My Husband's Friend

It was something that just happened. A conversation that went a little too far with someone it shouldn't have. The envelope got pushed just too far, just over the line. It was a Snapchat conversation, the kind that deletes immediately, with one of my husband's best friends. It wasn't meant to take the turn that it did, but we bonded over something. Something my husband and I do not bond over.

Perpetual arousal and the want to completely let loose in bed. This is not to say that my husband doesn't satisfy me, because he does. He just doesn't satisfy all of me. I've always kind of felt like something was wrong with me, with my sexual appetite never being satiated. That paired with wanting to be dominated in bed, wanting to be told what to do, tossed around and used; it's just not something my husband can do.

And so when his friend, Andy called me a good girl, I jokingly replied with, "Oooh, kinky." It escalated from there. And now I am his. Not in a romantic way, not even in a totally sexual way. When we were around other people, we were cordial. Not alluding to the fact that we knew each other much more intimately than we let on. In groups we hardly spoke, we didn't have much of a reason to. In fact, Andy and I didn't even like each other for the first few years of us knowing each other. We just simply knew each other.

This brings us all to here: My husband threw a super bowl party. I, of course, am meant to cook and to clean for it, which I don't mind. I don't care much for football. There were cheers from the entertainment room for whatever team doing whatever is cheer-worthy. I was in the kitchen at the sink, washing the dishes and listening to some music. I didn't hear him walk up, but I sensed someone behind me. The hair on my arms stood on end as I felt a strong hand grip my ponytail, twist it around his hand and pull my head back.

I felt his facial hair graze me as his lips gently pressed against my neck. He grabbed a handful of my ass roughly and whispered in my ear. "How's my good girl, doing?"

With my head still pulled back, the water running and my music playing, I moaned a small response.

"I will take you tonight, do you understand?" he growled in my ear. I felt my pussy vibrating in my pants, begging for relief.

"Yes," I panted.

He pulled my hair back harder. "Yes? Yes, what?"

"Yes, Sir," I said. I felt the wetness drip onto my panties. He reached around me for a bag of pretzels, kissed my neck once more and released my hair. I leaned over the sink, flushed from the sudden arousal as I heard his footsteps retreat.

I never meant to get to this point, to cheat on my husband in any way, shape or form. But Andy had such a hold on me, I couldn't stop it.

"Hey, Darcy! Could you bring us out some more food, babe?" Nick shouted from the entertainment room. I had to compose myself before facing my husband and his friends.

"Yeah, just one minute! Just finishing up these few dishes!" I hollered back through the house.

I walked into the entertainment room with a tray of sandwiches for Nick and his friends, doing my best to not make eye contact with Andy. His red hair and rusty facial hair weren't something I previously thought were attractive, but now they make me blush.

"You doing okay, Darce? Your face is a little red. Do you have a fever?" Nick asked, attentively.

"Oh, no. I just got a little too hot in there is all. I think I'm going to step out into the backyard and head into the office to write for a bit," I turned to walk out when Andy spoke up.

"Oh, Darcy, I didn't know you were a writer? You know, I've dabbled in editing in college, if you want someone to look over your work," I tried not to let my face show my emotions.

"Oh, thanks Andrew, that's very nice of you,"

"Andy. Call me Andy," he said, never breaking eye contact.

"Right, Andy. I do have some stuff I could use a second opinion on, but I would like to go write some more right now. If you'd like to come out after the game is done, I'll be in my office," I said as calmly as possible.

"Oh what, you're gonna let Andy read your stuff but not me! So not fair," Nick pouted in a joking way. I don't let him read my work, ever. Not until it's published.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said as I exited the room. I grabbed my coffee and went to my office, just the way I said I would.

My office is in our backyard, built from a medium sized shed. It has only one window, which faces the pond in our yard, away from our house. It's soundproofed, and my small escape from my everyday life. I sat tapping away at my computer, trying to get the excitement and thoughts of Andy and what he would do to me from my head. As I thought I was making progress I heard the door to my office open and shut abruptly. The blinds to my window were closed, darkness enveloping my office aside from my small desk lamp.

"Stand up to greet me," his gruff voice said. And so I did. Upon standing, he approached me and pushed me up against the wall, raising my leg against his hip. His hand was wrapped against my thigh, his thumb on the top of my leg, his hands gripping underneath. He pulled my lower body towards him and used his free hand to grip my chin. He raised my face to meet his and spoke.

"I am going to drop to my knees, and I am going to eat your pussy. You will not cum. Do you understand me?"

I thought about what happened in the kitchen, not daring to call him anything other than "Sir" so as not to be punished. Not when the reward is so sweet.

"Yes, Sir," I whispered.

He began to kiss down my chest, pulling the top of my dress down over my breasts. He swirled his tongue around my left nipple, squeezing hard around my entire boob. He pulled back and slapped it, hard. And then did the same to my right. He dragged himself down to his knees and lifted my dress. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, anxious for his tongue to make contact with my box. His hands forced my legs open, his face centimeters away from me.

"You're sopping fucking wet for me, you dirty fucking slut," He raised his right hand and slapped it against the folds of my pussy, causing me to flinch, causing me to quiver. He put his finger at my entrance, slowly, just entering me, and then he forcefully shoved his finger into me. I whined in pleasure, begging for more. "Please," I panted.

"Please?" He said. "Please, what?"

"Please, Sir. Please fuck me," I begged.

"Do you think I'm here for your pleasure? Do you think you are anything other than some dumb fucking slut for me to dump my cum into?" he shouted. He stood up to face me again and slapped me across the cheek. "Get on your knees, and please me. Now," he growled.

I dropped to my knees, looking up at his eyes. I undo his belt slowly and then undo his jeans as well. His cock springs forward and almost hits me in the face. It's big, really big, and thick. I wrap my hands around the bottom with still a good five inches left uncovered. I put my mouth around the head and begin to blow him. Sliding my tongue slowly, strategically around the head of his cock, and then sliding my mouth down, allowing as much of him as I can possibly take to enter my throat. Just when I think I am doing good, he grips my hair once again and starts to thrust in and out of my mouth. I gag as he shoves his cock all the way in my throat, tears well in my eyes. He continues his assault on my mouth as he reaches down and grabs my tit with another. He pinches my nipple hard, and I whimper around his cock.

"That's my good girl," he says in a voice that's almost romantic. He's moving faster, and his strokes begin to go deeper until he thrusts once finally, as deep as he can get. He grips my hair as he shoots his load of thick, hot cum down my throat and directly into my belly. I gag but swallow it all. Tears freely flowing down my cheeks now, he releases my hair and pulls out of my mouth. He grabbed my chin and pulled my gaze up to meet his.

"What do you say?" he said.

"Thank you, Sir," I reply, meekly.

He lightly slaps my face and said, "Good girl," and refastens his belt. "I'll see you tonight," he says. It isn't a request, it is an order.

"Yes, Sir."