My Wife's Weekend with My Best Friend

The drive up to the lake house always settled something deep in my chest, but this time the air inside the car crackled with a different kind of charge. I was thirty-eight, still firm in the places that mattered and soft in the ones Reid’s eyes kept finding whenever he thought I wasn’t looking. Everett sat behind the wheel, one hand resting easy on my thigh, thumb stroking slow circles that felt like permission. Reid rode shotgun, his fit forty-year-old frame filling the seat, dark hair a little longer than usual, jaw shadowed just enough to make me wonder how it would feel scraping the inside of my thigh.

We pulled up under the pines just after noon. The house sat secluded on its own little cove, glass and cedar, private dock stretching out over dark water. I climbed out first, stretching so my blouse rode up and the curve of my waist showed. Both men watched. I felt it like heat on my skin.

“I’ll get the bags,” Reid said, voice lower than usual. His arm brushed mine as he passed, and the brief contact sent a shiver straight between my legs. Everett caught my eye over the roof of the car and gave me that quiet, hungry smile I knew by heart. He had spelled it out weeks ago, voice rough against my ear while he fucked me slow: he wanted to watch me enjoy his best friend. Wanted to see me take every inch. Wanted me dripping and loud and completely given over. I had agreed because the thought of it already made me wet. Now we were here, and the weekend stretched ahead like an open invitation.

We settled in with the lazy rhythm of people who had done this a hundred times before—except nothing felt the same. Everett poured wine while Reid opened windows. I changed into a soft cotton dress that clung when the lake breeze hit, no bra, nipples already tight from the way both of them kept glancing. Dinner was simple grilled fish and more wine on the deck as the sun dropped. Reid’s knee bumped mine under the table and stayed there. Everett’s foot found mine and pressed, steady encouragement.

That first night we only talked and drank and let the tension breathe. I went to bed between Everett’s arms, his cock hard against my ass while he whispered how beautiful I looked when Reid’s eyes followed me. I came quietly on his fingers thinking about what was coming.

The next two days unspooled slow and golden. Mornings started with coffee on the dock. I swam in a tiny black bikini that barely held my breasts, water streaming down my stomach when I climbed the ladder. Reid was already in the lake, treading water, watching droplets race between my cleavage. Everett sat on the lounge with a book he never turned a page of, eyes locked on us.

“Looking good, Roxanne,” Reid called, voice easy, almost teasing. He swam closer. “That suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”

“Maybe I don’t want it to,” I answered, floating on my back so my tits broke the surface. His gaze dropped and stayed. Everett’s quiet chuckle floated over the water.

Afternoons were for sunbathing. I stretched out on the wide chaise, oil gleaming on my skin. Reid sat nearby, shirt off, the hard planes of his chest and the trail of hair disappearing into his swim trunks impossible to ignore. Everett refilled our glasses, then settled opposite us, legs spread, clearly half-hard already. I rolled onto my stomach and reached back to untie the bikini strings. The top fell away. Cool air kissed my nipples. I felt both men go still.

Reid’s voice came rough. “Christ, Camila—sorry. Roxanne. Those curves of yours…” He cleared his throat. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

I turned my head, cheek on my arm, and smiled at him. “Tell me.”

He leaned in, elbows on knees, close enough that I smelled sunscreen and skin. “You’re built for hands. For a mouth. That ass, those hips—Everett’s a lucky bastard, but he already knows I think so.” His fingers hovered, then brushed a stray lock of hair from my shoulder. The touch lingered, warm and deliberate, tracing the edge of my collarbone before he pulled back like he’d burned himself.

Everett’s voice cut in, low and steady. “Touch her if you want. She likes it.” I glanced at my husband. His eyes were dark, encouraging, the front of his shorts tented. “I want to see you completely taken by him this weekend. Every way he wants. I need it.”

The words sank into me like warm oil. My pussy clenched around nothing. I rolled onto my side, breasts bare to the sun and to Reid, and let my knee fall open just enough. Reid’s gaze dropped between my legs where the bikini bottoms had ridden up. He swallowed hard.

We spent the rest of the day like that—swimming again, more wine as the light went gold, little touches that lasted longer each time. Reid’s hand on the small of my back guiding me through a doorway. My palm flat on his chest when I laughed at something he said, feeling the solid thump of his heart. Everett never left us alone for long, always nearby, always watching with that quiet, desperate hunger that made my clit throb.

By the second evening the air inside the house felt thick. We were in the big living room after dinner, another bottle open, soft music low. I sat on the couch in a short robe that kept slipping off one shoulder. Reid was in the armchair across from me, legs spread, wine glass dangling from his fingers. Everett occupied the far end of the couch, close enough to see everything, far enough to give us space.

Reid set his glass down and leaned forward. “Come here a second.”

I stood. The robe parted. I walked to him barefoot, bare underneath, and stopped between his knees. His hands settled on my hips, thumbs stroking the soft give of flesh there. “You’ve been driving me crazy,” he murmured. “Every look. Every time you bent over or stretched. Everett told me what he wants. I need to hear it from you.”

“I want you,” I said, clear and certain. My hands found his shoulders. “I want you to fuck me while he watches. I want to enjoy every second of it.”

Reid’s breath left him in a rough exhale. He tugged me closer until I straddled one of his thighs. The hard ridge of his cock pressed against my bare mound through his shorts. Heat flooded me. Everett made a low sound across the room, but I didn’t look away from Reid. His hands slid up my sides, cupping my breasts, thumbs brushing nipples that were already stiff and aching. I arched into the touch.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispered against my mouth. Then he kissed me.

It started slow—warm lips, the taste of wine, the careful press of someone who had waited. Then it deepened. His tongue slid against mine, hungry, claiming. One hand fisted in my hair, the other gripped my ass and pulled me tighter against the thick shape of him. I moaned into his mouth and rolled my hips, grinding my wet pussy along his thigh. The friction made stars burst behind my eyes. Reid groaned and kissed me harder, filthy and deep, like he was already fucking me with his tongue. My robe slipped off both shoulders and pooled at my elbows. Cool air and hot hands everywhere.

Across the room Everett’s breathing went ragged. I heard the soft sound of a zipper. I kept kissing Reid, lost in the wet slide of our mouths, the way his cock twitched against me every time I moved. My fingers dug into his hair. His palm cupped my bare breast and squeezed, thumb flicking the nipple until I whimpered.

When we finally broke for air I was panting, lips swollen, cunt slick and throbbing against his leg. Reid’s eyes were almost black. He glanced past me toward Everett, then back to my face, and the corner of his mouth curved.

“We’re just getting started,” he said, voice wrecked. His hand slid between my thighs, two fingers gliding through my folds, finding me soaked. He didn’t push inside yet—just stroked slow, deliberate, coating himself in my need while Everett watched from the other side of the room, fist already working his cock.

Reid’s fingers kept gliding through my folds, slow and deliberate, coating themselves in how wet I already was for him. I rocked against his hand, the short robe hanging useless at my elbows, my bare breasts rising and falling with every uneven breath. Everett’s fist moved steadily in the corner of my vision, the wet sound of his stroking mixing with the soft music still playing low. Reid watched my face as he finally pushed two thick fingers inside me, curling them just right. I gasped and clenched around him.

“That’s it,” he murmured, voice rough. “Show him how much you want this.” His thumb found my clit and circled while he fucked me with those fingers, slow at first, then deeper. I held onto his shoulders and rode the sensation, hips rolling, the hard ridge of his cock still pressing hot against my inner thigh through his shorts. The living room air felt heavy, charged. When he pulled his fingers free they glistened; he brought them to my mouth and I sucked them clean without hesitation, tasting myself while Everett groaned openly from the couch.

Reid stood, lifting me with him so my legs wrapped around his waist for a moment. He carried me only a few steps before setting me down and stripping off his shirt. The hard planes of his chest and stomach made my mouth water. I shoved his shorts and boxer briefs down together. His cock sprang free—thick, heavy, flushed dark at the head, already leaking. I wrapped my hand around it and stroked once, feeling the heat and the pulse. Everett’s eyes never left us.

“Bedroom,” Reid said. “Now.”

We moved together through the dim hallway, my robe abandoned on the living-room floor. The master bedroom sat at the end of the house, wide windows open to the night lake breeze, the big bed already turned down. Soft lamps cast everything in warm gold. Reid backed me toward the mattress until the backs of my knees hit. I sat, then scooted back as he climbed over me, kissing me hard again while Everett followed and took the armchair in the far corner, pants open, cock in his fist, watching like he had waited years for this exact sight.

Reid’s mouth traveled down my throat, over my breasts, sucking one nipple then the other until they ached. He kept going lower, spreading my thighs wide with his shoulders. The first long lick through my slit made me cry out. He ate me like he was starving—tongue flat and wet, then pointed and thrusting, lips sealing around my clit and sucking while two fingers pumped back inside. I fisted the sheets and looked straight at Everett.

“He’s so good at this,” I panted. “His mouth… fuck, Everett, look at him.”

Everett’s hand sped up. “I see everything. Don’t hold back.”

Reid edged me right to the brink and then pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark with intent. He stretched out on his back in the center of the bed, cock jutting thick and ready. “Ride me,” he said. “Reverse. I want him to see every inch stretching you.”

I didn’t need telling twice. I swung a leg over and faced the foot of the bed so Everett had the perfect view. Reaching back, I gripped Reid’s cock, lined him up, and sank down slow. The thick head parted me, then the first heavy stretch burned sweet as I took more. Inch by inch I lowered myself until he bottomed out, so deep I felt it in my stomach. I moaned long and low, palms braced on his thighs, and started to move.

I rode him reverse-cowgirl exactly the way Everett needed to see it—rising until only the head remained inside me, showing how my pussy clung to that thick shaft, then dropping hard so Reid filled me completely again. My tits bounced with every thrust. Wet sounds filled the room. Reid’s hands gripped my hips, guiding but not forcing, letting me set the eager pace. I ground down in circles, feeling him rub every swollen place inside me, then lifted and slammed back.

“God, look at her taking it,” Reid growled behind me. “Your wife’s pussy is perfect, Everett. So fucking tight and greedy.”

I glanced over my shoulder at my husband, riding harder, deliberately rolling my hips so the stretch was obvious. “Can you see how thick he is? How he’s opening me up?” My voice cracked with pleasure. “It feels incredible. He’s so much thicker… stretching me so good.”

Everett’s cock glistened in his fist. He nodded, eyes locked between my legs where Reid’s shaft disappeared and reappeared shiny with my juices. I kept riding, building speed, chasing the deep ache that made my thighs shake. Reid’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of my ass, spreading me wider for Everett’s view. I reached down and rubbed my clit in tight circles while I bounced, the dual sensation pushing me closer.

When my legs started to burn I lifted off him with a wet pop. Reid sat up immediately, spun me onto my hands and knees facing the headboard, and knelt behind me. One strong hand planted between my shoulder blades, pressing my chest to the mattress so my ass stayed high. He notched that thick cock against me again and drove home in one smooth, deep thrust.

I cried out into the pillow, then turned my face toward the corner so Everett could hear every word. Reid gripped my hips hard and pounded me—long, powerful strokes that slapped skin against skin and shoved me forward on the bed. The angle was ruthless, hitting that spot inside me over and over until my eyes watered with pure sensation.

“Harder,” I begged. “Fuck me harder. Everett—oh god, he’s fucking me so much deeper. It feels better, baby. His cock feels so much better like this. He’s wrecking me.”

Reid’s rhythm stayed brutal and perfect. He leaned over my back, one hand sliding under to squeeze my swinging breasts, the other still locked on my hip. “Tell him more,” he ordered against my ear, voice strained. “Tell your husband how much you love getting fucked by his best friend.”

I moaned it straight to Everett while Reid hammered me. “I love it. I love how thick he is, how he fills me completely. Your best friend’s cock is ruining me for anything else right now. Watch him take what’s yours. Watch me enjoy every second.”

Sweat slicked my skin. The bedframe creaked. My orgasm built like a wave, coiling tight in my belly. Reid felt it—my walls fluttering and clamping—and fucked me through it without slowing, dragging the climax out until I was shaking and babbling. Only when I started to go boneless did he pull out with a wet sound. He stroked himself twice over my arched back and came hard, thick ropes of cum landing hot across my skin, striping from the small of my back up between my shoulder blades.

I stayed on my knees panting, feeling every pulse of his release cooling on me, while Everett’s fist worked faster in the corner. Reid’s palm rubbed his cum into my skin almost possessively, then he collapsed beside me on the bed, chest heaving. I turned my head and met my husband’s eyes. He was still rock-hard, still stroking, gaze roaming over the mess Reid had left on me and the way my thighs stayed spread and glistening.

The night breeze from the lake stirred the curtains. Reid’s hand drifted lazily along my hip, already half-hard again against my thigh. Everett showed no sign of finishing yet. The weekend was only getting started, and the hunger in both their faces told me we still had hours—and ways—left to go before any of us slept.

Reid’s fingers traced idle patterns through the cooling stripes of his own release across my back, and the simple possessiveness of it made my spent body shiver all over again. I rolled onto my side to face him, the lake breeze cooling the sweat on my skin, and caught Everett’s eyes still fixed on us from the armchair. His cock looked painfully hard in his fist, the head shiny and dark, but he hadn’t come—deliberately holding back so he could keep watching. I loved him for that more than I could say.

“Come here,” I whispered to my husband. “I want you closer.”

Everett stood, pants sliding the rest of the way off, and crossed the room naked. At thirty-eight he was still solid and familiar, the body I had loved for years, and when he sat on the edge of the mattress I reached for him immediately. My hand wrapped around his cock, still slick from his own stroking, and I gave him a slow pull while Reid’s mouth found the side of my throat.

“She’s not done,” Reid murmured against my skin. “Not even close.” He was already thickening again against my hip, that thick forty-year-old cock recovering faster than I expected. I turned my head and kissed him, tasting myself on his tongue, while my fist worked Everett steady and loving.

Reid rolled me onto my back and settled between my thighs again. This time he didn’t rush. He kissed down between my breasts, lingering on each nipple until they stood stiff and wet, then lower, dragging his tongue through the mess we had already made. I was swollen and sensitive, still dripping from earlier, and when he sealed his mouth over my clit and sucked I arched hard off the bed with a broken sound. Everett’s hand covered mine on his cock, guiding the pace, his eyes never leaving the place where Reid’s dark head moved between my legs.

“Lick her open for me again,” Everett said, voice rough. “I want to see how wet she stays for you.”

Reid answered by spreading me with both thumbs and driving his tongue deep. I came faster than I meant to—sharp, fluttering pulses that made my thighs clamp around his head—while Everett groaned approval and leaked over my knuckles. Before the aftershocks even faded Reid was sliding up my body, cock nudging my entrance, and sinking back inside in one long, unbroken thrust.

The stretch felt different this time, deeper somehow, my body already shaped to him. I locked my ankles at the small of his back and took every stroke while Everett leaned down and kissed me, sharing the taste of my own pleasure. Reid fucked me slow and grinding at first, rolling his hips so the base of his cock rubbed my clit on every downstroke. Then he hooked my knees over his shoulders and folded me nearly in half, driving deeper until I could only gasp broken praise into Everett’s mouth.

“He’s so deep,” I managed. “God, Everett—he’s fucking me so full. Watch how he uses me.”

Reid’s rhythm stayed measured but ruthless, each thrust punching a wet slap through the quiet room. Sweat dripped from his chest onto mine. I reached between us and rubbed my clit in frantic circles until another orgasm rolled through me, milking his cock in rhythmic clenches. He cursed, pulled out just long enough to flip me onto my side facing Everett, then slid back in from behind. One of his arms banded under my breasts, the other hooked my top knee high, opening me completely so Everett could see every thick inch disappearing into my cunt.

“Stroke him while I take you,” Reid ordered against my ear. “Show your husband how much you love this.”

I did. My hand moved on Everett’s cock in the same rhythm Reid fucked me—long, tight strokes that made Everett’s hips jerk. Reid’s free hand found my clit again and circled it mercilessly. The dual sensation wrecked me. I came a third time with a cry that cracked into Everett’s name, walls fluttering hard around Reid’s shaft. This time Reid didn’t pull out. He buried himself to the root and flooded me with thick, hot pulses, grinding deep while he emptied everything he had left.

We stayed locked like that for long breaths, Reid still twitching inside me, Everett rock-hard and leaking in my fist. When Reid finally softened and slipped free I felt the warm rush of his cum sliding down my inner thigh. I didn’t clean it. I wanted Everett to see it.

Reid collapsed onto his back beside me. I rolled onto my stomach between them, stretched out and boneless, and took both their cocks in my hands—one still sticky with me and spent, one aching and neglected. I stroked them lazily, almost tenderly, while I leaned over and kissed Reid deep and slow. His tongue met mine without hurry, tasting of sex and wine and the long weekend still unfolding. Everett’s hand rested warm on the small of my back, fingertips tracing the place where Reid’s earlier release had dried.

I broke the kiss and turned my head just enough to meet Everett’s eyes. My fists never stopped their slow, loving pull on both men.

“I loved every second of being watched,” I told him, voice soft and wrecked and honest. “I loved being used by your best friend while you sat there stroking and needing it. Feeling him stretch me open, hearing you breathe harder every time I begged for more—God, Everett, it made me so wet I still can’t stop dripping. You giving me to him like that… I felt completely free and completely yours at the same time.” I squeezed both cocks gently, watching Everett’s pupils blow wider. “The weekend has only just begun. Feel that?” I guided his free hand between my thighs so his fingers slipped through the fresh slick already gathering again. “I’m still hungry. We’re going to fill every hour left.”

Reid’s cock twitched back toward hardness under my palm. Everett’s was leaking steadily now. I kissed Reid once more, deep and filthy, then turned and took the head of Everett’s cock into my mouth, tasting the salt of his restraint. He groaned and threaded fingers into my hair, but he didn’t thrust—just let me suck him slow while Reid’s hand drifted down to cup my ass and slide two fingers back into the mess he had left inside me.

I floated on the dual pleasure, body loose and greedy, already imagining the morning. Coffee on the dock would turn into me on my knees between them. Afternoon sun would mean Reid bending me over the lounge while Everett watched from the water. Night would bring both of them in me at once if I asked—and I would ask. I was already scheming the next long weekend after this one, maybe sooner: another lake house trip, or just locking the three of us in our own bedroom at home for two solid days with the phones off and the door locked. I would tell Everett I needed Reid again, needed that thick cock wrecking me while my husband held my wrists and whispered how proud he was. I would plan it carefully—groceries already stocked, schedule cleared, nothing but skin and watching and the endless wet sound of me being taken exactly the way all three of us craved.

Reid’s fingers curled inside me and found that perfect spot. Everett’s cock pulsed on my tongue. I moaned around him and kept stroking, kept sucking, kept promising them both with every eager movement of my body that this was only the beginning of everything we were going to do.