Breakfast the next morning

I wake up with a pounding head, but a have a beautiful woman wrapped in my arms. I bury my nose in her blonde hair, and try to create a memory of Rachel’s scent. I don’t want to forget this moment. My naked body against my best friend’s wife’s naked body. Her calves tangled with mine. Her large soft chest falling in sync with my breathing. My fingers tracing her toned abdomen to sketch her in my mind.

I don’t know how long I hold her before she awakens and turns into me. Her tremendously soft breasts squish into my chest. Her face nuzzles between my collar bone and jaw. “Good morning Chandler.”

“Good morning Rachel. How did you sleep?”

“Amazing in your arms. You’re so warm, and I always get so cold at night so it was perfect. How are you feeling?”

“Besides my mucky mouth, my horrible breath, my aching head and nauseous stomach, I’m doing great,” I joke. “Oh and my abs are sore from all that thrusting.”

Rachel giggles, “It’s no where near as sore as my vagina. I’ve never been stretched like that.”

“You loved it,” I say.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing. Just a new feeling. You have very different equipment than my husband.”

The measuring contest comes back to me. The swapping of spouses. My wife prancing off with the biggest dick. Lucky I got the best second prize in the universe: a night with Rachel. The only thing I would change is the amount of **** I drank.

I’m afraid of sitting up.

Rachel gets up first. I admire her muscled back, her tight little ass, her perfect sexy long legs. She bends over my suitcase looking for something to wear. Oh god, there is that sweet fuzzed covered pussy. She pulled on a pair of my boxers and a ratty sleeveless t-shirts. It’s cut so low I can see the cup of her breast from the side.

She poses for me, “Is this sexy?”

“Very. I would’ve directed you to my wife’s luggage but I think my clothes fit you better,” I say. She’s so much thinner than my wife yet has bigger tits. It’s mind boggling.

“Wish me luck that the bathroom is open. I’m going to take a shower,” Rachel leaves out the door, and I already miss her. The night ended too soon. I don’t want to go back to normal life, I just want to continue fucking my best friend’s incredibly sexy wife.

I get out of bed. I rub from white crust off my dick—some dried leftover of my mine or Rachel’s cum. I’ll need to shower at some point. I’m sure I reek. I can’t confirmed though because my nose is still clogged with the smell of Rachel’s pussy. I throw on shorts and a shirt and walk out to the kitchen. I need some food.

I perk up at the sizzling in the kitchen and the smell of bacon. I clap my hand onto Ross’s shirtless back. “You are my savior. Bacon is just what I need.”

He laughs, “You know your boy knows how to take care of a hangover. I got you.”

I step outside and piss into the cool morning wind, then I grab some coffee and sit in a chair, watching him cook. I ask, “How was Phoebe?”

He smirks looking back over his shoulder, “That woman is wild, man. Crazy night for sure.”

Even though I want details, I don’t press for them. I wait for him to ask me about my night with his wife. I’m strategizing what to say so I don’t offend him. He never asks though.

By the time we’re eating bacon and toast, Rachel leaves the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. She heads to her own room to get clothes from her own luggage. She joins us at the kitchen table, wearing a tank top and a skirt. Her freshly cleaned face is free of makeup, and reveals a splash of freckles on her cheeks that give her a girlish look. She gives Ross peck, and says, “Good morning, babe. Thanks for breakfast.”

I’m expecting her to say something to me about what we did last night, but her only reference to the previous night was that it was “quite the experience.” She’s reverted to the prim and proper housewife. The Rachel I knew last night is gone. She's no longer the sex goddess swallowing my hard cock. She’s back to being my best friend’s wife.

And I’m disappointed. I really liked that side of Rachel.

I everyone is still asleep. We’re the only ones awake. Before I get up to take a shower, Rachel suggests to her husband, “We should invite Chandler and Monica to the gala next month. It’d be fun to have them there. I’ll have my parents take the kids, and they can crash all our place.”

“Sure,” Ross says, “I can get you tickets if you want to go just let me know.”

Rachel gives me a little look that reminds me of last night. What does this fox have planned?

“I’ll talk to my wife about it and see if we can make the trip.”