I slept with my best friend's wife

The feelings between men and women are often very subtle.

Two people who are completely incompatible can still ignite a passionate flame, ultimately falling into an abyss of lust that betrays marriage and friendship. It's fair to say that having a long-term affair with my friend's wife is the last thing I should have done in my life, but I just couldn't control my lust. The intense sensory stimulation from that extremely immoral and taboo relationship was like smoking marijuana; I knew I was playing with fire, but once addicted, it was impossible to quit.

I have a very good friend named Yang, who was my college roommate and is now my neighbor in the same neighborhood. As good friends and neighbors, we naturally often get together and help each other out. I'm a regular office worker, while my friend runs an overseas e-commerce business, selling counterfeit goods. His wife, Ya, is a colleague in another department of my company. I was the one who introduced her to my friend, and she always gives me a ride to and from work. My wife quit her job after giving birth to our second child to stay home and take care of the kids, but she also helps my friend with his e-commerce business during the day, mainly by advertising and driving traffic on foreign websites.

This created a rather inverted situation: we often spent more time with each other's wives than our own. Once, the two families were drinking and having skewers together. A friend, a bit tipsy, brought up this, half-jokingly suggesting we switch wives. I chuckled and casually agreed. The two women immediately switched seats, sitting next to each other's husbands and pretending to snuggle. Yang, emboldened by the alcohol, put his hand on my wife's waist and hugged her. My wife leaned into his arms. They quickly separated, but it was just a casual joke at the table, so no one took it seriously.

Later, I went to the restroom, and Yang staggered in after me. I noticed his pants were bulging, making it difficult for him to even unzip them. He took a couple of puffs of his cigarette and said, somewhat nonchalantly, "Your wife is driving me crazy, damn, so horny. So, do you mean what you just said?" I was stunned. "Do you mean what you said?" As he ran the water cooler, he chuckled, "Heh heh, want to switch wives? You dare? My Xiaoya isn't bad either." I was speechless for a moment, and for some reason, I asked, "Xiaoya really agreed?" Yang gave me a disdainful look and said, "Are you stupid? You can pursue her, I allow you to, but I can't force you." Then he asked, "Will you let me pursue Ting?" I said, "It's up to you, go for it if you can." I knew he was just being drunk; Ting would

n't be interested in someone like that. My wife Ting is beautiful, has a great figure, and high emotional intelligence. Before I won her over, she was my goddess. However, marriage can't withstand the monotony of life, especially after having our second child. My wife's attention has completely shifted to the children. Aside from focusing on and discussing the children, we rarely communicate or share our thoughts. I come home late and exhausted every day from work, and our normal marital life has become optional. At first, she would call to ask where I was if I came home late, but now she doesn't even care if I don't come home all night. She's always glued to her phone. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night to find her still on it. She explains that she's doing online overseas advertising and it's US time now. I didn't think much of it, but the frequent vibrations of her phone, and her furtive gestures, indicated that she was actually chatting with someone else.

Ya is a somewhat assertive and aloof woman, about 1.68 meters tall. Although she's given birth, she still looks like she's in her early twenties, exuding femininity. Her cool face always carries a subtle allure, especially her expressive eyes, which always have a lively, spring-like quality that's unforgettable. When you look into her eyes, you can't help but have impure thoughts.

My workplace is almost 30 kilometers from home, so I usually drive both kids to kindergarten first, then take Ya to work with me. As a result, the kindergarten teachers always mistake Ya for my wife. Ya and I spend more than two hours together in the car every day on our commute. We also meet up for lunch at restaurants or go shopping for clothes together. I learned that Ya and Yang's marital relationship wasn't as harmonious as it seemed on the surface. Arguments, estrangement, and cold wars became the main themes of their lives. Yang would come home drunk after socializing and exhibit violent tendencies. If it weren't for their child, she wouldn't have been able to endure the marriage any longer, and she even suffered from depression. I hadn't expected her family problems to be so serious. As the matchmaker, I felt like I was pushing her into a fire pit, but of course, I only offered words of comfort, saying that Yang was essentially a trustworthy person.

Although men are often lustful, one shouldn't covet a friend's wife, so initially I absolutely dared not have any improper thoughts about my friend's wife. Although I would sometimes fantasize about my wife being Ya in the quiet of the night, I still maintained a distance from Ya in reality. I never imagined that one day I would actually pin my good friend's wife down and ravage her, because that would be tantamount to playing with fire. However, women are less able to control their emotions. As I spent more time with Ya, I noticed an undisguised burning in her eyes when she looked at me, which frightened me, and I would generally avoid eye contact with her. There was an unspoken ambiguity between us, a mutual understanding yet a deep-seated reluctance to acknowledge each other's thoughts.

The final straw for Ya was Yang's business collapse. He was arrested for selling counterfeit designer shoes and spent nearly a year in jail before being released. For a long time after his release, Yang was unemployed, spending his days drinking and aimlessly, his temper flaring even more. During that time, Ya spent her days in tears, feeling utterly heartbroken. Then one day, I accompanied her shopping. Coming up from the parking garage via the stairs, perhaps due to the dim lighting, Ya instinctively grabbed my hand. I don't know where I got the courage, but I put my arm around her waist. She leaned against me, and we separated in an instant. But in that instant, I smelled the fragrance of her hair, which ignited my desire.

I glanced around the hallway, making sure no one was there, then suddenly shoved Ya against the wall. She leaned against it, startled at first, then covered her mouth and giggled, her eyes a mixture of allure and passion, her lips slightly upturned, seemingly in defiance, waiting for my next move. Ultimately, I struggled with my inner turmoil and didn't dare continue, so I released her. Disappointment flashed across her face, and she pouted, muttering in dissatisfaction, "Are you even a man?!"

On my way home from work, I felt restless, so I exited the highway midway and drove to a secluded spot. Ya, sitting in the passenger seat, tilted her head, asking with a half-smile, "What do you want to do?!" I crudely said, "I'll fuck you," then grabbed Ya, pulling her closer, and lowered my head to kiss her moist, warm lips fiercely.

Ya gave me a token push, but didn't move away at all, passively enduring my kiss for a moment. When I tried to pull away, she instead wrapped her arms around my neck and responded passionately. Their lips met, their tongues quickly intertwining, swallowing each other's saliva. The sounds of their kissing and sucking, along with the woman's panting, echoed in my ears.

At this moment, the last shred of my morality was cast aside. While kissing, I slipped my hand inside Ya's shirt, unhooking her bra at the back. My palm covered one of her warm, round, full breasts, my fingers pinching and kneading her soft, erect nipple, completely forgetting that she was my best friend's woman. Ya's upper body was completely limp in my arms, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glazed, her intermittent breaths and moans stimulating and encouraging me to roam more recklessly over her body.

Finally, I unbuttoned Ya's pants, reaching between her legs, caressing the soft, wet pubic hair, which was already overflowing with moisture. Ya seemed unable to withstand the stimulation and bit my arm hard. I winced and pulled my hand away from between her legs, my fingers glistening with a slippery, silky liquid. On a whim, I put my fingers in my mouth and sucked on them; they had a faint fishy taste. My penis became rock hard; a woman's fluids were more potent than any aphrodisiac.

Seeing me sucking her fluids, Ya suddenly covered her face with both hands, spat, and said, "You're such a pervert, you don't even spare your best friend's wife." Her words shocked me, and a wave of self-reproach washed over me. I reached for my car keys to start driving. Ya punched my shoulder and said, "You've left me feeling so uncomfortable, like I'm going to just leave and not care anymore?" I asked, "What should I do?" Ya asked, "Are you in a hurry to get home?" I said, "Nothing's wrong at home." Ya opened her phone's map and pointed, saying there was a hotel nearby, and I needed to shower.

When we got to the hotel room, Ya didn't go to the bathroom. She threw her bag on the table, took off her shoes, lay down on the bed, and giggled at me. Ya raised one leg, her black stockings and work clothes arousing my senses. I crawled on the floor beneath the bed, pressing my face against the woman's long, slender legs. She bent down and pulled down her wet panties, throwing them at my face. Before I could react, she clamped my head between her legs, saying provocatively, "You like to eat, don't you? I'll let you eat your fill."

I hesitated for a moment, then buried my head between her thighs, my tongue prying open her soft flesh and sucking and licking. Ya's body trembled violently, slowly contorting, her legs encircling my neck like a magic cudgel, making it hard for me to breathe. Ah—um—, the woman's ecstatic moans echoed in the room. My erection had reached its limit, so I pulled down my pants, parted her legs, and thrust into her without a condom. Ah—Ya couldn't help but scream, arching her head back like a beautiful swan.

The woman's body was like a furnace; I felt the intense, wet, tight, and deep sensation, a pleasure so intense I felt like I could fly. I hoisted Ya's legs up and slowly began to thrust my hips. Ya, completely abandoning her usual shyness, crudely complained about how thick, deep, and swollen it was, begging me to slow down. But I ignored her, instead increasing the pace. Her once delicate and beautiful face contorted in agony, her head thrashing wildly against the pillow like she'd taken ecstasy. I, like a pile driver at full power, tirelessly repeated the same pounding motion.

Ya's screams were cut short, her face flushed, her eyes glazed and unfocused. With each thrust, her firm breasts swung in perfect arcs through the air. I stroked the thin scar from her C-section on her smooth, flat abdomen, gazing at her exquisite face, unable to believe it was real. We had committed this immoral act of betraying our families and friendships, and the pleasure from this illicit affair was as potent as a strong aphrodisiac.

As I thrust, I asked Ya, "Who's better, me or Yang?" Ya rolled her eyes at me and said, "Don't mention his name right now. I feel like we're doing him a disservice." She then started sobbing. I quickly stopped what I was doing to comfort her, kissing away her tears. She complained angrily, "You bastard! Who told you to stop? Hurry up and fuck me! Fuck your buddy's wife! Fuck me to death!" I lifted her legs and immediately resumed my assault. Ya then asked me who was tighter and more comfortable there, hers or Ting's. I said, "Of course, it's with you. One had a natural birth, the other a C-section. Are the tightness and support the same?" Ya

asked breathlessly, "When did I start having impure thoughts about her?" I said, "A long time ago, but I've been suppressing them." Ya rolled her eyes at me, but seemed very happy. She said, "I knew you were a bad person all along. Let me tell you a secret: I've been dreaming about you violating me these past few days, just like this. I never thought the dream would come true; we actually slept together." "Ah—, it's too deep! Don't be so rough! Waaah—you're going to pierce me!"

Ya and I tried various positions on the bed. Gazing at the woman's familiar yet unfamiliar exquisite face, I had a dreamlike illusion that I had actually slept with my best friend's wife. This immoral guilt of adultery didn't stop me; instead, it made my movements even faster and more intense. Stroking the woman's snow-white back, slapping her round, pert buttocks, watching the white foam overflowing from our genitals, a sense of accomplishment from theft and conquest welled up within me. I couldn't hold back any longer, and finally released myself amidst the woman's hysterical screams.

After the release, there was a deep emptiness and self-reproach. I couldn't believe I had fallen to such a despicable state. Of all people to have an affair with, it had to be my best friend's woman. This was too immoral. Ya leaned against me and whispered, "What's wrong? Do you regret it?" I remained silent because I truly didn't know what to say. Ya continued, "If you regret it, just pretend nothing happened. I won't bother you." As she spoke, tears streamed down her face. Seeing her sorrowful expression, my heart softened. I sighed and said, "I really don't know how to face Yang. He's worse than an animal. If this gets out, we're both finished."

Ya was silent for a while, then leaned her head against my chest and said, "Don't blame yourself. I know you've always considered Yang your best friend, but he might not feel the same way." I was taken aback and asked her what she meant. Ya tilted her head and looked at me for a long time before saying, "Haven't you noticed at all? They're together all the time. How can you trust your wife like that?!" My heart sank. "What nonsense are you talking about? They could never have that kind of relationship!" My voice trembled as I spoke. I couldn't believe it, I couldn't even imagine that my always virtuous wife would cheat on me with my friend.

Ya remained silent for a long time, as if making a huge decision. Finally, she said, "Do you want to see evidence?" My heart jumped into my throat. I grabbed Ya's arm and asked, "Do you have evidence? Show it to me!" "Ya said you pinched me too hard," I said, letting go. She took out her phone and said, "How about we make a bet? I bet those two are having sex like us." I said, "Are you out of your mind?" Ya said, "If you don't believe me, see for yourself." She tapped an app icon, and a few seconds later, a video appeared on the screen. Something was moving in the center of the frame. I rubbed my eyes. It was a man and woman embracing and having sex.

I glanced at Ya questioningly. She said casually, "This is my bedroom. I secretly installed a camera, and the video is happening in real time." I pressed my face close to the screen, focusing on the two writhing bodies. In the video, the woman was lying naked on her back on the bed, her hair covering half her face. A dark-skinned man's body was straddling her full, white body. The two contrasting bodies were pressed together, and the woman's breasts were squeezed so hard they looked like they were about to burst. But because of the distance, I couldn't confirm their identities, so I hesitated and glanced at Ya.

Ya tapped the screen to zoom in. Perhaps due to the high-definition camera, the image resolution didn't become blurry; the details of the man and woman's intercourse were incredibly clear. She could see the man's dark, thick penis moving in and out of the woman's vagina, and a cloudy white fluid flowing from their point of contact, sticking their dark pubic hair together. The man was Yang; his dark skin was his trademark feature. The woman beneath him turned her head slightly, her face directly facing the camera, her expression dazed—it was my wife, Ting. She was crying out, her mouth open, though no sound could be heard; she was completely immersed in the pleasure of intercourse.

I was utterly stunned, as if struck by lightning!

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I slept with my best friend's wife

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