Friskyarcher Adventures, Vol. 1: The Friend [mf]

Lots of people have asked for my wife to share some sexual stores from her past. We’re going to start doing exactly that. Here’s the first installment, straight from her. Enjoy.

This story is from a number of years ago, when I found myself going on dates with boring guys that had no idea what a G-spot is, who were always intimidated by how much sex I wanted all the damn time. I felt starved for sexual attention, so I often ended up fantasizing about friends of mine, pretty frequently. One of them in particular was someone I had met randomly on the internet a while ago through a forum, and we chatted off and on and even hung out once or twice for a burger. He’s an incredibly brash person who often talked about his hookups with random women from bars and dating sites. He once even went so far to show me a video of what looked like an evening that had ended out in the woods, her topless and on her knees and her face covered in his cum.

This was how he flirted. We had gotten comfortable enough with each other to share what we were looking for sexually, and unfortunately I told him that I was into rough shit that I never got from any of my my vanilla-ass boyfriends. He liked to tease and suggest that he could help relieve me of some frustration, if I would only just ask. He’d always apologize for being an ass afterwards, though. It turned me on pretty bad.

There was a week where we had been chatting about something he needed help with – I won’t mention what specifically for the sake of anonymity – and he had invited me over for some one-on-one time to work on the project. I suspected I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of him if we were to be alone with each other, so I had been putting off agreeing to help. As it so happened, this was when I was unexpectedly between jobs and scrambling for work, so he slyly suggested that he pay me for my assistance.

Now I was listening. I immediately fantasized about the possibility of receiving money for sexual favors: the most whorish thing I could think of. I could never say it out loud though.

Anyway, that Saturday night, I had wrapped up a date with a guy who had refused my advances and decided leave in order to go to bed early. As he was leaving, I headed into the bathroom, where I quickly changed into a deep V-neck, an extreme push-up bra, and some tight jeans. Quietly, I locked the door behind me as I jogged to my car and pulled out my phone to text my internet friend. He didn’t comment that it was weird I was texting him in the evening and that I seemed uncharacteristically attentive to his messages, although I thought it was pretty obviously weird of me. He was only happy that I “finally” wanted to help him with his thing, and repeated that he would pay me for my services.

Totally wet.

He gave me his address and I drove over. As I knocked on his apt door, I wondered if I would appear too eager if I did what I was imagining and just jumped on his cock the second I walked in. He had to know what I wanted. With all his flirting, a good girl would’ve at least told him to stop, and at most – stopped talking to him entirely. But I never did. He HAD to at least suspect what was going on.

When he opened the door, he welcomed me in and offered me a drink, complementing me on how nice I looked. I told him to shut up and show me the issue I was there to work on.

We sat on his couch and he let me get to work. He sat close enough to me to touch, but said nothing other than casual conversation. He abruptly brought up money again, saying he would absolutely pay me for this.

He paused.

“I’ll give you a $50 tip if you blow me.”

I nervously laughed, but didn’t say anything.

“I’m serious.” He wasn’t taking it back this time.

I quietly set my phone down on his coffee table, and leaned back to reach for his hands, and roughly pushed them into my tits.

“Oh FUCK yes!” he nearly yelled and groped me intensely, squeezing and pressing them together in a way no one had ever done to me before. He ran his hands down my sides and to my hips, and then hoisted me on top of him so that I was facing him. I couldn’t resist if I tried, so I pulled his shirt off too and ran my hands over his shoulders. He then jerked back a cup of my bra and began sucking on my nipple as hard as he could. His hands moved up and down my body, I think I was shaking, and I closed my eyes to take it all in. I couldn’t believe I was here and doing this.

His hands moved again to my hips and he pressed me into his cock. It was hard enough that I could feel it through his jeans, and I inhaled sharply at the sensation of rubbing himself perfectly against me. He looked into my eyes and demanded, “Be a good slut and get on your knees.” I did what I was told, thrilled at his wording.

He pulled out his dick and pressed it against my lips. I looked up at him and slowly ran my tongue around the head, then down the shaft, then back up again. I circled the head around my lips similarly to when I apply lipstick, and then after glancing up at him to make sure he was watching, I forced the entire thing into my mouth. It went all the way back to my throat and I held it there, enjoying the sounds of enjoyment that had escaped him at that moment. With my lips around the base of his cock, I felt my throat tighten, and I gagged loudly. I pulled my head back from his cock but not before I had drooled all over his shaft from the sensation of gagging.

He laughed excitedly, and told me I was being such a good whore.

I stroked his cock with one hand and massaged his balls rhythmically with the other as I spat and licked enthusiastically. Then, while holding his cock by the base, I again forced it deep into my mouth, and sucked lightly as I began moving my head back and forth, focusing on slamming his head against the back of my throat. He moaned and I moved more slowly. Soon I gagged again and I had to pull back and stop. As I started to catch my breath, his slid his hand through my hair and onto the back of my head, forcing me to take him all at once again. He easily began thrusting into my face as I sloppily took every inch of his cock. Then he forcefully held my head in place as he pushed into me as far as he could. His cock was so far down my throat, I wondered if the outline would be visible on the outside. I began to gag again and he held me in place, telling me to take it like the whore I was. My hands were on his ass at this point, and my fingers began to tighten as my throat involuntarily convulsed around his cock. Right at the last moment, he let go and I leaned back to breathe, looking up at him in amazement.

“Your date is at home, thinking he went out with such good girl, but really she’s over here with me on her knees, choking on my fat cock like a slut.” He said as he shook his head and stroked his dick. I sheepishly wiped the drool from my chin with the back of my hand, trying to look sexy.

“Be a good lil whore and make me cum.” He commanded as he stood over me.

I sat up straighter and worked my mouth over his cock. After wrapping my hand around his shaft, I moved my hand and mouth simultaneously, jerking him faster and faster. He moaned and I felt his hands on my head, guiding my movements as I sped up, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. He started thrusting into me again, harder and harder and eventually almost even violently. “Fucking take my cum you filthy slut!” he breathed, and I felt his hot jizz coat my throat as he pushed himself into me.

After he slowed and eventually stopped, he pulled his cock from my mouth. A bit of cum dripped on my tits. I rubbed the dollop into my skin as I carefully licked the last bit of cum from the tip of his dick, trying to be the best whore I could.

He melted back down to a sitting position on the couch, his cock still out, sighing deeply. I watched him as I stood and pulled my shirt back on. He leaned up awkwardly, and reached into his back pocket to pull out a brown, leather wallet.

“Damn, that was amazing.” He remarked as he pulled several twenty-dollar bills from the fold.

“Hey, you don’t have to-“ I started to say, but he cut me off by raising his hand.

“I’m a man of my word, and you were an excellent slut.”

I rolled my eyes playfully, and grabbed the cash that he hand dropped to the table. I then gathered up my things and started to head out. “PLEASE tell me we can do this again soon?” He asked as I opened the heavy door, and walked outside.

As I skipped down the stairs to the parking lot, I remember thinking that I had never felt more satisfied with myself, despite not even cumming. Minutes later, I was back at my apartment, watching TV with my roommates. I vaguely realized that I hadn’t even showered after rubbing that guy’s cum into my skin before sitting right next to one of them on the couch.

Such a slut.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/40a578/friskyarcher_adventures_vol_1_the_friend_mf

9 comments

  1. Edit – just read your post history, you are obsessed with calling men cuckolds, I guess that’s your fetish – impriting shame on men who don’t have any. Have fun with that, not going to engage in this any further. I don’t think so – I think that’s kind of like going into a college orientation presentation and saying ‘What a bunch of math nerds!’ Just because people enjoy hearing about other’s sexual exploits doesn’t mean they enjoy being shamed.

  2. In my world, guys don’t want to hear about their wives past or get turned on by them fucking other men. I see a lot of men turned on by both here that’s why I asked.

  3. A cuckold is a man who gains sexual pleasure in the knowledge that his wife has made love or is making love to another man. I can speak for a lot of men on what I said. Plenty of guys don’t enjoy that either and I’d say more so. Sorry to burst your bubble. You’re right I don’t respect cuckolds. Peace out.

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