I’ve always been attracted to my best friend’s husband. Since my sex life with my own husband is pretty terrible, I’ve been flirting with and fantasizing about him. This is the story I wrote after saying goodbye to him in my skimpy pjs one morning after I slept over at their house.
She came down the stairs eager for her last few moments of touch, knowing this would have to be enough to hold her off until the next time. Moving quickly down the last few steps, her large breasts swollen from the pregnancy moved under her tight tank top like liquid. Rounding the corner she saw he was already at the door, ready to leave. She hoped he noticed her hard nipples poking through her shirt in anticipation, her long legs moving swiftly in the short shorts she always wore to bed, especially when she knew she’d see him.
She moved in for the embrace, and he opened his arms immediately. Maybe he had been waiting for her, maybe he wanted to feel her as much as she wanted to feel him, she didn’t know. All she knew was that she needed him in that moment and he readily complied.
She pressed herself up against him. Felt her breasts push up against his chest, trying to get as close as possible. His hands found her back and he rubbed her slowly. Each spot he touched tingled with enjoyment, she longed for his hands to explore further and send the sensation everywhere. As he gently caressed her, she buried her face into his chest, breathing him in. The scent of him was intoxicating, a flood of memories associated with that smell overcame her and she felt the familiar warmth grow deep in her belly. A monster had awoken, and she desperately wanted to feed it.
After another minute of the soft stroking, trying to drink up every last possible moment of contact, they broke apart. He had to leave, they both knew it, but he saw the fire burning in her eyes and knew what it meant. In a last desperate attempt, she offered to let him feel her tummy, to say goodbye to the babies. He accepted, and she placed his hand high up on her belly, so that his thumb was grazing the bottom of her plump breasts. He saw that she closed her eyes in pleasure.
There was so little that they could do safely. They could be caught at any moment. Seeing her reaction to his touch, he decided to hazard going a little further, wanting just as much to give in and supply her with that pleasure she so desperately craved. His thumb moved slowly a little higher. He began to graze her nipple lightly, gently moving back and forth. It instantly grew under his touch. He felt her excitement pushing through the thin material and looked up to see the expression of ardent hunger on her face. Her heart began to race and her chest began to heave under his touch as she leaned into him and stifled the moan just behind her lips.
This small gesture, so insignificant and almost innocent had sent her reeling. As the heat began to radiate out from where his thumb was stroking her, she felt the familiar wetness start between her thighs. Her breathing was heavy. With her eyes closed she was lost in a world of pleasure, totally surrendering to the forbidden touch. Her knees began to feel week, she started to become aware of the the wet patch growing in her panties. She yearned to reach out for him. Wanting to feel his hardness, wanting to take him in her hand and stroke him the way he was stroking her. She felt like she might burst from the wanting. She opened her eyes and saw the desire burning in his too. Suddenly they heard footsteps on the stairs, and hastily broke apart. Both assuming the well-practiced appearance of normalcy, as if absolutely nothing was amiss.
She knew she’d be going upstairs soon, reliving the forbidden exchange as she brought herself to climax, and she hoped that later he’d be doing the same.