I Finally Fucked My Ex’s Best Friend And It Was Just As Mind-Blowing In Real Life As I’d Always Imagined

Mario Antonio Pena Zapatería Follow
Mario Antonio Pena Zapatería

It was forbidden. I knew that.
I think that’s exactly why I wanted it so bad.


I timed my bath perfectly. As I turned off the water, I could hear Max’s hands fumbling with the front doorknob, then the scuff of his shoes on the welcome mat.

“One second!” I called out, drawing out my syllables slowly.

I wanted him to know where I was.

I wanted to see his face when I walked out in just a towel.

I could hear him cross the living room and settle into a sofa chair. I imagined what he looked like—probably his usual Nikes, athletic shorts, sweatshirt, and hat flipped backwards. I’d always been so attracted to him, that casual sort of confidence that only a former collegiate basketball player can have. Fucking sexy.

I ran my fingers loosely through my hair, then tossed it so it fell naturally around my shoulders. I wanted to look effortless, as if I hadn’t planned for him to come over at just this moment, as if I hadn’t wanted to fuck him since I first laid eyes on him.

I opened the bathroom door slowly, letting the steam waft out and giving myself a second to breathe.

“I’m so sorry. I kind of lost track of time.”

I let out a small giggle. Fuck, was I nervous?

He smiled, then looked down at the floor. “It’s fine, I’ll just, er—give you a minute to get dressed.” He got on his feet as if to leave.

“No, really, it’s okay.” I nodded towards my bedroom door. “I actually need your help in here.”

I took a step towards him, holding the towel loosely around my chest so that the line of my cleavage was barely visible. I could see his eyes travel from my face to my neck, then from my collarbone to my chest. It sent a shiver down my spine.

He slowly rose from the couch to follow me.

Fuck. This was happening.

Truth is, I actually called Max over to help me move my furniture and fix a broken shelf—real, legitimate, and a job for a post-collegiate basketball player type of man. A sexy, fuckable, always-wanted-but-never-could-have type of man.

I hadn’t necessarily planned on seducing him. Not at first.

But walking through the door to my bedroom, seeing my black lace bra on the floor where I had thrown it, and my sheets looking so clean, so ready, I said fuck it.

I was having sex with my ex’s best friend. And it was happening now.

I turned to face him. He was leaning against my bedroom door, his arms stretched above his head and hanging from to the top of the frame. I could see the muscles on his arms exposed through the thin shirt sleeves.

We locked eyes. I could feel my heart pound in my chest.

We both knew what the other was thinking.


I took a step closer to him, close enough to smell his aftershave and the lingering, sweet smell of his sweat. It made me lightheaded.

“I really need your help with something.” Holding my towel in one hand, I leaned my body against his chest, and stepped on my tip toes, reaching a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him towards me. “Can you help me?”

His muscles tensed. I could feel his erection as I pushed my hips into his. He looked down at me with those dark brown eyes and slowly, so fucking slowly, moved his hands from the doorframe to my shoulders.

I took my hand away from his neck and ran my fingers down towards his chest. His hands were warm and heavy on my shoulders. I stared at him, tried to give him my most innocent look.

“Please,” I cooed, “I really, really need your help.”

We both knew what I needed.

His hands slid lower on my shoulders, reaching the line of the towel tucked under my arms. He fingered the wet fabric, then slowly reached his forefinger underneath the cloth, carefully moving my hand out of the way.

He leaned forward, put his lips to my chest and murmured.

“Goddamn, You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

My knees buckled in response. With a gentle motion, he pulled away the towel, letting it drop to the floor.

I stood naked in front of him, and watched as his eyes traveled over my body. Slowly. Taking every inch of me in.

“Fuck. Your body’s incredible.”

He cupped my breasts in his hands. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back as he put them in his mouth, alternating between sucking and flicking my nipples with his tongue.

I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter.

I grabbed his hair with one hand, pulling his head back; the other dug into the skin in his back.

“I want you,” I whispered.

He pulled away from me, then ripped off his shirt and picked me up in one quick motion. He threw me on the bed and hovered over me with his shorts still on and a smirk on his face.

“I’m going to make you beg for me.”


My body jolted in response. I wanted him so bad.

Before I knew what was happening, he slid his fingers in me and I gasped. He pushed deeper, pulsing quickly, slowly, then quickly again. A rhythm that made my body both tingle and squirm with pleasure.

He knew what the hell he was doing. That’s for sure.

I closed my eyes and moaned. Every touch, every pulse was fucking amazing.

“I love it when you moan,” he said, pushing his fingers deeper, making me arch my back with pleasure. “Now I wanna know what you sound like when I’m inside you.”

My body quivered. I was out of control, intoxicated by his every touch. He was going to make me cum. And I was powerless.

With his fingers still inside me, he maneuvered his body and pulled down his pants, revealing the cock I’d been fucking dreaming about for months.

That forbidden body part, that goddamn forbidden man. I wanted all of him.

He slid his fingers out and his penis inside me in one motion. He felt so full. So fucking good. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, but he saw me and tugged at my bottom lip.

“Don’t you hold back. I wanna hear you. I wanna hear you scream.”

Fuck. Fuck Fuck.

I cried out, breathy and uncontrollably as he thrusted again and again. I was already so close to cumming it was unbelievable. My fingernails dug into his back and he bit my collarbone as he reached his own orgasm. I could feel his body—every thick, strong muscle, the warmth of his chest pressed against mine.

“Moan.” He commanded as he thrust even deeper and I did. I moaned. And I moaned. And I pulled him closer to me as he came.

His fingers slid back inside me and he pulsed again. My entire body clenched, then released and I cried out as I came.

He kissed my collarbone at the spot where he had bitten it, a mix of both pain and pleasure.

“I think we should keep this our little secret,” he said, his lips pressed into my tender skin. “I think you’re going to need a lot more of my help.” Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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