by Reed James
Naughty Wife's Plan
Naughty Wives 6
by
Reed James
Copyright © 2014 by Reed James
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the expressed written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Published in the United States of America, 2014
All characters depicted in this work of fiction are over the age of eighteen (18).
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Table of Contents
Naughty Wife's Plan
Naughty Excerpt from “Naughty Wife's Plan”
Other Naughty Wives Stories
Chapter One: Shattered Marriage
Chapter Two: Cherry Delight
Chapter Three: Reassembly
Chapter Four: Naughty Revenge
Chapter Five: Anniversary
Other Works by Reed James
About the Author
Naughty Excerpt from “Naughty Wife's Plan”
He ripped the door open.
“Master,” purred Cherry in her Southern drawl, kneeling on the ground, looking absolutely lovely in a loose blouse that he could see down, her fat, mauve nipples and silver dollar-sized areolas peaking out as her large breasts swayed. “I can't believe what Mistress did to you. I'm so sorry.”
“Evie sent you?” he growled.
“I'm here on my own, Master.” She grinned, her hazel eyes twinkling. “I'm your slave, remember. Steve's lent me to you for the evenin'. Let me comfort you.”
“Why would you want to comfort me and not your best friend.”
“Because you're my Master,” she smiled, her hands reaching out to his bathrobe ties, pulling on them. He didn't resist, his cock swelling beneath it. “Mistress made a big mistake. Maybe you two need some space to cool down. So let me fill the void until then.”
His robe fell open; her hazel eyes burned as she saw his cock rising up. Behind her, Frank could see his cul-de-sac and the neighbors' houses. Anyone could look out and see him naked, a woman kneeling before him who wasn't his wife.
“Go home,” he ordered. “I need to be alone.”
“No,” she said, grasping his cock, stroking him; he couldn't help groaning. “You're hurtin', Master. Let me heal you.”
Her grip was soft, her thumb brushing his tip, spreading precum around.
“Are you disobeying me?” he growled.
“I am.” She fixed his eyes, leaning her lips closer to his cock. “I guess you'll have to discipline me.”
Her mouth swallowed his cock; pleasure exploded through him as she sucked. He leaned forward, his forearm resting against the door as she worshiped her master. Her tongue was agile, swirling around his cock while her right hand slid up his inner thigh to his heavy balls, cupping and gently massaging them; his eyes squeezed shut as the sensations surged through him.
“That's it, slut,” he grunted, letting her do all the work. This is what I need—meaningless, hot sex. Fuck love. All that damned emotion ever brought was pain.
And joy. He burned for Evie's mouth, remembering her blue eyes looking up at him with love as she sucked his cock.
Cherry's mouth worked lower, taking more of his cock into her. His eyes opened, staring out at the street. A car passed, pulling into the driveway. He wandered if Mrs. Inez witnessed his depravity. The pleasure grew more intense. He wanted to be watched. Maybe Evie wasn't the only exhibitionist in their marriage.
Tension built at the tip of his cock, his hips twitching, sliding his cock deeper into her mouth. He wanted to cum, to flood her slut mouth with his seed and force her to drink it down like a good slave. His fingers ran through her honey-blonde hair, getting a tight grip, then he drove his cock deep into her mouth, his head brushing the back of her throat. She sucked harder, moaning, her hand letting go of his balls, then wrapped around him, gripping his ass and squeezing.
Frank chuckled; Cherry was such a good slave. If he wanted to fuck her mouth, she was all for it. His hips pistoned, shoving his cock down her tight throat, her face burying in his brown pubic hair and his heavy balls slapping her chin. She moaned, vibrations engulfing his cock; the tension grew. He drew back and drove in hard. Over and over, using her mouth to satisfy his lusts.
“Take it, slut!” he hissed, staring out at the street, hoping someone would pass by. “You're just my cum dump.”
Cherry moaned louder, her fingernails biting into the meat of his ass.
Mrs. Rogers, walking her dog, passed on the sidewalk. She jumped when she saw him. He waved at her with one hand, still fucking his slave's mouth. His balls, slapping Cherry's chin, boiled as the woman's eyes seemed locked on his, her thighs shifting.
“Watch me fuck my whore,” he muttered, his strokes increasing, plunging his cock down her throat.
To find out what happens next, read on!
Other Naughty Wives Stories
Naughty Wives 1: Roleplay Gone Wrong
Naughty Wives 2: Naughty Wife's Surprise
Naughty Wives 3: Cuckolding the Cheat
Naughty Wives 4: Swinging at the Keys
Naughty Wives 5: Bored Wife's Fun
Under His Boss's Desk
Hot Tub Romp
Fingered Next to My Husband
A Submissive Bride
Chapter One: Shattered Marriage
The phone rang.
Frank stared at his cell phone vibrating on the nightstand, Evie's smiling face beaming on the screen proclaiming who was calling. He still sat on their marital bed, rumbled from fucking Grace. He had forever violated this bed by screwing the redhead. Evie had shattered their marriage, but he had fucked Grace on the pieces, grinding them into dust beneath their writhing bodies.
His emotions were a tangled mess. He loved Evie. He hated Evie. He wanted to hold her and love her. He wanted to hurt her. And he was definitely too afraid to speak to her. How could he take back the words he had shouted? How could she take back her infidelity? She had wounded him so much, and he had been all too happy to attack her back.
It was the fourth time she had called in the last hour. Did she want to scream at him? To rub his face in her affair. Did she want to reconcile? Did he want to reconcile? He lay back on the bed, grabbing her pillow, burying his face and smelling that mix of scents that was completely his wife's, wishing he had never fucked Grace.
But, most of all, Frank wished he and Evie had never roleplayed at all and had just been bored with their sex life. At least he would still have her.
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
“He won't answer,” Evie whispered, setting her phone down, fresh tears running down her cheek. “He hates me.”
“Probably,” Officer Connoly answered, sitting on the couch nearby watching a baseball game. It was clear the cop didn't care now that he had fucked her.
Evie didn't even understand why she was still here. It had been a mistake to come over and fuck him, giving truth to the lies her husband had been told. Frank believed she was having an affair with the cop, tricked by that conniving, two-faced bitch
—Grace Davenport-Meyers, the trophy wife of a software billionaire. Her marriage had turned out to be just a game for the rich cunt to toy with. She had set Evie up, using her own cell phone to flirt with the cop, then using those texts to convince her husband she had been unfaithful.
“What am I going to do?”
The Black man grinned at her, his cock bulging the crotch of his baggy shorts.
“That's not happening,” she snapped. “It was a mistake. I only fucked you because I was angry at Frank. Because I thought he was cheating on me.” But her husband had only been fucking Grace because he had believed she had cheated first. And she could prove her innocence. All she had to do was see her husband and show him the video she had recorded last night of Grace fucking Officer Connoly at the bar and prove that the bitch had lied.
“What are you going to do? If you stay here, you're gonna have to share my bed.” His grin was hungry.
“I...” her eyes widened as she realized something she had forgotten. “I need to pick up my friend at the airport.”
“Huh?”
“Cherry will help me.” Hope blossomed inside her.
“Kay,” the cop shrugged. “Take care. Unless you want a real man to fuck you.”
“I want a real man to love me. I just need to get him back. And then Grace is going to pay.”
A naughty plan was forming in her head.
Her feet felt lighter as she raced down the stairs of Officer Connoly's apartment, thighs sticky with his cum. She hadn't bothered to clean herself up. First her crushing grief and then her blazing hope had driven those considerations out of her mind, but as she walked through the parking garage, she could feel the adulterous mess sliding between her butt-cheeks, trickling out of her asshole. She could smell the salty, bleach scent as it trickled down her legs, her thong long gone, ripped off by the cop in the heat of the moment.
When she reached her car, she pulled out the moist towelettes she always carried in her purse—Evie never knew when she or Frank would be feeling randy and want a quickie in whatever spot they could find. She stood in the parking garage, reaching beneath her skirt to wipe up the cop's sticky cum and her own pussy juices, then shoved the soiled towelettes into a plastic bag. That faint, alcoholic scent filled her nose, and her pussy and asshole tingled as she wiped them, cool as the cleaning solution slowly dried.
Anyone could walk down her and see her reaching under her skirt and swabbing herself. Her exhibitionist side burned, and part of her lusted to put on a show. But what was the point if Frank wasn't here to watch her be naughty. A pain-filled shudder passed through her, threatening to overwhelm her with another flood of tears.
Have hope. Once Frank sees the video, he'll believe that you didn't cheat and realize Grace is a lying bitch.
She took a deep breath, calming herself. She climbed into her red Audi, backed out of the space, her tires squealing on the worn-smooth concrete. She pulled out onto the Seattle street and began weaving her way through traffic to I-5 to head south to the SeaTac Airport. Even on Sunday, it was terrible traffic, and she found herself laying on the horn at every opportunity as the citizens of Western Washington proved how little they knew how to drive as she weaved through traffic.
Cherry and her husband Steve would help her. She and Frank had been with first Cherry and later her husband Steve, swinging with the couple. Cherry and Steve's relationship was far more complex than hers. Steve had actually cheated on Cherry, but her friend had found it arousing to be so degraded by her husband, getting off on the humiliation of being cuckqueened, as she called it.
Evie exited I-5 in SeaTac, heading towards International Boulevard. Evie smiled; the very street she had stood upon when all this mess started. Their lives and grown so much richer and so much more fragile that night. And Evie was going to make sure she held onto that life. She could forgive Frank for his mistake, and she hoped he would forgive her for fucking Officer Connoly this afternoon.
She pulled into the airport, glancing at her watch. Her plane should be landing right now. She pulled up at the curb on the long driveway that looped around the parking garage in front of the main terminal. Her heart beat faster as she waited, drumming her fingers, looking for her friend's honey-blonde hair.
Her phone chirped. “Just landed!” Cherry's message read. “Sry!”
“Waiting out front. Need 2 talk.”
“What about?”
Her tears suddenly threatened her, burning her eyes as she stared down at the screen. “Plz hurry.”
“OTW”
She forced her tears back, feeling like everyone walking or driving by her car were watching her. And not in a sexy way. Flashes of Frank plowing Grace flooded her mind as she waited, all the pain and anger twisting around inside her. And those terrible words he said, his pain and betrayal speaking. He had to love her so much for Grace's scheme to have hurt him so bad.
She jumped as someone rapped on her car window. Cherry peered in, concern painted on her gorgeous face, framed by curly, honey-blonde hair. Concern shone in her hazel eyes and her pouty lips were twisted into a sympathetic frown. Evie popped the lock and Cherry climbed in, reaching across the gear shift to give her a warm hug.
“What is wrong, Evie?” she drawled in her Southern accent. “You look as frightful as a raccoon caught pawin' through the trash.”
Evie's pain and grief poured out of her as she cried on her best friend's shoulder.
Chapter Two: Cherry Delight
The doorbell's tones chimed through the house startled Frank awake. He didn't remember falling asleep clutching his wife's pillow to his face. “Evie,” he muttered. “Who—”
His pain crashed into like an avalanche, burying his heart in grief and guilt. He clutched the pillow, wanting to hold onto it with such desperate fear and get his cheating wife back. Flashes of Evie with the Black cop flickered in his mind; anger flared at his wife and he flung her pillow across the room. Her scent lingered in his nose, the apricot of her shampoo, the vanilla of her lotion, the faintly spicy musk that was all Evie's. He wanted the pillow back; he wanted his wife back.
The doorbell resounded again.
“Go away!” he roared, falling back on the bed, stretching out his leg, brushing a wet spot left by Grace; his skin crawled as the stain slowly ruined their marital bed.
Again the doorbell rang. He groaned, rolling out of bed, running his hands through his face. He was naked, his crotch stained with Grace's pussy and dried cum. He could smell Grace's tangy musk now and the lingering traces of her flowery perfume, polluting his bedroom.
“Fuck,” he muttered as it rang again. He stood up, snatching his fallen robe from the floor, pulling it on as he walked downstairs, hastily tying it. “Better be important or I'm gonna kill someone.”
He ripped the door open.
“Master,” purred Cherry in her Southern drawl, kneeling on the ground, looking absolutely lovely in a loose blouse that he could see down, her fat, mauve nipples and silver dollar-sized areolas peaking out as her large breasts swayed. “I can't believe what Mistress did to you. I'm so sorry.”
“Evie sent you?” he growled.
“I'm here on my own, Master.” She grinned, her hazel eyes twinkling. “I'm your slave, remember. Steve's lent me to you for the evenin'. Let me comfort you.”
“Why would you want to comfort me and not your best friend.”
“Because you're my Master,” she smiled, her hands reaching out to his bathrobe ties, pulling on them. He didn't resist, his cock swelling beneath it. “Mistress made a big mistake. Maybe you two need some space to cool down. So let me fill the void until then.”
His robe fell open; her hazel eyes burned as she saw his cock rising up. Behind her, Frank could see his cul-de-sac and the neighbors' houses. Anyone could look out and see him naked, a woman kneeling before him who wasn't his wife.
“Go home,” he ordered. “I need to be alone.”
“No,” she said, grasping his cock, stroking him; he couldn't hel
p groaning. “You're hurtin', Master. Let me heal you.”
Her grip was soft, her thumb brushing his tip, spreading precum around.
“Are you disobeying me?” he growled.
“I am.” She fixed his eyes, leaning her lips closer to his cock. “I guess you'll have to discipline me.”
Her mouth swallowed his cock; pleasure exploded through him as she sucked. He leaned forward, his forearm resting against the door as she worshiped her master. Her tongue was agile, swirling around his cock while her right hand slid up his inner thigh to his heavy balls, cupping and gently massaging them; his eyes squeezed shut as the sensations surged through him.
“That's it, slut,” he grunted, letting her do all the work. This is what I need—meaningless, hot sex. Fuck love. All that damned emotion ever brought was pain.
And joy. He burned for Evie's mouth, remembering her blue eyes looking up at him with love as she sucked his cock.
Cherry's mouth worked lower, taking more of his cock into her. His eyes opened, staring out at the street. A car passed, pulling into the driveway. He wandered if Mrs. Inez witnessed his depravity. The pleasure grew more intense. He wanted to be watched. Maybe Evie wasn't the only exhibitionist in their marriage.
Tension built at the tip of his cock, his hips twitching, sliding his cock deeper into her mouth. He wanted to cum, to flood her slut mouth with his seed and force her to drink it down like a good slave. His fingers ran through her honey-blonde hair, getting a tight grip, then he drove his cock deep into her mouth, his head brushing the back of her throat. She sucked harder, moaning, her hand letting go of his balls, then wrapped around him, gripping his ass and squeezing.
Frank chuckled; Cherry was such a good slave. If he wanted to fuck her mouth, she was all for it. His hips pistoned, shoving his cock down her tight throat, her face burying in his brown pubic hair and his heavy balls slapping her chin. She moaned, vibrations engulfing his cock; the tension grew. He drew back and drove in hard. Over and over, using her mouth to satisfy his lusts.
