روايات وقصص ضمن My Wife S Best Friend

Tell me , I wouldn’t be doing that and you know , the best I know is that , it isn’t happening , I am not mad and I am never going to be , you are my best friend and you know that I love you so much even though I know that you act crazy most times , but if it comes to your happiness , you really don’t know the things that I can put aside that is how much you mean to me . You have been the best person to me , maybe more better than I am , you are the bigger person and you know it , Noah being your husband isn’t going to change a thing and I just want you to know it , and stop rubbing the fact that you are married to him on my face , I am not mad and I don’t think I am ever going to be nag . S

“But I’m terrified of losing you. You’re my best friend. What’s wrong with that?” I took a deep breath. With her, life had never felt complicated. Now everything just felt messed up. “Let’s go back to the time when we didn’t have any boundaries. I hate when you put boundaries between us.” I rested my forehead against hers. Her warmth felt like home. My only home. My best friend. The person who meant everything to me. “My wife... That’s a weird title.” “What is a weird title?” I flinched when Violet suddenly muttered, burying her face deeper in my arms.

“But the best lovers start as friends. If you don’t believe me, ask your father. He spilled wine on my favorite white blouse and then married me four months later.” A small smile pulled at the corner of my lips. “That sounds more like you cornered him.” “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she replied. We were quiet for a beat. “She’s not here anymore,” I said eventually. “Even if she ever felt something… I waited too long.” “You always think you have more time, mi amor. But sometimes, you have to do something stupid. Big. Bold. You don’t win a woman like Natalie with half-measures.”

Summary: My Wife Turns My Friends Into Her Personal Army Of Cocks, And I’m Forced To Watch It All Unfold ••• I have a confession. My friends are obsessed with my wife. Scratch that. They badly want to fúck my wife. We golf a couple of times a month, and every time we are together, the conversation circles back to Vivienne. I cannot lie. It turns me on as much as it makes me furious.

I know she was purposely doing this to annoy me, she kept laughing and hitting my shoulder as she listened to her best friend talk about their shenanigans as children. She was having fun, well, she should have all the fun she wants now, I'll have my fun later. “ My best friend is a good person and I hope that her husband really cherishes her," he said and I couldn't help but scoff. I'm sure he knows everything happening and knows that we don't fucking love each other, then what was he saying? And what good person was he talking about? Was it the same woman sitting beside me or someone else.

"And do you have to go to Greece to comfort her? Can't you comfort her in this fùcking house!" "Seriously?" "Doesn't she have other friends who can do that?" I scowl at him. "Gina or Miranda or Lucille or George or Liam or Ethan. You have a huge friend group. Why can't she go and get comfort from any of them? Why must it be you? Why must it be my fùcking husband?" "Because her best friend just died." He says. "And now I'm her best friend. She finds comfort in me. And I have to be there for her. Wouldn't you do the same for Lana?"

Elvis chuckles, his laughter warm and inviting, “Then I assume it’s our pleasure. Thank you, Lara,” he replies, slipping his arm across his wife Becky’s waist, a gesture that speaks volumes about their bond. I can’t help but admire the way they interact, their connection evident in the way they lean into each other, sharing a moment that feels intimate and genuine.

As if suddenly realizing something, I said, “Are you jealous? “It was just some friendly banter between good friends. It’s all just a joke. Don’t take it seriously. “The relationship between me and Cassy is exactly the same as the one between you and Yohan.” Sophie’s chest heaved violently. Her face was painted with a mix of shock and disbelief. “What do you mean ‘good friends’? She’s a woman!” She practically growled the words through clenched teeth. Her voice echoed through the private room. Looking at the face I had loved for seven years, I could not help but laugh at myself.

about long hours and different ambitions. I scrolled further, my finger pausing on a photo. There it was — a picture of her husband and Asher at some event years ago, the two men smiling, arms around each other’s shoulders. Both in suits, both young, both looking like they owned the world. The caption called them “old friends.” My stomach twisted. The connection was there, the history I had sensed but hadn’t wanted to face. It wasn’t just that she’d dated Asher. She’d been part of his circle. His _best friend’s wife_.

Everyone knew Amber Sherry was hopelessly in love with me. She would even risk her life for me. I got into a severe car accident to save her. My health never fully recovered. Because I had a rare blood type, she was terrified that something else might happen to me. She found someone with the same blood type and kept him on standby. He would donate blood to me whenever I needed it. I was also hopelessly in love with her. After she gave birth to Aria, I did not care what people thought. We gave her Amber’s last name—Aria Sherry. I did not want her to go through another pregnancy, so I got a vasectomy. Every socialite in our circle was jealous of what we had. On the day of Aria’s baby de