Her Husband, His Friend, Her Mouth

“Got the beer you asked for,” Dave said as I opened the apartment door for him.

That smile — that gorgeous smile — hit me the second he stepped inside. Dave was in his forties, tall, broad-shouldered, his workouts written in the way his shirt clung to his chest and arms. He was taller than both me and Jacob, my husband. And though I’d never dared to admit it aloud, I’d always found him dangerously attractive.

I shouldn’t have. Dave was Jacob’s colleague first, then his friend. But want doesn’t bow to reason, and my body had always reacted to him in ways I tried hard to hide.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite partner in crime,” Jacob said, coming down the hallway and clapping Dave into a hug, the kind of easy embrace men use when they’re close. He took the bottles from Dave and carried them to the table.

My little secret wasn’t as hidden as I liked to pretend. Jacob had seen my browsing history before. He’d noticed the string of videos and stories — late-night searches for things he couldn’t give me. BBC. Not the broadcasting company. The other kind.

When he’d asked me about it, I’d been honest. Sometimes I craved more, something he couldn’t provide. Instead of shame or jealousy, he’d given me understanding, even support. That was Jacob’s way, and it was one of the many reasons I loved him.

We settled into our usual Friday night routine. Every week, one of us was responsible for the beer, and tonight it was Dave’s turn. Next week would be mine. Despite the fact that we were no longer in our twenties — me thirty, Jacob thirty-five, Dave a few years older — we kept to our tradition: gaming nights on the Xbox, racing one another with the same competitive edge we always had.

The apartment filled with shouts and laughter as we threw items on-screen, accusing each other of cheating, cursing bad luck with power-ups, even giving each other the occasional shove to sway the outcome. None of us liked to lose, but until tonight, none of us had ever dared to make the games mean more than bragging rights.

That changed when Jacob leaned back with a bottle in his hand, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“We should bet on something,” he said.

Dave arched an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Something that’s…” Jacob mused, glancing at me with a look that made my stomach flip. “Something… interesting. What if we bet on something sexual?”

My eyes widened. My first thought was that he must be drunk, but Jacob was steady, clear-eyed, far from even tipsy. He was completely serious.

If Dave hadn’t been sitting right there, I would’ve snapped at Jacob for even suggesting it. I hated the idea of him with another woman — Dave’s wife, for example, made my blood boil to even imagine. But me with Dave… that was different. That was a risk that tempted me in ways I couldn’t ignore.

Jacob’s gaze on me was knowing. He was thinking of my unspoken craving, the secret fantasy he’d seen in my searches. My mouth watered at the thought before a word was even said.

“What if I win?” I asked softly.

“Then you get to satisfy that fantasy of yours — ” Jacob began.

“Jacob!” I cut him off quickly, heat rushing to my cheeks. The last thing I needed was Dave hearing exactly how much time I’d spent craving the kind of manhood I suspected was hiding in his jeans. “Fine,” I muttered instead.

Dave leaned forward, his eyes dark and curious. “Then it’s settled.”

The controllers were back in our hands, but the air was thicker now, charged with something none of us dared name aloud.

I focused hard, throwing every trick and power-up I could manage. If Jacob thought I would give him an even chance at this, he was wrong. I wanted Dave to win. Needed him to.

Laps blurred by. Three in total, every corner tighter, every boost more desperate than the last. My pulse matched the on-screen chaos, and when the race ended, the final scoreboard lit up like destiny itself.

Dave: first place.
Me: second.
Jacob: third.

A silence fell for a moment, broken only by the hum of the Xbox fan.

“You know what that means,” Dave said at last, looking at Jacob, then turning his gaze to me.

Jacob sighed, but his mouth curved into something between a smirk and a grimace. “A deal’s a deal.”

I felt pinned between them — Jacob on the couch, Dave beside me on the sofa. The tension prickled down my skin.

Dave’s voice dropped low, smooth and teasing. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask for much. Just a little lick here, a little suck there…”

“You want me to blow you?” My voice trembled more from arousal than nerves.

“If Donna ever finds out,” Dave murmured, “she won’t hate me too much for it.”

Jealousy twisted inside me at the thought of his wife. I shoved it aside. Right now, it was me here on this sofa, not her.

Heat pooled between my legs as I pushed myself off the cushion and sank to my knees in front of him. The bulge in his jeans left nothing to the imagination, straining against the denim. I rubbed my hand slowly over it, and his breath caught.

I tugged his pants down, and my suspicion was confirmed in one breathtaking moment — his cock sprang free, thick and heavy, darker than the rest of his skin, every inch of him exuding raw masculinity.

Compared to Jacob’s average length, Dave was massive. A fantasy made flesh. My fantasy.

I glanced over my shoulder. Jacob watched intently, already stroking himself through his jeans. The hunger in his eyes sent a thrill through me — my husband, turned on by watching me with another man.

I looked back at Dave. Our eyes locked as I leaned forward, wrapped my hand around him, and guided the blunt tip toward my lips.

The first taste made me groan, low and hungry.

I opened my mouth and welcomed him in. Just the head at first, thick and swollen, stretching my lips wide. My jaw ached almost immediately, but the ache only made me wetter.

Dave’s hand slid into my hair, guiding me down another inch. I gagged softly, the sound raw in the quiet room, and his grip tightened.

“God…” he breathed, low and rough.

I stroked the length I couldn’t fit yet, my fingers working in time with the bob of my head. His cock filled both my hand and my mouth, hot and slick as I swirled my tongue under the crown. Every taste of him was salt, sweat, and pure man.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Jacob watching, his chest rising fast, one hand rubbing himself hard through his jeans. He smirked at me when our eyes met, and the sight only pushed me deeper into Dave’s lap.

I swallowed more of him, inch by inch, until I had half of him inside. My throat protested, but lust drowned it out. I pulled back with a wet gasp, then dove down again, faster, hungrier.

The noises filled the room — slurps, chokes, Dave’s sharp groans, my own muffled moans vibrating against his shaft. He was already leaking, salty beads smearing my tongue.

“Take it,” he growled, thrusting his hips just enough to make me choke. “Fuck… that mouth.”

I obeyed, gripping his thighs for balance as I let him use me. My hand pumped the base, while my lips stretched around the rest. My throat burned, but I didn’t stop. I wanted all of him, wanted to drown in the size, power, sheer wrongness of what we were doing.

Suddenly his breath hitched, his muscles tense. “I’m close — fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“You can finish in her mouth,” Jacob said from the couch, voice thick with arousal. He was stroking himself openly now, eyes locked on me. “I want to see it.”

The words sent a thrill through me, filthy and exhilarating. I pushed down until the head of Dave’s cock hit the back of my throat, and then he erupted.

Hot, thick streams of cum poured down my throat. I coughed, choked, but I didn’t pull away. I held there, swallowed greedily, letting it flood me. When I finally pulled back, the last drops smeared across my tongue — bitter, musky, intoxicating.

I licked my lips, wiped my mouth, and looked up at him. His chest heaved, eyes half-lidded, a man undone.

I climbed back onto the sofa, flushed and trembled, and grabbed my controller again like nothing had happened. Dave tugged his pants up quickly, still catching his breath.

“Wow… that was — ” he began.

“Hot,” Jacob finished for him, his voice ragged.

I didn’t answer. I just started another race. This time, Dave lost badly — third place by a mile. Not that anyone cared. We all knew the real competition had already been won.

At least for that night.