My Friend's Boyfriend (now Husband)!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Please note the story tags.

This is the story of what happened one night, maybe eleven years ago, when my friends boyfriend told me he loved me at the end of a night out. The two of them actually got married a couple years later and now own a pizzeria on Swansea seafront, but neither Joe nor I have ever told my friend what happened that night. It remains one of my most sordid secrets.

A group of us had gone out on a Saturday night on the mile; friends, couples, a few people I didn't know. I wore a white backless crossover dress that showed off my legs and my midriff. It was one of those dresses that my Father certainly wouldn't have approved of if he'd seen it - it was way too short and revealed much too much flesh - but we'd not long come back from Malta (where we'd go on family holidays each summer) and I wanted to show off my tan.

It was, predictably, very loud and very messy, but everyone had a great night - we danced and did shots, I think there was karaoke - and, unless my memory is wrong, nobody fell out - which is a rarity for a large group of drunken Welsh girls and even drunker rugby players!

At the end of the night Fran was supposed to be giving me a lift home. As it transpired, she was way to drunk to drive so her boyfriend Joe, who was also drunk but the most sober, offered to give me a lift. He still shouldn't have driven, but not wanting to get a cab on my own, and despite knowing better than to get into a car with a drunk driver, I got in the car with them both anyway.

As I climbed into the back seat I noticed Joe staring at my ass. My dress was so short that he undoubtedly caught a flash of my underwear as I clambered in, but as I sat down he quickly averted his gaze. I didn't mind him staring, it happened sometimes and I was pretty sure I'd caught him a couple times during the evening already.

As we drove Fran complained that she was really drunk was going to puke. Not wanting to have to clean up a mess, Joe decided to drop her back first and I waited in the idling car, twirling my dark curly hair (like I do when I'm drunk) while he took her inside. When he came back he took me back to my parents house at the top of Sketty and while we drove I noticed him checking out my legs and the high cut of my dress again.

I had known Joe, or known who he was, for most of my life. We weren't particularly close but we'd gone to the same school so we knew the same people and most of the rugby lads were a part of our circle of friends. He was ginger, although he kept his head shaved and was thickly built with really strong arms. He'd been with my friend for maybe eighteen months and they seemed perfectly happy.

It was a hot summer night so I had the window rolled open. As we pulled up to my parents house the clock in the car read 3:15 am. The lights were off inside.

"Good, they're asleep," I said tipsily; "I don't particularly want to face the inquisition at this time in the morning."

Joe laughed.

"Thanks for the lift," I said and leaned over and gave him a quick hug. He squeezed me back, hard.

"No worries Grace," he growled in his thick Welsh accent. "You feeling alright, yeah?"

"Yeah," I replied, "just a bit drunk."

He laughed. "Me too - don't say nothing though, right?"

I grinned and got out and made my way unsteadily up the path toward the front door. The security light came on, momentarily blinding me and I turned around to wave goodbye. Joe had been watching my ass again and quickly looked up to meet my eyes. He waved back.

I turned and walked up to the door, rooting around drunkenly for the keys in my bag. I was thinking about how I could sneak in without waking anyone when heard the engine of Joe's car turn off and his car door open.

"Need a hand Grace?"

"--No. It's okay. I Just can't find -- Oh wait, here they are!" I whirled around, holding my keys up triumphantly and was surprised to find him standing right next to me. He was so close that I could smell the booze on his breath.

"Is everything--"

"I have to tell you something," he said quietly, insistently. "And I don't want you to think it's just 'cos I'm drunk."

He moved even closer and I looked up into his eyes. Joe is well over 6 foot, and while he has a bit of a belly on him, he was a rugby player and his upper body was nothing but slabs of muscle. In total contrast, I'm 5'2, a size 6 and like 110 lbs, so I'm positively tiny next to him. I blew a tangle of hair from my face.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I don't quite no how to say this," he admonished. "But... I'm in love with you Grace. I always have been. You're amazing."

I was stunned into silence. I felt as though someone had slapped me. I was not expecting him to say that!

When I didn't respond he reached out and grasped my arms with his massive hands. "I mean it Grace," he implored.

"Joe... Don't be silly. You're drunk. You can't--"

"I'm not. Well, I am. Drunk. I mean. But it's true. I... I love you Grace, everything about you."

He squeezed my arms gently. His skin was pale against my tanned flesh.

"You're beautiful. Sexy. Funny. Smart. Anyone ever tell you you look just like Michelle Keegan by the way?"

They had, actually; so I guess I do. Before I could answer though, he leaned in and said quietly: "I want to fuck you so damn badly Grace".

When I look back I think: What was it about him saying that? Why was it that line that made me think that I wanted him too, that this might be a good idea? I should have told him to go home; I should have told him to go fuck himself.

But I didn't.

"I -"

He reached up and shifted the curl of brown hair that had fallen back over my face, and then he kissed me on the lips.

His kiss was firm and wet. I froze for a moment, letting it go on for longer than I intended before pulling away.

"Joe... We can't," I said, but even I recognized I did so with little conviction, "what about Fran?"

"Don't think about her. This doesn't involve her. This is just me. Us."

That was another moment where I should have said no. I should have stopped it right then and just gone to bed.

But I didn't.

I swear I'm usually such a good friend and I've never done anything like this before or since. But there was something about that moment right then... I'm not sure if it was the drink or him or something else, but my inner slut started to take over.

I opened my mouth to tell him that I couldn't do it to my friend but he kissed me again and this time, to my surprise, I kissed him back.

Shit, I thought guiltily, I shouldn't be doing this, but there was something arousing about being held in his big arms and as his tongue moved over mine, wetness leaked into my knickers.

I'm pretty flat chested but that didn't stop Joe pawing at my breasts. He put his large hands on my halterneck dress and pulled the satin apart so that they popped out for him. He leaned back to take a good look and the cold air turned my nipples rock hard in front of his eyes. He teased the hard little nubs with his thumb and forefinger and small jolts of pleasure arced through my body.

I tried to fight it; I thought: Don't do this Grace... But I love having my nipples played with - it drives me wild - and instead I kissed him this time, passionately, eagerly, feeling the sensation of arousal building inside me.

The security light above the door winked out. A second later it turned back on.

"Wait," I said, remembering where we were; realizing I was standing on the front doorstep with my breasts exposed to the street. Quickly, I covered myself up.

"What's the matter?" Joe asked, "don't you want to?" He squeezed my tiny left breast through my dress. Little fireworks of pleasure went off inside me and I gasped. "You do," he said. "You want this don't you?"

"I... do," I admitted. I was so fucking horny now. "...But not here. Not where the neighbors can see--"

He kissed me again and I kissed him back. Our tongues danced in each others mouths.

I turned round and put the key in the lock. He put his arms around me and started kissing my neck. As I fumbled with the latch he reached down and ran his huge hands over my soft warm mound, pressing his fingers into the cleft of skin through my dress.

"Unnngh," I moaned softly, my body responding to his touch and I pushed my hips into him so that his fingers probed deeper. Blood rushed to my labia and clit and I felt a yearning inside me which would only be satisfied when I came.

I knew what we were doing was wrong but I wanted it anyway. No, I realized, I needed it now! So without turning around, the keys still hanging in the door, I grabbed his hand and lifted the front of my dress. It was just enough so he could reach inside my knickers and I parted my legs to let him inside me. There was a warm rush of anticipation as his hand dove between my thighs.

For such a ham-fisted guy his touch was surprisingly light. His fingers slid tantalizingly over the smooth lips of my vagina and his thumb rubbed my clitoris which caused me to writhe in his embrace. As he caressed the hard little nub, his other hand reached in and spread my slick pussy lips and one thick finger slid slowly inside me.

"Holy fu--" I gasped and had to put both hands on the front door to steady myself. He slipped his finger in as deep as he could, swirled it around and then teased it back out. I was so fucking wet; my juices slathered my thighs. He pressed back inside me and I squirmed on his finger, the pressure of an orgasm already building.

"Don't stop," I gasped. "Fuck, please don't stop," and a few moments later I climaxed hard, doubling over as the orgasm tore through me.

I would have collapsed to the floor if he hadn't been holding me but I leaned against him breathless and sweaty, my juices drenching his massive hand.

As my orgasm subsided I opened the door, grabbed Joe by the collar and pulled him inside.

*

My legs were still trembling while I locked the door.

He kissed me in the hallway and pulled out my little breasts again. He sucked on my nipples making them painfully hard and I practically swooned and bumped into the table by the door.

"We have to be quiet," I whispered, "my parents are asleep upstairs."

He nodded and I led him into the dining room directly adjacent. I closed the door behind us as quietly as I could. Streetlight sliced the room in two, falling across the large dining table and chairs and bathing everything in a pale amber glow.

"That's better," I murmured and moved to kick off my heels, but Joe was suddenly beside me, kissing my mouth.

"Keep them on," he demanded in his deep Welsh voice and he turned me around and bent me over the table.

I could feel his erection stabbing through his jeans and knew he was eager to cum as well. He lifted up my dress and pulled my soggy knickers aside so that my glistening labia and puckered asshole were exposed to him.

"Fuck, Grace," he growled and I arched my back, giving him a better view of my hungry holes.

One hand held me against the table and with the other he hurriedly unbuttoned his fly.

"Joe, do you--" I started to say but he pushed me down until my head pressed against the table and nudged my ankles apart with his boot.

I was going to ask him if he had a condom; I never let a guy fuck me without wearing one, but the words died in my throat as his dick rubbed up against my labia. It was hot and wet and expectant. There was a jolt of electricity when he touched me and I suddenly didn't care; I hadn't had sex for a good few months and I craved it right then; I just wanted him inside me.

"I want you to fuck me," I gasped over my shoulder and I remember gripping hold of the table as his thick dick plunged into my meaty folds. He stretched my poor vagina wider than it'd ever been stretched before and my eyes teared up with the sudden intrusion.

It was uncomfortable at first - fucking uncomfortable - and I must have been gasping or moaning because he leaned over and told me to be quiet. My hair fell over my face and I just leaned on the table, "oohing" and "aahing" while I struggled with his huge girth.

He certainly wasn't the longest I've ever been with but he was so thick around I wasn't sure he could properly fit. I could feel every vein and ridge along his taut flesh and I was glad I had the alcohol in my system to numb the pain somewhat.

He did nothing for a while, just stayed inside me, while my my body gradually began to accept him and the discomfort turned into pleasure.

It still didn't stop me groaning though, and when I still didn't shut up, Joe grabbed me by the hair and yanked my head back. He turned my face to look at him and pulled out and slammed his dick back inside me. He stretched me even wider than before and I made strange, incomprehensible yelping sounds.

It felt like my insides were being rearranged and I had to rise up onto my tiptoes to relieve the pressure. He pulled slowly out and rammed his dick back inside me again. My thighs banged into the table and another spasm of pleasure shot through my body.

"You like it rough do you?" he hissed and I tried to nod in response. I was unable to form any coherent words but the animalistic grunting noises I was making were answering for me. My juices were leaking down my legs and I was soon stretched again as he slammed his fat shaft back in.

Slowly out. Hard back in.... Slowly out. Hard back in...

I could feel my ass ripple with each savage thrust. Each inward stroke forced me forwards against the table. Each time he pulled out, my juices spilled onto my thighs.

Slowly out. Hard back in.... Slowly out. Hard back in...

And then he started to fuck me even harder and quicker.

Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In.

My breasts, small though they are, flapped in circles on my chest and slapped painfully on the table as he pounded me from behind. I had to put my hand over my mouth to stop from crying out. It was a mix of intense pleasure and dull pain as he fucked my sloppy vagina with powerful thrusts. There was no finesse - it was just raw passionate lust and my vagina squelched and made embarrassing sucking noises as his dick hammered frantically in and out of me.

Truthfully, the furious fucking didn't last long. He fucked me as hard as he could and I've not ever been fucked that hard since. But after no more than a few minutes, and without asking for permission, he groaned and tensed and started cumming inside me.

He held me down and exploded inside me like a fire hose, emptying his balls while I panted breathlessly.

There's nothing quite like the feeling of a huge cock exploding inside you. It honestly felt like he must've cum gallons and when his dick finally stopped twitching and he pulled his girth from my distended hole, hot jizz spilled down my legs and splashed over the carpet beneath me.

Suddenly sated, he let me go and I slouched into a messy heap on the carpet. My insides ached and my legs trembled involuntarily, my hair was everywhere and my makeup smeared. I looked down at myself and my dress was twisted and skewed to one side; it was pulled up to my stomach and one breast was on display. I realized I was sitting in a puddle of spunk.

A long string of cum clung to the end of the fat ginger dick that hung heavily in front of my face and when I looked up at Joe the strand broke and slapped wetly on my face. I must have looked such a mess.

"So you're in love with this are you?" I said and we both burst out laughing.

*

I was sat on the toilet a half hour later, my head full of regret and remorse, desperately trying to figure out what I should do. I had enjoyed myself - it had been frankly, amazing, but I dearly wished I could turn back time. A part of me wondered whether I should confess, or whether I should I confide in someone else. I was worried I'd never be able to look Fran in the eye again.

I was stupid. So stupid; I could scarcely count the number of stupid things I'd done.

Another long stream of cum leaked out of my vagina and splooshed into the toilet. It had been leaking out of my like that for more than quarter of an hour. As if I hadn't been stupid enough, I had a load of Joe's cum deep in my uterus and wasn't on the pill. I never let a guy fuck me without a rubber on. I never let a guy cum inside me. Stupid girl, I scolded myself.

*

I felt terrible for a long time afterwards. I was ashamed of myself, ashamed I'd let it happen. Joe tried to get hold of my several times but I made excuses or dodged his calls. Even though he tried a couple more times we never had sex again.

Fran and I are still on good terms all these years later. We're in touch regularly and when I go back to Swansea I meet up with her and Joe at their pizzeria despite mine and her husbands betrayal and our sordid secret.