Morgan's Point of View
I sink deeper into the plush couch cushions, watching Adam's face in the soft glow of the television. His expression is so earnest, so completely absorbed in the ridiculous reality show I suggested we watch tonight. The contestants on Love Is Blind are fumbling through their latest crisis, trying to build relationships without ever seeing each other, and Adam is completely captivated.
It's adorable how invested he gets in these people's drama, his brow furrowing when someone makes a poor decision, his eyes lighting up during the rare genuine moments. I'm far more interested in studying the planes of his face than whatever nonsense is happening on screen.
"Do you think we would have fallen for each other if we never saw each other first?" he asks suddenly, turning those warm brown eyes toward me.
My heart skips a beat as memories flood back, thousands of late-night Discord messages sent from my RedheadloverX account, carefully crafting the perfect responses to draw him in deeper, to become his confidant, his best friend.
This sweet, beautiful buffoon has absolutely no idea that I fell in love with him long before I ever laid eyes on him in person. That I orchestrated our chance meetings with surgical precision after months of studying him like the most fascinating specimen in existence.
I smile softly, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "Of course I do, baby," I say, keeping my voice light and affectionate. No point in elaborating. He doesn't need to know.
Adam smiles, satisfied with my simple answer, and turns back to the show. I curl against his side, breathing in his scent as he absently plays with my hair. His trust is so complete, so pure. It would be heartbreaking if it weren't so perfect.
"I think that's what makes this show so interesting," he continues, oblivious to my momentary tension. "The idea that real connection can happen without physical attraction first."
I hum in agreement, watching his profile in the flickering light. If only he knew how I'd memorized every detail about him before we ever met, his favorite foods, his insecurities about Lana's career, his secret fantasy of watching her with other men that he was too ashamed to admit to her face. All those precious confessions he shared with his "buddy" online, thinking he was talking to some random guy who understood him.
Wait… Adam thinks he confessed all that to me at the hotel, though. But He never brings it up. Why is that?
I run my fingers along his jawline, drawing his attention away from the television. "Adam," I say softly, "can I ask you something personal?"
His eyes meet mine, warm and trusting. "Of course. You can ask me anything."
I hesitate, playing the role of uncertain girlfriend perfectly. "Do you still harbor any cuck fantasies? You know, like what you told me about that one time?"
The effect is immediate and delicious. Adam's entire face flushes crimson, his eyes widening with panic as he physically recoils from my question. His mouth opens and closes several times before any words come out.
"Oh, uh, no," he stammers, looking everywhere but at my face. "Of course not. I've moved on from that."
The lie is so transparent I almost laugh. Instead, I keep my expression carefully neutral, watching him squirm under my gaze.
"Really?" I press, trailing my fingers down his neck to rest on his rapidly beating heart. "Because it seemed pretty important to you when you talked about it before. You were quite... detailed."
Adam swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. "That was just... the alcohol talking. It was a stupid fantasy, and I'm over it now." He attempts a casual shrug that looks more like a nervous twitch. "I have you now. Why would I need fantasies about other people?"
I lean closer, my breath warm against his ear. "Because fantasies are part of who we are, Adam. They don't just disappear because we fall in love." I nip gently at his earlobe, feeling him shudder beneath my touch. "Besides, I want to know everything about you. Every dark desire, every secret thought."
His breathing quickens, his discomfort palpable in the tense set of his shoulders. "Morgan, please," he whispers, "it's embarrassing. Can we just drop it?"
I brush my lips against his heated skin, moving from his ear to his neck. "I'll tell you a secret, Adam," I whisper, letting my voice take on that sultry tone that always makes him melt. "As a former pornstar, I've taken a lot of dicks, you know. Hundreds." I laugh softly, trailing my fingertips down his chest. "So many, I don't even remember their names."
My hand drifts lower, coming to rest over his crotch. The hard bulge beneath my palm makes my lips curve into a wide smile. Despite his embarrassment, his body betrays his arousal.
"Well, well," I purr, giving him a gentle squeeze. "Seems like someone's excited by this conversation after all."
Adam's breath hitches, his eyes darkening with desire even as his cheeks burn with shame. The contradiction is delicious.
"I have an idea," I say, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Maybe I could jerk you off later while we watch some of my old videos? Would you like that? Watching me be ravaged by other men while I make you cum?"
His cock twitches beneath my palm, answering before his words can.
"I, I don't know." he stammers, but his eyes tell a different story, pupils dilated with undeniable interest.
"It's okay to want it," I soothe, keeping my position beside him on the couch as I begin to stroke him through his pants. "There's nothing wrong with your fantasies, Adam. Nothing at all."
I maintain eye contact as I unbutton his jeans, sliding the zipper down with deliberate slowness. The television drones on in the background, forgotten as I pull his cock free, wrapping my fingers around his impressive length.
"I could tell you stories while I stroke you," I offer, my thumb circling the sensitive head, spreading the precum that's already gathered there. "About the biggest cocks I've taken, the roughest scenes I've filmed."
Adam's head falls back against the couch, a groan escaping his lips as I begin a slow, steady rhythm. His eyes flutter closed, then open again, guilt and desire warring in his expression.
"It's just us here," I remind him, increasing my pace slightly. "No one has to know what gets you off except me. And I'm not judging you, baby. I'm embracing it."
Adam bucks his hips upward suddenly, pushing his cock deeper into my grip. I can't help but smile at his response. So predictable yet so perfect.
"You like that idea, don't you?" I whisper, leaning closer until my lips brush against his ear. "Let me tell you about the first time I took a black cock on set. God, he was massive, easily twice, hell maybe three times as thick as you."
Adam squeezes his eyes shut as his hips thrust involuntarily again. I tighten my grip, working him with practiced precision.
"His name was Darius. The director kept saying he wasn't sure I could handle him, but I was determined to prove everyone wrong." I slow my strokes, teasing him with a lighter touch. "When he first pushed inside me, I thought I might split in two. I was so full I could barely breathe."
"Morgan," Adam gasps, his voice strained.
"The cameras were rolling, but I forgot they were even there. All I could focus on was his cock stretching me wider than I'd ever been stretched before." I twist my wrist on the upstroke, making Adam moan. "He fucked me for nearly an hour. My legs were shaking so badly by the end that I couldn't stand."
Adam's cock pulses in my hand, a fresh bead of precum forming at the tip. I smear it with my thumb, using it to lubricate my movements.
"Look at you," I tease gently, "getting so hard while I tell you about another man fucking me. Such a good little cuck."
His face flushes deeper, embarrassment warring with arousal.
"It's okay, Adam," I reassure him, my voice softening as I press a kiss to his heated cheek. "I love that this turns you on. It means you understand that my past made me who I am, the woman who loves you completely."
His eyes open, finding mine with surprising intensity.
"You're not disgusted?" he whispers.
"I could never be disgusted with you," I laugh softly.
He moans as I work him faster.
"I could tell you so many stories," I continue, my voice dropping lower. "Like how I once took three men at once, one in my pussy, one in my ass, one in my mouth. They used me like a fucktoy, passing me between them until I couldn't remember my own name."
Adam's hips begin to move more urgently, fucking my hand with increasing desperation.
"Look at you," I whisper, my lips brushing against his ear as I increase my pace. "My sweet little cuckold, so hard for me while I tell you about all the men who've had me. You wish you could have watched, don't you? Sitting in the corner while they locked me up?"
Adam whimpers, his hips bucking wildly into my hand. I can feel him getting closer, his cock throbbing against my palm.
"You'd love that, wouldn't you? Watching me take cock after cock while you sit there, desperate and aching." I twist my wrist on the upstroke, making him gasp. "But you know what, Adam? I have another secret for you."
I slow my movements deliberately, squeezing the base of his cock to delay his orgasm. His eyes fly open, desperate and pleading.
"All those men, all those cocks... none of them matter anymore." I lean in closer, my voice dropping to a fierce whisper. "Because I'm yours now. Only yours. I would never fuck another man again, no matter what. Not for all the money in the world."
His eyes widen with surprise as he groans.
"That's right, baby. I've had my fill. Hundreds of cocks, thousands of orgasms, and not one of them made me feel the way you do." I resume my strokes, faster now, more purposeful. "You're the only man I want inside me for the rest of my life."
"Oh god, Morgan," he moans, his body tensing beneath my touch.
"Cum for me," I command, my voice thick with possession. "Cum for me while thinking about all the men who've had me, knowing you're the only one who ever truly gets to keep me."
His entire body goes rigid, his cock pulsing violently in my hand as thick ropes of cum erupt, spattering across his stomach and my fingers. I work him through it, milking every last drop as he trembles and gasps my name like a prayer.
"That's it, baby," I coo, gentling my touch as his orgasm subsides. "You're so perfect. So beautiful when you cum for me."
Adam's eyes are glazed, his breathing uneven as he slumps back against the couch. I bring my cum-covered fingers to my lips and slowly lick them clean, maintaining eye contact the entire time. His spent cock twitches at the sight.
"Was that okay?" I ask, my voice deliberately soft and vulnerable now. "I didn't push too far?"
Adam's gaze drops to the floor, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of crimson. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt, using it to wipe away the evidence of his pleasure while avoiding my eyes.
"I, um..." he stammers, swallowing hard before finally looking up at me. "Thanks for being so understanding about... you know. My weird thing."
I can't suppress the wicked smile that spreads across my face as I watch him squirm. Every confession, every vulnerability he shares binds him more tightly to me. His shame becomes another thread in the intricate web I've woven around him, and I can practically see him sinking deeper into my carefully constructed reality.
"It's not weird at all," I purr, trailing my fingertip along his jawline. "I think it's beautiful that you can be so honest with me."
His eyes shine with gratitude and something deeper, more primal. The relief of acceptance, of being seen in his darkest places and still wanted. It's intoxicating to him, I can see it in the way his body relaxes, in the softening of his expression.
"God, Morgan," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "I really love you. So much it kind of scares me."
My heart thunders against my ribcage, a physical reaction so powerful it momentarily takes my breath away. No matter how many times he says those words, they still affect me like a drug, sending waves of euphoric possession through my veins.
I surge forward, capturing his lips in a kiss so deep and consuming that he gasps against my mouth. My fingers tangle in his hair, holding him in place as I pour every ounce of my obsession into the connection between us.
"I love you so much, Adam," I whisper when we finally part, my forehead pressed against his. "More than you could possibly understand."
He smiles, that sweet, trusting smile that i adore more than anything.
Just as I'm leaning in to kiss him again, my phone vibrates against the coffee table with a distinctive chime, not my usual text tone. My entire body goes rigid, instantly alert.
"What's wrong?" Adam asks, his eyes searching my face with concern.
I force a calm smile as I reach for my phone, keeping my movements casual even as adrenaline floods my system. The security app's notification glows on my screen: Motion detected - Upper driveway.
Fuck.
"Nothing baby."