The evening began like so many others: my husband, Mark, and I gathered around the table with Jack, laughter and the clink of glasses filling the air. The sun was setting, casting golden light through the window and painting the room in warm, honeyed tones.

Mark and Jack had been friends since university. They bonded over late-night study sessions, football matches, and wild nights out. Over the years, Jack became a regular part of our lives, always showing up for birthdays, holidays, and Sunday barbecues. Mark trusted him completely, the kind of friend he’d call first with good news or in a crisis.

Jack was easy to like, charming, sharp, and always with that mischievous look. For a long time, he was just Mark’s mate to me, someone I’d chat with at gatherings. But as Mark and I settled into marriage, things changed. I noticed how Jack looked at me when he thought no one saw, how his jokes got bolder, and how our conversations lasted longer after Mark left the room.

It wasn’t just one moment but a thousand small ones, a touch at the sink, a laugh that felt private, a glance that lingered. The tension between us kept building, stronger with every look and every silence. I tried to ignore it, but it only got worse every time Jack was near.

I watched Mark as he poured another round of wine, his movements familiar and routine. Jack sat across from me, holding my gaze a little too long.

It had been going on for weeks, maybe longer. We exchanged glances. Sometimes our hands touched as we passed dishes. Jack’s laugh made me tense with want. Mark never noticed. He was always focused on work or the TV. Jack noticed everything. He looked at me like he wanted me. I felt it every time.

Tonight, the tension was different. It was right there, just under the surface. Under the table, Jack’s foot pressed against mine and stayed there. It sent heat straight between my legs. I bit my lip and looked at Mark. He was talking, not paying attention. Jack wanted me. Mark had no idea.

Jack kept his eyes on me. He watched how I drank, how I laughed, how my dress fit my body. Every time we looked at each other, it was obvious what we wanted.

When Mark got up to check dessert, Jack leaned in close. His voice was quiet. “You look beautiful tonight,” he said. His fingers touched my wrist under the tablecloth. My skin broke out in goosebumps. I smiled, feeling excited and guilty.

“Thank you,” I whispered. My pulse sped up as Jack’s thumb moved in circles on my skin, hidden from view. I should have pulled away. I didn’t want to.

Dessert didn’t register. Mark talked about work. Jack’s hand moved higher up my leg. I shifted in my seat, wanting him to touch me more. My body was on edge, desperate for more.

After dinner, Mark poured another glass of wine and slumped onto the sofa. He started snoring, a bottle of wine on his chest. He always slept deeply, but tonight he was out cold. The TV was on, the sound low. Jack and I stayed at the table. I was tense, my body tight with need. We both wanted this. We weren’t hiding it anymore.

Jack looked at me, his eyes dark. “Come with me,” he said. I got up, my heart racing.

We walked down the hallway. I barely noticed anything but Jack. Every step made me want him more. There was no turning back.

Jack grabbed my thigh, his fingers moving up as we reached the bedroom door. I sucked in a breath as he leaned close, his voice rough. “Tell me to stop,” he said. I shook my head. I kissed him, hard, needing him. We stumbled through the doorway, hands everywhere, pulling at clothes, bumping into walls. I didn’t care about anything but getting him inside me.

We fell onto the bed. The sheets were cool on my hot skin. Jack’s hands were everywhere: my waist, my breasts, my hips. He took his time, kissing down my neck and chest, sucking my nipples until I arched up, needing more. He slid his fingers between my legs, stroking me until I was soaked and shaking.

He knelt between my legs, staring at me as he rubbed his cock along my opening, then over my clit. I gasped and squirmed. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, stretching me, filling me completely. I moaned, loving the way he filled me. He stopped, deep inside, and kissed me hard, his tongue in my mouth as he started to move.

He set a slow, steady rhythm, pulling out almost all the way, then pushing back in. I whimpered, needing more. “You like that?” he said, his breath hot in my ear. I nodded, unable to speak. He kept me right on the edge, never letting me come, always holding me back. I clung to him, my nails digging into his back, my body begging for more.

Jack changed his pace, sometimes slow, sometimes fast. He shifted his hips, grinding against me until my thighs shook. He kissed me, his fingers tangled in my hair. Every sound, the bed creaking, my gasps, made me worry we’d be heard, but I didn’t care. The risk made me want him more.

He lifted my legs, driving deeper, his cock hitting spots that made me cry out. He pressed his thumb to my clit, circling gently, sending sparks through my body. I was so close, so desperate, but he slowed again, holding me right at the edge, refusing to let me fall. “Not yet,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “I want this to last.”

I bit down on my lip, fighting to keep quiet. Every nerve in my body was on fire. Jack’s cock filled me, his thumb working my clit just right. I felt the orgasm building, sharp and hot, impossible to hold back. I grabbed at the sheets, my breath coming in short, shaky gasps. I tried to stifle the sounds, terrified my husband might hear, but I couldn’t stop what was coming.

Jack leaned in, his mouth at my ear. “Let go,” he whispered, his voice rough. “I want to feel you come for me.” That was all it took. My body tensed, my back arching off the bed as the climax hit me hard. I pressed my face into Jack’s shoulder, muffling my moans against his skin. My whole body shook, waves of pleasure rolling through me while he kept thrusting, slow and deep, drawing it out as long as he could.

I clung to him, my thighs trembling, trying to catch my breath. The aftershocks left me weak, my body still pulsing around his cock. I could feel him grinning against my neck, loving every second of how hard he made me come.

We moved together, sweat slicking our bodies, breath mingling, hearts pounding. The pleasure built and built, a slow, relentless burn that left me shaking. Jack’s own control was fraying; I could feel his cock twitching, his rhythm faltering as he fought to hold back. “God, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his hands gripping my hips, his eyes wild with lust.

As he fucked me harder, a different kind of tension crept in. I felt a nervous heat in my belly, a memory of the calendar and the way my body had been lately, more sensitive, more ready. The thought had crossed my mind earlier in the evening, but now, with Jack deep inside me, it pressed in close. I knew what could happen if he finished inside me.

Between breaths, I whispered, “Jack… you'll have to pull out.” My voice shook. He looked at me and nodded, but neither of us really wanted to stop.

He started to pull back, but I grabbed his hips, holding him deep inside me. I looked up at him, breathless, my voice rough and certain. “No. Come inside me. I want to feel it. I want all of you.”

His eyes widened, his restraint snapping. That was all he needed.

The risk turned me on. My husband and I hadn’t touched each other in weeks. If I did become pregnant, there would be no doubt that he would know that the baby wasn't his. That thought made me want Jack even more.

Jack started thrusting harder, faster, losing control. I felt him swell inside me, his cock throbbing. He pushed deep, hips pressed tight to mine, and then he started to come. He groaned, his whole body shaking. I moaned as I felt his cum shoot inside me, hot and thick, filling me up. He kept pulsing, spilling more inside me, until I could feel it leaking out around him.

I arched up, wanting every drop. The idea of him coming inside me while my husband slept just down the hall made it even better. I held onto Jack, feeling him spurt inside me, both of us shaking from how intense it was.

When he finally stopped, still inside me, I felt his cum leaking out, hot and messy between my thighs. I loved the feeling, knowing exactly what we’d done and knowing I’d want it again.

We lay together, sweat cooling on our skin. Jack rolled onto his back, breathing hard, a satisfied look on his face. I stretched next to him, happy, the sticky warmth inside me a reminder of everything we’d done. My husband’s snores drifted in from the living room. Our secret was safe, for now.

I touched myself, feeling Jack’s cum, loving the risk and the memory. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted more, the danger, the pleasure, the rush. Tonight changed something in me, and I knew I’d chase this feeling again. My body wanted Jack, and I couldn’t wait to have him again, risking everything for another night like this.

I’d crossed a line, and I loved every second of it.