My best friend's wife, Angelina, was one of the hottest women I'd ever met. Tall, shoulder-length brunette, stacked and the bluest eyes imaginable.
But she was taken. She was my best friend, Roger's, pride and joy. She meant everything to him. How he managed to land such a hot chick, I will never know.
I tried to stay away from her - to not think about her soft, sensuous curves, her buxom rack and her caring smile. I really, really tried.
But Angelina was one of those outgoing, open women who made friends easily. From the moment he introduced me to her when they started dating, she accepted me as part of the deal. She fed me, she looked after me and generally doted on me like I was HER best friend - not just Roger's.
I swear to God every time we got together, my mind instantly traveled to all the naughty, forbidden things I wanted to do to her. Intrusive thoughts. I kept pushing them away, but the more I pushed, the more they pushed back.