And all day I had to keep adjusting my pants to account for the warm state of arousal I felt knowing that my wife was out there, getting laid. I would never have thought it would be like this to have Izzie away from me and seeing other guys, where I couldn’t watch what was happening. I guess the imagination filled in the blanks, and quietly built the picture in my mind of my wife as a sexy, scandalous nymph.
The next evening, there were items about the San Francisco rally on CNN, but I found myself peering at the coverage trying to see if any other reporters would be picked up on camera — if I might catch sight of Izzie, and see who she was hanging out with while reporting on the gathering of Democrats.
I knew it was a slim hope. I never got to see her on that broadcast, with or without someone by her side.
That night as I was going to bed, I received another text from Izzie:
>Still at the rally — have a good sleep, sweetie, I love you so much!!! Xxxx
I took heart from her remembering to text me before I went to bed, and from the clear excitement in the tone of her message.
My constant state of arousal while Izzie was away seemed to tire me out — I was asleep easily this time. At some point in the middle of the night, though, my iPhone woke me with a sudden buzz as the vibrate feature trembled against the hard surface of my bedside table.
Izzie had sent a message.
>A clue for you ;-)
Our wi-fi was having a moment, because it could a couple of seconds more to load the image she’d sent along with her text message. I had to shake the fuzziness of sleep from my head before I could quite work out what she was showing me.
I caught my breath as it became clear to me that it was showing a close-up view looking down between her legs, her pussy only just covered by a skimpy pink thong. The faint but clear dark patch in the material suggested that she was already wet. The unopened condom packet tucked mischievously into the waistband of her underwear suggested she was about to do something to release her tension.
Wow, that was some turn-on. I might not get to watch, if it was difficult for her to set up the capability — but I could lie there knowing that at that precise moment, nearly three thousand miles away, my wife was fucking another man.
*
Izzie called me in the morning — about eight-thirty my time, so it had to be about 5.30 in San Francisco.
“Early,” I said to her, wanting to see her face, but the video on FaceTime was taking an age to load up. “Sleep much?”
“A little,” she said. “I wanted to get out of his room… you know… while there was nobody around.”
“Walk of shame,” I grinned.
“Something like that.”
The video came on, and the first thing I saw was a pair of perky, delectable breasts. Her nipples were stiff, but watch struck me most were the streaks of wetness here and there over her chest, which caught the light. That wasn’t sweat.
The held up the phone so I could see her face. She was glowing, her satisfaction clear from her bright eyes, wide smile, rosy cheeks. Her make-up was all smeared — her mascara was running down to her cheeks, while her lipstick seemed to me that she’d chosen a brand that would show me plainly that she’d just gone down on someone.
“You see me now?” she asked.
“I do. You had fun?”
“Uh-huh. You can tell?”
She was in her bathroom, it seemed to me. It was confirmed as she put her iPhone down on the counter beside the sink, and I could see the bathtub/shower behind her. From there by the sink, I was also afforded a nice view of her midriff and her bare pussy until she turned to open the shower door and turn on the water.
Some other guy had fucked that sweet pussy all night. I was so hard. I felt such a burning desire to take her back — frustrating that I couldn’t.
“I assume you didn’t walk back to your room like that,” I said.
“No,” she laughed. “What d’you think hotel bathrobes are for?”
That made me chuckle. “Unfaithful wives, apparently.”
She smirked. “You love it,” she said, turning back toward the phone.
“Uh-huh.”
“Show me?”
I blanked for a moment, not sure what she meant — but then I understood what she meant. It was easy to show her how hard I was, since I was still in my PJs.
“Mmm…” she said, beaming, almost purring as she stooped to show me her face again. “One more night, then I’m taking that for myself.”
“One more night,” I agreed.
I watched her stand by the sink, that stunning well-used pussy of hers filling my iPad screen, as she pulled out some of her face wipes, peering into the mirror to remove her remaining make-up.
“So you’re all right?” she asked me. “You don’t want to stop playing the Game?”
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “And no, I don’t want to stop.”
After a pause, I added, “You’re okay? You want to stop?”
She laughed. “Oh, I am great. I don’t want to stop if you don’t.”
“Great.”
“It just seems so one-sided, that’s all.”
“One-sided?”
She stood up, turned to the shower again. “I’m sleeping with whoever I want to like some wild single girl — and you’re stuck at home waiting for me. Just seems unfair.”
“Oh, right.”
Izzie tested the water, then stepped into the bathtub. “Don’t get me wrong — I’m not saying I’d want you to start dating. It’s just… well, I guess we’ve talked about this.”
“We have,” I said. “I’m getting just as much out of this as you are.”
I watched her washing herself, running her hands over her breasts, her chest, her stomach, between her legs. Cleaning away the evidence of her adultery ready for another day of reporting work.
I said, “I get to enjoy my sexy wife. I have you to turn me on by… well, you know.”
I couldn’t quite say it. I was impressed with how much the two of us had been able to talk about sex, about Izzie’s new dating life, ever since we’d started playing this game. We were improving in this area, in sharing intimate details. But that didn’t stop it being a little awkward sometimes.
“You’re a voyeur,” she said. “You like to watch.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But what about when you can’t watch? If I can’t let you — or if you miss my clues?”
“If I know it’s happening, then I can imagine how it is,” I said. “It turns me on just knowing you’re out there… dating. And if I don’t find out until after… well, it’s still pretty hot, I think, knowing you just did it.”
“You are crazy, you know that?”
“I think I must be.”
Crazy or not, waiting another night for her to come back from San Francisco wasn’t easy, even if it was ultimately pleasurable.
That third night, she sent me another image of her getting ready for her night out — looking sensational in a set of crimson-and-black lace lingerie that I assume she was wearing under a dress of some kind, although I didn’t get a picture of her full ensemble. Then in the middle of the night she sent me a picture of herself naked, or at least wearing only stockings, blowing me a kiss. The state of her told me in no uncertain terms that she’d been freshly fucked.
I think the inability to see anything that had really gone on while she’d been in San Francisco gave me motivation to make sure when the chance came, I would see everything.
The next day I took some time out of my work day — most of the day, as it turned out — and worked on hiding away various cameras and microphones around our house, setting up quite a sophisticated surveillance system, if I did say so myself. The Internet — and Radio Shack for the hardware — proved to offer what I needed to set it all up. Our unfinished basement, where nobody was ever going to think to visit, would offer me somewhere to be when Izzie decided to bring home a date.
She would still date guys out of
town, and she would no doubt go back to their places from time to time. But when she brought any guy back home for the night, I was going to be able to watch everything.
*
Then she was home again, and I naturally had to pick her up from the airport. I was so desperate for her, I almost hustled her into a pubic bathroom to take her in a stall.
I resisted, though, until we got home.
“Am I going to find out who he was?” I asked her as we pulled out of the parking lot at Dulles.
“Maybe,” she said with a cryptic smile.
“Are you going to see him again?”
Another smile. “I hope so.”
“Does he live around here? In the DC area?”
“No,” she shook her head. “He’s quite far away. I think that’s why it felt safe to… well… have a little fun together while we were on the West Coast.”
“A little fun?” I laughed. “Seems to me you had a lot of fun.”
“Oh we did,” she said, wide-eyed and seeming to be glowing. Sexual satisfaction looked good on Izzie. Very good. “He fucked me so hard, I could hardly walk after it.”
I nearly blew a gasket at that.
Izzie didn’t usually talk so dirty with me. I liked it.
“Okay, I need to concentrate on the driving for a while,” I warned her. I didn’t want to cause a major incident on the Beltway just because I was listening to my wife talk about her recent infidelity.
We got home and she pleaded to be allowed to go up and have a shower, to clean up from her long day of travel. I had to let her, but suggested joining her in the shower.
“Just wait for me,” she said. “I like it when you wait for me.”
Was there a streak of cruelty in her? I slumped on the sofa down in the living room as she went upstairs. I’d waited three nights for her, I could wait a little longer. While she was in the shower, though, every minute of waiting seemed interminable.
Then there she was, a goddess floating down the stairs wearing a long-sleeve bodysuit made of luxurious black lace, with thigh-high black stockings.
“Hi,” she smiled, walking down the steps like some supermodel on the catwalk.
“Hi,” I said.
“I wore this for him,” she said. “Or something like it, anyway.”
“Is that so?”
“Thought you’d like to see.”
She walked around me, around the couch to stand in front of me, moving, turning, posing for me. Showing off her exquisite body. The butterflies fluttered in my stomach to think that she’d dressed up like this for another man during her time away from me.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “I bet he couldn’t resist you in that.”
She smiled, and slowly walked toward me, lifting one foot up onto the couch beside me, her hands running all over her body, one stroking over her lace-clad pussy.
“As soon as he saw it, he was tearing it off me,” she said. “Almost not worth wearing it.”
Izzie pulled at the crotch of her body suit, and the material parted to reveal her pussy, already gently glistening with her moisture. She stroked it, and dipped a couple of fingers inside herself, before withdrawing them to touch them against my lips.
I sucked on her fingers, tasting her.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t see me with him,” she said, smiling broadly at my obvious enjoyment of her flavor. “There really was nowhere I could hide my iPhone, not where it wasn’t obvious what I would be doing.”
“It’s okay,” I said, pulling myself up to my feet now. Kissing her mouth. “It’s going to be like that, isn’t it? Sometimes.”
“Probably.”
“The important thing is, you’re back here with me now.”
I took hold of her and threw her playfully down onto the couch, as though she were my property. Izzie squealed with delight. I started stripping off my clothes for her — well, my smart casual attire was hardly a match for her drop-dead gorgeous sex goddess attire.
She sat there and bit her lip, playing with her long auburn hair flirtatiously as she watched me from the couch, before her hands dropped down to her lap, and she was stroking her pussy while she saw me removing my clothes.
“It felt very naughty, being away from home,” she said. “Seducing some guy thousands of miles away from you.”
“Uh-huh.”
She grinned wickedly. “I can see why some women like to cheat. Even though I knew you were okay with it… it seemed wrong. And so exciting because of that.”
“Good,” I said, crouching wearing only my boxers now. Watching her touching herself as I held one of her stocking-clad feet, stroking her gently. She was so stunning, it was so beautiful watching her taking care of herself like that. I could smell her arousal, I could hear the wet sounds of her fingers playing with her slippery folds, along with the soft sighs as she responded to the feelings.
But I could wait and watch for only so long. I craved her body.
“Did you like it more than the time you knew I was watching you?” I asked her, kissing my way up her leg.
“No,” she said, then tempered her thought, “I don’t know. I love it when you’re watching. But when you’re not… it’s different.”
As I neared her pussy, the spicy scent of her arousal was strong. I was buzzing all over at the knowledge of her infidelity as I touched the tip of my tongue there, as I tasted her tangy goodness.
“Different?” I prompted her.
She caught her breath as I engulfed her clit in my hot mouth, sucking very gently on it.
Then she said, “It is. It’s a different high, one way or the other.”
She sighed as I pressed my face against her, my tongue wedging itself into her soaking groove. “When you’re watching,” she said, “I feel like I’m performing for you. I’m turning you on, directly. I love it. But when I’m not with you… I guess it feels even more… naughty.”
“Uh-huh,” I smiled, and she gasped as I slid two fingers inside her.
“I guess I… get the sense… that I’m cheating…”
“And you like that? Cheating?” I was smiling at her, kind of turned on that she got a buzz from cheating on me. There I was again, twisted. I couldn’t help it.
“I think a lot of women probably do,” she said. “Most women, even.”
I removed my fingers and sucked her juices from them, before returning to lap at her wetness from the source. Her sighs turned to panting, her body writhing under me as I ate her. She lay back, along the couch, her hands moving to hold my head, encouraging me, guiding me, pulling me against her.
Her moans became cries as I pressed my face firmly against her, feeling her wetness all over my mouth, my cheeks, my chin, my every breath saturate with the scent of her excitement.
Was it cheating or not if she didn’t let me watch her with other men? I don’t know. But just then I couldn’t get enough of her cheating pussy.
Infidelity just added to the fascination I had for my wife. Over the years we’d been married, that fascination had tempered into familiarity, and while our sex life had always been pretty good, it had settled into something akin to a routine before we’d started playing this Game.
Now, my Izzie was as intriguing to me again as any woman could be. It was, I think, a significant part of the reason why this whole sharing thing did not involve any hint of me wanting to have other women as well.
Izzie was her own woman, free and independent. Able to go out there and do whatever she wanted, see whoever she wanted. Sleep with whoever she wanted — within reason, of course. Within the rules of our Game.
There on the couch she fucked my face and I loved every moment of it, and it seemed to me that I had given her the experience of adultery, and that I adored her after it, worshipping her body in part because of it — that made her come as much as the physical touching of my mouth on her sweet pussy.
She pushed me back on the couch, and now she was stroking my hardness with her stockinged feet through my boxer shorts.
Loving how turned on I was by her promiscuity. She crawled over to me, kissed my mouth, licked her way down my chest and stomach.
She pulled my cock out of my underwear, sucking it into her hot mouth.
I groaned, and watching her bob down on my shaft, her pretty face framed by her dark auburn hair, I found myself imagining that in the last few days, she’d been doing this with some other cock, some other man.
The wicked nymph.
I burned inside to think of it — but it only enhanced the sensations as she sucked on me.
After a while, I had to wriggle out from her clutches. I was about to explode in her mouth, but what I wanted — what I needed — was to reclaim her sex.
I pulled myself up, and she was smiling, enjoying playing the sex siren again. Wiping her mouth on her arm as she lay there on her front, waiting for me to show her what I wanted from her next.
I stroked her bare behind, marveling at its shape, and she pushed it up to offer me better access. God, her shape seemed designed specifically to drive men crazy. She pushed her butt up so that I could duck down and steal another taste of her juicy pussy.
I slid my fingers inside her, and she let out a gasp. It was as though the whole weekend — and her first climax with me here — had set her body into easy orgasm mode. She was just so sensitive to my touch there.
I parted her buttocks and sucked on her pussy, making her come again like that — if she was in easy orgasm mode, I was going to do it as I liked best, and it was just plain beautiful in my eyes to make a woman come with my mouth.
She didn’t seem to object that afterwards, I pressed my hard cock between her buttocks, and moved to enter her like that. She moaned and raised her hips for me to stroke the tip of my cock over her slippery channel, then ease myself slowly inside her.
The Game (A Hotwife Adventure) Page 13