My Friend's Wife

It was a rainy Friday evening. My friend, Carl, and I had been drinking at the hole-in-the-wall beach bar basically since college.

Somehow, the conversation steered towards sex. The subject of sex doesn't come up too often, and, in the past, Carl has been pretty tight-lipped about his bedroom sessions with his wife, Erica. That's why I was a bit surprised at his openness on this particular night. We often drink, often excessively, and yet in the years that I've known them both (they met shortly after Carl and I did, at the same bar where we were still met regularly), I'd never heard him speak so explicitly about his wife.

He told me that they had had a bit of a romantic lull after their child was born that lasted a year or so, but they had been experimenting. Pretty tame stuff at first; fuzzy hand-cuffs, dirty talk, etc. But over the course of the next few weeks, he'd give me more and more insight into their goings-on in the boudoir. He started showing me sext messages that she would send him at the bar, and even showed me a picture she'd taken of her breasts.

I'd seen them once before, when I had crashed on the couch after a bit too much whiskey. It was an awkward moment for both of us. She had obviously not known that I was there and walked into the living room in her panties, breast-feeding their newborn. I wondered then if she had ever told him about that.

It was another Friday, several weeks later. Carl was not at the bar. They had taken their child to his mother's so they could enjoy a nice date night, leaving me alone to drink alone, which I did until around 9:30-10PM.

It was a text, from Carl. I found it a bit unusual.

"What are u up to?"

"At the bar. You?"

"We got back a little while ago."

I didn't really think much of it, and went back to my conversation with a friend of ours when he texted me again.

"Want to swing by for a drink?"

"Sure. Let me get my tab."

Nothing about the exchange was particularly unusual until he responded;

"Cool. Text me before you get here. I'll meet you on the porch."

That was a bit odd. Maybe they had picked up their child on the way back and just put him down? I waved it off, and within minutes, I was sitting on the porch. He came out with two glasses of wine.

"You goin' soft on me, old man?" I laughed. We typically drank beer and bourbon. He merely laughed. We made small talk for a bit, he told me about the restaurant they went to and about the film they went to see.

"Where is Erica?"

"She's inside...Tied up..." We both laughed.

"What!?" I exclaimed. I felt a warm rush of blood go through my body. Maybe I was blushing, but he started laughing again. It's a very distinctive, cartoonish laugh.

"Are you kidding?"

"No, keep it down. It's a surprise for her."

"What kind of surprise, dude? This is pretty weird, I gotta say."

"So, she feels weird that I've been with other people, and she hasn't."

"I mean, that's kinda on her though, right?" I said. She had been one of those "not before marriage" weirdos, much to Carl's frustration while they were dating.

He went on to tell me about how this was for their relationship, and he was doing it for her, and all that, but a part of me suspected that this was more his fantasy in some way.

As longtime drinking buddies, we've pissed on our fair share of alley walls on the walk home, and I've caught him looking at my cock more that a few times, depending on how drunk he was at the time.

I should describe them, before I go any further. He is a short man, stocky but not fat, with squinty eyes and well-groomed beard and hair. A bit arrogant in his intelligence, but can easily be an everyman if the situation calls for it.

Tracy is petite and a bit gray around the eyes, which are always magnified by her large glasses that she always seems to be tilting her head back to look through. Despite her meager size, she has breasts that are large for her body and a tight little ass, all of which is generally hidden by baggy clothes.

I've always found her sexy in how very non-sexual her personality is. Very shy, meek, and exceptionally kind.

I was sort of in my own world, wondering if I would indeed go through with this or if I should back out, while Carl told me his plan for the night. He had choreographed the whole thing, but I was still too shocked to pay any mind.

We finished our wine and tip-toed back into the house, timing our footsteps in tandem so as not to alert her to the presence of another person just yet.

As he opened the door, I nearly collapsed. There she was, blindfolded and tied to the bedposts completely spread-eagle, with a small pink vibrator sticking our of her soaking wet pussy. My pants tightened as my cock became completely engorged. The idea of standing in the same room of some of my best friends with a hard dick made my head swim!

Before I could come back to my senses, Carl had gone around to the side of the bed and began roughly pinching her nipple.

"Where did you go?" she asks, breathing heavily. He didn't answer. He merely pulled the vibrator out and told her to scoot up, to where her head was hanging off the bed. I stood there totally dumbfounded, looking right at her blindfolded face which was no facing right at me, yet completely oblivious to my presence. Carl untied one of her hands and told me to stand beside it, while he grabbed a video camera from a closet.

This was not discussed! I can't tell you how incredibly trapped and awkward I felt at that moment, but it didn't prevent my dick from getting harder and harder, even when I thought I couldn't get harder. I started to feel a bit of wetness in my boxer briefs. If I'd left then, I guarantee that I would have stroked off in my car thinking about Erica tied up like that.

The red light blinked on. He struggled for a moment to set it up on a tripod and get the best angle and then, like some ridiculous director, gestured for me to put my cock in her hand.

Very hesitantly, I pulled my thick, 8" cock from my pants and gingerly pulled her hand to grasp it. She inhaled sharply, her mouth parting with shock in a most desirous way.

"What's it feel like, babe?" he asked. She didn't respond. "what's it feel like?" he repeated.

"Big..." she said sheepishly. My cock tensed in her hand when she said it, and, as if that were some kind of demand, she began to stroke it.

"Do you want it inside you?"

"Is that what you want?" she asked him, still painfully awkward as she stroked my cock.

"This is for you." he said, despite his auteur directing.

"Yes." she whispered. She opened her mouth as if to invite me inside.

I move my hips to her face and get the tip of my dick between her lips. Her mouth is a bit small, so I let her lick my tip, which she does hungrily. Carl's now standing next to me, filming a great deal of my pre-cum drip down her face and into her hair. He sets the camera down and quickly unties her. She immediately reaches up to the blindfold, now wet with my excitement, but he stops her.

"Bend over" he tells her, which she does, obediently. I'm mindlessly stroking my cock when I notice Carl gesture for me to fuck her. What? I look back at him with a look of incredulity, but he's already busy re-positioning the camera. Still, the temptation is too great. I position myself behind her and rub the head of my cock around her pussy before pushing the tip in. Despite how slow my strokes are, I notice her body attempting to straighten out and her squeaks almost sound pained.

"This isn't going to work." I say. Carl responds with a horrified look puts his finger over his lips as to signal my silence.

She says my name. It's with relief or straight up elation. I notice she's now laying on her back, running her fingers along her slit. The mentality of being deprived of sight giving her some kind of new confidence.

I'm overtaken by the sight. My body moves of it's own accord and I climb on top of her. She takes my hearty cock and rubs it around her soaking pussy before I, ever so gently, enter her about half way. Her face is a deep red as she makes these small, but very sensual sounds.

Something about the restraint of going into her so shallowly begins to stir up something almost animal in my. I feel at war with myself to not shove my entire length into her. It is a war that I was winning, until she pulled the blindfold off her face and we looked directly at each other.

She's never been particularly good with eye contact since I've known her, so this sudden and very intimate moment caused within us both an explosive passion. I grabbed her ass with my right hand, with my middle-finger resting there on her asshole, while I held the back of her neck with my left and began pounding her, or rather, slamming her body on to my now painfully erect dick.

Her eyes rolled back into her head and she began to make sounds as if she couldn't breathe. Her whole body was rigid and vibrating. My friend, whose wife I was in the very process of bringing to an orgasm that he could never hope to achieve, stood there, mouth agape, his short but surprisingly thick cock in his hand...

I felt her juice come on in waves. It seemed to explode from her body, as she dug her nails into my back and appeared to convulse. I couldn't take it anymore. I felt my hot cum well up and I made a frantic attempt to pull out...but I couldn't! In fact, it seemed the more I tried, the tighter she got around me. It felt like her pussy was squeezing my dick and holding it hostage. I closed my eyes and tried to will myself not to cum, but it was futile. I came. And I came. And I felt like I couldn't stop cumming. Wave after wave of my hot semen exploded into her quivering trap. I was drooling in her hair. I felt like my mind had left my body and for a second, I'm convinced that I blacked out.

And, of all the things that happened on this night, the thing that I most feel any sort of guilt about is kissing her deeply, while we layed there stuck together, hoping that our genitals would release each other now that they were spent.

"Did...did you just cum in my wife?"

"Yeah. Sorry."

I heard him fumble with the camera again. Everything felt surreal. I felt like I might faint at any moment.

"Okay, pull out" he said, and I was finally able to. I rolled off to her side and looked over at her. She was crying a little and biting her lip. Her eyes in a haze of absolute pleasure.

"Oh fuck!" Carl said, filming what seemed to be a never-ending stream of my thick white cum while he stroked his own cock.

My legs where shaky as I got to my feet and staggered to the door. I looked back just to catch Carl cum all over his wife's spent body. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat on the porch again, not sure what to do next. Carl joined me moments later, with a beer of his own.

"Holy fuck..."

"Right? Hey, sorry about-"

"Hey man, lets just not talk about it." We both laughed. And we haven't ever really talked about it since. Mind you, this wasn't very long ago. The surprising part of the whole ordeal is how normal it has been since that night. I wonder if the memory of it makes them as helplessly horny as it makes me. It'd be embarrassing for me to admit how many times I had to "take a break" from writing this...

*****

So that's my first story. Please give me feedback or encouragement. I've never done anything like this before and it's a bit frightening.