Bestfriend to sexfriend
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My Mother's Married Best Friend free porn video
“I fucking hate weddings.”
Shocked and embarrassed, I didn’t reply.
“Give them a year and they won’t be so, lovey-dovey.”
I looked for a way to escape. The room was early-evening busy, and people were starting to show signs of wear and tear. We were the only two still sitting at the table. It was a wreck. Confetti, glasses, empty bottles of wine, and used coffee cups showed the tail-end of the wedding breakfast as a crew of young people rushed to get the place tidy. It was the lull between the meal and evening entertainment, and I’d been surprised to find myself alone with Barbara. Not that there was anything wrong with her. I thought she was very attractive. She had the sexy older lady thing going on: pretty, white-blonde hair, a dress which showed off the deep crease of her cleavage, squeezing the inner flanks of her breasts together in a way which had been drawing my eyes during the meal.
Too polite to just get up and walk away, I stayed where I was, hoping an excuse would present itself so I could get clear of Barbara.
“You’re quite good-looking you know.”
I heard her say it but took a few seconds to register what Barbara had said.
I could feel the blush rising when Barbara added, “That suit looks good. You’ve really grown up.”
All I could manage was, “Oh,” because I had nothing else to say.
Barbara chuckled and rolled her eyes. “God, don’t tell me you’re one of those shy ones.”
With the heat in my face, I blurted, “I’m sorry.”
Disquiet curdled in the pit of my stomach when Barbara, after a glance around the room, shifted her seat so we were in our own little bubble.
“You don’t need to be shy with me,” she said on a murmur. Her tone was low, conspiratorial to match the slyness behind her eyes. “I’ve known you forever. Since you were little.”
It wasn’t unpleasant at all, but I felt a ripple of unease when Barbara place her hand over mine. I looked down and saw her manicured nails, rings on the third finger of her left hand and, for a reason I couldn’t fathom in the moment, my cock started to thicken and grow.
“You know I could quite fancy you in that suit,” Barbara breathed, leaning close.
I couldn’t stop myself from taking a quick look at her breasts, desire yawning deep within as I wondered what they might look like when she set them free. Then, when I looked at her face, I knew she’d caught me looking.
Barbara smirked, eyebrows arching. “Jason,” she drawled, “are you looking at my tits?”
The heat in my cheeks flared, and I knew they must be glowing while mortification squeezed at my guts. “No … I’m sorry … I didn’t mean…” I babbled.
Barbara’s hand squeezed mine. “Don’t be such a silly boy,” she said through her smile. “Why do you think I’m wearing this dress? I want people to look. I don’t mind at all.”
It was all kinds of wrong. Barbara was married. Her husband was somewhere in the flux of people moving around the room. She was also at least twenty-five years older than me and had known my mother since they were at school together.
Cranking up my anxiety, Barbara moved in even closer. She was right up against me, her thigh against mine, body angled so I could see down the dress all the way to her navel it seemed to me.
“If you like, Jason,” Barbara breathed, “I’ll show you my boobs.”
Carnal desire slipped from its moorings, floating inside me while my cock pulsed and seeped goo. Somehow, with my libido raging, I managed to find some morality within. “I … I don’t know,” I stammered. “Mister Jennings--”
At the mention of her husband, Barbara scoffed. She waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t bother,” she said, cutting me off. “Forget him. He doesn’t matter.”
A pretty girl in black and white came to the table. She asked, “Okay to clear this away?”
To which Barbara nodded. “Yes, dear, of course,” she said before looking at me. “Jason,” Barbara added. “Let’s go.”
I stood up when Barbara left her seat. There was no conscious decision about it. I was just following Barbara’s instruction.
As we weaved through groups of people, I asked, “Where are we going?”
Barbara didn’t turn as she spoke. “You’ll see,” she called back.
A few seconds later we were in the long corridor, the hubbub in the hallway muted as Barbara strode along with determined purpose.
“But this is the Ladies,” I said, aghast.
Barbara stopped, a hand on the door. She glanced back along the route we’d come, turning her head to check the opposite way. “Yes, I know,” she said, pushing the door. “Now. Quick. Inside.”
When I hesitated, Barbara pulled me in by my tie. She laughed when I gasped, “What are you doing?”
Leading me to a cubicle, Barbara said, “Don’t ask questions, Jason. Do go with it, sweetie. Perhaps you’ll like it.”
Astounded by the possibilities, I said, “I don’t believe it. This isn’t real.”
Through a chuckle, Barbara said, “It’s real, Jason.”
By then we were in the stall, my mind awhirl with conflicting impressions because this I didn’t recognise this version of Barbara. I knew her as my mother’s bright, vivacious, friend. I knew Barbara could be a flirt, She was capable of teasing with a smile and mild innuendo, but what I was experiencing that afternoon at my brother’s wedding went off the scale and, despite knowing where we were and what was going on, and with whom it was happening, the reality couldn’t penetrate my skull. My mind refused to accept the truth like a pea bouncing off a coconut.
“But you’re Barbara,” I said.
Barbara reached around me to slide the lock across the door. “Yes,” she said, “I’m Barbara. Well done, Jason.”
As I blurted out an astonished, “But…” Barbara scooped one breast from her dress.
“Don’t make so much noise,” Barbara warned as I boggled. She lifted the second rounded orb from within, exposing herself to my slack-jawed stare. “We have to be quiet.”
While I gawked in amazement, Barbara moved in. She hooked her arms around my neck, and I saw she was grinning when my eyes went from her boobs to her face.
I nodded and gurgled some ridiculous sound when Barbara asked, “Surprised?”
“Just go with it,” she breathed, mouth coming to mine.
The contact galvanised me. The touch of her lips and her tongue sliding into my mouth flicked a switch and swept the b**st along on a rush of lust and desire. With that kiss, I groaned and grabbed for Barbara’s breasts. I kneaded their firm-spongy texture, tongue writhing with Barbara’s as she moaned and pressed tighter against me, rubbing herself against my thigh.
“That’s the way,” Barbara gasped when the kiss broke. “Now you’re going with it, Jason.”
“Fuck,” I groaned, hands on her breasts. “Your tits … Shit, I knew they’d be…”
Then we were kissing again, my hands on Barbara, desire desperate and urgent, her fingers down at my buttons and flies.
While her fingers were busy, Barbara asked, “Like them, do you?”
“Fantastic,” I said, my throat tight with my need.
“Let me get your cock out,” Barbara said as we fumbled and groped.
Emboldened by my libido’s response, I growled, “I want to fuck you.”
Barbara’s hand was inside my trousers, hauling my hard-on free of its confines. She stroked my length, murmuring her appreciation, her heels click-clacking on the tiles as she moved around and shifted position. “That’s the idea,” she said, fist working my dick. “I want you to fuck me.”
She said it and then kissed me again, passion flaring while her hand squeezed at my root.
I returned the kiss and lifted her dress, eager to get at her cunt. All the history between us had vanished. My mother’s married best friend was a sexy, desirable, fantasy woman, and I didn’t care about anything else other than getting my dick inside her.
“Don’t tear my knickers,” Barbara gasped. “I’ll need them. Here,” she added, pushing me away. I felt the cubicle door at my back, my attention set on where Barbara was sliding the tight dress up around her waist, one hand yanking at her underwear, breasts shivering and swaying. “Let me take them off,” Barbara finished.
“Fuck,” I said when I saw her vulva.
With her dress ruched around her waist, Barbara looked at me. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
I nodded, gazing at the precise triangle at the apex of her slit. “I never thought…” I shut up, silenced by the aesthetic appeal of Barbara’s body, hold-up stocking on her legs, long muscles in her thighs lean and pleasing to the eye.
Barbara winced as she slid a finger through her sex, my eyes drawn to the purple tail dangling from her opening. She gasped and moaned, eyes on my face when I looked at her and, with need in her voice, Barbara asked, “What didn’t you think?”
I looked down to where the thing protruding from her body. I asked, “What’s that?”
I watched enthralled when Barbara pulled at the tail, and egg-shaped object slipping free of her body. “It vibrates inside me,” she said. “Remote control. Lovely toy. I’ve come three times this afternoon.”
I gawked, amazed as Barbara placed the purple egg in the nest of her knickers which she had placed on the cistern.
“So,” Barbara said, “what didn’t you think?”
I gulped, stroking my cock, eyes all over her body. “This,” I croaked. “You.”
While I watched, weight of my dangling jaw vague at the back of my mind, Barbara caressed her own breasts, feline stare set upon me, the smirk on her lips. “Didn’t think I’d be dirty like this?”
I gulped and shook my head.
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” Barbara went on. She sighed and fingered her pussy, eyes glazing over.
I watched, excitement inside me, my hand on my dick.
“Come on,” Barbara said as she reached for my cock. She stroked my length, moving so she could get one spiked-heel shoe on the toilet seat. “We haven’t got long,” Barbara added, splaying her folds.
Desire and disbelief swirled in my stomach when I looked down and saw she was guiding my dick to her body. I shuffled in close, trousers slipping down to my knees as I went. I gasped when Barbara mushed the cock-head through her vulva, her own gasp slipping out when the bulb slipped over her clit.
“Fucking in the loo,” Barbara said through a whisper, eyes on my face.
Then we were kissing, my hands all over her tits, the molten embrace hot around my girth when Barbara slid me inside.
“Just fuck me,” Barbara insisted, her fingers gripping my buttocks. She slobbered another kiss against my mouth, mewling and groaning as we moved together, her need urgent in the way she thrust her cunt over my cock. “Come when you want to,” Barbara mumbled, her perfume wafting in the air around us. “Just fuck me like you’re wanking into my twat. Use it like you don’t give a fuck about me. I’m just here for sex. I’m a nasty bitch, Jason. Stretch me with your cock.”
It shocked me to hear the obscenities coming from Barbara. Layer on layer of surprises had me dazed. It was seeing her breasts, her vulva, and the realisation Barbara was a lot more than the casual flirt she’d always seemed. It stunned me to hear her talk the filthy talk, her cunt squelching around my dick as we faced each other, rutting in our dishabille.
“This is mental, Barbara,” I said with a groan. I was thrusting into her body, palm sliding over the velvet skin of her thigh, fingers moving to the slightly rougher texture of her stocking as she worked herself onto my dick.
“Don’t talk, just fuck.” Barbara grunted it out, face twisted with effort, her shoes pecking the floor as we struggled together in the small space.
At her instruction, I shut up, concentrating on the pleasure of Barbara’s body as we rutted through our lust. I held her waist, leaning back so I could watch her pussy taking my cock. When I saw the shaft greasy with Barbara’s essence, the surge bubbled down in my root.
“Fucking gorgeous,” I groaned, hands on her breasts.
“You like me?”
I nodded, gasping, “I like you a lot.”
While we worked at each other, Barbara grimaced and sobbed out, “It feels like you like me a lot. God, I’m so fucking ready for you.”
I looked into her face and saw her tortured expression, the same feeling shifting inside me. “I know, I can feel it down there.”
Barbara took her hand away from the cubicle wall where she was braced for support. Then she sandwiched my face between her palms, stare locked with mine. “Don’t let me fall,” she said before kissing me with passion and heat.
I held her waist, using the leverage to pull her down onto my cock. I could feel her cunt gripping my girth, the tightness of it down near my balls. “I can’t get any more in,” I moaned.
Barbara gulped and nodded. “It’s deep,” she said.
A moment later, fear flashed through me. The main door to the toilet sucked open accompanied by female voices.
As soon a she heard it, Barbara froze. I was still inside her up to my balls, her waist in my hands. When I looked at her, Barbara shook her head, lips compressed. I didn’t know if she meant I should keep quiet, stop moving, or both, but whatever her expression was telling me, she needn’t have worried. I was scared shitless, anxious that we’d be caught, appalled at the potential aftermath of being found up to my nuts inside my mother’s married best friend.
The two women chattered about the wedding. They talked about the bride’s dress and how lovely she looked, one of them rattling the door.
“Taken,” Barbara called.
“Oops, sorry, love,” the woman replied.
With my heart bouncing around like a startled bird inside the cage of my ribs, I listened to the sounds of the two women choosing a cubicle each as they talked back-and-forth through the divide. I wasn’t listening to a word because Barbara, obviously more used to the situation, had started to slowly move over my cock.
When I looked at her, she winked, sucking her lower lip between her teeth as she crinkled her nose at me.
Panicked, I shook my head.
Wide-eyed, Barbara nodded, glancing down to our conjunction, working herself over my cock.
It was madness but I gave in to the sensations. It was too sweet to stop. I was loving the feeling of Barbara sliding up and down my cock, her insides gripping my size.
When I started to move with her, Barbara nodded and grinned. She stared at me, challenging me with her eyes, her hands against the cubicle walls, her skirt up round her hips. I steadied myself, forcing my feet as wide as I could against the restrictions of my trousers down at my shins.
We went at it together, stifling gasps and moans as our tempo worked up.
“Just need a little time,” Barbara called in response to a query from one of our neighbours.
The woman’s question about Barbara’s welfare cooled the pair of us down as the two women laughed. One said, “Overdone it a bit?”
“I’m a bit full,” Barbara replied, grinning at me.
“All right, love. Hope you feel better!”
The door sucked open and then swooshed shut, the sound of voices receding.
“We better get this finished,” Barbara said as she slipped free of my cock. “From behind,” she added, turning to present her rump. “Put it in. Fuck me from behind. Hold my hips and really fucking smash me,” she snarled.
Her depraved order and the sight of her offering her cunt set me alight. I was at her in a couple of seconds, feeding my cock into her body, fingers on her hips. After that I went at her, our bodies thwack-slapping together as Barbara gasped and moaned and urged me on with a sewer-mouthed torrent. As I worked into her body, I curled in over her back so I could test the weight of her swinging tits.
“Yes,” Barbara grunted, shoving against me. “Like those big tits, Jason? Like my wet twat?”
“Barbara, I don’t believe we’re doing this. We almost got caught.”
“So hurry it up, Jason. Fuck me. Give it to me.”
“But I’ll do it in you,” I said.
“That’s all right. I want you to do it inside me.”
Without missing a stroke, I asked, “Is it all right? Is it safe?”
“I fucking want you to do it inside me. Don’t you worry. That’s what I need from you, Jason. I need your cum.”
I went at her harder and faster, both of us groaning while Barbara worked at her clit. I could feel the sc**** of her nails on the keel of my cock, the sensation not unpleasant, the surge beginning to boil.
I gave her a warning. I blurted out, “Barbara, I’m…” Then I couldn’t speak because the joy was fizzing through my cock.
“I know,” Barbara yelped. “I can feel your cock’s all swollen and hard!”
Then I gave it up and let the delight take over, my seed bathing Barbara’s insides, cum bathing her cervix.
***
I watched Barbara as she drank and danced and acted like nothing had happened. When she talked to her husband and my mother there was no way of telling Barbara was full of my semen. She chatted and laughed and behaved the same towards me as she’d always done. There wasn’t a hint of what had occurred between us in her demeanour.
Then, at 11:30 p.m. Barbara came to where I was sitting. I felt a flash of anxiety when I saw her husband was watching from the main door to the hall. It was loud in the room, all music and flashing lights as Barbara walked to me.
“We’re off home,” she said, leaning to so she could talk right into my ear. “My knickers are soaked in cum,” she went on, throwing a glance towards her husband.
Concerned but also feeling desire squeezing inside, I asked, “Is everything all right?”
Barbara nodded and smiled. “Better than all right,” she said, a hand on my shoulder. “I want you to come to the house tomorrow. In the afternoon … about five o’clock. How does that suit?”
Puzzled, I asked, “The house? How come?”
“To fuck me – what else?”
I couldn’t stop from looking over at Barbara’s husband. “He’s looking,” I said.
“Yes, so what?”
“I don’t know. But won’t he be home tomorrow?”
Barbara stood upright. She nodded and, when she saw the look on my face, leaned back in to say, “Yes, he will be. That’s the point. He’s going to watch us.”
END
***
Not sure how cheating/howife/cuck scenes go on this site. Some readers don't like the theme but I thought I'd give it a go. This one was done today. I pushed it out and wanted to get it submitted because it's Friday. As ever, it's unedited because I'm now up against time on another project. Please forgive any errors in the text. I hope you enjoyed it.
Thanks for reading. Feedback is welcome, especially since there's scope to continue this story.
Ricky - Cambs, England - 16th of August 2019.
Vera
- 25.07.2021
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