

“I–“ I start, but stop myself. I’ve told him to leave me alone before, and he’s never listened, but then it’s felt like playful banter, not this.

No, this is so dangerous.

If I say I want this, if I admit what I’ve been hiding from myself for months, what happens then? I have no idea, but a small, no large, part of me desperately wants to find out.

“I want you,” I breathe, honestly.

His eyes briefly widen in surprise, but then he snaps, and his mouth finds mine. His tongue aggressively explores inside my mouth, and I moan around it, all while he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. Once done, he loops it around both my wrists, fastens it tight, and places my arms on his shoulders. He then pulls down his pants and underwear, and my eyes widen in shock at the size of him. Seeing my reaction, he gives me a seductive smirk. Before I can even blink, he pulls out a condom and wraps it around himself, then he grips my thighs and lifts me so my legs wrap around his hips.

“Better hold on, sweetheart.”

That’s all the warning I get before he impales me on all of him. I cry out at the sensation, at how full I feel. Clinging onto his shoulders is all I can do as he ravages me, thrusting deep, letting grunts and moans escape his mouth.

When he hits me just right, I let out a loud moan, and Jack pulls out my panties in response, stuffing them back into my mouth. I look at him, mouth and pussy stuffed, as he stops moving for a moment. “Kick me in the back if you need me to stop, okay?” he says with such softness.

I nod, and a moment later, his thrusts continue. It hurts in the best way, giving me overwhelming pleasure, and I kick my head back against the wall and moan.

Jack takes that as an invitation, and latches his mouth onto my neck, sucking hard. He’s practically branding me, and in my tiny dress, there’s just no way I can hide that from Mark, but I’m past caring at this point. He keeps sucking my neck and I keep moaning into my gag.

He’s everywhere around me, pinning me between his hard chest and the hard wall behind me, and I can’t get enough. “Fuck, Olivia,” he moans, like I’m his salvation, and it sends shivers down my spine, all the way down to where we’re connected.

He releases one of my legs, but I keep it around his hip, and he brings his hand to just above where he’s taking me, bringing me ever close to another climax.

I cry out at the way his fingers work in conjunction with his cock, stretching me and bringing me closer to the peak.

His fingers briefly leave me, making me whine, only to pull my dress down, pushing my breasts up over the neckline. His fingers return just as quickly as they left, and his mouth takes one of my aching nipples into his mouth.

It’s too much, it’s too fucking much, yet I want more. I need more. I push into his back with my foot, urging him to go deeper, harder, but instead, he stops. I let out an annoyed whine, but he doesn’t move. He’s sweating and panting against me, yet he stops everything, and looks at me with concern. “You okay?” he asks, and I realize what I just did, kicking into his back like he told me to do if I want to stop.

I let out a groan at myself, and rapidly nod, widening my eyes to urge him to continue. He smiles at me like he just realized exactly what happened, then continues his thrusts.

Within moments, his thrusts become more aggressive, less careful, and I’m clinging onto his shoulders for dear life while he takes me like a ragdoll. “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he grits out. “Are you close?”

I nod and hum, giving him encouragement to continue, which he does. He begins rubbing at me faster, and within moments, release finds me.

I cry out, pulling him closer and gripping him tightly. Seeing that I’m coming, he allows himself to come too, spilling into the condom between us.

Never have I been this annoyed with a piece of plastic.

He keeps going, not stopping until we’ve both come back down.

He rests his forehead against mine, breathing heavily, and whispers, “You’ve ruined me.” I try pulling back, but I’m between him and the wall, not being able to look at him properly or ask him what he means. He continues, “You’ve ruined me for every other woman, Olivia.”

The thought of him with someone else sends a pang of jealousy through me, a feeling I swiftly smother.

Finally, he pulls out, helping me stand upright on the ground. He releases me from the make-shift gag and constraints, allowing me to look up at him and say, “You too.”

He’s in the middle of tossing away the condom, but stops, turning to look at me. “What?”

“I don’t think any other man can do what you just did, Jack,” I whisper, a little shyly.

He tosses the condom away with a little more aggressiveness than was probably necessary, then says, “Damn right. I meant what I said, Olivia. There’s no going back now. You’re mine now.” Improbably, I get turned on again at his words. “Look, I realize I just fucked my brother’s fiancée against the bathroom wall, but you and I both know this isn’t over.”

“What do you mean, Jack?” I ask as I adjust my dress. I can’t find my panties anywhere, though.

“Come to my place tonight. I’ll do to you what you wish Mark would do, and then some.” He finally puts away his intimidating weapon, but then replaces it with an equally intimidating smile. “You enjoyed how I fucked you, didn’t you?”

He walks up to me, so I’m forced to crane my neck to look into his eyes. “Yes, I did,” I exhale.

He nods like he knew I was going to say that. “Then be a good girl for me and go home with Mark.” I frown in confusion, but he continues before I can say anything. “Dote on him, tell him you love him. Maybe even talk to him about what napkins you want for the wedding or whatever vain shit he’s obsessed with. Then, when he inevitably leaves to hang out with his friends, come home to me. And I’ll truly make you mine. Think you can do that?”

I stutter, baffled at his words, but before I can reply, he nods at me, satisfied, like I’ve said yes, even though I haven’t. He then leaves, shutting the door behind him, leaving me confused in the bathroom.

I spend a few more minutes looking around, getting more and more frustrated, but then I realize why I can’t find them.

Jack stole my fucking panties.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!💞