My Best Friend's Girlfriend

I’m Jake, twenty-eight, single as hell and not exactly proud of how often my hand has been my only company lately. My best friend Mike has been with Kayla for six months now, and every time the three of us grab drinks or crash on my couch for a movie, I catch myself staring at her like a starving man. She’s twenty-four, all long dark hair and that confident little smirk that says she knows exactly what she’s doing to a guy. Mike barely touches her anymore—she told me that herself, more than once, leaning in close while he was in the bathroom or grabbing another round. “He just rolls over and scrolls on his phone,” she whispered one night, her thigh pressed against mine under the table. “I need someone who actually wants to fuck me, Jake. Someone who looks at me the way you do when you think I’m not watching.”

That was the first time the air got thick enough to choke on. I laughed it off, mumbled something about Mike being tired from work, but my cock twitched hard in my jeans. She knew. The next time we hung out she wore this low-cut top that kept slipping, and when Mike went to take a call she reached over, brushed her fingers along my forearm, and said, “I’m so fucking horny all the time. It’s driving me crazy.” Her voice was soft, almost casual, but her eyes locked on mine and didn’t look away. I wanted to shove her against the wall right there, hike up her skirt, and show her what it felt like to be wanted. Instead I swallowed hard and changed the subject, because Mike is my boy and crossing that line felt like lighting a match in a room full of gasoline.

The tension just kept building. Every hangout turned into this slow torture. She’d sit close enough that her bare knee nudged mine, complain how Mike hadn’t gone down on her in weeks, how she woke up aching and wet with nowhere to put it. I’d nod, pretend to be the good friend offering advice, while my mind flooded with images of her on her knees, those full lips stretched around my cock, her perfect tits bouncing while I fucked her from behind. She caught me adjusting myself more than once and just smiled that wicked little smile, like she was keeping score.

Then Mike left town for a long weekend—some work conference three states away. He texted me to keep an eye on things, joke around about not letting Kayla get too lonely. I didn’t answer that part. Around ten that night my doorbell rang. I opened it and there she was, standing under the porch light in a tiny white sundress that barely covered the tops of her thighs. No bra—her nipples were already hard little points pushing against the thin fabric. Her hair was down, loose and a little messy, like she’d been running her hands through it.

“Hey,” she said, voice low. “Can I come in?”

I stepped aside. The second the door shut she turned to face me, close enough that I could smell her perfume mixed with something warmer, skin-level. “Mike’s gone till Monday,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about you every night this week. Fantasizing. Touching myself and pretending it’s your hands.”

My mouth went dry. “Kayla—”

“Don’t.” She closed the last inch between us, pressed her body flush against mine. Soft tits mashed to my chest, the heat of her pussy noticeable even through the dress and my sweats. “I know you want this too. I’ve seen the way you look at me. Tell me I’m wrong.”

I wasn’t wrong. My hands found her waist on their own, fingers digging into the thin cotton. “You’re not wrong,” I said, voice rough. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for months. Every time you talk about how he doesn’t touch you I want to bend you over and make you come until you forget his name.”

She made a soft, needy sound and rolled her hips, grinding that hot little cunt against the hard ridge of my cock. “Then do it. Please. I’ve been so empty.”

That was it. I crushed my mouth to hers. She opened for me immediately, tongue sliding against mine, tasting like mint and pure hunger. Her hands shoved up under my shirt, nails scraping my abs as I walked her backward toward the couch. The sundress was nothing—I yanked one strap down and her left breast spilled free, full and heavy, nipple tight and dark. I broke the kiss just long enough to latch onto it, sucking hard, teeth grazing while she arched and moaned my name.

“Fuck, Jake—yes—”

I spun her, bent her over the back of the couch, and flipped the tiny skirt up. No panties. Just smooth, bare pussy already glistening, lips puffy and parted. I groaned, dropped to my knees, and dragged my tongue straight up her slit. She tasted sweet and salty and perfect. I speared her with two fingers while I licked her clit, and she pushed back against my face like she was starving for it.

“I’ve wanted your cock so bad,” she gasped, looking over her shoulder, eyes glassy. “Every time we hung out I got wet thinking about you filling me up instead of him.”

I stood, shoved my sweats down, and freed my cock—thick, hard, already leaking. I rubbed the head up and down her wet folds, coating myself, teasing her entrance. She whined and tried to push back onto it.

“You sure?” I asked one last time, even though we both already knew.

“Yes. Fuck me. Make me yours tonight.”

I slammed home in one deep thrust. Her tight cunt stretched around me, hot and soaking, fluttering like it had been waiting forever. We both cursed. I gripped her hips and started pounding, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room. Her tits swung free with every thrust; I reached around and pinched her nipples hard, making her cry out and clench harder around my cock.

Clothes kept coming off in frantic pieces. I stripped the sundress the rest of the way off so she was completely naked, bent over my couch, taking every inch. I pulled out just long enough to spin her around, lift her, and carry her to my bed. She wrapped her legs around me, heels digging into my ass, and we fell onto the mattress still joined. I fucked her harder, deeper, the headboard knocking the wall while she raked her nails down my back and begged for more.

“Harder—use me—I’ve needed this so fucking bad—”

I flipped her onto all fours again, grabbed a handful of that dark hair, and railed her from behind until her arms gave out and she was face-down, ass up, moaning into the sheets. Sweat slicked both of us. Her pussy made filthy wet sounds every time I bottomed out. I reached under and rubbed her clit in tight circles and she came hard, shaking, squirting a little around my cock, the contractions milking me so good I had to grit my teeth not to finish right then.

But I wasn’t done. I pulled out, flipped her onto her back, shoved her knees to her chest, and sank back in. Face to face now. She pulled me down into another hungry kiss, tongues messy, both of us panting.

“I’m going to ruin you for him,” I growled against her mouth.

“Do it. Please—wreck me—”

I kept thrusting, deep and relentless, watching her tits bounce, watching her eyes roll back every time I hit that spot inside her. The bed creaked. Her legs trembled. Another orgasm built in her—I could feel it in the way her walls started fluttering again—and I chased it with her, slamming home over and over.

We were both completely naked now, nothing left between us but sweat and need. Her hand slid between us so she could feel where I stretched her open; she moaned at the sight of my thick cock disappearing into her again and again.

I slowed just enough to make her whimper, grinding deep, letting her feel every ridge. “This cunt is mine tonight,” I told her. “Say it.”

“Yours—fuck—it’s yours, Jake—”

I picked the pace back up, chasing the edge that was racing up my spine. She came a second time with a broken cry, gushing around me, and I barely pulled out in time, stroking my cock and painting thick ropes of cum across her stomach and tits. She watched, eyes dark with lust, then dragged a finger through the mess and brought it to her lips, tasting me while she looked up at me like she already wanted round two.

We lay there breathing hard, sticky and tangled. My cock was still half-hard against her thigh. She turned her head on the pillow, lips swollen from kissing, and whispered, “We’re not done. I need more of you before he gets back.”

I kissed her again, slower this time but no less hungry, hand already sliding back between her legs to feel how soaked and open she still was. The night was young, Mike was hundreds of miles away, and neither of us had any intention of stopping.

We stayed tangled in the sheets only long enough for my fingers to work another shiver out of her. Kayla’s hips rolled against my hand, greedy even after everything we’d already done, and when she whispered “couch” against my mouth I didn’t ask why. I just scooped her up, sticky and bare, and carried her back out to the living room like the night still belonged completely to us.

I dropped onto the cushions and pulled her straight into my lap. She straddled me without hesitation, knees sinking into the worn fabric on either side of my hips, and reached down to wrap her fingers around my cock. I was hard again already—thick, heavy, smeared with the mess we’d made earlier. She guided the head between her folds, teasing herself with it, then sank down in one long, slow glide that stole the air from both of us.

“Fuck, you’re still so deep,” she breathed, settling until her ass rested on my thighs and every inch of me was buried inside her. Her hands braced on my shoulders. She started to ride.

It wasn’t gentle. Kayla lifted almost all the way off and dropped hard, grinding in tight circles every time she bottomed out. Her tits bounced right in front of my face—full, flushed, nipples still dark and tight from earlier. I leaned in and sucked one into my mouth, tongue lashing the peak while she moaned and fucked herself down onto me harder. The wet heat of her cunt dragged up and down my shaft, greedy little flutters squeezing me every time she ground her clit against the base.

“That’s it—use me,” I growled around her nipple, biting just enough to make her gasp. My hands locked on her waist, helping her slam down. The couch creaked under us. Her dark hair stuck to the sweat on her neck and back as she rode me like she’d been starving for exactly this. I switched to the other breast, sucking hard, feeling her walls clench every time my teeth scraped. She was dripping down my balls, making filthy slick sounds with every grind.

“Jake—God—your mouth—” She arched, shoving her tit deeper into my face, hips never stopping. I could feel how close she already was, the way her rhythm turned frantic and messy. I kept sucking, kept letting her take what she needed, watching her face twist with pure filthy pleasure while she used my cock.

When her thighs started to shake I flipped us. I lifted her off me just long enough to spin her around and bend her over the armrest. Her chest pressed into the cushions, ass high, that perfect pussy swollen and shiny and open for me. I stepped in behind her, lined up, and thrust home in one brutal stroke that made her cry out.

I pounded her hard from the start—deep, punishing strokes that slapped my hips against her ass. One hand tangled in her hair, the other cracked across her cheek hard enough to leave a pink print. She moaned louder, pushing back to meet every thrust.

“More—spank me harder—don’t stop—”

I gave her exactly that. Palm cracking against her ass again and again while I fucked her through the armrest, watching the flesh jiggle and redden under my hand. Her cunt gripped me like a fist every time I bottomed out. Sweat ran down the valley of her spine. She clawed at the cushions and begged filthy things—how good I filled her, how Mike never fucked her like this, how she wanted me to wreck her pussy until she couldn’t walk straight tomorrow. I spanked her in rhythm with my thrusts, the sharp sounds mixing with the wet slap of skin and her broken moans.

“This what you needed?” I grunted, slamming deep. “My cock stretching you open while I mark this ass?”

“Yes—fuck yes—harder, Jake—”

I gave it to her until her legs trembled and she was dripping down her thighs. Then she twisted, breathless, and slid off my cock only to drop straight to her knees on the living-room floor. Her hands found my hips. She looked up at me with glazed, hungry eyes and swallowed me to the root in one smooth motion.

Hot wet suction. Her tongue worked the underside while she bobbed, taking me deep enough that her throat fluttered around the head. Spit ran down my shaft. She moaned around me like sucking my cock was the only thing she’d wanted all night. I fisted her hair and fucked her mouth in short strokes, watching those full lips stretch around me, watching her eyes water and stay locked on mine. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked harder, one hand reaching between her own legs to rub her clit while she worked me.

I almost came right there. Instead I hauled her up by the arms, spun her, and pinned her back against the wall hard enough to knock a picture crooked. I hooked one of her thighs up over my hip, lined up, and thrust into her standing in one smooth drive that made us both shout.

She locked her other leg around me. I braced a forearm beside her head and fucked her against the wall—deep, relentless strokes that lifted her onto her toes every time I bottomed out. Her tits smashed against my chest. Nails raked my back. The wet heat of her cunt squeezed and fluttered around me as I pounded up into her, chasing the orgasm that was already coiling tight at the base of my spine.

“Come with me,” I growled against her ear. “I want to feel this pussy milking me when I fill you.”

“I’m so close—Jake—don’t stop—”

I didn’t. I fucked her harder, angling so every thrust dragged across the spot that made her eyes roll. Her walls clamped down in rhythmic pulses. She came first with a broken wail, gushing around my cock, shaking so hard I had to pin her tighter to the wall to keep her upright. The contractions pulled me over right with her. I buried myself to the hilt and unloaded deep—hot, thick pulses flooding her while she clenched and moaned and held on like she never wanted me to pull out.

We stayed locked together against the wall, panting, sweat-slick and trembling. My cock twitched inside her as the last aftershocks rolled through. Kayla’s forehead dropped to my shoulder. Her breath was hot against my neck.

“Still not enough,” she whispered, voice raw. “I can still feel him out there somewhere. I need you to fuck every last thought of him out of me before Monday.”

I was still buried inside her, still half-hard, already thickening again at the words. My hand slid down to grip her ass and keep her impaled on me. Outside, a car passed on the street. The clock on the wall ticked past midnight. Mike was still hundreds of miles away, and Kayla’s pussy was still dripping my cum down both our thighs, and neither of us had any intention of letting the night end here.

I kept her pinned to the wall, cock still buried to the hilt, feeling my cum start to leak out around the seal of her stretched cunt. Kayla’s legs stayed locked around me, heels digging into the small of my back like she was afraid I’d pull out. I didn’t. I rolled my hips slow at first, grinding deep so the head of my cock dragged over that swollen spot inside her, smearing my own load deeper while fresh heat flooded around me.

“Still need more?” I muttered against her ear, voice rough from fucking her throat earlier. “Still thinking about him?”

“Not if you keep doing that,” she breathed, nails raking down my shoulders. “Fuck him out of me, Jake. Use this pussy until it’s shaped like your cock.”

I carried her like that—still impaled—across the living room and dropped us onto the rug. The second her back hit the floor I was driving into her again, knees braced wide, hips snapping hard enough that her tits bounced violently under me. Every thrust forced another wet squelch out of her, my cum and her juices frothing around the base of my shaft and dripping down her ass crack onto the carpet. She hooked her ankles behind my neck, opening herself wider, and I folded her nearly in half so I could watch my thick cock disappear into that greedy hole over and over.

“Look at this messy cunt,” I growled, pulling almost all the way out so she could see the shiny stretch of her lips clinging to me before I slammed home again. “Stuffed full of my cum and still begging for more. Mike never wrecked you like this, did he?”

“Never—fuck—never even close,” she sobbed, eyes glassy. One hand flew between us so she could rub her clit in frantic circles while I pounded her. “Your cock is so much thicker… stretches me so fucking good… I’m gonna come again—”

I felt it hit her mid-sentence. Her walls clamped down in hard, rhythmic pulses, milking fresh spurts of cum out of me even though I wasn’t finished yet. She squirted a little, hot splash against my abs, and the sight of it only made me fuck her harder, chasing my own second load while she writhed and babbled under me.

When the aftershocks faded I pulled out, flipped her onto her stomach, and yanked her hips up until she was face-down, ass high, knees spread wide on the rug. My cock—slick and angry-red—slid straight back into her dripping cunt from behind. I grabbed both her wrists, pinned them to the small of her back, and used them like handles while I railed her. The angle let me bottom out with every stroke, balls slapping her clit, the wet filthy soundtrack of our bodies filling the quiet house.

“Tell me who owns this pussy tonight,” I demanded, spanking one cheek hard enough to leave a fresh handprint over the earlier ones.

“You—Jake—your cock owns it—” She pushed back to meet every thrust, ass rippling. “Ruin me so I feel you every time he touches me—”

I leaned over her, chest to her sweaty back, and reached around to pinch and twist her nipples while I kept slamming deep. She came again with a broken scream into the rug, body locking up, cunt squeezing so tight I had to fight to keep thrusting through the contractions. I didn’t stop. I fucked her straight through it until she was a trembling, moaning mess, drool on the carpet, dark hair stuck to her face.

Only then did I ease up, pull out, and roll her onto her back again. I straddled her chest, stroked my cock—glistening with her juices—and painted another thick load across her tits and collarbones, watching the ropes land and drip between her breasts. She moaned at the heat of it, scooped some onto two fingers, and pushed them into her mouth, sucking them clean while she stared up at me.

“More,” she whispered after she swallowed. “I want you in my ass this time. Fill every hole before he comes home.”

I didn’t need telling twice. I flipped her back onto all fours, spat on her tight little asshole, and rubbed the head of my cock there until she was pushing back for it. Slow at first—just the tip stretching that ring—then inch by inch until my entire length was buried in her ass. She cursed and clawed at the rug, but her free hand never stopped rubbing her clit.

“Fuck yes… stretch my ass… make it yours too—”

I gave her long, deep strokes, watching her hole cling to my shaft every time I withdrew. When she started rocking back harder I picked up the pace, fucking her ass the same way I’d fucked her cunt—relentless, claiming, until she came again with my cock buried in her guts and her own fingers buried in her pussy. The way she clenched around me dragged my third orgasm out of me; I unloaded deep in her ass, pulsing load after load until it leaked out around my cock when I finally pulled free.

We collapsed onto the rug in a sweaty, cum-smeared heap. My cock twitched against her thigh, still half-hard, sticky with everything we’d done. I wasn’t done looking at her—tits marked with drying streaks, pussy and ass both leaking my cum, thighs shiny, lips swollen. She looked thoroughly used and still hungry for more.

Eventually I hauled us both up and half-carried her back to the couch. I sank down first and she climbed into my lap, straddling me one last time. She sank onto my cock slowly—cunt first this time, still loose and flooded—and rode me in lazy, filthy circles while we both caught our breath. Her hands braced on my chest. My hands stayed locked on her ass, spreading the cheeks so I could feel my earlier load drip out of her hole onto my balls.

“You’re going to text me the second he’s gone again,” I said, voice low. “I don’t care if it’s for an hour or a weekend. You’re coming straight here so I can fill every one of these holes again.”

“I will,” she promised, grinding down harder. “I already know I won’t be able to stop thinking about this cock.”

She rode me until we both came one final time—quieter, deeper, her forehead pressed to mine while her cunt fluttered and milked every last drop. Only after that did the urgency finally bleed out of us.

Kayla curled against my chest right there on the couch, naked body sticky and warm over mine. She kissed me softly—slow, lingering, nothing like the frantic mouths we’d been using all night—and whispered against my lips, “This is just the beginning of our secret affair.” Her smile was pure satisfied mischief when she finally slid off my lap. She found her discarded sundress, slipped it on without bothering to clean up, and kissed me once more at the door.

“I’ll text you the next time Mike is away,” she said, voice low and full of filthy promise. Then she was gone, leaving me alone in the quiet house with the smell of sex thick in the air, my cock already twitching back to life against my thigh, aching and sticky and ready to ruin her best-friend’s-girlfriend cunt all over again the second she walks back through that door.