I Fucked My Best Friend's Husband Last Night

I've known Sarah since we were kids, inseparable through high school heartbreaks, college parties, and now our mid-twenties grind in the city. She's the bubbly one, always dragging me to brunches and yoga classes, while I'm the quieter type, nursing crushes in silence. Her husband, Jake, though—that man's been my dirty little secret for years. Tall, broad-shouldered, with that chiseled jaw and eyes that smolder like he's undressing you mid-conversation. Sarah landed him right out of college, and I've smiled through every wedding toast, every holiday dinner, pretending my pussy didn't clench every time he brushed past me.

It started innocently enough. A backyard barbecue at their place last summer. Sarah got tipsy on rosé, giggling as she flirted with the neighbor, leaving Jake and me alone by the grill. He flipped burgers with those strong hands, veins bulging on his forearms, and cracked a joke about how Sarah's cooking skills were why he married her—pure tolerance. I laughed too hard, my thigh pressing against his as I reached for a beer. His gaze lingered on my sundress, the way it hugged my tits, and I swear I felt his cock twitch against my leg. Nothing happened then, but that night, alone in my apartment, I fingered myself raw imagining him bending me over that picnic table, pounding me while Sarah napped inside.

Since then, it's been torture. Every girls' night at their house, I'd catch him staring—when Sarah was in the kitchen, when she bent over to grab snacks, even when she was right there on the couch, oblivious. I'd cross my legs to hide how wet I got, fantasizing about dropping to my knees and sucking him off under the coffee table. Jake knew. The way he'd adjust his jeans when our eyes met, the smirks he'd flash when Sarah wasn't looking. Tension built like a storm, electric and inevitable.

Last night, it finally broke. Sarah texted me mid-afternoon: Emergency girls' night? Work sucked, need wine and venting. Come over at 8? Jake's making tacos. My heart raced. I showered extra long, shaving every inch smooth, lathering my skin in that vanilla-scented lotion I knew men went crazy for. I picked a tight black tank top that showed off my perky C-cups—no bra, nipples poking through just enough to tease—and yoga shorts that rode up my ass cheeks. No panties. If tonight was the night, I wanted to be ready.

I showed up at 8:05, wine bottle in hand, nerves buzzing like I'd chugged three espressos. Sarah flung the door open, already in sweats, mascara smudged from a cry-fest over her asshole boss. "Em! Save me!" she wailed, hugging me tight before dragging me to the living room. Jake was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, chopping onions with that focused intensity that made my clit throb. "Hey, Em," he said, voice low and gravelly, eyes raking over my body like he was starving. Sarah didn't notice, chattering about deadlines as she poured wine.

We settled on the couch—me in the middle, Sarah on my left, Jake across from us in the armchair. Tacos came out, loaded with guac and spicy beef, and the wine flowed. Sarah vented for an hour straight, ranting about her job, her period cramps, everything. By glass three, she was slurring, head lolling on my shoulder. "You guys are the best," she mumbled, eyes heavy. Jake shot me a look over her head—pure heat, promising filthy things.

Around 10:30, Sarah yawned massively. "Fuck, I'm beat. That second bottle killed me." She stood, wobbling, and pecked Jake on the cheek. "Don't stay up too late, babe. Em, crash if you want—the guest room's made up." Then she shuffled off to their bedroom, door clicking shut. The house went silent, save for the hum of the fridge.

Jake and I stared at each other across the coffee table. Empty plates, half-drunk wine glasses. My pulse hammered between my legs. "She'll be out cold," he said finally, voice thick. "You staying?"

I nodded, throat dry. "Yeah. Unless... you want me to go."

He stood, towering over me, and extended a hand. "Come here."

I took it, letting him pull me up. His grip was firm, callused fingers wrapping around mine like he owned me. We didn't speak—just moved, silent as thieves, down the hall past Sarah's closed door to the guest room. He shut it softly, locked it, and turned to me with eyes dark as sin.

"Fuck, Em," he growled, backing me against the wall. "I've wanted to bury my cock in you since the day we met."

His mouth crashed into mine, rough and demanding, tongue shoving past my lips to claim every inch. I moaned into him, hands fisting his shirt, grinding my aching pussy against his thigh. He tasted like beer and spice, stubble scraping my chin as he devoured me. One hand yanked my tank top up, freeing my tits, and he groaned, palming them hard, thumbs flicking my rock-hard nipples.

"These tits have been teasing me for years," he muttered, breaking the kiss to suck one into his mouth. His teeth grazed the peak, tongue swirling filthy circles, while his other hand dove between my legs. "No panties? You dirty little slut. Knew you'd show up ready to fuck."

"Yes," I gasped, hips bucking as his fingers found my slick folds. "God, Jake, touch me. I've dreamed of your cock stretching me out."

He chuckled darkly, shoving two thick fingers inside me without warning. I cried out, walls clenching around the invasion, so wet they slid in knuckle-deep. He pumped them slow at first, curling to hit my G-spot, thumb grinding my swollen clit. "This cunt's dripping for me. Sarah's snoring next door, and here you are, creaming on her husband's fingers like a whore."

"Fuck yes," I whimpered, riding his hand shamelessly. My juices coated his palm, obscene squelching filling the room. He added a third finger, stretching me wider, prepping me for what was coming. My orgasm built fast, thighs trembling, but he pulled out abruptly, smirking at my whine.

"Not yet, baby. I want to taste that pussy first." He dropped to his knees, yanking my shorts down in one tug, exposing my bare, glistening slit. I spread my legs wide, bracing against the wall as he dove in. His tongue was a weapon—flat and broad, lapping from my asshole to my clit in long, greedy strokes. "Mmm, sweeter than Sarah's ever been. You taste like you need to be fucked raw."

He sucked my clit between his lips, flicking it mercilessly while two fingers plunged back in, fucking me deep and fast. I threaded my hands in his hair, grinding my cunt on his face, muffling my screams against my arm. "Eat me, Jake. Make me cum on your tongue—oh fuck, right there!"

He growled into my folds, vibration sending me over. My orgasm hit like a freight train, pussy spasming, gushing all over his mouth. He drank it down, lapping every drop, not stopping until I was a shaking mess.

Panting, I sank to the floor with him, attacking his belt. "My turn. I want that fat cock down my throat." His jeans hit the carpet, boxers next, and holy shit—his dick sprang free, thick as my wrist, veined and throbbing, pre-cum beading at the tip. Nine inches easy, curving up perfectly to hit my depths. I wrapped both hands around it, stroking the velvety shaft while licking the salty bead off.

"Jesus, Em," he hissed, hips jerking. "Suck it. Show me how bad you've wanted this."

I did, opening wide and taking the head past my lips, tongue swirling the ridge. He was too big—my jaw ached as I bobbed, taking more inch by inch, gagging when he hit the back of my throat. Spit drooled down his balls, and I fondled them, heavy and full, while hollowing my cheeks for suction. "That's it, gag on it, you cheating little cocksucker," he grunted, hands fisting my hair, fucking my face slow and deep. "Sarah'd die if she saw her best friend slurping her husband's dick like a pornstar."

The dirty talk made me feral. I deepthroated him as best I could, nose brushing his pubes, tears streaming, until he yanked me off with a pop. "Enough. Need to fuck that tight cunt now."

He shoved me onto the bed face-down, ass up, knees spread wide. The guest room mirror across from us caught it all—my tits smashed into the sheets, pussy lips puffy and parted, Jake kneeling behind me stroking his monster cock. He rubbed the head along my slit, coating himself in my arousal. "Beg for it, Em. Beg me to cheat on my wife with her slutty best friend."

"Please, Jake," I moaned, pushing back. "Fuck me. Stretch this pussy with your married cock. Ruin me for anyone else."

He slammed in with one brutal thrust, bottoming out balls-deep. I screamed into the pillow, the burn exquisite—fuller than I'd ever been, his girth splitting me open. "Fuuuck, so tight," he groaned, gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. "This hole was made for my dick."

He didn't hold back, pounding me like a man possessed, skin slapping skin, bed creaking under us. Each thrust dragged over my G-spot, cockhead kissing my cervix. I reached under, rubbing my clit frantically, chasing another high. "Harder! Fuck me like you own me—make me your whore!"

Jake leaned over, chest to my back, one hand clamping my mouth while the other pinched my nipple. "Quiet, slut. Don't wake her up while I breed her best friend's cunt." His hips snapped faster, relentless, balls smacking my clit. Sweat dripped from him onto my ass, the room reeking of sex—musk and pussy juice.

I came again first, vision whiting out, walls milking him in rhythmic pulses. "That's it, cream on my cock," he snarled, not slowing. He flipped me onto my back, hooking my legs over his shoulders, folding me in half. Face to face now, he drove back in deeper, our eyes locked. "Look at me while I fuck you. Know whose dick's owning this pussy."

"Yours," I gasped, nails raking his back. "Cum inside me, Jake. Fill me up—mark me as yours."

His pace turned savage, grunts animalistic, thrusts erratic. "Gonna flood this cheating cunt. Take it all—fuck!"

He exploded with a roar muffled against my neck, hot ropes of cum painting my insides, pulsing deep. I shattered around him, third orgasm ripping through me, our juices mixing in a filthy mess.

We collapsed, still joined, his weight pinning me deliciously. He kissed me slow, lazy, cock softening inside but not pulling out. "That was..." he murmured, hand stroking my sweat-slick tit.

I smiled, afterglow buzzing, pussy full of his load, wondering if Sarah would taste him on me tomorrow.