by Ben Boswell
“Deal,” I replied.
He checked his watch. “We’ll be out of here in time for the game, I think.”
Divisional playoffs
I nodded. “Yeah. But the late game is going to be the one to see. They always play each other close.”
“And bad blood,” he added. “Sucks to lose like that on a blown call. Broncs will definitely be looking for revenge.”
“Want to come over to watch?”
I felt a chill as I said it. It sounded like a perfectly normal suggestion, but given the game Terri and I had been playing, it felt like anything but normal in practice. But if he suspected I was secretly inviting him over to bone my wife, he didn’t let on.
“Sure. I’ll bring over a six pack,” he offered.
“Then what will you drink?”
He clapped me on the shoulder with a chuckle and stood up. “Alright, I need to pretend to pay attention. Trevor gets very upset if I miss him scoring a goal. See you later.”
“Later.”
I peered onto the court. Braden was spinning around like a top as the rest of the boys played around him. So much for a soccer scholarship.
***
There is nothing wrong or weird about inviting a friend over to watch a football game. So, why was it so hard to mention it?
I watched Terri standing in front of the stovetop. Even in jeans and a fluffy sweater, she still made a delightful impression. It also helped that the stew smelled delicious. Beef, wine, tomatoes, onions, garlic. A big pot of water was boiling in preparation for ribbons of thick, egg noodles.
I sighed and plastered a smile on my face. At least I hoped it was a smile rather than a grin or a smirk. I didn’t want to send the wrong message.
“Um, honey? So, I hope you don’t mind, but I invited Herb over to watch the game tonight.”
Terri stopped mid-stir.
“Herb, huh?”
She resumed stirring.
“Yeah. He was at soccer. And we got to talking about the game. And… I invited him over…. What? He’s been over here a million times.”
“I didn’t say anything. Why are you so defensive?”
She lifted the wooden spoon to her mouth and tasted. She added a little more salt and resumed her stirring.
“I’m not,” I replied. “It’s just. You know. After last night.”
She turned to face me.
“Last night?” She gave me a puzzled look. Then a nod. “Oh, you mean, last night when we play-acted Herb seducing me. The same Herb you invited over to-night.”
“He’s a friend.”
“Is Melody coming?” When I didn’t answer right away, she answered for me. “Oh, no probably not. Kids and all. And anyway, this is just to watch the game, right?”
“Right.”
She approached me. Her hand found my crotch.
“So, not once since this happened have you fantasized that I might end up riding Herb’s big prick?”
She gave me a squeeze and grinned as her palm closed on my erection.
“What do you expect if you fondle me?” I asked.
“Uh, huh.”
“What?”
“Remember, Bill,” she said. “Be careful what you wish for.”
“I’m not wishing for anything.”
She turned and went back to the stove. Was that an extra swivel in her step? An amused humming? Was she busting my chops? Or licking her lips in anticipation of the sensation of Herb’s fat tool sliding into her wet pussy?
***
I did dishes as Terri put the kids to bed. They’re young enough that even on Saturday we get them off to sleep at a reasonable time. I’d go up a little later to give them lights out.
I put the dishes into the dishwasher and scraped and seasoned the Dutch oven. I had one eye on the clock, though, as it inexorably ticked forward to the moment when Herb would arrive. And then what?
Nothing, of course. I’d just invited him to watch football. Nothing weird about that.
But then I thought about how wet Terri had been last night, even before I’d touched her, just from the fantasy of an afternoon tryst with Herb. Not that that was really surprising. She was the one who first mentioned Herb’s name in a sexual context. I was just responding to her. And yet, she was right. I did sort of want to see it. To see what kinky Herb with his great, big cock did to my sexy, little wife.
She cleared her throat from across the room. I jumped. She chuckled.
“Lost in thought, are we?”
I edged closer to the counter so she wouldn’t see that I was tenting up my jeans.
“Just finishing the dishes.”
“So, Bill…” I startled again. She was now right behind me. “What’s the game?”
“Broncos-Pats –“
“No, Honey, I mean with Herb. How does this go down?”
I didn’t answer.
She continued, “You planning to make a reckless bet that I need to pay off?”
My dick was so hard it ached
“Or maybe, you’re thinking I’ll dig out my old cheerleader outfit and shake my ass in his face?”
I groaned. She’d shown it to me once when we first moved in together. In retrospect, she’d probably been offering to model it for me. Why had I never had the guts to take her up on her implicit offer?
“You’re not thinking of a half-time beer run, where you sneak around back and watch me seduce him, are you? That one really seems like a cliché.”
I still couldn’t answer.
The doorbell rang.
“Hmm, well, I guess I’ll just have to play it by ear, won’t I? I’ll let Herb in. You say goodnight to the kids.”
I grunted my assent.
She left the kitchen. I forced myself to breathe deeply as I ran my hands under freezing cold water until I was in some semblance of control.
I went upstairs. First to Braden, and then to Annabelle. Each had me read them a short book before letting me tuck them in and turn out their lights, all of which took longer than I had anticipated.
I closed my daughter’s door softly and checked my watch. I’d missed the kickoff. And then it hit me.... Had I missed the kickoff?
I walked down the steps slowly, as quietly as possible. I wasn’t sure I wanted them to know I was there because I knew, with absolute certainty, what I would find: My wife naked in my friend’s lap. Her pretty, little pussy stretched around his fat prick as she rode him up and down. Him sucking hard on one of her big tits, mauling the other. His other hand wedged between her ass cheeks, his thick middle finger churning into her ass.
And the noises. Terri’s high pitched squeals. His loud slurping at her tit. The sound of her pussy squishing wetly as his huge cock filled her again and again.
It was such a searing vision that I actually had to blink my eyes in disbelief as I peered into the family room. What they were doing was even more incredible. They were… just sitting there… watching the game… and chatting.
Herb looked at me curiously. “You okay, man? Look like you seen a ghost.”
Terri was just grinning at me.
“Um… yeah,” I muttered.
Terri stood. “We were just waiting for you to get started.”
I groaned. Of course. So much the better to both torment and delight me. If Terri was going to fuck another man in front of me, she was going to milk it for everything she could. I’d see the flirt and the first kiss. His hand on her chest and hers on his crotch. The moment when her top came off and he admired her perfect breasts. The instant when she freed his prick from his pants and swallowed it into her hungry mouth. And, of course, the long, drawn-out culmination as his swollen member forced its way into her tight snatch.
I pictured her walking over to him. I have something for you.
A sudden discontinuity. “I have something for you,” she said.
But she wasn’t standing before him, fingers drawing attention to her cleavage. Instead, she was… handing me a beer?
He twiste
d off the top of his. Terri angled hers toward me. They were waiting for me to crack open the beers?
“Good return,” he said. “But then three and out for the Pats. Manning’s two for two with two first downs. Gonna be a long night for New England if they can’t get pressure on him.”
I sat down shakily beside my grinning wife, and turned my attention to the screen.
It was weird. I’d been so sure. The image of the two of them going at it so crisp and clear, that in a strange way, it was the prosaic reality of the game that seemed surreal in comparison.
My heart was pounding in my chest. I couldn’t shake the sensation that at any moment I would look over and see them going at it. Even with Terri sitting with me on the sofa, and Herb in the armchair, it was still somehow more surprising to me that when I looked over she was still beside me and not naked in his lap.
I know I made conversation, but I can’t remember anything I said or they said. Probably, we talked about football and the kids and maybe the weather.
Another first down over the middle.
It wasn’t going to be just a long night for the Pats.
CHAPTER TWELVE
After I escorted Herb to the door, I went upstairs and found Terri in our bedroom.
She’d stripped off her jeans and sweater, and was now walking around the room topless as she brushed out her long, blonde hair. There was something so over-the-top erotic about her, even though she wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. Or was she? She didn’t prance around topless every night. How much of this was calculated? How much was just in my head?
There were times when it embarrassed me. Or perhaps, left me ashamed. Ever since her 33rd birthday, when Janet had peeled back the curtain on Terri’s past, I’d seen my wife in a different light. After over a decade together, it was probably a good thing that she could still make me so crazy. Yet, at the same time, was it really healthy to so thoroughly sexualize her?
“Are you disappointed?” she asked.
“What?”
She rolled her eyes. Really, Bill? “Are you disappointed that I didn’t fuck Herb tonight?”
I laughed anxiously. “No. Don’t be silly?”
She looked at me skeptically even as I tried to parse why I’d added a question mark to the end of that sentence.
I sighed and caved. “Maybe a little. Why didn’t you?”
She chuckled. “Besides the fact that it would kill Mel and would make us pariahs in the neighborhood if anyone found out, I didn’t want to.”
“But the idea so turns you on,” I insisted.
She stopped brushing and flipped her hair back over her shoulders. I stared at her teardrop breasts. “It does?”
“Last night –“
“Forget about last night,” she interrupted. “That was us playing a game.”
“Okay, then what about today?”
“Huh?”
“Today? When you spun out all those scenarios? Me betting you. You flouncing around in your cheerleader outfit. Me making a beer run and leaving you alone. You obviously gave a lot of thought to how you might end up screwing Herb. Those all came from you.”
She laughed. Seeing my hurt expression, she softened and approached me. She placed a soft hand on my chest. “Oh, Bill, those didn’t come from me. They came from the Internet. I told you I researched our, um, situation.”
“Huh?” I said in my turn.
“Wife as escort. Picking up guys in a bar. Betting the wife. Wife seduces friend. Husband goes on beer run or work call. All popular cuck… hotwife scenarios. That’s your fantasy right? I’m a hotwife who can’t get enough.”
“I… I’m not sure I get it.”
She grinned. She made circles on my chest with her fingertip. “I fuck your boss for a promotion. We take a second honeymoon in Jamaica and I get seduced and taken by a wildly hung, black stud. We go camping and I get gangbanged by a bunch of young, buff hikers. Shall I go on?”
I wished she would. As she’d listed the scenarios, I caught a glimpse of each in my mind. Searing hot flashes of my gorgeous spouse in a series of disturbing, yet glorious, compromising situations.
“But, it’s not just fantasies. Chuck—“
“Chucky. Jean-Pierre. Brian. And yes, I fantasize about other men. And yes, I understand that you have given me permission to pursue those fantasies. Maybe I will. I’m not saying no. But it is not all about me. It is also about you, and what you want. And about us. The minute we bring others into it, things get complicated. But when it is just us, we can be anything.”
“I know, but –“
“It isn’t either or. Just because we have bedroom games, doesn’t mean I won’t….”
She trailed off and looked at me expectantly. I didn’t quite know how to proceed.
She filled the silence. “Do you want to be Herb who comes by Monday to check on me when I’m working from home?”
I shook my head. I’d had enough of Herb.
“Or maybe you’re a cop who offers me a very special way to avoid a speeding ticket.”
I swallowed hard.
“Or maybe,” she said with a grin, “maybe you’re a burglar who walks in on me like this.”
My eyes scanned her nearly naked body hungrily. She smirked.
“Please, please, Mister,” she whined miserably. “I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll do anything you say. Just don’t hurt me and don’t wake the children.”
“Terri—“
“If you know my name, you must know my husband is out of town. He can’t help me… or stop you. I won’t resist. You can do anything you want to me.”
It was so tempting to force her to her knees, roughly fuck her face with my hard prick. Order her to drape herself over the bed. Make her beg for me to fuck her up the ass.
It wasn’t just tempting. It was… what she wanted. Or something close enough. If it wasn’t her actually fantasy, it was an echo that we could share. But it just felt wrong. I couldn’t do that to her.
I took her in my arms.
“Shh, not tonight,” I muttered.
“Nothing?” she asked.
I laughed. “I didn’t say that.”
I pulled her over toward the bed and turned out the lights. I kicked off my jeans and sweatshirt and we slid beneath the covers, nestled close together in the warm embrace of our thick, flannel sheets.
I kissed her gently. She pressed her body against me. I relished the sensation of her soft, heavy breasts mashed against my chest. She kissed me more passionately. I wondered if she was thinking of me or another man. I drove that thought from my mind. Not now. Not tonight. Even if she was with another man, I was going to be with her.
I loved the way she kissed. Her lips were so soft, her tongue delicate and playful, but then a gasp and a sudden hunger would burst through and for a moment it felt like she wanted to devour me. And then the tenderness would return.
I slid my hand into her panties and squeezed her firm ass. She ground against me. I could feel the heat from her shaved pussy against my erect shaft. Her hands were on my head, in my hair. I slid my hand between her legs from behind, my fingers dipping into her slick wetness. She moaned into my mouth.
She yanked at my boxers. We broke our embrace long enough for me to strip naked, and when we pressed together again, I found she’d also shed her panties. I pulled her on top of me. We kissed deeper. She squirmed against me, her hard nipples tickling my chest, her wet slit rubbing against my prick. I explored her body, relishing her slender form, her tiny waist, the curve of her hips, the firmness of her ass. She nuzzled into the crook of my neck, kissing, licking, moist, excited gasps in my ear.
She edged upward, and my cock slipped between her legs. Then downward again and I was inside her. She moaned softly. For me, heaven on earth as her tight, hot sleeve enveloped my shaft.
I slowly churned inside her. Our kissing becoming more urgent, deeper. She ground against me, harder, harder. She threw her head back and I kissed her neck. I fel
t her pussy squeeze my cock. I thrust into her harder, and a moment later I finished as well.
She collapsed on top of me. I knew that she, like me, had a big smile on her face.
That should have been enough for anyone, shouldn’t it? Then why wasn’t it?
***
My alarm woke me up early the next morning. The holiday season was officially over, and I had a hectic day of meetings ahead of me. I took a moment to look at over my wife. Asleep, she looked like an angel.
I rose and crept into the bathroom. I liked to set my alarm a few minutes early to give myself more time in the shower. Part of it was that I liked to shave in the shower, but even more I just liked to stand under the hot water, letting it flow over me, cleansing, relaxing. I’d even sprung for an extra-high-capacity water heater a couple of years back to enable my habit.
By the time I got out, Terri was up. She was standing in her closet, going through her outfits. I liked to watch her, trying to imagine what was going through her mind with each. I knew any and all of them would look amazing on her. But then again, you could dress her in a burlap sack and she’d still turn heads.
“Morning, Honey,” she said.
I kissed her neck. “What’s your day like?”
She shrugged. “You’re tied up all day, right?”
When I nodded, she continued. “So, short day for me. I’ll get the kids. I have a staff meeting and then I’ll probably need to do some work tonight after they’re down.”
She laughed and held up a clingy, long-sleeved, black dress with a ruffled, Jabot collar, which I always found oddly sexy.
“So no hanky panky?” I teased.
“We could try multitasking. But even at our most married-people-sex level of passion, I think I’d have trouble focusing on effective long-term disability planning.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I mumbled.
“What?”
“Last night. You know. You wanted to play, and I gave you married-people-sex.”
She laughed. “I gave you married-people-sex back.”
“But you wanted more.”
She shrugged. “I had fun. We are, you know, married people, even though we don’t always act that way.”