Crossed Desires: Best Friend’s Wife Begs for Anal

Cody had always known the guest suite in Franklin’s place was overkill—king bed, marble bath, floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the lighted pool—but tonight the luxury felt like a private stage. Franklin was three time zones away on a week-long contract, and the house belonged, for all practical purposes, to the two of them. Noelle moved through the open kitchen in a silk robe that kept slipping off one shoulder, bare legs flashing with every step. At twenty-six she still looked carved from dirty fantasies: high, full tits, a narrow waist that flared into an ass Cody had jacked off to more times than he would ever admit. They had traded filthy jokes for years—how she would bounce on his cock if Franklin ever left the room, how Cody would stretch her until she cried. It had always stopped at words. Tonight the words were sharper, soaked in red wine and something hungrier.

She poured two more glasses, leaned against the island, and let the robe gape open just enough to show the inner curves of her breasts. “Franklin’s a good husband,” she said, voice low, almost conversational. “Eats my pussy like it’s his job, fucks me hard when I ask. But he draws a hard line at my ass. Says it’s dirty. Says he doesn’t want to hurt me.” She took a slow sip, eyes locked on Cody’s. “I want to be hurt, Cody. I want my ass wrecked. Stretched. Owned. I’ve been fingering it in the shower thinking about your thick trainer cock splitting me open while he’s gone. I’m not asking you to be gentle. I’m begging you to use me the way he won’t.”

Cody’s blood went hot and thick. He set his glass down harder than he meant to. “You’re serious.”

“Dead serious.” Noelle’s tongue flicked across her lower lip. “I want you to spit on my hole, force that fat head in, and keep pushing until I’m screaming and coming with your balls slapped against my cunt. I want you to treat my ass like it belongs to you for the next six days. Stretch it, bruise it, fill it. Make me walk funny when Franklin gets home so I can feel you every time I sit down.”

He crossed the space between them in two strides. His hands found her hips, rough, possessive. “You understand once I start I won’t stop just because you get loud.”

“I’m counting on it.” She dropped to her knees right there on the cool tile, robe pooling around her thighs. Her fingers worked his shorts open with practiced urgency. Cody’s cock sprang free, already heavy and veined, the head shiny with precum. Noelle made a broken little sound of pure hunger and swallowed him to the root in one wet slide. The sudden heat of her throat made his knees lock. She pulled off just long enough to spit a thick string of saliva down his shaft, then went back to slobbering, cheeks hollowed, spit running down her chin and dripping onto her bare tits.

“Fuck, look at this cock,” she gasped between strokes, stroking him with both hands while her tongue lashed the underside. “I want every inch of this wrecking ball buried in my tight little asshole. I want you to pry me open and fuck me like you hate how much I need it. I want you to hold me down on that island and rail my guts until I’m nothing but a leaking, open hole. Mark—Franklin—won’t even rim me. I need your tongue first, Cody. I need you to tongue-fuck my dirty asshole until I’m dripping down my thighs and begging for the real thing.”