My Best Friend's Wife Begs Me to Fuck Her

The tension hit me the second Hana opened the door. I stood on the porch with a bottle of red wine in my hand, trying to pretend this was just dinner with my best friend’s wife while he was out of town. But it wasn’t. It never had been. Not since the day Rafael brought her home six years ago and her eyes had dragged down my chest like she was measuring every inch of me for her own private use.

At thirty-two I’d built a solid life as a contractor—my own company, crews that actually listened, money in the bank. Rafael and I had been tight since freshman year, the kind of friendship that survives bad breakups and worse hangovers. Yet every time I was around his wife, the air got thick enough to choke on. Hana was twenty-nine, a sharp, velvet-tongued real estate agent who closed million-dollar deals in pencil skirts that made men forget their own names. Tonight she wasn’t wearing a pencil skirt. She wore a soft, clingy crimson dress that looked like it had been poured over her body and then heated until it melted into every curve.

“Dante,” she said, voice already lower than it needed to be. She stepped in for a hug and I felt the weight of her full tits press against me, nipples already tight. Her hips tilted forward just enough that the heat of her pelvis brushed the front of my jeans. “I’m glad you came. The house feels too big when he’s gone.”

I followed her inside, eyes locked on the sway of her ass. The dress barely covered the bottom curve of it. One wrong bend and I’d see everything. My cock thickened against my thigh at the thought.

Dinner was torture. She’d made steak and roasted vegetables, opened the wine I brought, and kept refilling my glass without ever letting either of us get sloppy. We talked about safe things—my latest build downtown, the nightmare clients she’d had that week—but her bare foot kept sliding up the inside of my calf under the table. Every time our eyes met, the years of carefully ignored heat flared hotter.

Halfway through the meal she set her fork down and looked straight at me, cheeks flushed, lips wet from the wine.

“I’m not going to dance around it anymore,” she said. “I’ve been fantasizing about you for months, Dante. Every time Rafael leaves on these trips I touch myself thinking about your cock. I want you to fuck me raw while he’s gone. I want you to ruin this married pussy and I want to feel every drop of your cum leaking out of me afterward.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. The dirty words coming out of my best friend’s wife’s mouth should have sent me running. Instead my dick surged to full, painful hardness. I could see her nipples straining against the thin dress, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. The air between us crackled like a live wire.

“Hana… Jesus Christ.”

“I’m serious,” she whispered. “I’m done pretending I don’t get wet every time you walk into a room. Done pretending I don’t finger myself in the shower thinking about you bending me over the kitchen island while my husband is three states away. I need it. I need you.”

I should have left. I didn’t.

After we cleared the plates the kitchen felt smaller, hotter. She brushed past me to load the dishwasher, letting her ass drag across the front of my jeans. I hissed. She turned, backed me against the counter with both hands on my chest, and pressed her whole body into me. Her tits flattened against my sternum. I could feel how hard her nipples were.

“I’ve been soaked for days,” she breathed against my throat, lips brushing my skin with every word. “My panties have been useless. I stopped wearing any tonight because I knew if I got within ten feet of you I’d ruin them anyway. Feel.”

She grabbed my wrist and shoved my hand under the hem of her dress. My fingers met smooth, drenched flesh—no panties, just slippery, swollen pussy lips and a clit so hard it throbbed against my fingertips. She was scalding. A thick strand of her arousal stretched between her thighs when I pulled my hand back.

“Fuck, Hana.”

She dropped to her knees right there on the tile, dress riding up, eyes wide and glassy with pure filthy need. The sight of my best friend’s wife on her knees begging was almost too much.

“Please, Dante. Use me. Use this married cunt. I want you to fuck your best friend’s wife raw. I want you to stretch me open and pump me full until I can’t walk straight. I’ll be your dirty little secret. Just please—please—give it to me.”

Her hands were already working my belt, trembling with urgency. I grabbed her wrists, trying to cling to the last thread of loyalty I had left.

“Rafael would never forgive either of us.”

That thread snapped the second she yanked the straps of her dress down. Her heavy tits spilled free—round, firm, dark nipples tight and begging. She cupped them, lifted them toward me like an offering, thumbs flicking the sensitive peaks.

“Rafael hasn’t made me come properly in over a year,” she said, voice cracking with raw honesty and desperation. “He lasts two minutes, rolls off, and falls asleep. I haven’t had a real orgasm from dick in so long I’ve forgotten what it feels like. I need this. I need you to wreck me. I’m begging you, Dante. Betray him with me. Right now. I’m so fucking wet for you it hurts.”

The guilt detonated inside my chest and burned away into something darker, hungrier. My hands fisted in her thick hair. My cock strained so hard against my open fly I thought the zipper teeth would leave marks.

“Get up,” I growled.

She rose, tits still out, dress bunched around her waist. I grabbed her by the hips, spun her, and lifted her onto the kitchen island in one motion. Her legs spread wide automatically, heels hooking behind my back. Her soaked pussy glistened under the overhead lights, lips puffy and open, clit visibly pulsing. I could smell how turned on she was—sweet, musky, feminine.

We stared at each other, breathing hard. My cock rested against her inner thigh, leaking pre-cum onto her smooth skin. One thrust and I’d be buried to the balls inside my best friend’s wife with nothing between us.

“I’m going to fuck you raw, Hana,” I said, voice rough. “I’m going to ruin this married pussy tonight. But once I start, I’m not pulling out until I’ve emptied every drop inside you. You understand that?”

Her eyes rolled back at the words. She reached between us, wrapped her small hand around my thick shaft, and notched the fat head against her dripping entrance.

“Then do it,” she moaned, dragging the crown through her slick folds. “Betray him. Cheat with me. I need your cum so deep I taste it.”

My hips flexed. The head of my cock pushed inside her, stretching her tight ring of muscle. She cried out, nails digging into my shoulders, pussy fluttering wildly around just the first two inches.

We were seconds from total surrender. The point of no return was already behind us, and the night still stretched out long and filthy ahead. I could feel her walls trying to suck me deeper, her tits heaving against my chest, her wedding ring glinting on the hand that was currently stroking the base of my cock like she owned it.

I groaned her name like a curse and a prayer at the same time, fighting the animal urge to slam home in one brutal stroke. Because the second I did, there would be no going back—for either of us.

And we both knew we were only getting started.

I slammed into her anyway.

Hana’s cry shattered the kitchen as I drove every thick inch of my cock into her married cunt in one ruthless stroke. Her walls clamped down like a velvet fist, scalding and soaked, rippling around my girth in panicked, greedy spasms. She was tighter than any woman had a right to be after six years of marriage, and the way her pussy fluttered told me Rafael had never come close to filling her like this.

“Fuck—Dante—you’re so much bigger,” she gasped, the words breaking into a moan as I pulled back and slammed in again, bending her forward over the kitchen island until her heavy tits squashed against the cold granite. Her crimson dress was a ruined belt around her waist now, ass bare and jiggling with every brutal thrust. “He’s never… oh god, he’s never stretched me like this. Your cock is splitting my married pussy in half.”

I gripped her hips hard enough to bruise and fucked her harder, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing off the cabinets. Her arousal drenched my balls, dripping down her thighs in shiny rivulets. Every time I bottomed out, her ring of muscle kissed the base of my shaft like it was trying to suck me deeper. I watched her ass ripple, watched the way her tight little hole stretched obscenely around me, and felt the last scraps of loyalty to Rafael burn away in pure animal heat.

“You begged for this,” I growled, reaching forward to fist her hair and yank her head back so I could see her profile. Her mouth hung open, eyes half-lidded in slutty bliss. “You begged your husband’s best friend to ruin this cheating cunt. Feel how deep I am? That’s my cock owning what’s supposed to be his.”

“Yes—yes—bigger, thicker, fuck, I’m going to come already,” she wailed. Her fingers scrabbled at the counter edge as her pussy began to pulse wildly. I didn’t slow down. I pounded her through it, hips snapping so hard the island creaked. When she came, it was with a broken scream that bounced around the empty house, her walls milking me in long, rhythmic squeezes that nearly dragged my own orgasm out too soon.

I wasn’t finished. Not even close.

Pulling out with a wet pop, I spun her around, lifted her like she weighed nothing, and carried her the few steps to the dining table. Wine glasses rattled as I swept them aside and laid her on her back. The dark wood gleamed under her flushed skin. I shoved her legs wide, pinning her knees almost to her shoulders, folding her in half so her dripping pussy pointed straight up at me—open, red, and begging.

“Look at you,” I said, sliding back inside her in one slick thrust. The new angle let me grind against her cervix with every stroke. “Spread like a whore on the table your husband eats dinner at.”

Hana’s nails raked down my back hard enough to draw lines of fire. She clawed at me like she was drowning, hips bucking up to meet every savage plunge. Her full tits bounced wildly between us, nipples tight and dark. Sweat slicked both our bodies. The wet squelch of my cock destroying her married hole filled the room, obscene and perfect.

“Deeper, Dante—please—fuck me deeper than he ever could,” she begged, voice hoarse. Her eyes were wild, pupils blown. “I need it. I need you to wreck me. Cum inside me—fill this pussy up. I want to feel you leaking out of me for days.”

I pinned her legs wider, hips hammering, the table jolting with every thrust. Her cunt was a hot, silky vice that seemed to get wetter the rougher I got. I could feel her second orgasm building, her walls starting to flutter again, her breath coming in desperate little sobs. The guilt was gone now—there was only the filthy thrill of claiming my best friend’s wife in his own house, turning her into my personal cum-dump right where he should have been satisfying her.

She came again with a guttural cry, back arching clean off the table, pussy gushing around my cock. I rode her through it, slowing just enough to feel every contraction, then pulled out despite her whimper of protest.

“Couch. Now.”

I dragged her on shaky legs to the living room and dropped onto the big sectional. My cock stood straight up, glistening with her cream, veins throbbing. Hana didn’t hesitate. She climbed over me in reverse, facing away, that perfect ass hovering above my lap. Reaching back, she spread herself open with both hands, showing me the wrecked, puffy state of her pussy, and sank down.

The sight of my thick shaft disappearing between her cheeks—stretching her wide again—made my balls draw up tight. She took every inch in one desperate drop, moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear if they’d been home. Then she started riding like a woman possessed, slamming her ass down onto me over and over, reverse cowgirl, chasing the next high.

“Harder,” I snarled, bringing my palm down on her right cheek with a sharp crack. The flesh rippled, a red handprint blooming instantly. “Ride that dick, you cheating slut. This married pussy belongs to my cock now. Rafael doesn’t get to touch it anymore—understand?”

“Yes—fuck—yes, it’s yours,” she panted, bouncing faster, the wet sounds filthy and loud. Her ass clapped against my thighs with every descent, her tight ring winking above my shaft as she worked me. I slapped the other cheek, then again, alternating until both globes glowed red and she was sobbing with pleasure. She leaned forward, hands braced on my knees, and fucked herself on me with reckless, sloppy need, grinding her clit against my base on every downstroke.

I could feel my orgasm roaring up, unstoppable now. Her pussy was rippling again, close to another peak, and the sight of my best friend’s wife impaled on me, wedding ring flashing as she braced herself, pushed me over the edge.

“Take it—all of it,” I growled, gripping her hips and yanking her down hard as I erupted.

The first thick rope of cum blasted straight against her cervix. Hana screamed my name—“Dante!”—her voice cracking as her own climax slammed into her. Her walls spasmed violently, milking every heavy spurt as I pumped her full. Pulse after pulse, I flooded her married cunt until it overflowed, creamy white cum leaking out around my shaft and running down over my balls in messy rivulets. She kept riding through it, desperate little slams like she wanted to wring out every drop, her thighs shaking uncontrollably.

When the last weak twitch left my cock, she collapsed backward against my chest, still impaled, both of us panting like we’d run a marathon. My hands slid up her sweat-slick body to cup her heaving tits, thumbs lazily circling her nipples. Cum continued to seep out of her stretched hole, trickling down her inner thighs in slow, obscene trails.

Hana turned her head, lips brushing my jaw, voice hoarse and breathless but full of filthy promise.

“This is only the beginning of our secret affair. I’m going to sneak you into my marital bed every chance I get while Rafael is none the wiser. He’ll sleep right beside us and never know his best friend is pumping his wife full of cum in the sheets he bought.”

She squeezed her pussy around my softening cock, a wicked little pulse that made me twitch inside her.

“So tell me, Dante… how soon can you come over and fuck me in the bed I share with him?”