My Wife’s Best Friend_(1)

Ever since I’d met Melissa at the local community college six years before, I’d known she had a crush on me. Back then, I was twenty-six and she was eighteen. I’d only been married to Natalie for a year and, well, I’ve always gotten along better with the ladies than the guys, so I’d developed a friendship with Melissa. She’d make a point of constantly flirting with me, brushing up against me, staring into my eyes without blinking, the common things. When she found out I was married she seemed disappointed, making a comment about how “the good ones are always taken.” But she didn’t stop her flirtations. She even made sure that we were in the same classes together the following semester.

I probably should have done something to stop the girl, of course, but I was rather flattered. Here was this young woman with long, blonde hair and a nice tight figure, acting as if she wanted ME of all people. Melissa was as tall as me, thin as a rail, with long legs and small breasts. Her blue eyes were strikingly piercing, as if they could look into your soul, and her smile, framed by full, kissable lips, was worth every joke I told her.

Beyond how she looked, she was fun to hang out with. We had much more in common than my wife and I did, and I remember wishing Melissa had come along a couple of years earlier. Things were already rocky between Natalie and me.

Time passed, and both Melissa and I had to drop out of the community college for various reasons. We kept in touch via Facebook, however, sometimes chatting for hours, and she would often talk about the two boys she was seriously dating off and on.

As I said, things between my wife and I were not well, including our sex life. Sometimes, when I actually convinced Natalie to have sex and she was laying under me, letting me have her body but no more, I would imagine that it was Melissa that I was screwing. Or sometimes I’d imagine that Melissa was watching us from across the room, masturbating, commenting on how she loved watching my dick slide in and out of my wife’s pussy and how she liked the sound of my balls hitting the other woman’s crotch. That would sometimes get me off even FASTER than imagining having sex with Melissa.

Most often, though, I’d find myself sitting on the toilet, jacking off to Melissa’s Facebook photos on my phone, imagining her encouraging me on, or giving me a hand or blow job. When I came into a small roll of toilet paper, gasping, I’d stare into whatever picture had made me do it that particular time, again wishing that this girl had come into my life just a little sooner.

As chance would have it, Melissa and Natalie ended up meeting a few years later (through me, of course), and they became friends. I’ve always suspected that a reason for this was that Melissa wanted to be near me, even though by this time she, too, had just been married.

I remember the first time Melissa and I saw each other in person again. She looked almost identical; a little less skinny, with most of her weight having been added to her hips and her breasts, and her hair now coming only to her shoulders. I, being me, really DID look identical to five years earlier; average height, dark hair, and blue eyes covered with glasses.

Melissa came up to me and, smiling, just hugged me, pressing her chest up against mine, letting her husband and my wife watch in awkward silence. My penis throbbed at the contact, but I acted as if this was normal, and the rest of the night wasn’t as strange.

The four of us got together quite often after that, and it always seemed there would be at least one incident each time that we did to remind me that Melissa had the hots for me. Sometimes she’d bend over to give me a wonderful view of her cleavage, just long enough for me to realize it wasn’t an accident. At other times, she’d bend over the other way, giving me a nice view of her butt. Whenever we had to give something to each other, we’d do the “finger linger,” where she’d let her hand stay on mine for just a little too long. She’d brush her butt or breasts against me, ever so lightly, when she’d had plenty of room to pass by without doing so. Once, when I was handing my dog over to her, she took him AND my hand and pressed it up against her chest so tight that I could feel her heartbeat. I can still feel the warmth of that soft flesh under my hand. She looked me in the eyes and smiled broadly while we just stayed that way for several seconds, and then I slowly removed my hand, letting it caress her breast. I’m not sure, but I think she moaned.

Once, Natalie came to me and told me she had a secret she needed to tell me about Melissa, but that I had to promise never to tell her friend that my wife had told me. I promised. Melissa had confided to Natalie that she “used” to have a HUGE crush on me back when we’d first met and that Natalie was lucky to have me. It turns out that Steven, Melissa’s husband, was addicted to pornography. When Natalie had suggested that the guy get counseling, Melissa explained that she didn’t think that was necessary, as she herself had been addicted to pornography when she was a young teenager but had gotten over it. Natalie had been shocked and, when she asked what kind of pornography she used to look at, Melissa had told her that she still looked at it on occasion but that she wasn’t addicted anymore. And she’d told Natalie that she looks at all kinds, but mostly just the “straight-up” stuff, although she was liking orgies more and more.

Of course, my wife had no idea that I looked at pornography on a regular basis. That night, I watched an orgy myself, imagining what it would be like if Melissa was there watching with me. I came in no time.

Shortly after that, I decided to test my wife’s new best friend. The next time she came over, Melissa came to our house by herself, as Steven had to work. Natalie, Melissa and I talked for a while, and then I got up, explaining I had to use the restroom. After I’d shut the door, I unzipped my pants, took out my already-hardening penis, and yanked it several times. It didn’t take long to get the thing as hard as a rock. Wondering if I really had the balls to do what I was planning, I put my penis back into my pants and gingerly pushed it down, making it tent the fabric up quite noticeably. When I draped my shirt over the area, however, it was hardly obvious at all. Perfect.

Walking back out, I realized that I should have pretended to wash my hands, but it was too late for that. I was shaking a little, but other than that I felt ready to do this.

“That was fast,” Natalie said, not even looking at me.

I shrugged and sat down on my recliner, which happened to be across from the couch, where Melissa sat. The girl wore a tight blue shirt that accentuated her young breasts quite well. I could see the outline of her bra against the smooth fabric. Her legs were covered by black leggings and boots that met a short, denim skirt about mid-thigh. The leggings had a run in them on the inner, left leg, and a large hole showed her entire right knee. I figured that these tears were intentional.

My wife sat on the loveseat, which was unfortunately also somewhat opposite of me. The bulge in my pants felt VERY noticeable, but with my shirt in front of it neither of the women had seemed to notice. I really DIDN’T want Natalie to see it. I figured that would only cause questions.

We continued small talking for a while, my hard penis throbbing, wanting to be moved. Finally, Natalie mentioned that she needed to start making the dinner she had in mind. I usually cooked, but when we had company my wife wanted to make it look as if SHE was the one who did anything domestic. My heart raced as I realized that I was about to have my chance.

“How’s Steven’s school work doing?” Natalie asked, as she went into the kitchen. I quickly rearranged my shirt and cocked up one knee as Melissa’s eyes followed my wife.

“It’s been doing okay,” Melissa said. “He really likes his math class. I know. Weird.”

They both giggled. I looked down and verified that the tent in my pants was VERY obvious. All Melissa would need to do was look at the general area and she’d see. My heart pounded so hard I could hardly hear what the girls were saying.

“Ugh, I HATE math.” This from Natalie.

“I don’t HATE it necessary, but it isn’t my…” Melissa’s words died on her mouth and I saw her eyes lock on my crotch. I remember thinking how it hadn’t taken the girl long to find what I wanted her to see. Her already pale face went as white as a sheet for a few seconds, and then it went bright red as she continued speaking, biting her lip. “Yeah, it’s definitely not my favorite.” She seemed to realize what she was saying and that she was staring at my penis as she said it and quickly added, “but it really isn’t bad at all.”

Her eyes were stilled glued on my penis. I had the urge to adjust the thing, but I didn’t. I just let the girl stare. She slowly raised her own long left leg so her foot was resting next to her butt cheek on the couch, an innocent move had she not been wearing a rather short skirt.

Of course, she was also wearing black leggings. But still, the message was obvious. Then Melissa spread her right leg a fraction of an inch and it was MORE than a little obvious.

The run on the inside of the left legging went all the way up to the crotch. From my vantage point, I could see a sliver of white where her panties showed through.

I swallowed and felt the color drain from my OWN face. Melissa’s was still a bright red, but she had a musing little smile on her lips. She was looking from the run on her left leg to my penis and back again, over and over. It was hard to tell, but I think that her breathing had sped up. I know mine had. And my heart was still pounding like I was running a marathon.

Meanwhile, Natalie had been speaking in the kitchen.

“Natalie, you KNOW I’ll eat whatever you make,” Melissa said. “We could even just have sandwiches.” She had stuck a finger in the run of her leggings and was running it up and down the bare part of her leg.

“But I WANT to make you that lasagna I was talking about!” Natalie was rattling around in one of the cupboards searching for something. Suddenly, her head was poking around the corner. “You guys wouldn’t mind if I ran to the store really quick, would you?”

My leg came down so fast that I think I bruised myself, and I quickly adjusted my shirt. Melissa’s legs came together audibly, and the finger that had been so sexily tracing out the run in her legging was now brushing back some of her hair. Both of us were looking at the floor guiltily.

I don’t think Natalie noticed a thing.

“No, I wouldn’t mind,” I said automatically. Usually I would have volunteered to go myself, but I was too frazzled.

“Me neither, if you insist,” Melissa said. I looked up for a moment and saw that the girl was still blushing furiously. I think if she’d been thinking clearly, she probably would have offered to go with Natalie, rather than staying here with me, alone.

Natalie probably would have thought of that, too, but she was obviously worried about getting the dinner just right. She grabbed her set of keys and her purse and was heading out the door in a less than a minute.

“I promise I’ll be back soon. I’m just getting a few things for the dinner. Love you Brian! Love you Melissa! Bye!”

After the door forcefully shut and the garage door began to open, I looked over at Melissa.

“Sooo….” she said, smacking her lips and looking around awkwardly. The car started and drove out and the garage door shut again.

“Anything you want to do?” I asked after what seemed to be an eternity, but was probably only a half-minute. “Want to start a show? Or play a game?”

“Oh, hey! You like the Sims, don’t you?” Melissa uncrossed her legs and scooted forward, suddenly excited. She even clapped her hands.

When I’d asked if she wanted to play a game, I meant more like on the Wii, or Xbox 360, or maybe a board game.