A few years after we finished University, I stayed with my friend Vicky for a weekend and we went out and had a girls night out, just like we used to in Uni. We got drunk, hit the town, danced, met a couple of guys, brought them home and fucked them. The problem was, unlike Uni, at this point, Vicky was engaged to Rob. She was distraught that she had cheated on and agonised over if she should tell him. I soothed her, told her I would keep her secret if she wanted and to take a few days to think about it. A few days later, Vicky had a “brilliant plan” and rang me up to tell me: I could do her a favour and have sex with Rob, and then she’d know he’d cheated on her and wouldn’t feel so bad.
I thought it was the stupidest idea I’d ever heard, but Vicky was persistent, she seemed sure that was what she wanted, and I had to admit Rob was hot. He was about six foot, in great shape (regular long-distance runner. Not too muscular, but lovely toned abs I had seen for myself on the beach on holiday), a nice cheeky smile and well-groomed stubble. I had to admit to myself I was turned on by the prospect. I told Vicky I’d do it.