My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was at that moment that I noticed that Kathy had been moving her hand strangely under the table, and casting her eyes downward in furtive glances.
A text.
[Kathy]: this gay thanks him a hooked
I looked at the autocorrect garble for a moment with a furrowed brow.
Then I got it.
Oh.
I typed:
[Me]: He thinks ur a hooker?
I looked up, and Kathy turned slightly toward me, and gave a very perceptible nod. Then she cracked up a little, pretending (and not very gracefully) to sneeze into her fingers.
I stared.
The phone rumbled in my hand again.
[Kathy]: help hw do i get outing here
At this point in the story, I'm not going to come over as a very nice man.
The text Kathy had sent me, once deciphered, had sent my whole body into a testosterone-fueled craze. I felt like I could hear everything more crisply, even though my ears were ringing. I could hear my pulse in my ears. My stomach was doing somersaults. I felt like I was going to throw up, or explode, or some other equally violent thing.
In truth, I forgot the text that said “help” as fast as I read it.
This guy thinks I'm a hooker was lodged in the forefront of my mind.
[Me]: whys that
I watched as my wife stared at the text. Then she reached across the table and placed her fingers on the man's hand. She walked them up and down the back of his hand, and said something with her seductive smile on full wattage. Every single touch of her fingertips on his skin flicked at my heart.
Then she stood up, and walked toward the restroom.
The man took out his phone and began to engross himself with the screen.
I watched Kathy. She went right for the entrance to the restroom hallway, but then made a hard right toward the exit that led to the lobby.
I looked back at the crowd of VerdeCo guys. I held up a hand, in a gesture vaguely meant to look like “be right there.” Then I popped out of my seat to follow Kathy. I passed the guy she had ditched. He was still engrossed in his phone, but had looked up a few times to see if Kathy was returning.
Bad luck for him.
When I entered the lobby, Kathy was nowhere in sight. A delicious fear snaked through me. Maybe she had gone back to the bar, after all.
My phone buzzed.
[Kathy]: im going upstairs
I tucked my phone away and waited with impatience for the elevator.
*
Kathy opened the door for me. “Oh my god!” she said.
Her voice was odd. She was shocked, certainly. Relieved to get away from the man who had taken her as a prostitute, and overwhelmed.
But she was also...excited. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright and sexily dilated. She paced a little in front of me as I entered the room, waving her hands as though to rid herself of bad spirits. “I cannot even believe I just did that!”
Her mouth was turned up in a smile.
“Why did you think he...why did he think...why do you think he thought you were a hooker?” I bumbled.
She stopped in her tracks. Her eyes were wide with amazement. “Because he said...like, he just outright talked about...you know...” She took a breath to reorganize her wild thoughts. “He was like, 'so, what do you do?' and I said I was...I made something up, you know, marketing or something, and he goes like...” Kathy's voice dropped off. She covered her face, which was suddenly quite red. She shook her head furiously. “Oh I can't even tell you!”
I stepped closer to her. “No, tell me. I want to hear this.”
She let her hands drop. “He said...'no, I meant, 'what do you do.''” Kathy said this last bit in a low voice. Her “dirty-man” voice.
She looked at me.
Dear God, that wasn't the end of the story, was it?
“And then you said?” I prompted.
“I was like...okay, this is the part that...um...I got a little carried away. Or something. I just didn't want to...well, I was little shocked right? So I didn't know what he meant, really, or what, so I'm like...”
She covered her face again. She gave a wet snort into her hand and closed her eyes. “I don't know what came over me.”
Something quivered inside of me. Was my wife Kathy about to tell me she'd done something naughty?
“Tell me,” I pleaded.
Kathy smiled. “I'm like...” she paused for what seemed like an eternity, “'Well, that depends, on what you want me to do.'” Her voice was lower, huskier, as she said this. It was an imitation of sexiness, and it was very good. I had never heard it before.
I looked at her.
“You did not,” I said incredulously.
Kathy, still hiding her face, nodded.
“Kathy,” I said, my tone half-joking. “That's so...”
She reached out and grabbed my arm. “I was just having fun. And I expected him to like, laugh it off and say, I don't know...nothing, or something sort of joke-y. I don't know. But he says...” She took my arm in her hand and lowered her chin, and whispered: “He says...” She bit her lip.
I shivered with excitement.
“'I'm into anal. I know it's about twice the going rate,' and then, without even missing a beat, he's like, 'you have a room here or you need me to take care of that?' And then he starts talking about...I don't know, basketball or something.”
My jaw was open.
“So I went to the bathroom,” she said quickly.
She looked down at the dress. “I don't think this looks like a hooker outfit,” she said.
I bit my lip. “It's certainly fetching.”
She slapped me on the arm. Then she placed her hand on her forehead. “Oh, God. I can't believe that just happened.”
I gave a light laugh, and Kathy mirrored it.
There were a few beats of silence, while we looked at each other. A silence that was exciting again. The kind of moment that you lose after so many years of marriage, so many years of knowing that the other person is a sure thing, and that nothing interesting or new will happen when you decide to have sex. This isn't to say we didn't have a nice sex life – Kathy was hot, and she sometimes had a lot of wine and rode my cock with her huge tits bouncing in my face, which I would never complain about. But there was just no wondering anymore. No slice of the unknown to squeeze us from the inside out.
Until that moment.
In that moment there was something different in Kathy's eyes. A new interest, a little bit of mischief that I had never seen before.
So when we finally jumped toward each other, and she pressed her lips to mine and we started pulling away each other's clothes like teenagers, there was an element of new and different to her. To us.
I fumbled with the back of the dress, but wasn't able to get it off of her as urgently as I wanted to. I dipped my hands into the front and slid my fingers down to her nipples. My hand was tight against the fabric of the dress and I heard it tear as my hand dove further. When I found her nipples in the large silken pool of her aureole, they were already hardened into little balls. A shiver traveled from my fingertips through my torso, quivering all the way to the tip of my cock. I pushed the material of the dress away, hearing more tearing, and then a terrible rip as I liberated her huge tits.
Kathy's breasts are so huge they cannot form into any other shape but that of an incredibly large raindrop. The curve of them is unique, and never ceased to please my eye. Her aureole are large and light pink, smooth as glass, soft as silk. Her nipples harden into large, perfectly spherical balls.
I dipped my head to take the bud of her nipple into my mouth. With my lips caressing her areola, and my mouth enclosing her nipple, I ran my tongue lightly over the hardened marble. My cock throbbed when I felt her body ripple in pleasure. Gently, I bit into the pink ball, and she gasped and squirmed in my hands.
I pushed her back and onto the bed, then crawled on top of her to give her other nipple t
he same treatment. A slightly harder bite, the rough, rubbery material of her flesh indenting for my teeth. She gasped again.
I slid one hand down her torso as I sucked on her nipple. I found the edges of her conservative underwear – plain, boy-cut probably. Teasing her and myself, I ran my finger up and down the hem in the center of her legs, before I slipped my fingers in beneath her panties.
Her mound was soaked. Her downy pubic hair, a tangle of soft blonde curls, was dripping with her excitement. Probing further, with my mouth still locked on her left nipple, my fingers sank into the hot flesh of her hole, and her overflowing juices closed up and over my knuckles.
I released her nipple, gave the satin skin of her areola a teasing lick, and moved down to the center of her legs. I pulled her soaked panties away.
The sight of her light pink cunt, bursting open in wet excitement, nearly sent me over the edge. I couldn't even remember a time when my wife was this excited. And the idea that she might be this wet, this slick with arousal, because another man had made advances on her (I'm into anal. I know it's about twice the going rate) drove me wild.
Her tangy scent rose up from between her legs. I pulled her lips apart and pressed my thumb into the center of her swollen clit. She moaned and squirmed beneath my fingers. I lowered my head and dove in to her wet opening. The taste of her juices was unusually sweet, unusually honeyed. I ran my tongue over the smooth inner wall of her outer labia, which, like her aureola was smooth as glass. I felt her body begin to tremble, her legs taut with her excitement against my cheek. I darted my tongue at her clit, flicking the tip of it against the center bundle of nerves that seemed to be gushing out of her engorged button. I did this until her hips were undulating beneath me, and she was pressing herself up and into my face, begging for more. Finally, I sucked her entire clit inside my mouth, and her soaked pussy closed around my face and lips, hot and smooth. Her thighs pressed against my face, shaking with her impending orgasm. I looked up, hoping to meet her eyes, but her head was turned up toward the ceiling, and her breasts were bouncing with her heaving chest, her nipples pointed at the ceiling and rolling over her chest in her waves of excitement.
She began to breathe more heavily, and her stomach muscles tightened in waves as I ramped up the rhythmic lapping against her clit. “Oh god, oh, oh, oh,” she panted. Her moaning cries seemed to be as sex-soaked as her cunt; they sounded so much dirtier, so much wetter than ever before.
And then, I felt a burst of hot liquid against my chin and her clit pulsed under my tongue as she yelled and thrust her hips upward. She came hard, her cry of ecstasy cut off after a moment and her whole body rigid with her orgasm, silent and stiff, almost like a seizure, before she collapsed trembling on the bed.
I rose up. My cock was painfully erect now, dripping with precum. I dropped my hand to swipe up the bead of cum at the tip of my cock. I had no plan for it, I was almost hypnotized by it. I stared at it briefly, and at my cock, hovering engorged over Kathy's glistening cunt and sweat-covered body. I flitted through all of the dirty images my mind had generated – Kathy with the guy from the bar, with his cock in her ass while she moaned like she just had for me, Kathy with another man between her legs, tasting her sweet cunt. Another bead of cum oozed from my cock.
And then to my surprise, Kathy, who was never very big on oral sex or fluids, reached for the head of my cock, and used her forefinger to smear it over the glans. Her fingers played lightly on the bell of my dick, and my cock jerked around wildly in response.
Then she took my hand, and guided the finger with the pearl of precum on it to her mouth. Her lips closed around the tip of my finger, and she sucked it off.
I plunged my cock inside of her. She was so wet I glided into her as though she were butter. Her pussy clenched around my cock, and I felt he last tremors of her orgasm still pulsing around me.
I fucked her slowly. I was determined to make her come again, to feel her body shake all around me as I came. But too many dirty thoughts crowded my mind, and the sensation of her mouth on my finger lingered like a ghost. I thrust deep inside of her, digging my fingers beneath her ass and grasping her soft flesh to grind myself in deeper. And then I came, so hard I could not hold back a sharp yell or a string of expletives as I rammed my seed into her violently.
Then I collapsed on top of her for a moment, panting.
“That was really, really hot,” I said finally, rolling off of her after a few minutes.
Kathy dropped her hand onto her stomach and just smiled. She was still panting lightly. Then she gave a little laugh. “Maybe I should dress up like a hooker every now and then,” she said. “Keep the spice in our love life.”
I felt my stomach twist.
The idea appealed to me. The idea appealed to me greatly. But I couldn't tell if Kathy was just making a joke, or being sarcastic, or being serious. Her tone was strange, hard to read.
It wasn't as if I had never thought about these things before. The idea of Kathy flirting with other men, having an affair...these were little daydreams I indulged in and dismissed. They were the kind of thoughts that aroused me but which I tried to get out of my head as quickly as I could, maybe precisely for that reason. It made me uncomfortable, feeling my blood race and my cock harden while I let a razor-sharp thought like that flit through my mind.
I had certainly, up to that very moment, never even considered telling Kathy about these thoughts. Not in my wildest dreams. It wasn't like I'd imagined her reaction and decided against it. No. I simply had never even imagined letting her in on this dark corner of my mind.
She was looking at the ceiling, still with a faint smile on her lips. My heart began to race again. I almost felt like pinching myself to check on whether or not this was reality. My wife had just dressed up in a sexy dress and flirted with another man. Another man who took her for a prostitute. Another man who had actually proposed she have anal sex with him.
And if I was not terribly mistaken, she had been turned on by it all.
Had she? I remembered the sloshing juices of her wet pussy on my fingers. Surely I couldn't be mistaking something else for her arousal?
Something about it had turned her on.
Just thinking about the various moments from the evening was stirring me up again.
“Well, you sort of liked it, didn't you?” I said, and then I felt like kicking myself.
But Kathy didn't react at all the way I would have predicted. She shrugged. She smiled again. “I don't know,” she said. She turned to me. “Did you?”
Here it was. A direct question. My heart surged through my chest. My wife was directly and frankly asking me if I liked her flirting with another man. This was different than getting hit on. This was a talk about deliberately flirting. Coaxing another man.
Maybe more?
“Okay,” I said. “I'll tell you the truth. It was really hot. I would be...I would be up for your...proposal.”
Kathy looked shocked for a second, and I felt a surge of disappointment. Then I realized she was joking. She slapped me playfully. “That I have anal sex with that guy?”
I was grateful that my cock was not against her skin, or she would have felt the way her words sent me through the roof. Even though we had barely finished, I was ready to go again. My dirty mind went straight to creating an image of Kathy with another man's cock in her ass, her mouth open in ecstasy, and I was a goner.
“Of course not that,” I said quickly. “I mean, unless you want to -”
I was about to tell her how I was just talking about flirting, but I cut myself off. Kathy had just shrugged, as though she might actually entertain the idea.
Of anal sex.
With another man.
I knew she was just teasing me, but it didn't change the way she was setting fire to me. I rolled over on top of her. “Aha,” I said. “You would do that, then? With a total stranger?”
I had slid my hand down, so that I could easily finger her while lying on top of her to keep her from
squirming away. Her pussy was soaking wet, filled with my cum and her own. It seemed to me, though, that she was also ripe again, like me.
Aroused by the idea of another man.
She shuddered as I brushed my fingers over her clit.
She certainly hadn't rushed to deny what I had suggested.
My cock was hard and slipped inside of her easily. Almost too easily, she was so wet. I pulled her legs up and she wrapped them around me, pressing her ankles into my lower back. She crossed her legs at the ankle and pulled me deep inside of her with the force of her legs. My whole shaft was immersed in her hot, wet flesh again. The cum and juices of her cunt flowed over and dripped down my balls, tickling me like a tongue as they went.
“Is that a yes?” I said. Even though she was so wet there was almost no friction in her cunt, I was boiling over again. I felt my cock throb inside of her.
“Maybe,” she said with a grin. Then she blushed.
But I felt her pussy tighten around me. She might have been unable to say it aloud, but there was no question that my wife was turned on by something in all of this. I thrust myself to orgasm just after she moaned and dug her nails into my back by thinking – and hoping – that the idea that turned her on so much was the same as mine. The idea of her bending over, and taking a big fat cock inside of her, while I watched.
C HAPTER 4
FOUR YEARS AGO
“I don't know,” Kathy said. She was sliding one stocking from a pair of thigh-high pantyhose up and over her leg. She let the rubber-backed lace snap into place on her thigh – a full thigh, free of cellulite. She had said “I don't know” so many times that I no longer had any idea what she was referring to. She frowned at the stocking and then started to take it off.
“Whoa,” I said. “You're taking it off? I thought it was sexy.”
She peeled it away and threw it at me. “I don't like it.” She turned to the full-length mirror and gave herself a once-over. “I don't know,” she said.
A Conventional Hotwife Page 4