Stu’s new wife is far from bashful when given the opportunity to bed her husband’s best pal!

My best friend and I have shared everything — apartments, cars, food and, eventually, women. Time and life took me and Dylan to opposite ends of the country for a while, but we always stayed in touch.

My wife knew all about Dylan and our predilection for sharing. Still, the two of them didn’t meet in person until the day of our wedding.

When I saw him chatting up my beautiful bride at the bar that night, I knew I couldn’t wait until the honeymoon was over to see him screw her. I sidled up to the bar purposefully and situated myself between the two of them.

“Dylan, glad to see you’ve finally met Lara. You should join us in our suite later tonight for a private toast.”

We all knew what that meant. The blush that bloomed on Lara’s cheeks was made all the more noticeable by her white wedding dress.

She looked past me, her eyes landing on Dylan as she said, “Yes, you should definitely join us later.”

Dylan smiled and said, “It’s a date, and I can’t wait.”

It’s a wonder any of us were able to wait until the reception ended to sneak away. The moment we said goodbye to the last guest, Dylan was at our side.

“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing gallantly toward the sweeping staircase that led to the hotel’s suites.

With the door of our room safely locked behind us, Lara turned her attention from me to Dylan.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” she said, taking hold of his hand. She led him to the king-size bed.

“Let’s see what you’re hiding under these clothes.”

She slipped her hands beneath his lapels and pushed the jacket down his arms, allowing it to fall to the floor behind him.

“That’s better,” she said, looking pleased with herself.

While Lara unwrapped her wedding gift, I settled myself in the armchair tucked in the corner, which provided me with the perfect vantage point from which to observe and direct.

By the time I turned back to face my wife and best friend, Dylan was wearing nothing but his boxer shorts.

Lara, on the other hand, was still all gussied up in her gown. She reached around her back and popped a couple of buttons on her skirt. When she let go of the fabric, the mass of tulle fell to her feet, leaving my little wifey clad in nothing more than a crystal-encrusted bustier top, panties and white lace garters that held her thigh-highs in place.

I shifted in my seat. My erection tented the front of my pants, stretching the fabric near to bursting.

Dylan caught me watching and said, “Your wife is incredible, Stu. Though it comes as no surprise. You always did have excellent taste.”

“Thank you, Dylan.”

I owed him my gratitude for more than the compliment. Dylan’s words reminded me to focus on the scene playing out before me. That’s where I would find my satisfaction that night.

“Tell me what else you like about my wife,” I continued.

“I can see she has a sense of adventure,” he replied, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. “A quality I look forward to testing tonight.”

“Oh, she’s plenty adventurous, all right. What else?”

“I like the way her top lifts up her breasts. They’re popping over the edge just a bit. I want to pull those cups down and get to what’s beneath them.”

“Very good,” I said. “I think you should do that right now.”

Dylan looked at me, then back at my wife. He took a step forward, grabbed hold of the delicate lace that trimmed the top of the bustier and gave it a tug.

Lara gasped as her breasts spilled out.

“Tell me, Dylan, are they everything you expected?”

He swallowed hard and said, “Even better, I’d say.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now I want you to cup her breasts in your hands. Slide your thumbs over her nipples. Do they feel hard like the crystals on her bustier?”

Lara threw her shoulders back, lifting her breasts in a wanton bid for Dylan’s attention. They jiggled from the motion. 

He reached out and grabbed her boobs, cupping them in his hands. As requested, he paid special attention to her nipples. He rubbed his fingers over the pointy peaks, thrilling my wife.

Finally, he responded, “Yes. They’re hard, like little diamonds. I think this one could even cut glass,” he joked as he tweaked Lara’s right nipple. “Can I suck on them, Stu?”

“I wish you would.”

Dylan descended upon Lara’s breasts. His mouth moved over her, suckling each of her nipples in turn before heading down into the valley between her boobs for a quick nuzzle.

“I also like her ass,” Dylan volunteered. He reached around to Lara’s backside and gave her cheeks a squeeze. “I think I want to kiss you here next,” he told her. 

“I’d like to see that,” I said.

“You heard your husband,” Dylan said teasingly. “Bend over the bed and show me that sweet ass.”

He swatted one of her cheeks to get her on her way.

“Make sure you spread your legs so I can see everything.”

She obeyed, lowering her tiny panties, before bending over and shifting her feet further apart. She was exposing everything from her pussy to her asshole.

“Arms and hands flat on the mattress,” he ordered, his voice taking on a sterner tone.

Of course, Lara complied.

Dylan looked back at me and smirked. “She’s obedient, too. Aren’t we lucky!”

He walked over to the bed and dropped to his knees, nestling himself in between her parted legs. His hands rested on her hips, holding her ass steady while he placed a soft kiss on either cheek.

“Oh yes,” he murmured.

He traced the tip of his nose along the curve of her cheek, dancing along the edge of her ass crack. One finger circled the skin surrounding her asshole and closed in on her bull’s-eye.

Lara shivered when he reached his destination. He tapped at the tiny opening, teasing her.

“Maybe I’ll sample this, too,” Dylan said before laying a kiss right on her asshole.

Then he started rimming her, softly teasing her rear hole with his tongue. Gradually, his actions increased in intensity. His lips sealed around Lara’s asshole, and judging by her delighted gasps and giggles, his tongue must have shimmied its way inside.

Lara’s supple cheeks muffled the sound of Dylan’s satisfied hum, but I understood the sentiment all the same. Eating Lara’s ass is a transcendent experience. The way she moans and writhes beneath you. The way her legs start to twitch, a telltale sign that you’ve driven her into a frenzy.

Fuck, I love that feeling. And finally I was having the experience of sharing it with my best friend.

Dylan lifted his head and said to Lara, “Let’s see how you liked that.”

He fully unhooked her bustier before taking hold of her hips and flipping her onto her back. Now my panting wife was facing him, and he trailed his fingertips through the valley between her breasts all the way down to her belly and, finally, caressed her mound. After a brief stop to stroke Lara’s clit, he plunged two of his fingers into her pussy.

“Oh, she’s so wet, Stu,” he said with a groan. “You sure you don’t want to check for yourself?”

“I trust you, man.”

Even from where I sat, I could see Dylan’s fingers were glistened with my wife’s juices. I didn’t need to test her wetness with my own hands to be sure. Still, I wanted him to experience every part of her.

“Tell me, Dylan, how does Lara taste?”

He pulled his fingers from her depths and lifted them to his lips. His tongue darted out to sample her juices briefly before he sucked his thick digits between his lips to clean them of every bit of her honey.

Finally, he spoke, “So fucking sweet, man. Like candy I stole from a store — I know she’s not mine, and that makes her taste even better.”

Dylan always did have a way with words.

My busty bride was into the dirty talk, too. She was practically panting, her breaths were coming short and fast, making her breasts bob enticingly.

Dylan brought his fingers back to Lara’s pussy, jamming them in and out to coat them once more with her wetness before he brought them to her lips.

“It’s your turn, Lara. Tell your doting husband how fucking sweet and delicious you are.”

My balls grew tight with anticipation. Watching Lara finger-fuck herself was another favorite pastime of mine. Seeing her suck the dew from her fingers afterward is the icing on the cake. But this time, I would have the added pleasure of watching her sample those same juices from my best friend’s fingers!

“Don’t keep us waiting, Lara,” I prodded.

At first, she mimicked Dylan’s actions by daintily licking his fingers. But what started as quick, delicate swipes progressed into a full-on tongue bath. She aggressively wiggled her tongue in between his digits, making sure she licked up every last bit. The entire time, her gaze never wavered from Dylan. She was laser-focused on her partner, watching him intently.

Long after the last of her flavor was lapped off of Dylan’s fingers, Lara sucked his digits into her mouth. She was really milking it now. Judging by the way her thighs were clenched, I was willing to bet she’d rather be sucking Dylan’s dick than his fingers.

Just when I thought I might lose my mind waiting for the action to progress, Lara’s lips parted to release Dylan’s fingers. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back as if to savor her own unique flavor.

“Sweet and sour,” she said. “Like honey and lemon.”

“Spot on,” Dylan replied. “What do you think, Stu? Do you agree?”

I nodded and commented, “I do love to eat your pussy, darling.”

Dylan sank to his knees again. He brushed his lips over her inner thigh and ran his thumbs along her bikini line.

“Thank you for sharing your incredible wife with me,” he said, seemingly unable to tear his gaze away from her naked pussy.

I found myself swallowing my reply as Dylan dove headfirst into my wife’s snatch. Her thighs hugged his head tight, mussing up his hair. But that didn’t stop Dylan. If anything, it seemed to spur him on. While his mouth was busy ravishing Lara’s clit, his hand moved from her thigh to her slit. He seemed to be using his fingers to caress her folds, getting his digits all lubed up before finger-fucking her cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” Lara groaned. She twisted the sheets in her clenched fingers and pounded her fists on the mattress. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!”

Her hips bucked, but Dylan didn’t miss a beat. He was perfectly in sync with Lara, and it showed. All the signs of impending orgasm were there — the fluttering eyelashes, parted lips, and cute, scrunched-up nose. My bride was seconds away from coming on my best friend’s face, and I had a great view.

“Don’t stop now, Dylan, I know that look. She’s right on the edge.”

Dylan, good man that he is, didn’t stop. Instead, he kicked his actions into high gear. His whole body shook from the force of him finger-banging my wife.

“That’s right, Dylan. Drive her home for me.”

Lara had wrapped her legs entirely around his head and was digging her heels into his back.

“Oh God — yes,” she cried.

Lara skimmed her hands up her squirming body and cupped her own tits. She squeezed her heaving mounds and tweaked her pink nipples between her thumbs and forefingers before releasing them with a yelp.

By that point, her moans were definitely loud enough to be heard in the hotel hallway. I smiled at the thought of people listening to my wife having the time of her life in the honeymoon suite, while they waited for the elevator.

It thrilled me even more that they’d assume it was her husband making her cry out in ecstasy — instead of her hubby’s best bud.

Lara squirmed, shouted and bucked, and the entire time her body was in rapture, Dylan kept on licking. He rode every wave with her, giving her body all that it needed and more.

After her tremors subsided, Lara propped herself upon her elbows and tapped Dylan’s head to get his attention.

“Kiss me. I want to taste myself on your lips.”

Dylan hooked an arm around Lara’s back and pulled her close and kissed her as if his life depended on it. He stroked her tongue with his own, letting her experience exactly what they tasted like together.

Dylan didn’t break the lip-lock until he was crawling on top of my wife on the bed. He turned to look at me and asked, “Do you mind if I go bareback?”

I shook my head. If anything, I preferred it.

“As long as she’s OK with it,” I added.

“Go for it, baby,” Lara purred.

“Break her in for me, brother,” I told my pal.

Dylan planted his feet on the floor and curled his fingers into the fleshy bit just beneath Lara’s ass. A quick tug brought her right to the edge of the mattress, placing her pussy perfectly level with Dylan’s dick.

Lara locked her ankles around Dylan’s back to reel him in and ordered, “Fuck me!”

He slammed his hips against Lara, plunging his dick inside her in one fluid motion.

Enthralled, I leaned forward in my seat to get a closer look. Lara had one hand on her breast and the other tucked between her legs to toy with her clit.

Unable to control myself for another second, I ripped open my pants and gripped my dick with my fist.

Keeping my eyes firmly fixed on

Dylan and Lara, I stroked my cock slowly, gliding from the base to the tip and back. A slick of silky pre-come quickly collected on my crown, so I swiped my hand over and used it to grease my shaft.

“My God, you’re tight,” Dylan grunted.

He reached between their bodies, stopping Lara from working her clit, and placed that hand on her free breast.

“Let me do the honors,” he said.

He lifted his thumb to her lips and drawled, “Get me wet.”

Lara didn’t hesitate. She sucked Dylan’s thumb into her mouth with such force that her cheeks grew hollow.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Dylan said. “Keep sucking.”

He finally freed this thumb from her mouth, producing a wet, smacking sound.

“Is there anything she can’t do, Stu?”

By that point, I wasn’t capable of speaking. My erection pulsed against my palm, demanding satisfaction.

Dylan looked over his shoulder and smiled.

“Ah, I see,” he said.

He looked back at Lara and told her, “Your husband is enjoying himself. How about we put on a show for him?”

Dylan started to pick up speed. He angled his hips just so, and if my wife’s moans were anything to go by, I’d say he’d found her G-spot and was punching his cock against it repeatedly as he massaged her clit with his spit-slickened thumb.

“Oh yeah,” Lara groaned.

Her back bowed, lifting her torso off the mattress, as she begged, “Don’t stop!”

Though her words weren’t meant for me, I took them to heart. I was so fucking close to coming I could taste it. I wasn’t even moving my fist anymore. No, I was straight humping my hand, fucking myself with such fervor that the chair’s legs scraped along the hardwood floor.

“Yes,” she cried. “Yes, just like that.”

I curled the fingers of my free hand into the plush arm of the chair, willing myself to slow down so I could reach orgasm along with my wife. She looked absolutely gorgeous beneath my friend. Her flushed skin seemed to glow under the soft light of the bedside lamp.

She propped herself on her elbows and looked down at where their bodies were joined.

“Make me come, Dylan. Please, make me come!”

Dylan reached around her and slipped his free hand under Lara’s ass. From her delighted expression, I knew he had to be fingering her asshole.

“Holy fuck,” she groaned, losing control once more. “Oh, Dylan. Dylan, yes! Yes!”

That was it, the moment the two people I most cared about in the world would fall to pieces right before my eyes.

I gritted my teeth and picked up the pace. My dick’s silky skin slipped easily against my palm. I pumped harder and faster, allowing the sounds of my wife’s pleasure to guide me as I sought my own.

I love how expressive Lara is in the bedroom. It’s one of my favorite things about her, and that wanton behavior was on full display that night.

Come spurted from my cock just as Lara surrendered to her own mind-bending orgasm. I watched intently as her fingers flexed against her breasts. Meanwhile, my own spunk dripped over my fingers and onto my lap. But how could I care while my wife was experiencing such bliss? Her arms and legs were twitching. Every last bit of her body was coming undone, and I was lucky enough to bear witness to it all.

Not too long after, Dylan reached his own peak. He collapsed on the mattress next to Lara, the three of us utterly exhausted.

I jumped up on the bed to join them and settled myself on the far end. They were still caught in a tangle of limbs. I found myself wondering if they might even find the energy to go at it again later. Until then, I was content to sit back and enjoy the sight of them, naked and spent.

We all shared the marital bed that night, and the following morning, too. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.