The Local Stud Has My Best Friend And All I Can Do Is Watch[M34/F31][Voyeurism] [Vanilla][Cheating]
The social club was packed, the air thick with the smell of cheap lager, chip fat, and too much aftershave. Coloured lights swept across the small stage where an Elvis tribute act—complete with white jumpsuit and oversized sunglasses—was belting out Suspicious Minds. The bass thumped through the floorboards, vibrating up my legs as I nursed a pint at our corner table.
Louise looked stunning, as always. She wore snug grey corduroy jeans that hugged her hips and thighs, and a sleeveless black top that clung to her curves, the soft fabric shifting against her skin with every movement. Her dark hair was pinned up elegantly, though a single strand had escaped, brushing her cheek. I kept stealing glances, the same ache in my chest I’d felt for months.
Mick, sprawled in the chair beside her like he owned the place, was the opposite of classy. Leather jacket, stubble that looked three days permanent, and a grin that had probably got him out of more trouble than it had earned him. His arm rested along the back of her chair, fingers occasionally brushing her shoulder.
“Bloody hell, he’s good, isn’t he?” Mick said, nodding at the stage.
Louise laughed, warm and genuine. “I think your dad might’ve had a point. Though I’ve always had a soft spot for the music.”
I tried to join in, but my words felt flat. Every time Mick leaned in close or let his fingers drift across her bare shoulder, something twisted tighter in my gut.
When Mick got up to use the toilet, I seized my chance. “Louise… Mick’s not what you think. He’s slept with half the women in this town. He doesn’t do relationships.”
She gave me that pitying look again. “We’re just having a laugh. He makes me feel alive. You’re sweet to worry, but I’m a big girl.”
Mick returned before I could push it further. The night rolled on, and Elvis slid into the slower, heavier Can’t Help Falling in Love. The lights dimmed to a soft blue.
Mick stood and offered his hand with that cocky, crooked grin. “Dance with me, Lou. Come on.”
She hesitated for half a second, then took it. I watched them move onto the small dance floor. He pulled her in close—too close—his hand settling low on her back, fingers splayed possessively over the grey corduroy. As they swayed, the front of his trousers was stretched tight. Even in the dim blue light I could see the clear, heavy outline of his full erection straining against the fabric, thick and rigid, pressing hard into her lower belly. The bastard was rock hard, and he made no attempt to hide it.
He rolled his hips deliberately, grinding that thick bulge against her. Louise’s cheeks flushed deep pink. Her breathing wasn’t steady. She looked torn, a flicker of guilt crossing her face whenever her gaze drifted toward me, but she didn’t pull away. Instead her body moved with his, letting him press that swollen cock against her again and again through the thin barrier of her jeans.
After a couple of minutes they drifted off the dance floor together, disappearing into the shadowed corner near the side exit. I leaned forward, heart hammering. From my angle I could just see them.
Mick pinned her against the wall with easy confidence, one hand braced beside her head, the other sliding down to grip her arse through the corduroy. He kissed her hard, deep, no hesitation. Louise’s hands came up to his chest at first, as if she might push him back, but they only clutched his leather jacket instead. He rocked his hips forward, grinding that same thick erection against her, slow and filthy, letting her feel every inch. Her head tilted back against the wall and she kissed him back, lips parting, her body arching into him despite herself.
He broke the kiss just enough to whisper something low in her ear. I couldn’t hear the words, but I saw the effect: her eyes widened, her thighs pressed together, and a fresh flush spread across her chest. Mick’s hand squeezed her arse harder, pulling her tighter onto the bulge of his cock as he murmured again. She bit her lip, clearly fighting some last scrap of resistance, but her fingers stayed twisted in his jacket.
They finally returned to the table. Her lipstick was badly smudged, her hair slightly messier, and her eyes were glassy with heat.
A few minutes later Louise stood up. “I need to pop to the ladies,” she said, smoothing her top. She avoided my eyes as she walked off.
The second she was gone, Mick leaned back in his chair and looked straight at me, that arrogant grin spreading across his face.
“Mate,” he said quietly, voice low and sure, “I’m telling you now — I’m having her tonight. Proper. She’s ready for it.”
My stomach dropped. Jealousy burned hot in my chest. “She’s married, Mick. You know that, right? She’s not like the others you chase. She’s not the type for a quick shag in some bedsit.”
Mick laughed softly, completely unbothered. “Married or not, she’s been grinding on my cock all night and kissing me like she’s starving. Trust me, by the end of tonight that ring won’t mean shit. She wants it. And I’m going to give it to her.”
I gripped my pint glass so hard I thought it might crack. “I’m not letting her be alone with you. Not tonight. Not ever, if I can help it.”
Mick just shrugged, eyes gleaming with amusement and victory. “Good luck with that.”
Louise came back from the toilet a moment later, none the wiser. Mick immediately draped his arm behind her again, fingers tracing the nape of her neck.
“Another round?” he asked casually.
Louise glanced at me, a flash of guilt in her eyes, but it wasn’t enough. She looked back at Mick, biting her lip.
Mick leaned in closer to her. “Tell you what — this place is getting loud and the beer’s piss-weak. Why don’t we all head back to my bedsit? I’ve got plenty of cold cans in the fridge, a decent telly, and a few movies.”
He said it like it was nothing, but the way he looked at her made it clear what he really meant. His fingers kept stroking her shoulder, confident and possessive.
“Could be fun,” she said softly, not quite meeting my eyes.
Mick grinned, victorious. “That’s my girl. Finish your drinks and we’ll grab a cab. Trust me — it’ll be a much better night.”
I forced a smile and raised my glass. “To good company,” I said bitterly.
Mick clinked his pint against mine, eyes gleaming. “To good company… and even better nights.”
Elvis kept singing, but the music felt hollow. I sat there and waited for the cab, knowing exactly where this night was headed, and determined not to let Louise out of my sight.....