I Slept with My Best Friend’s Mature Boyfriend
There are decisions you make in a matter of seconds that weigh on you for years afterward. Mine was like that: quick, unexpected, and hotter than almost anything. It happened only once, was never repeated, and even today, whenever I remember it, my mouth goes dry and my pussy gets wet at the same time. I’m going to tell it exactly as it happened, without embellishment, because the truth is much dirtier than anything I could invent.
The man’s name was Esteban, although in my mind he was always “Lucía’s boyfriend.” He was considerably older than we were, a man in his mid-forties, strong-willed, the kind who walks into a room and makes everyone lower their voices a little. Before he started dating my best friend, he had pursued me. Nothing ever happened between us, but the tension had always been there, latent, like an ember no one quite dared to step on.
When he started going out with Lucía, I found out late, almost by accident, on one of those nights when the three of us went out together. They were strange dates: the two of them becoming more and more serious, while I always ended the evening with some stranger and they went home together. I pretended not to notice, but every so often Esteban’s gaze would cross the table to me, and I let it.
***
Lucía’s birthday changed everything. She rented the common room in her building, put up lights, started an endless playlist, and bought far too much alcohol. The party went perfectly: we danced, played those pre-party games that always end in half-confessions, and drank much more than we should have. Esteban did too, and the alcohol loosened his tongue.
He started whispering comments in my ear, taking advantage of the noise and the bodies pressed together on the dance floor, speaking so quietly that no one nearby could hear.
“You look good enough to eat,” he told me, brushing my waist as he passed. “I’ve always liked your body, you know that. I’ve been imagining fucking you for months.”
“Stop right there,” I replied, pushing his hand away. “You’re Lucía’s boyfriend. Are you crazy? Do you want me to tell her?”
“Tell me you don’t like hearing me say it,” he insisted, without moving an inch away. “You used to love it. And I never got the chance to put it in you, you know?”
That exchange kept echoing in my head for the rest of the night. I’m a piece of shit for thinking about this, I kept telling myself, and still I couldn’t stop looking at him. When we danced, I let his hand slide down to the cleft of my ass, and only occasionally moved it away, more out of habit than conviction. During one turn I felt his rock-hard bulge pressed against me through my dress, and a sigh escaped me that he heard perfectly well.
The early hours of the morning gradually left the two of us alone. The guests said their goodbyes one by one, until only Lucía, Esteban, and I remained in the room. My friend had drunk so much that she fell asleep in an armchair, defeated, still holding her glass. Esteban carefully carried her to the apartment and put her to bed. I stayed behind alone, quite drunk, my heart pounding against my ribs, my panties soaked, and those words circling in my mind like an echo that wouldn’t fade.
***
I thought he would take a while to come back, that he would go to bed with her and that would be the end of the night. I was wrong. He came back a few minutes later, and he came back without a stitch of clothing.
I lost my breath. He stood in the doorway, completely self-assured, his cock already swollen and thick, pointing upward, with heavy balls swinging as he walked. He looked at me like a man who already knew how the story would end.
“She’s asleep. She won’t wake up until noon,” he said calmly. “If you want to tell her, tell her. I’ll accept the consequences. But if you don’t, this stays between us. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for months, and this is the only night we’re going to have.”
I should have stood up. I should have grabbed my purse and left. Instead I stayed sitting there, staring at his cock, with a horniness I hadn’t felt in years rising through my stomach and traveling straight down to my pussy. The part of me that knew right from wrong had already lost the argument.
I dropped to my knees without saying a word. I grabbed his cock with both hands, surprised by how hot and hard it was, and ran my tongue from his balls to the tip, slowly, savoring every inch. He let his breath out slowly when I finally took him into my mouth, and I gave myself over to it as if I’d been waiting for it for weeks. I sucked him slowly at first, taking him as far as I could, pulling him out with a strand of saliva hanging from my chin, my eyes fixed on his.
I licked his balls one at a time, put them in my mouth while continuing to jerk him with my hand, and he had to brace himself against the wall to keep from falling. I went back to his cock, and this time I sucked it mercilessly, swallowing him down to my throat, letting my eyes fill with tears and my chin with spit. From time to time I let him go only to speak softly to him, the tip brushing my swollen lips.
“You can’t tell Lucía anything,” I murmured, spitting onto his cock and spreading the saliva over it with my hand. “She doesn’t suck you like this, does she?”
“No,” he replied in a broken voice, one hand tangled in my hair and the other pushing my head down. “No one has ever sucked me like you. You’re a fucking bitch; you suck like a goddess.”
That confession set me on fire. I took him all the way into my mouth again, tightened my lips, and started moving quickly, letting him fuck my mouth at his own pace, feeling the tip strike the back of my throat. I heard him hold back a moan, felt his legs tremble and the veins in his cock pulse against my tongue, and realized I had absolute control over this man who commanded respect in any other context. I pulled his cock from my mouth abruptly, gave the dripping tip a wet kiss, looked up at him from below, and he understood that it was his turn.
He lifted me almost off the floor, tore my dress over my head, and left me in panties with no bra. He bent down and sucked one whole breast, biting my nipple just hard enough to make me cover my mouth with my hand. Then he ripped off my soaked panties and threw them on the floor. He tossed me onto the living-room couch, the same one where his girlfriend had been sleeping minutes earlier. He opened my legs with both hands, unhurriedly, as if he had all the time in the world, and lowered his head.
I was already dripping—I had been all night—and when his tongue found my pussy lips, I arched my back and bit my hand to keep quiet. He licked me slowly, from bottom to top, spreading my lips with his fingers and burying his tongue inside, sucking my clitoris with his lips as if it were a ripe fruit. He pushed two fingers inside me and curled them while continuing to suck my clitoris, and I felt a first orgasm tremble through my legs almost immediately.
“Slowly,” I begged in a whisper, smothering my moan. “You’ll wake her.”
“For someone who said she didn’t want it,” he replied against my skin, his chin shining with my juices, “you’re dripping like a bitch. You’re terrible.”
“Yes,” I admitted, without an ounce of shame, grabbing him by the hair and pushing his face against my pussy. “I’m a bad friend. But tonight is mine. Keep sucking me, don’t stop.”
He ate my pussy until I came in his mouth for the second time, squeezing his head between my thighs, biting my forearm so I wouldn’t howl. When he raised his face, his entire beard was shining, and the bastard’s smile finally melted me.
***
There was no more foreplay. He settled over me, ran the tip of his cock over the lips of my soaked pussy a couple of times, teasing me, then drove into me in a single thrust, all the way to the hilt, and I had to press my lips together to keep from screaming. He was big, thicker and longer than I had imagined during all those months of fantasizing about him, and I felt him open me completely. The pain of the first few seconds immediately turned into something that completely clouded my mind.
“Slower,” I asked through my teeth, even though my body was begging him to do the opposite.
“I don’t want to go slowly,” he said, and began fucking me hard, burying his cock to the balls with every thrust, with the confidence of a man who knew what he was doing. “I waited too long for this. I’m going to fuck you properly.”
The couch creaked beneath our bodies, and I dug my nails into his shoulders, biting my lip whenever a moan threatened to escape. He grabbed both my legs and put them over his shoulders, folding me in half, and that let him penetrate even deeper. Every thrust of his hips knocked the air out of me. I could feel his balls striking my ass with every stroke, wet with my own juices.
The thought of Lucía sleeping a few feet away, oblivious to everything, didn’t stop me—it turned me on even more. It was horrible and I knew it, and precisely for that reason I couldn’t stop. Every time I thought of her asleep on the other side of the wall, my pussy tightened around his cock and he let out a muffled growl.
“You’re so much better than she is,” he told me in my ear, breathless, without stopping his thrusts. “You’re tighter, you get wetter, you suck better. I’ve been imagining this for months.”
“Shut up,” I replied, pulling his hair and deliberately squeezing my pussy around his cock. “Don’t say her name. Tonight it’s me, only me. Fuck me harder.”
We changed positions several times, trying to make as little noise as possible, restraining ourselves like two teenagers afraid of being caught. He sat me astride him, and I rode his cock slowly, circling my hips, while his hands squeezed my tits and his teeth sank into my neck. Then he put me face down on the couch and climbed on top of me, the weight of his whole body over mine, fucking me at an angle that made me see stars every time he hit bottom.
That restraint made everything more intense: every swallowed moan, every measured movement, every time we froze after hearing a creak from the apartment and looked at each other with our hearts in our throats before continuing to fuck like two silent animals.
When I felt he was close, when his cock swelled even more inside me, I stopped him with one hand against his chest.
“Not yet,” I told him, panting. “I want you to finish somewhere else.”
I turned around, got on all fours, bracing myself against the back of the couch, and showed him my ass, spreading one cheek with my hand so he could see exactly what I was offering him. I had never offered it to anyone the first time. He understood the message, and a hoarse groan escaped him.
“Lucía never let me put it there,” he murmured, almost incredulously, stroking my back and sliding his hand down to my ass.
“I’m not Lucía,” I replied, looking at him over my shoulder. “Spit on it and put it in me.”
He spat into his hand, coated my hole thoroughly, and pushed one finger in first, then two, slowly loosening me while his other hand kept rubbing my dripping clitoris. When he pressed the tip of his cock against my ass and began to push, he entered slowly, very slowly, and the pain and pleasure mingled in a way that made me bite the cushion to keep from screaming. He advanced patiently, inch by inch, attentive to every reaction of mine, and when I finally had him completely inside me, his balls pressed against my pussy, I let go, surrendering to a sensation that ran through my entire body and made me forget where I was and who I was with.
“You’re killing me,” I told him in a broken voice, gripping the back of the couch with both hands. “Keep going, don’t stop. Fuck my ass properly.”
He didn’t stop. He began to move, carefully at first, then faster and faster, gripping my hips and pulling me backward so he could drive in to the base with every thrust. He filled my pussy with two fingers while fucking my ass, and I felt a third orgasm rise from my legs and explode in my head, so strong that my vision blurred. I screamed into the cushion, muffled, my whole body trembling.
He didn’t take long to finish either. He pulled out at the last moment, threw me onto my back, and spilled a quantity of hot cum over my back and ass that ran down my sides, holding me by the hips, muffling his own moan against my nape so he wouldn’t wake the woman sleeping on the other side of the wall. I felt every pulse of his cock emptying over my skin and bit my lips to keep from moaning too.
***
Afterward we lay there, both of us panting, staring at the ceiling of the wrecked room. My back was sticky, the couch was stained, and my clothes were scattered across the floor. We barely said anything. I cleaned myself as best I could with a napkin, gathered my clothes in silence, got dressed without panties—that pair stayed in a corner, no longer dry—and left before dawn had fully broken, my legs trembling, my ass burning, and a strange mixture of guilt and satisfaction I didn’t know where to put.
The next day Lucía messaged me, hungover and happy. She asked me how my night had ended. I lied without batting an eye: I told her I had left with Tomás, one of the friends who had stopped by the party early.
“Haha, good for you,” she replied. “That’s how it’s done. You have to enjoy yourself, friend, that’s the only thing that matters. You have to take advantage whenever you can.”
If you only knew that your boyfriend fucked me on your couch last night while you slept right next to us, I thought, and hated myself a little for the smile that appeared on my face by itself.
What still turns me on the most is that Esteban and Lucía are still together. They look happy. No one suspects a thing, and that secret was buried between the two of us, in a dawn that never happened again and that neither of us ever dared mention.
I’m not proud of what I did. I was disloyal, selfish, exactly the kind of friend no one ever wants to have. But I’d be lying if I said I regret it completely. There’s a part of me, the darkest part, the one that only appears in the early hours of the morning and after a few too many drinks, that would get down on my knees again without thinking, suck him off again, and let him put it wherever he wanted. And that part, I confess, is the one most like me.
