Straight Female / 36
My Friend
I cheated on my husband with my friend. It wasn't intentional. My friend is a woman and I am straight yet we had sex. I am 36, been married eight years. Had many boyfriends prior to dating my husband. I'm no stranger to sexual exploration but had never been interested in women, wasn't even curious as I started exploring with older boys when I was still pretty young. I even had a few threesomes in my early twenties with other woman involved but anything I did with a girl was to entertain the guy. Just girl to girl kissing and some boob ply, a little touching but no real action.
Once my husband and I became serious, that was it for sex with other people for both of us. I had no desire for anything more that loving sex with him. I had gotten all the other stuff out of my system.
We have two children. Like many couple, our children have changed our lives dramatically. Very little time for ourselves, so much responsibility, very little relaxation or fun. And very little sex and even less intimacy. I found it was the intimacy I missed. Far more than the sex. Getting off in mechanical fashion left me so unsatisfied, so lonely.
My friend is 28. She married and moved into the neighborhood with her husband and a son from a previous relationship the Summer before Covid. Got to know her and we were friendly but not yet friends. Covid locked us in. The first let up was such a relief and a release. She invited us over and then we invited them over and we became close. Our husbands chat and watch sports together when we get together but that's rare. It's mostly she and I just getting together for play dates, wine, fun.
She confided her dissatisfaction. No sex at home, loneliness, unfulfilled. It was like listening to myself. I told her my problems, she told me hers. We shared our secrets. We began close.
Our hubbies took the kids out for the night to a truck show. My friend and I took the opportunity to dress sexy and hit a bar. We enjoyed the attention of men, some flirting, some free drinks, some propositions but we had no intention of cheating with anyone. It was just a great night out.
Back to her place, more wine, losing our inhibitions, the guys still a few hours out and we entered drunk talk stage. We told each other how important we were to each other, how we needed each other, some hugs, some chaste kisses, then one of her kisses lingered. Really lingered. Then more lingering kisses and her hands on me.
She kissed again, opening her mouth slightly. I felt the wetness of her tongue and I responded, parting my lips. Her hands felt so good on my body just lightly caressing me and we began to kiss in earnest. Our kissing became fierce. Deep Franch kissing, her hands moving to my breasts, squeezing, massaging, my hardened nipples easy to find, light pinches tingling my pussy, wetness starting.
I think I was so starved for intimacy that her being my friend and a woman was irrelevant. Simply fucking some guy from the car would have done nothing but give me brief physical relief and a boost to me ego but would have led to terrible guilt and grief. Being with her was an act of love. It trigged something inside of me and I lost control. We both did.
I needed to please her. To satisfy her. I was desperate to see her body, to taste her. And she was the same. We stripped each other. Licked and sucked each other's nipples, she moved between my legs and gave me pleasure like I'd never known before. I found out later she is bi-sexual and I was not her first go round.
After she made me orgasm, I felt an overwhelming need to expose her pussy, to see it in all in glory, up close, to touch it, pleasure it and yes to taste it, my god to taste it. I removed her panties, slowly drawing her pussy into view. I was so nervous but so excited to see it. She has a long slit with barely visible labia and she glistened. She touched herself, rubbed her clit and spread her lips and I froze, staring. I'd never like how my own pussy looks, never found any pussy to be attractive but I stared at her's, it was beautiful.
I trembled as I moved towards it, towards it wetness. I could smell her excitement, my own pussy was starting to ache even though I had just cum. I had to touch myself to lesson the ache as I opened my mouth and kissed her mound, I closed my eyes and let my tongue explore her folds, sucking on her lips, found her clit. I lashed her clit, savored it but more than that I loved how she reacted to what I was doing. Her moans, her squirms, her hands running through my hair, hold my head when she started to grind her hips. When she came, it was a triumph. I had my her cum. A woman. It was as if I'd attained some great accomplishment. Based on our talks, her husband had never given her this kind of pleasure and my husband had stopped giving me oral long ago,
It was a secret pleasure we had given each other. We can't share this with anyone.
We've been together many times since. At first, I needed wine to bring on the mindset but recently I stopped by her house and was struck with an overwhelming need to take her and make her cum. I took her right in her kitchen, No wine, no kissing, just me dropping to my knees, pulling off her leggings and attacking her pussy until she came. She loved it.
I fear it's becoming to easy now. I still have no desire to be with women. Just her. I consider myself strait but when it comes to her, I'm jelly. We fill each other's gaps which gets us through our daily lives. We are careful. If we get caught, I don't know what will happen but I am not ashamed and I don't feel guilty. I'm happy. She's happy. Our husbands are happy. Life is good.
Once my husband and I became serious, that was it for sex with other people for both of us. I had no desire for anything more that loving sex with him. I had gotten all the other stuff out of my system.
We have two children. Like many couple, our children have changed our lives dramatically. Very little time for ourselves, so much responsibility, very little relaxation or fun. And very little sex and even less intimacy. I found it was the intimacy I missed. Far more than the sex. Getting off in mechanical fashion left me so unsatisfied, so lonely.
My friend is 28. She married and moved into the neighborhood with her husband and a son from a previous relationship the Summer before Covid. Got to know her and we were friendly but not yet friends. Covid locked us in. The first let up was such a relief and a release. She invited us over and then we invited them over and we became close. Our husbands chat and watch sports together when we get together but that's rare. It's mostly she and I just getting together for play dates, wine, fun.
She confided her dissatisfaction. No sex at home, loneliness, unfulfilled. It was like listening to myself. I told her my problems, she told me hers. We shared our secrets. We began close.
Our hubbies took the kids out for the night to a truck show. My friend and I took the opportunity to dress sexy and hit a bar. We enjoyed the attention of men, some flirting, some free drinks, some propositions but we had no intention of cheating with anyone. It was just a great night out.
Back to her place, more wine, losing our inhibitions, the guys still a few hours out and we entered drunk talk stage. We told each other how important we were to each other, how we needed each other, some hugs, some chaste kisses, then one of her kisses lingered. Really lingered. Then more lingering kisses and her hands on me.
She kissed again, opening her mouth slightly. I felt the wetness of her tongue and I responded, parting my lips. Her hands felt so good on my body just lightly caressing me and we began to kiss in earnest. Our kissing became fierce. Deep Franch kissing, her hands moving to my breasts, squeezing, massaging, my hardened nipples easy to find, light pinches tingling my pussy, wetness starting.
I think I was so starved for intimacy that her being my friend and a woman was irrelevant. Simply fucking some guy from the car would have done nothing but give me brief physical relief and a boost to me ego but would have led to terrible guilt and grief. Being with her was an act of love. It trigged something inside of me and I lost control. We both did.
I needed to please her. To satisfy her. I was desperate to see her body, to taste her. And she was the same. We stripped each other. Licked and sucked each other's nipples, she moved between my legs and gave me pleasure like I'd never known before. I found out later she is bi-sexual and I was not her first go round.
After she made me orgasm, I felt an overwhelming need to expose her pussy, to see it in all in glory, up close, to touch it, pleasure it and yes to taste it, my god to taste it. I removed her panties, slowly drawing her pussy into view. I was so nervous but so excited to see it. She has a long slit with barely visible labia and she glistened. She touched herself, rubbed her clit and spread her lips and I froze, staring. I'd never like how my own pussy looks, never found any pussy to be attractive but I stared at her's, it was beautiful.
I trembled as I moved towards it, towards it wetness. I could smell her excitement, my own pussy was starting to ache even though I had just cum. I had to touch myself to lesson the ache as I opened my mouth and kissed her mound, I closed my eyes and let my tongue explore her folds, sucking on her lips, found her clit. I lashed her clit, savored it but more than that I loved how she reacted to what I was doing. Her moans, her squirms, her hands running through my hair, hold my head when she started to grind her hips. When she came, it was a triumph. I had my her cum. A woman. It was as if I'd attained some great accomplishment. Based on our talks, her husband had never given her this kind of pleasure and my husband had stopped giving me oral long ago,
It was a secret pleasure we had given each other. We can't share this with anyone.
We've been together many times since. At first, I needed wine to bring on the mindset but recently I stopped by her house and was struck with an overwhelming need to take her and make her cum. I took her right in her kitchen, No wine, no kissing, just me dropping to my knees, pulling off her leggings and attacking her pussy until she came. She loved it.
I fear it's becoming to easy now. I still have no desire to be with women. Just her. I consider myself strait but when it comes to her, I'm jelly. We fill each other's gaps which gets us through our daily lives. We are careful. If we get caught, I don't know what will happen but I am not ashamed and I don't feel guilty. I'm happy. She's happy. Our husbands are happy. Life is good.
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