Leigh Uncovered: A Wife Sharing Novel

by Arnica Butler

  “I’m serious about it. And so are you.”

  Leigh tapped her finger on his chest.

  “Tell me if you’re not,” Jeremy said. “Because it’s about to get really serious.”

  Leigh tapped him again.

  Then she took a deep breath. “There’s just one thing,” she said. “It really bothers me.”

  “What’s that?”

  Leigh lifted her head. Her hair slipped over his chest, silky and soft. A little shiver ran through Jeremy. Leigh’s eyes were bright and pretty, and her lips seemed almost puffy, more sensual than usual. It was almost as if her appearance were transforming with her sensibilities, though Jeremy figured this was all in his imagination.

  “They’re our neighbors, you know. I don’t want this to turn into some kind of… like, where we are all just...” she waved her hand in the air.

  “Coming and going?” Jeremy offered.

  “Like a hippy commune or a cult or something,” Leigh said at almost the same time.

  “A cult,” Jeremy repeated, smiling.

  Leigh covered her mouth. It was silly. She laughed. “You know what I mean.”

  Jeremy looked up at the ceiling and stroked her back. “I do.”

  What to do about that? There certainly was the possibility that things could get really weird with those two, if they started down this path.

  And Billie was a real wild card. He didn’t know what he could expect from her.

  “And the thing is,” Leigh continued. “I’m not doing this because… I mean, I know it seems like it’s out of attraction to Craig, but honestly, I don’t really even like him all that much. I just mean, I don’t want to start some kind of… weird thing.” Leigh threw an arm down to slap the bed. “Agh! I’m not making any sense. I just -”

  Jeremy nodded. “Look, I think I get it. You don’t want to have a weird relationship with our neighbors just because you slept with him one time.”

  Leigh sucked in her breath. “It sounds awful when you put it like that.”

  Jeremy laughed lightly.

  “Let’s think on it,” he said. “We don’t have to solve this problem tonight.”

  Leigh nodded.

  Jeremy closed his eyes.

  “It’s going to keep me awake,” she said.

  Jeremy smiled.

  Leigh kept talking, but he drifted off.

  In the morning, Jeremy woke up and rolled over to snuggle next to Leigh, who was still sleeping. As he woke up and the memories of the evening before, and the weeks before, spilled over into his consciousness, his regular morning erection grew against the small of her back.

  He slid his hand along the curve of her waist and hip, then dropped from her hip to her belly, taking a swipe across her patch of downy hair. He moved his fingertips over the tops of her thighs, playfully, teasing himself as much as her.

  His fingers kept moving up to the swell of her breasts, pressed together slightly by her draped arm.

  Leigh stirred. But instead of swatting him away, she pushed her ass back against Jeremy, and as she did the roundness of it rubbed against his swollen cock. The tip of him dipped into her crack, and he the valley between the two mounds of flesh that made up her full, tight ass was hot. Inviting.

  She made a sound, a little like a moan.

  Jeremy stopped, not because the sound was discouraging, but precisely because it wasn't. They hadn't had morning sex in ages. His cock throbbed against her ass.

  He propped himself up on his elbow, and looked at her face. Her eyes were still closed, but her lips were parted in a small smile. She rolled to her back, still giving the impression of sleeping, but it was obvious she was awake, or waking up.

  He slid his hand up to her freed breasts, hoping to tease her nipples into hard beads.

  His fingers found her right nipple, and he enjoyed the sensation of its hardness as he made a circle around it. The pleasure of feeling her harden in his hand traveled down the length of his arm to his cock, where it throbbed.

  He moved his hand down.

  He slipped into the folds of her pussy, and with his forefinger he sought the slit between her two lips.

  His finger dipped into a thick, hot wetness.

  He leaned forward and pushed her hair from her neck, meaning to nuzzle against her skin.

  But Leigh moved, and her eyes opened as though wakefulness had suddenly clutched her and squeezed.

  She didn't pull away, as Jeremy expected. Instead, she turned again, pushed her ass back against him, and sort of folded herself over.

  The message: no foreplay.

  It was highly unusual for Leigh, but what man was going to turn it down? His fingers had been clamped into her wet flesh and rolled with her. He pulled them out easily, gliding in her slipper-wetness.

  She moved her hand up to where his was and grasped it, and for a moment he felt the preemptive ache in his cock of getting turned down, especially painful because she had let him get so worked up.

  She held his hand against her hip, and turned slightly, her breath ragged and as excited as he felt. “I want to tell you before I forget,” she said. “I have an idea. The solution to our problem.”

  She pushed her ass toward him, lifting it seductively.

  In uncharted territory, her words bouncing around in his head like an echo that he could not make sense of, Jeremy paused behind her.

  He could smell her excitement, sweet and honeyed.

  Her hand slid down, behind her hip and her bottom, and found his cock. She pulled him toward her, and so he guided his cock to the soaked opening of her pussy, and they shifted until he slid in. She was so wet there was almost no friction, and her body was hot and liquid around him.

  ...the solution to our problems…

  She didn’t mean…?

  He thrust into her a few times, slowly, and moved his hand back around to the folds of her cunt, seeking the engorged crest of her clit. “What’s that?” he breathed.

  Leigh arched her back, pushing herself deeper onto his cock and tilting her head back into his chest. It was a feline, erotic move, and Jeremy stared down at her breasts, thrust forward, almost as if on display. She moaned again.

  “I’ll do it,” she said.

  She let this linger in the air. Jeremy’s cock throbbed inside of her, pressing against the walls of her pussy. He knew she could feel the jerking reaction to her words. He saw the way a smile crept into her lips.

  “I’ll do it,” she continued, “but what if we make a rule that it’s only when we’re out of town. To keep things from getting… messy?”

  But Jeremy was beyond talking about details. Not of that kind. He pulled Leigh’s hips toward him, and then, when he felt he couldn’t get deep enough inside of her, he rolled her onto her stomach and buried his cock to the hilt in her pussy. “You’ll do it,” he said. “You’ll let Craig fuck you?”

  “Oh!” Leigh moaned.

  He was getting close. “You’ll let Craig fill you up with his big cock?”

  Leigh clawed at the sheets.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Jeremy wanted her to say something else, talk about it in more detail, but he was too close.

  He leaned on his hands and watched his wife’s gaping mouth as he pounded her until she squeezed her eyes closed and her cunt clamped down on his cock, before bursting into waves of wet, fleshy orgasm. And then he came.

  8: A GAMBLER

  Jeremy wasn’t a big gambler, in the sense that he would never go out of his way to go someplace like Atlantic City. But standing at the top of the stairs looking out on the sunken floor, he could feel the excitement of it pumping through his veins. All his senses seemed heightened. Everything was coming to him in sharp relief: the scent of felt and hard liquor; the reds, greens and blacks; the muffled clatter of dice on tables, the hard pop of a roulette ball; the distant ringing of winning slot machines.

  Craig clapped him on the back. “Let’s get in some blackjack before the ladies get here,” he said.
“And a few drinks.”

  Atlantic City was no monument to elegance any more, but Leigh had suggested they dress up. Jeremy was wearing a suit, one he reserved for Christmas and retirement parties at the office. It was a little tight – nothing was going to rip, but it was an unpleasant reminder that he maybe needed to get back to the gym. Craig looked trim and muscular beneath an expensive gray shirt. He had let a little stubble grow on his jaw (or maybe it was truly a five-o-clock shadow) and it gave him a vaguely mafioso look in the shirt.

  Leigh, in addition to suggesting dressing up (which was what she was doing right now), had suggested a lot of things, like this trip. It was an odd-as-hell choice for Leigh, who didn’t drink that much, didn’t gamble, and did not exactly “blend” in this kind of scene with her prim sundresses and perfectly-coiffed hair.

  Or her sense of order and decorum, which casinos seemed to teeter on the edge of.

  After she had agreed to take things a step further with Craig, though, it was as if Leigh had grown another brain: she had taken it upon herself to plan the trip, to lay down the rules of her game, and to recruit Billie and Craig for it (though just how much “recruitment” either of these two needed, was up for debate.

  What had in fact happened is that Leigh had gone to Billie and told her she wanted to take the next step and actually sleep with Craig, but that she wanted to make a rule that they only did it on vacations, away from home.

  “That’s so convenient,” Billie had purred. “Because there is some kind of thing in Atlantic City next week. You should come, too.”

  And away Leigh had gone. She had booked the hotel and taken care of the details, and all Jeremy had to do was show up.

  It was a little unnerving that she had thrown herself into the details like that, but who was he to argue? And how did he even know if she was really going to go through with it?

  So here they were. He was just going to let it unfold however it did.

  He followed Craig to a blackjack table with only one other player, and they sat down to lose some money. Jeremy had set a strict budget for himself of $500, which was another thing that Leigh had acted strangely about. After she had decided on Atlantic City, he had told her he wanted to gamble. He had told her about the $500 limit (thinking he’d have to talk down to $250). But Leigh had done very little else besides shrug.

  The first few hands, though, went well for Jeremy. He won $40. He could feel the cool anesthesia of the whiskey he was drinking, the glittery sights he was seeing, and that little punch of adrenaline from winning, working together to take him to a dangerous high.

  Oh well, he was up, and the ladies would be joining them soon, Leigh would probably want to just go to dinner and not gamble too much, which would get him out of here before he lost too much money.

  “Quick,” Craig said, nudging him with his arm and throwing back what was left of his whiskey. “Get your last hand in before Billie comes over here and tells you how bad the odds are… whoa.”

  Jeremy turned to look in the direction of Craig’s gaze, and he immediately saw why Craig’s sentence had ended so strangely.

  Billie was in front of Leigh, already coming down the stairs. She was smiling and waving with one hand, clamping it open and closed. As always, she looked great: her small figure was slipping around in a loose black sheathe and her very athletic legs sprawled out of it. They were made dangerously long and pretty by a pair of high heels. She had taken the unusual step of putting a little bit of dark eye make-up on, and a glossy lip color.

  But however sexy Billie was in her odd KGB-spy-posing-as-a-tennis-star kind of way, she wasn’t the reason Craig had ended his sentence with “whoa.”

  Leigh was walking slowly behind Billie. She wasn’t smiling like Billie, but she was missing her normal hesitance as well. Walking slowly, not as much because she was shy, but because she was being deliberate.

  Or at least, that’s how it seemed.

  She was wearing a black dress from a shopping trip with Billie. This one had a severe cut in the middle, showing off a large amount of her breasts, but it still hinted at the dress that had set the whole thing in motion. Her large breasts were propped up beneath the dress, pushed together to form two full, delightfully round curves. The material hugged her waist and hips, and the dress ended far, far above Leigh’s usual hemline. Her legs were tones and sculpted, and she was wearing a pair of sexy and simple black shoes.

  Her hair was down, transforming the shape of her face. Like Billie, she had make-up on, but hers was a more natural-looking blush and quiet darkening of her eyes with shadow and mascara. Just enough to make her look sultry, instead of her usual home-spun, sweet fifties housewife look.

  Jeremy felt his pulse start to race.

  Billie slipped her arms into Craig’s and gave him a kiss, kicking up one heel. “You know blackjack is terrible odds. I don’t know why you play this game.” She looked at Jeremy, and kissed him on the cheek.

  But Jeremy was still transfixed by his wife, who was walking slowly toward the group.

  She shrugged when she got to them, holding out her hands. “Well,” she said. “What do you think?”

  Billie leaned toward Jeremy, who was staring at her. “It’s hot,” she prompted Jeremy.

  “It’s...so hot,” Jeremy said.

  Craig didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. His eyes were doing the talking, and so was his mouth, turned into a smile of approval and satisfaction. Jeremy felt his spine burn all the way down to his tailbone.

  “Let’s go play some craps,” Billie suggested. “Leave these two here with their bad odds.”

  Jeremy started to stand up, but Craig pushed him down gently with his hand. “Let them go,” he said. “It’ll be fun to watch them.”

  Jeremy hesitated, but eventually sank into the chair and played another hand. His heart was racing. Barely paying attention to his hand, and asking for a hit on 18 and 19 on his first and second, respectively, his attention was dragged to the craps tables, where the two women were glittering their way into the crowd.

  Men around them were turning like magnets and watching them unabashedly. Billie, of course, was flirting with everyone she ran into, and so by the time they made it to the craps table, they had a few men basically dragging along behind them.

  Jeremy felt a little surge, the feeling of being out of control. His wife was so much hotter than he often allowed himself to believe, and dressed like that, she was getting wild attention. He loved it, but it was also making him feel raw and exposed.

  His stomach twisted.

  Craig stood up. “I’m losing a fucking fortune,” he complained. “Let’s go get some drinks and watch the ladies.”

  They made their way to a bar, where there was a good view of the craps tables and Billie and Leigh, who had somehow obtained two expensive-looking, non-house drinks. They were large, blue martinis, and Billie slipped her arm into Leigh’s to drink them together.

  Leigh consumed hers very fast, and Jeremy could see that the glow of the alcohol took over her almost immediately; her smile loosened up, and she started to look less awkward as Billie touched her – holding onto her arm, leaning against her as she spoke to a pair of guys who approached them.

  Jeremy shuddered as he watched the scene: Billie introducing Leigh, Leigh smiling, the guy’s eyes unabashedly walking all over her body.

  They seemed to invite the two to play craps.

  Jeremy turned back to the bar and ordered himself a drink. He was feeling anxious, wanting the game that Leigh was playing to get back into the realm of Craig and Craig alone. This was not what he’d had in mind.

  “Don’t worry,” Craig said, in a low voice, like he could read Jeremy’s thoughts. “Billie just likes to have a little fun. She’ll bring it all back around.”

  Jeremy looked at Craig, unsure of what to say.

  After all, what do you say to the guy you want to fuck your wife when he assures you that his own wife isn’t getting your wife drunk and pimping her ou
t to a bunch of other guys, even if that’s what it looks like?

  Jeremy stared in front of him, trying to get himself under control. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe this isn’t at all what he wanted.

  He looked back at Leigh, trying to catch her eye.

  One of the guys was trying to give Leigh the dice, and she was shaking her head.

  “Come on,” Jeremy could see the guy saying. “For good luck.”

  Or some dumb thing.

  Leigh looked around, hesitantly. She didn’t find Jeremy, and so she seemed to give in. Her body relaxed, and he eyes stopped searching. She took the dice.

  The small crowd watching the game shifted, and Jeremy’s view was partially blocked. He heard an excited peal from the table. He saw Leigh’s big smile as she turned to the guy who was flirting with her.

  It was like something out of a movie, and it set his blood boiling. He started to stand up.

  Craig put his hand on his arm. “Easy, tiger. They’re just getting warmed up. Stay and watch a little.”

  Jeremy felt a flare of rage toward Craig – who the fuck did he think he was? - but then he remembered the whole reason they were here.

  Was it really fair to get this worked up because Leigh was doing something a little more than she had promised?

  And was he really upset by it?

  Or turned on?

  His cock throbbed, almost like an answer to his question.

  He looked back at the craps table, and watched as his wife laughed and rolled the die, looking nothing like herself, while a stranger looked right into the crevices of her tits and she said nothing to him.

  This went on for a while, and then the game seemed to cool. Billie had her arms draped over the shoulders of a guy who had taken a liking to her, and didn’t seem to be paying any attention to Leigh, who was looking around again.

  Jeremy couldn’t wait any more. He stood up and tipped his head in the direction of the girls. “Let’s go,” he told Craig. He wasn’t just going to let this unfold “however.”

  “Oh, there you are,” Billie said, when she saw them coming. She had really ratcheted up her accent, which didn’t sound much Bulgarian as Transylvanian at this point, so it was obviously an act. She held out her hand. “Here is my cousin, Tim, and my… “friend,” Jim.”