You come over to pick something up. I’m home alone.
My heart starts beating quickly as you enter the apartment. I’ve never been alone with you, and my infatuation with you hasn’t abated. We met for the first time at a table of people, and our eyes lingered on each other for longer than normal. When that happened, I caressed my partner’s knee beside me, as if to ground me and remind myself of the rules.
I’ve always followed them.
“Hey,” you say, smiling.
“Hey yourself,” I say stupidly. “Here’s the game.” You take it and thank me, standing awkwardly.
“Do you want a drink?” I ask.
“Uh, sure,” you say, and sit on the couch.
It’s the middle of the afternoon so I settle on lemonade. I bring the drinks and sit near you on the couch, a little closer than two friends need to be. I’m freshly showered and I know I smell good, which is a part of the upcoming puzzle that I’m relying on.
“How’s your week been going?” I ask.
“Not the best, but okay,” you say.
“What’s not the best?”
“Execs at work preventing me from making an actual difference and moving forward on projects, as usual,” you say.
We’ve chatted about this before.
“That’s rough,” I say, and I place my hand just above your knee in comfort.
You look at it and then me, but fleetingly, and then back to your drink. You are slightly flushed but I know my cheeks are burning.
“Listen, I -” you begin.
“I like you,” I interrupt.
You look at me with mild fascination. Your blue eyes are so damn mesmerizing. I look away, feeling ashamed and also amazed with myself for actually saying these risky words.
“I like you too,” you say finally, again looking away. “But you’re not single.”
“You are, though,” I say. “Can’t we round up?”
You laugh and shift closer to me.
“We shouldn’t be having this conversation,” you finally say, but you’re not moving.
“Nope,” I agree.
A beat passes. Suddenly I’m not feeling shy or wary anymore. The truth is out, and dammit, you like me too. I place my hand high on your thigh.
You look at me. “Are you sure?”
“I am,” I say. “I want to break the rules once in my damn life and get what I want, when I want it.”
“So I’m just a body to you?” you ask, looking mildly hurt.
I stare at you in mild shock and horror.
“No!” I say quickly. “Not at all, I-”
You cut me off, laughing. “I’m just fucking with you.”
“Ass!” I reply, slapping your leg, and we both laugh.
The mood shifts.
I lean toward and give you a PG rated kiss. Your lips are soft and welcoming.
As I draw away, you look into my eyes. Almost instantaneously I feel both of our pupils dilate, both of the looks changing from curiosity to hunger.
Your beard is scratching me in your hurried anticipation. Nothing PG is going on anymore. We’re kissing each other deeply, competing for who wants it more. My mouth finds your lower lip and traps it greedily. I feel your tongue touring my mouth curiously, expertly. After 30 seconds of this, I need to be closer to you. I break us apart and climb on top of you, diving deeply back into your lips as quickly as possible. I press my breasts against you and you give a slight moan. My god, what that moan does to me. Like a direct current to my pussy. I feel electrified, alive, kissing your beard and neck and earlobes as you grip my hips and I press myself into you further.
I become aware of you suddenly, hard as a rock. I was too distracted by your lips to notice. What is it about a hard cock pressed flush against your body? It never gets old, never loses its charm. Our mouths shift and slide over each other now slowly and carefully, like the world might come crashing down if we plunge again. It’s sensual, fantastical. We explore what we dreamed about since our initial meeting across the table. You taste like mint and cedar, and beneath that, the raw hint of epinephrine – sweat and blood. I press you close to me, frustrated that space remains. I want no gap, no chasm, pure connection – absolute lockedness between our bodies and minds. I squeeze your skin and relish its firm yet somehow supple feel. I want to touch all of you at once and cannot. I press my hands against your chest, feeling muscle and skin and bone and life.
I break us apart and lead you to the bedroom. These moments in between the act are always surreal, like when you break away from the life of the party and retreat to the bathroom alone. Fortunately the trip from couch to bed is brief and our lips resume what they do best very quickly. You let out something between a moan and a growl as you push me down, gently but assertively, on the bed. I want to kiss more of you but I simply cannot let go of your mouth, cannot escape from the taste of your tongue and lips, the sounds you emit gently and roughly.
“Roll for initiative,” I finally say.
You laugh and leave to get the dice. I immediately regret the line as the warmth of you leaves me. I admire the breadth of your shoulders, the dark hair on your forearms, the calm masculinity of your body.
You come back, cheeks partially filled with beautiful colour, and roll on the dresser. 18.
“Cock in my mouth,” I tell you.
Another barely perceptible moangasp – you’re caught off guard by my directness. “Are you sure?” you ask again, even while your dick strains against your jeans. I give you a look and you nod. “I’m really just thinking of you and your comfort, you know. It can’t be fun being trapped by denim. It’s actually altruism.” You laugh and we both race to remove the layers of clothes. I see it for the first time, and it’s beautiful and thick and hard and immediately fits perfectly deep into my throat. There is no pretense – I’d like to marvel at it, admire it, kiss along it, but there will be time again for that. For now, the need for you to be inside me is too pressing.
“Fuuuuck” you emit as you rush into my mouth and throat. “Oh my god, that feels fucking amazing.” You alternate between closing your eyes and enjoying the feel, and opening your eyes to look down at the sight of your friend’s girlfriend taking your cock. I feel like a queen.
What is it about being filled, literally, by another person? Having the most vulnerable part of someone inside of you, desperate to feel your next move? Being in complete control of the pace and breadth of the pleasure you can give someone?
I move my mouth up and down, coating your cock and moaning automatically at how good the smooth shaft feels against my tongue and throat, how well you fill the space. It’s one of those stereotypically porny things that women pretend to be over the moon about a blowjob – but in my case, they actually feel tactically amazing, and the psychological boon is not overrated. Freud would have a field day.
My tongue moves along the bottom of your cock as I bob up and down, twisting my hand along the base that I’ve moistened with spit and caressing the tip. God, I could suck cock all day, especially a good cock like this. I’m lost in the act.
You almost immediately tell me to stop, to slow down, because you’re going to cum. I feign sadness and then grin, kissing the tip and stroking slowly but insistently. I look into your eyes. You hold and rub my breasts so gently, as if treasuring their weight and feel. You’re lost in lust, and I break out of my own spell momentarily to enjoy you so thoroughly immersed in the experience of sex, of passion and lust and desire. “Has it been a while?” I ask you boldly. “Yes and no,” you reply. “It’s been a while since it’s been this amazing.” I smile at you, completely content.
You take my shoulders and guide me down on the bed. Your hands find my clit and slick lips, and I nearly pass out. You’ve caused the special kind of lubrication that feels almost foamy, the kind that only results from immense arousal. You touch my lips and clit so carefully and precisely, as if you’ve known them for years. “God, the folds of your pussy feel incredible,” you say. You circle, you savour me with your touch. Your face and mouth are pressed into my neck, eyes closed, lost yet present at the same time. I put my fingers on your jaw and gently tilt your head toward mine; you open your eyes and our gazes lock. It’s like a jolt of electricity – your eyes are big and a deep blue, and since we’ve met you’ve been unafraid to hold contact with mine. I note with alarm that I think I could look into them for all of time – but then your fingers pick up the pace and you moan into my ear and I’m fucking gone.
“You’re so fucking good at that,” I tell him, feeling short of breath.
Your smile is so genuine, unobtrusive, slightly crooked. I better not be fucking falling in love with you. Not two men.
I’m in awe of how carefully you proceed, instead of going at it like a woodpecker as most men do. Gentle but dynamic, well-paced, picking up time and speed when I squirm. You take a breast in your mouth and, mirroring the experience with your cock, it’s the perfect fit. Instead of performing, you are experiencing. I lean it to your fingers, urging you with my own to put them inside of me. You pull them out and put them into my mouth. And suddenly the overwhelming need to feel you hits me and I reach for your cock – it’s still a stone, and I note the excitement escaping from the tip. This is one of my many weaknesses and I gasp and take you in again – that slightly salty, uncontainable, unhideable evidence of lust. You close your eyes and while I miss them, I relish seeing you in ecstasy. I move you to my pussy lips and gently rub you back and forth along me. The lips are swelled and begging for entry. Your eyes snap and suddenly you are above me, claiming my mouth and taking over the business. I laugh happily.
“You seem way too young to be popping the Cialis,” I chirp.
“You fucking know I’m not,” you laugh back.
“So this is just you in your natural glory?” I smile at you.
“It’s me around you,” you reply.
I kiss you and you threaten to enter me and thereby kill me with desire.
“I don’t know if I can take it,” I tell you, only half joking.
“You and me both,” you say.
At once, you plunge in with the perfect amount of gusto and I’m done. Suddenly I’m making sounds beyond my control that have been at least partially fake until this point. In another world above me I hear you vocally letting loose and my god, men need to do that more.
I lean back into the experience of being fucked. Feeling the motion and the friction of the in and out, the suction that my pussy has on you. I squeeze my muscles and you feel it and moan. My mouth takes yours again and I am bucking you into me desperately, never wanting the night to end. As I take over I hear a hitch in your breathing.
“You need to stop if you don’t want me to cum,” you gasp.
I slow to a halting pace, reluctantly. This has always been a draw for me – the joy of continuing sex or the joy of a man shooting hot cum into me, experiencing a life peak inside of my body. I decide I can wait another 5 minutes.
I switch to ride you. I fumble as I always do, getting started, and we laugh. Then you’re inside me and I’m struck, as I always am, by how different the experience is in another position. I enjoy the feeling of being two puzzle pieces that fit together.
I lean my head back, knowing that the angle is enhanced but also because it’s more fun that way. I glide up and down, alternating between greedy grinding and effortful bouncing. I look at you and you’re in that spellbound haze of lust again, lost looking at my breasts and the sight of my pussy lips gliding up and down your cock. But again, you’re also looking into my eyes. I lean down, breaking our connection and kissing you. You resume the lead and I love the comforting feeling of your solid weight on me.
“I can’t fucking wait to cum in you,” you breathe into my ear, and I shiver and the pulse in my pussy intensifies. Suddenly I’m remarkably close to cumming myself, just feeling how hard and swollen you are inside of me, ready to burst.
“Oh my fucking god baby I want you to give me that hot fucking cum,” I gasp.
You thrust and thrust forcefully and I’m matching your movements with my hips, desperate to feel every pulse. The bed rattles and I grip the headboard, loving life. And suddenly the moment comes, with a gradual lead up in your moans to make me cum right as I feel your hot semen pour into me and hear your moans. I’m gasping in pleasure and pushing you as deep into me as I can.
“I can feel your pussy throbbing”, you gasp, when you catch your breath. “I feel like I’m still cumming. You are so fucking hot.”
You lean over me, smiling and laughing, post-sex bliss setting in early. I smile and kiss you, done.
You pull out of me and god I miss you, but then there’s the saying about absence and fondness.
I grab a fresh towel that I placed nearby earlier and gently caress you clean. You smile and make “hmm”ing sounds as I trail kisses on your stomach.
“That was pretty fucking great,” I finally say to you.
You laugh and say, “It was amazing.”
I kiss you, you eventually go, and it’ll never happen again. Wink.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ix49bx/my_boyfriends_friend_mf_infidelity
I don’t usually enjoy stories where the reader is involved in the story, but I really liked this one. Good writing! ?
Great job! This was very well written. Thank you for sharing.