I Cheated on My Boyfriend with Ben - Intense Secret Affair - Part 2

Read previous part: My Boyfriend Lasted 30 Seconds - How I Started Cheating - Part 1

Three months had passed since that first night at Ben’s apartment.
What started as a one-time escape had turned into a full-blown secret affair. I was now 23, still officially in a long-distance relationship with Orlang, who was working hard in Denver. He called me every evening, told me he missed me, and promised that once he got a promotion he would move back to Austin so we could finally live together again.
I smiled, said “I love you,” and felt sick with guilt every single time.
Because the truth was - I was happier than I had been in years, and it had nothing to do with Orlang.
It had everything to do with Ben.
Ben was 26, confident, funny, and sexually insatiable in a way Orlang had never been. His cock was noticeably thicker and longer, and he knew exactly how to use it. He could last 30–40 minutes without breaking rhythm. He loved foreplay. He loved making me cum multiple times before he even thought about himself. He was dominant without being cruel - he would pin my wrists, talk dirty, choke me lightly, and make me beg for his cock.
I had become addicted.
We met 3–4 times a week. Sometimes at his apartment. Sometimes in his car in a secluded parking lot. Once, daringly, in a hotel room I booked during my lunch break.
One Tuesday afternoon stands out in my memory as the day I realized how far gone I was.
Orlang had called me that morning saying he was swamped with work and probably wouldn’t be able to video call that night. I told him I understood and that I would just go to bed early.
Instead, I texted Ben:
Me:
I’m free this afternoon. Can you come over? My place. Parents are at work until 7.
His reply came in seconds:
Ben:
On my way. Leave the door unlocked.
Twenty minutes later, Ben walked through my front door. The moment it closed behind him, he pushed me against the wall and kissed me like he had been starving for me. His hands were everywhere - squeezing my ass, grabbing my breasts, sliding under my skirt.
I was already soaked.
He didn’t waste time with words. He lifted me up, carried me to the kitchen island, and set me on the cold marble. He yanked my panties down and buried his face between my legs. His tongue was relentless - long, firm strokes on my clit, then pushing inside me. I grabbed his hair and moaned loudly, not caring if the neighbors could hear.
“Fuck, Ben… yes… eat my pussy just like that…”
He made me cum twice with his mouth before he even took his cock out. When he finally stood up and pulled his thick, veiny cock from his pants, I was trembling with need.
He didn’t ask. He just grabbed my hips and slammed into me in one hard thrust. I cried out as he stretched me perfectly. He fucked me right there on the kitchen island - hard, deep, and fast. The sound of his hips slapping against my ass echoed through the empty house.
“You’re such a dirty little cheater,” he growled, pounding into me. “Getting fucked by another man in the same house you share with your boyfriend.”
His dirty talk sent me over the edge again. I came hard around his cock, my pussy squeezing him tightly.
He pulled out, flipped me over so I was bent over the island, and slammed back inside me from behind. He fucked me even harder, one hand reaching around to rub my clit while the other gripped my hair.
“Tell me who fucks you better,” he demanded.
“You do!” I moaned. “Ben fucks me so much better than Orlang… I cum so hard with you…”
He groaned and fucked me even faster. When he finally came, he buried himself deep and filled me with pulse after pulse of hot cum. I came again at the same time, my legs shaking so badly I would have fallen if he wasn’t holding me up.
We didn’t stop there.
He carried me to my bedroom - the same bed I sometimes shared with Orlang when he visited. Ben laid me down and fucked me again, this time slower and deeper, looking into my eyes the entire time. He made me cum three more times before he finally pulled out and came across my breasts and stomach.
By the time he left, it was almost 6 PM. I was a mess - covered in sweat and cum, my pussy sore and leaking, my legs weak.
I quickly showered, changed the sheets, and sprayed air freshener everywhere. When Orlang called that night, I told him I had fallen asleep early because I was tired from work.
He believed me.
The guilt was crushing… but the sexual satisfaction was stronger.
Ben and I fell into a comfortable friends-with-benefits routine that felt dangerously like a real relationship. He was attentive, funny, and sexually perfect. He could fuck me for 40 minutes straight without cumming. He loved eating me out. He loved making me squirt. He introduced me to light choking, spanking, and even tying my hands to the headboard.
Every time we met, I discovered new levels of pleasure I never knew existed.
Meanwhile, my relationship with Orlang continued to fade.
Our video calls became shorter. Our dirty talk became nonexistent. When he visited once a month, the sex was still over in under a minute. I would fake my orgasms and then finish myself off with my vibrator after he fell asleep.
I knew I was cheating. I knew it was wrong.
But I couldn’t stop.
Ben had awakened something in me that Orlang never could.
And I was terrified of what would happen when - not if - the truth finally came out.