Mercy Fuck After Her Date

Sullivan sat on the edge of the couch with the apartment lamp turned low and his phone face-down, so he would stop checking it. Twenty-eight years old, and he still waited like this whenever Delphine went out. His wife was twenty-six, a confident businesswoman who never pretended her lover was a secret. Marco was thirty-one. Dinner, she had texted, and then whatever Marco wanted. She always came home late when it was him. She always came home glowing. Sullivan's small cock had been half-hard for hours. He had not touched it. She liked him aching when she walked through the door.

The lock turned just after midnight.

Delphine stepped in, and the room changed. Even in a wrinkled silk dress and smudged lipstick, she shut the door with her hip and looked at her husband as if the night had already gone the way she liked. Her hair was half down. A faint shine marked the inside of one thigh. She smelled like Marco's cologne, warm skin, and sex.

"You're still up," she said.

He stood too fast. "I couldn't sleep. How was the date?"

She set her purse on the chair and didn't bother fixing her lipstick. The satisfied glow on her face was unmistakable, and so was the loose, heavy way she moved. "Thorough. He fucked me on his couch, then bent me over the kitchen counter, then took me to bed and didn't stop until I was shaking. I'm full of him, Sullivan. Thoroughly fucked. I can feel his cum every time I take a step."

Heat slammed through him so hard he gripped the cushion. Humiliation and want hit together, braided until he couldn't pull them apart. His small cock pressed uselessly against his zipper, already leaking.

"Please," he said. "Delphine, please. I need a mercy fuck. I know you don't need it. I know he already filled you. I'm begging. Just let me have you like this."

She watched him with bright, amused eyes, enjoying the flush and the tremor and the way he couldn't look away from her thighs. "A mercy fuck. You want to put that little thing in me while I'm still dripping with Marco's cum."

"Yes. Anything. Please."

Her laugh was soft and mean and fond. "God, you're desperate. I love that. All right. Because you begged so nicely, I'll give you one. Come on. Mercy fuck. Don't thank me yet. I already got everything I needed tonight."

Delphine didn't rush toward the bedroom. She liked the waiting almost as much as the begging. In the living room she turned her back.

"Unzip me."

His fingers shook on the zipper. The silk parted, and she let the dress fall, stepping out of it in her heels, a black bra, and panties gone translucent at the crotch.

"Look," she said. She hooked a thumb in the waistband and dragged the panties down her thighs. They clung, then peeled away. Her pussy was swollen and flushed, lips parted and glossy. Cum smeared her inner thighs in slow, shining streaks. "He stretched me. You can see it. Marco's cock is thick. He had to work the head in, and once he was seated he didn't stay gentle. He fucked me open. I came on him so hard I left nail marks on his shoulders. I'm still open from him. Still full."

Sullivan made a broken sound. His cock jumped in his pants.

She unhooked her bra, let her breasts fall free, and toed off her heels. Naked, marked only by the evidence of another man, she took his wrist and pulled him down the hall to the bedroom.

She sat on the edge of the mattress, spread her knees, and nodded at his clothes.

"Off. I want to see that little cock before I let it anywhere near me."

He stripped fast, clumsy, pants and shirt and briefs in a heap. His cock stood out from his body, short and slim, flushed dark at the tip, already leaking.

Delphine's mouth curved. "There it is. Come here."

He stepped between her knees. She wrapped her fingers around him. Her hand covered most of his length.

"Pathetic," she said, almost fond. "Marco's cock fills my fist and then some. Yours disappears in my palm. I barely have to move my wrist." She stroked him again, thumb smearing the wetness at his tip, watching his face crumple. "You get this hard from hearing how another man used me. From seeing his cum on my pussy. Look at you tremble."

He was trembling. "Please. Let me in. I'll be good. I'll take whatever you give me."

"I know you will." She lay back and drew him with her, guiding his small cock down between her slick, cum-filled folds. The head slipped through mess at once, her arousal and Marco's load, hot and obscene, coating him. She held him there, not letting him push in yet, rubbing him along her slit so he could feel how wet and used she was. "Feel that? That's not all me. That's him. You're getting sloppy seconds before you're even inside."

Sullivan whimpered. His hips tried to thrust. She kept her grip firm at the base, controlling him, mocking the size of what she held.

"So small," she murmured. "I can pinch you between two fingers and still have room. You think I agreed because I want to feel you?" She laughed when he shook his head, helpless. "No. I agreed because you begged, and because pity looks good on me. All right, husband. Mercy. Push it in. Slowly. Let's see how little of you I notice."

She loosened her fingers. Shaking, he lined himself up and pressed forward into heat that wasn't only hers.

He sank into her, and the sensation nearly undid him at once. She was soaked, loose in a way she never was for him alone, hot and slick with another man's cum. His small cock slid in with almost no resistance. There was no tight clutch, no struggle to fit. He bottomed out and still felt as if he had only reached the place where Marco had started.

Delphine wrapped her legs around his waist, ankles crossing at the small of his back, and pulled him flush. She looked up at him with bright amusement, one hand resting on his shoulder.

"There," she said. "Mercy fuck. Missionary, nice and close, so you can see my face while you fail."

He drew back and pushed in. The sound was wet and obscene, a soft squelch of mixed fluids. Cum and her slickness smeared his shaft, his balls, the sheet under her ass. He groaned.

"Listen to that," Delphine said. "That's Marco leaking out around you. I'm already full of his cum, Sullivan. You can hear it. You can feel it. All that thick mess he left in me, and you're just stirring it. Every thrust pushes his load around. You're fucking through another man's cum, and it isn't even yours yet."

"Yes," he gasped. "I can feel it. It's so wet. You're so—"

"Full," she finished, cruel and calm. "Full of him. Not of you. Keep going. I want to watch how long you last when you know that."

He tried to set a rhythm. His hips snapped faster than he meant, needy and shallow, because there wasn't much of him to give her. The heat, the slippery give, the knowledge that Marco's cum was coating his cock, it all stacked until his control frayed. He buried his face against her neck. She turned her mouth to his ear.

"I can't feel you," she said, sweet as poison. "I need you to hear that while you're inside me. Your small cock is in me, and I cannot feel it. There's too much of Marco's cum, too much stretch left over from his cock. You're sliding around in the mess he made, and my body doesn't register you. If I closed my eyes, I might think you hadn't put it in yet. That's how little you are. That's how used I already am."

A wounded sound tore out of him. His thrusts stuttered, then sped up, frantic.

"There it is," she said, and laughed. "Already thrusting too fast. Look at you. Hips pumping like you're racing a clock you already lost. You always do this. You get inside me, inside a pussy that's been opened for a better cock, and you lose it. You're going to come too soon. I can feel that little thing twitching already. Not stretching me. Just jumping. Desperate and small and finished before it starts."

"I'm trying," he panted against her throat. "I'm trying to last. You feel so good I can't hold it. Delphine, please, I want to make you—"

"Make me cum?" Her laugh was brighter and meaner. She tightened her legs around him, not to pull him deeper in any way that mattered, just to hold him while she mocked him. "You don't make me cum. You never make me cum. Not with this. Marco made me cum three times tonight, with his mouth and then with his cock, and you are not going to add anything to that. You don't have the size. You don't have the stamina. You have a small cock and a hair trigger and a wife who already got off without you. I agreed to this mercy fuck because your desperation is entertaining. Not because you can please me."

He was shaking all over, sweat on his spine, balls drawn tight. Every word landed in the same place as the wet heat around him, except she wasn't gripping him. She was open, slick, indifferent, and the indifference made him harder. Shame-laced lust had him thrusting helplessly, too fast, too shallow, chasing an orgasm he was ashamed to chase.

"I'm going to," he choked.

"Come, then. Come too soon, like you always do. Add your little load to his. It won't make a difference. I won't feel that either. Go on. Spill it. Be done."

He broke. His hips slammed forward and stuttered, and he came with a raw, helpless groan, pulsing inside her in quick, weak spurts. It was over almost as soon as it began. His small cock jerked and emptied, and Delphine lay under him laughing, soft and delighted, while he spent himself into the mess Marco had already left.

"That's it," she said, voice warm with mockery. "Seconds. Maybe less. You came too soon, and you didn't make me cum, and I barely felt that small cock the whole time. What a mercy fuck. What a useless little orgasm. Marco filled me. You just dribbled into the puddle he made."

Sullivan shuddered through the last weak pulses, face burning, still buried in her. The humiliation was so sharp it felt like another climax he hadn't earned.

Delphine unwrapped her legs. Before he could pull out on his own, she planted a palm on his chest and shoved him back. His spent cock slipped free with a wet sound. Cum, his and Marco's, immediately began to seep from her flushed, open pussy onto the sheet, thick and shining between her thighs.

"Down," she said. She put her hand on the back of his head and pushed him down between her thighs.

His mouth met heat and salt and the thick evidence of what had just happened. Delphine gripped his hair and forced his mouth onto her cum-filled pussy.

"Eat," she ordered. "You came in me. Now clean it. Yours and his. Open your mouth and swallow what that little cock couldn't earn."

Sullivan obeyed. He licked a broad stripe up her slit and tasted the mixture at once, his own spend tangled with Marco's thicker load and the sweet salt of her. He swallowed, then licked again, sealing his lips over her and sucking the mess down his throat. Her grip stayed tight in his hair.

"Your cock is useless," she said, rolling her hips against his face. "Too small. I don't feel it. You come too soon, and you don't make me cum. But this you can do. Lick. Swallow. Get every drop of him and you. Don't leave any."

He worked his tongue deeper, obedient, swallowing every pulse she fed him. His spent cock twitched against the sheet. She sighed, long and satisfied, and ground against his mouth until a tremor moved through her thighs.

"There," she breathed. "This is the only way you are ever allowed to make me cum. Not with that little cock. With your mouth, cleaning up after a man who actually fucked me."

Her fingers stayed in his hair. He kept his mouth where she had put it.