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Bill was the kind of friend that everyone we hung out with loved. He bought drinks so everyone would have a good time. When you needed a ride, Bill was the guy you called. If you moved, he was the first one to show up and the last to leave.
In pretty much every respect, Bill was the kind of friend you wanted to have. There was just one problem with Bill. He pulled pussy.
Now you might not think that's really a problem. Who doesn't want the kind of friend that women are naturally attracted to? Several of us had been recipients from time to time of Bill's natural ability to pull women. When girls were out, they had friends. When Bill took one home, often their friends would come, too.
Bill's seemingly magical ability to get laid, however, was a problem for me early on. Because every girlfriend I had, Bill fucked. It wasn't that he set out to do it, or that he was malicious. It just... happened.
It had happened often enough that it sort of became this expectation between us, like an unspoken agreement. If I was lucky enough to land a girl, Bill would inevitably fuck her.
At first, I was angry. I couldn't believe it. A man who could basically get laid at will, had stooped so low as to fuck a girl I had worked to get.
The relationships dissolved quickly after that. Of course, they felt guilty, I felt cheated on, and it never worked out. After a time, however, I began to think of it like a trust test. Any woman who would fuck my friend, obviously couldn't be trusted.
But after college, we parted ways. I didn't see Bill again for years. I got lucky, landed a hot wife, and life went on.
The night of our tenth class reunion, however, I made a mistake. I let my wife come with me. Of course, I wanted to show her off. I'd married out of my league, bagged a hot Latina who was a bombshell in bed.
We were due to stay the entire week, a much needed getaway that would also let me show off my home town to my wife. The first night in town, we ran into Bill at a restaurant. Of course, he joined us for dinner and we caught up.
All through dinner, though, my apprehension grew. I began to imagine Bill fucking my wife. I envisioned her writhing under him. I pictured her on her knees, in the sexy lingerie I knew she'd packed, sucking Bill's cock.
But Bill left after dinner. Nothing happened. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling.
We returned to our room, where my wife got down to business, pleasing my cock with her mouth. I was never what you'd call a champion in the bedroom. That night, I wasn't even a runner up. As I watched my wife slip her gorgeous, dick-sucking lips around my cock, I thought about Bill. It was over in seconds.
I apologized, said I was tired, and we went to bed. Some nights were like that. She understood.
The next night, however, we went to the reunion. My wife looked hot! Everyone was slapping my back and telling me how lucky I was.
However, I also got the question from many of my old friends, the one that had me burning with humiliation all night.
"Did Bill fuck her yet?"
Each time, I'd answer it with a, "No."
They'd go about their business, but all night my dick was hard and I burned with shame. Even after all these years, everyone remembered that our old friend had cucked me, over and over. Then came the news. My wife sauntered up, beaming and bubbly.
"That old friend of yours invited us over after the party. Bill?"
It was like I was eighteen again. I knew better than to accept the invitation. It could only mean one thing.
"I'm... a little tired," I said. "How about another night?"
My wife ran back to Bill. I watched him nod, and a moment later he was at my side.
"What's this about you being tired, man?" he asked. "Seriously? Hell, the night's just begun!"
"I'm... it was a long drive. I'm just not feeling it."
Bill sighed, squeezed my shoulder, and leaned in to whisper in my ear, "Bro, why are you trying to cock block me?"
I looked over at my wife, who was laughing as she talked to my old friends.
"I'm not," I said. "I just..."
I just what? I thought. I don't want you to fuck my wife? I had a right to say that. This wasn't some bar hookup we were flipping a coin over. It was my wife, the love of my life. Yet, even after the years, I had this expectation. It was ingrained in me. It always happened, after all.
"You'll feel better once it's over," Bill said. "I promise. I know you have like, a thing for this one, so I'll tell you what. Just bring her by after the party and I'll let you watch, okay?"
Had I been an actual man, I would have punched him for the audacity. He'd let me watch? Like he was doing me a favor by fucking my wife and giving me a front row seat? I had a "thing" for this one? We were married!
But such was the way I had been cucked through the years, that I didn't punch him. I didn't argue. I didn't protest.
"Yeah," I said. "Okay."
He squeezed my shoulder and happily went to tell my wife that I'd agreed to "drop by" after the party. She was having a great time, laughing and chattering on the drive over to Bill's place. I wasn't. I knew I was driving her over to give her pussy to Bill, even though she didn't.
Bill had drinks for us waiting, and we gathered in his living room. It was only natural for him to sit with my wife, while I sat across from them. Just like always, with Bill in the room, I might as well have been a decorative plant.
The two of them seemed to have forgotten I was there. Soon, Bill had his hand on my wife's leg. From there, it took him mere minutes to start whispering in her ear. Whatever he said made her laugh. Whatever magic words he'd used on her, she didn't even glance my direction when Bill pulled out his cock.
I groaned, paralyzed, as my wife made herself comfortable and started sucking his cock. Bill sighed, looking over at me, and he gave me a thumbs-up. It was as if to say, "Mission accomplished, good buddy."
I sat there like a stump, watching my wife pleasure Bill's cock as he touched her. Life had come full cycle. No matter what I did, I was destined to be a cuck to Bill.
Eventually, he took my wife upstairs. I followed, feeling like some kind of pervert. When he took her into the bedroom, I watched for a while. I had to. The longer it went on, though, the more I felt like an intruder. I went to Bill's couch, where I jerked off, listening to my old buddy take my wife.
Bill woke me the next morning, sitting on the edge of the couch with his dick out.
"Man," he said. "That is one kinky slut. I can't believe you passed up on her ass, man. It's fucking heavenly."
"Ass?" I squeaked.
"Yeah. Good stuff. Hey, do you mind running back to your place and picking up her bags? She said she brought some nice lingerie, and I want to check it out. Thanks, man. I'll be upstairs."
Of course, I did it. I left the house, leaving my wife with Bill, and went back to our room. I brought back her bag. The sexy outfits she'd packed to give me a good time were now for Bill's benefit.
He kept me company while she showered and changed, asking, "Hey. How come you didn't stay and watch the whole time? You missed out on the best parts."
What could I say. I just said, "Sorry."
"Don't be, man. I'm telling you, I've had pussy from all over the country. Your wife's is one of the best. Really. The way it just grips you like it's trying to suck you in. Man, that's the kind of pussy that's meant to be shared. You're a real class act, bro."
He slapped me on the back as he stood up, returning to the bedroom. By the time I worked up the courage to follow, he had her on her knees, wearing hot white lingerie. There was a slutty collar around her neck with the words, "Yes Sir" in silver letters.
When I peeked through the door, Bill asked her, "What's your favorite thing?"
"Sucking dick," my wife replied with her sexy lips kissing his cock.
As I stood there and watched him use my wife's mouth, I knew it was only the beginning. We had four more days in town. Bill had claimed my wife's every hole in one night. It made me wonder if I might not be leaving town alone...
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