My Husband’s Best Friend Took Me in the Garden Shed

“Hand me that wrench, will you?” Mark’s voice cut through the dim light of the garden shed, his tone sharper than usual. I wiped sweat from my brow and passed him the tool, my sundress already clinging to my skin in the humid afternoon air. The barbecue was in full swing outside, laughter and the sizzle of meat drifting through the thin wooden walls. At twenty-eight I should have known better than to follow him in here alone, but the fight with my husband still burned in my chest.

David, thirty-two, had snapped at me again in front of everyone about how I never helped enough with the hosting. Mark, his best friend since college and now thirty-five, had stepped in smoothly, offering to fix the loose hinge on the shed door that had been bothering me for weeks. His wife was busy chatting with the neighbors by the pool, wine glass in hand. No one noticed when we slipped away together.

The shed smelled of cut grass and motor oil, a narrow space crammed with tools and old patio furniture. Mark knelt by the door, muscles flexing under his tight t-shirt as he worked. I leaned against the workbench, arms crossed, still fuming. “Thanks for stepping up back there,” I muttered. He glanced up, those dark eyes locking on mine with an intensity that made my stomach flip.

“David can be a real ass sometimes,” he said quietly, voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry outside. “You deserve better than getting yelled at over stupid shit like this.” His words hit harder than they should have. I swallowed, suddenly aware of how close we were, how the air between us felt thick. Mark stood up slowly, wiping his hands on a rag, towering over me at six foot two.

Before I could think of a reply he stepped closer, backing me against the rough wooden wall. His hand brushed my hip, deliberate, not accidental. “You’ve been putting up with his crap for years, Lisa. Tell me I’m wrong.” I wasn’t wrong. David and I had been drifting for months, our marriage reduced to polite routines and occasional fights. Mark’s breath was warm on my neck now, his body heat radiating through the thin fabric of my dress.

I should have pushed him away. Instead I grabbed his shirt and pulled him in, our mouths crashing together in a hungry kiss that tasted like beer and forbidden need. His hands roamed instantly, sliding up my thighs, bunching the dress around my waist. No panties today, a small rebellious choice after David’s morning criticism. Mark groaned when his fingers found me already slick, circling my clit with practiced ease that made my knees buckle.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he whispered against my lips, two thick fingers sliding inside me without warning. I bit back a moan, gripping his shoulders as he pumped them slowly, curling just right to hit that spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids. Outside, David’s voice carried on the breeze, calling out to guests about flipping burgers. The thrill of it, him being so close while his best friend fingered me in our own backyard, sent a fresh gush of wetness over Mark’s hand.

I dropped to my knees on the dusty floor, not caring about the dirt on my skin. His shorts were tented obscenely. I yanked them down, freeing his thick cock that sprang up heavy and veined. At thirty-five Mark was built like the athlete he’d been in university, cock curving upward with a fat head already leaking precum. I took him into my mouth greedily, sucking hard while my tongue swirled around the underside. He tangled his fingers in my hair, guiding me deeper until I gagged softly, tears pricking my eyes from the stretch.

“That’s it, just like that,” he growled, hips rocking gently. Saliva dripped down my chin as I bobbed faster, one hand cupping his heavy balls. The sounds outside grew louder, someone turning up the music, but all I could focus on was the way his cock throbbed on my tongue. He pulled me up suddenly, spinning me around to face the workbench. I braced my hands on the scarred wood, ass pushed out as he kicked my feet wider.

Mark didn’t tease. He lined up and thrust in hard, burying every inch in one smooth stroke. I gasped, the fullness overwhelming, my walls clenching around his girth. He felt bigger than David, stretching me perfectly as he started pounding into me from behind. Each slap of skin echoed in the small shed. His hand reached around to rub my clit in tight circles while the other pinched my nipple through the dress, sending jolts straight to my core.

“Harder,” I begged in a hoarse whisper, pushing back to meet his thrusts. He obliged, gripping my hips bruisingly as he fucked me with deep, relentless strokes. My breasts bounced freely now, the thin straps of my dress slipping down my shoulders. Sweat trickled between them. The danger of discovery only heightened everything. I imagined David walking in any second, seeing his wife bent over like a slut for his best friend.

Mark leaned over me, teeth grazing my ear. “Come for me, Lisa. Let me feel that pussy squeeze my cock.” His words pushed me over the edge. I came hard, biting my lip to stay quiet as waves of pleasure crashed through me, my inner muscles fluttering wildly around him. He didn’t stop, fucking me through it until my legs shook.

He pulled out and turned me around, lifting me onto the workbench in one smooth motion. My dress was bunched uselessly at my waist now. I wrapped my legs around him as he slid back inside, this time face to face so I could see the raw lust in his eyes. We kissed messily, tongues battling while he drove into me with short, powerful thrusts that hit deep. His thumb found my clit again, rubbing in time with his hips until another orgasm built fast.

“I’m close,” he panted, forehead pressed to mine. “Where do you want it?” “Inside,” I gasped, nails digging into his back. “Fill me up.” That was all it took. Mark groaned low, burying himself to the hilt as he came, hot spurts flooding my pussy. The sensation triggered my own climax, my body locking around him as I shuddered silently, waves of ecstasy making my vision blur.

We stayed like that for long moments, breathing hard, his cock still twitching inside me. Finally he pulled out, a thick trail of his cum leaking down my thigh. I scooped some up with my fingers and licked it off, holding his gaze the whole time. He watched me with dark hunger, already half-hard again.

Voices outside called for us. I smoothed my dress down quickly, wiping the evidence from my legs with an old towel. Mark adjusted himself, picking up the wrench like nothing had happened. We stepped out separately, a minute apart, blending back into the barbecue as if we’d just been fixing a door.

David handed me a plate with a forced smile, oblivious. I sat down across from Mark, feeling his release still dripping into my panties as I crossed my legs. Our eyes met over the table, a silent promise of more to come. Later that night, after everyone left and David passed out on the couch, I slipped out to the shed again. Mark was already waiting, ready to bend me over the same workbench and take me even rougher this time.

The double life feels dangerously good. I never knew how much I craved being wanted like that, used hard and left dripping while pretending everything is normal. Every time David kisses me now I taste Mark on my tongue. And I can’t wait for the next backyard gathering to sneak away again.