We’re just friends….right? [FM] [Cheating] [Passion] [Fiction]

I met Philip at a coffee house. We were both waiting at the counter, standing a few feet apart, when the barista called his order first. He was wearing black-framed glasses, a grey t-shirt stretched across his broad chest, and a pair of athletic shorts. I was in a knee-length flowy red skirt and black top, tight enough to showcase my ample breasts. He was typing something on his phone, not really acknowledging anyone around him. He certainly didn’t seem to notice me checking him out, which allowed me a very good look.

“Chai with oat milk for Phil.” He looked up finally, slid his phone into his pocket, and stepped to the counter, grabbing the paper cup and turning around.

He must have seen me laugh because he blushed slightly before he said, “Hey, it tastes better than regular milk.” I just shrugged, waiting for the barista to set down my own order. A moment later, her voice rang out again.

“Another chai with oat milk for Kat.”

I picked up my cup and raised it in mock cheers. Philip laughed and there was something about him that made me ask to sit at his table instead of running straight home. He smiled brightly and gestured to the chair across from him. We chatted and flirted a bit, discussing the nerdy stickers on his phone case, our respective jobs, and my love of RPGs, both board and video.

“I still remember when the Super Nintendo came out,” I said, sipping the last of my chai. “Do you remember that? It was so amazing.”

“Uh, no,” he said with a laugh. “I was like two.”

“What? How old are you?”

“I’m 32,” he said casually.

“Shit, I’m ten years older than you.” I shook my head as another smile crossed his face, unveiling his prominent canine teeth, which I found surprisingly attractive.

We exchanged snaps and started chatting that evening. It didn’t take long for our conversations to get personal, then intimate, then sexual. I told him about my open marriage and he told me about his decidedly closed one. He was sexually unsatisfied at home, his wife uninterested, and the acts felt mostly transactional.

Messages gave way to photos, photos to videos, and soon we were sexting and making each other cum at nearly every opportunity. His videos made my pulse pound. Listening to him talk to me, watching his face as he stroked his cock. There was no mistaking that I wanted to take our friendship to the benefits level.

Physically, he ticked all the boxes. His body was strong, with just a layer of softness to it. The kind of body that could cuddle you tightly, making you feel warm and secure and then fuck you senseless into the morning.

His ass, thighs, and calves were firm from years of various sports in his youth, and showcased when he wore shorts, which was most of the time. His light, hazel-green eyes sparkled with excitement as he discussed topics that he loved. His hair and beard were both dark and shortly trimmed, with just a few grey hairs emerging..

Philip was, simply put, the whole package. But I was especially drawn to a very specific feature. There was something about his mouth: the sharp curves, how the lower lip was thicker than the top, how he bit it when he was turned on. And yes, those cute little sharp fangs. I wanted that mouth on mine, kissing me, then moving slowly down my body. I told him so, many times.

He would echo my sentiments but any discussion of logistics caused him to become reluctant and shut down my attempts.

*I can’t be physical with you. This has to stay online. Maybe we can be friends, but nothing more.*

*Of course,* I wrote back. *I would never pressure you into something you’re not comfortable with.*

*Thank you for understanding. You’re so awesome.*

As much as I wanted to respect his boundaries, my desire for Philip only grew the more I learned about him. Our tastes in books, movies, video games, D&D, hiking, animals. The attraction was impossible to deny. When we weren’t marveling about how similar we were or showing off our naked bodies, we complained about our respective spouses. Mine had a tendency to get jealous, even though we were open. His was grumpy and borderline mean to him. Still, despite his grumbling, he still maintained that he was, overall, happy. For the most part. Usually.

And so it came to pass, several months after we met, we were chatting at a new coffee house on a dark and rainy evening. It was nearly empty, with just one or two other couples sitting around the room. We sat at a square table, taking adjacent sides, our knees occasionally touching. My eyes darted across the screen of the laptop open between us, helping him proofread his current sci-fi story. It was a pretty transparent reason to see him, to be close to him again. I could smell him, clean from a recent shower and slightly spicy, probably his deodorant. I would read a few paragraphs, give him mild critique, a bit of praise, and then read a bit more. He truly had a gift with words. We went on like this for a while, in intermittent silence.

“God, you look amazing,” he said suddenly. I had chosen this dress especially for him, though I didn’t tell him that. It was dark blue and low cut, showing off the deep cleavage between my pale, round breasts. The skirt was short enough to reveal most of my thigh when I crossed my legs, which I tried to do whenever possible.

“Thank you, Philip.” I said with a wry smile, my amber eyes peering into his green ones.

He laughed. “I told you, only my mom calls me Philip. Call me Phil.”

I leaned to him, my lips a fraction of an inch from his ear. “Philip,” I whispered in a sultry voice. I saw his eyes widen for the briefest of moments, then he cleared his throat as I leaned back. I laughed lightly.

“Okay then, *Katherine,*” he said exaggeratedly. He shifted in his chair and I imagined with a muted sigh what might be happening in his pants. The barista set our mugs down. I had a hot cider, and he ordered a chai, as usual. We thanked her and she nodded, walking back behind the counter.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t want to try it,” he said, “look at this whipped cream. It’s a work of art.” I peered into the mug.

“Yes, it’s very pretty,” I said.

“And the best part is it tastes like marshmallow. Seriously. Here. Try some.” He dipped his finger in the whipped cream and held it out to me. He had said it innocently enough. *Here, Kat, lick my finger.* But still, my heart raced as I stared at the dollop balanced on his fingertip. I looked back up at his mouth. I had thought of little else but kissing him since we started chatting.

Did he know? Did he understand how much I yearned to taste his body? To push this table away and straddle him, pressing my lips to his. To feel his body relax into mine. To slip him inside me and give him everything he needed, everything he was missing. He seemed so calm, so innocent in that moment. How could he know what I was thinking? I decided I would show him. Give him a taste as he was about to give me one.

“Okay,” I said with a shrug. I wrapped my hand around his, bringing it to my lips. I looked him in the eye as I opened my mouth and slid his finger all the way in, wrapped my tongue around the digit and pulled it slowly back out. I held his gaze, his cheeks blushing deeply.

“You’re right,” I said, wiping the corner of my mouth. “It’s delicious.”

The look in his eyes made me think I had gone one step too far. He stared at me for a few interminable seconds, his eyes wide. He looked cornered, surprised yes, but also almost terrified. I saw him swallow drily.

“I need to go…” His voice was raspy as he stood, gathering his bag and laptop and walking out of the door without another word.

My mouth was open in shock and I tried to gather my things and follow him.

“Wait!” I called out. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

He turned and walked behind the building to the parking lot.

“Philip, wait. Please.” I caught up to him and reached out, grabbing his arm. He turned and the intensity in his eyes startled me. I gasped and stepped back slightly, removing my hand.

“I–” but I couldn’t get another syllable out. He stepped to me quickly, dropping his bag to the ground. He pressed his lips to mine hungrily, pushing me against the brick of the coffee house. My breath was forced from my lungs. We kissed like lovers reunited after years apart, starving for each other’s touch. Oh my god, finally. Finally I had him close to me after all this time. I was dizzy with lust.

His lips and teeth found my neck, and I heard him unbutton and unzip his pants. He lifted my skirt and pulled my leg up onto his hip. His fingers snaked under my panties, and he growled into my shoulder, feeling my wetness, how ready I was for him.

He pulled the thin fabric to the side and pushed his hard, thick cock inside me. I squealed and he placed a hand on my mouth as he began to fuck me in hard, deep strokes. His other hand gripped my tits greedily, squeezing and pinching them.

I could feel the bricks scratching the skin of my back and shoulders, but I didn’t care. He shifted, grabbing my other leg and placing it on his hip. He was now supporting me completely, both hands on my hips as he began to fuck me in earnest. His hard cock pushed even deeper into me and I cried out.

He grunted loudly with each thrust. “Fuck, it’s better than I imagined,” he mumbled. I wasn’t sure if he was even talking to me. He was fucking me like a man possessed. I was afraid to say anything, afraid that if I uttered a single syllable, the spell would be broken and he would realize his mistake and leave.

I wrapped my legs around his hips and clutched him tight. I couldn’t stay silent any longer. “Yes, Philip. Fuck meeee,” I whispered into his ear. I could feel the need, the urgency as he drove his rock-hard dick into me. I had never been fucked with such raw passion.

“Fuck I love when you call me that.” He spoke softly, looking into my eyes. “No one ever does. But coming from your mouth….” His words trailed off as he studied my face before kissing me again. We kissed only briefly before he pulled his head away again.

“I’m going to cum, Kat.” He started to pull away, to set me back down on the ground.

“No, please,” I begged him. “Please cum inside me.”

He growled and bit his lip, as though my pleading opened the floodgates. “Okay,” he said in a low rumble, “but you’re cumming with me.” His left hand slid inward from my hip, his thumb finding my clit, just above where his thick shaft was pistoning inside me. It only took a few moments, a few firm circles of pressure before I erupted in orgasm, squeezing him even tighter, my body electric with ecstasy. I had been dreaming of this moment, and I had rubbed myself just like this when I was alone, imagining what it would be like to have him inside me. It surpassed all of my fantasies.

He shoved his hips once more into mine, cumming hard into my tight, spasming pussy. I could feel his cock twitching with his climax as he filled me, his grunting giving way to open-mouthed silence as he let every last drop out inside me.

His hands slipped from my hips, and I set one leg down, keeping the other around him, not yet wanting him to withdraw. He placed his palms on the cool brick on either side of my head. We were both panting, trying to catch our breath, neither of us entirely sure of what had just happened. He looked deep into my eyes one more time, and kissed me as he set my other leg down and slipped his still-hard cock from me.

I could feel our combined fluids slide slowly down my inner thigh as he pulled away, tucking himself back into his pants. I shifted my panties back into place, adjusted my skirt, and ran my fingers through my hair, trying to appear as though I hadn’t just had the best fuck of my life.

He stood a foot or so away from me, and ran a hand over his mouth in disbelief. He backed away slowly, grabbing his bag and muttering, “I really do have to go. I’ll see ya on Snap, Kitty Kat.” He seemed almost reluctant to leave, like he wanted to say more, but finally he just turned and walked to his car. I watched him drive away, still frozen in the same spot. I sighed, closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall.

My pussy ached. My soul yearned. Still, it was amazing. I took a deep breath and started toward my own car, marveling at what had just happened. My phone chimed a notification for a message. I unlocked my phone and smiled.

Philip.

*Next time, get those tits out.*

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/veobft/were_just_friendsright_fm_cheating_passion_fiction