The Hobby Job: A Romantic Wife-Watching Novel

by Arnica Butler

He sighed.

  I propped myself up on my elbow. “Are you having regrets?”

  Conrad really had to think about this. I could see that.

  Obviously – obviously by how steel-hard his cock was, he was getting off on all of this. But something wasn't quite right with him.

  “God,” I said. “You really think I did all that.”

  I flopped onto the bed.

  The relief seemed to well up inside of him. He had been rigid, lying there, and he seemed almost to melt into the bed.

  I grabbed a stray pillow with my right hand and crossed it over my body to hit him on the face. He chuckled. I blew air out of my mouth. “Conrad, jeez. I can't believe you believed me.”

  He stopped laughing.

  “You were very convincing,” he said. He was almost defensive.

  I pulled the pillow away from his face. I wanted to keep this from getting too serious.

  “This is what I'm worried about,” I said. “About actually going...you know. All the way.”

  His face became serious. “Me too,” he told the ceiling.

  I looked at his face, searching for his thoughts.

  “It's just...you didn't have to be such a fake slut right off the bat,” he said.

  “I thought it was hot?”

  “It was.”

  I made an exasperated sound and flopped onto my back again.

  Conrad narrowed his eyes.

  “How'd you know all that...stuff, anyway?”

  “What stuff? How to suck cock?” I rolled my eyes.

  “No, like what to say.”

  I had a confession to make. After Conrad had revealed his secret fantasies to me, I had done what anyone does these days. Instead of talking to a friend – because it was just too wild – I had consulted the internet.

  And then I had dug through his computer files.

  In my former, professional life, I was a consultant. This was my old job: digging through things and getting a picture of what people really wanted and really needed. From the things they did, every day. Finding all the tell-tale signs of what they actually wanted, not what they said they wanted. It made me a good consultant. And it made me a good non-fiction writer.

  “I researched you,” I told him. Conrad chuckled, his mood instantly lightened. He should have known, his laugh was saying. I was glad he didn't seem to miffed about it. “Shouldn't you be asking me, what really happened with Nate?”

  His laughter stopped and his eyes flapped open wide. It was funny to me that he hadn’t even considered this question. I had been gone a long time. I had come home wet as hell, and ready to go. Something had happened tonight.

  He turned to me. “What did happen?”

  I paused. It was a pretty mundane truth, after what I had just told him.

  I laughed lightly.

  “We waited for a cab from one to three. None ever came. Nate decided he had sobered up.”

  Conrad opened his mouth to protest.

  “He really didn't have that much.”

  “And you kissed.”

  I paused. I had decided, before I even gave in to anything with Nate, that I would have to be honest with Conrad.

  But it was kind of hard to get going with saying the truth, as opposed to a made-up story I was just using to turn him on. “Well...not exactly just kissing.”

  I watched Conrad's face carefully, because it was his reaction – and whether it was genuinely okay with this or not – that was important to me.

  “We sort of...made out.” A giggle escaped me. “Oh god, it sounds so adolescent.”

  Conrad, though, had rolled back toward me and his eyes were dilated with interest. He started to trail his hand down my body, lightly. I felt his cock twitching against my thigh.

  “Tell me more details,” he said.

  “They're...not going to compare to the scene I just described.”

  His fingers arrived at my sex, and he began to work his way inside of me. His thumb stroked my clit, right on the sensitive bundle of nerves protruding from my swollen button, and it was like he struck a match.

  “Okay so,” I said. “We left the club and we were both pretty turned on.”

  “Why?”

  I closed my eyes. Conrad's fingers were inside of me now, probing, feeling for the underside of my clit so he could make me squirm.

  “I sat on Nate's lap all evening, that part was true. His cock was hard, but not because he was looking at the girls. And we just…did that thing, you know, where we came close to kissing but didn't, and I just sort of teased him. Flipped my hair around.” I smiled. “Sort of wriggled on his lap so I knew I was...like, moving around on his cock, right?”

  It was incredible to me that Conrad seemed even more turned on by this PG-13 description of the evening than the XXX-rated one I had given him a few minutes ago. He curled his fingers upward and clawed at the rawest part of me. I sucked in my breath, unable to speak for a moment as a wave of ecstasy rolled over me.

  “And then, you know...the stripper really did come and talk to us about that...maybe not so…directly...but it was…a conversation.” Conrad had his thumb on my clit again, and he was pressing it from the inside of me. “Oh god,” I breathed.

  “Keep going,” he growled.

  It was so hot seeing him like this. Hungry again, the way you are when you first start fucking, or even before that. When nobody knows, yet, what they're going to get, or if they're going to get anything. Everything edgy and bright.

  “So we were really heated up,” I said.

  “You were too?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You were wet?”

  I let a moan escape me, because he pinched my clit at that precise moment and sent an almost too-intense jolt through me. “I was..I was really wet.”

  “So you're outside.”

  “Mmmhmmm….oh god.” I could feel my orgasm building, knotting up in my abdomen. I could scarcely concentrate on what Conrad was saying.

  “And then what?”

  “I...I don't...” my voice trailed off. I was so close.

  Conrad stopped and the disappointment slammed inside of me. I opened my eyes.

  “Tell the story,” he said.

  “And then...he did some thing where he tried to, I don't know, wrestle a piece of paper from my hand, and then he had me backed up against the wall, and we looked at each other...and then we kissed.”

  He began to move his hand slowly.

  “Oh god, Conrad.” But he was staring at me. Keep talking.

  “And so...then we started to kiss, and he had me...pressed up against the...the...” I was losing it again.

  “The wall. And could you feel his cock?”

  “Mmmhmmm.”

  “And was it big?”

  “It...I put my hand on it...over his...over his jeans...and it was big. It's big.”

  This drove Conrad insane. He rolled on top of me, and I grimaced as he withdrew his hand just seconds before I would have gone over the edge. But his cock was inside me soon enough, filling the void, and he began to thrust inside of me, deep and hard.

  “Where did he touch you?”

  “On my...fuck...on my, I let him get his hands just on my underwear. Over the top, not...”

  But whatever else I was going to say was lost, as the lust coiling up inside me unwound suddenly, and shook me harder than ever before. I screamed into Conrad's shoulder, and held on to him as he pounded into me, harder and harder, until I felt his warm cum inside of me.

  S ERIOUS NOW

  CONRAD

  “So I'm serious now.”

  “Me, too.”

  “One hundred percent honesty.”

  “Okay.”

  I was in the shower, and I was staring at the tiles at the back of it. Was I about to do what I was about to do?

  Fucking Laura last night had been the hottest sex I had ever had or imagined having in my entire life. And it had been pretty clear that she had liked it, too. And she had admitted to going over t
he line – though disappointingly, not as far as she first told me.

  About that. It had grated pretty painfully while she told that outrageous story. Of course it was so incredibly hot that my cock had taken over, but I felt pretty sure I would have been bothered by it today, if it had all been true.

  And that's because...well, I knew it was because it would have meant Laura was out of my control. And I hadn't gotten to see it. And so it wasn't really my fantasy anymore.

  I found my mouth moving and saying all of this without me really even authorizing it. I spat it out sort of robotically.

  “I know this isn't really fair but...I dunno. I want to ask you to do it someplace I can see it, and it's sort of about, me not being cut out of the picture, having some control over things, you know?”

  Silence on the other side of the curtain.

  Oh no.

  Was she pissed?

  “Do you still actually want to do it?” I said. “You're attracted to him right?”

  Laura threw the curtain back with a scrape of the curtain rings. “So...you want to watch, is that it?”

  I knew my cock was hard, just thinking about this. I looked down and Laura’s eyes followed mine.

  She tossed her hair again.

  “Okay. Honesty,” she said.

  There was a long, terrible pause while I waited for her.

  “I want to do it,” she said softly. “It's just...”

  Her face was serious. And then, just as I started to despair, I saw the corner of her lip shake a little. Holding back a smile. “I have no idea how we can arrange it so you can watch it.”

  She reached into the shower, and grasped my cock. Her hand began to move up and down my shaft, stroking me, as she kept talking. “So you tell me, because I found all this stuff on your computer, like I said...tell me if I'm right? You want me to suck his cock and look at you while I'm doing it? That's the thing you want to see the most, isn't it?”

  Fuck.

  Her words almost slammed an orgasm through me by themselves. Her hand was stroking me quickly now. She smiled. “That's it, isn't it. You can tell by the videos.” She looked down at my cock and watched herself stroking me for a moment. “What I can't figure out, so you need to help me, is whether you want to see his cum all over my face, or you want me to swallow?”

  She moved her hand up and down my shaft, slowly at first. Her eyes were on mine, burning right into me. She was serious now, I could tell. She was thinking of him, thinking of sucking him off, and she was looking at me. She stroked harder as I tensed up, her eyes blazing with exactly what I wanted to see: desire for me, while thinking of another man. I yelled as my cum surged up from deep inside and exploded, splashing all over the tiled wall.

  Laura giggled, washed her hand in the shower stream, and closed the curtain. “Get back to me on that. I have to think of a way to make this work.”

  It was just then that I got it: the hobby job Laura had had shifted, from being a waitress to doing something more akin to her old line of work. She had analyzed my fantasy, researched it, and now she was going to make things happen.

  It took me a few moments to recover. My ears were pulsing with the remnants of my orgasm. The sound of the shower was a dull roar in my ears.

  “So,” Laura said, and the hollowed-out sound in her mouth indicated she was brushing her teeth. “I was looking into this on the internet, and it seems like...you know, some people just ask the guy, the...what is he called?”

  My insides twisted. The idea of Laura on the internet, in the middle of the day, “looking this up,” was recalling my drained cock to new action. I pressed my hand on the tile and steadied myself. “The bull,” I managed to say.

  “Yeah, the bull,” Laura said, and spit. “They just ask the guy to do it. I just...I dunno. Do you think I could do that with Nate, though? Like just say, hey, I've been flirting with you because my husband wants to watch me with you, so will you come over and be the bull?” She was a little giggly by the end of her sentence.

  I opened the shower curtain. “You're kidding, right?” I said.

  She looked at me. The toothbrush was still in her mouth and she moved it with deep sexual innuendo. “What? No, I'm serious.”

  I sighed. Women.

  “This guy is what, twenty-three?” I said. My cock started to throb again, thinking of Eliza and Troy. “If you say, 'hey, I want to give you a blowjob,' and then follow it up with twenty minutes of chatter about how you want to do it, whatever it is, like, elephants and circus clowns or...whatever...he's going to hear: 'Hey, I want to give you a blowjob.'”

  Laura turned to the sink and spit again. “I dunno...” she said, dubiously.

  I turned off the shower.

  “I know,” I said, stepping out and reaching for her hips. I pulled her toward me. “You just tell him what you want, and he'll do it.” I started to pull her camisole down her shoulders.

  She looked at me, and her doubts were still evident in her face. “So, I just say...”

  I worked my hand underneath her shirt, and reached behind her to pull her closer. “You just say, 'I'll have sex with you, but my husband has to watch.' And he'll be like, 'whatever turns you on.'”

  Laura gave me an incredulous look.

  “And if he doesn't?”

  “Please.”

  She laughed. “You would do that?” She squirmed away from me.

  I was thinking how to answer, but my wife's hawk-like eyes missed nothing.

  “Ahhhhh,” she said, turning back to the sink to pour herself some mouthwash. “So you have done it.”

  I shrugged. “I was young.” I grabbed a towel. I was dripping all over the floor.

  Laura swished mouthwash around in her mouth and eyed me through the mirror.

  I stood behind her, so she could feel my erection through her clothing, against her ass. “We are all the same,” I purred.

  She nearly didn't manage to get the mouthwash in the sink when she laughed.

  “Oh my god.” She looked back up at the mirror. Then she shrugged. “This is really what you want to do?”

  I pressed into her. She laughed again.

  “Okay...then I'll ask him, Thursday.”

  I said nothing, just moved my hand up her shirt.

  “And then I guess...we'll see. So what do I do after that?”

  We looked at each other.

  She turned around to face me. “Hotel,” she said, and I nodded. “Definitely.”

  She moved her hand down to my erect cock, and smiled as she began to stroke me. “You're sure it will work?”

  “Sure.”

  We kissed, and I started to push her back into the bedroom.

  “Conrad, jesus,” she said, but her voice was teasing.

  And then she said the words that sliced me with the most delicious, painful, sweet cut I can remember having in my life.

  “Think you can get a sitter for Thursday night?”

  H OW THINGS WORK OUT

  LAURA

  By the time I got Nate alone in the pantry, I had suffered for a half an hour waiting tables with everything that was about to happen looming over me, twisting up my insides. Conrad had indeed gotten a sitter, and then a hotel, and the plan was all in place. I had dressed in front of him, enjoying the tantalizing agony he was enduring as I chose my underwear, as I put on my shirt.

  The excitement, for both of us, was almost too much to bear.

  He chose the color of my lipstick, advised me on my hair. Dressing me up, almost like a doll, for the evening ahead.

  There's an intellectual part of me, of course, that wanted to find this...well, a little bit fucked.

  But there was a more primal thing inside of me that loved it. I loved the idea of finally feeling the weight of Nate's hard body, his cock inside of me – but as a sexual act, separate, really, from Nate and me, and more as an act on Conrad himself.

  My underwear were wet before I even got in the car.

  The sitter was there on time, and C
onrad drove me to The Pied Piper. No talking, just this really heavy, intense tension between us.

  I put my hand on the doorhandle. “Last chance,” I said. “Unless Nate won't do it,” I added with a laugh.

  Conrad was silent. He wanted this, I knew, as much as I did. But there was still a lingering worry – and maybe this is what made it so enticing – that it would all go wrong somehow. That it wasn't the right choice for our marriage.

  He gave his head a slight shake.

  “I'll be there,” he said. “But if you change your mind, at any time...”

  We kissed. I could feel it snap through him like a wave of energy.

  And then I was there, trying to get Nate in the back where I could tell him my idea.

  Nate was turning it on, hard. He came up behind me in the pantry, and his hard chest was hot against my back. I could feel his cock was already a little hard. “I missed you last week,” he whispered.

  I led him on for a bit. Maybe because it was fun, maybe because I was nervous about actually doing this – once I proposed it to him, it would be pretty hard to get out of. I had some real...I don't know, shaky moments. Moments where I was convinced, just for a second, that I should call the whole thing off.

  But the truth, at least deep down inside of me, was that I wanted it.

  And the other truth was that it was all made sweeter by the faint possibility that it could all go wrong. Something about it being at the edge of everything, pushing against the safe, comfortable limits of our relationship, made it all that much more appealing.

  9:30. Lorraine cut me, and I went back to finish up my sidework. Nate passed by, raised an eyebrow, and I used my head to tell him to head to the freezer.

  He joined me a minute later. He made some corny joke about warming me up and pushed me against the wall.

  It felt so good to be able to give into him. Fuck, he was hot. I let myself get carried away for a second, pushing my hand up his shirt to feel his sculpted and chest.

  “Can you go out tonight?” he said.

  This was the moment. I smiled at him, surprising even myself with the devious, coquettish smile I gave him. I bit my lip and fluttered my eyes, savoring the disappointment dripping down his face. My mind was suddenly ahead of me, planning out the next moves in the conversation like it was a presentation.