When I was in college a while ago,* I had friend, Mike. Our third year or so, he started dating Amber. She was a cute, girl-next-door type with nice curves, fair skin, and red hair. At the time, I didn’t give her much of a thought—she was just my friend’s girlfriend. For what it’s worth, I’m a fairly athletic guy, handsome, but not overwhelmingly so.
Mike and I shared a place during our last year of college. I was up late, playing a game on my computer or something, when I noticed that I was not just hard, but aroused (short of breath and slightly lightheaded). You know how you sometimes don’t notice a noise until it’s gone quiet? I realized that I heard Mike and Amber fucking—they probably started quiet and got progressively louder—and only noticed when they finished.
Mike and Amber eventually moved in together. We stayed close after college and our friend group hung out at Mike and Amber’s place a lot. I had the occasional lustful thought. These were exacerbated by details I learned from hanging out with them—like the number of guys she slept with during her gap year before college or how she would call Mike when the guys were out and ask him to come home early to fuck.
There were a couple of times over the years when we found ourselves alone for some reason or another, walking through the city, sharing a laugh, and we’d pause at the corner, say goodnight, and go our separate ways. And nearly every time, I’d think, was it just me, or was there some kind of spark there?
They were together for five or six years. Considering the time they had been together and the awkward circumstances of the split, it was fairly amicable and nobody had to take sides. (This was helped in part by Mike’s quick rebound.) We all still hung out from time to time.
All of which is the long way of saying that it wasn’t weird for me to end up at Amber’s place one night splitting a six-pack and watching a baseball game about four months after the breakup. Amber was a huge fan of her local team and did not miss a game. It was a fun game, and it was fun to drink and chat while sitting on her couch (at opposite ends). She was wearing black tights and a t-shirt—her usual comfy girl-at-home outfit.
By the end of the game, there was some tension between us and I said, “I hope this isn’t weird, but I’ve always wanted to kiss you.”
“Oh?”
“Do you mind if I do?”
She shook her head, so I got up and moved down next to her. I leaned into her, and we kissed, gently. I had one hand on the couch for balance, and brought one to her cheek. Hers were on her lap. She was very tense. It was an incredibly awkward kiss and reminded me of two kids trying to figure the whole thing out for the first time (which neither of us were). The kiss broke.
“That felt awkward,” I said.
“Yeah.”
“I think we can do better.”
“So do I.”
We kissed again. There was no tension at all. She brought a hand to my thigh. Still leaning on one hand for balance, I brought the other to her hip, then slide it up her shirt waiting for her to stop me. But she didn’t. She wasn’t wearing a bra, which I hadn’t noticed. The thought that she had been sitting there all night without one turned me on. I caressed her breast and let my palm slide over her nipple, teasing it gently.
My twisting to kiss her was uncomfortable, so I stood up and took her hands and pulled her up from the couch. We stood kissing for a moment, our bodies pressed together. I felt guilty for making out with my friend’s ex, but that made the whole thing so much better. I turned and sat back down on the couch, and she straddled me. We continued to kiss deeply, still clothed. My hands moved from her hips, to her ass, to her breasts.
We were both getting into it more, and I slide her shirt up. She leaned back so I had room to pull it off of her. Her breasts were gorgeous—pale, pink nipples. She moved her hips, grinding herself into my erection, then leaned her chest forward bringing her breast to my mouth. I took her breast into my mouth, and she put a hand behind my head and pulled it into her. I experimented between lightly sucking, licking, nibbling, trying to see what her body reacted to, and then I stayed with that.
While my mouth was occupied, I used one hand to lightly trail up and down her spine, before laying it flat against the curve of her lower back and sliding it down into her tights. Again, I was surprised and excite to find that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. I thrust my hips against hers. I push my hand down her ass, waiting for a stop sign, but none ever came. My fingers followed her ass until they passed between her legs and up the front again finding the crease of her pussy. I pushed one finger slightly into her. The warmth and wetness were immediate.
I wanted to feel that pussy with a better angle, so I rolled her off me to lay on her couch—the couch she and Mike had the entire time they lived together and which I had crashed upon from time to time. I was still fully clothed, but she was down to her tights. We were still kissing, deeply and urgently. I had one hand down the front of her tights, wetting my fingers with her pussy and then letting it glide across her clit.
At one point, I took her hand and placed on my cock. She squeezed me through my pants, then took her hand off. I was disappointed, until she tried to press her hands down the top of my pants. Her fingertips grazed the head. She started to fumble with the button on my pants. I stopped her, stood up, pulled off my shirt, and started to unbuckle my pants.
She got off the couch and pressed herself into me. We kissed and I pulled her tights off her. She pulled my underwear down.
“This isn’t about him, right?” she asked.
“No. This is about us.”
“Do you have a condom?”
I went to get one out of my bag while she walked into her bedroom. I found her sitting on the edge of the bed. I knelt in front of her. She laid back as I brought my mouth to her shaved pussy. I explored her with my tongue until I felt her hips twitch against my face. She grew wetter underneath my tongue. Eventually, she pulled my face up to hers, and we kissed briefly, before I took the condom out and rolled it on.
We began kissing again, my cock sliding against the outside of her pussy. I told her to put it inside her. She reached down, and I pushed my cock inside her as she guided me in.
I held myself above her, so I could watch her breasts move as we fucked, then my cock work in and out of her pussy, then her eyes and face. She reached down to grab my hips and pull me into her, setting a rhythm. She moaned my name. I’m not going to lie: hearing my friend’s ex moan my name was fucking intoxicating.
“I’m going to cum,” I said. “Do you want me to wait for you?”
“No. Do it.”
I came, hard, with her hands on my hips pulling us together as I emptied myself. After a moment to gather ourselves and some post-coital kissing, I pulled out of her, and we lay in her bed (their old bed), catching our breath. She looked beautiful, laying on her back, but legs twisted toward me. I wanted to go to her, maybe initiate a second round, but the foot of bed between us was like a mile of guilt.
Eventually, I dressed, kissed her goodbye, and left. She stayed in the bed the entire time.
*names and some details changed to protect the various parties involved.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/chiak6/hangout_with_my_friends_exgf