My Best Friend's Wife - Sex Stories

My Best Friend's Wife

... removed it. She had me crying 'uncle' after ten minutes but I hung in and lasted the whole two hours of the competition. That was one hell of an endurance feat that not just anyone could have accomplished. That is the simple reason why I worked out at the gym religiously.

She liked being naked so I would meet her during the day, thank god for long lunch breaks, at the nude beach and give her a little mouth to mouth resuscitation, with the mail truck parked in the parking area at the beach. My explanation was I liked to eat lunch at the beach, which of course I did but it wasn't a sandwich. On one of the days there I was just about back to the truck when a lady came rushing up and wanted to buy stamps.

I never diluted myself into thinking I was the only one. She even reported gleefully on the phone who she'd just shagged as her husband worked in the yard. And at the college where we both attended night classes and rode to class together, she would show up at my class each break and want to "go home." Which meant she wanted to go park and strip down to nothing and canoodle on the front seat of my car, climb over my legs and lower her middle parts down on mine and wedge me in.

I was always terrified we'd be apprehended by the brown suited highway patrol and carted off to the steel-barred hotel naked and in handcuffs. We never were, but the threat kept me mostly soft and trembling. One night before leaving the college we slipped into the empty football stadium and ...

... fornicated on the fifty yard line. Her dress was still on but pulled up to her waist and her legs wrapped around me in a death grip of passion.

Right in the middle of a noteworthy orgasm, the lights of the stadium came on and the sound of one lone observer clapping echoed through the empty arena. A grounds keeper with a sense of humor and the light switch decided to put us on display to an audience of one. "Way to go man," could be heard echoing through the stands as he cheered us on. She pulled me out, bowed to the maintenance person, and pulled her dress down, stepped into her panties and led me to my car. I had never come before in front of 30,000 empty seats and one lone night watchman.

We actually laughed all the way to her house. That was the night she revealed to her husband that we had been fucking after, instead of, or during our night school classes. She got up on the couch and berated me for still having my clothes on so we could perform for her cuckolded husband. She came over playfully and began undoing my belt, unzipping my pants, and pulling them down as I cowered in the corner, not knowing if he was going to watch us or shoot us.

He watched. And she coaxed me into fucking her on the floor in front of her traumatized husband. When we finished she pacified him by sucking him off while I mounted her again from behind, kneeling next to the couch. They argued about whether she could suck me after she did him.

"It is okay," he said. "You can suck him if you ...