Tongue Deep in Betrayal with Kira Kosarin

[TheLW]

Tongue Deep in Betrayal
With Kira Kosarin
Written by TheLW
Codes: MF, Anal, Cheating, Rimjob
Disclaimer: This FICTIONAL story was written for entertainment purposes only.

I couldn’t believe the snaps were real. My phone lit up that humid Tuesday night, three notifications in a row that made my stomach twist with guilt and something darker, excitement. The first was from Kira Kosarin, my best friend Max Chester’s wife. Yeah, Max, my ride-or-die since we met at that music festival in London years ago, the guy who’d crashed on my couch during his early struggling-musician days, the one I’d toasted at his wedding to Kira just two summers ago. And now here she was, dark brunette hair fanned out on what I recognized as their bed, eyes heavy-lidded, tongue out in that teasing, filthy way she sometimes did in her old Instagram stories. The caption read: “This feels so wrong…”

Of course, I knew why. Two weeks earlier, Max had confessed it to me over beers at our usual spot downtown. He’d fucked up, cheated with some backup singer on his last tour stop. Texts, late-night calls, one reckless hotel night. He’d sworn it was a mistake, begged me not to tell Kira, and said he was going to fix it. I nodded, told him he was an idiot, but kept my mouth shut. Loyalty to my best friend. That’s what I told myself.

Then Kira started calling me more. “Just to talk,” she said. She’d found out anyway, women always do. She cried on the phone one night, voice breaking as she described the hotel receipts she’d discovered in his jacket. I listened, offered comfort, and maybe, because I’d been quietly wanting her since the first time Max introduced us, I planted the seed. “He started it, Kira. You don’t have to just take it. You deserve to feel wanted.”

She’d laughed it off then. But these snaps told a different story.

The second one loaded up, same pose, same tongue, but the caption hit harder: “I know he cheated on me but cheating on him with you just feels so wrong….” Her eyes were wider, almost challenging me to push her over the edge. My thumbs flew: “He betrayed you first. Come over tomorrow. Max is still in New York until Friday. No one has to know.”

The third snap came while I stared at the second. She’d rolled onto her stomach, ass arched just enough under the sheet, black fuzzy top riding up. “Okay I guess you're right…” Then, an hour later, the fourth: full mirror shot in their kitchen, tiny denim shorts hugging her curves, white off-shoulder top slipping down one shoulder, ponytail swinging. That ass, round, firm, the kind that made Max brag about how lucky he was. This time the caption read: “Here's your butt pic thank you for opening my eyes.”

I saved them all. Deleted the thread from my notifications, just in case.

She showed up at my condo the next afternoon wearing the exact outfit from that last snap, black flip-flops slapping against the floor as she stepped inside and shut the door. Kira looked nervous but determined, long brunette waves loose, coconut scent hitting me like a wave. No hello. She just leaned against the door, eyes locking on mine.

“He thinks I’m at a spa retreat with friends,” she said quietly. “I hate lying to him. But after what he did…” She trailed off, then reached back and hooked her thumbs into those shorts, sliding them down slowly. No panties. Just smooth, tanned skin and that flawless heart-shaped ass I’d only ever seen in photos Max had drunkenly shown me once. The denim hit the floor, she kicked it aside.

“Bedroom,” I said. She walked ahead, hips swaying hypnotically, knowing exactly what she was doing to me.

She crawled onto my bed on all fours, her ass presented like an offering. No sheet this time. I knelt behind her, hands sliding up her thighs until my palms cupped those full cheeks. Warm, soft yet toned from whatever Pilates routine she did. I spread them gently and just stared, the tight pink ring nestled between, already twitching slightly under my gaze.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this,” I admitted, voice low. “Watching you with him, pretending I didn’t want to be the one touching you like this.”

Kira glanced back, tongue flicking out just like in the snaps. “Then stop thinking and do it. Make me forget about him for a while.”

I leaned in and pressed my tongue flat against her asshole. Clean, faintly sweet from her morning shower, some expensive floral body wash. She gasped, a sharp inhale that melted into a moan as I started licking in slow, deliberate circles. I worshipped her. Broad strokes over the rim, feeling it soften and flutter, then pointed flicks right at the center until she pushed back against my face. My hands kneaded her cheeks, spreading them wider so I could bury myself deeper. I traced every wrinkle, dipped the tip of my tongue inside, tasting her heat as she whimpered.

“Fuck… that’s so wrong,” she breathed, but her hips rocked back for more. “Your best friend’s wife… and you’re eating my ass like this…” The words only made me hungrier. I groaned into her, vibrations making her tremble. Long, hungry laps, then quick teasing circles, then sucking gently on the pucker until it glistened with my spit. She moaned louder, filthier. “Right there… don’t stop licking my ass… God, Max never does this…”

Hearing his name should’ve stopped me. It didn’t. It spurred me on. I ate her relentlessly, minutes stretching into what felt like an hour of pure, devoted ass worship. Every time I pulled back to admire how open and shiny she was getting, she’d whine and grind back, chasing my mouth. Her thighs shook, as she fisted the sheets.

“Please,” she finally panted. “I need you inside me. Back there. Now.”

I sat up, cock throbbing, already dripping. I grabbed the lube from the nightstand, slicked myself thickly, then poured more straight onto her spit-wet hole. She stayed on all fours, looking back with those pleading eyes. I pressed the head against her pucker and eased in.

Her body resisted then yielded, a velvet vise that seemed to pull me deeper with each careful advance. Kira buried her face in the pillow, her voice muffled but unmistakable, “Easy... give me time...” I moved with patience, allowing each sensation to register fully, until finally I could press no further. For a moment, I remained perfectly still, overwhelmed by the intimate connection, feeling every subtle contraction around me. Then I began to move, measured, unhurried strokes that allowed her body to accommodate mine.

But Kira wasn’t patient. She pushed back hard. “More. Fuck my ass like you mean it, like he never could.” I gripped her hips and gave it to her. Hard, intense pounding that made her cheeks jiggle and ripple with every slam. Skin slapped skin, her moans turned raw. I watched my cock disappear between those perfect globes over and over, the lube making it slick and obscene.

I hooked my fingers into her hips and pistoned faster, feeling her shudder with every impact. The crack of it resounded through my loft, obscene and rhythmic and totally animal. Kira started to babble, every filthy encouragement just making me lose myself deeper, “Yes, like that, fuck, fuck, fuck me harder... use my ass, ahh, right there, make me cum with your cock in my butt, I want it so bad...”

I never thought I’d be this person, but watching her melt into it, lose herself in the roughness, I felt a marrow-deep rush. It wasn’t only the mechanics, the friction, the tightness, the forbidden territory, but the trust she laid bare. Her gasps got ragged, then keening, “Oh God. Oh God.” I could feel her clamp down, the walls of her ass spasming hard, and then she toppled forward, curling and twitching as she came without even being touched.

Eventually, I flipped her onto her back after a while, legs hooked over my shoulders so I could see her face, hair wild, cheeks flushed, tongue lolling out again. I drove in deep, angling to hit every sensitive spot inside her. Her hands clawed my arms. “Yes... fuck my ass... harder...” No front play, just pure anal intensity.

My release wasn’t far off. With one final, decisive push, I sank completely into her, surrendering to wave after wave of pleasure as she contracted around me. Withdrawing slowly,  I watched as her body gradually returned to its natural state, flushed and glistening from our encounter. Kira turned over languidly, maintaining her provocative pose, and gave me that same playful, defiant expression I’d seen in her messages.

“Still feels wrong,” she whispered hoarsely. “But fuck... it feels good too.”

Kira stayed all afternoon. We ate takeout in bed, laughed about stupid memories with Max, guilt flickering but drowned out by want. Then round two, me behind her again, tongue diving back into her ass, tasting the faint trace of myself mixed with her. She moaned into the pillow, pushing back greedily. When she was dripping and open again, I slid in and took her ass once more, this time with her riding reverse cowgirl. I watched those cheeks bounce and spread around my cock as she ground down, coming twice more just from the deep, relentless fucking. I filled her a second time, groaning her name.

He never suspected. Not when he got back from New York and hugged me like always. Not when Kira posted cute couple pics on Instagram the next week. But every time she sent a new snap, tongue out, ass teasingly arched, that same “this feels so wrong” look, I knew what came next. More secret ass worship in my bed. More intense, pounding anally while her husband, my best friend, thought everything was fine. And Kira? She never asked for anything else. Just my mouth on her ass, my cock deep inside it, and the thrill of revenge wrapped in forbidden pleasure.

The End