Don’t Tell Our Husbands! (Part One)

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By Lauren McAllister

Debra and I had been the best of friends for over 10 years. That’s an inch-and-a-half in breast-dropping years. We would get together most days and joyously bitch about the price of milk and our husbands. They were nice enough guys but, truth be told, I much preferred Debbie’s company to Jack’s. Especially, after a couple of glasses of afternoon wine. Man, that girl could make you laugh.

We had sooo much fun together but our relationship took a rather radical turn due to some inclement weather. It had been a quite an unseasonably chilly September. Something about a wind or perhaps it was some tourists coming down from Canada? Anyway, it was fucking glacial inside and out and Debbie needed a new, thicker nightie. She was freezing her cute little patout off in the one she was traditionally enswathed. Her go-to boudoir attire had been a short, thin, come-hither number but after 15 years of marriage, she said she’d rather stay warm and get that extra fifteen minutes of sleep.

So, we hit our favorite clothing store, Debs quickly gathered up a few snug-looking possibilities and we headed into the change room to check them out. She wanted to see how warm it was actually going to be in a real life situation so she took all her clothes off. She didn’t ask me to duplicate Doug’s snoring (Christ, you could hear him from our house) but being sans attire would give her a reasonable approximation of the wee small hours at Chez Debra’s.

It was a cramped changing area so the act of disrobing with me in the cubicle was a pretty up-close-and-personal affair. At one point, she was bending over checking something out and I her naked rump was pressed against my pelvis. I gave it a friendly smack and said, “You’ve still got a really nice ass there, Deb.”

“Ooh, I like a little slap and tickle,” she replied.

“Well, if I ever decided to bat for the other team, you’d be my first choice,” I offhandedly remarked.

She stood up and turned around with a big smile on her face. Her naked breasts were touching my clothed ones and I felt a little rush of something stirring between my legs.  They were so pink and plump, I was struck with the overwhelming urge to reach up and explore them at length but propriety forbade me from violating her modesty. 

“Are you saying you’re attracted to me?” she grinned.

She seemed strangely delighted by the idea.

“What? Me? No. You’re a woman. I just said, if… “

“But you’ve had the odd roll around with a member of the same sex, right?”

“Well, no.”

“How could I not know this about you?”

Deb was so close to me now, another step and she’d have been behind me. I became a little flustered by how turned on I was by the smell and the feel of her.

“I tell you what, why don’t we go to back my place and test out the mattress in the guest bedroom before Doug gets home?”

I was almost too stunned to think. “Are you asking me to… ?”

She leaned in and kissed me. But not a cute little girlfriend kiss. A full on, mouth open, tongues-touching smooch. She’d grabbed my butt with one hand and was stroking my left boob with the thumb of her other. I tensed for a second and then I just melted. If felt so warm and wet and wonderful to be connected with her that way. I tentatively fondled her posterior until she reached back and pushed my fingers all the way into her ass-crack.

I must have been leaning too hard against the change room wall because a clerk called out, “Is everything all right in there?”

“Shit,” Deb laughed. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

She quickly got dressed, bought two of the fluffiest gowns and then we raced back to her house. Her front door wasn’t closed for more than a half second before we were pulling clothes off each other like they were on fire and with complete disregard for the integrity of the materials! When the very last stitch was hurriedly removed, Deb dashed up the stairs with damaged attire in hand. As I watched her beautiful naked frame ascend the oak steps like a Greek goddess, my pussy literally ached for her. Seconds later, when our sleek, supple and unadorned bodies finally achieved congress on that oh-so-pricey memory-foam, church bells began ringing in my vaginal cathedral. The feel of her buttery skin and soft lips as we touched and licked and celebrated the glory of our womanly flesh begat ecstasies beyond my wildest imaginings. Her exquisite, delicate hand voyaged down my stomach and seductively slipped between my outer lips, descending to the very bottom of my girlie crevice. Yearning to reciprocate in kind, I lingually caressed her aroused and jutting nipples as she played my labia like a Stradivarius. And then more kissing! Her tender and fragile mouth against mine was like tasting pure love. Our tongues were like poets, penning sonnets of ultimate affection. I lifted my leg between hers so my upper thigh would be awash in the sweet, silky womanly nectar emanating from the epicenter of her sexual being. Deb pushed her viscid mound upwards and ground it lubriciously against my hip bone before expertly flipping me onto my back. She now towered over my laid bare femininity. I spread my legs hungrily and gazed into her perfect eyes as she grasped the roundness of my fundament and drove her swollen pudenda into mine. We continued to love each other with kisses as deep as the sea as our heaving breasts danced together upon our chests. Now we were as one in a common goal. Our vulva became a battle ground of violent advances and retreats. She thrust her raging tumescence into my incandescent harbor so our libidinous dew swirled and merged in the very heart of our sex. Breathing became more hurried and our motions more obscene. The blinding desire to have all of her inside me became unbearable. I pull her so tight; I feared that I might crush her. My holes were hers to take and savage as she wished. I surrendered all.

Then, within a flap of an angel’s wing, we had simultaneously been swept away on the irreversible amatory tide, where sense and reason cease and desperation begins. Faces once serene and full of joy now turned tortured and strained. The entire universe was reduced to a clitoral singularity. The swelling and the throbbing and the tightening within brought on a thrashing madness unbound. It was close, so unbearably, achingly close that it feels like you might burst open. And then you do. Sensations that rock your very core rise up through your vaginal path and explode into your torso like a sensual petard, firing scalding, pulsating cum shrapnel throughout your being. Your nipples twitch like they’ve been struck by a teacher’s cane. Your mouth droops open stupidly. Your eyes bulge out and your head jerks forward like you’re being strangled. Climatic spasms batter your solar plexus like a hail of fists and toss your ravaged body about like a drunken puppeteer.

But then, just as quickly, the cyclone of insanity passes and a cool and silent calm descends upon the world. You lay in each others arms as you float on a morphinous cloud of tranquility and satiation.

And then you hear the door.

“Holy fuck, Dougie’s home!”

I was scrambling to find clothes and cover up various tell-tale wet-sports on the bed sheets as Deb grabbed one of her new nighties and bolted down the stairs.

“Suzie and I were just trying on some new stuff we bought,” Debra blurted out much too quickly to be innocent of all misdeeds, “What do you think?”

I finished dressing, tried to drain as much of the deep red flush out of my face as possible and wandered down casually to say hello to my best friend’s husband.

Luckily, because we were both of the fairer sex, he didn’t think anything of our undone-ness. If I came home and Doug and Jack were scampering out of a bedroom in various states of undress, I’m afraid to say it would be a different story entirely. Actually, in a way, I might kind of like that. Blush.

So, how had Deb and I waited ten whole years to do this wondrous thing? We didn’t wait another 10, that’s for fucking sure. One of our dear significant others only needed to get halfway down the driveway before the two of us made a beeline each other’s naughty parts.

Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy cock. In fact, Deb and I are trying to figure out a way to bring the boys into our concupiscent clubhouse, so we won’t have be endlessly sneaking around and pretending to try on clothes. But that is story is for another day.

Copyright Lauren McAllister 2022

book number one

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