I always thought Steph had a thing for me, but I wasn’t sure. Since she was married to my best friend, Joe, I never tried to test the waters. However, certain things she said and looks she would give me from time to time made me question how devoted she was to her husband. Joe and I spent a lot of time together. We were best friends; we did everything together. One time he told me that his wife commented on the amount of time we spend together, joking “I’m going to have to start dating Wesley so I can see my husband more often.” Not long after that, she took it a step further when I was at their house. She stated, “I’m going to have to start sleeping with Wesley so I can see Joe more often.” Joe took it as a joke, and I did too – at first. But I wondered if there was more to it.
Although we were best friends, we were frequently in competition with one another. We always tried to have a bigger this, or a better that. I got married two years after Joe and Steph did which inevitably turned into a competition. I nearly went bankrupt trying to ensure I had a more lavish wedding than Joe and Steph, I bought my wife a bigger diamond, and I knew my bride was hotter than Steph.
I considered myself a breast-man, and Samantha had great tits; Steph’s were small but perky. Samantha was tall and had long, shapely legs; Steph was short and petite – the type of girl you could stick in your pocket. Samantha wore a lot of makeup and spent hours primping her hair; Steph wore glasses and often kept her hair tied back in a ponytail. As I matured, I realized I preferred the subdued look to the sexy jaw-dropper.
Samantha was hot, but that’s about all she was. She had a great body and a pretty face, but we had little in common and fought frequently. Before I even said, “I do,” I didn’t believe our marriage would last very long. We fought a lot from the beginning, and I began to enjoy spending most of my time out of the house.
Luckily, Joe was still free to hang out, and Steph didn’t mind having me around or letting her husband go places with me. I suppose I became a little jealous of the relationship they had. While I strove to marry a girl who looked hotter than my friends’ wives, Joe married a girl who was compatible with his personality and supported him. And as my tastes changed, I began to prefer Steph’s looks to my wife’s.
Joe and Steph had a New Year’s Eve party at their house the following year. They had recently moved into a large extravagant house and were anxious to show it off. I pretended that I was not all that impressed, but jealousy boiled inside of me. I knew I made more money than Joe but I couldn’t afford a house like that. How could he? Then I remembered that Steph had a high-paying professional job as well, and their combined incomes allowed them such a pretentious home. I resented Samantha and her bullshit part-time restaurant job.
I tried to drink a lot, believing the alcohol would soothe my jealousy. Joe had a better house and a better wife. Making things worse, Steph looked particularly good that night. Her light brown hair flowed down the sides of her face. She wore a festive red button-up shirt and tight black slacks. I stood in the doorway to the kitchen as I waited for the path to the fridge to clear. I realized I was staring at Steph a little too long.
Joe laughed and said, “You’d better move before I kiss you.”
I was stunned by his comment, hoping he didn’t notice my gaze on his wife. Then he pointed to the top of the doorframe. Mistletoe hung a few inches above my head.
“Oh shit!” I laughed as I stepped into the kitchen and out from under the amorous symbol.
Other people around us laughed, including Steph. Her nose wrinkled when she smiled. Damn she was cute.
As midnight approached, I lamented the fact that I had no one to kiss when the ball dropped. Samantha had to work at the restaurant, serving drinks to revelers. Some part of me hoped to kiss someone else at midnight and use the amount of alcohol I consumed as an excuse. Unfortunately, all of the girls at the party were either married or with their boyfriends.
As I wallowed in self-pity staring off in space, I didn’t see Steph approaching until she was right in my face. She placed her tiny hands on each side of my face and pulled me toward her. She stood on her tiptoes as she leaned in for a kiss. I was completely shocked and immediately wondered if Joe was witnessing my lips pressing against his wife. I didn’t resist the kiss but barely kissed her back. I wasn’t sure what to do.
The kiss was more than a peck but it was over in less than two seconds. I opened my eyes and saw Steph gazing lovingly at me. I wanted to say something but I didn’t know what to say. I immediately realized that I had an erection.
Steph released my face and pointed to the doorframe above me. “Mistletoe,” she stated casually.
I nodded, still unable to speak.
Steph started to turn away but stopped herself. “You probably shouldn’t tell anyone about this,” she stated with little expression.
“Yeah,” I finally uttered. “I know at least two people who would get pissed about it.”
My wife and Steph’s husband certainly wouldn’t see the charm in our playful kiss under the mistletoe. Thankfully, Steph did.
She turned and walked away like nothing earth-shattering had just happened. I realized that no one else was nearby. Joe hadn’t seen, and for that I was grateful. When my erection subsided, I mingled with the crowd.
I spent the next hour talking with some friends and having a good time, but I couldn’t take my mind off of Steph and the kiss. It seemed like every time I turned my head, I would make eye contact with her. It startled me, and I would look away quickly.
I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted a longer, deeper, more passionate kiss. I would have given anything to be able to kiss her at midnight, but Joe’s presence would certainly preclude that.
The single guys and I decided to take shots at midnight. As I downed my liquor, my eyes landed on Joe and Steph with their lips locked. Steph opened her eyes and looked right at me. I looked away, pretending I hadn’t been staring.
Steph was not a heavy drinker but had been drinking nonstop since the party began. She was as drunk as I had ever seen her. Joe encouraged her to slow down but she refused. I hoped her intoxication would work in my favor.
Several people left right after midnight. Those of us who preferred not to go home stayed and drank more. There were only a handful of people left by 1 AM.
I didn’t want to go home to Samantha but I didn’t want to overstay my welcome either. Just as I was about to leave, Joe stopped me. He looked like he had something serious to talk to me about, which under the circumstances terrified me.
“Wesley, can you hang out for a bit? My friend, Kristen is really drunk and I need to drive her home. Can you watch Steph for me?”
I turned and looked at Steph who was slouched on the sofa. She looked back at me with a drunken grin.
“Watch her?” I joked. “Is she going to do a trick?”
Steph laughed but Joe remained serious. “She’s drunk as piss and she won’t go to bed. Just make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid, or choke on her own vomit or anything like that.”
“Alright,” I replied, trying to contain my enthusiasm.
“Thanks, man. Kristen lives close by. I won’t be gone long.”
I sat down in an easy chair across from Steph. I was tempted to sit next to her on the couch but thought that would be too obvious. I wasn’t sure what her intentions were but I didn’t want her to know mine.
I tried to make small talk with her for a few minutes but I’m sure my words were slurred. She wasn’t making much sense either.
Finally she looked at me and said, “I need to go to bed. Can you help me?”
She sounded so pitiful and cute. Even if I didn’t have devious intentions, I couldn’t turn her down.
I guided her from the couch through the kitchen. The stairway was in the hallway on the other side of the kitchen. But as we passed through the doorway, Steph stopped and grabbed me.
“Mistletoe!” she stated before pressing her lips against mine.
I wasn’t ready for it, but I seized the opportunity. I wrapped my arms around her back and held her tight against my body.
I hoped the kiss would last longer, but Steph pulled away after about thirty seconds. She didn’t make eye contact; she just staggered toward the stairs. She successfully ascended two steps, but then tripped and collapsed on the landing.
I jogged to her aid and helped lift her from the carpet. Once she was on her feet she began kissing me again. There was no mistletoe this time; she just wanted to kiss me. Obviously the infatuation was not one-sided.
As we kissed on the stairs, I got bold enough to slide my hand down to her ass. I gave it a light squeeze while our tongues began to dance. My cock was throbbing and I knew she was aware of it. She rubbed her body against it with small circular motions.
I was disappointed to feel her lips pull away, but aroused when I felt her sliding down my body. Her knees sank into the plush carpet and her hands gripped my hips for balance. She traced my erect cock with her fingers and then lowered my zipper. Pushing her hand inside, her delicate fingers gripped my cock. She released it from my jeans and looked at it with wide eyes.
“You’re bigger than Joe,” she stated with a breathy voice just before engulfing my cock in her mouth.
Every man loves to be complimented on his size. The fact that Joe’s wife told me my cock was bigger than his was immensely gratifying. I knew I had something that was better than his that he could never surpass.
I gazed at Steph as her wet lips glided up and down my engorged cock. She was pretty good at it, but I had the feeling she didn’t have a lot of practice. Nevertheless, I enjoyed every second of it.
After a few minutes, she let go and attempted to stand up. I steadied her when she nearly fell back against the wall.
“We need to get you upstairs… and naked,” I said, trying to make it sound like a joke.
Steph giggled and wrapped her arms around me. I guided her up the steps, finding it difficult to keep my own balance after so many drinks. When we reached the top of the stairs, she directed me to the master bedroom.
She sat down on the king-size bed. “Can you help me put on my PJs?” she pleaded.
I was discouraged that she wanted to put on pajamas rather than get naked with me. But it occurred to me that she didn’t really know what she was doing. She was obviously drunk out of her mind, and so was I.
Steph told me which drawer to look in and I found something resembling pajamas. When I turned back to Steph, she was unbuttoning the last button of her red shirt. Her black bra was clearly visible underneath.
“Do you need some help?” I asked, trying to be coy.
She dropped the shirt off of her shoulders. Her breast heaved upward as she arched her back. She unfastened her pants and asked me to help pull them off. I obliged without hesitation.
Her body covered only by a bra and panties was very sexy. I couldn’t wait to see the rest. I intentionally left my zipper open hoping she would return her attention to my cock. However, she seemed oblivious to just about everything.
Steph reached for her pajamas. I knew I needed to intervene before I lost my opportunity. I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. She paused, so I continued my advance. I kissed down her cheek and onto her neck, avoiding her lips which were tainted with the taste of my dick. I ran my hand around her back searching for the clasp that would release her bra.
I was never any good at that, so Steph eventually bailed me out and unfastened her bra. I massaged her breasts, and she flopped backward on the bed. I kissed from her neck down her chest and began sucking her nipples. She had nice tits – not as big as Samantha’s, but firm and nicely shaped.
That’s when I noticed Steph wasn’t moving. I looked up at her face; her eyes were closed. I was determined to have sex with Steph but I didn’t want to fuck an unconscious girl. I smacked her lightly on the cheek.
“Steph! Steph, wake up!” I called loudly.
Her eyes opened and her head rolled from side to side. I smiled and she smiled back.
I didn’t want to waste any more time and risk losing my opportunity. Grabbing the sides of her panties, I yanked them down her thighs. I couldn’t help but smile when I saw her pussy for the first time. It was mostly shaved with a small patch of short hair.
I skipped any further foreplay and pulled my pants off of my hips. Steph kicked her panties off of her ankles and opened her legs. I climbed on top and pushed my cock into her warm opening.
It was tighter than I expected. However, now that I knew Joe had a small cock, it was not surprising. I pulled back slightly, and then drove in deeper. Steph moaned a little, but I think her senses were too numb to feel much. I really didn’t care. I wasn’t doing this for her pleasure.
I fucked Steph for a while, loving every minute of it. I wasn’t sure how much of it she would remember in the morning, but I catalogued each aspect of our encounter, hoping I would recall vivid details. I noted her scent, the sounds she made, the taste of her nipples, the smooth texture of her skin, the feeling of her warm mouth on my cock, the sensation of pushing into her tight vagina.
I was so wrapped up in my own sensations and emotions, that I became oblivious to Steph. When I returned my focus to her, I noticed that her eyes were closed. Was she just feeling the passion? Or was she unconscious again?
I pretended not to notice for another minute or so, but soon it became too obvious to ignore. Steph had passed out. I wanted to ignore that fact and keep going until I finished, but even my depravity has limits. Besides, I didn’t know if Steph was on any birth control, and I didn’t want to leave a sticky mess behind as evidence.
I withdrew from Steph’s vagina and pulled my pants up. I pulled her body onto what I assumed was her side of the bed. I placed the pajamas beside her in an effort to make it look like she was getting ready for bed when she passed out. I hoped it would fool Joe.
Just then, I heard a noise outside. I peered out of the window and saw headlights in the driveway below. I ran out of the bedroom and down the stairs. I landed on the couch just before the door opened.
“Hey dude! Where’s Steph?” Joe asked.
“She went to bed a little while ago,” I answered, avoiding eye contact.
Joe stepped closer to me and spoke in a whispered tone. “Dude, I got a hummer from Kristen!”
My mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, she was drunk as shit and she went down on me when we got to her place. But you can’t tell Steph, okay?”
“Your secret is safe with me,” I responded with a smirk.
Any tinge of guilt I had instantly dissipated. While I was fucking his wife, he was out getting a blowjob from another married woman. That was probably the reason he volunteered to drive her home. Suddenly I felt justified.
The next time I hung out with Joe and Steph, it was a little awkward. I didn’t want to be too friendly with Steph and arouse suspicion, but I didn’t want to ignore her and piss her off. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was for interacting with a friend’s wife after having drunken adulterous sex.
I sat in an easy chair while Joe and his wife sat on their couch. Later Joe went to the bathroom, leaving me alone in the living room with his wife.
Steph whispered, “Sorry I passed out on you the other night.”
I smiled inwardly and shrugged my shoulders. “No big deal. Does Joe suspect anything?”
Steph shook her head. Our secret was safe. I had been wondering how much of that night she remembered; obviously she remembered enough.
Joe returned from the bathroom and sat next to Steph. She cuddled against him like a devoted wife. As far as Joe knew, he was the only one who committed adultery that night. Steph would never know what he did; he would never know what we did; my wife was completely in the dark. I was the only one who knew the whole truth. That’s the way it would stay.
I always thought Steph had a thing for me, but I wasn’t sure. Since she was married to my best friend, Joe, I never tried to test the waters. However, certain things she said and looks she would give me from time to time made me question how devoted she was to her husband.
Joe and I spent a lot of time together. We were best friends; we did everything together. One time he told me that his wife commented on the amount of time we spend together, joking “I’m going to have to start dating Wesley so I can see my husband more often.” Not long after that, she took it a step further when I was at their house. She stated, “I’m going to have to start sleeping with Wesley so I can see Joe more often.” Joe took it as a joke, and I did too – at first. But I wondered if there was more to it.
[ click the corners to turn the pages ]