MY BEST SEX EVER WAS… with my friend’s fi­ancé

This for­bid­den fruit was just too good to re­sist

Cosmopolitan (UK) - - Contents -

“He turned up in a taxi and asked, ‘Is this re­ally wrong?’”

My friend An­nie’s* hus­band, Mark, is one of those guys that ev­ery­one likes. Men think he’s a great guy and women like him be­cause he’s re­ally at­ten­tive. He’ll al­ways take time to com­pli­ment you on a new out­fit or make sure your wine glass is topped up. The truth is I had al­ways har­boured a se­cret crush on him, but An­nie was my friend, so I was de­lighted for her when they got en­gaged.

The prob­lem was, when­ever we were out in a group, I would al­ways do what I could to en­sure I was near him. Even af­ter the en­gage­ment.

They were plan­ning their wed­ding when An­nie men­tioned that she was look­ing for empty jars to make dec­o­ra­tions with. I’m a bit of a hoarder, and had a box full of them, so she ar­ranged for Mark to pick them up a few weeks later.

Rather than hand the box straight over, I in­vited him in and we chat­ted. He was like a cute puppy, all smi­ley and ex­citable, and made me feel like he was thrilled to see me. He stayed for a cup of tea and stood re­ally close to me in my kitchen, his green eyes barely mov­ing from mine. When he reached over and touched my arm in con­ver­sa­tion, let­ting it linger for a sec­ond or two, I couldn’t help but think my feel­ings might be mu­tual. He kissed my cheek when he left and I’d have been putty in his hands if he’d made a move.

I as­sumed it was some harm­less flirt­ing, so I was sur­prised when he texted me a cou­ple of weeks later. “Are you out with An­nie?” he said. An­nie was with some friends I didn’t know, so im­me­di­ately I could tell it was a ruse. I replied, “No, just tucked up at home.” And then the flirt­ing went up a notch. He asked me what I was do­ing. Then what I was wear­ing. Be­fore I knew it, I’d in­vited him round.

He turned up in a taxi, stepped in­side and asked,“Is this re­ally wrong?” Coyly, I replied, “Well, yes.” And then, just like that, we started kiss­ing. He pushed me up against the wall and I could in­stantly feel his erec­tion.

I poured us a drink for some Dutch courage and we went up­stairs. Once in the bed­room, we stood to­gether, pulling at each other’s clothes. I couldn’t re­mem­ber be­ing so phys­i­cally into some­one. He was quite force­ful, in a sexy way, and slammed his body against mine, then slid his fin­ger in­side me. The fact he’d come here specif­i­cally for this made me feel amaz­ing. He pushed me onto the bed and roughly spread my legs, be­fore tak­ing his tongue be­tween them and work­ing me up to the point where I ac­tu­ally squealed and pulled him up on top of me.

I guided him in­side and he po­si­tioned him­self over me so he could pull him­self in and out slowly while he looked down at the ac­tion. I usu­ally find it re­ally hard to cli­max through pen­e­tra­tion, but not this time. He col­lapsed, grin­ning, and we had a bit of an awk­ward gig­gle be­fore he got dressed and darted off as quickly as he’d ar­rived. He sent me a text an hour later say­ing,‘That was im­mense.’ The wed­ding went ahead and I turned up, as nor­mal – it would have been odd if I hadn’t. Did I feel guilty? Yes, but not enough to stop think­ing that if the chance came up, I’d do it again.

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