Phoebe’s door

I’m drunk. I have an excuse. Honest mistake. Besides my wife could end it quickly too if Joey walks in instead of me. She would be complicit if she kept him in the room. I wouldn’t have guilt because she did it too.

I’m not thinking about another man fucking my wife. She was the one who teased me. I need some pussy. Rachel was willing. Maybe Phoebe will be.

I nod to Joey then head to his bedroom where his wife is. He grins at nods back. We’re too drunk. This is an awful idea. No way it will work.

I open the bedroom door to greet another man’s wife.

The room is dark. A king-sized bed fills the space. A small bump under the blanket is the only indication of another person in the room. She doesn’t react to a much smaller man entering her bedroom. Phoebe may be asleep.

I go to the opposite side of the bed. Joey was totally naked. I’m wearing my underwear. I take it off. I enter the bed totally nude. As soon as my bare ass touches the cool sheet, I have doubts. This is sexual ****. I’m getting into bed with a possibly sleeping woman. I could be convicted for this sort of thing. What kind of creep am I?

Before I can retreat out of the bed, Phoebe turns over. Her dark eyes are wide open.

Oh fuck.

She doesn’t scream out.

We lay in silence looking at each other.

The house is silent. There is no scream coming from my bedroom. No one is horrified at this situation.

Phoebe says, “Did you just sneak into my bed to look at me?”

“You don’t sound like Monica. Oh shit! Sorry. I’m so drunk. I went into the wrong room,” I act like I made a mistake and try to get out of bed. I pray she stops me, but I give her a chance to end this.

She grabs my wrist. “Don’t try to bullshit me. Nobody is confusing me with your wife. Now tell me: why did you crawl into bed naked with me.”

Yup. She’s now playing around. She wants me to be straightforward. She doesn’t like my play that this was a mistake. She wants me to admit that I want her.

I scooch back onto the bed, moving closer to her body. I say, “I was thinking we could have a little fun tonight.”

Her hand creeps beneath the blanket. Her fingers drum against my chest. “What kind of fun were you thinking about?”

My heart pounds. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m married. She’s married. No way this isn’t a drunken dream.

I say, “I was thinking you’d be a great addition to my list.”

Her fingers turn down and her nails scratch me down to my belly button. “You crawled into my bed with the intention of fucking me?”

“Yes,” I admit. As soon as I do, her hand moves from my belly button and latches instead around my hard cock. She hums in approval: whether at the size or the fact that I’m already hard, I don’t know.

Her small hand squeezes me and I groan, “Fuck.”

She closes the distance between us. Her lips brush against mine. “I hope you weren’t trying to fuck me without any foreplay. That wouldn’t be fun.”