Confession: Sex with my friend’s wife [MF]

**Like I’ve said in previous posts. I figured it would be fun to go back to my promiscuous (man-whore) days and recall some of the stories from back then. I’m generally considered a good-looking guy (6’3”, dark hair, blue eyes, swimmers build, workout regularly), so that enabled me to have quite a fun sex life. These stories are 100% true and not embellished in any way. I think that a straight honest story even if not as exciting at times is a bigger turn on, so that is what I will continue to try to give.**

I figured this contest is a chance to confess something I have kept to myself for years. I was 21 at the time. I had been friends with Tim for a few years. We met through a mutual friend and bonded over our affinity for underground music. We had one of those hot/cold relationships where we would hangout a lot for stretches of time and then become distant for others. The distant stretches were usually caused by our tendency to get into heated arguments with each other. We were both passionate people and admittedly a little immature at the time. After time apart we normally slipped back into our normal routine as if nothing had happened.

Tim married young. He was 18 and his wife 21 when they got married. They had been married for four years and things had been bad for three. They constantly fought, typically over stupid things when they were drunk. They drank often. Ashley, his wife, berated him for spending too much time with his friends. She was jealous of any relationship he had outside of theirs. She also got angry at Tim for his drinking, but mainly because he had put on about 25 pounds over the course of their marriage. She drank as much as he did, but her body showed no ill effects. Ashley was attractive but blended into a crowd. She was about 5’5″, thin, B cup boobs, cute perky ass, light brown hair, wore light makeup. Her face sort of reminded me of the singer Jewel.

It felt toxic to be around them once they started fighting. There were many nights a group of us were hanging out, things would turn ugly between them and cause everyone to leave. She eventually started lashing out at his friends as well. We typically tried to stay neutral, but when she dragged us into the mess we no longer wanted to be around at all. Things went on like this for some time and many of us had distanced ourselves from her. We only got together with him if he was able to hangout alone.

After another year or so Tim told me that he and Ashley were getting a divorce. It was her decision. I was relieved for him. Even though he didn’t want the divorce I knew it was the best thing for both of them. They both seemed miserable outside of the first year or so.

Fast forward a couple of months. Tim and I were going to see a band at a venue near the apartment she was living in. He asked me if I would go by her apartment with him after, because there were some things of his he needed to grab from her. I told him I would go. I didn’t really want to. I hadn’t seen her in almost a year and she had done her best to burn the relationships she had with his friends to the ground prior to that. Tim and I both got really drunk at the venue. He was clearly stressed about seeing her after and I was as well, although clearly to a lesser extent. The bands were finished and I didn’t think it was a good idea to go there as drunk as we were. She kept texting him asking if we were coming. He told me he should just go get it over with.

We exited the venue and headed to her apartment. We tried to keep the mood light on the way over, cracking jokes. She let us in. She had this sort of weird smirk on her face. She was clearly irritated that we were so drunk, but didn’t react in the way she used to. She sort of had a smirk of “I’m irritated, but I clearly made the right decision. You guys are idiots.” She offered us beer. We clearly didn’t need it, but we took it. We sat down at her round dining table and she walked around the apartment grabbing things of his to hand to him. I am not sure why she didn’t have everything gathered up before we got there. The two of them talked for about 15 minutes and stayed surprisingly civil. Tim seemed to want to stay longer, but I kept pushing him to leave. I knew if we stayed longer things would devolve into a fight. We headed out.

Tim and I jumped into a cab. He started being a complete asshole to me out of nowhere. He told me I was a shitty friend and that I should have let him stay. He started going back to past arguments we had. He started getting really personal and was clearly trying to hurt me. In hindsight I think he was just lashing out, because seeing her made him feel like shit. I didn’t process it that way at the time. I was very drunk. My feelings were hurt and I was pissed. We argued the whole cab ride to his apartment. I had planned to just crash at his place, but by the time we got there I thought we were going to come to blows. I told him I was just going to have the cab take me to my apartment, which was 15 minutes away. He flipped me off and yelled “fuck you.”

I was almost falling asleep in the back of the cab. The adrenaline of the argument was wearing off. I felt my phone vibrate. It was Ashley. The text read, “Are you with Tim?” I didn’t think it was that strange at first. She hadn’t texted me in probably a year and a half, but when she did it was typically to get ahold of Tim. I thought maybe she tried to call him and he didn’t answer. I responded, “No.” She said, “What are you doing?” Hmm strange. I responded, “In a cab, going home.” She said, “Can we talk?” I was truly confused. We never “talked”, even when things were good. As I was pondering how to respond my phone started ringing, it was her.

She asked if I would come by her apartment to talk. I was flat out rude to her. I was angry from arguing with Tim and I didn’t really like her as a person. I told her, “fuck no, why?” She got emotional and told me she really wanted to talk about Tim and wanted to talk to someone who also knows him well. She said she was really having a hard time with divorcing him. She genuinely sounded upset, so I dropped the tough guy routine. I quickly thought through the social issues that could arise from me going to my friend’s wife’s apartment late at night alone. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t do it unless I ran it by my friend, but I was pissed at him and questioned if I even wanted to continue the friendship. On top of that I was still really drunk. The combination led to my decision to go by her place. I figured in reality it would be innocent enough. I would go by there for 30 minutes. Let her cry about some stuff. Tell her everything would work out and they would both be fine alone. Then, I would leave.

I walked into the apartment. It was weird being there again an hour after I left, thinking I would never see the place again. It was even weirder being alone with Ashley, especially because she had on pajama pants and a tank top. She asked if I wanted a beer. I took one, but shouldn’t have. We sat down on her couch. I was trying to keep from seeming too drunk, but internally I was trying my best to follow what she was saying. She was talking about how worried she was about Tim being okay now that they are getting divorced. On the phone I was under the impression she was questioning if they should get divorced. She was not questioning it. She offered me another beer. I took it, but only had a sip. She asked if she could lay down on the couch. I told her that was fine, but that I needed to leave. I started to stand up, but she reached up from the couch and grabbed my hand. She said, “please stay a little longer.” The way she grabbed my hand and held onto it made it clear something else was going on.

My mind raced. Unfortunately, it was racing and sloshing through a lot of alcohol. The way she touched my hand immediately made my cock start to get hard. I was done for at that point. She pulled me down to the couch with her. She was on her back and I was on top of her. She pulled me to her and we kissed. She started breathing heavily. We didn’t waste much time. She grabbed and tugged on my belt and tried to unzip my pants. I pulled her tank top straps down to where her arms slipped through, revealing her breasts and leaving the tank top around her midsection. I licked and teased her nipples. We were a chaotic flurry of limbs, touching, kissing, pushing, pulling, thrusting, for seconds before quickly moving on. It was that kind of intensity that typically only comes along with drunken first-time lust. I didn’t even like her and I really don’t think she liked me either, but we were about to have an intense fuck.

I slipped her pajama pants off. She didn’t have on underwear. She immediately reached down and played with her clit and shoved her fingers in her pussy. She was soaked. I could feel it on her pajama pants when I took them off. They were soaked as well. She said “come here.” She masturbated as she pulled me toward her. My pants were unzipped and had been tugged partially down. I pulled them the rest of the way down and she grabbed my cock with her left hand. She lay on the couch pleasuring herself as she began to stroke my cock. I had a flash in my brain imagining Tim walking in. I pushed it out of my mind.

She wanted me to straddle her face. I began face fucking her. She moaned as my cock sloppily slid in and out of her mouth. I pushed hard to the back of her throat. She couldn’t take it further. She gagged. I pulled my cock from her mouth and rested it on her face. Her spit was running down her face. She moaned louder and started cumming. Her tongue flicked and licked the underside of my cock as her orgasm diminished. I got up from the couch. Her hair was a mess and her face covered in her own spit. I told her to get up and turn around.

She got on her knees on the couch and bent over, grabbing the back. I slid my cock in her from behind. Her pussy, legs, and ass were all soaked. She had been gushing and I could feel it and hear it each time I thrusted into her. I kept having short thoughts wondering what in the fuck I was doing. It was almost like a dream. It felt like some sort of alternate reality. Like I wasn’t really there. I couldn’t be there. How could I be there? Then, my thoughts would move on to thinking I should leave. But what good would it do to leave at that point. I was already fucking her. I had already done the thing I shouldn’t be doing. I fucked her harder.

I lightly grabbed her neck and squeezed as I fucked her from behind. Sloppy wet sounds rang through the apartment. She moaned and howled as I squeezed her neck and fucked her as hard as I could. She yelled for me to cum in her. She started fingering her ass as I fucked her. I was so drunk I wasn’t sure if I could cum. It hadn’t even crossed my mind until then. I was rock hard, but I didn’t feel close to orgasm. After a few more strokes I pulled her fingers away from her ass. Her ass was still soaking wet. In an inspired moment I began pushing my cock against her ass. I figured it gave me a better chance of cumming. It slid in fairly easily, much easier than anyone in the past even without lube. She moaned out. I was fucking her in anger. She was taking it. Why was I there and why was I doing this. I blamed her in that moment.

She stopped me and flipped over onto the couch with her shoulders and head against the back and her ass hanging over the edge of the cushion. I slid back into her ass and held my hand lightly against her throat. She moaned and gasped as she looked down at my cock going in and out of her ass. I was losing it. I grunted and moaned. She muttered, “Oh yes, yes.” My cock began to twitch as I unloaded my cum in her ass. She was violently exhaling for a few moments, almost like she was hyperventilating. She caught her breath and lightly rubbed her clit and closed her eyes. I stood up and just stared for a second in a haze as she lay there with my cum running out of her ass onto the couch. I had sat on that same couch with Tim many times hanging out. I told myself I didn’t want to be friends with him anymore anyway. I think it was my way of coping with what I had just done. Tell myself there was nothing worth salvaging. Burn it all the fuck down.

I went to her bathroom and got a towel for her. She cleaned my cum from her ass and the couch. She smiled at me. She asked if I wanted to stay over. I had this sobering feeling wash over me. I looked at her like she was insane to propose that. It was no more insane than what I had just voluntarily done. Seeing that she was content with what she had just done made me realize I was not. I told her I needed to go. She begged me to stay. I didn’t say anything and then left.

I woke up the next day in a panic. I couldn’t believe I had done what I did. I was paranoid that he already knew somehow. Maybe it was a set up and she did it to tell him and hurt him. I was halfway through the day. I was nursing a major hangover. I felt like shit emotionally and physically. She texted me that afternoon. She was cheery and asked if I wanted to come over. I couldn’t believe what was happening. She was clearly just getting off on fucking her husband’s friend. I knew she didn’t actually like me. Even if she did actually like me, what the fuck was she thinking. Was she thinking we would just start hanging out all of the time behind his back. I realize that’s what people do, but it’s not what I do. It’s not what we do, not with our past. I responded and told her I didn’t think it was a good idea.

She texted me off and on for the next few weeks. I texted back, but was distant and made it clear I didn’t think it was a good idea to hangout anymore. I didn’t see Tim for a month after our argument. It was one of our notorious “breaks.” He apologized for the way he acted. I was quick to accept. Of course I was, I felt like shit. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him what I did. I knew it would tear him apart. I distanced myself from him though. I felt like a fraud of a friend. I didn’t make it obvious. I was just “busy” more than usual. We drifted apart because of that and other life reasons over the next couple of years. I still feel guilty about it and wonder if I should have just told him. Probably for the best that I didn’t.

***Also, if you are a female and live near Los Angeles (or anywhere else I guess. I travel quite a bit) you should send me a message. Might be a long shot, but would be cool/interesting to have sex with someone that enjoys my stories and then becomes a story. Of course, we would have to actually meet up after this pandemic ends, but send me a message anyway.***

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/gosnh1/confession_sex_with_my_friends_wife_mf