Scarlet: 1000 Forbidden Touches

My Bestfriend’s wife 2

The following week was pure torture.

Every time my phone buzzed, my stomach flipped. At first, her texts were innocent enough—Miss our movie nights with a winking emoji, Jake’s still stuck in Chicago, house feels empty—but they escalated fast. By Tuesday, she was sending photos: her in black lace lingerie she’d clearly bought for Jake’s return, posed on their bed, one leg bent so the camera caught the curve of her ass and the shadow between her thighs. For when he gets home, the caption read. But the next one came ten minutes later—no caption, just a close-up of her fingers slipping under the lace, wet and glistening.

Then the voice notes started.

The first one hit me while I was in a meeting. I ducked into the bathroom and hit play at a low volume. Her breathy moan filled my ear: “Alex… f**k, I’m so wet thinking about you… about how you tasted my fingers last week… I need your c**k inside me…” She whimpered my name as the sound of her touching herself grew wetter, faster. I came in my hand in the stall, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood.

I told myself I’d block her number. I didn’t.

Thursday night, Jake texted the group chat: Flight delayed again. Probably another week. Sorry babe. Sara’s reply was instant: No worries. Alex is keeping me company with a heart emoji. My phone vibrated again—a private message from her. Come over tomorrow? I can’t wait any longer.

I didn’t answer. But I didn’t say no either.

Friday evening, I was home alone, trying to distract myself with work emails, when the doorbell rang. I opened it and froze.

Sara stood on my doorstep in a long black trench coat, belted tight. Red heels. Hair loose and wild. No makeup except dark red lipstick that made her mouth look obscene. She didn’t say hello. Just untied the belt, let the coat fall open, then shrugged it off completely.

Naked except for the heels.

Full, heavy breasts. Hard n*****s. Smooth stomach. The neat strip of hair between her thighs was already slick with arousal. She stepped out of the coat, kicked it aside, and looked me dead in the eye.

“I’m done pretending,” she said, voice low and steady. “f**k me like he never does.”

No more hesitation. No more guilt holding me back in that second.

I grabbed her wrist, yanked her inside, and slammed the door so hard the frame rattled. Pinned her against the wall with my body. Our mouths crashed together—rough, desperate, teeth and tongue and no gentleness at all. I bit her neck hard enough to leave a mark she’d have to cover with makeup. Sucked bruises across the tops of her t**s while she gasped and arched into me.

She dropped to her knees right there in the entryway. Hands fumbling with my belt, zipper, yanking my jeans and boxers down in one frantic pull. My c**k sprang free—thick, leaking, aching. She looked up at me with those big, needy eyes, lips parted, then took me deep.

Sloppy. Eager. Gagging as she forced more of me down her throat. Tears welled up, streaked her cheeks, but she didn’t stop—hollowed her cheeks, swirled her tongue, moaned around me like she was starving. I threaded my fingers through her hair, f****d her mouth with short, sharp thrusts until drool ran down her chin and her mascara started to run.

I pulled her up by the arms, spun her around, and bent her over the kitchen counter. She braced on her forearms, ass up, legs spread. I kicked her feet wider, lined up, and slammed into her p***y in one brutal thrust.

She cried out—half pain, half pleasure. So f*****g tight, so wet, gripping me like a fist. I grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanked her head back, and f****d her hard. Fast. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed off the cabinets. My other hand cracked down on her ass—once, twice, three times—turning the pale flesh bright red while she begged.

“Harder—f**k—harder, Alex—please—”

She came screaming my name, walls fluttering and squeezing so tight I nearly lost it right there. I pulled out at the last second, stroked myself twice, and came across her back—hot ropes painting her spine, dripping down the curve of her ass.

We weren’t done.

I carried her to the bedroom—her legs wrapped around my waist, mouth on my neck, and dropped her on the bed. This time slower. Missionary. I wanted to see her face. I slid back inside her—deep, steady rolls of my hips—watching her eyes flutter, lips part, cheeks flush. She wrapped her legs around me, heels digging into my ass, nails raking down my back.

“You feel so much better,” she whispered, voice wrecked. “So much thicker… Jake never fills me like this… never makes me come as you do…”

I flipped her onto her stomach. Spread her cheeks wide. Buried my face between them—tongue circling her tight little hole, licking slow and filthy until she was shaking, pushing back against my mouth, moaning into the pillow. Then I lined up again, thrust into her p***y from behind—deeper this time, slower, letting her feel every inch stretching her open.

She rode me next. Reverse cowgirl. Ass bouncing as she sank, took me to the hilt. Her fingers rubbed frantic circles over her c**t while I gripped her hips and thrust up hard. The sight of her—back arched, hair swinging, p***y gripping me—pushed me right to the edge.

“I’m close,” I growled.

“Come inside me,” she begged, voice breaking. “Fill me up, Alex—make me yours—please—”

I lost it. Slammed up into her one last time and came hard—deep pulses flooding her, spilling out around my c**k as she clenched and came again with a broken sob, body trembling on top of me.

We collapsed together. Sweat-soaked sheets. Heavy breathing. Her head on my chest, fingers tracing lazy circles over my skin.

Guilt hit like a freight train. Jake’s face flashed in my mind—my best friend, trusting me, clueless. But Sara just kissed my collarbone, soft and slow.

“This doesn’t have to end when he gets back,” she whispered. “We can be careful. Sneak around. I need this. I need you.”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

My phone lit up on the nightstand.

Jake.

Just got the update—landing tomorrow morning. Can’t wait to see you both. Beers soon?

I stared at the screen while Sara nuzzled into my neck, lips brushing my skin.

No turning back now.