My Boyfriend Caught Me With Ben on My 25th Birthday - Part 3

Read previous part: I Cheated on My Boyfriend with Ben - Intense Secret Affair - Part 2

The secret affair with Ben didn’t just continue - it became the most exciting, addictive, and fulfilling part of my life.
For more than a year, from the time I was 23 until I turned 25, Ben and I lived in a perfect, hidden bubble. We met three or four times a week. Sometimes at his apartment, sometimes at mine when Orlang was away in Denver, and sometimes in hotel rooms when we wanted to be extra careful. The sex never got old. If anything, it got better.
Ben was everything Orlang wasn’t in bed. He was patient, skilled, and incredibly dominant. He could fuck me for forty minutes straight without cumming. He loved eating me out until I squirted. He loved tying my hands to the headboard and making me beg. He introduced me to light choking, spanking, and dirty talk that made me blush and drip at the same time.
Every time we met, I felt truly desired. Truly fucked. Truly satisfied.
Meanwhile, my long-distance relationship with Orlang slowly faded into something that felt more like a friendship than a romance. We still said “I love you.” We still planned a future together. But the spark was gone. When he visited once a month, the sex was still over in under a minute. I would fake my moans, wait for him to fall asleep, and then quietly finish myself off in the bathroom with my vibrator while thinking about Ben.
I felt guilty. Of course I did. But the guilt was no longer strong enough to stop me.
Then came my 25th birthday.
Orlang had promised months in advance that he would fly back to Austin for the whole weekend to celebrate with me. I had been looking forward to it - not because I expected great sex, but because I missed the version of us that used to exist. I wanted to feel normal again, even if just for a couple of days.
Three days before my birthday, he called me while I was at work.
“Hey babe,” he said, sounding tired. “I’m really sorry, but something came up at the office. There’s a huge deadline on Monday and they need me here. I won’t be able to make it for your birthday.”
I felt my heart drop.
“You’re joking, right?” My voice was sharper than I intended. “You promised, Orlang. I’ve been planning this for weeks.”
“I know, I know. I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I swear. We can celebrate when I come next month.”
I hung up feeling angry, hurt, and strangely… relieved.
Because I had already made other plans.
I texted Ben immediately:
Me:
Orlang cancelled. The whole weekend is ours. Come over Friday night. I want you to fuck me like it’s my birthday.
His reply came seconds later:
Ben:
I’ll be there at 8. Get ready to not sleep.
Friday night arrived.
I spent the whole day preparing. I shaved everything smooth, put on the expensive black lingerie Ben loved, did my makeup, and lit candles all over my apartment. The lights were dim, soft music was playing, and a bottle of champagne was chilling in the fridge.
At exactly 8 PM, there was a knock on the door.
When I opened it, Ben stood there looking devastatingly handsome in a black button-down shirt and dark jeans. In his hands were a huge bouquet of red roses and a beautifully wrapped gift box.
“Happy birthday, beautiful,” he said, stepping inside and kicking the door shut behind him.
He handed me the flowers and pulled me into a deep, possessive kiss before I could even say thank you. His hands immediately slid under my silk robe, finding the lace lingerie underneath.
“Fuck… you look incredible,” he growled against my lips.
He didn’t waste time. He lifted me up, carried me to the bedroom, and laid me down on the bed like I was something precious. He took his time unwrapping me - slowly sliding the robe off my shoulders, kissing every inch of skin he revealed. When he saw the black lace lingerie, he let out a low, appreciative groan.
He ate me out for almost twenty minutes, slow and teasing, bringing me right to the edge and then pulling back until I was begging and crying. When he finally let me cum, I screamed his name so loudly I was glad the neighbors weren’t home.
Then he fucked me.
He fucked me hard and deep on my back, my legs over his shoulders. He fucked me from behind while pulling my hair. He made me ride him while he slapped my ass and told me how much tighter I was than any other girl he had ever been with. He made me cum three more times before he finally filled me with a massive load, groaning my name as he emptied himself inside me.
We lay there afterward, sweaty and satisfied, his cum slowly leaking out of me onto the sheets.
Ben reached for the gift box he had brought and handed it to me.
“Open it.”
Inside was a beautiful rose-gold necklace with a small heart pendant. On the back, it was engraved: “My Secret.”
Tears filled my eyes. It was thoughtful, romantic, and dangerously permanent.
“I know we’re not supposed to be serious,” he said softly, clasping it around my neck, “but I wanted you to have something that’s only from me.”
I kissed him deeply, my heart full of emotions I knew I shouldn’t be feeling for my side piece.
We made love one more time - slower this time, more intimate. He took his time, kissing me everywhere, telling me how beautiful I was, how much he loved being inside me. When he came again, I held him close, feeling his heartbeat against mine.
We fell asleep tangled together, his cum still inside me, the necklace resting between my breasts.
The next morning - my actual birthday - I woke up to the sound of knocking on the front door.
I froze.
Ben was still asleep beside me, naked, his arm draped over my waist.
The knocking came again, louder this time.
I gently shook Ben awake. “Someone’s at the door.”
He sat up quickly, eyes wide. We both knew it couldn’t be good.
I threw on a robe and hurried to the door, my heart hammering. When I opened it, Orlang was standing there with a big bouquet of flowers, a gift bag, and a bright, hopeful smile on his face.
“Surprise, baby!” he said happily. “I lied about the work thing. I wanted to surprise you for your birthday. I caught an early flight and-”
He stopped mid-sentence.
His eyes moved past me into the apartment. The living room was still messy from last night - empty wine glasses, the bouquet of roses Ben had brought, my black lingerie lying on the floor near the couch.
Then his eyes landed on the bedroom doorway, where Ben was standing shirtless, wearing only his boxers, looking just as shocked as Orlang.
The silence that followed was the loudest thing I had ever heard.
Orlang’s face went from confusion to realization to pure heartbreak in the span of three seconds.
“Ashley…” His voice cracked. “What the fuck is this?”
I couldn’t speak. Tears were already streaming down my face.
Ben stepped forward, trying to stay calm. “Look, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t know-”
“Get out,” Orlang said, his voice shaking with anger and pain. “Get the fuck out of my girlfriend’s apartment.”
Ben looked at me. I nodded, tears falling faster. He quickly grabbed his clothes and left without another word.
Orlang stepped inside and closed the door. He looked at me like I was a stranger.
“How long?” he asked, voice breaking.
“Over a year,” I whispered, unable to lie anymore.
He laughed bitterly, tears in his own eyes. “A year? While I was working my ass off in Denver thinking we had a future together?”
“I’m so sorry,” I cried. “I never wanted to hurt you. But you stopped trying, Orlang. You stopped making me feel wanted. Ben… he made me feel alive again.”
Orlang stared at me for a long moment, then set the flowers and gift bag down on the table.
“I loved you, Ashley. I really did.”
He turned and walked out without another word.
That was the end of our six-year relationship.
I spent my 25th birthday completely alone, crying in my bed, surrounded by the evidence of my betrayal.
I felt terrible for Orlang. He didn’t deserve any of this. He had been a good boyfriend for most of our relationship. The guilt still eats at me sometimes.
But Ben is still in my life.
We’re not “official.” We’re still friends with benefits - intense, passionate, and completely addictive benefits. He comes over several times a week. We fuck for hours. He still makes me cum like no one else ever has.
I know it’s complicated. I know it’s messy.
But right now, at 25, this is where I am.
Still feeling the weight of what I did to Orlang.
Still unable to let go of the man who finally made me feel truly satisfied.
And still wondering what the future holds.