This was the craziest night of my life. Here I am, on my back, looking up at James, my husband’s best friend. James is smiling down at me while thrusting his big cock and in and out of me, and it feels amazing, so fulfilling, so thick. I smile back at him devilishly, not just because he’s fucking me so good, but because my husband was lying next to us on the same bed, a drunk mess, completely passed out.

I Can’t Believe I Fucked My Husband’s Friend

How did we get here?

Well, James and my husband had been friends for a few years now, living in the same neighborhood. James was a few years younger than my husband, the same age as me. He was stocky and thick, a man’s man. In fact, my husband looked quite meek compared to him. I would always try to hide my smile when I would see James shake my husband’s hand with a firm handshake – my husband shook hands delicately, so the physicality between them was quite the contrast. The idea of my husband being inferior to such an alpha male – who was his buddy, no less – was always the last thought I had upon reaching an orgasm when masturbating.

It didn’t help that James was good-looking, too. In a masculine way, without trying to be. No product, no trendy clothing. He was just himself, genuine. James was a physical, hands-on kind of guy, the total opposite of my husband. He also had an intimidating stare – sometimes I would catch my husband look away whenever James raised one of his arched eyebrows at him, something that always made me a little wet.

The more I got to know James, the less sex I had with my husband, who was completely oblivious to my crush on his best friend. When we did have sex, my eyes would be closed, imagining Big James on top of me instead of my little husband. The more I fantasized about James, the more those fantasies involved James kicking my husband’s ass. I would get wet each time I visualized James bullying my husband around, to the point where I was squirting thinking about James fucking me right in front of the man I was married to.

With James’ thick body, I had a feeling he had a big dick. He started to notice I was paying a lot of attention to him, although I was hardly doing a good job of being discreet about it. James wasn’t uncomfortable with the way I looked at him. In fact, when he would catch me checking him out, he returned my look with that smirk of a smile he had. Paired with his arched eyebrows, Big James just looked like trouble waiting to happen. Trouble I really wanted.

My Husband Saw My Legs Quiver When His Best Friend Told Him How Big His Tool Was

One day, James noticed my legs quiver when he said the following sentence to my husband, upon being asked about the size of his hammer:

“It’s big, buddy.” He said to my husband while looking at me.
“How big?” My husband asked, oblivious to the innuendo.
“Huge,” James said, winking at me while flashing his killer smile. “You’ll need two hands to hold it.”

I got so wet without touching myself. My husband asked if I was okay, seeing my legs wobble. I could see James laughing to himself, knowing what he had just done to my body without laying a finger on me.

James and I started to talk more when the three of us were out with other friends. It got comfortable enough for James to ask my husband for my number. I got wet when my husband told me that. I visualized James with a cocky look on his face as he asked for the number of his buddy’s girl.

I was really excited about where this was all going. My excitement for James was proving to be more important than my devotion to my own husband.

We were at a friend’s party, and I was sitting on James’ lap while we were all in a circle. James and I became friendly enough that seeing us together did not trigger any alarms for my husband, although all our friends could see the sexual chemistry between us. My husband was shit-faced, making a fool of himself with asinine jokes and comments. Frankly, I was embarrassed to be seen with him. But James turned lemons into lemonade, whispering in my ear that we could go upstairs to his friend’s bedroom if I wanted to.

I Want to Cheat on My Husband With His Best Friend
For more pics in this series see “Mile High Media“.

A classy, married woman would have slapped him on the spot. That’s what I would have normally done until I met James. I matched his bold suggestion by getting up, grabbing his big, catcher’s mitt-sized hand and leading him right to his friend’s bedroom. The party was busy enough that our walk together was inconspicuous, although a lot of James’ friends saw us go up, making gestures that men do. At that moment, I really didn’t care. I knew my husband didn’t see us, and that his friends wouldn’t let him cock-block James if he woke up.

Just as James approached me, his lips an inch away from mine, the host of the party walked in tell us that my husband was throwing up all over his deck.

James looked pissed. Though not intentionally, my husband found a way to cock-block him.
We did the right thing and took my husband home – he was bumming everyone out at the party. James aggressively threw my husband’s rag-doll body into his backseat. He smiled an evil grin when I started caressing his crotch as he drove. Neither one of us looked in the backseat to see if the drunk was watching.

Hearing my husband snore, I told James all the feelings I had for him. I told him about my orgasms thinking about his big dick, my fantasies of him slapping my husband around right in front of me, even the firm handshake difference. James had a smile on his face the entire time I confessed my sexual obsession to him, and told me he was going to make my dreams cum true that night. My husband’s best friend had me right where he wanted me.

With Him Asleep Beside Us, I Fucked My Husband’s Best Friend

We carried my husband into our apartment, throwing him horizontally on the vertical bed. I hugged James and apologized for the evening, but James cut me off with a kiss. Just like that, at long last, James’ thick lips were touching mine. James then pushed me to the bed with the tip of his fingers. He ripped my skirt off aggressively with one hand without even breaking a sweat, like he was ripping a paper towel. His strength was so foreign to me and only made me wetter.

I lay on my back beside my husband as James motioned towards me, unbuckling his belt, smirking once again. Getting on top of me, I gasped and moaned as I felt his thick finger slide into my tight but very wet pussy. James smiled victoriously at how wet he was making me. His thumb started rubbing my clit, and I started convulsing, cumming on his big thumb and thick index finger. With my head back, James adjusted himself, and just like that, his beer-can girth of a cock was trying to find its way inside me. When I told him how full I felt, his reply made me cum.

“I just stuck the head in so far, babe,” James said looking down at me, victoriously and triumphantly as the drunken fool I was married to snored beside us both.

James exhaled as his weight rested on mine. He thrust into me slowly at first before accelerating his movement. I was wet enough for him to slide at least 3/4 of his girth into my pussy. We weren’t wasting time, we had the bed shaking and rocking within a minute. This was going to be a quick power fuck, and I was fine with that. We both just needed it to happen. I wrapped my legs around James’ ass, who’s pants and boxer shorts were yanked down to his ankles. His Adidas running shoes were still on his feet, that’s how quickly this progressed. James ripped my blouse off with one hand and I pulled off his t-shirt. I could smell James’ body heat as he buried his face between my big tits.

“This is what it’s like to be with a real man,” I thought to myself.

James was grinning as I came all over his thick cock, a grin that got wider with each orgasm he gave me. My reaction told him I never came like that with my husband.

After about ten minutes of us in the same position, I watched James pull out of me and stroke his dick. His finger and thumb replacing his cock inside of me, and just by thumbing my clit, I reached another orgasm. He brought me to orgasm with his thumb – his thumb! My poor husband couldn’t make me cum with his dick, but his best friend could make me reach multiple orgasms with the girth of his thumb.

And then the unthinkable happened.

It was James’ turn to cum, something I saw was imminent once his breathing got heavier and faster. He grabbed the base of his thick shaft and began pumping splurges of cum everywhere. The first few shots landed on the closet doors over my head, other ropes of jizz spewed out on the lampshade. The third wave landed all over my tits, covering them. But the fourth wave of cumshots…well…

James’ cum shot far enough to land on my husband’s face, covering up half of his lips. There was enough of a load to dribble down his chin and down his neck.

I was in shock. James was in shock. We both expected my husband to wake up, our mouths wide open. This is the part where we are supposed to get caught!

But that didn’t happen. My husband slept right through the facial he took from his best friend’s big cock. My husband was so inebriated that he didn’t even know he had another man’s cum dripping down his face. I’m not sure what should have been more humiliating for him – his best friend’s semen dripping down his sleeping face, or his wife cuckolding him on the same bed he was sleeping in.

James and I were covering up our own mouths to stop ourselves from laughing loud enough to wake my husband.

“What a chump.” James chuckled, looking down at his best friend’s cum-covered face.

As James got to his feet, pulled his jeans up and buckled his pants, my husband started to awaken from his drunken sleep. As his eyes opened, all he could see was James smirking down at him and giving him a thumbs-up after adjusting his zipper and pulling his t-shirt down. Sensing movement over his shoulder, my husband looked up and saw me, a guilty look on my face. I was unable to conceal my grin though. I couldn’t believe what I had done. I fucked my husband’s friend, and he was totally oblivious to it.

“How…did I get here?” My husband asked, trying to get up, disoriented. “And why are your clothes on the floor honey? Shit…I think I was drooling…”

James and I made eye contact and smiled as my husband wiped off what he thought was drool from the side of his mouth. He looked embarrassed and apologized to James.

“I must have been a mess at that party, eh?” My husband said. “Thanks for taking me home, man.”

“No problem,” James replied with a wink. “I’m glad I was there to do it.”