My Best Friend's Wife's Filthy Weekend Getaway

My Best Friend's Wife's Filthy Weekend Getaway

Mark gripped the steering wheel tighter as the city gave way to winding mountain roads. The late-afternoon sun slanted through the pines, catching on Sophia’s long, bare legs in the passenger seat. She wore a short white sundress that had ridden high during the three-hour drive, the hem barely covering the smooth, tanned skin of her thighs. At twenty-nine, she was even more dangerously beautiful than she’d been on her wedding day five years earlier. Mark had tried not to notice then. He wasn’t trying anymore.

Dave had called him from Singapore two days ago, sounding exhausted. “Bro, I’m stuck here another week. Sophia’s been looking forward to this cabin trip for months. Can you drive her up? I hate the thought of her going alone.” Mark had said yes before his brain caught up with his cock. Now here they were, the silence between them thick enough to taste.

Sophia shifted in her seat, crossing her legs so the dress slid another inch higher. “You’ve been quiet, Mark. Nervous?”

He glanced over. Her full lips were curved in that knowing little smile she’d been giving him for months. The one that said she remembered every lingering hug, every text that started innocent and ended with her sending him a photo of her in new lingerie, captioned Dave never notices.

“Not nervous,” he lied. “Just thinking about how pissed Dave would be if he knew I was driving his wife to their love nest.”

Her laugh was low and throaty. “It stopped being our love nest the day he started choosing conference calls over my pussy.” She reached over and rested her hand on his thigh, high enough that her fingertips brushed the growing bulge in his jeans. “Relax. We’re just two friends enjoying a long drive.”

The tension that had been simmering between them for half a year finally boiled over the moment they stepped inside the cabin. The place smelled of cedar and cold mountain air. Sophia dropped her bag, kicked off her sandals, and disappeared into the bedroom. When she returned five minutes later, Mark’s mouth went dry.

She wore a champagne-colored silk slip that clung to every curve. The hem ended just below the swell of her ass, and the thin straps left her shoulders bare. Her nipples were already hard, pressing against the delicate fabric like they were begging for attention. She padded across the hardwood floor, hips rolling, and bent slowly at the waist to open the small fridge, giving him a perfect view of her bare pussy and the tight pink pucker above it.

“God, I’m so fucking neglected, Mark,” she said conversationally, as if she weren’t deliberately showing him the married cunt his best friend had stopped appreciating. “Dave hasn’t made me come in months. He barely even looks at me anymore. I’ve been touching myself every night thinking about what your cock would feel like stretching me open.”

Mark’s restraint snapped like a dry branch.

He crossed the room in three strides, grabbed a fistful of her dark hair, and pulled her upright. Sophia moaned, arching back against him, grinding her ass against the rigid line of his erection.

“Be careful what you beg for, Soph,” he growled against her ear.

“I’m not begging.” She spun in his arms, dropped to her knees on the rug, and attacked his belt with eager fingers. “I’m demanding. I want my best friend’s wife fucked raw this weekend. I want you to ruin me for him.”

The moment she freed his thick cock, her eyes widened with genuine delight. “Fuck, it’s even bigger than I imagined.” She licked her lips, then swallowed him in one hungry motion, taking him straight to the back of her throat without hesitation. The wet, filthy sounds of her sloppy blowjob filled the cabin—gagging, slurping, the obscene pop every time she pulled off to gasp for air before diving back down. Spit ran down her chin and dripped onto her silk slip, darkening the fabric over her tits.

Mark groaned, threading his fingers through her hair. “That’s it. Suck your husband’s best friend’s cock like the dirty little slut you are.”

She pulled off with a gasp, strings of saliva connecting her swollen lips to his glistening shaft. “I am a slut. Your slut now. Please, Mark. Fuck me. I need it so bad.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice.

Mark hauled her to her feet, spun her around, and bent her over the granite kitchen counter. The silk slip rode up around her waist as he kicked her legs apart. Her pussy was drenched, lips puffy and shining. He dragged the fat head of his cock through her folds once, twice, then slammed into her in one brutal thrust.

Sophia cried out, fingers scrabbling against the counter. “Oh my God, yes! You’re so much thicker than him. Fuck, I can feel you in my stomach.”

He gave her no time to adjust. He fucked her with deep, punishing strokes, the sound of his hips slapping against her ass echoing off the wooden walls. Every thrust drove her forward, her heavy tits swinging inside the silk. Mark reached around and yanked the straps down so he could pinch and tug her nipples while he railed her.

“You like that?” he growled. “Like getting your married pussy wrecked by a better cock?”

“Yes! Fuck yes, I love it!” Sophia pushed back to meet every thrust, her voice breaking. “Dave could never fuck me like this. Never. Harder, Mark. Make me feel like the whore I am for you.”

He fucked her until her legs shook, then pulled out, spun her around, and lifted her. Sophia wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom. The moment he dropped her on the king-sized bed, he was on her again, shoving her thighs wide and sinking back inside her soaked heat in missionary.

This time he wrapped one hand around her slender throat, squeezing just enough to make her eyes flutter. Sophia’s mouth fell open in a silent scream of pleasure as he pounded her, the wet squelch of her cunt obscene.

“Look at me,” he ordered. “Look at the man who owns this pussy now.”

Her hazel eyes locked on his, pupils blown wide. “I’m yours. I’ve been yours for months. Just didn’t have the nerve to say it.”

Mark flipped her onto her hands and knees, gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, and drove back in. The new angle let him hit even deeper. Sophia buried her face in the pillow and screamed as she came for the first time, her walls clamping down around him like a vice.

He wasn’t done.

Pulling out, he sat on the edge of the bed and dragged her onto his lap facing away from him—reverse cowgirl. Sophia reached between her legs, guided his slick cock back inside her, and started riding him like she was trying to break him. Her ass bounced, the silk slip now bunched uselessly around her waist. Mark reached around to rub her swollen clit in tight circles while his other hand squeezed one bouncing tit.

“Come on my cock again,” he demanded. “I want to feel you squirt all over me.”

“I’m close—fuck, I’m so close—” Her voice climbed higher, frantic. “Mark—Mark—I’m—”

She shattered.

Sophia’s entire body convulsed as she squirted hard, clear fluid spraying out around his cock and soaking his thighs and the sheets. She screamed his name loud enough that it probably echoed down the mountain. The rhythmic spasms of her cunt dragged Mark over the edge with her. He roared, slamming up into her one last time as he pumped rope after thick rope of hot cum deep into her married womb.

They collapsed sideways, still joined, panting.

For a long moment there was only the sound of their ragged breathing and the distant wind through the pines.

The next morning, sunlight poured through the big windows. Mark woke to the smell of bacon and coffee. He walked into the open kitchen wearing only his boxer briefs and stopped short at the sight before him.

Sophia stood at the stove wearing nothing but his white button-down shirt. The hem barely covered the lower curve of her ass. When she reached up to grab a plate, he saw the faint bruises his fingers had left on her hips and the dried evidence of their night still glistening on her inner thighs. Her hair was a wild mess, lips still slightly swollen from sucking him off twice more before they’d finally passed out.

She turned and gave him a slow, wicked smile. “Morning, lover. Hungry?”

Mark crossed to her, spun her around, and lifted her onto the counter. The shirt fell open, revealing her perfect tits and the way her nipples instantly tightened. He stepped between her spread thighs, pulled his cock out, and slid back into her still-slick, cum-filled pussy in one smooth thrust.

Sophia moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck as he fucked her slow and deep. Possessive. Like he was staking a claim.

“This weekend is only the beginning,” she whispered against his mouth between kisses. “I’m going to text you every time Dave leaves town. I’m going to sneak into your car after yoga. I’m going to let you fuck me in our marital bed while he’s downstairs watching football. You own me now, Mark. My cunt, my mouth, my ass—everything.”

He groaned, thrusting harder, feeling her tighten around him again. They came together this time—quiet, intense, foreheads pressed together as he flooded her one last time.

Later, as they drove back down the mountain, Sophia’s hand rested high on his thigh again. She looked relaxed, sated, glowing. But there was something behind her eyes Mark couldn’t quite read.

She leaned over and kissed his neck just below the ear. “Thank you for giving me exactly what I needed,” she murmured. “Dave’s flight lands tomorrow night. I’ll text you the details for next month.”

Mark smiled, thinking about how perfect this secret felt.

What he didn’t know—what Sophia had decided not to tell him—was that Dave hadn’t actually been stuck in Singapore on business. He’d been in the next town over the entire time, staying at a discreet Airbnb. The two of them had planned the entire weekend together after Dave admitted he got off on the thought of his best friend finally snapping and fucking his neglected wife.

Dave had been watching the cabin’s hidden cameras the entire time.

And he couldn’t wait for the next “business trip.”