Your Friend Fucked Me

I strode into the living room still flushed from the afternoon, my blouse clinging to my skin. Ryan glanced up from his laptop with that familiar half-smile. "Long day?" he asked. I dropped my bag and met his gaze squarely. "Your friend fucked me," I said, the words landing like a spark. His eyebrows shot up. "Who, Mark?" The question hung there, thick with surprise and something hotter. I crossed my arms, refusing to soften the blow. "Yes, Mark. And before you ask, it was exactly what I wanted."

Ryan set the laptop aside, his voice low but steady. "You expect me to believe that just happened?" I laughed, sharp and unapologetic. "Believe it or don't. He was at the gallery opening, all charm and that cocky grin. We talked art for ten minutes before the tension snapped." My husband shifted, intrigued despite himself. "And you just... let him?" I stepped closer, owning every inch of the moment. "I took him. Strong women don't wait for permission, Ryan."

The memory pulled me back as I spoke. Mark had cornered me by the sculpture exhibit, his eyes raking over me. "Your husband's friend shouldn't be thinking what I'm thinking," he murmured. I tilted my head, matching his wit. "Then stop thinking and do something about it. Or are you all talk?" His hand brushed my waist, testing. "You're trouble," he said. "The best kind," I replied, already feeling the heat build between us.

We slipped into the back hallway, the party's hum fading. Mark pressed me against the wall, but I pushed back, gripping his shirt. "Don't think you're in charge here," I warned with a grin. He chuckled, voice husky. "Wouldn't dream of it." His mouth found mine, hungry, and I bit his lip in return. Hands roamed, my fingers tracing the hard line of his cock through his pants. "Already this eager?" I teased. He groaned, "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

Clothes came off in a rush of fabric and panting breaths. I dropped to my knees first, taking his cock in my mouth for a slow, deliberate blowjob that left him swearing. "Fuck, you're good at that," he panted. I looked up, eyes gleaming. "I know." He pulled me up, spinning me so my ass pressed against him. I reached back, guiding him. "Condom," I demanded. He complied, then thrust into my wet pussy, filling me deep.

We moved together, sweating and urgent against the wall. "Harder," I ordered, my voice dripping with command. Mark obliged, his hands on my hips as he drove in. "Your pussy feels incredible," he growled. I laughed between moans. "Told you I wasn't submissive." He reached around, fingers circling my clit until I came hard, clenching around him. He followed seconds later, cum spilling as we both shuddered.

Afterward, we straightened up, the witty banter resuming. "This stays between us?" Mark asked, wiping his brow. I adjusted my skirt, smirking. "For now. But secrets like this have a way of spilling." He kissed my neck once more. "You're dangerous." I walked out first, leaving him wanting more. Back home, Ryan's stare pulled me to the present.

"So that's it?" he asked, voice thick. I straddled his lap, feeling him harden beneath me. "Not even close," I whispered. "Mark's not the only one who gets a turn." The air crackled with new possibilities as I leaned in. But little did Ryan know, Mark had already texted for round two.