My girlfriend's friend 2

After the first time he fucked me, while I was still lying face down on the bed soaked with sweat and semen, with his cock still half-hard inside my ass, throbbing softly as it released the last hot drops of thick cum, I felt him slowly pull out. A long stream of his white, creamy load escaped from my open hole, sliding over my balls and down the inside of my thighs. My ass throbbed, stretched, hot, full of him. He dropped down beside me, breathing hard, and ran a hand over my sweaty back.

“Fuck... I’d never fucked such a tight, hot ass,” he murmured, kissing my shoulder.

We stayed silent for a few minutes, catching our breath. My cock was still half-hard beneath me, smeared with my own cum. The smell of sex filled the room: male sweat, semen, the faint musky scent of his skin.

A couple of hours later, after we’d gone downstairs naked, eaten something quickly, and he’d bent me over the counter to fuck me again standing up—fast, brutal, grabbing me by the hair while he drove his thick cock all the way in and came inside me for the second time—my phone vibrated on the table.

It was a video from her.

I opened it without saying a word. On the screen was our old apartment. She had built a bonfire in the inner courtyard. My clothes were burning: all my T-shirts, favorite jeans, jackets, even my boxers. The camera shook as she threw more clothes onto the fire. Then she showed my sneakers, my books, my old console, the watch her family had given me. Everything in flames. Her voice was ragged with rage: “Fuck you, you son of a bitch! I hope you rot!” The video lasted almost two full minutes, zooming in on each thing burning.

I watched the whole thing expressionless. He came up behind me, still naked, his cock brushing my ass as he looked over my shoulder.

“Is that her?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah. Burning everything.”

I waited for some emotion: guilt, sadness, regret. But nothing came. Just an absolute calm, almost liberating. My cock didn’t even twitch. On the contrary, I felt a deep relief, as if those burned things represented a life I no longer wanted.

“I don’t give a fuck at all,” I said out loud, deleting the video and blocking her forever. “She can burn whatever she wants. It’s not my problem anymore.”

He smiled, hugged me from behind, and bit my earlobe. His cock started hardening again against my ass, still full of semen.

“Good. Because now it’s just you and me.”

But then came the really complicated part. The tension between us was no longer just sexual. It was deeper, denser. I loved the way he fucked me: that dominant but controlled force, the way he filled me completely without a condom, how he made me feel used, desired, and completely his with every thrust. And he noticed it in my moans, in the way I pushed my ass back asking for more. The attraction was obvious, electric, almost dang...