The Wives of Beverly Row 1: Lust Has a New Address
Page 8
XVI
WHILE HANK ROYCROFT WAS SITTING on his bed looking at Veronica’s anus like it was a snake about to attack him, Trudy Luxton went out onto her porch and lit a cigarette. It was her secret vice, among a number of other secret vices she maintained. She sat back and inhaled the calming smoke, the vastness of Los Angeles sprawled out across the valley before her.
She’d just spent the last hour on the Internet chatting with a boy in Ohio who was literally young enough to be her son. He was a freshman at Ohio State and he had the biggest, fattest cock Trudy had ever seen on a webcam. She showed him her boobs and pussy and he’d masturbated and orgasmed on screen. As soon as he was done he’d logged off, leaving Trudy with a faint feeling that she’d been used. But she didn’t care. She was a single woman in the modern age and if she wanted to strip in the privacy of her own home for some boy half-way across the country, then that was her right. That was the marvel of the Internet. She sat on her chair and looked down at the sparkling lights of the valley, twinkling in the hazy heat, and drew deeply from her cigarette. That boy’s cock had been so big, and so much semen had squirted out of it. It made her feel good to bring a boy like that some happiness. At least, that was what she told herself.
*
NEXT DOOR, ZOLA MEDEIROS WAS sitting at her husband’s desk. He wouldn’t be home till late, if he came home at all. Zola had long gotten used to the fact that her husband’s business sometimes required him to sleep at the office. She was logged into his Facebook. Jake never logged out of anything, he never cleared his Internet history, and he used the same password for every website he had an account for. It meant Zola could check up on what he was doing online whenever she wanted to. Really, it was a curse because she obsessed about what he was doing and checked incessantly when he was out late.
The conversation she was reading was between Jake and some twenty-four-old dancer in the valley called Britney.
Britney: You married Mr. Medeiros?
Jake: I’m a lone wolf.
Britney: We should meet up then? My husband is so up for this it’s not even funny.
Jake: He’s a brave man.
Britney: He’s brave? I’m the one who’s the hotwife. I’m the one who gets fucked by complete strangers.
Jake: You’ve got nothing to be afraid of, Britney. I’ll be very gentle with you.
Britney: My husband says he likes you. We can meet at our house.
Jake: Text me the address. I can be there within the hour.
Britney: Hurry. We’re horny as fuck. Lol.
Zola logged out of Facebook and held her head in her hands. She started to cry and she just couldn’t stop. Once the tears started they just flowed and flowed like a river. She didn’t even know how Jake found these people. She hadn’t even heard of the term hotwife till she’d read it in his email. Apparently it was a big thing. She’d marriage a sex addict, a deviant, and she had no choice now but to live with that decision for the rest of her life.
*
AT THE SAME TIME, ARIEL was lying in her bed. She’d turned off the TV. She could hear Becky in the shower. She reached under her bed and grabbed her Silver Bullet, a discrete little vibrator she’d purchased on the Internet. She’d only used it once and had immediately felt ashamed for doing it. That had been almost two weeks before. Something about the air that night was making her horny and she was glad she hadn’t thrown the vibrator out.
Ariel still got embarrassed about masturbating, it was something she hadn’t done much of while she was married to Gabe. She’d always either been having hot sex with him, or was so mad that she couldn’t even think about sex. Now that she was divorced she’d rediscovered the convenience, the simple pleasure, of a tiny vibrator. She turned it on and placed it against her clit. She knew that just a few feet from where she lay, Becky was in the shower washing off the glow of her first ever kiss.
The vibrator felt so good against her clit and she began to move it back and forth over the folds of pink skin. Then she inserted it into her vagina and thought she’d cry out in pleasure. She was glad the bullet was so quiet. She’d have died if Becky ever heard her pleasuring herself.
While Ariel might have been embarrassed about masturbating, something she believed was for teenage boys more than women in their mid-thirties, she’d have been absolutely mortified if anyone had ever known who she was fantasizing about while she rubbed the buzzing little bullet against her clit. As she slid it farther into her wet cunt, the face that she pictured was not one of the husbands along the row, it was not Gabe or any other man she should have been fantasizing about, it was Kyle Roycroft, the teenage boy who’d just given her daughter her very first kiss!
She let the bullet buzz away in her pussy and then brought it back up to her clit. She was breathing heavily. She arched her back. The muscles in her feet and toes began to spasm. She was coming.
She thought about Kyle, all that muscle and tanned, boyish skin under his shirt. She thought what it would feel like to give him his first orgasm. She knew she was being weird. She felt guilty and deliciously naughty at the same time. As she orgasmed she whispered his name, she moaned it, so quietly, so softly, under the covers.
What’s wrong with me? she thought, immediately after orgasming. I’m a disgrace!
*
AND A FEW FEET AWAY, in her private bathroom, Becky was washing away the musky aroma that Kyle had created when he put his finger inside her pussy. She stepped out of the shower and opened the window. She needed the air. There was something about the heat of that night. Something was in the air. She looked at herself one last time in the mirror before shutting off the light and going to bed. She looked at her newly shaved pussy. If this doesn’t give him a thrill, she thought, thinking about showing it to Kyle, I don’t know what will.
*
“YOU READY, HONEY?” HANK SAID, pouring a dab of moisturizing lotion onto the palm of his hand.
He had literally no idea how he was going to proceed. He held his hand over Veronica’s butt and let the lotion drip onto the crack of her ass, her pink little anus staring at him, challenging him with its tightness and elastic muscle. He eyed it like it was his enemy. He had no idea what he was doing and Veronica could sense his unease. She kept her eyes closed. She was mortified. This was what her life had become. This was what happened to women in their forties who married accountants for money and slowly let the beauty and life of their youth fade. This was what settling for security and comfort felt like.
“I’m ready, Hank,” she said, swaying her ass slightly in front of him. “Take me.”
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Thank you for reading The Wives of Beverly Row. It is an exciting and realistic exploration of the sexual lives of a group of Californian women. I hope you stay with me as I continue to explore the kinks and lusts that fuel the fantasies of the women in this series.
You can email me at abby@type-writer.net. Send me a link to your review and I will send you the next book in this series for free.
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I look forward to hearing from you.
Abby Weeks
2014
Continue the Series
The Wives of Beverly Row 2
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