My Bestfriend and I had Sex in the Fitting Room

Have you ever had that one friend who always went further than he should? Even when he was dating, he still made me feel like I (24F at that point) was the only one in the room. That was my best friend (30M). He always knew when I needed emotional attention and care the most.

When my last relationship ended, he was there: checking in, showing up, giving me more attention than anyone else. Sometimes it felt like too much, but I didn’t push him away. His eyes gave him away. They always told me that he wanted something more.

My brother noticed it too. He told me clearly: “That guy is waiting for his chance with you.” I laughed it off and pretended I didn’t believe him. But deep down, I already knew. Some men, you just know what they want. They'd have you the second you let them. And he that kind of man.

One day, our friend group had planned to watch a movie at the mall. Six of us, guys and girls. He and I got there first, and I wanted to look for a dress for an event. We wandered through the racks together (not the first time we did that) joking, picking things out. I grabbed a few options and jumped into the fitting room. The first dress was fine. The second one, wrong size. He offered to grab another. A minute later, he was back, peeking in to hand it over. His eyes landed on me, topless, just in my panties. I froze, and grabbed the dress to my chest. He didn’t back away. He stepped inside. We just stood there for a moment, face to face in that tiny space, the air as heavy as you can imagine. My heart racing, and my body between the thrill of panic and lust.

He didn’t move away. He leaned closer. I kissed him. He grabbed me harder, we were feeling each other up, intensely. I dropped to my knees, always craving the idea of sex in the fitting rooms. I pulled his pants down and sucked him into my mouth. He pulled me back up, turned me around, and pushed himself into my pussy. I moaned, I couldn't hold myself. It was louder than I needed to be. We fucked for about a minute before one of the employees noticed it, and asked us to leave. During sex. It was horrible, shameful, but we stopped and left.

We walked out like nothing happened. No words, no glances, just silence. Our friends showed up, and we watched the movie as if we hadn’t just crossed a line we can never uncross. But every time I caught his eyes in the dark, I felt it all over again. The rush. The shame. The sex. The ache for more. The lust.

At the end of the night, he dropped me back home. I couldn’t hold it in. I told him we needed to forget it, to never speak of it again. He didn’t argue. He just leaned in and kissed me. Harder this time. That kiss was difficult to reject, and it dissolved everything. All of a sudden our tongues were tangled again in his car, and then.. in my place. It was messy, reckless, unstoppable. And once it happened, it didn’t stop at just once. I didn't want to let him in to my place, but I did. In my place, we touched. And sucked. And fucked. And licked. Every inch.

For weeks, we found ourselves back in each others laps. I was riding him. He was pulling my hair. When we fucked, we did it in every corner, in every position. Three times in total after our first time. Until we both knew we had to stop before it ruined and destroyed everything. Our friendship, our group, our lives, it was bad, but that's why it was hot.

I had to behave. I feel guilty at times. I feel hot and wet about it at times. But no one ever knew about this, and it was never brought up. After that, we drifted apart. He wasn’t my bestfriend anymore, but he taught me something I never wanted to believe: "Most guys in my life wanted to fuck me no matter how much I thought they didn't. And he was the one who showed me."