by David Stone
Love Thy Neighbor’s Hotwife
The Wife Chronicles
D A V I D S T O N E
Copyright © 2017 David Stone
Title: Love Thy Neighbor’s Hotwife
Working Title: Love Thy Neighbors
Cover: Mobley Graphic Designs
Editing: Ashley Lords
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
He Touched You Where?
Stacy Explains Life To Me
Let’s Talk About This
New World Order
Liquid Lunch Confessions
Afternoon Delights
Dinner For Four
Spin The Bottle
Into The Night
Please, Take My Wife
Afterglow
The Wife Chronicles
Whoops! Nobody’s Perfect
Author’s Notes: Whoops
He Touched You Where?
“Wait a minute… What? He touched you where?” My gorgeous wife of ten years had just shared some troubling news. My fingers drummed the new granite countertop waiting for a reply. We’d just remodeled the kitchen, and I was now wondering why we’d bothered. Was she telling me it was over?
“He just touched me, Don. You know - intimately?”
“That’s not much help, Donna. What does ‘intimately’ mean?”
“Here,” she said. Her index finger pointed to her crotch. She turned around to finish preparing our morning espressos. We were reviewing the prior night’s dinner party celebrating our new kitchen. It’s the sort of thing couples did in the suburbs, celebrate big-ticket expenditures.
I admit I was a little dazed and very confused. We were a happy couple. Why were other men touching my wife’s crotch? Should I be touching other women’s crotches? It seemed to be a thing now if we’re to believe the news.
The perpetrator of the crime my wife was outlining was our neighbor Ed. Up until now, his only crime had been not returning power tools. He and his wife Kristen were good friends and we were regulars at each other’s dining tables.
I looked at my wife’s crotch, the scene of the crime, and felt an overwhelming need for conquest. I wanted to bend Donna over our new counter, which by the way cost $400 per foot, and fuck the Bejesus out of her. It was a confusing impulse. Shouldn’t I be disgusted? I needed more information if I was going to compute this properly.
“You mean he touched your…”
“My pussy, Don. Yes, he touched my pussy.” She seemed eager for me to get the full grasp of the situation.
“You mean on the outside, right? He touched you over your clothes?”
Donna scanned the new $40 a foot floor tile while she reflected on a reply. The tile went well with the new countertops.
“Donna?” I was impatient now. Plus, my conquest impulses had given me a confusing but firm erection.
“No, Don. Not over my clothes… Well, yes, initially it was over my jeans, but then he slipped his hand inside my panties and, well, he fingered me a little.”
This was not the reply I had expected. My brain performed a backflip digesting her words and the image of my neighbor’s fingers probing my wife’s interior. That wasn’t simple touching, which could have been accidental. It was a deliberate molestation. I couldn’t think of anything to say, which Donna prudently viewed as an opportunity to explain the situation.
“Don, we were all pretty drunk and, well, we’ve all been kind of flirty with each other over the years, you know, in that way couples do who are good friends. It’s never serious. Anyway, not usually… When I came to the kitchen to get another bottle of wine, Ed followed me in, but quietly. I didn’t know he was there, and when I turned around he said, “BOO!” and it startled me. He was just kidding around of course.
“I laughed. Then I went back to opening the wine. The cork wasn’t coming out so I put it between my legs for leverage and Ed said, ‘Oh, I envy that bottle. It’s exactly where I’d like to put my head right now’. I knew he was still kidding but I wanted to tease him, so I put the bottle down and said in a flirty way, ‘Envy what, Ed?’. I used my posture to make it obvious what I meant. I thrust my pelvis at him, you know, suggestively. What I’m saying is, I kind of heaved my pussy at him, okay? But I was just kidding.
“He looked at me and got serious and said, ‘This.’ He cupped his hand over my pussy. I was shocked, of course, but I kind of liked it. And in another second he was fingering me and I mean, it was really naughty and I was instantly wet, and we were both drunk, so…”
“You liked it? He touched you…. By the way, since when do we say ‘Pussy’? You’ve never once used that word. And how does he get his hand in your jeans? You wear tight jeans, Donna. There’s no way he could…”
“I unbuttoned them, Don, then I pulled down the zipper.”
“What? You did it? He didn’t force it?”
“No, Don. Like I said, it just felt naughty. It was so in-the-moment. I don’t know. I can’t really explain it.”
“Where did this happen? I mean, how could that have happened and us not see it?” The kitchen was in plain view of the dining room, maybe twenty feet away at best.
“I could see you, Don. I was about right where I am now. I was facing the dining room and Ed was in front of me. If you’d look you would have just seen us standing here.”
“What if I’d walked into the kitchen when his hand was down your jeans? Or Kristen? What would you have done then?”
“I know, right?” she said. Her eyes got a dreamy look. “It was really naughty and risky. I think that’s why...”
“I don’t understand, Donna. What are you telling me here? Do you want to fuck Ed? Is that what this is about?”
“I’m not saying that, Don. I don’t know what it means, but I can’t deny that I liked it. It excited me.”
“Don’t I excite you enough? I mean, I know we don’t make love as often as we used to. Is that it?”
“I wanted to make love to you last night after they all left. I was dying for it. You’re a handsome, strong man. You’re highly desirable, Don. But you shrugged me off when I tried. You’d drunk too much. So you see, what happened with Ed made me want to fuck you.”
“Donna, how did he... I mean, show me how he first touched you there.” Donna put the palm of her hand on my cock, then gently massaged. She used her middle finger to tickle my perineum, in this case standing in for her vagina. I couldn’t help but visualize Ed touching my wife exactly as she was touching me now.
“How deep did his fingers go?” I felt exasperated trying to sort through all this information. There were questions of degree and intent to be answered. I couldn’t believe I was asking my wife these questions.
“You mean when he fingered me?” she asked.
“Of course that’s what I mean!”
Donna held up her hand and studied her digits. She decided on her middle finger and held it up. “This far.” Whether intentionally or not, she was now giving me the finger literally.
Donna poured cream into my coffee and handed it to me. It was just the way I liked it. Less than twelve hours earlier a man had his fingers in her panties, and here she was offering me a coffee just the way I liked it. A hummingbird, a regular visitor, sipped sugar water from a feeder right outside the kitchen window. The sky, rather than falling i
n, was brilliantly blue and right where it was supposed to be.
Was I missing something here? Were we still a couple? Where is the line drawn in such matters? Surely, pussy-fingering another man’s wife must cross a line of some kind. Was I supposed to stomp out of my house, one in which I’d just invested over a hundred grand, and call it good?
All I really wanted to do was fuck the hell out of my wife right then and there. I’d never been so excited and conflicted in my life. Donna’s eyes were giving me a similar vibe. She was telling me about Ed’s pussy fingers for a reason.
I put my cup down, looked into Donna’s eyes, then turned her around, bending her gently over the counter. She didn’t resist so it was a consensual maneuver. Perhaps she felt she deserved what was coming, whatever it was. She turned her head and simply looked curious. I pulled off her robe and pushed her panties down and she clued in. I detected a slight smile on her face before she turned away. She seemed to brace herself, bowing her head toward the counter and gripping where she could.
“Don, are you going to fuck me? Is that what this is? I want you to... Or are you going to spank me? Please do whatever you want to me, Don. Just do it. I deserve it...”
I said nothing. She spread her legs as if beckoning me. I liberated my cock and slipped it up and down her ass and slit. She was gorgeously wet and ready which, in this case, was at a moment’s notice. I thrust into her hard and she moaned ecstatically, and within moments I was lifting her feet completely off the ground as I rammed my cock as hard as I could. I was totally dominant and it felt wonderful. I was violent and fierce, injecting every once of my energy into fucking this woman, my wife, who had let another man finger her.
And she was loving it. I could tell by her near screams, each lined with tones of submissive euphoria and joy. Her body spasmed and jerked as if possessed. Items on the counter danced around as if under the spell of an earthquake.
We came together, our bodies noisily slapping and smacking, both of us grunting and gasping.
I fell on top of her. We were both panting for air. As my cock softened and slipped out she wiggled her ass as if to suggest having another go. For the moment, it was an impossibility. I was completely and utterly satisfied, drunk in the afterglow, feeling more in love with Donna than I’d ever been.
It was weird.
She turned around to face me. Her eyes were full of wonder, as if questioning who this man was in front of her, this Neanderthal, this demon with a cock. Her wonder evaporated. Her eyes smiled. She pulled me for a deep, bone-crushing hug. She’d never hug me this way before. It felt like we were falling in love all over again.
Indeed. It was very weird.
We were too spent to exchange any words. Somehow, we had conquered this thing that had come between us, this indiscretion with the neighbor. In short, the ‘finger incident.’
By we time we both recovered from our savage lovemaking the day was upon us, her family was arriving, things needed preparing and there were expectations to be met. By the end of the day, only sleep was a possibility.
Neither one of us knew what to say anyway.
Stacy Explains Life To Me
“So, what you’re telling me is, she let your neighbor feel her up in the kitchen,” said Stacey, my project director, now sitting across from my desk. She was a forthright person with whom one could discuss anything. She was also very sexy and knowledgeable about all matters involving sexual relations. We were minutes away from our regular Monday morning staff meeting, ostensibly preparing for it.
“When you put it that way it sounds a little more harmless,” I said. “But fingering my wife doesn’t have that ring, does it? If a man fingered you, would you refer to it as being felt up? I don’t think so.”
“If I liked the guy I would call it, I don’t know... A start? Obviously, your wife liked it. Forget your neighbor. Focus on your wife. She had a void to fill, and he filled it.”
Stacy realized that may have come out wrong and attempted to repair her phrasing.
“I mean, maybe she has some desires you aren’t satisfying, Don. You’ve been married ten years. It’s not like you’re newlyweds anymore. How exciting can sex be after ten years with the same person?”
“You’re not helping, you know. I thought our sex life was normal.”
“Was it still exciting?” Stacy asked.
“Well, it was nice. Everything still worked in that area. I still find her body exciting.”
“When is the last time you made love that was really great?”
“Yesterday morning, after she had told me everything. We screwed right in the kitchen like savage animals.”
Stacy’s eyes lit up, and her body English became suggestive. “You fucked right after she told you she let your neighbor finger her? See what happened there, Don? It made you jealous, and that made you horny as hell, right? I bet you both came right away.”
She was right of course, though I hadn’t identified jealousy in the equation. The fact that she let another man touch her intimately had excited me. At no point did I ever feel anger. This seemed odd to me too.
Stacy continued: “She raised the stakes, Don. If you don’t take care of her, she’ll find someone who will. That’s the signal your cock received. It needed to dominate her.”
“I don’t like the idea, Stacy. I’m not sure that’s it. I don’t want her sleeping around with other men. That would make me angry, not horny.”
“Not other men, Don. You said the neighbor is a good friend. He’s a known entity to both of you. He’s not ‘other men’.”
“I’m not following. Why would I like for him to fuck my wife?”
“Because she’s your wife, Don. Her desirability to another man increases your desire for her, and you like this guy and trust his judgment. Plus, you know, you want to dominate the situation with your ‘seed’. You want to fuck her so your seed dominates his. It’s evolution, survival of the fittest.”
I got the logic but didn’t know how to extrapolate from what had occurred into a viable horizon for us. Did my wife want to ‘swing’? Did I? Ed’s wife Kristen was attractive and sexy. We did flirt, but always within a safe zone that wouldn’t land either of us in the dog house.
“Don, do you think you’d like to watch this guy make love to your wife? Have you thought about that?”
I hadn’t, but with the thought in my mind now, I felt what I’d felt the day before in my expensively remodeled kitchen. The idea of him thrusting into my wife, both of them naked on my marital bed, gave me an instant erection. I shifted in my chair.
“Stacy, what if I had thought about it, and liked the idea?”
“It’s in your nature, or men’s nature, to respond. In this case, the response is ‘desire’. It’s your natural instincts narrating the dialogue in your head, Don. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I wouldn’t be in your shoes. Maybe your wife wants to see you making love to the neighbor’s wife. Maybe it would get her hot, meaning hot for you. She doesn’t want to lose your seed to the neighbor’s wife. You show an attraction to the neighbor, and it makes your wife crazy horny for you.”
“Would it make you hot to see your boyfriend fucking someone else?”
“If I had one, yeah, assuming I loved him, of course. If I saw another woman stealing his ‘seed’ I’d be all over him to get to it first. That doesn’t sound too romantic, but I’m sure you get my drift.”
I did get her drift. Sex was a competition for resources. Men needed to spread their seed, women needed to attract it. Of course, discretion was required on both sides.
Stacy grinned beguilingly. “Maybe you should fuck me over lunch, tell your wife about it over dinner tonight, and see how she feels about that. I’m game.”
“Thanks, Stacy, but that’s not something I’m prepared to do. I’m still a married man.”
“Your wife is a married woman. In the past what, forty-eight hours, she’s had two men inside her in one way or another.”
Just her saying that alon
g with the mental imagery it provoked took my erection to Defcon One, or whichever Defcon is the one that launches the missiles. Why was I reacting this way? Also, Stacy had just offered herself to me over lunch which, frankly, I’d made no plans for. If my wife was letting neighbors finger her pussy, surely it meant I could fuck a co-worker without shame or regret?
No, I couldn’t do that. But what if Stacy joined my wife and me in our bed? That had a different ring to it. I could see that, but only now that I’d thought of it. It was the sort of thing that had never been on my radar in the past, and here I was discussing it.
“Stacy, just hypothetically now, what if a situation arose where you slept with my wife and me? Is that something you would consider?”
“Hmm,” said Stacy. “She is attractive, Don. Do you think she’s interested in women?”
“I can’t say. It’s never come up.”
“You mean you’ve never grilled her on, say, lesbian encounters in college? Most men ask that question by the third date.”
“No. I’ve never asked her. Anyway, I’m wasn’t thinking about you and her getting it on. Just you two on me.”
“Well, she’s kind of opened the door, I’d say. Ask her tonight. But, yes, to answer your question. I can see sleeping with both of you, or both of us on you, whatever. I guess you’re also saying you’d like to fuck me, Don. That’s sweet.”
“I’m sorry, Stacy. I’m just…”
“No, it’s fine Don. I don’t mind. Let’s say the offer is on the table. But your wife doesn’t really know me. You should ask her who she’d like to have in your bed. Just do it. Maybe she’s got a thing for your neighbor’s wife too or has the idea of just sharing husbands... Hey, we should probably head over to our meeting, don’t you think? We’re kind of late already.”
As we headed to the company’s conference room my head swirled with new possibilities. In just twenty-four hours my sexual horizon had grown exponentially. The various scenarios playing in my brain were causing unrelenting enthusiasm in my briefs. The idea of making love to Stacy while my wife watched was excruciatingly pleasant. But so was the idea of watching my wife make love to Ed. The thought of screwing his wife I now viewed as a real possibility.