An Unforgivable Act

Thank you for reading my short story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England. All email comments good or bad are welcomed. I will try and reply to each and every one but please note that all email comments from an invalid or incomplete email address will be deleted immediately and will not be read. Rude or abusive comments may result in blocking. Please note that I am female and I write in British English.

I was in town for a little shopping. I needed a new slip for around the house, for on those days I didn't want to get dressed straight away, but something that I could pop a dress over the top of when I did need to get dressed. Marks and Spencer had been my first port of call and I managed to snag a beautiful white silk slip in just my size, I was delighted especially as they only had one and it happened to be my size. I was looking forward to trying it on when I got back home.

"Hello Mica," a voice broke me from my reverie.

"Oh, yes, hello Joe, sorry I was miles away, I really didn't see you there." Joe is Jenna's husband, my best friend from Uni days.

"Do you have a few minutes?" He asked, "if so we could grab a coffee somewhere?"

"Oh, yes, no worries, let's nip to Java Lounge, they do a decent coffee."

We wandered down the high street to Java Lounge, a coffee shop just outside the precinct. I like it in there, they have a coffee bean that is strong, but not bitter and they make a great flat white. Joe went and ordered and I grabbed a sofa in the back, away from the window to wait for him.

"They'll bring the drinks over in a minute," he said when he joined me.

"So, how are you doing Joe, Jenna alright?"

"Well, kind of, yes. That is what I wanted to chat to you about. I am not going to ask you to break any confidences, but has she said anything?"

Well, she had, she had said that she thought Joe was going off her, the sex had become mundane and he no longer initiated it, and I had made a few suggestions, but I wasn't going to tell him that.

"Gosh Joe, we had coffee just the other week and she said nothing, why?"

"Well, look, before I say anything, do you promise to keep it between us?"

"Probably, but I don't know what you are going to tell me, so it is not easy to simply say yes in case it is something, well, you know, serious."

"No, nothing like that."

"Okay then."

He took a deep breath and then spoke. "She might be having an affair."

"Wow, news to me, what makes you think that?"

"Well, she used to walk around naked or half naked at home, and that was great, I love her body, she is stonkingly beautiful, but now she covers up all the time, that isn't normal, not for her."

I smiled inwardly, she was doing exactly as I had suggested to her.

"Okay, wow, just that, I mean, er, not getting too personal, but how is the sex, is she, you know, refusing you, so to speak?"

"No, but I have to make all the moves, she never, you know, initiates anything, and she used to all the time. It makes me think she is seeing someone else."

"I doubt that, and if she is, when is she doing that? She certainly never ever gave me any clue that she might be when we met for coffee."

At that point the server arrived with our coffee, and a couple of pastries. My mouth deciding eating was a preferred option over talking, I never do both at the same time. I enjoyed my pastry and then took a drink of my coffee.

"Perhaps," I said after I had swallowed my coffee, "the magic has slipped, perhaps you are both just too comfortable with each other that the magic has slipped a little. I honestly don't think she is having an affair; I am pretty sure that if she were, that I would know about it. She would not be able to keep that big a thing secret from me. There would be clues, and believe me, when we met last week, there were no clues, no indications at all."

"Did she talk about sex, I mean, our sex life, you know what I am asking."

"Well now Joe, if she had, I wouldn't say anything if it had been in confidence, and contrary to many men's opinions, we women do not talk about our sex lives all the time." Actually, we do, but men don't need to know that. "I have no indication that there is anything wrong with your bedroom antics, well, not until you just spoke to me. And it doesn't sound wrong, just, well, boring."

"Boring?"

"Yes, sex is not just shag, roll over, sleep. Sex is exploring each other, exciting each other, teasing, tantalising, varying."

"Oh God, it is like being a fucking teenager again isn't it."

"Oh don't be so dramatic, you just need to add a little variety to your lives."

"What, different positions you mean?"

I despaired. Is that it for men? Variety means not doing it missionary style? Good grief, how has humanity endured?

"No Joe, although obviously that is a part of it, a very small part of it. When Jenna is in the kitchen, and you enter, walk up, kiss her on the neck and walk away, don't touch her in any other way. No groping or fondling, just a light peck on the neck. Believe me, that will do wonders. But not the time after when you go in the kitchen, next time, perhaps, just put your hand on her bum, not smack it, or stroke it, just a gentle touch, do you see what I mean? Variety, variety in your life, but sensual rather than sexual."

"I don't get it."

"No, you really don't, there is no hope for the two of you, you will be divorced within six months." I sat back and cradled my coffee. Obviously, I didn't expect them to divorce, not yet anyway, but they would eventually if they didn't get through this hole that they were in. It would take both of them, and Jenna seemed to have already started along the path I had suggested, but Joe hadn't even realised that there was an issue until Jenna changed her behaviours.

"Fuck, God no, we can't. There has to be something I can do; she is my life."

"Well, make her your whole life, look at her, watch her, make her feel wanted and desired. Not needed, needed is the wrong thing completely, to be desired is what she wants."

"I have no clue how to do that."

"Okay, stop and think a moment. Just pretend, and I do mean pretend, that you fancy me, that you want to get me into a room in the hotel next door. That is desire. You don't need to shag me, no, but you want to, do you see what I mean."

His eyes glazed over momentarily and he looked towards the door, towards the hotel, and then he looked back at me, his eyes travelled up and down my body, eyes focussing on my bust and on my lap. Crikey, had his brain actually imagined the unthinkable that I had suggested?

"Oh," he said, "yes, I suppose so."

"Yes, you need to imagine what you would say to me that would be sexy, attracting, without simply saying you want me naked and screaming in the hotel next door as your dick pumped in and out of me. That is man thinking, that is not how we women think."

His eyes were blanking again, and I had to admit that there was a little moistness in my lower area as my brain very briefly entertained the idea of shagging the life out of him. But that would be an unforgivable thing for me to do to my best friend. Wouldn't it, or would it be marriage counselling?

I was surprised by his next move. He leant forward and using the back of his hand, he wiped some hair off my face. Crumbs.

"You just had a straggler," he said, "and it was hiding your beauty."

Wow, he really was taking the method acting on board. I put my hand gently on his knee.

"Thank you," I said softly, my head tilting so I was looking up at him through my eye lashes.

He put his hand over mine and squeezed gently. I was all of a dither and unsure whether he was acting or practising, my fanny decided it didn't care either way.

"It does surprise me," Joe said, "that you do not have a long line of admirers following you about, I mean, you are, frankly, drop dead gorgeous, you are wonderfully intelligent, you could have any man that you wanted, yet you keep yourself to yourself, it seems odd."

"Perhaps," I answered quietly enough that he would have to lean further forward to clearly hear my words, "perhaps I do, and perhaps I like variety and just perhaps I value secrecy, no one knows, no one needs to know, just the lover and me with our discrete and private rendezvous."

"That is so much more alluring," he said, his mouth mere inches from mine, our breathes intermingling, the space between us heating up. His hand left my hand that was on his knee and wrapped itself around the middle of my thigh and squeezed, one finger straying higher up than the rest. I gasped and held my breath.

"Any man would be honoured to share your secrets," he whispered as his lips touched mine and his hand moved higher.

"We would need to be somewhere less public that a coffee shop," I sighed into his mouth, my tongue just moistening his lips.

"There is a place next door," he said, "that is very definitely very much more private."

It was now or never. Did I? Did I break the sacrosanct rules of friendship? I pressed my lips against his, his tongue pressed back. We could go no further here, not in the full view of the coffee shop and the hundreds walking past. This was the opposite of private and we either stopped now, or we went to the next stage.

I pulled away, breaking contact and looked him directly in the eyes.

"Either that was the best acting I have ever seen, or you need to book a hotel room right now."

He picked his phone up and pulled up the app for the hotel. He turned and showed me the screen. Confirmation of a double room booked. He stood and leant forward taking my hand and pulled me to my feet. Holding my hand, he led the way out of the coffee shop, our pastries unfinished and coffee unwanted. Still holding my hand as if afraid he would lose me, we went into the hotel next door. A city centre Premier Inn, functional for his needs, and at reception he showed his confirmation and got a room card. He had released my hand as he undertook the booking in particulars, and once completed he took my hand once more, his fingers interlaced with mine, still we had not spoken.

We went up one flight of stairs and then along the corridor about halfway. He presented the card to the door and there was a click. He opened the door and stood back letting me enter first. He followed me in, and the door shut with a loud click. He put the card in the little slot on the wall and the lights in the room came on.

I walked into the main part of the room and put my bags down on the side unit next to the TV and turned to look at him.

"Do we need all the lights?" I asked.

"Yes. I do not want to miss a single detail of you," he said walking over to me.

He bought both hands up and cradled my face, stooping forward he brushed his lips against mine for a moment, and then that brush became a full kiss, his lips sliding over mine, his hands lightly holding my face before slipping away to go around my back, pressing me to him.

I stood there, hands at my side, wondering what I should do, this was his action, he had initiated it, if I responded would I throw him off his stride? I didn't care, my hands went around his waist and then down, pushing his buttocks, pressing his groin to me, his dick hard and apparent.

He stepped away and used his hands to turn me around to face away from him. I felt him undo the clasp at the top of my dress and then my zipper moved down my back, my dress widening, the room air on my shoulders and the small of my back. He pushed my dress across my shoulders and let it fall down my arms to land in a puddle at my feet. I was stood in bra and knickers and shoes.

He knelt behind me, "lift," he said holding my right ankle.

I lifted my ankle, and he slipped my shoes off. He tapped my left ankle, I lifted, and he took that shoe off. He stood and folded my dress over the back of a chair and as I turned to face him he was undoing the buttons on his shirt. I put my hand over his to stop him.

I slowly finished undoing his shirt buttons, pulling the tails out from his trousers, undoing the cuffs and eased his shirt off his back and folded it over my dress on the chair. I knelt before him and undid his belt, and then the button and lowered his fly, his dick pushing his pants out of the fly gap, his trousers falling down his legs.

"Lift," I said, the first word I had spoken since the coffee shop, and I slipped his right shoe off, and the trouser off his right leg. I tapped his left ankle and slipped that shoe off and the remainder of his trousers, before moving forward and kissing his dick through his underwear, rewarded by his big sigh. I stood and folded his trousers over the rest of the clothing on the chair.

We were both stood in our underwear by the bed, neither speaking, each of us taking in the obscured details of the other. I put my hands behind my back and undid my bra. I pulled it forward and let it drop to the floor, my breasts now revealed in their glory, his eyes focussed on my chest as I pushed my knickers down and stepped out of them, naked before him.

His eyes roamed down my body and took in my beauty, my bare shaved glory, glistening with my arousal, my inner lips just peaking their promise through my fat lippy vulva. He pushed his underpants down, his dick springing as it was released. His balls swaying beneath, looking full and showing promise.

He stepped forward and put his hands behind my back and pulled me to him, his dick jutting into my lower stomach, his mouth pressing mine as my hands found his buttocks and slid between.

Somehow, we stumbled back and fell onto the bed, his dick thrusting between my thighs, almost but not quite in the right place. We scrabbled back and as he lay down, I bent over and kissed the end of his dick, rewarded with a gasp as I made contact.

I pulled his foreskin slowly back to reveal his wet purple glans, moistened with precum dribbling from the end. I rolled my tongue over the end tasting his metallic salty emission. I held his balls in my hand and gently rolled them, feeling them move around inside their sack, hearing his groans of pleasure as I took his dick deeper into my mouth, orally shagging him slowly, my other hand gently probing my clitoris, my own gasps muffled by his dick.

I slipped my hand up from my clitoris and wiped it with my spittle and slid it along his perineum, rubbing circles around his sphincter. Joe groaned loudly, his backside lifted off the mattress and he started humping my mouth. I pressed, applying constant pressure, I felt the pop and a knuckle was in, and then two, and I pushed harder, deeper until I had no more finger to insert.

I waggled my finger, feeling around inside, feeling the differing textures inside him, one bump that made him groan more than any other, probably an area to steer clear of, otherwise it would be game over. I pressed the opposite wall to the bump and slid my finger inside and out, simulating a shag as my mouth performed a shag, I think he was pretty much out of it in ecstasy, time to move on. I eased my finger from him and raised my mouth up letting his foreskin roll back.

I moved up and crouched over him and presented my fanny to his mouth, my hands resting on the bedroom wall as I gently humped his nose. I felt his tongue begin its ministrations, sliding between my labia, feeling them as they folded and curled round his tongue. I pressed down, squashing myself against his face, blocking his breath, what a way to go that would be, asphyxiated by fanny. That was not my desire, but I wanted it to cross his mind. I eased up and moved off him and lay on my back next to him. Still no words between us, but now it was up to him what happened next.

He sat up and then bent over me, his tongue between my labia, properly sliding up and down, lightly, a gossamer touch on my clit. My breath held and my lungs strained. I could feel his breath as it blew across my labia, a finger circling and exploring my entrance. I parted my legs a little more, easing his access, the better his access the better my pleasure, or so I believed.

I felt my entrance parting and my opening being passed and my fanny walls separating as his fingers pressed inside, pushing in, his palm pressing my valley as his fingers delved as deep as they could. Oh, my, yes, the feeling as he widened his fingers, stretching my fanny walls apart, that feeling was indescribable, pleasures, pressures and electrics simultaneously. I know I was gasping, gulping in air to my straining lungs, I cared not, what I was doing was indefensible, simple as.

A hand reached up and squeezed my right breast, a finger and thumb finding my nipple, tweaking it, pulling it, squeezing it, a pain that was tinged with delight and pleasure, I gasped again. My pressures were growing, I could feel my floodgates being strained as his fingers delved inside me, seeking my pleasure points, pushing my pressure points, my back began to rise, my buttocks were leaving the mattress of this hotel room bed. How many shags had the bed seen I wondered as I gasped loudly, and my barriers were breached.

I screamed into the air, my back arching, my fanny clamping his fingers as my orgasm erupted, pains and pleasures exploding through my body, my chest heaving as my lungs released their held in air and I was gulping in fresh air. I eased down onto the mattress as the tensions relaxed. Joe leant back, my fanny getting much needed respite, and he looked up at me, his mouth widening into a grin. Someone was pleased with themselves I thought.

He moved to one side of me, and grabbing my waist he flipped me over and then pulled me to my knees, my legs apart, my fanny facing backwards. He knelt between my legs and his dick was pressing into the crease of my bottom. I felt him move it and he lined up with my entrance and pressed swiftly forward, his dick plunging inside me and filling me, my fanny stretching to take his girth. I gasped an 'oof' as his dick bottomed out inside me, his balls rattling against my thighs.

He pulled back, his dick almost leaving me, stopping at my entrance, my fanny feeling empty, my walls beginning to close, and he thrust back in. Again I 'oofed', his body slapping against my buttocks, the crack of the slap echoing around the room, he pulled back, almost leaving, he held for a moment, and then thrust back in hard, 'oof, slap, my pressures rebuilding, my fanny quivering under the pleasurable assault from my best friends husband, or was it former best friend?

I was rocking on my knees as he shagged me hard, thrusting in, pulling back, my fanny welcoming the shag, the shag that should not be. I was gasping, I couldn't speak, I couldn't say anything, I couldn't deter him, I couldn't offer encouragement, all I could do was lay there on my knees as his hard dick shagged me.

He pulled back, held for a moment and then slammed his dick hard inside me, pressing against my buttocks, widening them exposing my rear end, holding himself inside me, and he grunted, gasped and gurgled all in one move and then laughed. I felt his ejaculations spurting inside me and my pressures released. Not as explosive as before, but pleasurable non the less.

He pulled back and I felt his dick slip from me, my fanny staying open, his sperms dripping from me onto the bed. He rolled and lay behind me.

"I guess we shouldn't have done that," he said.

"Unforgiveable," I answered.

"I won't tell if you won't."

"I won't."

"Are you free next week?"

"Yes."

"Unforgiveable."