My long-term girlfriend [F/21] cheats on me [M/21], and I restake my claim. | 2016

For some background, Catherine and I had been dating maybe four years when this took place, and you can rest easy knowing we're now happily married with several years separating us and this incident. As far as descriptions go, I'm 5'11, brown wavy haired, pale skinned, and decently good looking. Catherine is more like 5'6, fit from doing yoga all the time, and also light skinned. She has breasts that are just the right size and perfectly shaped, a beautiful smile, and a laugh that brings down the house. She toes the line between cute and outright sexy extremely well. She catches your eye at first glance with her looks and sense of style, but getting to know and understand her reveals an entirely new dimension of attraction.

Catherine and I started dating in high school before going to college together. With the way we each reacted to college life, you'd have expected the normal fate of most high school relationships. I put in the minimum effort required to maintain an above average GPA so that I could party with all my new friends while Catherine continued her streak of being somewhat reserved and grinding out impressive grades and accomplishments each semester. This contrast proved to be the primary wedge within our relationship during the college years, but I never doubted my desire to stick with her for the long term or her commitment to me. Only in retrospect did I realize just how large the divide came to be.

Towards the end of my junior year, I was on my way back from a concert in a neighboring city with a few friends. I was coming down from a roll I took earlier in the night and looking to hang out until the wee hours bullshitting and probably taking more drugs. When I got to my house, Catherine called me, her voice quivering, and asked if I could pick her up. Alarm bells were going off in my head - nothing about this seemed right, and I dreaded finding out what happened. I hadn't been drinking that night and felt okay post-roll, so I made the short drive to the dorm where she was on campus (more red flags and confusion since we lived off campus and rarely went there for anything other than class). I found her on the side of the road standing near Greg, someone I'd lived in the dorms with and considered a decent friend. He was an RA now and of course knew Catherine as we'd been dating since before I met him.

No words were spoken as she meekly got in the car, and I didn't acknowledge Greg in the slightest. I barely even knew what was going on at this point but was anxiously churning through the possibilities in my head. Within a couple minutes of driving, she burst into tears and admitted she got too drunk (she rarely drinks to excess) and did something she can never take back. I knew what this meant. I told her I couldn't address it in my current mindset and dropped her at home to worry endlessly if I would forgive her or not. I snorted a couple lines of MDMA when I got back to my house and buried my face in my best friend Tom's chest, unable to even cry or feel anything except numbness but needing desperately to be held. We smoked and drank ourselves to sleep, and the rest of the night I ignored Catherine's texts.

I awoke to a message from Catherine asking if I would come over. During my heart to heart with Tom the night before, I had ultimately decided not to break it off - in my mind, doing so would be worse in the long-term because I knew she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. She so rarely makes mistakes while I'm a beacon of imperfection and constant letdown in comparison. My opinion was that she overlooks my flaws on a daily basis - I could do the same for her even if it was such a grave error because my desire to be with her, bolstered by my confidence it wouldn't happen again even at that heartbreaking moment, overshadowed everything else.

When I got there, the small talk was short, and I came right out with it.

Did you use a condom?

The answer was yes.

I asked if she regretted it, if there were any underlying feelings, and if she would have done it sober. She gave me the answers I expected and needed to hear.

At that moment, an animalistic instinct came over me, and I shoved her onto the bed. It was the insatiable need to reclaim what had been dispossessed taking over. My dick was already straining against my pants as I forced her shorts and panties halfway down her legs. There was no talking. I flipped her around and pushed her to her knees on the bed facing away from me before giving her a vengeful spank on the ass. And then an equivalent spank on the other cheek. I took my pants off and stuck my dick inside her with no warning or assistance. She gasped breathlessly as if to say, I deserve every bit of this.

Normally during sex at her house, she would make me be quiet so her housemates couldn't hear, but I didn't give a fuck that morning. She was mine, and I had to reassert that claim. I was going 100 miles an hour relentlessly pounding her from behind. The repeated contact of skin echoed against the paper thin walls. I pushed her down flat and continued spanking her ass and thrusting in and out with zero concern for her feelings or satisfaction all the while exhibiting no emotions beyond anger and a basic urge to use her to get off. I restrained her arms out to the sides with her facedown on the mattress pumping until I finally got what I wanted and came inside her. We were both still half clothed when I pulled out and left her there to clean myself up and return home. I said nothing as I got dressed; she was motionless as my cum seeped out of her and onto the sheets.

An hour after I'd left, Catherine texted me back asking where we stood. She said she was making a late lunch at home and offered to feed me if I was interested. I agreed and headed back, my thoughts lingering over the hateful and primal sex we had earlier. The feelings weren't completely satisfied by round one because I could feel myself getting hard as we sat in her kitchen making small talk.

Once we cleaned up the dishes and headed to her room, I wasted no time. Her pants were off, and my dick was inside her almost immediately. I could tell she was mentally unprepared and somewhat frightened by how I was reacting. I had her on the carpet with her knees to her chest, ramming her pussy with reckless abandon and no regard for being heard. We locked eyes briefly before I arched my body even more to really force myself deep into her. I could tell she was feeling uncomfortable from the rug burn, but I didn't care. I stood her up against the wall and roughly pushed in from behind her. She was wet but not from any foreplay of mine. Again, there were few words and primarily grunts and sweat. I bent her over the nearby desk, spanking her ass cheeks raw and knocking the desk chair over in the process. I was starting to get close and frantically manhandling her ass until I finally came inside her for the second time that day. It felt indescribable to lay claim once again. I pulled out to let my cum spill out of her and drip down her leg since I know she hates that. She caught her breath before cleaning up then collapsing on the bed.

It was a Sunday, which is usually when we do laundry together, so I stuck around for a few more hours at her request. If round one had been confusing for her emotionally, round two did nothing to clear up that message. She had never seen me act with such instinctual and animalistic passion, but I could already feel the healing process beginning.

When we do our laundry, Catherine sometimes takes off some of the clothes she's wearing to get washed. When we were in between cycles, she sat on the bed with nothing but a bra and panties. My dick started to ache once again. I laid her back on the bed, but this time, my focus was not on revenge or selfishness; it was proving my worth.

I pulled her panties to one side and flicked her clit with the tip of my tongue. She shuddered and started to relax seeing that the tone of our interaction had shifted. I began slowly, gently licking her clit and sucking on it rhythmically. I know what she likes: teasing, sucking, and a certain amount of pressure on her clit. She propped her feet on my shoulders and orgasmed for the first time of the day. Normally, I let her rest since she's overly sensitive after coming, but I didn't miss a beat. I slipped a finger in, applying pressure where I know she likes it with little actual movement. Combined with sucking on her clit and adding another finger, she came three more times in quick succession. I did not stop to let her catch up between any of them despite her quivering protests. I was ready to be inside her again.

This time, I treated her passionately and romantically. First, the bra and panties came completely off. She quickly sat on my dick knowing she was wet enough already and wrapped her legs around me while I rocked back and forth trying to be as deep as possible. We gazed at each other, spending a few seconds without moving just enjoying that feeling of physical and emotional unity. Eventually, I had her on her back with her head hanging over the side of the bed. My anger from earlier had evaporated, and Catherine was greeted with long, slow, and deep thrusts. This was the wettest she had been all day - entirely my doing. I started moving in and out faster and faster, demanding she play with her clit to get herself off. The bed creaked and slammed the wall with each motion. I felt her contract on my dick in orgasm a minute later knowing her housemates could hear everything that had transpired.

Now it was time for me to finally put the matter to rest. She got back on top of me but this time facing away. She did all the work, grinding her ass on my dick, begging me to grab fistfuls of it. I sat back while she let her hips take care of me. She went faster, faster, rubbing her clit furiously, and demanding I spank her. I was ready to cum and knew she was close too. As her legs started quivering, I pulled her ass down to my hips with my dick coming deep inside her. We collapsed to the side with me still inside cuddling her from behind.

For those wondering, our relationship strengthened significantly that day and even more after graduation. We've lived together for three years and are now successful professionals with plans to start a family in the not-so-distant future. The differences that divided us in college have now turned into the foundation of our marriage - we act as complements to each other, have better communication, and make a formidable team. I have never once regretted my decision to stay with her.