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The Blackout (MFF) SRO 18/07/17(Tue)00:20 No. 25701 ID: f7d3f6

Hey, this business of writing porn is kinda fun, especially when I actually get an idea for a story. I wish my NON-porn muse would hang out with me like this, I haven’t seen that bitch in years. I got the idea for this story from the title of a post on another sex story site, something like “I cucked myself”. I read that story and noted that it didn’t have anything to do with cuckolding. Apparently the verb “cuck” has expanded way beyond its original meaning, now including “to cause any embarrassing stumble or faux pas; to pwn”. Anyway, the title did give me the seed of an idea, and this story is the result.

So here is my first attempt at writing porn fantasy. Even though it’s told in the first person, this is totally a work of fiction and any resemblance to any persons or events, etc., etc.

The Blackout (MFF) SRO 18/07/17(Tue)00:26 No. 25703 ID: f7d3f6

Chapter 1

Okay, this weird-shit thing happened last weekend, and I’m still having a little trouble processing it. I’m going to try to write it all out here in hope that, in seeing it in black and white, I can figure out what’s going on.

My name’s Paul. I’m married to Janet, an awesome lady, 32 years old, 5’-4”, 120 lbs, blond hair and blue eyes, nice and fit and very pretty. Met her in college, she’s now a freelance artist and designer. We have a great sex life, but she likes to party a little more than I do, something we sometimes have a little tension about. We had long ago decided against having children, so I’ve had a vasectomy.

So last weekend, my brother David flew in on business and I insisted that we put him up in our guest room rather than let him spend a lot of money on a hotel. He’s my twin, and although we used to hang out often, since he was transferred to the other coast, we haven’t seen much of him. He’s dated a lot and had a few girlfriends, but has managed to stay a bachelor. We’re both 35 now.

Anyway, Saturday afternoon, we were sitting in the living room having an early drink and I noticed that Janet was paying a lot more attention to David than she usually did. Like, kind of monopolizing the conversation. I didn’t pay a lot of mind to it, they were just catching up after not seeing him for awhile. I was the one he usually emailed the random events in his life, so it was natural that my wife would want to know what was going on with him too.

About five o’clock, we were getting hungry, and started thinking about going out to dinner. Janet said she should try to get a date for David, so he wouldn’t feel like a third wheel. He protested that he’d be fine, but my wife insisted, and started texting a few of her friends. She latched on to her girlfriend Connie, who I don’t particularly care for. She tends to be a bad influence on Janet. Anyway, long story short, we met Connie at the restaurant and actually had a pretty nice meal.

We had several more drinks with dinner, and Janet and Connie were starting to get lightly toasted. David seemed to be enjoying it, so I didn’t say anything. After dinner, the girls wanted to go get more drinks, so we wandered down the street to a decent looking place called Sullivan’s, and took a table. David and I chatted while the girls proceeded to get trashed. Connie divided her attention between Janet, David and pretty much every other guy in the room. My brother started getting into the spirit of the party, matching the girls drink for drink, and I realized I might have to be the one to make sure everybody got home all right.

Yah, that prophecy came true. Somewhere around ten, it was obvious that Dave was done. He was never a heavy drinker, and this was why. Connie and Janet were just getting started, and they had actually joined another bunch of women celebrating somebody’s promotion or something. I told my wife that I was going to take my brother home and put him to bed, and then I’d be back.

“Okay, Honey, we’ll be here,” she said and gave me a sloppy kiss.

Got a taxi to the house, and as we pulled up, I noticed something was wrong. There were no lights anywhere in the neighborhood. Crap, I thought, a blackout. It sometimes happened; a car hit a transformer or something, and a dozen city blocks were without power, sometimes for the whole night. Dave was really wasted; I had to half carry him to the door, unlock in the dark and somehow get him inside.

I knew the first thing to do was get him to the bathroom. It was even darker inside the house. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket to use the screen as a flashlight, and… Shit, it was dead. I’d been needing to replace that phone for some time, because it was old and needed charging after just a few hours, and I hadn’t remembered to do it today. Fortunately, I managed to feel my way down the hall and get Dave into the bathroom.

“You gonna be okay, Buddy?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he croaked.

“Find the toilet all right?”


“Pee or puke?” I asked.

“Pee now. Maybe puke later.”

There was the sound of his zipper, then his pants hitting the floor. I didn’t hear him peeing.

“What you doing?” I asked a little anxiously.

“I’m sitting down. Can’t stand.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I was getting worried that I might need to stay with him a little longer than I had planned.

“Hey Dave,” I said, “Can I use your cell phone to text Janet? Mine’s dead.”

“Sure.” I heard him fumbling in his pants pockets on the floor, and he must have pushed a button because the room lit up a little. I reached around the door and got the phone from him.

“Thanks man,” I said.

I scrolled through his contacts but didn’t find Janet’s cell number. Well, no reason he would have it, I guess. Crap, that’s what’s wrong with cell phones, we don’t have to memorize numbers any more. Janet had had to change hers a few times. I used the light from Dave’s phone to find my way to her work room where she did her drawings and stuff, and dug in the file cabinet where I knew she kept her records, including her cell bills. Sure enough, I located the number and entered it in the text box for “Recipient”.

“How you doing?” I texted.

No answer for a long time. I imagined Janet was having a great time in a noisy room, half in the bag and probably wouldn’t even notice her text ring tone. Then, partially to my surprise, she actually answered.

“Graet! Havig fun. Missng u. Wherd u go?”

“Back to the house. My brother’s such a lightweight. Putting him to bed. Missing you too. Can’t leave for awhile. How soon are you coming back?”

“Awe, arent yu a sweety? Stay there. Gttn uber rit now.”

Cool! She should be home in half an hour or so.

“Ok, be safe. I love you.”

No answer. Okay, she was probably already on the Uber app and didn’t see it.

I went back to the bathroom to discover David’s pants, but no David. I went to the guest room where he was supposed to be staying, but he wasn’t there either. That’s when I heard a faint snore from our bedroom. Yep, he was passed out diagonally on our Queen-sized bed. I pulled his shoes off, snuck a pillow under his head and covered him with the bedspread. Fortunately, it wasn’t a cold night. I grabbed his pants from the bathroom and put them on the other side of him on the bed. The guest room bed was a double, so Janet and I could crash in there for the night.

I was already getting the start of a hangover. I got a cold bottle of water from the fridge, used the bathroom and got undressed. I was a little worried about Janet, but not very. In spite of her party-hearty attitude, she was generally pretty competent even when apparently quite drunk. And as much as she annoyed me, I had to admit that Connie always managed to focus when it was important. I was bone weary, and I needed to lie down. I pulled the covers back and got into the guest bed, pulling up just the sheet. I meant to stay awake to warn Janet when she got home that we were switching rooms with Dave, but time dragged on, and I felt sleep tugging on my consciousness.

I was awakened by the sensation of coolness on my naked body as the sheet was lifted off me. Ah, I thought, Janet’s home at last. It was still pitch black. I started to reach for Dave’s phone to check the time, but my hand touched my wife’s bare flesh as she got in bed next to me.

“Shhhh…” she whispered.

“Okay,” I whispered back. “You okay with this?”, meaning sleeping in the guest bed.

“Oh yes! I’ve been wanting to do this with you like, forever!”

Huh. Didn’t know she had such a thing for this bed. It was our old one from our first apartment, well broken in. Maybe a touch of nostalgia.

“And, just so you know,” she whispered, with a little giggle in her breath, “I love you too!”

Ah, so she had gotten my last text. Good.

I felt her hand on my cheek, and I turned toward her. Her lips pressed firmly against mine, and I reached over to pull her naked form closer. She was being unusually passionate, running her hands over my back and sides, tonguing my mouth with extra vigor. Suddenly, I realized that besides her two hands, another one was roaming my chest and belly. No, make that TWO more hands. I froze a second, and then realized that I was receiving moist kisses all over my back and shoulders. Kisses that could not be coming from Janet.

“What the…” I blurted, and started to turn over.

“SSSHHHH…” two voices hissed from either side of me.

“Connie?” I guessed.

“Hee hee, surprise!” my wife whispered.

“Surprise!” Connie echoed.

In all our years together, we had never discussed the possibility of adding another person to our lovemaking. To be honest, I hadn’t even contemplated it. I had always been very satisfied with Janet, and if it had occurred to us to contemplate it, I would have dismissed it out of hand as a serious threat to our marriage. Yet, here we were, apparently about to embark on a ménage a three.

“Holy shit!” I exhaled as softly as I could, “Janet, are you sure about this?” I wasn’t sure that I was.

Instead of answering, she placed a forefinger on my lips to silence me, and then replaced it with her mouth. I felt my penis being fondled, but Janet’s hands were still on my arms. In spite of my lingering dismay, I got very hard very quickly. As they say, a hard dick has no conscience. Somewhere in the background of my perception, a still small voice was telling me to kick Connie out of our bed and preserve our marriage. Then it was stifled by a big, hairy paw of horniness.

Things progressed rapidly after that. In the pitch blackness, it became difficult to tell whose leg was this, or whose pussy that, or who was sucking me and who was kissing me. Both women were roughly similar in body type and weight, and had similar hair. Connie hadn’t taken her earrings off, and I sometimes caught a faint whiff of Janet’s favorite perfume. Otherwise, everything was just a confused mess of writhing flesh and oozing orifices.

I know at one point I was lying on my back with one woman’s meaty thighs straddling my head, my hands gripping her firm buttocks and my face buried in her wet snatch, while at the other end, my dick was being expertly sucked and my testicles gently fondled. Then I was kneeling behind one of those luscious butts, balls deep in her hot sleeve, feeling her inner muscles working me like a fist while I slammed her like a jackhammer. Underneath her, I sensed the other woman in a sixty-nine position, switching her eager mouth back and forth between my anonymous fuck partner’s fleshy parts and my balls.

How long we grunted and groaned and sweated on that bed that night, I do not know. Eventually, the orgasmic cries turned to contented sighs and then gentle, even breathing. I received two long, tender, grateful kisses and a parting tweak of my now limp cock from each of them, and after each of us in turn stumbled to the bathroom and back, I fell asleep, wrapped in the coils of these two drained and thoroughly exhausted succubi.

The Blackout (MFF) SRO 18/07/17(Tue)00:28 No. 25704 ID: f7d3f6

Chapter 2

I woke as the sun was beaming fully in the guest room window. Janet and Connie were both sound asleep on either side of me. As carefully as I could, I extricated myself without waking them and got to the bathroom. As I was heading back to the guest room for my clothes, I noticed a familiar smell. Coffee! I got dressed silently and headed for the kitchen.

Dave was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup.

“Yay, the power’s back on!” I croaked.

“Hey, look who’s finally alive!” he greeted.

“Glad to see you made it too,” I said. “You were HAMMERED last night!”

I poured myself a cup and started to down it immediately.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’m such a lightweight. I take it Janet made it home all right?”

“Yeah, she and Connie both. They’re still asleep in the guest room.”

“Both?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, they were trashed. I couldn’t have moved either of them with a forklift.”

“I hear ya. Been there. Sorry I took up your bed. I have no idea how I got there.”

“No worries, dude,” I reassured him, “we managed.”

Boy, did we manage, I thought.

We chatted a little more, and then we heard the sound of water splashing in the bathroom and eventually the girls arrived, each wearing one of Janet’s robes. I tensed a little, remembering the night’s shocking paradigm shift in our relationship, and I wondered if we would all be able to keep our act together. But the girls handled it like pros, not batting an eye. Janet came over and gave me a perfunctory good-morning peck. Connie hung back a little, smiling sheepishly with her arms folded and making a tiny wrist-wave of greeting to us.

“Holy shit,” I kidded them, “Close your eyes before you bleed to death!”

“Up yours,” Janet smiled, “You should see what you look like.”

“I don’t doubt it.” I rubbed my bleary eyes and pressed my aching temples.

The girls poured themselves coffee and joined us at the table. Janet sat next to me, across from David. I couldn’t help noticing that her robe belt wasn’t fastened very well, and it was hanging almost open, giving Dave a very deep cleavage shot. I put it down to her inability to focus due to extreme hangover. We all chatted nonchalantly, about the bar we’d been to, the hysterically funny Uber driver that got lost three times, and our nebulous plans for the day.

Meanwhile, I casually put my arm around my wife’s shoulder and tried to discreetly tug her robe closed for her. She either didn’t notice or ignored my maneuvers. Instead, she and Connie both seemed to be intently focused on Dave, speaking mostly to him and, if I wasn’t mistaken, giving him occasional meaningful glances. Now what, I wondered?

I got up to make another pot of coffee; it was definitely going to be a two-pot morning. As I worked, I couldn’t help noticing out of the corner of my eye and reflected in a couple of the stainless steel appliances, that some kind of wordless exchange was going on between the girls and my brother. His body language indicated puzzlement at first, raising his hands in a “What? What???” gesture, and then shrugging and nodding agreement to whatever unnamed conspiracy they were cooking up. The girls put their fingers to their lips, indicating secrecy, and Dave nodded and made a zip-the-lip movement. He still looked a little behind the curve, whatever it was.

I surmised that they had some kind of surprise in store for me. Shit, I didn’t think I could take any more surprises this weekend. Or maybe this decade. Anyway, if it involved my brother, at least it wouldn’t have anything to do with sex, thank God.

The Blackout (MFF) SRO 18/07/17(Tue)00:29 No. 25705 ID: f7d3f6

Author here:

So I’m thinking of just ending it like this, with a kind of Saki-style “OSHIT”, and let the reader imagine how it might have gone from there. However, it would be fun to explore a possibility or two myself. One problem is, I’m not sure which direction to take it. IRL, it wouldn’t take long for the girls to realize that David had not a clue what went on the night before, and they had actually slept with Paul. This has possibilities in itself, such as a “Piña Colada song” type realization by Janet about her husband, along with the potential for future variations beyond monogamy, now that the ice has been broken. This might include Connie again, and even David for real this time.

Another possibility, since this is strictly fantasy, is to let the girls continue to believe they slept with David, who leaves for the airport still mystified by their dewy-eyed expressions and heartfelt sighs as they wave good-bye, while Paul catches on but decides to play it cool, holding the cards close to his vest for the time being. Not sure how to make that work into the story, however.

Then there’s the case where Janet realizes the truth but Paul doesn’t. She and Paul bond like never before, while Connie pines for David and eventually hooks up with him “again” and they live happily ever after. Or something. I dunno.

Actually, if nobody catches on at all, it could still work to a degree. Even though David remains mystified about the night’s events, after extensive discussion out of Paul’s presence, he and the girls assume he was having an alcohol blackout (hey, double meaning for the title!) and was a tiger in bed even though he had no memory of it in the morning. This has hilarity-ensues possibilities, including the girls trying to repeat the performance by getting him smashed but he just passes out, leaving them frustrated and disappointed. It still leaves the option for later revelations that lead to multiple forks in the timeline. I’m warming up to this one.

Anonymous 18/07/20(Fri)13:43 No. 25711 ID: bc6b7f

If you're gonna write cuckshit at least have the good manners to label it as such.

SRO 18/07/20(Fri)15:08 No. 25712 ID: f7d3f6

So sorry, I'm new at this. I think I did mention it in the intro. Hard to anticipate everything that might trigger someone's sensitivities.

Anonymous 18/07/20(Fri)17:13 No. 25713 ID: bc6b7f

Tagging a story based in its fucking content is basic fucking courtesy.

SRO 18/07/20(Fri)17:33 No. 25714 ID: f7d3f6


Yes, I can see that manners are important here. Actually, since yours has been the only comment on my piece, I guess I had better stick with my day job.

odiscipline!!xlAmp4BJLj 18/08/11(Sat)13:47 No. 25740 ID: 3093c9

I find myself conflicted. Tagging is a nice courtesy, both to the reader and to yourself - it tells your audience up front what kind of story you have in mind, and makes it more noticeable to that kind of audience.

On the other hand:

Screw him. I checked the faqs and rules, tagging is not required here. If anyone gets offended by anything they read on here, it is their fault for continuing to read it. Outside of flatly illegal communications, no one is required to not write things that may offend other people.

I feel like a simple "tagging is good, more of the right people will read your work" would suffice in situations like this.

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