A happily-married couple embarks on a series of wife-sharing adventures.
Rebecca is a shy and happily-married wife who is shocked when her husband begins to fantasize about her being with other men. Events begin innocently at first, with a few acts of role play and public sex. But after each episode her husband's desires escalate.
As the work progresses personal issues - the loss of a job, a bully client, a clinging ex-boyfriend and some pretty scary guys who hang out at the local bar - begin to invade, and then blend into, the couple's new lifestyle. Soon, Rebecca flourishes and casts off the sexual stereotypes and standards that she was raised on and becomes a willing hotwife. As her mate's imagination turns toward obsession, she learns to engage in her own sensual fantasies with a variety of colorful partners - all for her husbands benefit, of course.
Written with subtle humor and an all-but-subtle eroticism, the work is a sexy investigation into the increasingly popular lifestyle of the Hotwife Couple.
EXTRACT
I hadn’t been to an adult store before. It took my husband; Billy, a
month to convince me that it would be okay. I don’t know why I was so
worried about it. Maybe because I’d always been shy and easy to
embarrass. I was horrified by thoughts that a neighbor would catch us
there. Or that the police would raid the place and I’d be arrested and
my dad would find out. Silly stuff, I know.
Eventually, Billy convinced me that, after being married for
over six years, wanting to take me to an adult store was a good thing.
So, one Sunday afternoon, I agreed to go. While Billy cleaned up our
lunch dishes, I went upstairs to fix up. At first I thought I’d just
try to blend in with some jeans and a ratty shirt. But then, I decided
to dress for my husband, in a uniform more suitable to our pending
shopping adventure. I wore a thin, white blouse with material so soft
that the simple motion of walking caused my uncapped nipples to
enlarge and erect. Beneath that, a black mini-skirt to show that my
long legs were bound by dark nylons.
I paused, glazing at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were
wider than they should have been. So wide, I thought, that people
probably figured that I was in a constant state of surprise. At first
I strung my long, brown hair down across the front of my top. As
though, somehow, the hair would draw attention away from my breasts.
Eventually, I decided to tie it back. A little makeup later and I was
heading back to Billy.
Soon, we were at Silvia’s Pleasure Emporium which was tucked
into the seedier side of the city. The place was dark, lit mainly by
dim, overhead, neon lights. Which was good because it helped to hide
the soiled carpet that had most of the green stepped out of it. One
side of the store was full of vibrators, creams, strap-ons, and other
tools and toys. The other side, where we ended up browsing, was
stacked low with erotic movies.
The cashier was another woman – a young girl dressed entirely in
black and with so many piercings that a strong magnet would have
probably ripped her face apart. It was early afternoon, so there were
only a few customers. All men. All seemingly distracted by whatever
their next pleasure would be. Billy, with his neatly trimmed blonde
hair, six-foot-plus frame and boyish face, was the only one among them
with any sexual appeal at all.
Billy stopped at a DVD titled; “My First Blowjob,” featuring a
long haired blonde on the cover. Her mouth was opened almost wide
enough to take in her incredibly huge breasts. She was quite the
contrast to me with my dark hair and slim frame and a small shiver of
jealousy crept across my chest.
Billy picked up the DVD and seemed to examine the title more than the
blonde.
“Rebecca, do you remember giving your first blow job?” he
asked.
“Like it was yesterday!” I shot quickly, then whispered. “We
were in your car, driving down…”
“No…” He wagged his head. Then, again. “No.” Billy looked around
to see if anyone else could hear. “Not with me. Your first one.
Ever.”
Odd question, I thought. But, after so many years of marriage, I
didn’t mind that he wanted to pry a little.
“You know I started late. I was almost 19. It was pretty
embarrassing.”
Billy moved closer to me. So close that I could feel heat emanating
from his crotch.
“Well,” I began, “I was with my first real boyfriend, Jag. A
Musician. He was tall with a dark complexion. Italian, I think? His
hair was even longer than mine.” My words became more of a secret and
Billy leaned his ear toward my lips.
So I continued to tell him the story about how Jag and I had
been standing in his kitchen. How he’d given me a soft kiss at the
same moment that his hand led mine to his erection. I’d never touched
a cock before. But even through his jeans I could tell that his was
larger than most, and ready to go. I was so nervous. I hadn’t dared to
tell him that I was a virgin with no more sexual experience than a few
French kisses.
Jag helped me undo his fly and belt. Then I stepped back as he
wiggled his hips until his pants dropped to the floor. I became
excited, downright horny, when I saw his cock spring outward and up.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked Jag. It was a question
which experience has since proven to be a terrible one to ask a man
with a hard-on - unless you want a very honest answer.
Jag didn’t say a word. He just gently pushed down on my
shoulders until I was kneeling on the kitchen floor, looking directly
at his cock.
“What were you wearing?” Billy interrupted.
“Shorts. Cut-off jeans. A white t-shirt. No bra.” I couldn’t
really remember but that was a safe bet for those times.
Billy’s breath hastened as he motioned behind me.
“Back there,” he said.
He’d pointed to a small, cornered-off area in the store which
was about half the size of a restroom stall - barely large enough to
shield us from the cashier’s eyes. There was a spot that obviously
used to house a payphone, some graffiti on the walls and a large
bulletin board tacked full of sloppy notes from horny folks trying to
hook up.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked, immediately recognizing
that this question, too, was bound to get an honest answer. Billy
kissed me gently, then pushed my shoulders down until I was on my
knees.
I’d never engaged in any sort of public sex before. Even with
Billy. I didn’t really like the idea of getting caught. But I figured
it would be best if I cooperated completely – if only to get it all
over with as quickly as possible. I worked on his belt and fly until I
was able to tug both his pants and underwear down his thighs. His
erection met my lips and I kissed his staff, several times, as gently
as he had kissed me before. I reached one of my hands behind him to
grab at his exposed ass. With the other, I cradled his balls, holding
them steady as I licked their hair.
“Is this what you did? The first time?”
I stopped a moment and, with dreamy eyes, looked up at my
husband. “Yes, Billy. I was amazed at Jag’s cock and balls. I licked
every inch I could. I’m pretty sure he liked it.”
Billy moaned. Not too loud. But loud enough so that one of the
other patrons, a man in his late forties, could hear. The stranger
moved between two aisles and while he was clearly viewing us, he
pretended to be intrigued by the movie titles around him. I’d never
been watched before. Especially not by a stranger in an adult sex
store. A warm feeling began to emanate from my chest to my stomach and
I felt myself become wet with excitement. I didn’t know if it was
Billy’s cock, thoughts of Jag, the strange voyeur, or the combination
that swept away my inherent shyness. But, from then on, I lent an
occasional eye to the stranger watching me suck my husband’s dick.
My tongue explored Billy’s cock for a few more moments until
beads of pre-cum began to harden on the tip. Then, I looked up at my
husband.
“About then, Jag was pretty ready. So he pressed his hands
against my ears and pulled my mouth onto him.”
Just before Billy mimicked the action, I noted that our spy had
wrestled his hand into his pants and was furiously tugging at his own
cock.
My lips surrounded the head of Billy’s shaft as my tongue
circled the tip. He grew, fast and large, as I gobbled the rest of him
up. When Billy asked if I swallowed the first time, my mouth
repeatedly left his cock, just long enough for a few words to eek out
in a whisper.
“I tried…
“I didn’t know what…
`…to expect.` Billy’s hips jerked forward, urging me to
continue.
“I look the first bit…”
Billy moaned, low and long, then came, hard, as I gagged the
first of his load into my throat. Using my saliva, my hand stroked his
cock as it continued to pump.
“But I panicked…”
Billy thrust again, sending a long stream of semen across my
nose and down to my cheek.
“The rest hit my face.” I alternately ground my lips and cheeks
into Billy’s sagging cock until I’d absorbed all the juice it would
give. The man watching us also came, as witnessed by the dark puddle
that formed on his lap.
Billy, gasping for air, dressed while I cleaned up. We were out on
the parking lot soon after. All we bought from the store was that one
video – “My First Blowjob.” Though we would never actually watch it.
The car was quiet for awhile as Billy focused on the road. I was
surprised at his reaction to the story of my first blowjob. Not that I
minded. If it made him happy, and it didn’t involve pain or genocide,
why not? But, more, I was surprised at how wet I’d gotten in the
store. Not just because I was on my knees giving my husband a naughty,
little blowjob. But because a man I’d never seen before had so enjoyed
watching me do it.
It took a red light for Billy to finally speak again.
“That was the most incredible blowjob I’ve ever gotten.”
I blushed. Really. I turned bright red and couldn’t find the
words to reply. It was the nicest thing anyone, including my husband,
had ever said to me.
“Later,” he continued. “Will you tell me about the first time
you got laid?”
He asked so nicely and with a sweet stammer in his voice.
Before, I’d thought that the story about my first blowjob was a
natural event, simply brought on by the adult movie title. But, now, I
realized that there was a lot more to it than that.
My mind raced with words, all jumbled. I’d never told anyone
about the sex that I’d had with Jag. Or with anyone else. It was all
so long ago. My memories of those times were buried so deep. Did Billy
really want me to dig them all up again? Would he, somehow, hold them
against me if I did? Could our relationship risk his becoming jealous
of the way that men used to fuck me?
