Hot Dates 3: Consequences of Being a Shared Wife

by Kirsten McCurran

  Hot Dates 3:

  Consequences of Being a Shared Wife

  Kirsten McCurran

  HOT DATES 3: CONSEQUENCES OF BEING A SHARED WIFE

  © 2016 Aphrodite Omnimedia. All Rights Reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced for distribution by any means physical, mechanical or electronic without the explicit written permission of the copyright holder.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and locations are fictitious or used fictitiously.

  Cover Image ©alex kolupaev. Licensed from Bigstock.

  Cover design by Kenny Wright.

  First edition published digitally April 2016.

  one

  I stared at the plans spread out before me on the drafting table, but all the lines kept blurring together. Even though my office door was closed, the muffled noise from the construction site beyond was irritating me. Even the music coming from the Bluetooth speaker on my desk was annoying, and it was the Eagles—one of the most innocuous rock bands on the planet. It had become increasingly difficult to concentrate over the past few days as I’d come to the conclusion that my wife was cheating on me.

  It’s not quite fair to say cheating. Can she ever really be cheating if I encouraged her to sleep with other men? But after her last date, over a month ago, Dana said she thought we should take a break from all that. I agreed, albeit reluctantly, because things seemed to be getting out of control. This new lifestyle was taking on a life of its own and leading us to places we’d never anticipated. So we’d taken a break. I did not think it would be a permanent break. I’m pretty sure neither of us wants that. But I thought before Dana started going out again we would talk about it. We have not talked, and now I think Dana has started without me.

  I run my own construction business, and I can say I’m pretty successful without bragging. I started with one pick-up, doing small jobs, and now I flip houses and do new construction. I was one of the few people to leverage the housing crash into even more success. I work long hours and I work hard, and that allows Dana to stay home and take care of the kids. She does some bookkeeping for the business, but mostly she takes care of the house and the kids. Dana keeps busy running errands most days—she doesn’t just sit around all day spending my money—but mostly she’s always been reachable. For the last week or so, she hasn’t been.

  I text my wife, she doesn’t get back to me for hours. I call her, it goes straight to voicemail. Any husband would be getting suspicious, but I have extra reason to. I haven’t called her on it because I’m afraid of what she’ll tell me. If Dana said she is out there fucking again, we can work through that it’s what we both want—with certain conditions met. But if Dana is screwing around and she lied to me about it, I don't know how I’d handle that. It would make me think I’ve lost the woman I loved and destroyed my marriage. And deep down, I know I really have no one to blame but myself.

  When they say be careful what you wish for, they are speaking wisdom. For years, I had the fantasy of watching my wife with other men. It always made me feel weird, like an outcast, like I was less than a man. What kind of a man wants other men to fuck his wife, let alone be there to watch it? There’s a name for men like that—cuckolds. And I found plenty of cuckold videos on the internet, but that wasn’t what I wanted. I am a man. I never wanted to be humiliated and laughed at. I don’t have a tiny cock. And I can take care of my wife in bed quite well, thank you. I just got off on the idea of seeing Dana losing all her inhibitions and finding her inner slut while I watched.

  Research on the internet taught me there is a name for this called hotwife, or hotwifing. A hotwife sleeps with other men, but it’s about her pleasure and finding her inner sexual goddess. It’s also about fulfilling her husband’s fantasy, but it’s not about humiliating him. When I learned about hotwives, I finally worked up the nerve to tell Dana about my fantasy. She was very surprised to learn this about me after over a decade of marriage, but being the amazing, loving woman she’s always been, Dana took it in stride and after thinking about it she agreed to do some experimenting.

  Over the course of months, flirting with other men turned to Dana hooking up and giving blowjobs, and finally she began sleeping with other men. I can’t describe the excitement I felt when I watched my sweet, pretty wife from across some bar, all dolled up and ready for fun. Of course men would hit on her, and if she liked them she would flirt back. My heart pounded and my palms got clammy as I watched Dana get closer and closer to another man, hoping this would be the one. My stomach would start to churn and there would be a quiver in my lip as she’d start casually touching someone to show her interest. Sometimes they would kiss at the bar, and I’d feel like my whole being was on fire.

  It’s difficult to describe the feeling that comes over me when I see Dana with someone else. My cock springs to life and I’m rock hard. I feel like I’ll come if I so much as touch myself. I get fidgety in my seat waiting for the next thing to happen. But at the same time, there’s no way to overcome millennia of evolution in your brain that screams this is your woman and no other man should be touching her. Everything you’ve been taught about what marriage is, about fidelity, comes blasting to the front of your brain. You know this is wrong, and yet it’s all you want. It’s these weird, mixed-up, crazy feelings that drive men with the hotwife fantasy. And every time Dana and I went out for what we called a Hot Date, I felt them all.

  Early on, Dana would find somewhere secluded to go with these guys. She might go out to the parking lot and slip into the car with them. I could creep up and watch. Seeing my Dana with another man’s hands all over her, watching her suck his cock, it turned my world upside down. I’ve always thought what I feel in those moments was just what an addict feels when he slides the needle into his arm. And I knew the ultimate fix would be to see her fuck someone. I also knew that would be nearly impossible as I was not prepared to sit off in the corner of the room while they did it. That felt too much like turning into a cuckold to me.

  Luckily, modern technology came to the rescue. Dana was able to use a little hidden camera to record her exploits. She would come home and give me my prize and I couldn’t wait to watch that video. And like any addict, I wanted more. I took a condo I’d bought to flip and turned it into a love nest for my wife, with every room wired for sound and high-definition video. The cameras were hidden, so she could bring “home” anyone she wanted. It was all too perfect.

  Over time, things changed, as I should have expected. I welcomed some of the changes. I loved Dana’s new confidence, the sexy new outfits she bought. At first I even loved that she was going out for Hot Dates more often. But then she acquired regular lovers. The first was a younger man named Zach. Then she met a hard partying cop. I’d never figured on my wife having relationships with other men. I’d always envisioned one night stands. But I had to allow Dana to fulfill her needs, as well as mine, so as long as I kept getting my videos I went with it. Even as these other men began to have as much influence over my wife as I did, I let it go, because I was still getting my fix.

  But then the break came. It was probably a good idea, but I went into withdrawal quickly. Even though our sex life stayed as robust as ever, I watched Dana’s old videos every time I was alone. I prayed the break would be short. And now it seemed that the break was over. Dana just hadn’t bothered to tell me. Or I was being paranoid. Maybe I thought Dana was out screwing around because deep down I wanted her to be. Either way, I just wanted to know the truth.

  two

  I bit my lip and closed my eyes as I rocked back and forth on Zach. My hands were on his arms and my cheek was pressed to his. The clean sc
ent of Irish Spring filled my nostrils. That, and the sharp smell of sex. His hands rested on my naked butt—my lacy gray panties were crumpled on his desk beside his chunky black glasses—and his calloused fingers tapped on my flesh matching our sexual rhythm. My boots were planted on the floor and I controlled our motion by rocking my hips.

  “Oh, Zach,” I whimpered, as he pressed even deeper inside me. I kissed his neck and my fingers roughed his unruly dark-brown hair. I heard the wet sounds of our coupling as I became completely drenched.

  We were supposed to be meeting for lunch. It was one of the three days of the week Zach was in his office, so I met him there. Yes, it was just supposed to be lunch, but I knew there was the possibility we would just end up at his place, and I dressed to entice. The short, black and gray sweater dress did not quite meet my knees, but my shiny black riding boots did. The dress hugged my curves in the most flattering way possible, though at that moment it was pushed up around my waist.

  Zach pushed his office door closed the second he saw me. He had to have me, which I supposed was the effect I was going for. It’s a rush at thirty-six to know that a hot guy a decade younger than me can’t keep his hands off of me. My husband still feels the same way too, but it’s just not the same. My auburn hair was down—it’s just an inch past my shoulders—and Zach swept his fingers underneath it to tingle my neck when he pulled me in for a kiss at the door. He’s tall, and I had to lean up a little, even with the heels on my boots.

  “Why are you always so goddam hot?” he’d asked, pulling me into the small office. It was only a couple feet wider than his desk, and not much longer. Frosted glass walls separated him from his office mates, while a brick wall kept the outside world at bay. The offices were in a converted loft space.

  “Because I always want you to fuck me,” I whispered between kisses.

  I loved playing the naughty MILF role. It was one of the things that most excited me about these games Dave and I played. It had all been my husband’s idea at first, but I found I took to it easily. Instead of being a cute, but boring, suburban mom, the good wife, I was a sultry, sexual being out on the prowl when I went out to meet other men. I had never felt my life with Dave was lacking anything, but when I started going out it was like I was rediscovering a part of myself. Being so desired, knowing I could have who I wanted, was intoxicating.

  Zach had steered me behind his desk and sat me on the edge. His hand went under my dress and I naturally spread my legs. I reached for his jeans and found he was already growing hard. Zach has a nice long, thick cock. I love how it feels when he fills me. It’s not better than my husband, just different. Zach rubbed me through my lacy panties, quickly forming a damp spot. He does not have to touch me much to get me wet. I was excited just getting ready to see him. I wrestled with his belt and then pushed down his jeans. I don’t think I was in his office for five minutes before he was pulling down my panties and pulling me onto his lap on his chair.

  We kissed frantically and then I pulled off his lap. It ached to be empty, but I knew he was about to fill me again. I turned, presenting him my round, firm butt, and gripped the edge of his desk. Zach scooted the chair forward and pulled me back onto his lap. He speared my swollen lips and a throaty moan escaped my lips, despite my attempts to be quiet. I’m not great at being silent during sex, especially when it’s so good.

  My thighs were pressed together and he held my hips to pull me back onto him. I was biting my lip, but that was not going to cut it. I was squeezed so tight that he felt impossibly large, and every time he thrust into me his head dragged along my g-spot. I wanted to scream with every thrust. The jingle of my Pandora bracelet caught my attention and I looked down at my left hand to see the spot where my wedding rings should have been. I suffered a pang of guilt, but it was quickly washed away by a wave of pleasure.

  Zach thought I was called “Dani” and that I was single. Early on, Dave and I decided I would take on a persona when I went out on my Hot Dates. I had come up with several of them, but I had been Dani—freshly divorced and new to the area—when I met Zach. I even had a burner phone for him to text me. It was important to keep this away from our normal lives. We did not want any of the men I met following me home.

  It was a good thing the office beyond us was bustling, because the sounds of our sex were growing. My moans were getting intense and I heard Zach’s little grunts from behind me. His chair was squeaking with our motion. I was surprised it did not roll out from under him.

  I rushed toward my climax and within a couple minutes I was coming, biting the side of my hand to keep quiet, but the muffled cries were still pretty loud. My head was spinning and I got dizzy for a moment, the way I always do when I come that hard—I just notice more when I’m not on my back. I felt my juices staining my thighs.

  “Oh god,” I finally sighed, taking my fist from my mouth. I’d left a nice set of teeth marks.

  Zach kept fucking me through my orgasm, still hard. I usually come more easily than he does. But I knew he had to be getting close, so I reluctantly pulled off of him again and went to my knees behind his desk, like the good little whore I’d become. I was not prepared with condoms—they were at his place—and I would not let him come inside me bareback. I am on the Pill, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. He smiled down at me as I held his wet cock and stuffed it into my mouth. Tasting myself on him just turned me on more, and I reached down to rub my clit. I still felt the vibrations of the last orgasm and I knew I could make myself come again.

  “Fuck, Dani. Shit!” Zach groaned. A hairband held back my hair and he looked right down at me as my rust colored lipstick smeared on his shaft.

  I did that thing I do with my tongue and he started shooting right into my mouth. The thick wad covered my tongue and I hungrily swallowed it all. I was never one of those dainty girls who doesn’t swallow, but I’d really learned to love it since I’d become a hotwife. I came again right after he did and was glad I had his dick in my mouth to muffle my cries. After my tremors finished, I sat back on my heels and made a show of licking my wet fingers clean.

  “What moron divorced you?” he chuckled.

  “You just know the fun side of me, babe. You have no idea what I’m like to live with. I could be a nightmare,” I said.

  “That’s only because you won’t let me know more, Dani.” He reached past me and took his glasses off the desk.

  I stood and smoothed the sweater dress down over my thighs. My panties went into my purse. The dress was short, but not too short if I was careful. I took the travel-size mouthwash out of my purse and did a quick swish and had no choice but to swallow it.

  “You know the deal. I love what we have, but I’m not ready for anything more.” I bent over and kissed him sweetly.

  “I can always hold out hope.”

  Zach had always been hard to hold at arm’s length. He did want more, and he was sweet and smart, the kind of guy I’d love to meet if I really was single. But I am a married woman. I love my husband and have no interest in leaving him. I’d been a sporadic part of Zach’s life over the past year, disappearing for months at a time before responding to his texts again. I knew my feelings for him could turn into something real and I did not want that complication, so when things got too close I shut him down and went on other dates. But since I was supposed to be on a break I’d been seeing Zach more often. This was the second time in the same week—unheard of!

  The break from dating had been my idea. I was out with another man, Carlos, and it had gotten so crazy and intense that it scared me. I was afraid being a hotwife was turning me into someone I did not want to be. And I knew Dave had concerns, but he was too addicted to my activities to stop me. I was not going to start dating again until we had a serious talk, but that did not come easy to Dave, so we had not had the talk and we were still supposed to be on the break. It had been almost two months.

  I fully intended to stick with the break, but I was out one day and ran into Zach and I could not re
sist going back to his place. I missed the other men as much as Dave did, but in a different way. I missed being that other woman—the MILF on the prowl. I insisted it would be a one-time slip and that I would tell Dave, but I didn’t. I saw Zach again and I began recording our sessions again, knowing Dave would forgive me when I gave him his precious videos. I didn’t get to record this encounter—Zach snatched me up too quickly to get the camera set. But it had been six times now and I still did not tell Dave. Every time I fucked Zach in secret made it worse and I was unprepared for the fight. I kept telling myself, This time I’ll tell Dave.

  “Where do you want to get lunch?” Zach asked, pulling me back into the present.

  I grabbed my handbag from his desk and smiled at him. “You already fed me, so you get to pick.”

  ~~~

  I checked my phone as I walked back to the garage after Zach dropped me off and he went back to work. I noted the admiring glances of the men who passed me on the city street and that gave me a special glow. I’ve always liked attention, something that I think Dave instilled in me early on in our marriage. Long before he confessed his hotwife fantasy to me, he’d always made it known that he liked when I drew the attention of other men. So when we went out I always made sure to dress up specially for him, and whoever else might want to look. It made me feel sexy and encouraged me to stay fit, even though two pregnancies. Men looking at me had always given me a charge, but it meant something more now that I knew I could do something about it if I chose. That is, if we weren’t on a break.

  There were several texts on my phone from Dave. I’d left it on vibrate because I had to know if the school was calling, but otherwise I did not want to be disturbed while I was with Zach. I’d noticed Dave had taken to texting me more often during the day, using lame excuses, and I couldn’t help feeling that he was testing me. My husband is not a stupid man. He may have begun to suspect something. I could not stall him much longer. When I got to the car I texted him back.