My Friend The Bitch (part 2)

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I decided to keep the peace when Sam returned from L.A. After all said and done Sam came back to me, so there must be something still in his heart for me however diminished it became every time he came in Remy’s ass. And we still had Aidan between us, it wouldn’t be well to break the poor boy’s heart however broken my heart was by his father. And of course, we still had the upcoming nuptials.

I never remarked that I knew of his adultery with Remy. That recording of their hushed conversations was still in my PC with a copy in my personal cloud. I thought he would stew in guilt or remorse, but apparently Remy’s hold on him was strong and he just felt he could get away with it if he kept his mouth shut.

I tried to keep an open mind and open heart when it came to Sam. But it was so hard when you know his heart and his cock were not yours alone anymore. Maybe this was what my mother felt when my father came out and divorced her, like everything was a big fat lie.

Not to say that Sam did not rise to the occasion if needed be. His cock was his cock, it was still a marvel of this world, and he still could drive me to screaming abandon and orgasms so good you ended up with tears in your eyes, and that deep dull ache in your ass that marked a happy bottom. But everything felt perfunctory, dutiful as opposed to the ecstatic first days of our relationship, when everything was perfect and there was no Remy hovering over the horizon.

These days more often than not I caught him smiling at his phone, and although I never knew for sure he would have sudden calls at day and night. He introduced locks on his phone. He would bring his phone to the toilet, a habit I knew he used to abhor.

In all of this I was busy with the upcoming marriage. Sam played the attentive groom-to-be, choosing patterns, the china, the reception hall, the caterer. Although it would annoy me when he got one of his calls in the middle of a tasting, but I did not make too much of a fuss. Well, not too much.


D-day came, or should I say M-day. Guests arrived at speed, family and friends, nearest and dearest to our hearts. I greeted my mother and my brothers, one of whom I roped in to be my best man. I knew Sam would probably have Aidan be his, he was that type of sentimental sometimes.

The moment I dreaded could not arrive swiftly enough. Soon I was face to face with my father, who was on the wheelchair, pushed by his errant husband, my former best friend and my husband's - what? A fling? A side-piece? - Remy. Both looked hale and healthy, and presented me with their gifts. My father wheeled himself off to talk to my brothers, and I was left with Remy. He at least had the courtesy of looking awkward. "Your father's very happy for you. So am I."

"Really. I find that slightly hard to believe." Nobody would ever accuse me of being a soft gentle flower. After all I threw wine at his face once, I could certainly do it again.

"Of course, with our history-"

"And current predicament, I might add."

"-I hope if we could not be friends then we could at least be family."

I looked at him. I looked at him long and hard. It seemed like Sam, he was determined to be unperturbed that I knew of his affair. I decided my father's happiness was worth it. "Okay." I gave him my hand, he shook it like a gentleman, like friends on a happy day.

The ceremony came and went by uneventfully, which was more than I prayed for. Sam looked for once happy and enthusiastic as he gave me a deep kiss in front of everybody after he put on his ring on my finger. True to form Aidan was his best man, and provided chuckles after chuckles of mirth as he stepped on dresses and shoes and carried on the ring.

The reception was long and frankly tiring after we got the hurdles of saying I do's to each other. But Sam's father Mr. Alvin Cooke and my mother played the hosts, so I could take a few minutes off to myself in the wedding suite. Only to find myself witness to another betrayal.


I walked alone along the deserted hallway through to room 1505, our wedding suite. Somehow away from the hustle and bustle and the guests and the merry-making downstairs I had hoped to escape a gnawing feel of - of what? I could only describe it as a darkness, like a mass of slithering tentacles ready to swallow my heart. I should not have this feeling. I was just married, for God's sake! Sam, for all his good and his bad and his worst, married me, and that should have kept these fears at bay. I fingered the thick platinum band he gave me this morning, in view of all, when he took me as husband, his beloved, his partner in life.

Despite everything, despite Remy, I had believed. I believed in those words as they came out of his beautiful mouth, the mouth that I had desired and craved and satisfied. Even if there would be a thousand more like Remys I wouldn't care, because I would have him nestled in my arms at the end of the day. Or maybe I just had a romantic bone in me after all.

That illusion shattered as I entered the wedding suite. As it laid out there was a hallway before it opened into the room proper, and blood rang in my ears as I saw a pair of suits laying haphazardly on the floor, together with ties and shirts and socks, a pair of light blue boxers I recognized as Sam's favorite, and a white G-string. There were noises from further down the hallway - groans, moans and grunts. I shuddered and decided to take a look, despite knowing what it was, what it meant.

Sam was sitting beside the window, where the light made every plane of his body looked luminous and virile and beautiful. He was thoroughly naked, and his eager cock was a steely tower of strength - thick, rampant and so ready for sex. In fact his right hand was fast running up and down the saliva-dripped inches, making the foreskin retract back against the spongy head, from where a steady supply of precum was flowing. I looked up his torso, across his nipples that I had loved and kissed, his armor-like pecs that I had admired when I first saw him naked, and his ropy neck.

My vision's progress was impeded by the most beautiful pair of buttocks smothering my new husband's mouth. His mouth, the very one that had pronounced love and fealty to me this morning, was noisily slobbering over that admittedly succulent asshole. The ass jiggled gently, hovering over my husband's tongue, which was lapping at the hole like it was manna. In fact I could smell that the hole was drenched in champagne, the bottle of which laid on the floor beside the pair.

"Fuck Sam, your tongue's so deep inside me," Remy - of course, who'd else you expect wear a G-string to his stepson's wedding? - moaned. "How's that champagne taste?"

Sam's voice was muffled by Remy's fat ass. "Like a thousand bucks."

"And paid for by my stepson. Hahaha, eunngh yeah fuck I can feel your ring in my hole."

"Fuck yeah."

I was confused. What ring? Then I saw a tiny glint on the point of Sam's tongue. I realized then that Sam's tongue was carrying our wedding ring, the ring I just gave him, so that as Remy's ass descended down it would enter the hole, ever so gently like a ball on a jet stream of air.

And I came. I didn't even realize I was hard. It was one of those orgasms that totally sneaked in on you. I came so fucking hard that I blacked out. And it was bliss and it was good, even if the trigger was my wedding ring inside Remy's treacherous champagne-drenched asshole.


I held myself entirely responsible. I was the guilty one, yes, all of the blame fell on me. But fuck did I have a good time.

I never set out to find my husband's stepfather attractive or even beautiful. I'd heard stories from my husband, about how he wrecked happy homes, and I was determined from the start not to be like those men. It was easy but I swore not to even think of Remy in any familial way, and to treat him merely as a friend of the family as opposed to my Jeremy's father's young husband.

Then I came with Jeremy to his father's after he had a stroke. We were carrying our bags across the lawn when the most perfect apparition came out and held open the door. His voice was surprisingly low when he spoke as he welcomed me and my boyfriend to his and Jeremy's father's home. Jeremy went in to look into his father as I waited in the living room, under full scrutiny of this blond sylph-like creature.

"So, you're the boyfriend."

"Yes." I held out a hand. "Sam Cooke."

"You can call me Remy," he said in a throaty voice. A voice that recalled late nights of deep uncontrolled ecstasy. "I'm an old friend of Jeremy, and his father's husband."

"I know."

"I'm sure you do." He winked, and flashed the tip of his tongue on his ruby lips.
Despite myself, despite my oath I could feel my cock filling out. I was saved by Jeremy's call to introduce me to his father.

A few days later the house was empty after I returned from an errand. I was going to turn on the television after having a peek at Jeremy's father and making sure he was resting, then I got distracted by a murmur of sound coming from the swimming pool. Remy was sunning himself and singing softly. I watch as every plane of his body fell and rose, and the way he filled out his tiny yellow speedos made my cock chub out. I began rubbing at my erection through my pants, but decided not to go for an orgasm.

That night we had a furtive tête-à-tête, Remy and I, and we talked about how hard it was to watch a loved one on the sick bed, me referring to my late wife and him referring of course to his husband. We were through half a bottle of wine before Jeremy came out and dragged me back to bed. He was certain Remy was up to no good, and I had to calm him down with my cock. After a deep fuck and a swallow of semen Jeremy finally tired down to sleep. 

We returned to our city a few days later, but not without Remy's number in my phone. Life went on, and there was this small matter of my impending marriage to Jeremy. But a chance presented itself when I had to go to L.A. for business. I called Remy, I knew he was from L.A. and proposed a date for a meet-up and more should the situation called it. He had laughed down the line and murmured, "I'll see what I can do."

As I landed down in LAX  and checked in the Hyatt Regency I found myself smiling like a maniac all through the way, because I know soon I would be balls deep inside the most beautiful and the most forbidden ass. I looked down the hotel lobby and a huge grin flashed on my face as I saw Remy walking up to me, looking like a fucking snack in dark blue shirt - my favorite color - and tight pants that made his ass look like two jiggling balls. I kissed him there at the lobby - our first and decidedly not would be the last kiss - and made a beeline for our reserved room.

The first time was something for the books. Daylight was streaming through the curtains, but I felt refreshed and ready for anything, and the way the light fell across Remy's face and body was almost divine. I felt blessed as I drew down my boxers, blessed to have an adequate - no, let's face it I had a big cock - and would soon put a smile on this beautiful man's face. He gently grasped my cock, and I groaned and murmured "This goes inside of you," and he smiled beauteously. 

I opened his thighs and licked my way down his taint, opening up his hole - pink, hairless, innocent. I spent the next hour slobbering the hole, withdrawing its sweet taste, enjoying the way the rim would shudder at my stabbing tongue. When I finally fucked Remy it was like I was learning again how to fuck - so exquisitely soft and silky and warm, with the tight muscles maintaining a deep grip on my thick staff. Remy groaned as I murmured "I had wanted this ass ever since I first saw it." Well, it was the honest truth.

"I know you have a big cock, I saw how my stepson held onto you."

Despite the situation I laughed. "Oh yeah, stepfather?"

"Yeah, son."

I shook my head and shuddered as I released two pent-up weeks' worth of cum up his silky anus. "FUCCCKKKK!" I bellowed, as loud as my abdominals would allow me. "Fuck, that was the best sex of my life."

"Not even with Jeremy?"

I grinned wolfishly. "Bar none." I thrusted gently, certain Remy was not too sore from having a large cock up his ass. I was still hard, and I wanted more. Remy moaned and trilled his anal rim like an fleshly vise, vibrating around my cock. Despite having just cum, the urge for orgasm loomed again. No wonder Remy was known as a homewrecker. His sinful body was made for sex. "Fuck Remy, I'm gonna cum again."

"Come for me, breed your stepfather's ass."


I ended up coming five times that first time. My cock stayed inside Remy's ass for the whole day. There was no other place I'd rather be.