Joe's always been a big fan of my tits. Or a fan of my big tits. Probably both. I do catch him gazing at my cleavage when I (usually deliberately) flash some extra skin. But that's as far as it goes. A bit of fun.

We're coincidentally born a week apart, been besties since forever, and made a pact at high school that if neither of us had settled down by the time we were twenty-seven-and-a-half, we'd marry each other. Thirty seemed too far away; twenty-five not enough time to live first, so we split the difference.

Nothing's ever happened between us, which is kind of crazy given we probably know more about each other than our spouses. Our chat histories are full, usually every day or, at most, every other. He's so easy to talk to, and we're always there for one another, from chit chat about our days, to when we need to vent about some aspect of suburban life (usually the lack of sex).

He stares at me across the café table like I'd asked him to milk a swan. “What?!”

I grin. Waggle an eyebrow and sup my strawberry shake through the straw. “I said I'd do it.”

He continues to stare, brow creasing in that endlessly cute way beneath the mop of jet hair. “I heard what you said, but I’m still… What?!”

Okay, freeze frame. Guess I should back up a bit…

It was a lazy Saturday. We'd arranged to meet in our fave coffee shop, Bartholomew's, to catch up. Hadn't seen him for at least a week, and he loves telling me a week is a long time in IT.

The place was buzzing, even at 10am, shoppers and families trying to beat the town centre crowds. The baristas were scuttling between serving, frothing milk in the overly-loud machines, swirling coffee and fetching cake.

He'd slid into the booth opposite me, fashionably late as always, and we'd ordered our regular. Him, a tall latte, and me the aforementioned milkshake. I’d pushed the boat out and got us squares of millionaire’s shortbread too.

He searched my eyes. “What's the occasion?”

“Cake doesn't need an occasion.”

“True. So. You’ve not cured Parkinson's yet?”

“Nah. Designed a new enzyme that might be a stepping stone though.”

“Go you.”

“Yeah. You?”

“I turned someone's printer off and on, and it started working again.”

“Go you.”

“Yeah.”

“How’s Kerry?”

“Overworked. Undervalued.”

“Modern life is rubbish.”

“Some days are just a… Blur.”

I smiled. We often lapsed into talking in related song, album and band titles. “Nothing but Coffee and TV?”

“Better than Cigarettes and Alcohol.”

“I say, Roll With It.”

“After my Morning Glory, I assume?”

“Ha. Oooh, speaking of which. Have you… y'know?”

He sipped his coffee and took a bite of shortbread. “No. She’s not interested.”

“Too bad. She doesn't know what she's missing.”

*Mmm. It's not for want of trying.”

“Oh, this'll be good.”

“Hush, you. I've been very gentlemanly. Tried a relaxing back massage that turns sexy, roaming my tongue and lips everywhere before working down to the crease. She shoves me away. I've tried, like, teasing first. She stops me. I’ve tried asking. She says no. I've even found her some anal porn—the homemade stuff, not the wailing, scripted crap. She refused to even watch it.”

“Have you offered to go first? Joe le guinea pig.”

“Of course! Should have seen the look she gave me.” He demonstrated Edvard Munch-style horror. “She thinks bum stuff will turn me gay and I'll leave her.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“I'm guessing you don't have the necessary toys anyway, so there's that hurdle.”

“Mmm. We've got a couple of vibrators in the house. That tiny Unihorn one you recommended, and a regular shaped thing.” 

I noisily sucked the top of my shake with the straw and giggled when a few people indignantly turned to stare. “You should order a harness.”

“Seems an extravagance if we're never gonna use it.”

“I would.”

Okay, restart the action. You're caught up.

He eyes me over his drink. “So, like, what you're saying, is that if my wife won't peg my arse, you would?”

I nod. Slurp more shake. “Mmhmm.”

“Just like that? Cheat on Mike. Have me cheat on Kerry?”

“It's hardly cheating. We're—”

“I think the dictionary would disagree.”

I eye him. “We're best mates. It’s not like I'm gonna run off with you! I'm offering to help you out, because your wife won't, and you're a lovely guy who deserves to try stuff if you really want. Life's too short.”

“I don't… I'm… I dunno what to say.”

“Don’t have to decide this minute. No pressure.”

He does the brow furrow thing again. Strokes his stubble. “What do you get out of it, though?”

“Are you kidding? It’s fucking hot.” I take a bite of shortbread, chase the crumbs into my mouth and wash them down with a hit of shake. “I love it. We both do. I get to dress up in the harness, the strappy leather bra, the knee-length boots, and act all powerful for him.”

He blinks. Gulps and roams his eyes up and down my body, clearly letting his imagination race. Sits there mute.

“Are you ever gonna see me in the same light again?”

The shake of his head is swift. “That's indelibly imprinted in my mind. Bet it's a sight.”

“Mike seems to like it.”

“I bet.” He stirs his latte, which doesn't need stirring. “So if we were to, sort of, do that thing, how would it work, like, logistically? You’d square it away with Mike, right? I wouldn't want to piss him off. He's, y’know, built.”

I focus on an old couple flustered by the card machine that had requested a PIN neither of them could remember. Probably one of their birthdates. “I'd not exactly advertise it. In the same way you probably wouldn't tell Kerry.”

“Definitely wouldn't.”

“Then what they don't know won't hurt them.”

He eyes me again. Cleavage first. “Sounds risky. Lots could go wrong.”

I wave my hand dismissively. “Like I say, no pressure. Offer is there.”

Taking a slug of coffee, he sets it down and watches the steam curl between us. “I’m more than tempted, even just to see you in that outfit.” I roll my eyes. Men. “But it's a big commitment. Nowhere near my seven-year itch yet.”

I shrug. “They’ve been known to come early.”

Both of us sink into thought as café life bustles around us.

He runs a fingertip round the rim of the coffee cup. “We shouldn't be talking about this. Not even thinking about it. It's a bad idea. Baaad.”

“Mmm, no doubt.”

I lift my gaze to stare into the deep brown eyes opposite. There's genuine worry. Uncertainty. But also curiosity. A spark of mischief. Then a smile. He goes to speak. Thinks better of it. Tries again. “Remember our pact?”

“Of course.”

“The date’s coming up next month.”

“Mmhmm.”

“So I wonder if, if maybe we could celebrate?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Celebrate not marrying one another?”

He nods, hands trembling.

“By sleeping together?”

He's quick to defend the idea. “Well, we could just go out. See where the night takes us.”

“Should I bring a cake?”

“Of course. Cake doesn't need an occasion. But maybe also pack the… equipment you mentioned. Just in case.”

I let out a sharp laugh. “Just in case our clothes fall off and I trip, landing on top of you?”

He scoops oozing caramel from the last quarter of shortbread and sucks it off his fingertip. “Something like that.”

“It's an option.”

Neither of us speak until a waitress passes by and offers him another drink. He slides his cup towards her. “Latte please.” She scurries off. Froths and fusses with the noisy machine and returns. He plonks a sugar cube in. Stirs.

His eyes find mine. “Should we?”

I contemplate him. The way he fills his T-shirt. The way his jaw curves up to his ears. How the cheekbones topped with the occasional freckle accent his nose. I let a slow grin spread. “Oh, absolutely not.”

-o0o-

The only glow in the hotel room is from the lamps attached either side of the headboard. I sit on the bed edge facing the door. Still fully dressed, the harness in the holdall by the wardrobe, because I half expect a no-Joe.

I'm not sure why my pulse is thundering. It was my idea, largely. Maybe it's the thrill? Guilt? Apprehension? We are technically going to cheat on our spouses, so I guess the adrenaline has a lot to answer for.

My palms are damp and I wipe them on the crisp, white duvet. Tap my bare foot. Stare at the holdall, recalling the last time I used its contents on Mike, until the gentle tap at the door pulls me from the daydream.

Showtime.

I pad up past the bathroom and swing the door inward. He's in trainers, jeans and a T-shirt bearing the phrase Bit of an expert. I nod at it. “Which bit?”

He shrugs. “The good bit, I hope.”

Stepping aside, I let him enter and follow him towards the bed as the door latches. He paces, hands in his pockets and I stand by the bathroom door until he stops and sits, facing the TV. I approach and sit beside him.

We stare at the blank screen. He lets out a shaky breath. “How do we, like, start?”

I shrug. Slide my hand a few centimetres across the duvet to brush fingers. Heat rises inside me. His breathing picks up.

“I mean, do we launch straight in? Have a drink?” He glances down at our hands and drifts a finger over mine. “Some kind of warmup?”

Our fingertips entwine and I gradually lean until my head rests on his shoulder. “I don't know. But we should probably undress at some point.”

“Mmm.”

We barely move. Just continue to stroke fingers in the quiet, until he lets go, reaches for the hem of his T-shirt and lifts. I sit up and watch his bare chest appear. Not toned like a gym shark, but he takes care of himself and clearly exercises.

When the top hits the floor, his attention drifts to my shaking fingertips unbuttoning the blue blouse, tangerine bra revealed button by button.

Shucking my shoulders, the fabric slithers to pool on the sheets and I tilt my head so our eyes lock. He can't resist the lure of my chest. Reaching behind me, I unhook the clasp. He chews his lip as the cups drop, then inhales sharply.

“Fuck, Annie, you're beautiful. Why have I never noticed?”

I can't stop the blush. “Oh, shoosh you.” Cupping my full tits, I lift and let go a few times, loving his attention on their bounce and hardening nipples, before standing to fetch the holdall.

Dropping it on the bed beside him, I unzip it. Reach in and rummage for the bra. Orient it the correct way and slide my arms in. The leather is cool against my heated skin.

I turn, lift my oaky curls out of the way and wait for him to stand, brushing my skin as he encircles my waist, loops the dangling straps around me and figures out how to do up the buckles. His subtle aftershave drifts as he adjusts the shoulder straps, and I shiver.

When the bra's snug, I grab the waistband of my black leggings and roll them down, wiggling my arse at him. I cast a glance over my shoulder and giggle at his open-mouthed stare at my rump. The material drops and I step on each leg to lift free, turning to face him.

His appreciative gaze makes my skin prickle, stomach fluttering. I let my attention wander from bicep to pecs and then down. Pause. He gets the message. Unbuckles the belt, snaps the button, unzips and lets the denim drop.

I can't help the gasp escaping at the prominent bulge in his undies. Trace my fingers up my sides to skim the bra, then down to the waistband of my knickers.

“On three okay?”

He nods. Hooks thumbs in his.

“One, two… three.”

We both bend and stand. Appraise.

“Jesus, Joe. Didn't know you were packing that much heat.”

It's his turn to blush and he strokes his almost erect cock once. It firms more, and takes me a moment to tear my stare away.

Rummaging in the bag, I pull out the black silicone dildo and place it against him to measure. The toy’s an eight-incher and he's not much shy of its tip. I breathe out. “Kerry’s a lucky lady.”

He shrugs. “The way you describe sex with Mike, I figured he'd be a python.”

I shake my head. “He knows what to do with what he's got, but he's a couple short of that. And he has a foreskin. Fuck, Joe. You're making me wet.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Show me.”

Turning the dildo around, grasping its base where the balls are moulded, I bring it to me. Fluff my pubes, spread my folds and slip the tip in, pulling it out to glimmer in the lamplight.

“Wow, that looks delicious.”

I bring it to my mouth and swirl my tongue. “Mmm. It is.”

Dropping the toy on the bed with a thud, I retrieve the harness. Thread the phallus through the eyelet, pick up the contraption and secure it to my waist. It bobs as I feed and adjust the straps around me, tightening them under my bum so it's comfy.

He eyes me and chews his lip. “There's no coming back from this is there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Us. If we do this, we're FWBs, right?”

I giggle. Twang the dildo. “Dunno about benefits. I’ll be your Friend with Peggybits, at least.”

“Fuck.”

Extending a finger towards him, I scratch his nipple. Let it linger a moment before drawing away. “We’ll be fine. Trust me. What are friends for, eh?” I pull the knee high boots from the bag and bend to slide them on, shoogling like I'm about to tee up a golf shot. It accentuates my cleavage squished into the leather. After each boot is snug, I adjust any twisted straps that criss-cross up my calves from the ankle. The boots add an inch or two, so I'm level with his stare.

A surge of power ripples through me. “Turn around, Joseph.”

After a short while ogling my form, he turns away. I grab the lube, step in so the tip of my cock rests against his inner thigh, and pop the cap. He shudders when I drizzle it into his crack, some of it trickling down and around the toy.

I lean in and whisper, “I'm going to enjoy fucking your arse. Now, be a good boy and spread the gel around.”

Stepping away, I grease the dildo as he slips fingers into his crease and smears lube. His actions click in the quiet when he inserts a digit. Sighs.

“Hands on the bed when you're ready.”

He carries on lubing before placing his palms on the duvet. “Go gentle, yeah? First time and all that.”

I step in and place the slippery tip at his ring. Drift my hands to his rump and slither them up to grasp his hips. “Now now, Joe. Where's the fun in that?”

Applying pressure, a thrill zips through me at his gasp. I keep up the sustained, slow progress, barely giving him time to adjust, and drip as his breaths intensify, forehead dipping to brush the bed. “Jesus, Annie. That's incredible.”

I smile. “That's barely a couple of centimetres. Just wait.”

“Fuck.”

The flared bulb hasn't breached yet, and a shiver ripples through me at the prospect of his reaction. He hisses through his teeth as I grip his butt, peel apart and ease deeper.

I never tire of that moment when the tip disappears. That groan of satisfaction as the toy slithers past the inner muscle with a gentle pop, and the lengthy sigh that follows. The acceptance. Joe does it all, and adds a lengthy, “Fffuuck,” to cap it off.

Now I pause. It's only fair to give him a moment to adjust. But I'm itching to hear him take more, so I resume easing my hips forward, creeping the toy deeper into his bum.

He huffs into the bed as each inch disappears. “That's gotta be it?”

“Uh-uh. Just over halfway.”

“Fucking hell. So full.”

“Want me to reverse?”

He considers his options. “Just a little… yeah, like that.” He wiggles his hips. Breathes in sharply. “Okay. Go on.”

Reaffirming my grip, I ease in, working deeper this time. His moan is longer. “Fuck! Stop, stop.”

I oblige, pull back a smidge and he groans. Picking up the lube, I drizzle more on the silicone, rub it around the toy and his stretched ring, then push forward. He takes another couple of inches, fists bunching the sheets. “Oh godyes. Fuck. This is incredible.”

“Mmmm.” I lean down to his ear. Nudge it with my cheek, and whisper, “Just wait till I fuck you.”

I swear I sense his shudder.

To punctuate the statement, I pull back and drive in to the same depth. Then a little further. He's maybe an inch or so from taking the lot, and I concentrate on worming the rest in as he mutters and moans under his breath.

When my hips press up to his skin, I let him bask in the sensation. Hold him as he gets his breathing under control, barely moving.

Running my hand up from his butt, I stroke his spine. Grasp his hair and tug, lifting his head a little so I can bend down to his ear. “Buckle up, Dorothy. This is the good bit.” He tenses. “Uh-uh. Relax.”

I let go of his hair. Drift my hand down again and grab his bottom. Give it a light swat and wait for his gasp to fade and his muscles to unclench before drawing my cock away.

Halfway out I switch direction and glide it in. He moans. I drip, my inner thighs slippery. When our bodies meet, I draw back and set up a rhythm, slow at first, but gradually quickening as his moans rise.

I reach forward and hold his shoulders. Use the leverage to pick up the pace. Push his face into the bed to muffle his increasing groans, stand on tiptoes and drive the toy in and out. It schlicks in the relative quietness.

“Yeah. Fucking take it. Take that cock in your arse.” I pound a little harder. “How's that, huh? You like getting fucked, Joe? Like being my little butt slut?”

He groans approval into the duvet. I slide my hands up to his shoulders again and grab his hair. Tug him to all fours. “What's that? Can't hear you.”

His moans ping off the headboard in sync with my thrusts. “I love it. Fuck me, Annie.”

“More?”

“Mmhmm.”

I slow down the strokes, but lengthen them, slamming deep each time. “Yeah. So frigging hot. You know what this does to me?”

He shakes his head and I let go of one shoulder, pull out most of the way so his deep groan at the exit burn fills the room, and drop my hand between us. Slipping two fingers into my wet pussy, I lift them free, dripping, glide my hips forward to fill him fully, and reach round to shove my fingers in his mouth.

His stifled moan turns me on more as he greedily sucks my juices, sliding his tongue over and between the digits to thoroughly lap them. I slide them from his lips with a wet pop and he moans approval. “Fuck you're delicious.”

“All your fault. That's what it does to me fucking your tight arse.”

Trailing my now cleaned hand under us again, I zero on his cock. “Mmm what's this? Not even hard.”

He tenses. “Uhhh, sorry. Been concentrating on the, y'know, the sensations.”

“Well let's change that.”

I ease completely clear and he gasps at the emptiness. “Oh that burns. Wow.” He slumps onto the bed, sighing contentedly.

“Don't get too comfy.” I give his rear a playful slap. “On your back.”

He shuffles off the bed, stands and dutifully sits back down on the edge, before lying back, his feet on the floor. I step in and lift his legs, hooking them over my shoulders, his calves brushing my ears.

Grabbing the lube, I flip the cap and squirt more onto the toy dangling from my hips. Smear it along the entire length and present the bulb to his ring.

The going is easier second time. He's more used to it. Knows what to expect, and I ease inside.

Halfway in, I pause to reach under my body and scoop wetness onto my fingers and palm. Bringing them up, I grasp his cock with my slippery fist and slowly jerk his semi as I guide my hips closer to his. He groans when I creep further until our hips are touching and he firms in my grip.

“That's it. Good boy. Get nice and hard for me.”

Beginning to wank him, I time the strokes with my thrusts, keeping a steady, slow beat. His cock grows to what I think is full hardness and his fingertips claw at the duvet every time our hips collide. Turns out it's not full. When I ramp up the pace a little, his groans become more desperate and his dick swells under my strokes.

“Fuck, Joe, this thing’s an Exocet.”

He laughs. “You seem to be missile command.”

“Just initiating launch sequence.”

His grin melds to that creased brow as he chews his lip and rolls his head away. “Fuck that's amazing.”

“More?”

He nods and I pull out further, slamming in deeper, his ring stretching deliciously around the huge toy.

“That's it. Take my cock, you little slut.”

There's a surge and a gasp, so I pull out completely and let go of him. “Nooo. Fuck, don't stop.”

He twitches on the bed, thighs rocking against my chest.

I collect more juices. They're glazing my thighs and I transfer it to his prick, stroking the mammoth rod. “You on the edge there?”

“Ah-ha, mmmm God.”

The clicks of wetness and his panting fill the room. I press the tip of the toy to his hole. Pause. Drive it in and he whimpers. I haul it free and his groan at the burning of its exit thrills me.

“Does my slut like that?”

“Ohhhh yeah.”

I ram home again, splitting him and yanking free, his ring taking a moment to close fully before I pierce it again.

His cock is steely in my grip and I don't stroke it, just squeeze each time I shove inside. Then release when I withdraw.

“Fuckfuck. So close.”

I slow down. Leave it a good ten seconds between each thrust, until he's babbling for it faster. His cock swells every time I tighten my fist and plough inside.

“How much do you think you can take of this? Half an hour? An hour?”

His eyes fly open and glare at me. “No no no. Fuck, I need to cum.”

“Hmmm. I don't hear much evidence of that. Where's the begging?” I slam deep and hold there, squeezing his thick cock.

“Oh Christ. Annie, please.”

Yanking free, I let go and watch his dick bobbing and hole closing.

“Please? Is that the best you have?”

“No. Ohhh. Put it back in, pleeease.”

“Such. A.” I drive my hips against his, and fill him. “Needy. Little.” Grab his dick and stroke it fast. “Slut.”

He thrashes his head. “Gonna cum ohh.”

I tear free and let go. Slap his cock once. “No! You cum when I say.”

His groan is sustained as he fights his orgasm. “Please pleeease.”

“Please what? Who owns your arse?”

“Oh God…”

“Close, but no.”

“Y… you do.”

I reward him by filling his butt with the toy, depositing another fistful of my dripping juices on his cock that I wank until the panic in his eyes surfaces. “Then address me properly.” I tear free and smile down at him, his calves flexing against my head.

“Please can I cum, Mistress? Please fuck. Pleeease. Can't hol… hold it.”

Letting him stew another few seconds, I reach for his cock. Hold it tight. Align my fake cock and ram it fully. “Good boy. Cum for me now.”

I pump inside him and stroke his cock fast; no synchronisation, just rapid wanking and fucking as his groans turn to hisses, hips rocking and I'm rewarded with jets of spunk arcing up over his belly and as far as his chest. One catches his shoulder, and he shudders and moans deeply throughout. With a final push, I embed the toy in him and hold it, milking his cock of every drop of cream that splatters on his body.

When Captain Vesuvius has finished erupting and squirming, I slither the cock free and slide his legs off my shoulders, letting him dangle over the bed edge to recover, while I unbuckle the harness.

He offers a contented, lopsided grin. “Thank you so much. That was… insanely hot.”

I wave the compliment away. “Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

“As if.”

He lets his arm flop out to one side, brushing my leg. I pause. Eye him as he gently strokes it, working his way to the juice slick on its inner surface.

“Careful there. Don't you go getting attached now.”

His eyes lock on mine as he slips his hand between my thighs. Gently taps the glazing that forms strings between his fingertips and my skin. “It would be an honour to repay the orgasm.”

I take a breath. “I dunno. It's a slippery slope.”

He glides his hand through the wetness. “It certainly is.” I wiggle my hips as his fingertips drift higher. Brush my pussy lips. Begin stroking them.

My jaw drops open when he eases a digit between them. I simply inhale at his touch. Say nothing.

“My god you're wet.”

“Mmhmm.”

He nudges my thighs apart. Slips a finger inside me. I gasp. “Joe. We shouldn't.” But even as I say it, my resolve is crumbling. I'm hornier than I can remember in a long time, and his gentle probing adds to it.

Withdrawing his finger, he repositions his hand to hold my outer thigh. Shuffles himself around so his head hangs off the bed and guides me to straddle his face. I put up almost zero resistance and lose myself in the contact of his tongue with my slit.

Joe laps tentatively at first, but soon sets up a rhythm, fluttering and circling my eager clit between bouts of dipping his tongue inside me. The vibrations from his moans as my taste trickles across his cheeks and lips fuel the need, until I'm rocking on his face, grinding onto his mouth.

“Oh fuck, don't stop.”

He doesn't seem in any hurry to do so. If anything, he intensifies his actions, moaning into my snatch when I roll my hips harder and crush him to the bed.

I flop forward over his body and flick my tongue to lap up the creamy spunk pooling in and around his belly button. “Mmmm. Ohhh.”

Increasing the pressure of my hips, I leak around his tongue and grind, his nose then chin crashing into my clit as he slathers and loses himself in my scent. When his tongue drives inside me, I chant, “Gonna cum… oh God, gonna cum.”

The pulses start deep and radiate, my groans in sync with them. Fresh wetness seeps from my slit and coats his face as he eagerly laps and drinks, moaning into my quivering cunt.

Seemingly endless waves flow through me and he never loses contact, lengthening the pleasure. I can't recall ever cumming as hard or for as long, and we stay entangled, rocking, licking, nuzzling for a long while after the initial burst has faded.

Eventually, we part and I step free, strings of grool snapping against his face that he eagerly licks up. I gaze down at his messy grin. Return the upside down smile. Stroke his soaked cheek. “Thank you. Didn't realise how much I needed that.”

He turns. Sits and pulls himself up to the headboard end, lying back and rolling his attention my way. Pats the bed beside him.

I crawl on and flop face up alongside him.

Our hands seek one another and we idly stroke fingertips, goosebumps forming in the aircon.

He rolls to face me. “Penny for ‘em.”

Shrugging, I return his gaze. “Where do we go from here?”

“Honestly? No idea. This could get messy.”

I giggle, observing the state of his face. “It already is.”

“Heh, yeah.”

We lie there soaked in thought. He breaks the silence. “How about this: we're here now. We have all night to celebrate not being married. Let's get a takeaway. And then… well, is there anything you want to do that you've never done? Might as well push the boat out if this is a one-time thing.”

“Is it though?”

It's his turn to shrug. “Let's assume it is. What do you want to do?”

I roll, prop myself on one elbow and gaze into his eyes. “Hmmm. I guess since we have the strap-on, there is one thing.”

He strokes a lock of hair from my cheek. Plays his thumb over my lip, which I catch and nibble. “What's that?”

“I've kind of… never had a DP. So you could wear it and do both at once?”

He lies there, stunned like he'd fallen down the stairs. Then a grin spreads. “Sounds fun. Excuse the crudeness, but which hole would you like from each?”

I smile, lean in and nuzzle his ear with my lips. “FWB's choice.”