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My best friend and I have all the time had a discreet carnal relationship. Since we met at uni five years ago, we’ve enjoyed each other’s business very much – both inside and outside the bedroom.

We gave it a go at uni as a couple, but decided we weren’t emotionally a match and it ended amicably – but the sex never stopped. We were having sex on almost daily basis, even after breaking up.

Our sex drives were a complete match. Whenever she wanted it, she’d just tease me a bit, and whenever she wanted, I’d just kiss her neck. There’s not a surface on the communal kitchen that wasn’t either fucked on, or covered in cum at some point. I think she’d spent more time on her knees in the hallway than any other person in the history of that dorm. But, apart from a few friends knowing that we dated for a bit, no one knew just how filthy and just how frequent the sex was. We’d fuck in each others dorms, friends empty rooms (we were both the responsible ones in our friendship groups), lecture hall toilets, night club toilets, anywhere where we could be alone – and no one knew a thing. We loved the idea that no one knew – it was a thrill. People knew we’d gave it a try for about 3 months, but no one knew that we’d had more sex than conversations during that time – mainly because the conversations never amounted to anything.

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Nonetheless, uni finished, and she started working. She met a guy about a couple of months in to the new job, and we knew at that point that this was the end of our undercover meetups (which were still happening in hotels, cars, once in my new office, and her parents house). She met the guy while at a destination wedding; they both came back to live and work in the same city, so naturally they went on a date. For the first three weeks of their relationship, she would only hint at stuff, never actually talking about their sex life. We would still talk on a daily basis, but I could tell she wanted me to ask, and for me to tell her. I wanted to know about her sex life, because that’s one of my kinks (hence why I’m here!), but I enjoyed watching her squirm, waiting for me to ask if they fucked at the end of their date. But after three weeks, she couldn’t hold it anymore, she just HAD to tell me everything.

She got licked out on the first date, had sex on the second, and was already fucking him the back of his car by the third. She was insatiable, and he was trying to keep up. She spilled her guts to me about how he was reorganising her guts, and how they’d been fucking and cuddling, and actually talking and it was becoming a proper relationship. But she felt like something was missing – she said that he just wasn’t me. She wanted to talk to me, and she wanted to talk about sex. She said she misses our sex, because each of us was different, but since she couldn’t fuck me, she could at least talk about it.

I know why she wanted to tell me – for the same reason I wanted to know – so we can think about it afterwards when we needed to get off. She knew I would get hard to her stories, and she knew I would jerk off to the wondered of her riding a guy in the backseat of a car. And she loved the thrill of another man getting off to her without anyone knowing. So the stories never stopped, I would hear about every single detailed fuck she would have – and I loved it and I knew she was enjoying every minute of it too.

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She went on a weekend fuckfest with the guy to the beach – and never saw the sand. Between every single round she’d just send me a number. “Six, four, just one.” The number of orgasms the last session just had. The total count for the weekend was 32, over the course of 19 hours of fucking.

After about three months, we were talking as we do. We had a set date/time to meet because we enjoyed the fixed secret talking session. And during one session – it got too much to handle. I could see her nipples through her white and red patterned top – she didn’t wear a bra. She was wearing denim jeans, light blue panties, and I knew her heart was beating fast. We kissed, she mounted me, and we fucked. I came inside her so hard, like a virgin who had never been fucked before.

After we fucked that day, she just said – “it felt right”. So, we continued. She would fuck him 6 days a week, and distribute the stories with me every day, and I would fuck her once a week, cum inside her, and he would get my sloppy seconds. She loved being a secret slut – and only I knew the extent of it.

That wasn’t all, luckily for me. I got to see everything throughout their relationship. Every dirty snap got sent to me, every lingerie she got was bought with my instruction and “tested” with me first. Every piece of sexual activity was shared between me and her – and he had no idea. This woman was fulfilling the sexual needs of two men, and one was none the wiser.

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Fast forward two years – and she’s now getting married in about two weeks. We’re still fucking, and it’s all still a secret. One day, she messages me to tell me she’s gonna be late to our meetup, but it’s fine because he’s gonna be out till later anyway. I meet her at her place that day, and as I walk in she’s standing there – in her wedding dress and full make up on – two weeks before her wedding.

I hadn’t seen the dress before, nor had I known much about it – but I could clearly see that she had done something special just for me. When we did date briefy, I said I wanted her wedding dress to be maximum cleavage, with lifted boobs (like a wonderbra). That way, I could enjoy the sight of side-boob throughout our wedding (if we got married), while everyone would stare agog at the epic boobage I was marrying into. And that’s exactly what she did – and she knew it. My jaw dropped at the sight of it, and the only thing she said was “it’s exactly how you wanted it.” She had picked and altered a dress that would please me, even though she was marrying someone else.

She said the dress arrived, and she got her make up trial done, so after everyone left, she put it on knowing I’m coming over. She wanted me to fuck her in her wedding dress before her husband did, because after her wedding day, she had no excuses to wear it again.

So I sat there on the bed, while she lifted her self and her dress onto my cock and started bouncing on me. Sucking her boobs were more difficult than typical because I couldn’t be aggressive with the dress given the cleavage, but damn did I do my best, I just couldn’t leave any marks or rip it. But her ass has never been slapped so hard, her tits never bitten so sharply, and that pussy has never been more wet.

I got some cum on that dress – it was impossible not to launch some given how gorgeous she looked – but she let it dry as it was on the inside and said “this is our little secret”.

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To this day (4 months after the wedding), we still fuck. I still get to see everything, every snap, every piece of lingerie, and get to know about every thrust.

The plan is tightly nit, we both win, and we’re both very careful at maintaining this arrangement.

NSFW: yes

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