The Husband of My Best Friend
My name is Juliana, I'm married, 27 years old, white, 1.75 meters tall, fat legs, busted ass, light eyes and straight black hair and I live in Brasilia.
My story today is still the sequence of the beautiful passage through Piauí, in January of this year ((oh, what a beautiful state and what a fucking wonderful one!).
In June of this year, my husband invited some friends to a "little party" here at the apartment on a weekend, and among the guests were my confidential friend Carla and her husband George.
After a few hours in the living room, I invited Carla into the room so that we could have a better conversation (girl talk, you know).
Yes. I told Carla about my experience with Renato. In the end, I was very surprised by what she had told me: <unk>... more than twice, when George was about to joke, he mentioned his name, and that, at the time, gave me a big hard-on, friend. Would you have the courage to climb with him?...He will surely do your type, in bed...<unk>
I was stunned to hear it and had no words to answer the question. But in the heat of the moment, I said yes, as long as she agreed, because I didn't want to lose her as a friend. So she provoked, a few days later, a situation in her apartment.
All right: since my husband works on Saturdays, and is only at home at night, we arranged a drinking party at Carla's apartment, just the two couples, so that my husband would arrive only at night, and I, of course, would go in the morning, under the pretext of helping Carla.
Thirty-nine, and there I was: white miniskirt protruding, super small panties, and heart beating a thousand. Very welcomed by my friend Carla, I sat on the couch, when George waved, already holding glasses and drink. I noticed that he did not look at me as before. I imagined that Carla had already told him the plan or at least sketched it.
We began to drink, a music in the background moved our souls more, until we observed George's cowardly look <unk> he did not take his eyes off my legs, which I used to change their position, leaving my panties almost transparent on display. My bottle began to wet, because I also looked at him: a tall brown, a little strong, friendly and a volume that excited me.
After a few drinks, Carla said she was going to buy more ice... (liar, she was going to leave me alone with him...) When she left, she winked <unk> it was <unk> the green light<unk>.
I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, George, sitting on the sofa, was moving his roll. Oh, my God! What a dick he had: a little big cock, very thick at the base (ui, ui...), tuning a little close to the head, and a rosary... that head, it looked like a hat. It was a big roll.
I didn't say anything, I just stood in front of him, who didn't shrug:
I know you like it... come here, play a hot handjob, my hard-on... hold my roll...
A thousand times a thousand! I held his roll with pleasure, fisting slowly. I saw that roll peeling off in my hand. I took my hand, smelled it: what a stubborn smell, the smell of pica, thick pica and head. I continued the fist and did not hold myself: I began to suckle, to lick voraciously, moaning loudly, almost screaming with excitement. A very large bag, I went on licking it, licking it with desire, sucking it, while George moaned, saying: - oh, my ... tasty bitch, licking this bitch, sucking, sucking ...
When the door opened and Carla walked in, George held my head, not letting me take it from between his legs, and soon Carla had said, "That's it, hot boob, my friend, satisfies my knight's desire".
Carla sat down in front of us, leaned back, lifted up her thin little dress, started punching her little hairy cunt, moaning loudly as well. Then she ordered: - fuck her, George... fuck that white mare, fuck...
He laid me down on the couch, gave me a quick lick on the bowl, two taps, and after I rolled over, he punched me with his brown poodle. Wow! Almost finished me off. He held me tight, holding me by the waist, while Carla moaned, like crazy: - uhhhh... uhhhh...isssssoooo... hold on, lady, hold on to that fat poodle... I said I'd like it...
My pocket was so tight that George would say to his wife, "Carla, that's a tight pocket".
I started to shout: - ...fuck...fuck you son of a bitch...fuck that bitch on me, go...fuck me, fuck...oh, Carla, I'm full of spit...I want the milk of that bastard...spit milk...milk of his pussy...
George then pulled his dick out of the oven and started licking my ass, and his tongue was delicious, and I felt like I was forcing my ass in, so I said, "No, George, that's not it.
He didn't want to know. He forced my little ass until that little chaplet came in, to my reaction: - porrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
He... he... he... he... he... he... he... he... he... he... he... he... he... he...
It hurt very, very much. I begged, while Carla said to us, in a frenzied joy: - leave ... fuck that ass ... fuck, fuck fuck ... burst that white ass, my horse ... kick that horse, that stubborn horse, kickaaaaaaa ...
I looked at him, I was rolling my eyes, pulling myself out of the couch, I was on my knees, and he, in front of me, with his fist in his fist, in a quick punch, saying to me:
That little brunette threw such a hot, thick ball in my face that I could barely open my eyes, and then she rubbed her dick in my face and said, "Did you like your little whore's friend's husband?"
Carla came to me, told me that everything was fine and that it would remain a secret, just like our confessions. She didn't know what I was already plotting, because the next month, in July, Renato would come to Brasilia, and stay in my apartment. That story, however, will be for another time.
My story today is still the sequence of the beautiful passage through Piauí, in January of this year ((oh, what a beautiful state and what a fucking wonderful one!).
In June of this year, my husband invited some friends to a "little party" here at the apartment on a weekend, and among the guests were my confidential friend Carla and her husband George.
After a few hours in the living room, I invited Carla into the room so that we could have a better conversation (girl talk, you know).
Yes. I told Carla about my experience with Renato. In the end, I was very surprised by what she had told me: <unk>... more than twice, when George was about to joke, he mentioned his name, and that, at the time, gave me a big hard-on, friend. Would you have the courage to climb with him?...He will surely do your type, in bed...<unk>
I was stunned to hear it and had no words to answer the question. But in the heat of the moment, I said yes, as long as she agreed, because I didn't want to lose her as a friend. So she provoked, a few days later, a situation in her apartment.
All right: since my husband works on Saturdays, and is only at home at night, we arranged a drinking party at Carla's apartment, just the two couples, so that my husband would arrive only at night, and I, of course, would go in the morning, under the pretext of helping Carla.
Thirty-nine, and there I was: white miniskirt protruding, super small panties, and heart beating a thousand. Very welcomed by my friend Carla, I sat on the couch, when George waved, already holding glasses and drink. I noticed that he did not look at me as before. I imagined that Carla had already told him the plan or at least sketched it.
We began to drink, a music in the background moved our souls more, until we observed George's cowardly look <unk> he did not take his eyes off my legs, which I used to change their position, leaving my panties almost transparent on display. My bottle began to wet, because I also looked at him: a tall brown, a little strong, friendly and a volume that excited me.
After a few drinks, Carla said she was going to buy more ice... (liar, she was going to leave me alone with him...) When she left, she winked <unk> it was <unk> the green light<unk>.
I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, George, sitting on the sofa, was moving his roll. Oh, my God! What a dick he had: a little big cock, very thick at the base (ui, ui...), tuning a little close to the head, and a rosary... that head, it looked like a hat. It was a big roll.
I didn't say anything, I just stood in front of him, who didn't shrug:
I know you like it... come here, play a hot handjob, my hard-on... hold my roll...
A thousand times a thousand! I held his roll with pleasure, fisting slowly. I saw that roll peeling off in my hand. I took my hand, smelled it: what a stubborn smell, the smell of pica, thick pica and head. I continued the fist and did not hold myself: I began to suckle, to lick voraciously, moaning loudly, almost screaming with excitement. A very large bag, I went on licking it, licking it with desire, sucking it, while George moaned, saying: - oh, my ... tasty bitch, licking this bitch, sucking, sucking ...
When the door opened and Carla walked in, George held my head, not letting me take it from between his legs, and soon Carla had said, "That's it, hot boob, my friend, satisfies my knight's desire".
Carla sat down in front of us, leaned back, lifted up her thin little dress, started punching her little hairy cunt, moaning loudly as well. Then she ordered: - fuck her, George... fuck that white mare, fuck...
He laid me down on the couch, gave me a quick lick on the bowl, two taps, and after I rolled over, he punched me with his brown poodle. Wow! Almost finished me off. He held me tight, holding me by the waist, while Carla moaned, like crazy: - uhhhh... uhhhh...isssssoooo... hold on, lady, hold on to that fat poodle... I said I'd like it...
My pocket was so tight that George would say to his wife, "Carla, that's a tight pocket".
I started to shout: - ...fuck...fuck you son of a bitch...fuck that bitch on me, go...fuck me, fuck...oh, Carla, I'm full of spit...I want the milk of that bastard...spit milk...milk of his pussy...
George then pulled his dick out of the oven and started licking my ass, and his tongue was delicious, and I felt like I was forcing my ass in, so I said, "No, George, that's not it.
He didn't want to know. He forced my little ass until that little chaplet came in, to my reaction: - porrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
He... he... he... he... he... he... he... he... he... he... he... he... he... he...
It hurt very, very much. I begged, while Carla said to us, in a frenzied joy: - leave ... fuck that ass ... fuck, fuck fuck ... burst that white ass, my horse ... kick that horse, that stubborn horse, kickaaaaaaa ...
I looked at him, I was rolling my eyes, pulling myself out of the couch, I was on my knees, and he, in front of me, with his fist in his fist, in a quick punch, saying to me:
That little brunette threw such a hot, thick ball in my face that I could barely open my eyes, and then she rubbed her dick in my face and said, "Did you like your little whore's friend's husband?"
Carla came to me, told me that everything was fine and that it would remain a secret, just like our confessions. She didn't know what I was already plotting, because the next month, in July, Renato would come to Brasilia, and stay in my apartment. That story, however, will be for another time.
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