My friend's wife

I hadn't seen Denis for about six years. We served together in Afghanistan, more than once pulling each other out of trouble. We both returned alive and well. Then our paths diverged. I knew he got married, had a daughter, took off his uniform and went into business, while I went up North, never really finding my place in civilian life. We practically hadn't met in the last six years, but we called each other occasionally.

A week ago, before going on vacation, I called, but the number no longer existed. Upon arrival, I found Denis's new address and phone number through acquaintances. I called. He was very happy, even, I think, shed a tear into the receiver, and immediately invited me over. Judging

by the address, Denis had climbed quite high up the ladder of life. That area was home to only the well-off. I was convinced of this when I drove up around eight in the evening to a luxurious two-story cottage at the end of the street. A large, silver, latest-model Ford was parked near the house, its radiator pressed against the wrought-iron gates. At thirty-five, I was still unmarried, and didn't even know if I ever would be. Army service, combat experience, and a perpetual sense of being unsettled had left their mark on my character, and few could live under the same roof with me.

"That's how things are, brother," he sighed sorrowfully, shaking my outstretched hand.

Only now did I notice how much he had aged. A dense network of wrinkles had etched his once round, rosy face. Even his eyes, once brightly burning, now seemed extinguished, harboring a hidden anguish.

"What's wrong with you, what happened?" I uttered, swallowing the lump that rose in my throat

and sitting down in an armchair standing in the hall.

He briefly told me what had happened to him. His business was to blame for everything. He had done well selling computers, worked hard, and earned accordingly. A good car, a house, a solid bank account appeared, and everything was fine, but there were people he was in the way of. At first there were threats, which he ignored, warnings, an attempt to take his business away, and then his car was simply blown up. The driver and bodyguard were killed, and he himself became disabled.

"What about Katya, Olya?" I remembered his wife and daughter, whom I only knew by name.

"Katya left me," Denis grimaced. "Found some jerk and left. Took our little girl with her. I was in the hospital at the time."

"Wow!" I drew out. "And how do you manage alone now?"

"I'm not alone," Denis's face brightened. "I have Alyonka now."

He hadn't even finished the sentence when one of the doors opened and a tall young woman entered the hall. She was stunningly beautiful. I even stood up in surprise. Denis, noticing my confusion, smiled.

"This is my Alyonushka," he said, looking at her with love. "And this is Seryoga – my most reliable, truest friend," he introduced me.

The young woman gave a slight nod, extending her hand in greeting. Her slender, well-groomed fingers were cold but burned me like fire. Her large, dark eyes swept over me with an attentive, studying gaze and then lowered in embarrassment. A light blush colored her cheeks, her lips parted in a smile. I too froze, spellbound, looking at the beauty.

"Come in, Sergei," she invited me, swinging open a large double door.

"Go on, go on, Seryoga. Don't mind me, you'll get used to it."

I really did feel awkward. Next to me, Denis, sitting in his wheelchair, looked like a dwarf. We moved into another room, large, bright, furnished with light-colored soft furniture. Only then did it dawn on me that I had completely forgotten about the gifts. Alyonushka immediately placed the rose in a tall, slender vase, opened the box, and smelled the perfume. Judging by her reaction, she liked the scent; she even dabbed some on her neck and the neckline of her blouse. Denis accepted the bottle of cognac, smacking his lips contentedly. Only the white teddy bear remained sitting forlornly on the sofa.

Alyona, excusing herself, left, and Denis immediately reached for the bottle.

"Come on, Seryoga, let's have one for our meeting, while Alyonka prepares something. Pass the glasses," he asked, unscrewing the cap from the bottle.

We drank, and he immediately poured again.

"Relieves stress," he said, as if justifying himself, tossing back the second shot. "Only this helps."

I understood him perfectly and frankly felt sorry for him. To practically lose the use of your legs and be confined to a wheelchair for life at the peak of your strength – who would wish for that? And on top of that, having such a beautiful wife. She was just wheeling a table into the room, laden with snacks and bottles of alcohol. I couldn't help but admire her shapely figure as she deftly transferred everything to the coffee table. Sculpted arms, shoulders, a slender waist, high breasts, and legs like a model's, and her face... A real angel. Denis was lucky, although... — what am I thinking.

We drank again, now the three of us. Denis launched into reminiscences, jumping from one moment to another and not forgetting to top up his glass all the time, sometimes not even bothering to see if Alyona and I had drunk. She listened to him attentively, although I was more than sure she had heard it all from him before. Sometimes she would glance at me with a worried look, but immediately averted her eyes as soon as I looked at her. Obviously, she was sizing me up, as if checking how I reacted to her crippled husband. I, however, felt wonderful in their company. It had been a long time since I'd relaxed like that.

When the second bottle was also empty, I still attempted to leave their hospitable home, but Denis immediately protested.

"Where are you going to go at this hour? Don't even think about it."

"Really, Sergei, stay, there's room for everyone," Alyona added. "And you've had quite a bit to drink, it's dangerous to drive."

I hesitated. In principle, no one was expecting me today, and I liked their company.

"Stay," Alyona whispered, throwing me a pleading glance. "He's so lonely."

"And you? But he's not alone, is he?"

"I'm just a woman, and Denis misses male company so much," she smiled. "Sit, talk about your things, and I'll go upstairs and make the bed for now."

Denis and I were left alone. He reached for the bottle once again and sighed heavily.

"I feel sorry for her," he said, taking a shot. "Because, Seryoga, I can't do anything anymore."

"How so?" I was taken aback, although I could have guessed that things weren't right for him in the manhood department either.

"Just like that. She knew about it, but stayed anyway. She had a crush on me back in school. I was in tenth grade, she was in sixth. I don't remember anything like that, but she confessed recently, silly girl."

"There, there, don't take it so hard," I tried to cheer him up. "Maybe everything will still work out."

"Nothing will work out anymore," Denis sighed again. "And what good am I to her?" A treacherous tear ran down Denis's cheek. "And we wanted a son... Might as well hang myself," he sighed again, reaching for the bottle.

"Stop it, what are you thinking?" I was stunned by his confession. "Maybe you could adopt someone?"

"I thought about it, but it's not the same. Although the thought has crossed my mind sometimes," he added, twirling the stem of his glass. "And I thought about a donor..."

He poured the cognac into the glasses again and we drank, then another one. Under the influence of alcohol, Denis's eyes soon became completely glassy, his head drooped onto his chest.

About five minutes later she returned and led me to the second floor. Her round bottom swayed gently before my eyes, leading to sinful thoughts. How beautiful she was!

"This is your bedroom," she opened one of the doors, "and the bathroom and toilet are further down there."

I thanked her for her care and hospitality and, wishing her good night, wanted to go into the room, but she was blocking my way, standing in the doorway. I hesitated, raised my eyes, and met her gaze, full of anguish and despair. Obeying a sudden impulse, I reached for her and impulsively embraced her trembling body. Our lips merged in a passionate, burning kiss. There was so much fire, so much unquenched passion in her young, firm body that I was even frightened. She kissed frantically, now pressing her lips to my neck, chin, lips, now attacking them, thrusting her hot, impatient tongue into my mouth. Her breasts heaved violently, her hips, pressed tightly against my body, trembled nervously, her hands, thrown around my neck, stroked my hair incessantly – she was the embodiment of passion.

But at some point, the passion that had blinded both of us receded. We pulled away from each other, simultaneously thinking of the man lying downstairs. My friend, her husband, was sleeping there, and that cooled our ardor.

"Good night," Alyona barely uttered in a voice breaking with excitement, lowering her eyes. "I'm sorry."

I continued to stand, stunned by the sudden impulse, watching her figure disappear into the adjacent bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the large double bed, I pondered. What to do next? One thing was clear: staying under the same roof with Alyonushka was tantamount to suicide. Next time I probably wouldn't be able to restrain myself again, control my feelings, and thereby betray a friend who was very dear to me. In the end, I decided I wouldn't do anything today, and would leave in the morning. After taking a shower, I went to bed, but sleep was nowhere to be found. Before my eyes, Denis's face, tormented by pain and suffering, kept surfacing, but it was immediately obscured by the sweet face of his wife, scorched by passion. Her hot lips, her flexible, yielding body irresistibly drew me to her. Only towards morning did I fall into a troubled sleep.

I woke up when the sun was already quite high in the sky. Remembering my decision from yesterday, I quickly washed up, got dressed, and went downstairs with the firm intention of leaving as soon as possible. They were already waiting for me downstairs. Denis was already tipsy and immediately offered me a cocktail of his own making.

"Alyonka came up with the recipe, but I make it better. Right, darling?" he asked, glancing at his wife.

She only nodded silently, glancing at me briefly. The cocktail was indeed delicious, low-alcohol, and cold. I happily drained the whole glass.

"We're going for a drive now," Denis announced when we finished a light breakfast. "Will you help me? It's hard for Alyonushka alone."

I didn't dare refuse, helped him get settled in the car, and we drove around the city for a good two hours, remembering what was where before and what had changed over time. Alyona was driving, and I noted that she drove masterfully. Our city had indeed changed, and Denis was openly delighted when I expressed surprise at the changes. He kept taking sips from a flat metal flask, sometimes offering me a drink too. Soon he was drunk again, and when Alyona got out of the car to buy cigarettes, he suddenly turned to me, beckoning with his finger.

"I don't want any donor," he whispered to me, spraying saliva. "I don't want one!"

He fell silent, as if gathering his thoughts, then took another gulp from the flask, looked at me searchingly, and said:

"I need a son. Understand?"

I nodded

"Good that you understand," he shook his head. "Good..."

"A fresh towel...," Alyonushka's voice pulled me from the clutches of sleep.

She was standing nearby. I jumped up as if stung, splashing water onto the tiled floor. Only islands remained of the cap of fragrant foam on the surface. Some of it clung to the curly hair below my stomach. The young woman's gaze was directed precisely there. Under its influence, sensing alarm, my member also stirred. I tried to stand up, but Alyona's hand stopped me. Grabbing the shower hose with her other hand, she turned on the water, directing the stream onto my flesh, which was visibly growing heavier. Her narrow palm grasped my member, pulled back the foreskin, exposing the head. Under the water pressure, the pitiful remnants of foam quickly disappeared, leaving the surface of the hardening beauty.

The touch of her gentle, feminine fingers did its job. Clenched in her palm, it filled with strength, causing a greedy gleam in her eyes. A bright blush flared on her matte cheeks. Obeying the attraction, Alyona began to move her hand, exciting it even more. Her gaze grew misty, she swayed, almost falling, but at the same moment she sank to her knees and pressed her greedy mouth to my member. The head, darkened by the rush of blood, pressed against her throat, eliciting a drawn-out, muffled moan.

Our bodies, our lips intertwined into one. My member, aroused to the limit, pressed against her girlish stomach, and then she herself turned her back to me, placed one foot on the edge of the bathtub, leaned forward, thrusting out her buttocks. Without visible effort, my member entered the honey-dripping vagina. A muffled, cat-like sound escaped her chest, her pearly teeth bit her lip until it bled. Alyona gave herself to me completely, without reserve, moving her bottom in time with the thrusts, and each one was accompanied by a short cry.

Our feelings were so heightened that within a couple of minutes, a shattering orgasm literally knocked us into the water. Half of it splashed onto the floor, but we didn't even notice, freezing again in a kiss.

"Let's go," I extended my hand to her, climbing out of the bathtub and leading her to the bedroom.

She obeyed without a word, and we, leaving two chains of wet footprints on the floor, reached the wide double bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Alyonushka raised her brown eyes to me, even darker from the rush of desire. At that moment she was so beautiful that without thinking, I knelt down, burying my head between her thighs. The pink shell glistened moistly in the subdued light of the wall sconce. I caressed it with my tongue, my lips, pressing hot kisses into the hot flesh, while she, leaning back, moaned softly, teasing her hard nipples with her fingers. Her breathing became more and more frequent, waves of sensuality ran through her body, and within a few minutes she came again, tightly squeezing my head with her thighs.

"I know I'm doing wrong, but...," she tried to speak, but I covered her mouth with a hot kiss, and she relaxed again, calmed down, and even seemed to doze off, burying her nose in the pillow.

Gradually my member hardened again, gained new strength, and I moved closer to Alyonushka, who was lying on her side, thrusting out her completely uncovered rear. Finding the hot, wet perineum with my hand, I directed the head of my member there, and Alyonushka immediately came to life. Her fingers grasped my member, guiding it into her vagina. Then I, slipping my right hand under her, cupped her tender breasts in my palms, pulled her whole body towards me, pushing my member in to the hilt. And again, a drawn-out moan of satisfaction escaped her chest. This time I didn't rush, sliding smoothly in her perineum, only pulling my member out for a fraction of a second and plunging back into her depths.

Alyonka accepted the game and gently rocked on my member, enjoying the novelty of sensations. Teasing each other with shallow penetrations, we grew more and more inflamed and, in the end, couldn't withstand the sweet torture