Best Friend Helps Husband Claim Her Ass

Ashley had always considered herself a good wife. At thirty-three, with five years of marriage under her belt, she still looked at Rob the same way she had on their wedding day—hungry, devoted, a little bit in awe of the quiet way he made her feel safe and desired at the same time. Their apartment in the city was modest but comfortable, filled with the soft clutter of two people who actually liked living together. Rob sold insurance, came home smelling faintly of coffee and cologne, and never once made her feel like she had to perform for him. That was part of why the approaching anniversary had started to itch under her skin. Five years felt like a milestone that demanded something more than another dinner reservation and a new pair of earrings.

She sat across from Candice at their usual downtown café, both of them still in work clothes, the late-afternoon light turning the windows gold. Candice was the kind of woman who made ordinary rooms feel brighter just by walking into them. Dark hair always a little tousled, sharp eyes that missed nothing, a mouth that smiled like it already knew the punchline. She worked as a relationship counselor and matchmaker, the sort of job that let her talk about sex the way other people talked about the weather. Ashley loved her for it and sometimes hated her for it in equal measure.

“Five years is a big deal,” Candice said, stirring her latte. “Especially these days. You need to give him something he’ll remember every time he looks at your ass in yoga pants.”

Ashley laughed, then glanced around the café like someone might overhear. “I’ve been thinking about that. He already has everything. He doesn’t care about gadgets. He cooks better than I do. Surprise parties make him twitchy.”

Candice leaned in, voice dropping into that low, knowing register that always made Ashley’s stomach flutter. “Good sex, then. Men never get tired of that. Especially the kind that feels like a gift only you can give.”

Ashley felt heat rise in her cheeks. “We’ve got a pretty good thing going. Oral is… frequent. He comes in my mouth at least twice a week. I like it.”

“I know you do. You’ve told me.” Candice’s smile turned wicked. “What about the one hole you haven’t given him yet?”

The question landed like a hand on the back of her neck. Ashley’s pulse jumped. She stared at the foam on her coffee and felt her pussy give a small, traitorous clench under the table.

“Anal,” she said, tasting the word. “We’ve never… I mean, a finger once in college. That was it. It felt weird. Tight. Kind of dirty in a way that stuck with me.”

Candice’s eyes lit up. “And you’ve thought about it since.”

It wasn’t a question. Ashley nodded, slow. “Sometimes when he’s fucking me from behind and his cock is sliding along the crack of my ass. I wonder what it would feel like if he pushed in. If I could take him. If he’d lose his mind.”

“He would,” Candice said simply. “Most men do. And a lot of women end up addicted once they get past the first burn. The prostate isn’t the only place that likes pressure, honey. Your ass has nerves that can make you come so hard you cry.”

Ashley’s mouth went dry. She pictured Rob’s cock—thick, veined, the head always a little darker when he was fully hard—pressing against her tiny hole. The image made her clit throb. She shifted in her chair, thighs pressing together.

“I don’t even know if he’d want it,” she murmured.

“Ask him. Or better—offer it. Make it the anniversary present. Your anal virginity on a silver platter. Trust me, he’ll propose all over again.”

That night Ashley stood in front of the bathroom mirror after her shower, towel dropped, studying the soft curves of her hips and the full shape of her ass. She wasn’t twenty anymore. A little extra flesh had settled on her thighs, but Rob still grabbed handfuls of it when he fucked her, still told her she was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. She turned, looked over her shoulder, and reached back to spread her cheeks. The pink-brown pucker of her asshole looked almost too small, too innocent for what she was considering. She touched it with one fingertip, just circling, and felt the muscle flutter. Heat flooded her face. She was already wet.

Rob was in bed reading when she climbed in beside him. She didn’t waste time. She kissed him deep, tasting toothpaste and the faint residual coffee on his tongue, then pulled back just enough to look him in the eye.

“I’ve been thinking about our anniversary,” she said. “I want to do something different. Something just for you.”

His hand slid down her side, settled on the curve of her hip. “I’m listening.”

She swallowed. “I want you to fuck my ass. For the first time. On the night.”

Rob’s eyes darkened so fast it almost scared her. His cock twitched against her thigh through the sheet. “You’re serious.”

“Dead serious. I’ve never done it. Not really. I want you to be the one who opens me up.”

He groaned, low and rough, and pulled her on top of him. His hands gripped her ass hard enough to leave marks. “Jesus, Ashley. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about that. Sliding into that tight little hole while you moan for me. I’ve never asked because I didn’t want to push.”

“You’re not pushing. I’m offering.” She ground against him, feeling him harden fully. “But I might need help getting ready. Candice… she knows things. She offered to coach us. To be there. To make sure I can take you without tearing.”

Rob’s breath hitched. “Candice. In our bedroom. Helping stretch your ass for my cock.”

“Yes.” Ashley’s voice was barely a whisper. “She said she might need to touch you. Guide you in. Maybe suck you if you’re not hard enough. But the fucking is yours. Only yours.”

He flipped her onto her back so fast the air left her lungs. His mouth crashed onto hers, tongue claiming, while one hand shoved between her legs. She was soaked. Two fingers slid into her cunt easily, then retreated to smear her own wetness over her asshole. He pressed just the tip of one finger against the tight ring and held it there, not pushing in yet.

“You’re already dripping at the idea,” he growled against her mouth. “My good little wife, offering up her virgin ass and bringing her best friend to help stretch it open. Fuck, Ashley.”

She came on his fingers that night with his thumb rubbing her clit and the blunt pressure of his fingertip against her hole, imagining Candice’s hands and Rob’s cock and the way it would burn and fill and ruin her.

The next afternoon Ashley locked herself in a bathroom stall at work and texted Candice the photos. One of her bare ass in the mirror, cheeks spread. One of her hole up close, the camera held between her legs while she crouched. Her face burned the entire time, but her pussy was throbbing by the time she hit send.

Candice replied almost immediately.
Perfect. Tiny and pretty. We’re going to open that up so nice for him. I’ll call Rob today. You just keep thinking about how full you’re going to feel.

That evening Rob came home with a look in his eyes that made Ashley’s knees weak. He didn’t say much at first. He just backed her against the kitchen counter, shoved her skirt up, and ate her pussy until she came twice, his tongue occasionally drifting lower to rim her asshole in slow, filthy circles. When he finally stood, his mouth shiny, he said, “Candice and I talked. She’s coming Saturday morning. She’s bringing toys. Lube that doesn’t quit. And she’s going to stay until you’ve come on my cock in your ass at least once. Maybe more.”

Ashley’s legs almost gave out.

The days leading up to the anniversary stretched like taffy. Ashley cleaned herself obsessively every night, following the detailed instructions Candice emailed—warm water, gentle soap, then a careful enema until the water ran clear. She practiced with one finger, then two, using the thick water-based lube Candice had recommended. The stretch burned, then melted into a deep, dirty pressure that made her clit ache. She came with two fingers buried in her ass more than once, face buried in a pillow so Rob wouldn’t hear how loud she got.

Saturday morning arrived bright and clear. Ashley showered for nearly forty minutes, scrubbing every inch of skin, paying special attention to the cleft of her ass until it felt soft and clean and ready. She dried off, moisturized, then put on the white lace lingerie Candice had specified—sheer bra that barely contained her full tits, matching thong that disappeared between her cheeks, and a short white negligee that floated around her thighs like a promise. Her hair was down, soft waves. Makeup subtle but pretty. She looked like a bride about to be thoroughly defiled.

Rob was already hard in his jeans when the doorbell rang at ten sharp. Candice stood on the threshold in a long coat, two shopping bags in hand, and a smile that was pure sin. Inside the coat she wore a red negligee almost identical to Ashley’s, the fabric clinging to her fuller breasts and the flare of her hips. Her dark hair was styled in loose waves. She looked like she’d walked out of every dirty fantasy Ashley had ever had about her best friend.

“Ready to give your husband the best anniversary present of his life?” Candice asked, setting the bags down.

Ashley’s voice came out husky. “Yes.”

They moved to the bedroom. Candice spread a thick towel over the middle of the bed, then unpacked her arsenal: several bottles of thick lube, a set of graduated silicone plugs in increasing sizes, a slender vibrating wand, latex gloves, and a small bottle of something labeled for intense anal play. Rob watched everything with dark, hungry eyes, already shirtless, the bulge in his jeans obscene.

Candice turned to Ashley. “On the bed. On your stomach first. Ass up. I want to see what we’re working with in person.”

Ashley climbed onto the mattress, heart slamming against her ribs. She settled on her knees, chest down, and reached back to pull the thong aside, presenting her clean, pink hole. The air felt cool against the sensitive skin. She heard Rob’s sharp inhale and Candice’s soft hum of approval.

“Look at that pretty little asshole,” Candice murmured. “So tight. So ready to be ruined.” She snapped on a glove, coated two fingers in lube, and gently circled Ashley’s rim. The touch was clinical at first, then deliberately sensual—slow circles, then the tip of one finger pressing inward until the muscle gave and swallowed her to the first knuckle.

Ashley gasped. The stretch was immediate, a bright burn that melted into heat. Candice worked the finger in and out, adding more lube, then a second finger, scissoring carefully. Rob moved closer, one hand stroking the hard line of his cock through his jeans.

“She’s so fucking tight,” Candice said over her shoulder. “We’re going to take our time. I want her dripping and open before you even think about putting that cock in her.”

She spent long minutes fingering Ashley’s ass, twisting, curling, stretching. Every so often she brushed the wand against Ashley’s clit, just enough to make her hips jerk. When three fingers finally slid in with only a dull ache, Candice withdrew and reached for the smallest plug.

“Breathe out,” she instructed. The tapered tip kissed Ashley’s hole, then pushed. The widest part stretched her with a sharp burn, then the plug settled inside, the base nestled between her cheeks. Ashley moaned into the sheets, feeling full and dirty and so turned on she could barely think.

Candice stripped out of her negligee, leaving only a red thong, and climbed onto the bed beside Ashley. She kissed her—slow, deep, tongues sliding—while one hand reached back to play with the plug, twisting it, pulling until the widest part almost popped free, then pushing it home again. Rob finally freed his cock. It was thick, the head already shiny with precum. Candice looked at it and smiled.

“Come here,” she told him. “Let me get you ready while I work on her.”

Rob stepped closer. Candice wrapped her free hand around his shaft and stroked slowly, then leaned in and took the head into her mouth. Ashley watched from the corner of her eye, heart racing, as her best friend sucked her husband’s cock with wet, filthy sounds while the plug in her own ass was fucked in and out. Jealousy flickered, then drowned under a wave of pure lust. This was for her. All of it.

Candice pulled off with a wet pop. “She’s ready for the next size.”

The second plug was noticeably thicker. Ashley’s hole resisted, then yielded with a deep, stretching burn that made her cry out. Candice soothed her with soft words and firm pressure on her lower back, working the toy until it seated fully. Then she turned Ashley onto her back, spread her legs wide, and lowered her mouth to Ashley’s cunt.

The dual sensation—thick plug stretching her ass while Candice’s tongue flicked her clit—ripped an orgasm out of Ashley almost immediately. She came hard, thighs shaking, cunt pulsing around nothing while her asshole clenched rhythmically on the silicone. Candice kept licking through it, then eased the plug free and replaced it with three gloved fingers, pumping steadily.

“Look at her,” Candice told Rob. “She’s taking it so well. Her little hole is starting to open for you.”

Rob’s cock was leaking steadily now. He stroked himself slowly, eyes locked on the place where Candice’s fingers disappeared into his wife’s ass.

Candice worked Ashley open for what felt like forever—fingers, the next plug, more fingers, the wand pressed against her clit until she came again with a broken sob. By the time the largest plug was seated, Ashley’s hole felt soft and pliant, the burn replaced by a deep, aching need to be filled by something hotter and thicker.

Candice finally removed the last plug and sat back on her heels, cheeks flushed, mouth shiny. “She’s ready. Rob, on the bed. On your back. Ashley, straddle him. We’re going to do this slow.”

Rob lay down, cock standing thick and dark against his stomach. Ashley climbed over him, knees on either side of his hips. Candice coated his shaft in a thick layer of lube, then more, until it glistened. She guided Ashley’s hips down until the blunt head of Rob’s cock pressed against her stretched, slick hole.

“Breathe out and push back,” Candice whispered against Ashley’s ear. “Let him in.”

Ashley bore down. The head breached her with a sharp, bright stretch that made her cry out. Rob’s hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise. Candice’s fingers stayed at the place where they were joined, gently spreading Ashley’s rim, feeding more of the thick shaft inside.

Inch by inch Ashley sank down. The burn was intense, almost too much, but underneath it was a pressure that lit up every nerve in her pelvis. When she finally sat fully on him, Rob’s cock buried to the root in her virgin ass, she trembled and panted and felt tears slip down her cheeks.

“That’s it,” Candice murmured, kissing the tears away. “You’re taking every inch of your husband’s cock in your tight little asshole. Such a good girl.”

Rob’s voice was strained. “Fuck. So tight. So fucking hot and tight around me.”

Candice reached between them and rubbed Ashley’s clit in firm circles. “Ride him. Slow. Feel every ridge.”

Ashley lifted and sank, experimental. The drag of his cock along her inner walls was overwhelming. Every movement sent sparks up her spine. She started to move more deliberately, rising until only the head remained inside, then dropping down to take him deep again. The burn faded into pure, filthy pleasure. Her cunt dripped onto his balls. Candice kept rubbing her clit and whispering filthy encouragement.