Hotwife Kelly Bundle

by R. C. Curtis

  Dwane let go of her nipple, and gave her breast a light slap. “Great tits,” he emphasized. “Although, in all modesty, I think I am a fair match for your wife’s abundant gifts.”

  I didn’t quite follow him. Kelly continued dreamily playing with his cock through his pants. She rolled a little onto her back and sighed. “Is someone going to fuck me? I need.”

  Dwane patted her, then looked at me.

  “You ready for the big reveal?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Come on,” he said. “You know you want to. She’s going to be talking about my cock, don’t you want to see it so you know what she’s talking about?”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “You have to ask me,” said Dwane. “Ask me to show it to you,”

  “Come on,” said Kelly, impatiently, but it wasn’t clear who she was saying it to.

  I felt uncomfortable.

  “Alright,” I said. “Show it to me.”

  Dwane grinned and stood up, slipping off his pants. Kelly had been stroking his cock, but it was only partly tumescent. It hung down long and low halfway down his thigh.

  “Ain’t that a beauty?” admired Dwane. “No wonder she loves fucking me.”

  Kelly lay on her back with her arms stretched over her head. Her dress had shifted, covering her recalcitrant breast and its inconstant nipple once more. “It’s not how big it is,” said Kelly. “His cock is fine too. You’re just good at using it.”

  I wasn’t sure how to take that. With my wife’s breast no longer exposed, Dwane’s cock was now clearly the dominant sexual feature in the room. It hung heavy, still thickening, rough veined with a bulbous head easing out of the foreskin. I don’t think of myself as a small man, but my first thought was that his cock was twice my length and girth. It looked like a weapon, a bludgeon hanging from a belt at his waist, but it was obviously all his. He was justifiably proud.

  He sat on the bed again and Kelly rolled onto her side and began to stroke his cock again. Her little hand wrapped most of the way around it, and she seemed eager to urge it to a satisfying hardness. She started to chatter to it, cooing, telling to grow big, and encouraging it, like you would praise a pet for performing well.

  For a good thirty seconds, when Dwane unveiled his member, my own had gone slack. But watching Kelly stroke and pamper his made my own cock stir and grow hard again. I was fully erect before he was, but in fairness, he had more mass to stiffen, plus he had already fucked my clearly willing wife more than a few times already that day.

  Dwane leaned back. “See what I mean?” Kelly slipped her mouth over the bulging head of his cock. I think she had forgotten I was in the room.

  “She’s like a wild thing,” continued Dwane. “You would never guess. Does she fuck you like this?”

  Kelly lay on her belly now, her head bobbing up and down on Dwane’s cock. Normally Kelly likes to tease, but evidently she was in too much of a hurry now. The shaft of his cock glistened with her saliva.

  “Sometimes, “I said.

  “You are a lucky man,” said Dwane, clearly not believing me.

  Dwane pulled of his shirt. Kelly still sucked his cock, but she was getting a little messy now. She was clearly too stoned or drunk to be as ladylike as she typically was. A dribble of saliva slid down her chin. More saliva pooled around the base of his shaft and his balls. Her breathing was a little heavy and fast.

  “She’s been playing with my balls all day,” said Dwane. “I love foreplay, but I need to get my cock inside this girl.” He pulled her off his cock. “Come one girl, let’s get your slutty tits out.” He helped Kelly pull off her dress. She had, of course, nothing on underneath it. My now naked wife bent down over his cock again, eager to put it in her mouth.

  “You want to watch?” said Dwane to me. “Again, not really a question. My own cock strained mightily against my own pants. Yes I wanted to watch. And yes, no one is asking, but I want to fuck my clearly aroused little wife.

  Dwane pulled her off his cock again and pushed her down onto the bed. Her breasts jiggled as she shifted position. She lay almost sideways across the bed.

  Dwane opened her thighs, and moved between them. My wife was already arching her back, impatient to feel him inside her. He raised her leg up high. I could see her exposed pussy. “Please please please.” begged my wife.

  Dwane gripped his stiff cock in one hand and brought the oversized head of it to my wife’s pussy, slowly wriggling it into her folds. My wife bucked up toward it. He rubbed his cockhead up and down along her labia. Kelly groaned.

  Dwane thrust, and half the length of his cock slid into Kelly. He thrust again and she arched her back and moaned, gripping the bedsheets with her hands. He slowly pulled back, leaving just the head tucked between her folds, then thrust firmly ahead again, this time sinking the entire swollen glistening shaft into my wife.

  Dwane held still, but my wife writhed under him, eager to receive his thrusts. He, pushed her leg down and grabbed her hips with both hands. “You fucking cheap slut,” he said, and thrust roughly into her. Her stomach flexed, and her breasts jostled at the impact. “I fucking hate you,” hissed my wife, as he recoiled for another deep thrust. “You fucking whore” he growled, and pounded into her once more. His body struck hers with a loud slap. He grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head as he began relentlessly fucking her. Kelly writhed under him, her body fucking him back as violently as he fucked her.

  I’d never seen anything like it.

  He taunted her verbally and physically, slowing down the pace long enough to drive her crazy with need. He called her names, told her what he was going to do to her, and what a slut she was for being in his bed. He called her a cheating wife who needs to fuck around, a worthless whore, a wriggling piece of shit.

  Kelly squirmed and spat and told him how much she hated him. And the two of them fucked each other harder and harder.

  He kept changing the rhythm too. He would fuck her with hard fast strokes, then switch to deep rotating movement, then to short little strokes, then to long slow penetration. It was uncanny. I know my wife. She doesn’t often come from just fucking, but when she is close, I know she is close. He knew it too, and when she got close he would change his pattern and mess her up. Several times she cried out in frustration, but he would immediately start building the tension in her body again. And then again thwart her orgasm just as she was on the verge. His energy seemed limitless.

  I expected her to collapse, to suddenly lose interest, to be pushed too far, but it never happened. Like Sisyphus she kept climbing towards orgasm, and kept being denied. My own cock was so stiff, so taut, I thought I would come if I so much as moved.

  Kelly was verbal for quite a while, begging him to let her come, begging him to fuck her, begging him for a hundred things. She told him how much she loved his cock, how much she wanted his cum in her. He made her confess sins, men she had lusted after, things she had done that no one knew. And then she stopped talking, she just fucked and fucked and fucked, the two of them a writhing creature of heat and lust, her completely lost, and him with just enough control to still deny her release, moments punctuated by her howls of frustration whenever he broke a new crescendo.

  Finally, he slowed. He fucked her deliberately now. They were glistening with sweat, both exhausted. She stared up at him as he slid his cock slowly in, and then out of her. Over and over. Kelly whimpered. Her arms were flung out over her head. Her body barely rose to meet his thrusts, slow as they were. She breathed ragged and deep. Her breasts were slick, her inner thighs wet. His cock moved easily inside her, relentless, probing and demanding.

  He made her apologize to me. It took a few tries, and she seemed to just be repeating the words he said to her, but she apologized for being such a slut. Then he held his cock still, buried deep, deep inside her, as far as it could fit. He told her to beg. He made her beg for him to fuck her, to cum in her. She promised to be a slave to his cock forever, to always open her thighs to hi
m, to never deny him anything. She promised her mouth, her ass, her firstborn maybe, who knew? She promised anything he asked. When he was satisfied with her answers he began to fuck her again.

  Kelly knew the end was close. She fucked him back and he fucked her savagely. Their bodies struggled with each other, hers open, allowing him into her, and he drove deep, seeking pleasure inside her. Kelly cried out constantly now, little sharp yelps of fear and desire. Dwane fucked her grimly, his face intense.

  Kelly’s cries quickened, and Dwane increased his pace, driving his cock into her eager belly.

  And for a moment time stood still.

  Kelly gasped, and held her breath. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs clenching him for an instant. Then she spasmed, crying out loudly, her legs quivering. Dwane’s ass clenched and he drove his cock deep into her pussy jerking, convulsing. I know my wife. Kelly came hard, mindlessly, loudly, her body a single repeated spasm of pleasure, as Dwane shot his sperm deep into her womb. Even now they found a rhythm, their bodies releasing in rhythm, a primal dance of synchronicity.

  I thought they would never stop coming. Kelly almost didn’t. She clung to Dwane, his cock buried inside her, and every dozen heartbeats or so she would cry out and spasm again. At last he rolled away from her, lying beside her on his back and just stared upwards. Kelly lay breathing deep, still shuddering every so often, the tendons of her inner thighs slack, defeated and streaked with his cum.

  I waited for them to stir, but they both seemed to drift off to sleep, or perhaps they passed out. Either way, I turned off the light, and left them lying together.

  Dwane Uses His Possession

  I thought the final day could show me nothing new about my wife.

  I was naive.

  For most of the day, this was true. Dwane and Kelly were almost subdued, if not merely exhausted, from their exertions of the day before. While I spent most of the day with a partial, and occasionally full, and sometimes even raging, erection, they were not as sexual as the previous two days. Sure, Dwane dressed her in a skimpy little sundress that backlit showed she wore no underwear, but somehow that seemed almost tame now. Or to Dwane anyway. He showed little interest in playing with her. For myself, and many of the other men, Kelly was still very much a sexual conquest we were eager to subdue.

  I think her languid movements, due to satiation and probably exhaustion, were actually even more arousing to the men around me. I heard a number of unguarded comments about Kelly, and had more than a few similar thoughts myself.

  By dinner time, Kelly had her energy back. She had a swing to her hips as she moved that could not be missed. Her posture, everything about her suddenly said “Fuck Me,” for the first time, to anyone who cared to notice. And I think just about everyone did. A number of men brushed against her during the evening, as everyone relaxed in the bar after dinner. Kelly seemed to enjoy the attention, even court it, which was not like her. I also noticed a chill settling in around her from some of the women, which actually made her seem even sexier.

  Everything Kelly wore this weekend, after we got there, had been chosen by Dwane himself. The first night, the too large and ill fighting halter dress, made Kelly look like trash. A slut. A woman too eager to show off her body, and too trashy to know what was appropriate. I knew it, Kelly knew it, and everyone who looked at her knew it. The little sundress the next day was still sexy, but more innocent. Kelly looked like a naive girl who had underdressed, but was so cute you had no problem forgiving her for it.

  But tonight.

  Dwane dressed her formally for dinner.

  Kelly wore a strapless gown, slit at the side, with gloves. She had her hair up. She looked like a debutante, or a girl going to the prom for the first time. Very formal, very tightly controlled. The gown hugged her body. She looked beautiful. She looked like a mistress, not a slut. And while her curves still told you all the wicked things you wanted to do to her still existed, her outfit meant you had to measure up if you wanted to have any chance of bringing them to pass.

  Do you know that moment when you look at a woman and you lust for her, and you hope somehow something will happen that gives you a chance to explore that lust?

  I looked at my wife now through those eyes.

  I won’t pretend I was not jealous. Imagine yourself as me. Of course I was jealous. Kelly is my wife. Mine. And yet, the rules were changed. I could not have her, and still I lusted for her. I wanted something to happen that I could enjoy her now tightly controlled sexuality.

  Because that dress could only be worn by a woman who had surrendered.

  The dress hugged her, kept her from moving freely.

  And she glowed in it.

  I saw several women immediately talk to their husbands. As focused as I was on Kelly, my peripheral perception was on high alert. I don’t think many of the men got it. But the women, they saw a threat. Kelly was a threat. Kelly knew it, the wives knew it, and the men were just staring at Kelly and wanting her.

  In the next few minutes I saw three couples excuse themselves and slip away from the dinner. I would bet anything that all three of those wives were fucked soundly that night. I would also bet that every man fucking his wife was thinking of Kelly, and that every wife getting fucked knew he was. Beyond that, I make no claims. Human sexuality is murky at best. Some women may have carried that resentment in their belly for years; others may have seen it as a triumph of their marriage over the far greater sexual allure of a wanton one night crazy experience.

  Either way, they absented themselves. In reflection, I wonder if it made Dwane even bolder.

  And by bolder, I almost mean banal. We had dinner, each of us at our tables, without erotic incident. Kelly, in her gown, her breasts squeezed together, her ripe cleavage on blatant and elegant display, could not have been more sensual. And yet Dwane ignored her.

  I had seen his hands rove over her so many times this weekend, but now he was indifferent.

  Kelly on the other hand was sex itself.

  Everyone seemed to understand that. I could feel the lust for her all around me, and at the same time the confusion around Dwane’s indifference to her. I considered that perhaps only I knew that Dwane had buried his cock in my wife so many times this weekend that he was finally becoming inured to her charms. But I have fucked Kelly many, many times. I have never tired of her, never not been thrilled at her cries as she came. I guessed that something larger was building, but I could not guess what.

  I doubt Kelly guessed.

  But Dwane knew.

  Relationships shift. Dwane had jealously guarded Kelly all weekend. I sensed his unease the night before when Kelly followed me outside to talk. I found it striking that this man, who has been fucking my wife all weekend, and with evident reciprocation, came outside to reclaim her from me.

  This was about ownership.

  Dwane wanted Kelly.

  I understood that. Everyone wants a piece of Kelly. Usually that piece is that soft wet gap snuggled between her thighs, but men don’t want to pay the price it takes to get there. They just hope to get lucky.

  I knew Kelly had enjoyed fucking Dwane. I didn’t know the details yet, but clearly she was more than willing to surrender her body to him. Maybe not at first, but by now? Yes, she enjoyed fucking him and no doubt looked forward to it. At least for this weekend.

  I had made my peace with it. After all, I’m no saint. I’ve seen women that I would have loved to fuck. I just didn’t, because of Kelly.

  I am sure Kelly has lusted in secret as well. Why wouldn’t she? We are hardwired to fuck the people we find attractive. Monogamy is late to the game.

  I’d already watched Dwane fuck Kelly, and I’d already watched her enjoy it.

  I needed to come.

  I wanted to watch him fuck her again, and I wanted to fuck her myself. I knew I was 24 hours from emptying my cock into her wayward pussy, but I just wanted to see her moaning and eager to come.

  Can you imagine my lust? It consumed
me. I was not a rational man.

  And yet dinner was banal.

  Would you be put off if I confessed I rubbed my erection through my pants? I took care that no one saw, but the tension was terrific.

  And yet dinner was banal.

  Banal in that Dwane paid Kelly very little mind.

  No stroking her, no laying his hand upon her compliant thigh.

  He seemed indifferent.

  Ah, but Kelly. I’ve never seen a more sexual creature. She talked happily with Dwane, her breasts squeezed together into a spectacular display of cleavage. She wore the gloves well, elegantly. Her hair looked exquisite. She had a pair of little curls dangling in front of each ear. I’d never been more desperate to fuck a woman, and yet she was my own wife. I had fucked her so many times, and yet here she was, this exotic, elusive creature that burned in my brain.