The Other Man (West Coast Hotwifing)

by Jasmine Haynes

  Why be coy? She wanted to be bold. “I was the one who talked him into it. A video. A phone call. It might be too hot to handle.”

  “Lady, if we don’t get up to my room soon, I’ll have to pull you out onto the dark beach and do you right there.”

  She laughed. She’d love that. A man too crazy with desire to wait until they made it to a bed. It was exactly what she’d wanted out of hotwifing. In her head, she knew Keith loved her, that the problem was purely physical, yet she couldn’t help feeling unwanted, undesirable, the horrible sense that if she were more of a woman, her husband wouldn’t have any problem getting it up. It was a matter of what her head knew versus what her heart felt.

  But this man made her feel his desire deep inside.

  As if he could see the words written in a cartoon bubble above her head, he said, “I want to fuck you so bad right now I can’t see straight. I don’t even know what I did today.”

  She fell into his gaze, into his need, and suddenly playing wasn’t enough. She wanted the real thing. “Now,” she whispered. If she could, she’d have climbed onto his lap right then. She was wet. She was ready.

  He slid a hand surreptitiously into his pants pocket, then laid his palm on her thigh, the cool of hard plastic between them. “My room key. Use it. I’ve got another one. Go in and get naked for me. I want to walk in and find you in bed waiting.”

  He removed his hand, and she palmed the card key.

  “Naked,” he repeated. “On the bed.”

  She had everything she needed in her purse. Her pulse was racing as she left him. The elevator was packed and noisy, a group of partiers, drinks in their hands, heading back to someone’s room. Zoe clung to the back of the car. She was alone by the time she got to Spence’s floor. Part of her wished he’d accompanied her. She wanted his hands up her skirt, touching her as they made their way down the hall. But it was also incredibly sexy to imagine spreading herself out on his bed.

  Opening the door to his room, she walked out of her sandals in the short hallway. The bathroom light was on, and she stepped inside. She ran her fingers over the shaver he’d left on the counter. A kit lay open with toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, the usual stuff. The towels, though used since the maid had been in this morning, weren’t lying on the floor, but hung neatly. She didn’t know why she was looking, what difference it made, but she liked that he was tidy.

  Back in the hall, she tugged off her dress and tossed it on the carpet. She discarded her panties halfway to the bed.

  The condom package and lube weren’t in sight. He’d probably put them in a drawer so the maid didn’t freak out. Her camera and vibrator were in the bottom of her bag, and she set them on the side table, turning the lamp on. After pulling the comforter, blanket, and top sheet to the bottom of the bed, she left the phone within reach next to her. With a thick pillow beneath her head, she laid herself out for him.

  Then she had a moment of genius.

  * * * * *

  Her sandals lay on the carpet just inside the door. At the end of the short hall, her dress had been tossed aside. Spence flipped off the bathroom light. The room was bathed in shadows, though not completely dark. He detected a soft mechanical hum. Then a moan. He followed the siren call of her panties in the middle of the room.

  And his heart stalled in his chest. She lay on his bed, her skin tones dark against the white sheet, her hair fanned across the pillow, nipples peaked, beckoning. Her legs were spread wide, the vibrator buzzing. Eyes closed, she arched into the pillow and moaned.

  Christ. There were so many things he hadn’t done to that gorgeous body. So many things he wanted to do. He couldn’t tear his clothes off fast enough, tossing his polo shirt one way, fumbling at his belt, then the button of his slacks, until finally he was naked.

  “Dirty bitch starting without me,” he said, crawling onto the bed between her legs. Moisture pearled on the trimmed hair, her clit plump.

  “You were taking too long,” she groused in a sultry voice, then moaned again as the vibrator hit a sensitive spot.

  Even as she worked herself, he crawled over her, his cock grazing her fingers. He bent to a succulent nipple, sucked it between his lips. She gave a guttural growl of pleasure and held him to her breast with one hand. Then he shifted higher, took her lips, plundered her mouth.

  Pushing back into the pillow, she whispered dirty words for him. “Fuck me. Take me. Make me come.” Her breath chuffed as she spoke.

  “First I’m going to taste you.” He made his way back down her body, nipping the fragrant skin of her throat, suckling both nipples, licking her belly, until he nudged the vibrator aside and took her with his tongue.

  She arched and moaned, threaded her fingers through his hair to hold his head close between her thighs. Raising her knees, she rocked with every slip-slide of his tongue until she flopped against the mattress again and opened completely for him.

  “Yes, yes, lick me, suck me.” She chanted, gasped, moaned, drove him crazy with her sounds, her taste, the heat of her pussy. Then her body quivered, shook, and she cried out. Twisting, she tried to wriggle away, but he held her hips down, went at her, forced her to ride the wave until it crested and cascaded down over her.

  “Oh. My. God,” she finally whispered, eyes closed, body collapsed, boneless.

  “Call him and tell him how good I am.”

  She laughed without cracking a lid. “What, you need your ego stroked?”

  At the mention, he stroked his cock, already hard, dripping with pre-come. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make him crazy.” Whatever it took to make her crazy.

  “I’ll call him when you’re inside me. When you’re shooting the video. So that when he watches it, he’ll remember the things I was saying to him.”

  “Very kinky,” he said mildly. Shifting on the bed, he opened the side-table drawer, withdrew the lube and condoms he’d put away. Retrieving the camera, he set everything on the bed within easy reach. On his knees between her thighs, he pulled her legs over his. She opened her eyes to watch him as he stroked himself, his cock mere inches from her.

  “Oh my God, you’re never going to fit.”

  Though he was a bit above average, she was still pandering to his ego. He would definitely fit. “Stroke me,” he demanded.

  She cupped his balls in her palm and caressed him with a slow sensuous rhythm.

  “Good. Perfect. Yeah. Just like that.”

  With his eyes closed, he savored her touch and licked her taste from his lips. Then he reached for the condom box.

  Her help made the procedure more difficult, but the light touches were too sexy to stop. When they had the condom on, she held him in her fist and rubbed the tip of his cock against her.

  “Mmm,” she murmured. “That’s good. Turn on the video.”

  He focused and hit the record button, watching the small screen. “That’s totally hot.”

  There was just her hand, her pussy, his cock. Sexy beyond measure.

  “We need a little lube.” Opening the cap, she drizzled the head with liquid, spread it around his crown, on herself, too. “Now I need to call my husband. Don’t enter me till he answers.” She wiped her hand on her thigh, leaving a seductive streak of moisture.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured as she picked up the phone and punched a button.

  “Hi, honey.” Her voice was pitched low and seductive.

  That was his signal. A hand on her hip, he nudged her entrance. Zoe guided his cock.

  “God, honey, that’s so good. He’s so big.” She arched as he breached her. “Yes, so good. I thought it would hurt, but I feel perfectly filled.” She fluttered her eyelashes at Spence for effect.

  On camera, she was spread wide, the length of his cock still visible, only his crown inside her. “Tell him he’s going to love this video.” He slid deeper, slowly, catching it all on the screen.

  “Ooh.” It was barely more than her breath.

  “Use your vibrator,” he told her.

&n
bsp; “Yes,” she said, “he wants the vibrator at the same time.” She patted the bed until she located the toy. Turning it on, she touched it to her clit and moaned.

  He eased deeper still, watching his cock fill her, then withdrew with equal slowness. The sight was mesmerizing on screen.

  “Oh my God.” She breathed heavily. “It’s never felt like that. It’s gotta be the vibrator.”

  It was his cock. It was her pussy. It was their desire. But he let her feed her husband the delusion. As he pulled out, the vibrator buzzed his cock. He shivered, it was so damn good, not just the toy, but her pussy’s grip on him, the unconscious flexing of her muscles around him.

  He began a slow, steady rhythm inside her, never going too deep but riding the slight bump of her G-spot as she circled her clit with the vibrator.

  “Baby, baby, baby,” she chanted, raising her knees, her feet in the air, legs quivering. “Good, oh God, so good.”

  He angled the camera up to take in her face, eyes closed, lips moving, breath puffing, her hair a dark mass across the pillow. She held the phone, but he wasn’t sure she was even aware of it anymore. He panned down again, to her breasts, nipples taut, then her belly, the vibrator in her hand. Along his flanks, her toes alternately flexed and pointed. Her scent rose to intoxicate him, sweet, earthy, sexual. He tightened his butt, keeping the rhythm steady even as her pussy clenched around him. Fuck, it was good, but he wanted her lost in bliss before he went off. He wanted her chanting nonsense to her husband. Fuck if that wasn’t hot, too, knowing the man heard every sound, that he’d watch the video later and match the words to the images.

  “Oh God, it’s like I’m coming and I can’t stop. Just on and on and on. Oh my God.”

  The vibrator had been genius. The position, necessary for the video, made it possible for her to double her sensations, enhanced them. That, in turn, doubled them for him. It took everything in him not to pound. His body clamored for a hard, fast ride to the finish line.

  Dropping the phone, she grabbed his thigh, fingers clutching. Crying out with unintelligible words, she doubled over, her entire body shaking, legs quivering. Inside, she gripped him like a vice, her body working him until he was on the edge. His control broke when she tossed aside the vibrator and pulled him down. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, hard, please, I need it so bad.”

  There was suddenly no camera. There was just her, her body, driving him mad. He pounded ruthlessly, her legs at his waist, arms around him, tight, nails biting into him, his face buried in her hair, the scent of her everywhere. Until the moment she reached down, palmed his balls, squeezing, and he lost it all.

  * * * * *

  He quivered with need just listening to them. Keith felt crazy, his blood boiling in his veins. Those sounds, her words. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. He had to have that video.

  The guy pushed every button Keith had. A big cock, a strong man, stretching her, taking her hard. All the things Keith couldn’t do. They’d created so many fantasies where he was forced to give her to another guy. A big biker who had his two friends hold Keith back while he had his nasty way with Zoe. A cop who stopped him for speeding and demanded Zoe suck him off to get them out of the ticket. College frat boys who locked him in a closet while they took turns with Zoe. They’d even made up one where he’d cheated on Zoe, and to keep her, he was forced to watch her fuck the hot next-door neighbor. It was crazy, maybe he was crazy, but Keith loved it.

  This fantasy was the best, though. Because the man was real. And he made Zoe scream.

  Chapter Six

  “Holy hell,” Spence muttered against her hair.

  Zoe couldn’t move, and not just because of his weight on her. She’d never come like that in her life. It had to be the addition of the vibrator. She could have sworn the climax began the moment she put the vibrator to her clit and did not stop the entire time. But it wasn’t just the vibrator because she certainly didn’t come like that when she used it on her own. No, it was him, his cock. Maybe size really did matter.

  “Mmm,” she managed, though there wasn’t much coherency in that.

  They were a tangle of limbs. His weight on her was delicious, but finally he slid to the side, pulling her with him, cradling her. “I knew there was something special about you.”

  She put her cheek to his chest, the dusting of hair there soft against her skin. “Uh-huh,” she agreed. She still wasn’t capable of speech.

  “Your husband’s going to love that video.” He shifted, feeling around on the bed, then he laughed. “It’s still running.”

  She remembered the phone. It had simply dropped out of her hand. Oh God, what had she said to Keith? What had she revealed when she didn’t know what she was saying? Rolling, she broke free and patted the bed until she found the phone buried in the wrinkled sheet.

  “Honey, are you still there?”

  “I want the video. Now.” Keith’s voice was harsh in her ear. “I damn near came just listening.”

  She laughed, noting the nervousness in her slightly off-key tone. “Let’s save it for when I get back. Just like you said.”

  Behind her, Spence climbed from the bed, probably to give her some privacy. When she heard the water running, she realized he’d needed to get rid of the condom.

  “You are one crazy little slut, sweetheart.” A lighter note had entered Keith’s voice. “I have to see this guy’s cock in action. It’s gotta be even bigger than it looks in that photo if he could make you come like that.”

  She tried to downplay. “It was the vibrator,” she explained. “He told me to use it.”

  “Just think, my very own porn film starring my slutty little wife.”

  They hadn’t talked quite like this before. Mostly their calls had been about what it felt like when men did things to her, and so that Keith could hear her come again over the phone. Spence’s conversation last night had started something new. It could be good for them. “Monday night, I’ll make you a nice dinner, then we’ll curl up on the couch and watch it together.”

  “I can’t wait. Love you.”

  “Love you, too,” she said softly. He was gone before she hit End.

  The truth was that nothing had ever felt like this with those other men. She felt more alive than ever before, her nerves twitching deliciously. This was feeling truly desired, truly enjoyed.

  The bed dipped. Spence rolled in beside her, wrapped an arm across her abdomen, pulled her close until his cock nestled between her cheeks.

  “He’s going to fuck your brains out after he watches that show,” he said against her ear, eradicating the last vestiges of Keith’s voice in her head.

  “No. Probably not.”

  “Isn’t that the point? To make him go wild?”

  “Yes, but…” She shouldn’t discuss her marriage with him.

  “If it were me, I’d want to fuck you while I watched you on the screen.”

  Her soul preened with his words. Oh yes, this man made her feel desired, wanted, special. Keith called him cocky, but whatever he was, Spence understood the words she needed.

  But Keith had never tried to make love to her when he looked at the pictures. He never would. She could only hope the video, which was far from static, would inspire something. Maybe he’d ask her to stroke him. Or better, suck him. Still, the best she could hope for was that he wouldn’t take the disk into his office and watch it alone on his computer.

  “We’ve been married a long time,” she said, knowing she should shut up but needing to explain anyway. “He’s fifteen years older than me. Things just don’t work the same way they used to. So”—she shrugged against him—“he’s not going to do what you would.”

  “How old were you when you got married?”

  “Twenty-four.” Keith had been thirty-nine.

  “Hmm.” It wasn’t an answer, just a sound.

  “It’s not what you think. I wasn’t a home wrecker or anything. He was already divorcing his wife before I started dating him.”

  “
I wasn’t making a judgment,” he answered softly.

  “Yes, well, some people do.”

  “His kids and his ex-wife?” Spence asked intuitively.

  Fourteen at the time, Keith’s son, Jerry, had never believed they weren’t having an affair. “Yes. I was Keith’s secretary.”

  “Ergo, you were fucking him and broke up the marriage.”

  “I wasn’t and I didn’t.” But Jerry had always blamed her. “His daughter didn’t react the same.” She smiled. “Alison and I are actually pretty good friends. She’s pregnant with her first baby and due in January.” His hand moved against her belly, and she nestled closer. It was an utterly sweet sensation that made her want to purr. “It’s almost as if it’s my first grandchild.”

  He chuckled against her hair. “Sorry, but I can’t think of you as a grandmother.”

  She smiled. “A grandmother certainly wouldn’t do what I just did.”

  He nipped the crook of her neck. “You’d be surprised. But I still think you’re more a MILF than a GILF.”

  She laughed at his play on the acronym, grandmothers-I’d-like-to-fuck instead of mothers. “I’m not a MILF either.”

  “I still liked fucking you. Why no kids of your own?”

  She shrugged against him. “Keith already had a family. And really, I wanted a career.” When she was young, she’d thought about kids. For a while, she’d ached for her own child, but she and Keith had built a good life, she liked her job and her independence, and she’d come to terms with the choices she’d made. She and Alison were close, and with Alison’s pregnancy, she’d get all those baby needs filled. But enough about her. “What about you? Any kids?”

  “Never married,” he said with clipped words.

  “How old are you?”

  “Forty-five.”

  “Hmm,” she mused just as he had. “Never even thought about it?”

  “There was a girl once. We were young.” He was silent a long moment. “She died.”