We met Tom, husband to Myra, in Part 1, where he discovered the joy of cock and cheating on the wife with his married best friend Eric.
Part 2 - Her Best Friend
"Hey Josh," Tom texted. He'd been thinking about his first encounter with a man all day. Tom and his wife, Myra, had spent Saturday morning cleaning, making breakfast, and accomplishing general house chores.
Myra noticed Tom was preoccupied all morning. She spent more time giving him direction as if he were a helpless baby than she typically had to. Men, she thought, rolling her internal eyes.
Myra didn't know, though, that Tom was thinking about Eric's cock, the taste of his cum, his large body, and his dark skin. Eric was his best friend for at least a decade now. To find out that this masculine married man was into dick, and helped Tom satisfy his curiosity, was both red-hot arousing and freeing.
Tom sensed he liked dick a lot. Cleaning the bathtub, Tom wondered why he felt unchanged. He'd always thought messing around with a man somehow colored your insides differently--that it would be a complete awakening to a whole new life. It might be, but not in the way Tom expected.
Since Eric and Tom had deepthroated, Tom realized he could like dick and enjoy pleasuring a man while also loving his wife. He could be attracted to other women and go about his days as if nothing had happened. No one knew or would suspect that in his 30s, he discovered the joys of the penis.
He watched his own muscular, tattooed arms wipe the grime away. His hair, untied and tucked behind his ears, felt like a cape hiding his salacious thoughts.
Tom felt little guilt about his fling with Eric. When he got home, he was surprised by the thrill of having cum in his stomach. He kissed his wife when he got home, clueless to the taste of dick on his tongue. His love for Myra hadn't waned in the slightest. It grew stronger knowing that she loved him while he sought pleasure from someone else.
It made him friskier too. They'd had sex--glorious, earth-shattering sex--every day that week. He somehow felt more masculine, which made him more animalistic. It was almost like he was in charge. He could please both men and women and bask in his freedom to come home after making someone else orgasm, then do the same for his wife. The realization that he could please and be pleased by more people than his committed wife made him hard and hungry for more.
"Tom?" Myra hollered from the hall.
"Yeah," Tom replied. He had to pull himself out of the deep, adulterous thoughts. He heard her approaching the bathroom.
"I'm gonna head out," Myra said.
"Okay." Tom scrubbed.
"You mind hanging up that new art while I'm out?"
"By myself? How am I supposed to do that?"
"I don't know. Get Eric to come by."
"He's golfing," said Tom, annoyed. He turned to face her.
"I don't know then. Ask Josh. He never has anything to do."
Tom thought about how Eric said he'd been fooling around with their wives' best friend. In his mind's eye, Tom pictured Josh's ass--a booty that lifted every pant he wore. Josh's jet-black, quaffed hair, high cheekbones, and smooth brown-butter skin vividly revealed themselves in his memory. Tom pictured Eric's big black cock entering both of Josh's holes.
"Tom? Hello?" Myra said, waving to break Josh's spell over Tom. "You need his number?"
Tom quickly finished cleaning after Myra had gone. She'd be gone for hours. Eric mentioned keeping the wife happy would prevent any raised suspicions, so Tom thought letting Myra go on a shopping spree with friends was ideal. To some, it might seem like an unknowing bribe. If I buy you this, promise not to notice that I cheated?
Tom's dick twitched when he thought about the word 'cheating.' This week, he had stood in the mirror and quietly called himself a cheater while Myra made dinner. He repeated the word many times, hoping to feel the pang of guilt required for all adulterous people. He got away with it and wanted to do it again.
Indeed others felt the same as he did. He went to the office after taking a shower. His man bun was wet and high. He sat at the desk in boxer briefs, opened the laptop, and searched for cheating experiences.
He found himself down a rabbit hole for at least thirty minutes. Many must people share the same love for cheating--from all angles and perspectives and in all manners of sexuality and types of sex.
He read posts in forums from men and women who secretly wished their spouses would cheat. He read about women who got pregnant by a stranger, only to play it off as their husband's child. Stories about dead bedrooms and neglected spouses were aplenty. He read about men greedy for cock, taking every opportunity to take one behind their partners' backs. Cucking and cuckqueaning and hotwifing were of particular interest to him. He read about people who cheated just for the thrill of cheating--rhyme or reason other than hedonism and emotional sadism. Many in these forums would call this 'cruel cheating.' Cheating just for the sake of it. One story of a married man hooking up with a gay neighbor involved the homewrecker sucking on the man's ring finger while getting reamed from behind.
He felt most strongly connected to the latter. He'd always gotten a hard-on when his wife cried for whatever reason. And the thought of her shedding tears, because he had sex with someone else sent heat through his chest. And to be with someone who enjoyed that he was married--that he was taken but ate his cake too--made his cock stiff in his underwear. He needed to find people like this. They were out there; he just wasn't sure where.
Tom loved his wife--he'd swear under oath to it--and was a man of great empathy. But it was a revelation to Tom that he sometimes needed to turn the empath switch off. He needed to be cruel in some ways without actually hurting anyone. What better way to do it than find physical pleasure in it.
Tom stopped himself short of pulling out his cock. He closed the laptop, though that didn't slow his imagination. He mindlessly wandered into the living room and saw the art he was supposed to hang up. A lightbulb went off, bright and warm above the crown of his head, the heat creeping down his torso to the center of his pelvis where the muscles ached, yearned.
Josh. Josh was married. He was fucking Eric, who was married. Tom thought Josh wouldn't hesitate to get on his married cock. Myra would be gone for hours. She'd shop and likely go out to dinner with her friends. Tom had the house to himself and might as well make use of it.
"Hey, who's this?" Josh texted back.
"Tom, Myra's husband. Sorry. Lol."
"Oh, hey! What's up?"
Tom's stomach churned. His balls shrank out of nervous anticipation of Josh's texts. "Myra's out with friends, and she asked me to hang up some art. I need help keeping them even and centered. You busy today?"
"Not at all," Josh replied. "30 mins, okay?"
"Yeah! I appreciate it," Tom replied. "C u soon."
"Sweet. Omw."
Tom, excited and nervous, ran to the bedroom to put on clothes. He looked in the mirror and didn't like his ensemble: sweatpants and a loose-fitting shirt. He took off his shirt. He looked at his skinny but toned frame. He relished his body--not replete with abs or impressive pecs, but slender, fit, and muscular in the right places. He looked at the hair on his sternum, the only chest hair he had, save for the small tufts around his nipples. He kept his crotch and belly clean-shaven--the V was more impressive that way.
He took off his sweatpants. Then his underwear. He found some gym shorts, put them on, smiled, and nodded. The head of his dick was visible under the thin gray fabric--this was how he wanted his wife's best friend to find him.
After a bit, Tom heard a knock on the door and answered. Josh smiled, clearly happy to see Tom's bare chest and tattooed arms. He looked like the kind of bad boy that Josh had always desired. If he were to cheat on his clean-cut, put-together husband, he'd prefer it to be with a bad boy.
Tom smiled back, happy to see Josh so pleased with his body. They exchanged hellos, and Tom pulled Josh in for a hug that lasted longer than expected. Josh, shorter than Tom, rested his head on Tom's bear chest. He felt Tom's back against his soft hands. Skin-to-skin always got Josh going--it was an intimacy he lacked from his constantly traveling husband.
