Know Who Your Friends Are

This story is about adultery and succumbing to temptation. It is also a story about friendship and love.

The woman involved does not get punished. She does not get kicked out by an incredibly calm, wise and insufferably smug husband with a black belt in karate and no sense of humour or self knowledge. She does not beg in vain to be taken back. She does not end up destitute, destroyed and on drugs. In fact, she has rather a nice time.

This is just a story. A fantasy really.

+++

ANGELA

We have got a bit of time. Let me tell you a story. It all took place fairly recently. Comfortable? Good.

First, let me tell you a little more about John and me. We met at a party when we were in our early 20's. John and I clicked and, pretty soon, getting married seemed inevitable. It has worked well, extremely well actually. I can honestly say that John is my best friend. Our sex life is good, more than good. I think we've tried all the orifices that seem feasible. I've leafed through the manuals and we have tried anything that didn't seem totally ridiculous, disgusting or dangerous.

I do remember that I was quite disappointed with the Kama Sutra. It seemed to consist largely of dozens and dozens of variations, where the woman gets on all fours and makes different farmyard or zoo noises, while being poked from behind. Unfairly, the man is not required to make any noise at all. One day, as I was being taken in that position, I thought I would try it - I think I bleated like a sheep - without any warning. The result was the end of sex and we both collapsed laughing. It was ages before we could get back to fucking. So much for ancient erotic wisdom. Anyway, enough of that. Let me get back to my story.

John had met Brian about seven years back when they were both in the same company. We met his wife Kate shortly after and soon we all four became friends. They have stood by us when things have been bad. Brian has a superb sense of humour and Kate is extremely nice, one of my closest friends. I think I would best describe them both as being charismatic. People are attracted to them -- I am not talking of sex -- they are just likable. Actually, they are both pretty good looking. Kate has a stunning figure and Brian has nice eyes. For some reason they also seem to like us. We had dinner at each other's houses quite often. We have been skiing together once, to a small place in Austria and had a marvellous time.

Sadly, six or seven months ago, they had to move to Birmingham, because of Brian changing his job. We were quite upset, though pleased for him. I was afraid the friendship would wither like so many - to the annual Christmas card with 'we really must get together this year'.

As luck had it, John started on a project up near Birmingham. Brian and Kate were effusive in their demands that he should stay with them. Certainly it would be much nicer for him than staying in a dreary hotel each week. Of course, we had some trepidation, as it is not necessarily the same to be virtually living with a couple. Nonetheless, thanking them both, John tried it out and it went fine. It was nice for me too - much better than ringing up at a hotel. I probably spent as much time talking to Brian and Kate as I did John. John was usually up there just a couple of nights each week, though I remember one weekend he stayed over, as he needed to do some work.

After a month or so, John rang to say that Brian was down in London all the next week, while John himself was only due up in Birmingham for the Tuesday night. "Would it be OK if Brian stayed with us that week?" Well of course, I was delighted. It would be so good to see him again and to repay some of their hospitality.

I got home early that Monday and put a lot of effort into ensuring we had a nice meal. John and Brian arrived together. It was so good to see Brian again. He was looking as fit as ever and we greeted each other with a big hug and kisses. He brought a very expensive bottle of Burgundy, which helped the meal down. It was just like old times, as we cracked jokes and remembered things we had done and mutual acquaintances. John was a little quiet, but then he is not as outgoing as Brian.

Towards the end of the meal, Brian complimented me on the dinner I had prepared and suggested that the next evening, while John was away, he took me to a really nice restaurant. I demurred, saying that it was not necessary after all they had done for John. Brian insisted, saying it was basically just his expenses and John had taken them out to several meals. John thought it was a good idea too, so I felt I had no choice but to give in gracefully. Actually, I was delighted. He'd suggested a really swish place I had always wanted to try and besides I'd always found Brian great company. Brian said he'd sort out the arrangements and ring me at work the next day.

Just before lunch, Brian rang to say that everything was fine, he'd booked a table. He suggested I meet him at the restaurant, as he had to work quite late. We should both use taxis, so neither of us had to miss out on the evening. I got home early, had a shower and, feeling quite excited, got into one of my best dresses, complete with all the make up and jewellery. It was fun. I called a minicab and it deposited me at the restaurant within five minutes of the agreed time.

Brian was already there, he stood up, gave me a big hug and kiss as usual and complimented me on how 'delicious' I looked. I felt chuffed. The food was divine, as was the wine. We had a fair bit to drink, without getting plastered. All in all, it was marvellous. It was super with just the two of us, we must have spent nigh on half the time laughing - when we weren't stuffing ourselves, that is. Eventually, the time came to leave. Brian wouldn't let me see the bill but it must have been hefty. The restaurant called a cab and we piled in, with Brian's arm round my shoulder. We drove back with my head resting against him and I was feeling so relaxed and dreamy. What a lovely evening.

It wasn't that late, so I got us both a brandy and we settled down on the sofa. Brian took hold of my hand, very matter-of-factly. He said "You and John have been friends of mine now for several years. I like each of you enormously and I respect each of you just as much. Your friendship is something I want to keep at any cost. I am going to say something now that may deeply offend you but I must say it." I wondered what could possibly be wrong, had something gone amiss with John staying with them?

"I would very, very much like to make love with you and I am asking you to do so." I was shell shocked. I know it sounds naïve, but I had not expected that at all. I just must have stammered "That's not possible" or something like it. "Why not" he said, with that smile of his. "You know why not. There's Kate and there's John. It's not right". "It wouldn't be hurting either of them. It's something to do with just the two of us. Look, I know it sounds like all the clichés in the book. But I love you very much. I think it would be very special and very wonderful for both of us. All I ask is that you think about it. The offer will stand. I am not going to push you or force myself on you. It must be your decision."

I said nothing. I just felt so low. "I am not going to push you" he said "but there is one thing I must do". He reached across, held my face in his hand and kissed me very softly and tenderly on the mouth. That did something to me. I think if he had persisted then I might have succumbed. But he didn't. He sat back and looked at me, again smiling, "Well?"

I must have gone through all the usual things, 'How could we?', 'We must think of the others' 'How are we going to face them anyway?' and all the other things I could think to say. He didn't argue. He just repeated the things he had said and told me how much he cared for me. Suddenly, I realised I had been holding his hand all this time and quickly I let go of it.

Eventually we had to go to bed. We were both working the next day. We said good night very politely and I thanked him for the lovely meal. He suddenly burst out laughing and said how British we were being. I had to grin.

That night I was in turmoil. I kept wondering how I could face John the next evening with Brian there. But I couldn't ask Brian to leave. It would be impossible to explain without it all coming out. He had kept his word, he hadn't pushed me. I couldn't bust everything up, throw everyone's friendship into the bin, just because he'd gone potty, probably with the wine. I kept worrying that he would come into my room and kept thinking how I could react. I kept imagining noises and thinking it was him. To make matters worse I was wet as hell. It would be so much easier if I didn't find him so attractive. I could not sleep. To help, I tried imagining John was there and I was just drifting off with a lovely fantasy, when I realised with a shock that it was Brian's face and body I was imagining not John's.

I was dreadful the next morning. Brian seemed little better. I would have been so cross if he'd been as fresh as a daisy, the bastard. Before we both had to go, he spoke very quietly to me. He said he realised that it had been very difficult for me and he was sorry for causing me that upset. He meant every word he had said (damn and blast) but that in no way was he going to cause me or John embarrassment that evening. "Trust me a little, please" he said. The odd thing is that I did.

We went off to work. I was getting quite reconciled to the situation and with coping with the rest of the week (very British again) when the phone rang. It was John. "How was dinner?" "Fine". John had to stay up there the rest of the week and would be back on Friday. I was aghast. How could I cope with just me and Brian? John kept on burbling about underwear and shirts and buying them or getting Kate to wash them. I was a damn sight less worried about his underwear than I was about the contents of mine and Brian's - especially Brian's. What could I do? "Fine, that's OK. Look after yourself". Sodding British.

I arrived home, dreading Brian being there - we'd given him a key. He wasn't there. I felt relieved, sort of. I had a shower and got dressed in very simple clothes, plain blouse and long skirt. I was just applying a little make up, when I realised Brian was there behind me, looking at me. I smeared my lipstick and had to wipe it off, cursing. He smiled and held out his hand, offering a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. I had already decided it was best for me to behave as though his 'aberration' had never happened. So I thanked him and gave him an awkward hug and a kiss on the cheek. I went down, put the flowers in water and prepared some supper. We sat down to eat, making small talk. I rather expected him to say something but he just talked away as he always did, making jokes and being his usual good company. We put away the dishes and I tidied.

I was just congratulating myself on handling it all rather well, when I felt him behind me. He put his arms round me and buried his face in my neck. His left hand, wrapped right round me, held me just below the hip. His forearm was pressed against my belly, sending out slithers of fire all over me. His other hand held my left breast. I groaned and, without thinking, arched my back, my bum pressing against him, my head thrown back. I turned my head, our lips met and I turned into his arms. Feeling his whole body against me, my tummy felt for that prick, that I had being trying so hard to ignore, found it and pressed against it.

After some moments of sweet, sweet kissing he disengaged, stepped back and looked into my eyes. I felt unreal with a weird kind of warmth spreading through me. He reached forward and, still looking into my eyes, undid the buttons of my blouse. He undressed me, while I didn't move a muscle, except to step out of my skirt and panties. He stopped, waiting.

Hesitantly, I undid the buttons down the front of his shirt, then, as he held out each hand to me, I undid the buttons at each wrist. I could go no further. I stood there naked while he took off his clothes. His erection drew my gaze like a magnet. I had not an atom of resistance left in me. We sank onto the sofa, I opened my legs. I felt his prick against the entrance to my cunt. I felt it press forward and I welcomed him into me.

We made love, my memory of it is unclear. What I do remember is, as he came, I felt wave after shuddering wave enter me as the first troops of a conquering army. I had been ravished. I had now joined the ranks of adulteresses.

Afterwards we lay entwined and I started to say that this was all a mistake and how we must forget that it happened. Before I finished, he had rolled on top of me and was inside me again. I held him, moved with him, babbled words of love to him. I remember that time much more clearly.

After we finished this second time, it seemed foolish to talk of mistakes and forgetting. We went to bed, made love again. In the middle of the night we coupled a fourth time, spooning, neither of us cumming, falling asleep while making love. In the morning when I woke, we were curled up together and he was still inside me. I shifted slightly and I felt him slip out. Feeling deprived, I reached down and fingered him, marvelling at what I held in my hand. He grew, awoke and he had me again. The alarm went as we moved. We continued, he finished and we galvanised into action - both needing to get to work. Breakfast was hurried. We kissed and rushed our separate ways with only time for a few words.

At work that day, I was in a dream. All the events of the previous night streamed through my mind, intermingled with thoughts of the coming evening. I had scant doubt that we would go to bed again. Vaguely, thoughts went through me that we would make love, then, once he had returned to Birmingham, I would say we must stop. Ha!

That evening we had time. We did all the things that lovers do. Yet it all seemed fresh and new. At one point the phone rang. It was John. I was wearing Brian's shirt and nothing else. We talked. 'Was Brian OK? Was I looking after him?' 'How was Kate? Give her my love'. It was curious. I felt pleased to be speaking to him, happy to hear his voice. Very happy. Yet I had another man's sperm inside me and I would soon be aching for more. I loved John. When I put the phone down, Brian held me and we just sat there for a while. Eventually we kissed and it all resumed.

It is Friday, Brian has gone and now I am waiting to see my husband again. Maybe I should have felt all sorts of things. Certainly I was nervous. I felt happy - and I looked forward to seeing John. I prepared food and then sat down to wait for him. I listened to music and thought about Brian, John and my situation.

At 10.00 p.m. I heard John's key in the door. I walked to greet him. The adulterous wife goes to meet her husband. We embraced and kissed - lingeringly. I was genuinely pleased to see him. We chatted away as we ate, then went to bed. We made love tenderly and with great consideration. The next day was Saturday. Over breakfast I thought that John must surely detect the difference - but no. Thank God for men. It must be hell being a lesbian; you wouldn't be able to get away with anything.

That was one of the best weekends we had ever had. It may be the fear of loss but I really appreciated John. We did things together and made love more frequently than we had for months, if not years.

Brian came to stay with us that Tuesday. John was also here that evening. I had enormous butterflies but, as Brian had said, we'd have to face it sooner or later and it was probably better sooner. It was fine. Everyone was friendly and relaxed. Brian and I made no attempt to exchange glances or stolen touches. In the night, as I was fucked by and then lay beside my husband, I thought of my lover, in bed just a few feet from us. The next morning, John was the first to leave. That gave Brian and me a few minutes to kiss and hold each other, before we too had to go.

Over the next weeks, Brian came down quite regularly. If John was there, we were all good friends. If not, then Brian and I were lovers, passionate lovers. Gradually I adjusted to my situation. Occasionally, I would stop myself and think - what was I doing? I was too happy to think seriously of changing.

I continued to be surprised that John noticed nothing, until I realised that he too seemed different. He seemed light hearted, on air, much less easily bothered. I started to wonder why. His behaviour was so similar to mine, was the reason the same? If so, who? Gradually something dawned on me. I found myself thinking very hard. I had to handle this very, very carefully.

First I bearded Brian. Did Kate know that we are sleeping together? For the first time in our affair, he seemed off balance. He hesitated for some moments, looked at me and said "Yes". I pressed him on whether this bothered her. He said "No, she was very happy for us both". He went on to explain that each of them accepted that the other had affairs. Given that we were all such close friends, he could not keep this affair a secret. As we went to bed and made love, I got the impression that he was ever so slightly apprehensive. Good.

A day or so later I rang Kate when I knew Brian would not be around. "Kate, I gather you know that Brian and I are having an affair, is that so?" If I was wrong on that part, I was truly in the shit. "Yes, how is it going?" "Great, tell me do you TRULY not mind?" "No, I don't, honestly I don't. I know Brian has been very, very keen on you for some time. It is something really good for him. And for you too, I believe. You are someone I regard as a true friend. It may sound odd, but I would much rather Brian slept with someone I knew and liked enormously than an enemy or stranger."

"OK. Kate, I'd like to ask you one further question. Before you answer, I want you to know that I am not going to be angry, whatever your answer."

I paused, "Are you sleeping with John?"

There was a long gap, then "Yes, are you sure you are not angry?"

"I'd be a hypocrite if I was. Thank you for telling me, I appreciate that", which was probably an odd thing to say to someone who is fucking your husband -- British again?

"Do you care to tell me any more about it, Kate?"

"I'd rather not just at this point. Have you thought how you are going to handle this?"

"Yes".

We spoke awkwardly for a minute or so and then I said "Goodbye".

"Goodbye, and, Angela, good luck." I should have wanted to scratch her eyes out for saying that. Instead, for some reason, it affected me deeply.

It was a few days later, a Saturday morning. John and I were in bed. There was no great rush to get up. I turned to him and as I put my hand down to his limp cock, I said "Tell me, if you were going to go to bed with someone apart from me, who would you like it to be?" His cock started to stir under my hand. I ran through the names of some film stars and models. No reaction and his prick subsided slightly. I then started to run through the names of some of our female acquaintances and friends. When I mentioned one of my college friends, Mary, his prick gave a very definite quiver. 'Interesting, you bastard' I thought.

Then I said quite casually "And how would you like to go to bed with Kate?"

His prick went hardened immediately and I started to rub it very, very slowly. I held it with my hand away from the glans to reduce the risk of his cumming. I didn't want my hand or my plans messed up at this juncture.

"Oh, so you want to go to bed with Kate do you? You are a naughty boy, aren't you?" He said nothing. "All right, you can sleep with her then. Do you want to?" Still no response. "Come on, I am giving you permission. Do you want to fuck her." I stroked him, "Go on say it."