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Note: I wrote 4 parts of my story in another subreddit. This is a walkthrough story that I am actually living right now. I will keep posting a new part every few days until it catches up to the present, and then I’ll update whenever something new actually happens.
We’ve been tight since college. I go over to his place all the time, couple times a month at least. We drink beer, watch whatever game is on, bullshit about life. His wife is usually there too, and honestly she’s just nice. Not gorgeous, not ugly, nothing crazy. Mid 30s, normal body, soft brown hair she usually throws up in a ponytail, decent curves, pretty smile.
About six months ago my friend started dropping hints. We’d be chilling on the couch and out of nowhere he’d say shit like “you ever see those videos where the husband just watches another guy with his wife?” I’d kind of freeze, then laugh and switch the topic to the score or some stupid meme. Another time when she was in the kitchen he leaned in and said real quiet, “Man, my wife gives the best head. Like” I acted like I didn’t really hear him and asked about his work or whatever. He kept bringing it up every visit, cuck stuff, hotwife fantasies, little hints that got less and less subtle. I didn’t want things to get awkward and lose him over some fantasy that could fuck everything up.
Last Friday he texted me to come over tonight, soon as I walked in I could feel something was off. He was way too pumped, pouring strong drinks before I even took my jacket off. His wife was her normal self, jeans and a baggy sweater, smiling, asking how my week was, talking about her job. She had zero clue what he was doing, I’m sure of it.
Then he started disappearing. Every time he left the room it was just me and her on the couch. Conversation was easy like always. At one point I looked up and caught him standing in the doorway just, watching us with this weird little smile on his face.
He kept pushing the drinks hard. She was sipping slowly, not really trying to get drunk. I was nursing mine, heart pounding because I knew exactly what he was trying to set up. And the whole time my brain kept replaying all those times he bragged about her blowjobs, I hate that it turned me on, but it did.
Around 11 I stood up to leave, he looked pissed off. She gave me a quick hug at the door, nothing weird, he walked me out to the car, slapped my shoulder and invited me again next Saturday.
I drove home half hard the whole way, stomach in knots. I still don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do. But he already invited me again for this Saturday. I keep telling myself I’m just going over for beers and food like normal. But I already know something’s probably going to happen.
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