Stealing My Friend's Husband- Part 1 - Sex Stories

Stealing My Friend's Husband- Part 1

My name's Lucy and I live in the northeast of England. I'm twenty-three, and have recently been at a crossroads in life, not sure what I wanted to do with my career and had recently come out of an unfulfilling relationship with a man I'd been with since I was twenty. Gavin was a decent enough boyfriend, but we wanted different things. At school, I was known as a bit of an ugly duckling. I was bookish and cared more about exams than going on dates with boys and caring about my appearance, so I was shocked when I started university to do my degree when men started to show me attention.

It's true it took me a long time to develop but it seemed that I woke up one day at eighteen and I finally had tits. I'd recently spent six weeks travelling around Europe before the start of my degree and I was tanned from spending time in Greece. I'd also exchanged glasses for contacts and had found that the gym and yoga had worked wonders for my focus in nailing my A levels coming out with three As. My determination to do well in school, which had often been at the price of being ridiculed by the prettier, more popular girls had finally paid off. I'd been accepted to my chosen university and was seeking to do a degree in law. Two years after starting the course I began to grow restless, and I was starting to realise that the law wasn't for me but I stuck with it and graduated with a first. Gavin was a good boyfriend but he was part of the problem. A solicitor himself, he wanted me to continue with my training and this resulted in a lot of fights.

I was now in the position where I was watching porn when he wasn't home to get myself off. My home life was as boring as my life at work, where I was surrounded by people who were like robots, only focused on making more money.

I realised I needed excitement. I wanted a career that was fun and I needed a boyfriend who made my pussy soaking wet. Someone who would pull my hair and fuck my pussy hard. Someone like the men who were in the videos I'd watch for hours, teasing my clit with my favourite vibrator while releasing my pent-up juices all over our pointless £300 designer bed sheets. I knew I had to get out. And I did.

My parents were furious over what they saw were my wasted opportunities. I moved back into my old family home ten miles up the road while I figured my life out and looked for jobs that would provide me with some kind of income. When my dad mentioned that the local pub needed a new barmaid I decided it would be a start. Though it wouldn't pay anywhere near the wages I was used to, I thought it would be a complete break from my humdrum existence for a while.

On a quiet Wednesday afternoon, I decided to go and see the landlord myself.

The pub was a typical country establishment. Quiet through the week with a few older men at their usual tables, but on the whole, I knew the work wouldn't be hard.

When I entered, there was a man with his back to me at the bar. He was broad-shouldered and I ...