Hot Wives Gone Wild Page 2

  “Then say it,” Pete said as he stroked the side of her face. “Say you're my little slut wife.”

  Sam closed her eyes, luxuriating in the feel of his words and the thick cock in her hand. “Yes, I'm your little slut wife.”

  Pete smiled thinly, his eyes playful, but hard at the same time. “Then get back to work like a good girl, slut.”

  “Yes, sir,” Julie replied, grinning. She dove back onto his cock, this time with more gusto. She pulled her hand away from his balls, letting them drop onto the front of his boxers, and thrust them down between her spread legs. She rubbed her finger up and down her slit, wetting her fingers, as she swallowed down his thick cock. With each bob of her head, she took more and more of his length into her mouth, and rubbed her finger around her clit.

  Soon, he was thrusting into her mouth, stretching her mouth wide as he pushed to the back of her throat. “Take it down your throat, Sam, take it like the little slut you are. Do you like that? Do you like a younger man's cock fucking your mouth?”

  Julie moaned and groaned as his cock pushed over her tongue. She pulled back a little, trying to relax as his hips pushed his head past her gag point. But, she quickly recovered and relaxed enough to let him slide into her throat.

  He reached down with one hand and groped inside her shirt, feeling for her nipples. He grabbed them roughly, pinched her nipples and pulled on them.

  She grunted in pleasure around his cock and reached up to pull her breasts out of the top of her dress, to give him better access.

  He reached down and cupped her breast, rubbed his rough palm over her sensitive nub. The whole time, he kept up his stream of dirty talk and obscenities. “You like the feel of my cock in your throat, whore? I bet your husband isn't this big, is he slut? ”

  And, the whole time, she kept up her busy finger's attention on her clit. She was so close, she could feel it building in her stomach as she squatted there on the restroom floor. Each thrust into her throat, each name he called her, pushed her closer and closer to her next orgasm.

  He reached around back,and grabbed her head firmly from behind as hips started to buck and thrust. She didn't fight it. Instead, she dropped her hand from the base of his cock and let it join her other beneath the hem of her dress. She slid a finger into her pussy as Pete increased his pace, sliding his thick cock all the way into her mouth.

  She moaned and gasped for air as he fucked her mouth, his balls slapping her in the chin over and over.

  She'd never felt this hot before, this dirty. She felt her orgasm wash over her, welling up from inside. Her juices drenched her fingers, and she nearly screamed around the cock filling her mouth as her pussy clamped down on her probing finger. She shook and felt her legs weaken, but knew Pete would hold her up till he was done with her.

  The Hotwife Professor

  She wanted him to have a choice in this; albeit a hard choice. He could do the work, two separate twenty-page book reports, one on All the King's Men and the other on A Farewell to Arms . Or, they could come to another “arrangement.”

  Of course, it was obvious which one she'd prefer. But, she didn't want him to feel pressured.

  She grabbed another beer from the fridge and brought it into him. He was flipping through A Farewell to Arms as she set the bottle on the coffee table.

  “Read it before?” she asked as she sat down at the other end of the couch from him.

  He shook his head and put the book back on the table. “Not yet.” He took the bottle and drank from it.

  The closer she got to actually propositioning Jake, the more nervous she felt herself getting. She could suddenly feel her heart jack hammering in her chest. “So, I've thought over what you can do for extra credit.”

  “It has to do with choosing one of these books, doesn't it?”

  “In a sense. Look, I can't just let you turn in the other assignments. It wouldn't be fair to the other students who, well, showed up to class.”

  Jake frowned a little. “I know I screwed up, Professor.”

  Clara got up and moved down the couch, closer to Jake. She turned her legs to him, so her knees almost touched his. “This isn't just about that, it's about you doing enough work to make up for those missing class periods, also.”

  “So, I choose one of these books and, what, write a report on them?”

  “Almost,” she said and took a long drink of her beer.

  Jake sighed. “Both?”

  “Sorry, both,” she replied and set her beer on the coffee table.

  “How many pages?”

  “Twenty.”

  “Each?!”

  “Of course, each.”

  “Dammit,” he said and threw his head back. He sighed, this one more exasperated sounding than the last. “I might as well drop, Clara.”

  “Come on,” she said as she touched his bicep with her left hand, “it's not that bad. You'd have all semester to finish them.”

  He looked down at where her hand still lingered on his arm, at the unmistakeable wedding band on her finger, then looked up and locked his blue eyes with hers. He shook his head. “I work, and I'm taking a full load of classes . . . this is just too much. Besides, I thought you said I had options.”

  Even with her heart nervous and fluttering, those eyes of his made her positively drip. She kept her hand on his arm, even took a chance and squeezed it a little. “Well, I was thinking about some other way we could make up that work.”

  His face brightened. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she replied, her lips quirking up on one side in a secret smile. She trailed her fingernails from his bicep to his forearm. “It would have to be our secret, though.”

  He shivered, sucking in a sharp breath, as she brought up her other hand and touched his thigh. When he didn't flinch or stop her, she moved her hand to the inside of his leg. She shifted closer to him, pressing her leg against his as she lightly caressed and massaged his muscled body.

  “What would that be?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

  Her mouth was dry, and her heart had leaped into her throat. She leaned in closer, though, and pressed one of her breasts into his arm, saying in a near whisper, “Just some tutoring sessions.”

  “I have a girlfriend, though,” he said, even as he leaned into her body and turned his face to meet hers.

  “It's okay,” she assured him as she moved her lips to his, “I have a husband.”

  They kissed. Their lips didn't part at first, but soon their tongues were entwining together as they both tasted one another.

  It was the first time since the night she'd met her husband that Clara had kissed another man. Jake's tongue was the first eager tongue she'd allowed in her mouth, the first lips she'd playfully bit down on. She moaned into his mouth, loving how wrong and taboo this felt. Not only was she making out with another man on her couch, it was one of her students. And, against all the notions society had about decency, she was doing it with the tacit approval of her husband.

  She moved her hand farther up Jake's thigh, not stopping till she reached the tip of his hard, denim-clad cock. She could tell he was bigger around than her husband as she slowly outlined his head with her fingertips.

  He moaned into her mouth as she stroked up and down his length. He was so deliciously young, eager, and excited. And, from the feel of him, he could get very excited. Maybe nine or ten inches of excited.

  She wondered how many girls he'd been with. With eyes and a body like his, he'd probably never had any problems getting the girls to spread their legs. But, still, he wasn't being overly aggressive. Not yet, at least. She reached down and grabbed one of his hands from his lap, and moved it to the inside of her stocking clad thigh.

  He took the hint and squeezed, kneading her flesh as he moved higher and higher, sliding closer and closer to her soaked panties, her dripping pussy, with each second.

  She slid her legs apart for him, groaning into his mouth as he finally pushed aside the flimsy cloth between her legs and traced a
finger up and down her lips. She moved her hand up and down his cock, teasing him, as he slowly spread her and slid a finger in. She broke off her kiss as she repositioned her hand and unzipped his jeans, tugging all the way down on the metal teeth till she could reach in and drag his cock out into the living room air.

  Pleasure radiated from her pussy as he found her clit and began to rub. She ground into his hand as she glanced down at his cock. It was beautiful. Perfectly shaped, with a giant shaft she could barely fit her hand around. She reached out and wrapped her hand around him, began to slowly jerk him off.

  In just a few moments she'd gone from kissing a student, a man other than her husband, to slowly jacking off a new cock and another man's fingers pleasuring her. She shivered as she licked her lips and brushed Jake's hands out from between her legs.

  “Everything okay, Clara?” Jake asked, confused as he watched her start to stand.

  “Perfect,” Clara purred as she knelt in front of him. “And call me Prof. Stander.”

  Contents

  Stuffed by the Neighbor

  Given to the Bar by her Husband

  The Hotwife Professor

  Excerpt

  Stuffed by the Neighbor

  Holly married Sam when she was younger, and much more naïve, than she was now. Fresh out of college, Sam had been the first guy she'd ever really dated. Sure, there'd been others while she was in high school and getting her bachelor's, but nothing more serious than three months here, or six months there. She'd lost her virginity to one of them, and talked about marriage with another. But she'd broken up with all of them.

  She and her husband had met while she was working at a little coffee shop in her hometown, after she graduated and moved home for a few months to figure out her next step. He just seemed so suave, so comfortable, and so put together. Of course, he'd also been about twenty years older than her.

  But, ever since they'd first met, Sam had always treated her right. Like a princess, like a lady.

  And who could ask for more than that?

  Well, honestly, a little more sex would be okay. Sam worked from home, and he worked hard to provide them with their nice little life. But, he was always so stressed out with work, and, because he was basically an independent contractor, was perpetually on the job.

  Five months ago, at the beginning of the year, things had gotten worse. He'd picked up a big client, and now Sam was basically shackled to his computer. There was more money coming in, which was nice, but Sam had hardly touched her since then.

  And, well, there was another thing. Holly wanted a baby. They'd been trying for a while now, but no luck. It was Sam, not her. Low sperm count, they said. They had discussed going to a fertility doctor next month, to talk with about finding donors.

  She didn't blame Sam for it. How could she? He was the man she married, and when you married someone, you took them, warts and all. That's what love was.

  And things would get better, Holly knew. Marriages were lifelong commitments, and five dry months didn't make for a lifelong drought.

  So, yeah, seven years later, Holly didn't have any regrets. Not a one. Well, not any major ones at least. Okay, so not any super major ones.

  Nothing earth shattering, that was for sure.

  Alright, fine, what if there was one regret, probably one common to quite a few women her age who had married young: she wished she'd sewn her oats a little more. You know, slept with a few more guys.

  Not that sex with Sam was bad, or anything. He definitely knew what he was doing, that was for sure. When, of course, he wasn't too busy with work.

  Now, as she locked eyes with herself in the mirror and brushed out her long, blonde hair, she sighed as she thought about all the guys she might have slept with if she'd only known that she'd be locked down with one guy forever from such a young age.

  Her reverie didn't last long, though. It was interrupted by Sam bustling in, getting ready for work. Even though he officed out of the house, he still went through the trouble of prepping for his job. He said it put him in the right mindset.

  “We still on for Thad's housewarming party?” he asked.

  Thad? Holly, thought. Oh, right . Thad . The new neighbor next door. Young, successful, sexy. Almost a bad boy, but not quite. He owned his own business and, at a surprisingly young age of twenty-five, was doing alright for himself.

  She'd forgotten his name, but certainly hadn't forgotten him.

  He was the type of guy Holly would have drooled over back in the day, but who never would have gone for her because of how innocent she'd been, how nerdy and bookish.

  Sam had helped him move in a couple pieces of furniture the weekend before, and Holly had moved a few boxes. In thanks, Thad invited them over to his housewarming party tonight.

  Time must have flown by, because Holly hadn't even realized it was about to be the weekend.

  Her thoughts drifted back to Thad. Younger, sexy. She knew she shouldn't be thinking it, but she wondered what he looked like with his shirt off. When he was moving, he'd been wearing a ratty old tee-shirt that showed off his biceps. Small tears in the shirt had given her the briefest glimpses of his pecs and abs.

  At the time, she'd hardly been able to take her eyes off him.

  She thought she felt herself getting a little damp just think-

  “Earth to Holly?” Sam asked and kissed her on the cheek.

  “What?” she asked in a dazed voice.

  “Housewarming? Neighbor's?”

  “Oh! Right,” Holly replied. She grinned at her husband's reflection. “Yeah, we're still on.”

  * * *

  Holly was an elementary school teacher, and the day was over in a flash. She was pretty sure it didn't for the kids, but to her it always just seemed like more of the same. Recess duty, ignoring gossip in the lounge, a quick bite to eat in her room while she did a lesson plan.

  But, it was nearing the end of the year, and that meant vacation was just around the corner. She could grin and bear it till then, even if the kids barely could.

  She finished up some grading, made sure the last of the kids got dropped off, and headed out the door. Destination: home.

  There was only one problem, though. Thoughts of Thad kept invading on the drive. A mile from home, as she thought of what he would look like, you know, down there , she almost rear-ended another car. After coming to a screeching halt, she swore to keep thoughts of this other man out of her mind.

  It worked for two blocks.

  As she drove up to her house, she looked over in time to see Thad outside mowing the lawn. Sweaty, tanned, shirtless. He waved as she passed by, and it was all she could do to avoid hitting Sam's car as she pulled into the driveway next to his.

  With the car still running, she laid her head against the steering wheel and tried to expunge this new round of visuals from her mental record. She breathed deep, once, twice, three times.

  It didn't help, though. She could feel the dampness between her legs forming, just like it had in the bathroom earlier in the day.

  Why the hell was this man doing these things to her? She hadn't had a crush this bad since her freshman year of college, when she'd had the hots for Dillon Johnson, one of her teacher aids. At least, back then, she hadn't been married to a good, loving, attractive man. But, despite her marriage, and despite her complete fidelity to her husband, she felt herself getting hornier and hornier thinking about her neighbor.

  When she was back in college, there was only one thing that had worked for her, one thing that would get Dillon out of her head when it came time for study or homework.

  But, she couldn't do it inside, not with Sam home.

  But, couldn't she just go in and rip her husband's clothes off, instead?

  She shook her head.

  He probably wasn't in the mood, or was busy doing some last minute work for his biggest client. She didn't want to get rejected, or, even worse, make him feel guilty for rejecting her. That would cause a whole raft of problems on his par
t: questioning his masculinity, his virility, his ability to keep a younger woman happy.

  She glanced over at Sam's car, saw that the way it was parked in the driveway blocked her from Thad's view. And, she was wearing a dress today.

  Yeah, she could make this work.

  Holly didn't make it a habit of playing with herself, but she still enjoyed it when she did. She thought of going inside to do it, but didn't want to risk Sam hearing her from inside his office. If he walked in and caught her, all those problems she'd thought of earlier would still come to the forefront.

  She spread her legs a little in the car seat and slid her hand between her legs, and rubbed her fingers up and down the front of her dampened panties. With her eyes closed, she traced the lips, stopping at the top to circle and tease her clit through the fabric. She shivered as she pushed her fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and dove in.

  She slid her finger into her slit, picking up a little of herself, and spread it along the clit as she circled it tenderly. She sighed as her whole body shook. She brought her finger back down, teasing herself, as thoughts of Thad's hard body moving over her entered her mind.

  She leaned forward, resting her head on the steering wheel again, as she parted her pussy's lips and slipped a finger inside of herself. She spread her legs farther apart. She rubbed her g-spot, teasing herself, moaning as she slipped a second finger in. She pulled out her fingers and started them circling around the hood of her clit, rubbing out a good, quick . . .

  Then. Someone. Knocked.

  On the driver side window.

  “Holly? Are you okay, Holly?”

  Holly's eyes flew open and the color drained from her face as she straightened in the driver seat and locked eyes with a concerned Thad.

  “Holly?” Thad asked again as Holly pulled her hand out from beneath her dress. He paused and, suddenly, seemed to get it . “Oh, I'm, um, really sorry.”

  Holly's face went red. She couldn't even think of what to say.

  The worst part? She still hadn't gotten off.