Hot Dates 2: Living as a Shared Wife

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Hot Dates 2: Living as a Shared Wife Page 4

by McCurran, Kirsten


  I finished on the floor. Maggie never let me come in her mouth. I fell back, satisfied, and he realized he had her all to himself. Again, Maggie didn’t resist and soon I was watching her hook up with my friend. At first, I was nauseous and jealous, but then I realized how turned on I was. I’d just come, but I was hard again. I started playing with myself. Those two paid no attention to me. He was drunk enough that he didn’t care my cock had just been in her mouth and they made out like longtime lovers. Watching her like that made Maggie a goddess in my eyes. Hearing her moan while he fingered her made my body strum like a guitar string. I was frozen to the spot because I had no way to process what I felt. He tried to push Maggie’s face toward his cock, and I think I would have come again right there if she’d gone down on him, but that was too far for her. Instead, she jerked him off and he came all over her tits. I only just managed to stop short of coming myself.

  It was very awkward and he just pulled up his pants and got out of there. Maggie couldn’t look me in the eyes, and I didn’t know what to say to her. I took her straight home afterward and we never spoke of that night. Maggie wanted to pretend it never happened, and I followed her lead. I knew she was ashamed of what she’d done, and that shame burned into me. I felt like a freak for getting off while another guy got it on with my girlfriend. But ashamed as I was, every time I thought about that night—and I recalled every second vividly—my cock sprang to life. I knew I would have to milk that memory forever because I couldn’t think of any way to make it happen again. I met Dana in college a few years later and never even considered bringing my fantasy up—even though images of her with other men occasionally flashed across my brain.

  Dana and I married and I mostly pushed the fantasy to the back burner. I got enough stimulation from seeing guys salivate over her when we went out to bars or on the beach. And we were always busy having fun in those years before the kids came. I loved Dana with all my heart and it didn’t matter that my twisted fantasy wasn’t going to happen. But then I got another taste.

  We were spending the weekend with another couple up in the mountains and one night things just happened. I realize now that our friends, Shane and Lisa, were looking for some kind of hook up, but Dana and I could not have been more clueless. We were all sitting around and drinking when things turned flirty and dirty, like they often did. I think I caught on sooner than my wife and I started playing along. I didn’t know exactly what was going to happen, but my brain was buzzing and I knew it was going to be hot. Somehow Dana and Lisa ended up massaging each other—I don’t remember those details—and one thing led to another. Watching the girls hook up together was hot. I was as hard as I’d been years before when I watched Maggie. But it didn’t carry the same sense of danger. I think that danger—imagined or not—is key to the excitement for me. Shane was not content to watch—as I was—and he slid right in there with our girls. Now things were getting interesting.

  I know they all expected me to join in like Shane, but I was perfectly content where I was. I wanted to watch my own personal sex show. When Shane started touching Dana there it was, that old sick/jealous/aroused feeling. It was just different than seeing my wife with Lisa. I thought I’d never really feel it again, but there it was and I welcomed it back like an old friend. Shane and Lisa pleasured my wife like she was their own sex toy. Dana went down on Lisa, and then the couple shared her. Shane ate her pussy and she screamed as she came. I thought I was going to pass out from the rush. And then the girls took turns going down on Shane. Seeing Dana suck another man’s cock—even if she was sharing it—blew my mind. None of my fantasies had prepared me for how hot it was. There she was, sucking his cock like it was all she ever wanted. Dana was handing me my hottest fantasy and didn’t even know it!

  Shane came all over my wife and Lisa licked it off of her. I knew I had to be in a dream. I dragged Dana from that room and fucked her like a madman. It was fucking, not making love. Dana—sharp as ever—realized how much watching had turned me on and fed into that while we screwed. She is the best. Nothing throws her. I came quickly, but she didn’t mind.

  Dana was not Maggie and she did want to talk about it. She totally got that I was into watching her and Lisa, but I could tell she was surprised I didn’t mind seeing her with Shane. I don’t think she understood that was what really turned me on. I could see Dana couldn’t wrap her head around that and I retreated from a full confession. I felt like a coward, but I didn’t want her to think I was some kind of freak.

  We never had a repeat of that night with Shane and Lisa and it would be years before I fully confessed to my wife. I tried to accept it would never happen again, like I had before, but it was harder this time. I’d seen Dana sucking another guy’s cock. I’d seen another man make her come. I couldn’t forget that. It was a memory I could recall in vivid detail anytime I wanted—and I did it often.

  The kids came and we became parents as much as man and wife, but the desire never left me. We didn’t go out as often, of course, but when we did I made sure Dana was as sexy as possible and I reveled in the looks she’d get from other men. She told me she would dress up for me, because she knew how much I liked it, but I saw a spark in her. I knew she liked the attention as much as I like seeing her get it. If only there was a way to take it to the next level. Sometimes I’d excuse myself to the bathroom and take my time coming back, knowing that if I left Dana alone at a bar she would be hit on. We always fucked like rabbits when we came home from one of those date nights. And one of those nights, it all came out.

  Dana and I went out to dinner and then to see a cover band at a local bar. She wore a tight little tank dress that made her curves stand out. I pulled my old trick of leaving her alone at the bar, but this time I waited in the crowd longer than usual. I saw a big guy flirting with her and Dana seemed to be really into it. Something in her eyes made me hang back to see what would happen. He touched my wife, casually of course, and she touched back the way a woman does when she’s interested. But it didn’t go beyond that. Dana is not a cheater. I returned and she acted like nothing had happened. But when we got home that night we ended up fucking in the living room, as soon as the babysitter was out the door.

  She teased me with how men had been looking at her, the way she always did. Dana knew exactly what I liked. At least the tame version of it. But then she carried things further and told me about the guy in the bar and how she felt him getting hard when he pressed against her. It struck a chord. I couldn’t help myself. I asked if he was big, if she wanted to see it. She hesitated, then told me he felt big, but it was hard to tell through jeans. Was she trying to save my ego? She needn’t have bothered. I asked if she wanted to know how big it was. There was something in her voice that told me she’d crossed a personal line, but she kept going. Dana told me yes, she wanted to know. And then she asked that fateful question, Should I have gone with him? I couldn’t help answering truthfully. My mind had already raced ahead to what would happen next. I told her, yes!

  What followed was the most intense sex we’d ever had until then. It surpassed that night after her threesome with Shane and Lisa by a mile. While we fucked there in the living room, Dana teased me without holding back, like she was reading my mind.

  “Do you want me to take it out for him?” she asked excitedly.

  “Yeah, grab it, hon,” I moaned.

  “Mmm, it’s even bigger than I thought. What should I do with it, Dave?”

  “You know what you want to do.”

  “What?” She was making me tell her.

  “Suck it, Dana. Suck his goddam dick,” I growled. There it was. I said it. It was out there. And amazingly, it didn’t stop my wife. She kept right on going.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s so wrong.”

  “God, Dana, do it. You know you want to,” I ordered. I could see it. I could see my sweet Dana in the front seat of some car, sucking off some strange man.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s so wro
ng,” she moaned.

  “God, Dana, do it. You know you want to.”

  I saw her excitement. I saw it wasn’t just for me. Dana was just as excited by this fantasy as I was. In that moment, she wanted to suck that guy’s cock. I held her and bounced her up and down on my cock.

  “I’m doing it, baby. I’m sucking him. It’s so good. Mmm, I don’t want to stop,” I cooed.

  “Don’t stop. Suck him. You’re so fucking hot right now, Dana. Suck it until he comes,” I demanded.

  “Mmm, I think he’s close. He’s holding my hair, forcing me down on it.”

  “Suck it! Suck it! Christ, Dana, don’t stop!”

  It was too much for me. Dana came a fraction of a second before I did. I came and it felt like I emptied out my entire being into her. I was a husk. I had been laid bare and all I could do was wait and see how she would react. It was one thing to go with it in the heat of the moment. How would my wife feel when she really thought about the implications of what we’d just fantasized together?

  Once we had both calmed down, Dana insisted on having a real conversation about my fantasies. I was initially defensive, and she had to drag it out of me, but finally, after nearly a decade and a half of marriage I confessed my deepest, darkest sexual fantasy to my wife. Dana did her best to temper her reaction, but I could tell she was shocked. She was in for another shock when she asked if it was something I actually wanted to do.

  Most of what I knew of this hot wife thing at the time was what I’d read in stories on the internet, and I told her that. I confessed it would be hot for me if she went out to a bar and let a guy pick her up and then they fooled around. I could see the wheels turning in her head. I knew with a little effort I would have Dana hooked. Over the next few weeks I sent her stories and played out the fantasy in the bedroom. Finally, Dana agreed she would give it a try, but made no promises anything would happen. She didn’t know if she could go through with it. That was the hottest thing I’d ever heard, and I told her so. Our next stop was the casino.

  I’d shared that whole story on the message board before, to many pats on the back and guys wishing they were me. I even shared a non-identifiable picture of Dana in lingerie and the guys went wild. It made me feel proud and juiced. The guys on the board were right. I did have the sexiest, coolest wife on the planet. Occasionally, I’d post an update about our adventures, but mostly I lurked on the board. I considered creating a new post about Dana having just gone out to meet her FB—that’s hot wife slang for fuck buddy, or the guy who’s screwing your wife on a regular basis—but I didn’t like sharing things like that in the moment. It brought me back to being just a little ashamed that I was sitting home while my wife was out fucking another guy. Instead, I shot a private message to a guy I’d exchanged a few prior messages with. I’d found him to be a good sounding board. He seemed realistic, not one of these guys who thinks you should make it happen at any cost.

  I set the laptop aside and scrolled through my ever-growing collection of Dana videos. I could have sat there and tried imagining what she might be up to with Zach, but why do that when I could just watch it? Instead of watching their last session, I jumped back to the one before. That was a particular favorite of mine because Zach had particularly rocked her world that night. They had been texting back and forth that night and I suggested she should go see him. Dana complained she was tired, but between Zach begging her by text and my nudging her, she finally relented and jumped in the shower. She didn’t dress up then, but looked hot in tight jeans and a snug t-shirt that hugged her tits.

  When the camera clicked on, it was obvious they’d gotten started before Dana could click record. They were in his living room and she walked away from the camera already missing her jeans and panties. I had a great view of her round, tight ass as she walked toward Zach, who sat on the couch. She went onto her knees in front of him and went right to work sucking his cock. My view wasn’t great for that, but I could see her still-damp ponytail bounce as her head bobbed up and down, and Zach stared down at my wife like he was in heaven. He tried to hold her ponytail, but she pushed his hand away. Dana was going at her own pace.

  “Oh my God, Dana,” he moaned. “I can’t believe you can take the whole thing.” I beamed with pride. That was my expert, cock sucking wife.

  Dana replied, but her words were muffled. I figured she was licking or kissing him down there, maybe even sucking his balls, because her face was still buried there. She started sucking again and this time she moved with purpose. Her head bobbed rapidly, like she was riding a piston. Zach tried to warn her, but Dana wanted his cum because she did not stop until he was shaking and thrusting up at her mouth.

  I could tell Zach came because his body went slack, but my wife stayed down there, sucking. She wanted him hard for another round. Watching Dana craving his cock like that, watching her seducing that younger man filled me with lust and I reached for the tissue box because I knew what came next. And I knew that watching Dana screaming on all-fours on his floor, begging to be fucked, was going to make me come—just like it did every time. Was that the moment when Zach formed his hold on her? Was that when she decided she needed his cock? I couldn’t help feeling that I was watching my wife form a bond with another man—something more than sex—and I was ashamed that I didn’t want to put a stop to it.

  four

  I had been on my feet all day and was glad the party was winding down. Not that I mind having the neighbors over—I love that we’re the neighborhood house for barbeques—but don’t love all the work that goes along with it. Jana, my best friend from up the street, is a godsend and a huge help, but I still feel all the pressure to make sure everyone has fun and is well fed. The thirty people or so that had been enjoying our house that hot summer day were a mix of neighbors and guys who work for Dave.

  Dave loves entertaining and showing off all his hard work. Over the years we’ve been in our house, he’s completely transformed it. The masterpiece is our backyard. It’s all centered around our pool, which is almost more of a winding, lazy river than a traditional pool. It’s fed at one end by a slate waterfall and flows past a swim-up bar. There’s a hot tub just beside the waterfall. Slate tiles flow out from the pool to several seating areas, a built-in grill and second wet bar, and a cozy fire pit. It’s the kind of backyard you see on television shows and it’s taken Dave ten years to perfect. And there is no way we could have afforded it if Dave hadn’t done all the work himself.

  My dear husband spent most of the afternoon manning the grill, serving up burgers, chicken, sausages and ribs. A couple times he got someone to spell him so he could enjoy a beer and chat, but I don’t think either of us so much as dipped a toe in the pool all day. I’d worn a swimsuit beneath my little floral sundress, but that was wishful thinking. I wasn’t going to feel the water until most of the guests were on their way.

  It was good to have a normal day with my family. I was beginning to feel like too much of our lives were revolving around our hot dates and their planning. I hadn’t done anything with any of that since I went over to Zach’s a few weeks ago. Zach and I still exchanged texts every day, and that was fun, but we hadn’t made any plans to get together. I sensed something strange from Dave when I came home the last time. I asked him about it, but he swore it was nothing. He had me thinking it was all in my head, which was possible.

  I really did like Zach—maybe a little too much. I tried telling myself it was crazy, but I thought I might be developing a crush on my boytoy. I looked forward to his first text of the day and I would start the shameless flirting if he didn’t do it first. But a lot of the time we just talked about our lives—at least as much of my life as I could share. I tried to keep Dani’s life as close to mine as possible, but a lot of the details were still made up. It probably wasn’t a good idea to become so attached to one other man, but it wasn’t causing any problems so I just rolled with it. Pursuing the online dating would have helped with that, but my enthusiasm just wasn’t there.
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br />   So it was nice to have a day where none of that existed, although it was never completely gone. Our secret life lurked there, just out of sight, like the phantom image on the periphery of your vision you’re not sure was there. In the past, it was innocent fun knowing the pleasure Dave took in it when I looked good. I hope it’s not too conceited to admit, but I know guys check me out. All women do, whether they admit it or not. It’s not like guys are exactly subtle. They think they are. When I lean forward I can tell your eyes immediately flick down to see if you can peek down my blouse. When I walk past you on the street or in the supermarket, I can just sense your head swiveling to check out my butt. I don’t mind it as long as you’re respectful and keep your rude comments to yourself. And I don’t think you do nice things for me just because I’m a nice person. I’ve always known my husband appreciates that extra attention I receive. He’s never been subtle about it either. He’s always encouraged short skirts that showed off my legs and tight, low cut tops. I could always see the way other men’s attention affected him. And if I brushed up against him, I could feel it too. I knew if we were out for an evening and I was looking particularly good I was in for an intense night of lovemaking when we got home. But then Dave told me of his forbidden fantasy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not just going along to make my husband happy. I get as much of a thrill out of it as he does, but now it colors all of those interactions that seemed harmless before.

  When I caught a couple of Dave’s workers checking out my tanned legs, I glanced over and saw my husband watching them watching me. Tension crackled through me and I couldn’t believe none of our friends noticed. I couldn’t help wondering, Is Dave picturing them ravaging me? When Jana’s husband, Neil, followed me into the kitchen to help me carry out more ice did my husband think we stopped in the pantry for a quickie? Jana is a beautiful, athletic blonde, but I know Neil checks me out—and Dave knows it too. I’m sure Jana’s even aware of it, but she doesn’t care. Jana is the least insecure woman I know. In the past I always considered Neil checking me out a silly thing, and thought it was cute that Dave got a charge out of it, but now when he spies Neil checking out my tits, is he thinking, I wish she’d pull Neil upstairs for a quick blowjob? Even if I was tempted, there are a myriad of reasons I would never do that.

 

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