Alpha's Dirty Secret - Part 3

This fictional story features only adult characters (18+) and portrays fully consensual interactions.

It also includes language and themes that may not be comfortable for all readers, so please proceed with discretion.

Part 3: The Confrontation

The door flew open like Cole had every right to be inside. Like it was his room, not mine. Cole stood in the doorway, arms braced against the frame. He was still dressed from the night out...black jeans, tight tee clinging to the lines of his chest, chain swinging slightly where it hung from his neck. His eyes were dark and low, expression unreadable, but his jaw was tight.

I sat frozen on the bed. In my hand...still, stupidly was the pouch of his underwear. His used fucking underwear. I’d been holding it over my face not even two minutes ago.

I tried to drop it...Too late.

He saw.

He stepped inside.

“Don’t,” he said.

Just that.

I stopped moving. Swallowed. My mouth was dry, and my heart was pounding so hard it felt like I could taste it.

Cole looked down at the floor by the bed. One of the other pairs..used, stained, crumpled was lying in plain sight. I hadn’t cleaned up. Hadn’t even tried.

I’d been so fucked up, so far gone in my head, I didn’t even think he’d come home.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked, voice low and rough.

I didn’t answer. My throat locked up. My hands were shaking.

He took a few steps closer and reached down. Picked up the pair from the floor. Held it up, stretched between his hands, inspecting the cum-stiffened pouch.

“You jerking off with this shit again?” he said. “You putting this on your face like some nasty little bitch?”

I could barely breathe.

He moved closer. I didn’t even flinch. “You want this?” he said. “You want me? You fucking slut.”

He shoved the pouch of his dirty underwear against my face. The smell hit me instantly. My whole body twitched. My cock thickened in my sweatpants without me even willing it.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Cole grabbed my chin, turned my face to him. His fingers were rough, possessive.

“Fucking knew it,” he muttered. “All those nights you grabbed my laundry like a good little bitch. Thought I didn’t notice how red your ears got? How you’d sneak off to your room with that guilty look in your eye?”

He smirked, pressing closer. “I was just teasing, letting you breathe in my scent… but you went and swallowed my cum out of a used condom? You filthy little bitchboy. You want me that bad, don’t you, Mikey?”

He dragged the pouch of his underwear up the bridge of my nose, slow and deliberate, then down over my lips.

“Open your mouth, you cumdump.”

I did. I didn’t even think. Just obeyed like he was my master.

He shoved the pouch halfway in, pressing it over my tongue. I tasted everything. Sweat. Musk. That faint sharp tang of dried cum. My eyes rolled back.

“Yeah. You like that?,” Cole said, grinning now. “Nasty fuckin’ boy.”

He stood over me, towering and in control. Even from here, I could smell him - that warm, heady mix of clean skin, faint hint of perfume, and the lingering salt of sweat from the club. He kicked off his sneakers and peeled his shirt over his head, revealing that ridiculous torso… thick, solid pecs, abs carved deep enough to follow with a finger, arms lined with veins that flexed as he moved.

“Now that your mouth’s been all over it,” he said, “how about I give you what you really want.”

He unbuttoned his jeans.

My breath caught.

He pulled the zipper down slow, staring right at me. “You been thinking about this, haven’t you, you slut” he said. “Staring at my cock in the locker room. Jerking off after I go to bed. Probably thinking about it when you’re fucking your girl too.”

I flinched.

He smirked.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

He shoved his jeans down and kicked them aside, then hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his black briefs and stripped them off. They were damp at the base. The moment they hit the floor, his cock dropped free..thick, weighty, uncut, hanging low with that heavy sway that made my mouth go dry.

Long and veiny. Fuck. Even soft, it looked intimidating. It looked just fucking perfect.

My mouth dropped open without me meaning it to.

Cole stepped forward. “Yeah, open wide, little bitch. Not yet, though. I ain’t giving you my cock yet”

He reached down, gripped his cock at the base, and started stroking. Slow. Measured. His eyes stayed locked on me the whole time, daring me to look away.

I froze, watching his hand work that thick shaft, each tug making his abs flex, his breath deepen. The sound of skin on skin filled the room. He stood there over me, towering, stroking faster now. His muscles tight, jaw clenched, until finally he grunted low in his throat.

Hot ropes of cum spilled out, streaking across the underwear soaking it. Thick, warm lines dripped over my knuckles, the smell hitting me instantly..raw, sharp, unmistakably him.

Cole smirked down at me, still breathing hard. “There,” he said, rubbing the now-sticky fabric over my face. “Fresh. Hot. Just how you like it. Inhale it, bitch. Deep. Don’t hold back now.”

Cole groaned softly as he finished. A few final drips hung at the tip of his cock.

I sat there frozen. Humiliated. Hard as fuck.

He crouched down in front of me, took the now-cum drenched underwear, and rubbed it up my face again.

“Come on,” he said. “Inhale it bitch. Deep. Don’t play shy now.”

I did. I breathed through the soaked cotton, the musk and cum flooding my sinuses. My head spun. My whole body flushed. Cole watched me closely.

“You’re hard,” he said. “Of course you are bitchboy..”

His hand drifted down and rubbed over my bulge through the sweatpants. I gasped. “You think your girl knows?” he said. “That her boyfriend’s out here drinking cum outta another dude’s underwear?”

I tried to answer but I was too busy inhaling his scent, tasting his fresh cum.

“You think she’d still suck your dick if she knew you were crawling on your knees for mine?”

Then he stood.

“Strip.”

I obeyed. Shirt first, then pants. I hesitated at the boxers.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Now.”

I pulled them off. My cock slapped against my stomach. I was leaking. Pathetic. Soaked at the tip. Cole looked down at me and shook his head slowly. “Damn. You really are desperate for me. Fucking hard..”

He leaned in again. Spit directly on my cock. A big glob. It slid down my shaft. “Stroke it,” he said.

I started jerking. Slow. My hand slippery with his spit.

He walked around me. Watched. Eyes cool. Evaluating. Then he bent slightly. Grabbed the same underwear, still soaked with his cum, and shoved it against the base of my cock.

“Rub it with this. Yeah. That’s it. Lube yourself with it. You like that, huh?”

I moaned.

Cole stood tall, staring down at me.

But then...he stopped. Something changed in his expression. He looked down at his own cock. Still half- hard, but not rising like mine.

He sighed. “Fuck.”

Then, without warning, he turned and started pulling his clothes back on.

I blinked. Confused. Still stroking. Still desperate.

“Wait....what’s wrong?”

Cole didn’t answer. He pulled on his underwear, then jeans. Shirt over his head.

“Cole please.. Wait..”

“I’m not feeling it,” he muttered. He turned to the mirror near the dresser. Checked his chain. Ran a hand through his hair. Avoided my eyes.

My chest tightened. “But I...what do you want me to do. Please”

He cut me off.

“I don’t want your mouth on me. Not yet.”

I was still on my knees, cock twitching in the air.

“Then why...why did you...Cole.”

He looked at me then. Finally. His face wasn’t angry. It was almost blank. “I’m just trying to see what you are,” he said. “And whether I want it.”

The words hit harder than a slap. I looked down. Ashamed. Confused. Desperate for more.

He moved toward the door.

Paused.

“Come here,” he said. “There’s still a few drops of cum left on my cock,” he said, voice dripping with mockery. “Clean it, bitch boy.”

He pulled his cock out, thick and glistening. I crawled toward him without thinking. He laughed, low and cruel. “Look at you. I was checking. Still so fucking desperate.”

He smeared his thumb along the tip, scooping up a pearly drop, and held it out.

“Open.”

I opened. He pressed it past my lips.

“You still don’t get to touch my cock,” he chuckled. “You really thought I’d let you suck it clean? Pathetic.”

I sucked his thumb, tasting him, eyes closed, imagining it was his cock. He laughed again, rough and deep. “Good little bitch,” he muttered, pulling his hand away. Then he dropped the cum-soaked underwear in front of me like tossing a bone to a dog.

And he walked out.

Left me there. Desperate. Kneeling. Cock aching. Nose full of his scent.

I stared at that underwear, then crawled toward it. Because I knew.

He wasn’t done with me yet.

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Read Part 4 - Watersport version

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