(Second time posting thing - I got nervous and deleted the first account 🫢)

Earlier this year, my newly divorced friend and her kids joined my husband and me, along with our kids, on a tropical getaway. She’s always been a playful flirt with my husband, something I’ve usually laughed off. But one afternoon, after we’d spent hours by the pool, sipping cocktails and loosening up, I noticed something different. As my husband stepped out of the water, dripping wet, his swim trunks clinging to every curve of his body, she locked eyes on the bulge in his shorts. Her gaze lingered, her lips parted ever so slightly, as if she was in a trance.

I watched, my own pulse quickening, as she seemed utterly captivated by the outline of his cock, as though nothing else in the world existed at that moment. It was like she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

At first, I didn’t know how to feel—part jealousy, part excitement. But it was impossible to ignore the way her body tensed, the way her mouth subtly watered, betraying her desire as she ogled him. And somehow, that stirred something deep within me.

I’ve never considered myself to be bi or even curious, but ever since that moment, I can’t stop thinking about it. The more I recall the intensity of her stare, the more I fantasise. I find myself imagining her and my husband together, his body exposed, while I watch from the shadows. I dream of being a voyeur to his pleasure, of seeing her take him, inch by thick, throbbing inch, while I sit there, unable to resist touching myself.

I’ve never told my husband or her about this fantasy. But I have shared some of the intimate details of our wild nights, teasing her with stories of what my husband does to me—how he handles me in both private and semi-public spaces, his large, girthy cock giving me just the right amount of pleasurable pain. I can see her mind racing as I recount every detail. Her eyes glaze over, and I know she’s imagining herself in my place, wondering what it would be like to feel him deep inside her.

Just recently, during a girls’ night out, one of our friends shared a story about women who cloned their husbands’ penises with ‘Clone a Willy’ kits. While most of the group laughed, the friend I’ve been fantasising about turned to me, her voice low, and said, “I’d pay for a clone of your husband’s cock.” The way she said it sent a jolt through my body.

We both laughed it off, but that night, as I lay in bed alone—my husband working a night shift and the kids at my in-laws—I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I imagined her, moaning and writhing beneath a perfect replica of his thick cock, while I watched, my body burning with arousal. I couldn’t help myself. I masturbated harder than I ever had before, picturing the two of them together, her taking him in ways I’d only ever dreamed of witnessing.

And now, I’ve done it. I just ordered a ‘Clone a Willy’ kit. Stay tuned for how this fantasy plays out in real life.