I have to admit, I had long had the hots for my wife's best friend, Jodi.
They met while they were in college—before my wife and I were married—and had become nearly inseparable by the time I came along. Jodi was always at our place: for dinner, for parties, for helping in the garden, for holidays. She kept a change of clothes at our house and a see-through nightgown (I noticed!) We referred to our guest room as "Jodi's room."
My wife was brought up in a strict Midwestern family. Her dad was an everyday drinker and a mean drunk. Most boys steered clear of Danielle and her family because the word was all around town that you needed to watch out for daddy dearest. At least, that's the way Danielle explained to me how she wound up with a lot of girlfriends. Close girlfriends, if you know what I mean. In fact, she didn't get laid by a guy until she had moved out of her dad's house. Instead, she did her early sexual exploration and discovery with other budding females. She found that she liked it. So much so that she had trouble finding men who were truly open enough to have a girlfriend or wife who was as fond of licking pussy as she was sucking cock. It's no surprise she had a close girlfriend like Jodi, even if I didn't fully know how close they were.
As for me, as long as I was getting what I needed and wanted from the relationship, what she put in her mouth was totally up to her.
Danielle was a petite brunette with the perfect shape for her size: nice round melon-size breasts, oval ass cheeks that filled out hip-hugging short-shorts perfectly, and long, flowing brunette hair she loved to toss around. Her self-confidence was sexy, even though she had told me some men considered her bossy. They were just pricks who couldn't handle a strong woman; I told her.
We were very compatible when it came to interests, especially when those interests had something to do with sex. Which they usually did.
A few years after college (and me doing a little experimenting in the big city), Danielle and I married, and we moved to the Kansas City area. Jodi remained in the college town where we'd met. But not for long. After a few months in KC, Dani and I bought our first home, a little two-bedroom ranch, and Jodi came to live with us "for a while" as she sorted out a second failed marriage. Danielle was thrilled to have her friend staying with us—the two often cuddled on the sofa watching movies—and I thoroughly enjoyed the additional eye candy. Jodi was rather fond of walking around the house in nothing more than an oversized shirt that showed off her luscious long legs and five-foot-nine-inch, one-hundred-thirty-five-pound frame. She was also a great houseguest: helping with chores, cooking occasionally, and making sure the fridge and liquor cabinet were stocked.
Jodi had long red hair—auburn more accurately—that touched the top of her butt. Oh, and that butt drove me crazy. In shorts, in jeans, or in a bikini bottom, hers was one of the finest asses I had seen. I'd even told my wife that the only way I could enjoy her body more was if she had Jodi's derriere: perfect globes of taunt flesh that rocked back and forth seductively as she moved around the room. Rounding out Jodi's exquisite form were medium-sized breasts complemented by half-dollar sized areola visible through silky blouses and nipples practically begging to be sucked.
Part of the routine Danielle and I had established since moving involved both of us working late on Friday nights. We'd both go out with co-workers, afterward, for drinks and meet each other at home in the wee hours for drunken, sloppy sex. It was our way of cutting loose. We loved experimenting and found a few drinks were just the lube we needed to let loose.
On this particular Friday, I pulled into the driveway and saw the flickering glow of the TV through the living room picture window. I imagined Danielle sitting in front of the tube waiting anxiously, maybe rubbing herself in lustful anticipation. My mind was reeling from the beers and the fantasy, and my dick was beginning to crowd my pants as I opened the door. I'd forgotten entirely about our guest.
"Oh, hi," Jodi said as I walked through the door. "Good day at the office?"
I was not expecting her and had to bring my brain back to reality. I'm glad I hadn't already undone my pants already, anticipating Danielle welcoming me with open arms and open legs. Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, there's no denying I enjoyed the sight. Jodi was wearing only one of my button-down pin-striped shirts, sleeves rolled up. Her long legs stretched out across the sofa and I thought I caught a glimpse of her pubic bush as she straightened up.
"Danielle called and said she was stuck at work and didn't know when she'd be home. She asked me to sit up until you got home," Jodi said before taking a draw from a nearly empty beer bottle. "Can I get you a beer?"
"Oh, sure. I understand," I stammered, not sure what to do with the semi-hard cock in my pants. Jodi turned me on, that's for sure, but I didn't want to make a wrong move and mess up our friendship. Jodi didn't leave me wondering too long when she returned from the kitchen with a cold tall boy.
"Now, Tom," Jodi said as she handed me a beer and brushed her hair back, raising an arm that hiked her shirt to clearly show her pussy hair. "Danielle told me that you usually come home a little horny after work and you two like to wind down with some TV and heavy petting."
My cock liked what I was hearing and began to grow stiffer, longer. Where is she going with this?
"So, well," Jodi said, sitting back on the sofa, crossing her long legs and taking a seductive drink from her long neck. "If there's something I can help you with ... I am all yours."
The lust centers in my brain exploded, and I stared at her delicious body. Her eyes pierced my own and I felt her staring at my very soul as well as my bulging Levi's. Was this really happening or were the after-work cocktails doing a number on my mental acuity?
