Swap Meets (Volume 2): A 13 Book Excite Spice Hotwife Erotica MEGA Bundle (Excite Spice Boxed Sets)

by Selena Kitt

  She shouldn’t need those fantasies though. She should be content with just Richard. Sure, she wanted more, but she could live with what she had. If she had to. She could still be aroused, she could still get into it.

  Why did it feel like she was trying to talk herself into believing something?

  Melissa thought back to her conversation with Julie, about how everyone had fantasies. They had been talking about Melissa, but it probably applied to Richard just as well. She sighed. “Maybe you shouldn’t fight it,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe it’s just a phase. Or maybe it’s what you need right now. I was worried you were cheating. I know, that was foolish. I still want you to be excited by me. But this fantasy of yours, it’s pretty harmless. I have to admit, it still makes me feel a little insecure, that you need to think of something like that to get turned on with me. That I can’t do it for you by myself.”

  Richard turned to her. “But I am thinking of you. I’m not thinking of some other woman. Just you.”

  “Me with another man.”

  “It’s still you, isn’t it? Would you rather me be thinking of another woman?”

  He had her there. That would seem more—what, normal?—but it would certainly be worse. And in her fantasies she had been thinking about other men, about Marcus. . .

  Fair is fair, she thought.

  “I’m willing to do whatever you want,” she said, letting it go, at least for now. “Tell me what you were thinking about.”

  Now Richard hesitated. “Are you sure? I was trying to get it out of my mind.”

  “And how was that working for you?”

  He laughed. “Not very well. It’s hard to not think of something.”

  “Then tell me.” Melissa squeezed in close to him again.

  “Okay.” There was a silence, as if he was deciding how much to tell, or gathering his thoughts. “I think about you with another man. Not only doing it with him, but I’m there. Watching.”

  Now that was something she hadn’t considered. “I don’t think I could do that.”

  “I’m not sure I could either. Or I’d want you to. But it’s a fantasy, right? Talking about it is not the same as doing it.”

  Melissa gave a little laugh. “I think I’d be nervous if you were there.”

  “Even if I was getting excited?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, how about this? Maybe instead of me being there, you tell me what happened.”

  “You mean, I have sex with another man, and then tell you about it later?”

  “Yes.”

  Melissa frowned; she really was trying to picture it. “Just find some guy and have sex with him?”

  “Maybe not all at once. It starts slow. Maybe you just lead someone on first, then later tell me about how it happened. In fact, you could actually do it, not just make it up, but actually flirt for real. I’m sure a lot of women do, just flirting. I bet just you doing that, and telling me about it, would get me aroused.”

  Melissa felt his breathing quicken, his voice pick up in intensity. She dropped her hand between his legs again and could feel him stir.

  “I see that,” she said. “But I’m not sure if I’d feel comfortable doing that, leading someone on.” Yet that’s exactly what she herself had been fantasizing about just a few days ago. “Who do you imagine I’m doing it with?”

  “Anyone. Someone at work. The guys you met at the club. The college boys, you called them.”

  “I told you, they were just kids. They’d probably have no idea what to do.” But she thought about Marcus; when she had been with him he had been no older than those college boys, and he certainly had already known a lot of what to do. She could only imagine what Marcus could do now. . .

  “But think of their stamina,” said Richard.

  Melissa felt him harden, wondering if he was thinking of her with the two young jocks. It was an interesting thought, two men, virile, obviously wanting her, no matter what she had said it was obvious to her now that they did, it would be so easy.

  She pictured them fumbling over her, good looking in a catalog model kind of way, maybe a little drunk, it made her think of her crazy college days, not as much fun looking back.

  “I’m not sure that does it for me,” she said. “Too young.”

  “How about the biker?” asked Richard.

  She hesitated. “Vern?”

  He tensed. “You know his name?”

  Melissa knew this was the risk in this game, that the fantasy could easily slip to insecurity, to suspicion. How could she keep Richard going without breaking the mood? “I heard someone mention it at the pool.” She shifted her tone to one of playfulness. “Or maybe you’d rather think that I had been checking into him?”

  Melissa felt his cock stiffen. “Why would you do that?” he asked, but now he seemed back into it.

  Melissa moved her lips close to his ear, her voice a whisper. “If I’m going to fuck him I need to know where to find him, don’t I?”

  Richard groaned. “Is that what you want to do, fuck him?”

  His words surprised her, she rarely heard him talk like that. “Is that the kind of thing you think about? Is that what you want?”

  He grabbed her hand, shoving it down on his engorged cock. “Yes,” he said, his voice shaking, breathless. “I want to see him inside you, fucking you.”

  Melissa reached inside Richard’s shorts, wrapping her fingers around his erection, stroking him. In his ear she whispered, “I’d want to suck on him first.” She pivoted onto her knees, pulling his shorts down in one motion, her mouth enveloping him.

  Melissa closed her eyes, and as she began to work her magic she let her mind slip away, caught up in it all, the biker on her mind, put there by Richard, but she didn’t fight it. She imagined it was Vern’s cock in her mouth, his hands roughly pushing her down onto him.

  If Richard could have his fantasy, so could she. Her fantasy about Vern, or Marcus. Her fantasy about one man, giving it all to her, giving her love and safety and protection and support and unbelievable, insane sex.

  Maybe Julie was right after all. What could be wrong with a little fantasy? Or even a big one?

  Her eyes still closed, she shimmied up onto him, guiding him into her. She needed this, she needed a cock inside her.

  She rode him hard; but if this were Vern he’d be on top. She imagined Vern below her, letting her get started, and any minute he’d flip her over, having his way with her. Just the thought of it drove her crazy, she leaned forward, using his shaft to drive up and down on her clit.

  For this moment, it was all coming together, a man inside her, a different man in her head. If this is what it took to satisfy each of them, maybe things weren’t so bad.

  Melissa felt Richard stiffen, he was close, she was doing it for him, this was her doing, it didn’t matter he was in a fantasy, he was thinking of her. That’s all that mattered.

  She had her husband back.

  Or did she? Because it wasn’t Richard she was thinking about as he started to cum inside her, it was Vern, it was Vern’s cum shooting into her pussy, and he knew she was married and didn’t care.

  And in that instant, neither did she.

  Chapter 12

  Wednesday. Melissa usually tried to work at home one day during the week, she often got more done without the constant interruptions in the office. She rushed through her emails, made a few calls, then settled in to start a new presentation.

  A hour into it, she had accomplished nothing. Her mind kept slipping to the night before, to everything going on with Richard. She should have been on cloud nine. The one thing she had been complaining about, the one thing keeping her marriage from being perfect, had been the lack of sex. Yet she’d had more sex in the last few weeks than she’d had in months.

  So why wasn’t she happy?

  Was it simply that Richard seemed to need a fantasy to get aroused? She suspected that a lot of men—and women
—fantasized about someone else when having sex. Maybe they just weren’t honest about it. Maybe if Richard had just kept his fantasies to himself.

  But that didn’t explain her excitement, why she was getting so aroused thinking about other men. To be fair, she had fantasized about Marcus before, even while with Richard. She had always rationalized that; she thought she was forced to do it because she wasn’t getting exactly what she wanted in her married sex.

  But that was crazy, a cheap rationalization. What she fantasized about was her decision, a conscious one. She should be able to just stop.

  What had Richard said? He couldn’t get it out of his head. Like right now, she couldn’t shake this line of thought.

  She pushed her laptop aside and decided to go for a run. That always helped. It would also give her a chance to explore the neighborhood some more, get to know her way around. She pulled on an old pair of tights and a loose long sleeve tee shirt. She thought about swapping to a sports bra, decided it didn’t matter; she didn’t have enough on top to really jump around anyway. The bra she had on was fine. A little sweat wouldn’t kill it.

  She tied her hair back in a rough pony tail and slipped the house key into her pocket. It was cool as she jogged down the drive but the run would warm her up. Instead of heading the way she usually drove to work, she made her way deeper into the development. It was larger than she had thought, the housing styles changing as she ran. Melissa realized it was actually a series of developments, or perhaps one large community that had been built in different phases.

  Soon she had worked up quite a sweat. She felt better. This is what she needed, getting her body amped up, her endorphins flowing. Someone once said that exercise was better than sex. That certainly wasn’t true, or at least it wasn’t better than great sex. She wondered if whoever had said that about exercise had been in a marriage without great sex.

  Melissa let her mind drift as she ran. She needed to think it all through from scratch, not react to last night, but put it in perspective.

  Her life seemed to be at both a standstill and a changing point. On one hand it looked like things were changing; the new house, the new car, more money. But that was a mirage, everything was still the same, except she was just surrounded by different things. She still had Richard, and that was good. But nothing was changing there, there was no growing, no real passion. Is this the price she would have to pay for stability and possessions, to never feel true passion? Was love without passion really love?

  On the other hand, something had been rekindled in their love life at least. Richard’s newly found interest in sex, driven by his hard to fathom, but very real, fantasies about her with other men. Was that another price she would have to pay for better sex? Or was that a mirage too, just like the fantasies, never to turn into the reality of a deeper physical bond?

  At a cross street she hesitated, jogging in place. She had run farther than she had thought.

  She turned left, thinking she would turn left again at the next cross street, and start making her way back. Her tee shirt stuck to her skin and she was getting thirsty. But no cross street to the left appeared; she seemed to be on a long approach road to another development. Just as she was about to turn around she saw a sign that said, ‘The Oaks.’ Where had she heard that before?

  The developments seemed to go on forever. This one spread out off to the left, in the direction she wanted to go, so she jogged in through the gates. The entrance drive didn’t have a sidewalk and Melissa was forced to run in the street. But in the middle of the day not many cars were around, everyone was off at work.

  Where was she, exactly? She wasn’t sure. But she had a pretty good sense of direction and felt confident she could at least find the community center again. From there getting home would be easy.

  The community center. That’s where she had heard about this development. One of the college kids had mentioned it. What had he said?

  Vern. This is where Vern lived. The biker. The one who was—what had the kid said? Living with? Shacking up? No, that wasn’t it. He had said ‘banging.’ He had tried to stop himself, thinking Melissa would be upset. Vern was living around here with some woman. Melissa pictured a hot divorcee with platinum hair and silicone boobs, letting Vern live with her for free in exchange for a little time in the sack.

  Melissa had a sudden image of Vern with a woman on his bike, her arms wrapped around him, holding on for her life as he sped along the highway. The woman had no idea where he was taking her, she didn’t care, she was lost in the feeling, the wind, the leather, holding on, completely in his power. Melissa could hear the roar of the motorcycle. . .

  The roar of the motorcycle. Just ahead. Not in her fantasy, but right in front of her. Like a mirage in the desert, a sweltering vision forcing its way through the sweat in her eyes. There was a black motorcycle, a streamlined cruiser, pulling out of a driveway a few blocks ahead. It headed right for her.

  It couldn’t be, she thought.

  But it was. As soon as it turned out of the driveway, Melissa recognized him. She could tell even from this distance. His dark hair, something about the way he handled the bike.

  Her first thought was that she looked like shit, she didn’t want Vern to see her like this, her hair frizzy and pulled back, covered in sweat. She thought about turning the other way. About. . .

  How stupid. Vern had no idea who she was. Just some jogger. And why should she care what she looked like for him?

  But she turned her head away from the road as he approached. Melissa couldn’t know for sure that Vern was looking at her, but she could feel it, his eyes, just as she had at the pool, when she thought he was checking her out. When she had been hoping he was checking her out.

  There. He was passing her. She kept her eyes away, her heart pounding from more than just her run. Would he slow down as he went by?

  The bike roared past.

  Relief. And something else, just a tinge of regret.

  Not for him, she hadn’t even met him, hadn’t spoken to him. But for what he represented, something wild, something forbidden. Something rough and bad.

  She realized then, in the clarity of the moment, that this was what was missing from her life, the risk, the unknown. That is what really thrilled her, what had wound her up about some of the men in her past, about Marcus, about men she knew were no good for her. Or were not the kind of men she should be married to.

  Melissa laughed as she ran, this sudden inspiration both a sorrow and a joy, a sorrow for what she had given up, a joy for realizing how simple the explanation was, and how foolish it was to think she could have it all. Obviously you couldn’t have stability and danger, the good and the bad. And because it was impossible, it was not something to fret over.

  The motorcycle rumbled behind her. Melissa increased her pace, running away from all it represented, the past, the risks, the danger. Toward the stability of home. It would be so easy to see everything in a new light.

  The motorcycle idled, probably at the crossroad, humming behind her, in her past. Then the engine revved, but instead of the sound fading away it grew louder.

  He was coming back.

  It wasn’t going to be easy, after all.

  Chapter 13

  Melissa kept running, even faster now, forcing herself not to turn around. He probably just forgot something, she thought. She imagined him pissed, having to go back to the house, he wouldn’t be looking at her, he wouldn’t be staring at her ass in the tight runner’s shorts, he wouldn’t be coming for her.

  She moved to the side of the road, as far as she could go, expecting the bike to go zooming by. Instead it slowed, she couldn’t help but look now, it was right next to her, closer than it should have been.

  Vern stuck out his left leg, his boot sliding along the road, bringing him around in a turn. Melissa caught a glimpse of his face, locked on hers, not paying attention to where he was going, or so confident in his riding that he didn’t feel he had to. The bike was now coming at he
r, forcing her to slow, and Vern ran it right along the side of the road, so close Melissa thought he was going to run her down.

  She yelped, veering into the street, and Vern sliced past, but then was turning again, coming back from the other side. She stopped dead in her tracks, frozen, as he circled her three times, like a pack of wolves circling its prey, a pack of wolves all wrapped up in one man.

  Finally he stopped the bike in front of her, the engine a low growl, pent up, threatening. Melissa was breathing hard, and not from the run.

  Vern looked her unabashedly up and down, talking her in, like he was sizing up a piece of meat. She stared at him, not as defiantly as she wanted to, her fear still overriding her anger.