Bored Wife's Fun

by Reed James

  “Where could she have gone?” he muttered.

  “Maybe she went out with one of her other friends? Cherry, perhaps?”

  Frank shook his head. “On vacation with her husband. She gets back tonight around seven. Evie's picking her up at the airport tonight.”

  “Well, what else could it be?”

  He shifted, and Grace could see his mind flailing for any reason that could explain her behavior. “Our anniversary's coming up in two weeks. Maybe she's getting something ready.”

  “I thought you and Cherry were planning something. A surprise.”

  “She hates surprises,” he muttered, his eyes distant. “But Cherry has so much fun planning them.”

  Grace reached out and placed a faux-comforting hand on his. “Could she be seeing someone?”

  Frank flinched like she had struck him. “Of course not. She loves me.”

  “Then why did she lie to you?”

  His breath quickened, his eyes going wild.

  “What was she wearing when she left?”

  “In a dress,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Something nice. Like she'd wear on a date.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I'm sorry, Frank. I bet we're just jumping to conclusions. I'd just watch her carefully. You don't want to tip her if it's just perfectly innocent. And if it's not...you deserve to find out.”

  “How?”

  She pretended to think. “Check her phone.”

  He stared at her. “But I trust her. Neither of us snoop like that.”

  “Do you really trust her? Has she ever given you a reason to doubt her before?”

  There was that chink in their marriage—Officer Connoly. She could almost see the cop reflected in Frank's eyes. “Check her phone,” she whispered. “The first chance you get. Let me know what you find out. I'll be there to support you through this.” A pleased thrill went through her—she was capturing the caring friend perfectly.

  “Her phone's upstairs. She forgot it. She...” He swallowed.

  She fought to keep a smile from spreading across her face. This is going even better than I'd imagine.

  “She must have been in a hurry this morning,” he babbled. “She must have slept late because she stayed out...”

  “With her lover.”

  The pain in his eyes was so satisfying.

  ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

  Frank raced upstairs, his stomach twisted in knots. He felt like he had just watched Evie with another man, that sick feeling squirming through him, but without the arousal. He wasn't there to share, to witness, to experience her pleasure. She had gone behind his back. She had broken their trust.

  No, no, no! She's not cheating on me. She loves me.

  She loves cock. What if she found one she likes more. What if she likes the owner more than me.

  Sweat broke out across his body. He crashed through his bedroom door, almost tripping on one of her slippers as he raced to the nightstand. To her phone. He grabbed it, his hands shaking, and swiped the screen to unlock it. They had matching phones, same models, different colors, and his fingers punched the screen, trying to get to the message log. His thick fingers kept misclicking. “Come on,” he hissed in frustration. The message log opened up.

  He froze. He didn't want to read these here. Not in their bedroom. This was where they loved each other. Where they had promised to share their desires fully, to never hold back. If Evie wanted to take a lover, she just had to include him. To talk to him. She didn't have to hide it, unless...

  His fingers hovered over the message log, too scared to move, his breath coming in thick gasps.

  He retreated from the room, his steps heavy as he crashed down the stairs. He needed support. Grace had been such a friend the last few weeks. The beautiful redhead was sitting at the table, an anxious look on her freckled face.

  “Well?”

  “I couldn't...” His hand shook. “I...” He reached the table. Evie was his world. The only woman he had ever loved. He had thought he had loved before he had met her, but Evie had proved him wrong; his previous loves had been pale imitations of the true thing. Their love couldn't be a sham. She couldn't have faked that warmth.

  Right?

  “I'm here,” she whispered, touching his wrist, pressing up against him.

  “Thank you.” He lifted his finger up, then touched the screen.

  There was a flurry of texts from Cherry that were quite innocent. They were just talking about her vacation. The texts were late, after midnight. Then there was a gap. His text he sent to let her know he was called into work and...

  Officer Connoly.

  His heart tightened.

  “Hey, stud,” the first text read. “Over at the gray roof bar. Know it?”

  “Yeah. You looking 2 have some fun? ;-)”

  “Yes!!!! My pussy is so wet!!! ;-) Missing your big Black dick!!! Frank's ain't cutting it! :-( And I need to be so naughty tonight!”

  “BRT 5 minutes I'll break every speed limit!”

  “My pussy's waiting stud. ;-)”

  Frank's world ended.

  Chapter Four: Grace's Betrayal

  Evie looked at her new nails, smiling at their pristine beauty. A yawn forced her eyes closed. She had been so horny last night, and had tried to stay up for Frank, texting with Cherry about her vacation, but she had fell asleep before he got home. And when she had woken up, he was dead to the world. She didn't know how late he was out, but she didn't have the heart to wake him up.

  She was still feeling horny from last night and squirmed through her nail appointment. She couldn't wait to show the vid she took of Grace and Office Connoly and then have a nice, hard fuck with her husband. A shiver passed through her and she pressed her thighs together, her panties growing sticky as she crossed the parking lot.

  Evie reached her red Audi, unlocking it with the remote. I should go grocery shopping, but... Her pussy itched. No. That can wait.

  She climbed into her car, starting it up. “I need to get laid.”

  Evie was a leadfoot, and she zipped home.

  ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

  “I'm so sorry, Frank,” Grace whispered, stroking his arm.

  “How could she do this to me?” he groaned, his voice gravelly and hoarse. “I loved her. If she wanted to fuck him, she just had to ask. I just wanted to watch. To share it with her.”

  “Sometimes, when people swing, this happens.” She reached his hand, stroking him. His eyes fell on her dark-red nails. “It's a pitfall. Fucking is so intimate, and she could find something she likes more with him, and...that's it. She draws away from you and seeks out her lover behind your back.”

  “She loves me. She told me before she went out last night. Out to her...” His stomach twisted. He could see her writhing underneath the Black man, her body pale against his dark skin, her face twisted in ecstasy.

  “Women lie.” She brought his hand up to her lips, giving him a gentle kiss. “Sex and emotions are too tangled up with us. It's harder for us to divorce ourselves from the intimacy.”

  He looked at her, horror widening his eyes. “Are you saying she doesn't love me anymore?”

  “If she loved you, why would she cheat on you?”

  This can't be happening. Oh, god, what did I do wrong? “Is it my fault? Was I not enough of a man for her.”

  “Trust me, you are more than enough man.” She kissed his fingers again. “You are an amazing lover. Any woman would be thrilled to have your strong hands.” Her lips were so hot on his. “Your muscular body.” Her top was low-cut and Frank was suddenly all too aware at just how lovely her large breasts were as she shifted. He could almost see her nipples. “Your wonderful mouth eating her pussy.” Another melting kiss. “And your nice, hard cock fucking her cunt.” Her voice was husky, pure sex.

  The blood rushed to his groin, his cock pressing against his robe.

  “What are you doing?”

  She kissed his fingertip. “Comforting you.” Her tongue slid around his finger, pink and wet
; his cock throbbed, picturing those lips wrapped around his shaft. She sucked his finger into her mouth hard, moaning like a wanton whore.

  This is so wrong. I need to stop this.

  Evie didn't stop. She did a whole lot more. She texted him and fucked him like a dirty whore!

  Anger and lust burned inside of him, consuming anything but one fact—his wife had cheated on him. She had broken their marriage. How long had she been cheating? Had she cheated on me before we even started roleplaying. Had the cop always been her lover? Had she set that entire game up? She had been so eager to let Officer Connoly fuck her that first time. She had zero qualms. She had let the cop molest her in front of me. His heart screamed in his chest, beating a mile a minute.

  I love her.

  She cheated on me.

  “Let me ease your pain,” Grace whispered, bringing his hand down to her large breasts, her flesh warm and soft as she pushed him inside her blouse. Her nipple was a steel point digging into his palm. “Forget about your wife for a little while.”

  “I love her,” he wheezed.

  “You're angry at her.”

  “Yes!” his hand squeezed her breast—pliant and heavy.

  This is wrong.

  She cheated first!

  Grace's arms wrapped around his neck. He couldn't think straight. Pain filled his heart, stabbing every time his heart beat. He had loved his wife so much. He could forgive almost anything. But not this. Their rules were simple.

  All she had to to do was talk to me.

  “Forget your pain.”

  Her eyes were burning green, her lips ruby red.

  “Get back at her.”

  Her lips neared.

  “Fuck me in your bed.”

  “Yes!” he growled, squeezing her tit again and capturing her lips.

  Evie betrayed him first.

  He thrust his tongue into her lips hard, not caring if he was too forceful. He was going to take Grace. His arms scooped her up, hefting her figure, his lips locked to hers. Memories of carrying Evie up these very stairs when they first moved in flooded his mind, then were consumed by the inferno inside him.

  He threw Grace onto the bed, her right breast popping out of her top as she bounced. He slammed the door closed then dropped his robe. He could feel the redhead's eyes on his naked body. He had gotten in shape for Evie, sculpting his body to be as strong as Officer Connoly's.

  It hadn't been enough.

  He opened the closet and pulled out the silken rope from the bondage chest. “You've been so naughty,” he growled, turning to Grace. Her breasts were bare, her top lying on the floor as she wiggled out of her skirt. He could see the fire burning between her thighs, her passion staining her fiery pubic hair.

  “So naughty,” she purred.

  “Turn over, slave!” he growled.

  Her green eyes widened, then she shuddered. “Yes, Master.”

  His cock stood straight before him, aching to bury into Grace's ass. He was going to fuck her hard. But first, she had to be punished. He seized her wrists as she knelt, tying them tight before her head, pulling the rope through the headboard, deftly tying a knot. The last few months he had grown very proficient at binding women. He found the spreader bar, the ball gag, and the paddle in the chest.

  He was going to punish a naughty wife.

  “Oh, kinky,” Grace moaned, wiggling that pale ass. It should be Evie's. His wife deserved to be spanked.

  He tightened the cuff on her right ankle then grabbed her left leg, spreading her wide open and attaching her to the other end of the long bar. Her pink pussy gaped open between the curls of her fiery hair, her excitement glistening on her lips. He grabbed the ball gag, shoving it into her mouth; she moaned like a wanton slut.

  A whore.

  Like Evie.

  His hand snatched up the paddle. The crack was satisfying, her moans muffled by the gag. “Whore!” he snarled, staring at the red sting painting her pale ass.

  Crack!

  “Dirty slut!”

  Crack!

  He reddened her other cheek, making it glow cherry to match her right.

  Crack!

  She jerked at the cords, throwing a look over her shoulder, her green eyes burning with desire.

  Crack!

  “Cheating whore!”

  Anger boiled inside him.

  Crack!

  The paddle landed on her upper thighs, the sting was louder, more piercing. Grace moaned, the bed creaking.

  Crack!

  “Why?” he demanded.

  Crack!

  “I would have done anything for you!”

  Crack!

  The tears were hot as they ran down his cheeks.

  Crack!

  “I love you!”

  Crack!

  “I would have done anything for you!”

  Crack!

  The paddle wasn't enough. It was too impersonal. An impediment. She needed a more personal punishment. He threw the paddle down on the bed. Grace's green eyes caught his; she groaned like a wanton whore. She loved it!

  Evie had loved it, too!

  Smack!

  His palm stung against her plump ass, resting on her flesh. He gave her a hard squeeze, almost pinching her; she gasped through her gag.

  Smack!

  “You were my world, Evie!”

  Smack!

  “Why?”

  Smack!

  “Why?”

  Smack!

  Because of her dirty cunt! Horny, never satisfied, begging for other cocks than mine. I was happy with just her. I didn't need other women. But she needed other men.

  His hand fell on Grace's pussy. A wet smack echoed. Her coppery hair flew as her head tossed back. Her loudest moan echoed, muffled by her gag. She pulled at her restraints, spreader bar clinking, ropes groaning, bed frame creaking. The whore had cum.

  Like Evie. She was just a whore.

  He drove his cock into her pussy. So wet, still convulsing about his cock as her orgasm burned through her. He drove hard, fast, the bed rocking, headboard banging into the wall as he buried into her passion. His groin smacked into her cherry-red ass, her cheeks jiggling. Her hips swiveled, fucking back into him.

  His fingers squeezed her asscheeks; her pussy squeezed down on his thrusting cock. Angry passion burned inside him, rolling through him like waves of heat, the inferno building at the tip of his cock. He was desperate to extinguish it, to fire all his anger and rage into Grace's pussy.

  “Whore!” he hissed. “Why are you such a whore, Evie? Why? I loved you!”

  He closed his eyes, pretending it was Evie's cunt he was fucking, giving her the hard cock that she desired. It was all she needed him for. He was just a piece of meat to satisfy her desires. And he wasn't enough. He gave her his love and she went out and fucked Officer Connoly.

  His hips pistoned, their flesh slapping together. “Damn you, Evie! You fucking whore!”

  He erupted.

  Chapter Five: The Shattered Windshield

  Evie roared down the street she and Frank lived on. She loved to speed. And when she was horny, she would break so many traffic laws to get home. Frank hated when she sped, fearing for her safety, but she was a pro at reckless driving, even if it did make their car insurance premium more expensive—Frank had never had a speeding ticket in his life, but Evie received at least one a year.

  She pressed her thighs together, eager to get home and see Frank. Her pussy needed some loving, and she wanted her husband's special touch. She couldn't wait to spend a Sunday afternoon in bed, screwing like a pair of rabbits, and the vid she shot last night would be the centerpiece of all the fun they would have until she leave to go pick Cherry up at the airport. She loved watching porn with Frank.

  She turned sharp, pulling into her driveway, passing the silver Jaguar parked out front. She frowned at it, wondering which of her neighbors parked their car in front of her house. Then she felt that itch between her thighs and it hardly mattered. She put her car i
nto park, shut the engine off, and grabbed her purse, throwing her keys into it.

  Excitement bubbled inside her as she stepped into the kitchen from the garage. Coffee was percolating away and her phone lay on the center counter. She frowned, positive she had left it on her nightstand. She snatched it up, dumping her purse on the counter and kicking off her shoes. She didn't have time to be tidy—her pussy needed loving.

  Muffled moans came from upstairs. She smiled; Frank was watching porn. Good. He would be in the mood for some fucking. It was loud, a man grunting angrily and the woman moaning like a banshee. She could hear the bed rocking. Her pussy grew damp—he was watching some hardcore porn. Even better!

  She reached the second floor, their bedroom door open. “Why are you such a whore, Evie? Why? I loved you!”

  She froze, blinking. That sounded almost like Frank. Was he watching a home video they made? She reached the doorway. Her heart seized in her chest. She stumbled, gripping the door frame. Her husband, the man she trusted, was plowing a bound woman, fucking her so hard while the woman moaned through a ball gag.

  Horror punched her. She was home early. She always ran errands after her nail appointment.

  Always.

  Does he always cheat on me when I'm gone?

  She felt sick. Her stomach twisting.

  “Damn you, Evie! You fucking whore!” her supposedly loving husband grunted as he buried in the slut's cunt. Such hate in his voice. Her guts felt torn open. How had I missed that?

  “Damn you, Frank!” she snarled.

  He pulled out of the woman—Grace, she saw with disgust; her new supposed friend—his cum leaking out her pussy. He saw her, his eyes narrowing. “Why?” he screamed at her, pointing an accusing finger.

  “Because I wanted to see you!” she shouted, the pain buried by a sudden, flashing anger. “I wanted to come home early and spend some time with my husband! Sorry for ruining your tryst! Bastard!”

  “You're one to talk, whore!” he snarled, facing her, his fists clenched.