Andrew's Whore

This is absolutely true: I had a two-month affair with my friend's husband, and it was the hottest, sexiest thing I've ever done.

I became friends with Andrew on Facebook after he and I had exchanged witty comments on Maggie's Facebook. One day, I received a private message from him, inviting me over to their house for a surprise birthday get-together for Maggie.

Thinking nothing of it, I went over. That night when I got home, I got a private message from Andrew, saying that he had been swept away the moment I walked into his house, that he thought I was sexy and that he couldn't stop thinking about licking my pussy. From that moment on, I could think of nothing else but his handsome face between my thighs, his tongue exploring the wet folds of my aching cunt, and I realized that if I had the chance, I was going to fuck Maggie's husband.

I know what you're thinking. What kind of a friend would do that? And I agree with you. I am not a good friend to Maggie. Even worse, I don't feel bad about it. My relationship with her husband was one of the wildest experiences of my life. He made me feel beautiful, sexy, desired, loved... who would regret that? Maggie does not know, and she'll never know. And I think that what she doesn't know won't hurt her.

Anyway. Back to my story. Andrew began sending me suggestive, then downright filthy, Facebook messages. As I read each one, I became aroused, and finally consented to give him my phone number. He called me late one night and said, "I want to fuck you. We both know this is going to happen. Now let's talk about when."

He finally broke me down. I agreed to let him come to my apartment. He figured out an appropriate alibi and showed up one Saturday afternoon. I opened the door and he grabbed me and pulled me into his arms, his mouth covering mine urgently, his hands roaming to explore my body, reaching up and squeezing my breasts as his tongue slipped into my mouth. I don't even remember how our clothes came off, but soon we were in my bed, naked, and Andrew's mouth was traveling over my skin, down my throat, across my breasts, his tongue teasing my nipples before he drew one into his mouth and bit. I've never liked it when men bit my nipples, but somehow, with Andrew, there was a hunger and a desire for me that made it exciting when his teeth pinched the sensitive flesh. He moved down my body so his mouth was level with my pussy, and the moment his lips touched my cunt, it was like an electric shock went through my body. I jumped as he fastened his mouth to my wet, hungry pussy and sucked, hard. I whimpered his name as his mouth worked its magic, his tongue stabbing into my vagina and thrusting in and out like a small wriggling cock. He moaned against my sex, the vibration against my clitoris driving me to an incredible, intense climax as I came against his mouth. He chuckled, a sexy little laugh that I would grow to love and to crave.

He moved up and kissed me, letting me taste my pussy on his mouth, and his fingers played between my legs, lightly teasing me until I whined against his mouth like a little brat, desperate to feel him inside me. I could feel his cock against my thigh, long and of average thickness, and I reached down to try to guide it into me, but he moved my hand away and thrust into me with one powerful shove. I grunted as my pussy stretched to accommodate the cock's invasion, and Andrew began to move in and out of me, kissing my lips all the while.

After some time, he whispered against my lips, "Get on your hands and knees, Amy." His cock slid out of me as I obeyed – I had no choice but to obey. He made me feel raw, erotic and excruciatingly feminine; I was his possession, and I would do whatever he asked of me. There was no S&M component to this, just a very basic urge for a female animal to please a male animal.

In our conversations, I had confessed to him that it excited me to be called a whore, and to be treated like one. When I got onto my hands and knees, he leaned over me, whispering into my ear as he spread my ass cheeks, "You like being my dirty little whore, don't you?"

"YESSSSSS," I hissed, meaning it with all my heart. I loved being his whore, feeling his cock slide into my pussy from behind, feeling his hands reach around and squeeze my tits as his hips slammed against my ass over and over, his balls slapping my upper thighs.

"That's my girl," he grunted. "Do you feel my cock, you little bitch?"

I nodded, unable to speak as another orgasm overtook me. Andrew's hands gripped my ass hard, and I knew he would be leaving purple finger marks in the soft, sensitive flesh, and the thought of being marked by Andrew, having him leave a physical sign of his possession on my body, drove me over the edge and gave me the most intense orgasm I had ever had. At that moment, Andrew came too, pulling my hips back hard against him, letting his juices loose inside my pussy, where I had never let any other man cum. There was something sexy about knowing that my friend's husband was the only man ever to cum inside my body. It made him special, and in some way, it made him mine. And I knew I was going to be his whore for as long as he wanted me.