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Chapter 8 - The Husband I Waited For (Commission Story)
🕑 Added 2025-07-21 18:29:00 +0000 UTCThis fictional story features only adult characters (18+) and portrays consensual interactions throughout.
Chapter 8: The Bike Ride
After an hour of tanning and teasing, Corey leaned over and flicked my thigh.
“Bike ride?”
I blinked up at him from behind my sunglasses. “Seriously?”
He grinned. “Seriously. I saw this cute little trail that loops around the property. Lots of trees. Ocean views. Bumpy gravel.”
My stomach dropped a little. “Bumpy?”
Corey’s eyes twinkled. “Yeah, baby. Real bumpy.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re evil.”
He just stretched, all abs and tan skin, and said, “I’m motivational.”
I sighed and stood. “Fine. But if this plug pops out halfway through, you’re turning this into a very different kind of ride.”
Corey laughed and kissed the top of my head. “That’s the spirit.”
He led the way toward the resort’s bike rental hut, whistling cheerfully. I tried to walk normal. Tried to pretend the plug didn’t shift with every step. But it did. Fuck, it did. Every step rubbed it against my walls, keeping me full, stretched, aching with a quiet kind of pleasure that made it hard to think straight.
“You doing okay?” Corey asked, voice softer now as we walked side by side.
I nodded.
We walked hand in hand through the palm-lined paths of the resort until we reached the little activity hut near the beach trail. A few brightly colored bikes were lined up, ready for couples to borrow. Corey grinned when he spotted them. “There we go,” he said. “Perfect way to stretch your legs.”
I gave him a side-eye. “Stretch my legs or… hammer my prostate?”
He laughed, actually laughed, like I had told a really good joke. “Baby, I married a quick learner.”
We picked two bikes. Mine was a little smaller; Corey insisted I take the one with the softer seat because, and I quote, “you’re already riding something hard today.” I flushed instantly, adjusting my swim trunks as discreetly as possible. The plug was still
inside me. Still full. Still pressing against everything.
Corey leaned over as I was getting settled on the seat and whispered, “Feel it yet?”
“Feel what?” I asked, playing dumb.
“The vibration. The pressure. That plug working itself in deeper with every pedal stroke.”
I swallowed hard and shifted my hips. “You’re funny.”
“I’m horny,” he said with a shrug. “And married.”
He straddled his own bike, his thick thighs flexing as he sat down. The tight athletic shorts he’d changed into didn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination. His bulge was obvious, even when he wasn’t trying. Especially when he wasn’t trying.
I kept glancing over at him while we rode; his shoulders pulling taut with every push of the pedals, his arms tensing as he gripped the handlebars. The trail wound along the coast, ocean sparkling beside us, the breeze warm and salt-sweet on our skin. But all I could focus on was him. His back. His legs. His ass.
God, his ass.
“Eyes on the trail, Counselor,” he called back over his shoulder.
“Eyes on your glutes, more like,” I muttered.
He slowed down just enough to let me catch up. “Say it louder, baby.”
“I was admiring your...”
“My husband ass?” he grinned.
“Shut up.”
“You love it.”
I did. I really did. But I didn’t say anything. I just pedaled harder, cheeks burning, ass literally throbbing every time the trail dipped or curved. Every bump in the pavement felt like it pressed the plug in deeper, sent a jolt through my whole body.
Corey, of course, noticed.
“You’re awfully quiet,” he said after a while. “Everything okay back there?”
“No,” I said through clenched teeth.
He laughed. “Is my baby stuffed too full to make conversation?”
“This plug is ruining me.” I muttered, shifting again.
“Good. That means it’s working.”
He stopped suddenly, hopping off the bike and letting it rest against a wooden post near a viewpoint that overlooked the ocean. A little alcove of tropical trees shaded the path. Secluded. Quiet. The kind of place you might pause to take a picture. Or, if you were Corey, to do something inappropriate.
He beckoned me over with one finger.
I braked hard and hopped off, adjusting myself as I walked toward him. “We’re just… stopping?”
He shrugged, stepping into the shaded nook and pulling me by the waistband of my shorts until I was chest to chest with him. “Just needed a little break,” he said casually, eyes locked on mine.
I swallowed. “You’re going to kiss me, aren’t you?”
He leaned down, brushing his lips against mine. “Hard.”
And he did. He kissed me deep, tongue sliding into my mouth like he owned it. One hand gripped the back of my neck. The other slid down over the curve of my swim shorts. I gasped into the kiss when he gave my ass a squeeze.
“That little plug’s been moving with every step,” he murmured against my mouth. “Every turn of the pedal. Getting your hole so used to pressure. So open.”
“Corey,” I warned, breath catching.
“Shhh,” he soothed. “Just a kiss. Just my hand. Just my husband, standing under a palm tree, stuffed full and ready for round two.”
I whimpered.
“You feel it don’t you?” he whispered. “That ache. That stretch. You’re already so good for me. You’re going to get so used to cumming from my cock, baby, you’ll forget what jerking off even feels like.”
“You’re evil.”
“I’m obsessed,” he corrected. “With you. With this ass. With my pretty little husband being so fucking brave. You took me so well last night. You’re going to take me again tonight. And every night after.”
I leaned forward, face in his chest, unable to breathe from how turned on I was. He kissed the top of my head. “You okay?”
I nodded against him. “Just… in love.”
He smiled. “Oh baby.”
We stood like that for a few more seconds, just holding each other in the dappled sunlight.
Then he gave my ass a final squeeze and stepped back. “Alright, lovebird. Hop on. Time to ride home.”
I groaned but got back on the bike, my thighs sore, my hole definitely more than just “settled in.” Corey whistled as we pedalled away from the overlook, totally unfazed.
And me? I was dripping into my swim trunks.
The sun was starting to dip lower now, casting everything in this golden, syrupy light. It painted the palm trees in amber, lit up Corey’s skin like a dream. The breeze was softer, cooler. The path back toward the resort curved gently, framed by swaying flowers and warm ocean air. And for a moment, everything felt unreal like we were pedaling through some sun-kissed fantasy where nothing bad could touch us.
Corey looked back over his shoulder at me, smiling like he knew exactly what kind of mess I was in. “You’re doing great, baby. Almost there.”
I grunted. “My thighs are going to fall off.”
He grinned. “I told you the ride would be bumpy. Gotta prep that sweet ass for tonight.”
I whimpered.
He slowed just enough to let me catch up. “You know I’m gonna make love to you again tonight, right?” His voice dropped a little, lower and rougher. “Plug or not, I’m getting back inside what’s mine.”
That word “mine” made something flutter and ache all at once.
The bike wobbled slightly beneath me. I adjusted in my seat, painfully aware of the pressure inside me, the slickness soaking into the lining of my trunks, the subtle stretch that hadn’t stopped reminding me all day who I belonged to. The sky was streaked in orange and pink now. The resort shimmered in the distance, golden under the setting sun.
I looked at Corey; my husband and smiled. “I’m ready.”
He laughed softly, then reached back to pat my thigh as we coasted downhill.
“Good. Because your hole’s got another long night ahead of it.”
And we rode the rest of the way home with the sunset on our backs and the promise of something deeper waiting in the dark.
────୨ৎ───
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Comments
Abhishek
Yes. I am working on Part 9-12
oofusdoofus
Omg I really love this story. Is it still in progress?
