Humping Her Husband (Swinging, Cuckqueen)

Would you sleep with your best friend's husband if she asked?

Chelsea meets her long-time best friend Beth at their normal coffee shop for the usual caffeine and chatting Saturday. The invite gave no indication that her friend had a massive, relationship-changing question to pose and it's only after until she sees Beth with deep, dark circles under her eyes does she realize something is different. Then she drops the bomb: "would you sleep with my husband for his birthday?".

Chelsea considers the ramifications of the question before accepting the offer. Beth's husband Luke isn't normally her type, but they've grown close over the years and she's always wondered what it would be like to feel all of his strength surging through his muscles as they got to know each other even more intimately. Besides, she may not always be attracted to the body-builder type, but what's the harm in trying it out at least once?

Luke's birthday dinner finally arrives after a long week of Chelsea agonizing the details–more often than not in the form of steamy fantasies–and now it's time to surprise Luke with the gift of his wife's best friend in any way he wants.

Warning: This ~11,700 word short story includes explicit language, graphic sex with vivid descriptions of sexual activity between consenting adults. This story is intended solely for mature audiences (18+ years old).

Excerpt:

She grabbed me by the shoulders and grinned. “Are you ready for this?”

I blinked, my nerves jostling around so much I thought they were going to make me explode. “Yes. As ready as I could be.” I forced a smile.

She moved one of her hands from my shoulder to my head, stroking my hair past my ear. “You’re going to do great, just relax. And remember, he loves dirty talk.” She winked as she backed away and left the room. I closed the door behind her out of habit and exhaled.

I stripped down out of my clothes so that all that I was left wearing was my lingerie and heels. After hours of deliberation I decided to keep my outfit simple: matching black bra, panties, garter, and stockings. It wasn’t going to win any fashion awards but I knew that he was a breast man so I purposely pulled out a bra that was too small for me, which made my already large boobs look insane by comparison. The sides of my chest ached with bruises and my nipples were nearly poking out but the torture-for-being-sexy was almost through. Beth left an oversized bow in the room, like a slightly smaller version of the ones used in the retch-worthy automobile Christmas commercials so I took it and placed it on top of my head. I was now officially a sex object wrapped in a bow.

The sliding door creaked open along its track, the screeching clang carrying through the house.

I waited.

The dog’s paws clopped against the wooden floor as their golden retriever ran around in doggy exuberance. Hours passed.

Time to get going.

I stepped into the hallway, each step casting my anxiety away, leaving a growing mountain of lust to fill me. The clacking of my heels became a distant sound as I stood up straighter and crossed into the dining room. Beth sat next to Luke, massaging his shoulder and smirking while his head hung limp with his eyes closed.

“Happy birthday, Luke,” I said, my voice layered sultry and low. He opened his eyes and his mouth dropped open.