Maybe she liked Leigh.
Maybe she liked them both.
You could never tell with that woman.
Of course, if he asked her, she’d tell him. But that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.
*
Billie liked parties but she didn’t like doing jack shit to make them happen. She called this “Bulgarian style,” but Craig suspected it was just laziness. She had torn up a hole in the backyard grass and thrown some huge rocks around it to make a “fire pit.” It was probably illegal, but Craig didn’t bother worrying about that either, since Billie could talk her way out of anything. At her “Bulgarian-style” barbecues, she cooked by throwing things into the fire wrapped in aluminum foil, and making Craig fish them out for her whenever she remembered they were still in there.
It was all in stark (and very appealing) contrast to the way Billie spent a ton of money on herself and the inside of their house. She kept herself waxed and trimmed, manicured and dressed in expensive, sexy outfits, tanned and gymed and exfoliated to the tune of thousands a month (which Craig happily paid).
It was just crazy to see her hawk potatoes and chunks of pork into a fire and call it cooking.
Leigh and Jeremy arrived at seven on the dot, and it was pretty clear from the way Leigh emerged from the house first and waved Jeremy down the driveway with one hand while balancing a casserole dish in the other like she had stepped out of Leave It To Beaver, that Leigh was the reason the trains ran exactly on time at the Hobbs household.
Craig enjoyed looking at her through the peephole as she smoothed her hair and her dress.
She was wearing a long-ish blue dress, another sundress that was charming but not especially sexy. But she had painted her lips a bright red.
Craig smiled and watched her for just a moment more before opening the door.
“Hey guys,” Billie said from behind him. She stepped under Craig’s arm and looked up at him, her eyes all smiles and her face a big lie of neutrality.
That Billie. She always knew what was up.
“Come on, come to the back yard,” she said, taking the casserole dish and ducking back under Craig’s arm.
“That’s not potato salad!” Jeremy blurted. Billie smiled wryly.
Craig backed up against the door and ushered them in, letting his eyes rest for a moment on the shelf of cleavage under Leigh’s blue dress. From where he was standing, he could see down the front a little ways, to the crevice between her flesh.
That’s when he got the idea, the challenge, the thing he wanted to get:
He wanted to get his cock right in there, between her pillowy tits, and jerk himself off until his cum leaked all over her neck and her chin, maybe across her cheeks and her lips. He wondered if the uptight little miss Leigh would lick it from her mouth.
She probably would. If he could get her that far, she probably would.
He snapped back to reality to keep the erection he was getting from getting any worse.
*
Billie had made the good choice (bless her) of inviting a few other people – some from her work, a friend from university, and a coworker of Craig’s, just to keep a good mix going. Cal and Diana were an easy-going couple who liked skiing and snowboarding, and therefore found an instant audience with Jeremy, who professed to want to move to Colorado for the snow. Diana was good for tossing Billie’s crazy potatoes around in the fire while she smoked a joint. Dave was a good listener and drinking buddy, and he brought his dog, a dopey-looking bulldog puppy who attracted all the ladies and made them squeal when he drooled on them.
Nicely played.
Mike worked with Craig, and he was someone Billie had played with about a year ago. Craig normally enjoyed having him around for sport, because Billie had never really clarified for Mike that she and Craig had an open relationship.
She claimed, in that Eastern European way of hers, to have simply omitted it, but Craig knew she got off on it.
Whatever. As long as she was honest with him. He could understand it. Everything was hotter if it was illegal. He also didn’t mind the look of fear that washed over Mike’s face every time he talked to him.
Back to Leigh.
Leigh liked the dog, which was a good sign that she wasn’t an ice queen. She poured herself a conservative glass of wine and drank it slowly, and to Craig’s delight seemed to bore of the conversation about snowboarding.
Good. She was looking around, looking for something to do. She wouldn’t go over to the dog again (too messy), and she wouldn’t go by the fire (too Reefer Madness for her). He could move in on her in just a few minutes, just when she’d be grateful for the company.
He watched her stand up and cross the yard to a table where Billie had haphazardly thrown items for the barbecue. He gave it a beat, looked around the yard, then looked back at Leigh, who was placing a potato chip delicately between her teeth.
She bit into it like she didn’t want to break it, and as he watched, Craig modified his plan a little.
He’d like to jerk off in her tits.
But he’d also like to know what it felt like to have prim little Leigh nibble at the tip of his cock with those perfect, straight white teeth, the way she was biting into that potato chip.
He stood up, taking his paper plate with him, and headed toward Leigh.
Billie cut him off, giving him a knowing wink over her shoulder. “Leigh!” she said, in her melodic voice that was as seductive to women as it was to men (or at least Craig liked to think so). “Come and help me wrap these potatoes for the fire.”
Billie gave an extra shake of her ass as she placed her hand on Leigh’s back and pushed her in the other direction.
Craig tipped his hat at her, and veered to the left to attend to the barbecue – where he was doing the proper, American cooking - and watch his wife at work. Whatever that work was.
*
Jeremy had consumed about four tall boys in the pace of a few hours, which had him at a very sweet spot of not being too loaded to be comprehensible, but not much caring about what he said. He enjoyed the show of Leigh at a barbecue, sinking into a pleasant fantasy in which he wasn’t there, and his wife was alone, up for grabs...
Billie had pulled Leigh away with her, which was another thing he enjoyed watching with fascination. Was he losing his mind, or was Billie flirting with his wife?
Billie had her arms linked through Leigh’s by the fire, and two were clutching each other to talk to Diana in what looked like a very conspiratorial manner. Jeremy let a wave of fantasies about that wash through his mind, and almost forgot about his pleasant thoughts about Craig fucking his wife, which he had also been enjoying as he drank his beer.
When, speak of the devil, Craig plopped into a chair right next to him.
Craig didn’t take his eyes off Leigh. Or maybe he was looking at his own wife – they were, after all, standing right next to each other. But it seemed to Jeremy that the man had a particular kind of seedy, hungry expression on his face, and it wasn’t the look a man gave a woman he slept with every night.
“Man,” Craig said, after a long silence that threatened to turn awkward. “Leigh is really something.”
Jeremy felt his heart thunder to a new pace, but he kept his cool. “Yeah,” he said, not really knowing what else to say. In the same way he hadn’t been sure how to deal with Craig’s comments at the golf course, he didn’t know what to say or do now. He kept quiet, waiting to see how things turned out. This was more because he didn’t know how he felt about them himself: were they erotic or infuriating? Did he feel intrigued or jealous?
Craig turned to him. “Hey how’d that conversation end up going with her?”
Jeremy, of course, knew what he was talking about, but for the sake of looking like it wasn’t the only thing on his mind day and night, he played stupid. He squinted. “Conversation…?”
“About the covers. You remember… the erotic modeling shots? You know, after we saw it was her, we found a bunch more books she
’s on the cover of.” Craig looked back at the fire pit, where the women seemed to be huddling ever-closer to each other, giggling. “Some of them are hot.”
Jeremy brought his beer to his lips. “Oh, that,” he said. “Yeah. She was… surprised. But she did some modeling for some guy who does stills. I guess… that’s something they can be used for. Erotica.”
Craig leaned on the armrest of his chair, and the crappy little fold-up shifted precariously under his muscled weight. “Tell me man, are there any more of those? I can’t find any of her in her underwear. But there have to be some.”
Jeremy leaned back. Was this guy for real? As thrilling as it was, he had some fucking gall, just straight up asking for pictures of his wife in her underwear.
Craig seemed to pick up on the bad vibe. “Oh hey man, I didn’t mean, like, any disrespect. I just… they’re up there, you know.” He tipped his beer into his mouth, finishing off the last drop, before weaving the bottle through his fingers gracefully. “Sometimes I step over the line. I forget, since Billie and I are the way we are, not everyone is cool with that.”
“Cool with that?” Jeremy repeated, sounding like a parrot.
Craig tossed the bottle into a trash bin. “Yeah, you know. Open relationship. Sometimes I forget.”
Jeremy felt like he had been smacked in the face. His vision even sparkled a little at the edges.
“Open relationship,” he parroted again. He leaned forward, shifting in his chair. “Seriously? You guys?”
Underneath the expression he was making, the look of curiosity, the smile of disbelief, Jeremy was masking a budding arousal.
Craig smiled at him. “Sure, man. I thought you knew that.”
Jeremy leaned back in his chair. His beer was empty but he brought it to his mouth and tried to take a drink anyway. Craig laughed at him and stretched forward toward the cooler to snag them a beer each. The bottles hissed as he popped the caps off with the butt-end of a lighter.
Very manly. Jeremy had never quite gotten the hang of that trick.
Jeremy took one and shook his head. “So you… books like that are kind of… you actually do that stuff?”
“Which book?” Craig said. “I don’t do everything.”
Jeremy’s heart was racing. He was so close to the conversation he’d wanted to have all night but had thought would never happen, that now he worried he would bungle it.
“Uh… you know. What’s it called? The first one we saw?”
Julia’s Big Boss. As if he would forget the name.
“Oh, that. That was a.. a hotwife book, wasn’t it?”
Jeremy’s heart beat faster.. “I think so.”
Craig nodded. He sipped his latest beer. “Yeah. Yeah, we do that.”
“Really,” Jeremy said, attempting to sound clinical. “You.. so how does… how does it work?”
Craig turned to him. Jeremy could see that the other man could read his face, read his interest. In a moment, Craig knew. He knew that Jeremy was hanging on his every word, thrilled to hear about hotwifing. His eyes were lit up with curiosity, but also excitement.
Craig put his hand on his thigh. “Well…” he said. He looked back at Billie. “It works like… she finds a guy she wants to play with, and then I watch.”
Jeremy emitted a strange sound. “And you just… um, guys just go along with it?”
Craig smiled. “Why? You want to fuck Biljana?”
Jeremy shook his head quickly, and though it may have looked like a childish denial of the truth, it was hardly that. He didn’t really want to “fuck Biljana.”
He wanted Craig to fuck Leigh, though.
He shook his head again, hoping to clear out his mind. No. God no. He didn’t really want that. “I was just… curious.” He felt the need to keep talking. “Curious about how… yeah, how do you, you know… get the ball rolling with something like that?”
He hoped that wasn’t an offensive thing to say to someone who had just asked you if you wanted to fuck his wife. He felt incredibly out of his depth here. He also couldn’t be sure that Craig was completely serious.
Craig laughed. “Well, what would you do if some guy came to you and said, hey do me a favor and fuck my wife?”
Jeremy was flummoxed. His mouth hung open for a moment. “I…” He laughed. “Man, I have to tell you. I have no fucking idea what I’d say.”
Craig grinned and looked back at the women by the fire. “Well, most guys – once they know you aren’t fucking around – say, sure, no problem.”
There was a pause, and then Craig added, “Especially if your wife looks like Leigh.”
Jeremy felt another twist in his gut, and again, it was hard to tell if the feeling was pleasurable or painful.
Craig looked back at him. “You know, I didn’t figure this out about myself for a long time,” he said.
Jeremy squinted. “What do you mean?”
Craig smiled. It was an almost paternalistic smile, and it would have gotten under Jeremy’s skin if not for the fact that Craig really did have his number: there was something about himself that he was just coming around to admitting.
Jeremy watched as his new neighbor shrugged, stood up, and walked toward the fire.
The message was clear. “What he meant” was: watch this.
*
Craig recognized a lot of himself in Jeremy: he was being sincere when he said that. But Jeremy had all the makings of a guy who only wanted to watch other men fuck his wife, and Craig had met a few of those – enough to know.
Craig himself (and Billie for that matter) was a man of far more tastes than that, and one thing he enjoyed doing was being on the other end of it. For the record, he wasn’t the kind of husband to just watch, either. He liked to be in the game.
It was hard to tell what kind of guy Jeremy would end up being, but for now it didn’t really matter. To Craig, it all seemed like a perfect opportunity.
He had one thing in mind for now: giving Jeremy a taste of how nice it was to watch another man try seduce your wife.
He circled the fire and the three women. He was unsurprised that Jeremy had taken his cue and stayed where he was, in the distance, watching. The guy was a little naive but he wasn’t a sap, and maybe he didn’t know how to articulate what he wanted, but he wanted it badly enough he wasn’t going to stop Craig right now.
Leigh, Craig could tell, was already feeling a little guilty. It was probably the combination of having been caught out for taking racy photos – racier, evidently, than her husband knew about – and being there by the fire under Billie's influence.
She looked up as Craig approached, and met his eyes for one searing moment. Her expression, before she quickly looked away, was a lot like the one she had in the photo from Julia’s Big Boss. Alluring and hesitant; sexualized and prude, all at the same time.
Craig made his mind up that, no matter how things panned out with Jeremy, he was going to get that little girl to fuck him.
“Ladies,” he said, plopping down on a carved chair Billie had insisted on buying.
Billie gave him a grin. She was certainly an asset in this game.
“We were just talking about making S'mores,” Billie purred. “But Leigh doesn’t want any.”
The way Billie said this was a thing of beauty. It was dripping with insinuation, and yet it wasn’t. Billie managed to walk a fine line in her mischief: she was always fun, never mean… but she managed to stir the pot no matter what.
“Doesn’t want any S’mores, huh?” Craig said, and chose the perfect moment to look at Leigh, who had her hands between her knees, clasped together, pulling a bit of a Catholic choir-girl look. He wondered if she meant to do that, or it was entirely subconscious. She looked at Craig like a deer in the headlights.
Billie gave the whole uncomfortable moment a few beats, before she broadened her sunny smile and hopped up. “I tell you what, I’m going to get them and then you decide. Diana, come help me carry all these things.”
And just
like that, he was alone with the lovely Leigh.
Craig was already picturing the things Billie was envisioning with her S’mores: the dripping chocolate, the creamy, sticky marshmallows. She probably didn’t even like S’mores – it wasn’t exactly her style to like sweet, campy American things. But she probably did like how messy they would get.
Leigh gave her ponytail a little shake and smoothed her hair against one side.
Oh, what the hell. Craig was a little lit, and Leigh with her ponytail really got to him.
Just to see how she’d react, and hoping to get things burning, he jumped right in.
“Jeremy must have told you I’m the one who recognized you from your pictures.”
Leigh’s pretty mouth fell open a little. She was totally disarmed.
Craig felt a delicious ripple of excitement. Leigh, Leigh, so tightly wrapped and yet so sexy, so willing to pose for pictures like that and then so quick to blush when someone mentioned them. She was just the kind of fun, tightly-wrapped girl who might spring open in a delightful burst of really filthy naughtiness if someone just found the right way to unlock it…
“You’re really quite sexy.”
Leigh shot him a look, and then turned her eyes quickly back to the fire. Her embarrassment showed, traveling over her neck as a bright red splotch and making her twist her hands together.
“I… uh, didn’t realize they would be… you know, used for, uh… erotica.”
The word “erotica” had such a hard time leaving her mouth that it was slightly misshapen by the time it did, sounding a bit more like “uroh-tig...uh.”
Craig took a long stick and poked it into the fire. “You’re quite the popular cover girl,” he mused.
And then he waited, just a few seconds, while his words sank all over Leigh. He pushed a charred scrap of wood around and watched it disintegrate into flames. Then he said, in a low voice: “I can see why.”
Leigh’s eyes flickered quickly from the fire to meet his, and for just a moment he saw exactly what he wanted to see: a thrill traveled through her. A naughty little thought. Her lips parted slightly, and she put her hands to either side of her hips and kicked one foot out toward the fire.
Leigh Uncovered: A Wife Sharing Novel Page 7