The Making of a Hotwife

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by Lissy Bergman




  The Making of a Hotwife

  Volume 2

  Lissy Bergman

  Copyright © 2015 Lissy Bergman

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without prior permission of the publisher and author.

  ISBN: 1511990678

  ISBN-13: 978-1511990677

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  DEDICATION

  The Making of a Hotwife

  DEDICATION

  This series is dedicated to my husband – my best friend and lover.

  The Making of a Hotwife

  Volume 2

  Pierre, Monica, and I left the playroom, walked out onto the patio and woke up Chris and Tatiana to the tune of “Happy Birthday.” The first thing I noticed was that he was lying on one of the sun loungers still completely naked.

  The second thing I noticed was that his ass cheeks had burned slightly in the hot afternoon sun and looked tender. The last thing I noticed was his limp, drained cock lying between his legs. He sat up on the side, away from us but facing Tatiana who was slowly waking up on the lounge chair next to his.

  She was also naked and despite Chris’s bleariness, he couldn’t help but get slightly aroused by the sight of the hot, young body he’d just had. She stretched out and faced us with a smile. Pierre threw Chris a robe and he quickly slipped it on and joined in the final words of the song.

  I had already put my skimpy bathing suit back on as well, but Monica was now dressed in a slutty French maid’s costume and was carrying a chocolate cake with nineteen candles on it. Chris watched Monica as she leaned over to put it on the picnic table; he noticed that she wasn't wearing anything under her skirt.

  She had on black high heels, a small hat on her dark hair, a nearly gossamer silver skirt, and a white blouse. On her hands were short, white, lacey gloves, and peeking out from under her skirt were garters holding up black, silk stockings.

  The stockings ended, though, about ten inches above her knees and from there up it was nothing but smooth, tanned skin. She looked both sexy and slutty, and he hoped that in the future I would be wearing something similar in front of our guests.

  Chris glanced over at Pierre and realized he had been caught perving on another man’s wife and looked away quickly, slightly embarrassed. Pierre walked over to him and they began to talk. He told Chris that he needn’t feel embarrassed about enjoying Monica because she was a “hot wife”.

  Pierre enjoyed sharing her, and he wanted her to give and receive pleasure from other men. He smiled then said, “What could be wrong with having a horny wife?” before adding that they should talk more about this later.

  Tatiana looked slightly embarrassed at all the fuss being made over her, but came over to the table, closed her eyes for a moment, and then blew out all the candles. Chris, wearing a robe also, came over and gave her a warm, intimate hug. We all joined in and had a group hug.

  “Thank you,” Tatiana said after we had released her from the hug. “This has been my best birthday ever.”

  Her beautiful, green eyes were damp at the corners. Pierre slipped back into the condo for a few minutes and then came back with his arms full of gifts.

  I leaned over to Monica, seated next to me at the picnic table, and whispered, “I wish we had known this was a birthday party. We’d have brought a gift,” to which Monica replied, “Please don't worry about it. You were the present.”

  She leaned over and gave me a little peck on the cheek and a wink, and I smiled in spite of myself.

  Pierre insisted that Tatiana open the biggest box first, and when she did, she pulled out a silk dress the same deep green color as her shining eyes. “Oh, Cousin Pierre! It’s beautiful! May I go and put it on now?”

  He nodded and she hurried inside, her perky breasts bouncing with every step. Monica began cutting the cake and passing it out to us. Moments later, Tatiana returned and it was obvious to all of us that her petite figure did the dress justice.

  “This will look great tonight, thank you both!” and she hugged them both. She then began opening the rest of the gifts, unwrapping spike heeled black shoes, black lacy lingerie, gold hoop earrings, and a matching hair slide.

  As she opened the final gift, a mischievous grin appeared on her face. In her hands she held up a large princess plug adorned with a large emerald-green stone. Pierre moved towards her and took the plug from her hands.

  He moistened it between his lips then asked her to bend over and grab her ankles. As she bent over, we all took in her beautiful pussy and asshole and I admired her ease with her body. Pierre easily inserted the plug then stepped back so we could all admire the erotic sight in front of us.

  A small moan had escaped her throat as he inserted it deep inside her ass but there was no doubt she was enjoying the sensation. She looked like a sexy princess, and the sunlight caught the jewel, casting a sparkling light over us.

  As I looked on, I could only imagine what it might feel like to be at a nightclub, dancing and grinding, knowing the dirty little secret was you had a titanium princess plug inserted inside your ass.

  I was sure that Tatiana was going to have fun at the club that night and I had to admit I was a little envious. I dragged my eyes away from the glistening plug and met Pierre’s. For the second time I saw a small smile play at the corners of his mouth, as if he sensed my arousal.

  I felt my stomach contract from desire; a thread connected everything in my pussy, a thread he was slowly pulling, drawing me more and more into his orbit.

  He leaned over and whispered, “You know slut is an anagram of lust.”

  I felt that familiar tingling feeling start in the base of my spine. His breath was right next to my ear. His voice was low and smooth and no one could hear him but me. Somehow, there was an undertone, but I couldn’t identify it. Wanting? Appreciating? Demanding? The hair on the back of my neck stood up, I was hungry for him, afraid, willing, and a bit ashamed but ready.

  My heart increased pace again and I felt his body lightly touch mine when he moved forward. The heat lingered on my skin, almost burning and I wanted him, badly.

  Tatiana straightened up then pulled her hair to one side and put the gold comb in place to hold it there. She added the gold hoop earrings and then began to take on a more sophisticated look for a teenager.

  We chatted for a few minutes and then Tatiana excused herself to go and finish getting ready for her night out. Monica told us, “She’s made some friends here her own age and they are taking her to a club to celebrate her birthday. I want to thank you two for helping us celebrate with her here today. This is the first time in the entire year we've been having her at our place that we’ve shared her with anyone. We just knew that the two of you were special, and I think it has been a great day for her.”

  Chris answered, “It may have been her birthday, but I think both Megan and I are the ones who had the special day.” Almost embarrassedly, he added, “We’re glad to have met such friendly neighbors as you and Pierre. “If Tatiana is going out tonight,” continued Chris, “would you two like to go out for dinner with us? Our treat.”

  We made plans to meet and go out a little later that evening. Tatiana came back out while we were making our plans, ready for a night on the town. Her makeup highlighted her cheeks, giving her again the look of a Victoria Secrets model.

  The green, silk dress hugged her lithe body with tantalizing tightness. Her tanned legs covered in stockings with black stripes down the back, and they ended in small feet nestled into her matching black, spike heeled shoes.

  She gave
each of us a quick kiss, flashed her princess plug and was off for the night. We then finished our planning and Chris and I gathered our belongings and said our goodbyes.

  * * *

  Back in our own condo, surrounded by unpacked boxes, Chris decided that our new place would have to wait a bit longer to be put in order. He decided it was time for us to have a chat about what had just happened.

  I was still wearing my thong bikini and he caught my eye and gave me a smile. I smiled back, slipped out of my suit, and walked over into his waiting arms. We lay on the bed cuddling, and I felt closer to him than ever.

  As we lay entwined, Chris told me about Pierre’s confession that Monica was a “hot wife.” “What’s a hot wife?” I asked. I didn’t know it at the time but that question was to change everything.

  He told me that a “hot wife” was a married woman whose husband encouraged her to enjoy the carnal pleasures of other guys. The idea shocked me, “Why would a man want his wife to fuck someone else? I struggled to come to grips with this.

  For Chris, this was his breakthrough moment, one he had been fantasizing about for many years, and in his excitement and nervousness, he didn’t want to fuck it up. He took a deep breath, looked me in the eye, and began to talk... to really talk about his desires. He said he wanted me to know him and really see him for who he really was.

  “I want to see you fuck other guys because I’m voyeuristic by nature. I like porn. Most guys do,” he added. “...And what’s hotter than watching porn? - watching your real life wife, having real life sex, in front of you, of course!”

  I thought about what he had just said, and had to admit that I’d been very turned on by the voyeuristic aspects of the previous night’s adventures. He continued, “I want to watch a live sex show starring you - the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  He paused, took another deep breath, and moved his hand down towards my pussy. He started to masturbate me while he continued. “I want you to feel beautiful and sexy, having other men actively pursuing you and fucking you will do amazing things for your libido and self-esteem.”

  There! He had said it, he had finally voiced these desires that he had buried for years. It was a relief for him and he exhaled deeply. He lay there, nervously awaiting my response.

  As I lay there listening to him I began to think about the pleasure that I’d both received and given last night. Chris slid his other hand down my body, then further down to my pussy and began circling my clit slowly with his finger.

  He told me how at first he had been jealous when he’d walked into the kitchen and saw Pierre standing behind me, with his huge cock rubbing against my exposed pussy. However, the jealousy had quickly given way to arousal and that he had longed to see another man inside me.

  I, too, confessed that I’d enjoyed the feeling of another man inside me. I told him how sexy, beautiful, and powerful I’d felt as I opened up and took all of him. I asked him if what I’d done last night made me a hot wife.

  He laughed and kissed my forehead. “No honey, last night was wife swapping and swinging.”

  I thought about the things I had with Monica and briefly wondered if I was bi-sexual. As much as I’d enjoyed playing with Monica and Tatiana, deep down I knew that my greatest pleasure had been taking Pierre’s cock.

  I was fascinated by his size, and about how hard I’d had to work to accommodate him. I also told him how much I’d enjoyed being desired and fucked by another man, a man much bigger than him.

  “I still love you very much Chris,” I said “but something has changed. I couldn’t articulate exactly what had changed, but something inside me had. I then told him about my Rati Indian goddess of desire scene with Pierre and Monica, and he told me of his embarrassment at walking around the patio in the buff, and of his experience with Tatiana out there.

  He also confessed that he’d never felt so sexually attracted to me, and then he told me how much he loved me. He told me how beautiful my pussy was, and then he said, “I want to watch other guys fuck your beautiful pussy.”

  We then made love with the same degree of passion, intensity, and hunger for each other that we’d had for each other on our wedding night, just over three years ago.

  As we lay post coital, Chris asked me to become a “hot wife,” and I agreed. We held each other close, basking in the closeness of sharing some of our deepest thoughts and feelings. We really thought we had it all worked out, we thought we knew what we were doing, but we were wrong.

  We hadn’t even begun to really understand the impact our “lifestyle choice” was to have on our relationship. In hindsight, this was when we should’ve discussed our “rules of engagement”. But, we didn’t, we were too excited about the new energy that was entering our relationship and lives.

  * * *

  Finally, we decided we had better get dressed for the evening. Chris found some cargo pants and a linen shirt with loafers, and I put on a pair of calf-length faux leather leggings and a sheer but elegant cream blouse.

  I had decided to wear nothing else under either. The leggings were a pair I had bought that morning, and they were hugging me to the point that they showed a camel toe and my ass crack. We went out to the pool and met Monica, who told them that Pierre was bringing the car around.

  Monica looked very sexy in a black leather skirt, no stockings, and a bare midriff top. She had styled her hair so that it had lots of body. She had also added some kohl around her dark eyes, giving them almost an oriental look that was very exotic.

  Chris took in the smooth swell of her breasts beneath her shirt and it reminded him of the delights hidden beneath that he had so recently experienced. I recalled my time in the play room that afternoon and found myself wishing to be back there with her and Pierre.

  A black Audi Q7 pulled up at the open end of the pool where the parking lot came closest and honked its horn. We got in, and roared away.

  “Where’re we heading?” Chris asked Pierre.

  “Montmartre Restaurant. A friend of mine by the name of Laurent owns it, and they have great French food there. Anyone hungry?”

  We all responded enthusiastically. Chris and I held hands in the back of the car as though we were back in our younger years double dating. The car was a stick shift and Pierre had it humming and purring around the corners and over the hills.

  I noticed that Monica had reached over and was handling Pierre's shaft and he was struggling to drive. We arrived, nevertheless, safely and all headed into an attractive looking French bistro. We were quickly shown over to a table near the back of the restaurant.

  The decor of the place had a smoky, jazzy vibe and the tables had floor length tablecloths, a candle inside a fancy glass holder, and linen napkins. We all ordered our meals and then started talking.

  The guys continually found themselves glancing at a TV screen in the distance which was showing European Erotic Films and got into discussing the intricacies of art vs. porn. At one point, though Monica leaned over and whispered something into my ear, I nodded and smiled.

  Monica turned to look at the TV screen behind her and accidentally knocked her evening purse onto the floor. She leaned over to pick it back up, and disappeared. Then my evening purse “accidentally” fell to the floor and I too disappeared.

  Chris heard giggling from under the table and something about “let’s see them watch TV now...” Then he felt hands pulling his legs apart.

  “They wouldn’t!” he thought to himself, but then he felt his zip being lowered and knew that we would.

  Monica’s hand reached down into his trousers, and released his quickly engorging shaft. Looking across the table told him that a similar fate was transpiring with Pierre as well. The tablecloth covered him from the waist down, so he leaned back in the chair and submitted to the pleasure from his mystery woman beneath the table.

  Then he felt a hot, wet tongue licking his cock like an ice cream. Long, wet strokes starting from the base of his shaft, and ending right at the tip of his
glans. Chris clenched the table with one hand to hold himself still during this erotic adventure.

  The licks were getting harder, as was his cock, and then a moist mouth wrapped firmly around his cock. He took his other hand and grabbed the table. The mouth, lips, and tongue began moving up and down, sucking as it went.

  Chris saw that Pierre was leaning back, his eyes closed, arms locked behind his head, looking very relaxed and content. Out of curiosity, Chris let go of the table with one hand and lifted the cloth just a bit.

  The dark head of hair near his crotch told him that the two wives swapped. Monica was giving Chris a delicious blowjob, and I was doing the same to Pierre, right there in the middle of the restaurant.

  The idea of it sent shivers of added excitement up his spine just as Monica’s oral performance was sending shivers of pleasure up his cock. She knew her stuff, and he could tell she was an experienced cocksucker for she was able to begin getting him really worked up, but then would slow down the pace and ease off the pressure.

  However, eventually he felt that he was going to reach a point of no return. Pierre was now leaning over and gripping the sides of the table as well. Chris grinned across the table at him and suggested, “How about an arm wrestling match?” hoping that that would give him some cover for the groans that kept escaping his lips.

  “Good thinking!” Pierre replied quickly.

  They locked arms across the table and began grunting and groaning in an apparent standoff. Other customers of the restaurant who were standing and watching the TV noticed the struggle and began gathering around their table.

  “Just what we need,” grinned Chris, “spectators.”

  Under the table, I heard people starting to cheer for the guys, but figured that it was something to do with the movie on the TV screen. I figured that as the noise increased I would be able to bring Pierre to his climax without causing too much attention.

  I broke away from my oral duties and whispered to Monica, “first one to get him off wins,” and turned back to what I had been doing.

 

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