Naughty Wife (A Steamy Romance)

by Moa Vaughn

  NAUGHTY WIFE; SLEAZY SECRETS

  ______

  ~A Steamy Romance ~

  Moa Vaughn

  CONTENTS

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  Thank you for Reading!

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  Thank you Note:

  Thank you for choosing to read my first romance book. I hope to awaken your naughty side and bring you joy and happiness through my writing.

  I appreciate feedbacks from my readers so email me anytime at MoaVaughn@gmail.com

  Dedication:

  To my exceptional supportive husband who is always my number 1 fan. I love you!

  NAUGHTY WIFE; SLEAZY SECRETS

  ~A Steamy Romance ~

  Copyright © 2017 by Moa Vaughn

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Please note this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 only!

  CHAPTER 1

  I opened my eyes and watched as the cerulean blue clouds slowly drifted backward, with nothing else in sight but the never-ending billow of brume. I closed my eyes and opened it again to point another irresolute glare out the window at the floating white clouds and blue sky. Inadvertently, they kept on reminding me of my immediate reality. I was leaving my hometown to meet my husband in Los Angeles. White and blue, the clouds were, sailing peacefully as we trudged through; leaving everything else behind.

  I cast a sideward glance at Michael, my sixteen-year-old son. He had his father's eyes; dark and narrow. His growing facial hair perfectly accentuated his handsome, masculine face. I saw right there in my son the exact same male beauty that had attracted me to Steve Oswald.

  I was fresh out of school when I got pregnant, and Steve decided to tie the knot two years later. We were young and in love. The atmosphere turned electric when we were close to each other. We had a special bond that nothing could break... not even when he struggled to get a job. I loved him more than I loved myself and we grew together, enjoying the many perks of love. Sadly, all that disappeared when Steve got a big-time job in Los Angeles. He was finally being recognized for the talent he possessed. I never knew how to handle being happy and depressed at the same time. How can you want something so much, but when it finally comes to fruition, you feel an uncanny taste of melancholy?

  I let my mind wander, and the thoughts passed through my mind like a water pipe. I was finally going to live with my husband again. The feeling inside me was inexplicable because I did not know how to respond to the questions that picked at my brain. Steve only ever came home once in three or four months. We spoke on phone, and his voice was still the same. His words were still charged with the perfect current, and I knew he was still Steve. But was he still my Steve? And the most important question was… was I still his Donna? I had changed beyond his wildest dreams. I had been lonely for such a long time.

  He had a new life in Los Angeles and spoke of his colleague with whom he shared quite a large duplex. He never told me his name or anything else. I was never too inquisitive. I closed my eyes and allowed the thoughts slowly turn into fragments as the firm hands of sleep took me.

  Oh crap! I jolted my head forward, waking up from my nap. The annoying clouds still floated in the air beside me, smirking nonchalantly at my disgruntled face. I scowled.

  "We are about to land." The lanky man standing beside us informed.

  "Oh. Thanks." I replied in between a yawn.

  I rubbed my palm over my eyes, trying hard to fathom how five hours had crept by in such short period.

  "Fasten your seatbelts!"

  ***

  "Welcome to Los Angeles!" The automated voice and electronic letters on the long boards were all too happy to announce. I held myself in an embrace as I glanced around, trying to adapt my eyes to the new environment. Michael stood closely beside me, looking around too.

  We moved toward where we would receive our bags, and the attendant smiled gloriously at me, his teeth very well arranged. I gave him a stern look and walked past him after picking my things without looking back. He must have felt quite taken aback, but I did not really care. Well, not like he is not used to that kind of treatment anyway. You don't expect everyone you smile at to smile back at you, do you?

  As I looked up, I saw a woman in cream color tight fitted suit with pencil skirt waving at us. Her grin almost cut through her cheeks, and her eyes were particularly large and were unmistakably pointed in our direction. I felt Michael's eyes on me.

  "Oh." I thought, as I walked in her direction. She appeared shorter as I approached her. The make-up on her face would paint all of Michael Angelo's works and still have some remainder for Leonardo da Vinci. Her movement seemed like a squirm as she appeared fragile and soft. I could tell she was a secretary or something at first glance. She wouldn't get a job as any other thing with that look. But then, I had learned not to be judgmental. I managed a smile when I reached her, and she stretched her hand for a shake. I noticed her overdone nails and spotless wrists. She was artificial in every sense of the word. Oh God! That judgmental war in my head again! Out… out… get out!

  "Hi... I'm Kerry Anderson. I was asked to pick you up from the airport." She said in a voice that sounded like the jingle bells in techno version.

  I shook my head as I scrutinized my own thoughts. This was who I had become. The first few weeks after Steve left were hard. I was new to the feeling of being alone. I still had an amazing body, so it was natural that men sought after me at every opportunity they got. I developed resilience, fueled by anger and a feeling of betrayal. I knew Steve had to go and couldn't take me along just yet, but I still felt betrayed. I would feel my heart beating faster, thumping at my chest, pounding my ribs with so much ferocity and inspired rage whenever any man threw even the slightest sign of interest at me. But I would become bright as roses at noonday whenever Steve's call came in and I heard his voice. That also started to reduce. The longer Steve stayed away from me, the more my desires for him plummeted. I took it all out on any man who dared flash his teeth at me.

  I was lonely and needless to say… very horny. If I wanted to remain faithful to my husband, I couldn't see other men. I wanted to be a good wife. But so much distance and time took its toll on me. I couldn't take it anymore. I started to play with myself. I became my own plaything. At night before I slept, I would let my fingers wander through the innermost corners of my womanhood. I would say sweet words to myself and masturbate myself to sleep. That worked for a while, but I needed more. I needed to feel more inside me. I started using fruits… bananas… cucumbers. And then I bought a couple of sex toys, even double penetrating toys.

  I still felt like something was missing until I found that missing piece when I raised the curtain one hot night when the fans had
an electrical fault. I never raised that curtain unless I wanted to do a thorough house cleaning, which was usually once a month or longer.

  The building directly opposite ours was exactly the same structure and only a bit lower in height. From where I stood, I could see directly into the room opposite mine. It was dark at night, but the lights were on. I saw them… I saw our neighbors… making love; right there on the bed, switching positions like they were drunk or high on a drug. I watched as the man slammed mercilessly into his eagerly appreciative wife. I could not hear her moans, but I could swear that they were loud.

  I found my own hand working its way down to lift my nightgown and rub my naked, bald pussy. That was the start of it all. That was the start of my perverted nature. I watched them every single day they made crazy love. I followed them into the bathroom and watched them wash each other under the shower, unaware that someone was watching. Oh, I watched every single detail.

  And just then, I remembered that Kerry, the woman who had come to pick us up at the airport was still waiting and smiling at us. Michael smiled back at Kerry, and so did I.

  CHAPTER 2

  The sun stood just above the horizon waving at me with all of its many hands. I wished I could extend the same courtesy, but I couldn't. My mind was divided. I was happy to finally be with my husband, but also skeptical and unsure of what to expect. I enjoyed the view of the city from the car, basking in the beauty of the colorful water and bright lights. How beautiful it was indeed!

  The city looked as real as the images on postcards, and I was mind boggled at how happy the people seemed. Maybe I actually would enjoy life here, I thought. I needed some of that happiness.

  "You would love it here. I was thinking the same thing you are thinking right now when I first got here also. I moved here from Chicago, you know, I never really knew what to expect until I got into the city." The flighty voice of Kerry Anderson breezed inside my ears.

  She sat in front while Michael and I sat at the back. Alas, the car stopped, and I looked out through the window. Michael spotted him first.

  "Daddy!" he screamed, running out of the car to meet Steve who stood just in front of a nicely fenced compound. I watched as they hugged and saw just how much Michael looked like his father.

  The next few hours were spent talking about everything and anything that crossed our minds. It was a big house that resonated in tasteful choices and a sense of orderliness and maturity. I was amazed at how well two men could put a house in such great shape.

  "Oh, that's Lucy," he said when I finally expressed my thoughts in words.

  "What? Who is Lucy?" I asked as my heart pounded and my legs froze. I pictured the worst.

  "My Colleague's wife... I told you he was married" he said.

  "Yes, you told me he was married, but you never said his wife lived with you" I snapped back.

  "With us... She lives with us... not with me. Her husband is here, and he asked her to join him just like I asked you," he said.

  I was about to speak again when Michael resurfaced in the room after taking a tour around the house; so I kept mum. Steve gave me a knowing look.

  That evening, Steve announced that he was taking us out to celebrate getting back together. He seemed elated that we were around, and so did Michael. I dressed in a knee-length lemon gown, and he complimented my beauty. For the first time in a while, I did not feel like hitting a man for admiring me. I actually wanted to be admired by his words, his eyes, and definitely by every other part of him. And the first step to that was to go celebrate with him in this club he talked so much about.

  The club was a tall building with many lights. The main hall was dimly lit, with fancy lights at various positions. It was beautiful.

  The dessert cakes were lovely, and the wine tasted so good that my body needed to let some liquid out to accommodate some more wine. I excused myself and asked for the ladies. I descended on the toilet seat with alacrity and involuntarily heaved a sigh of relief as my pee gushed out in a sputter. I flushed and washed my hands, half staggering as it had been so long since I had that much wine.

  As I made my way back, I saw a staircase to my left and curiosity got the best of me. I wanted to see the rest of this fine establishment. But as I took the first step, I decided to turn back and return to my husband. I was already a tad tipsy after all. And just when I turned, there he was, staring keenly at me. No… not my husband. I mean the most handsome man I had ever laid my eyes upon. Or maybe it was just the alcohol, but he stood there like the Greek god of love, towering in his height and smiling at me.

  "Hey there, are you lost?" he said.

  CHAPTER 3

  "Oh... no... Sorry, I was just coming out of the, you know, ladies; and I guess I forgot the way," I managed to say. It felt awkward because it had been so long since I spoke to a man with no hint of hostility at all charging from my voice.

  "That's okay. I missed my way the first time I came here as well," he smiled at me.

  "Great. I guess I'll just make my way back to my table then," I said shyly, waiting for the slightest opportunity to leave.

  "I'm Morris Hanson" he stretched his hand for a shake.

  "Oh... yes; I'm Donna," I said and quickly moved away from him before things got any more heated.

  I walked briskly to where my family was and surprisingly saw Steve and Michael sitting with another woman in their midst. They seemed to be having fun as they laughed and talked. Michael had never been the shy one. He was always open and shared his emotions quite easily. That was how I had raised him. He never hid things from me, and he even told when he had sex the first time. Boys his age were usually shy about those things.

  "There you are," the soft voice of Steve boomed lightly in the air. I smiled.

  "Meet my wife, Donna Oswald. Donna, meet Lucy Hanson, my colleague's wife." Steve did the introductions quickly, and she stood up quickly to hug me. I hugged back. She smelled really nice. I had to ask her what perfume she had on.

  "Oh, and there's the man himself; my colleague, Morris. Morris, meet my wife," he said pointing behind me.

  I turned and almost choked in shock. Morris was the same man that I had met a few minutes ago. And he was smiling at me as he walked to shake my hand again. I tried to hide my shock, feigning a smile as our hands met. We shook for a generous amount of time before finally breaking it off when it was starting to look awkward. I glanced back to see if anyone noticed, but they didn't. Only Michael had a quizzical look on his young face.

  When we got home that night, we all stayed up late just talking in the living room downstairs. It was a big house, and I felt we would have no problems with awkwardly always running into each other. Morris and Lucy announced that they were going to sleep for the night and since Steve and I were still talking, they left us to catch up. We spoke for a while, and all of a sudden, there was silence, and I was staring at him straight in the eyes. I saw the fire burning beneath. I knew he could see the same in mine. His bright blue eyes became darker under the shadow of my presence. My eyes rested on his lips... wanting a taste; wanting to be caressed by those beautiful, soft lips. I paused and out of the blue, I suddenly felt his lips on mine. I felt the hunger in his kiss. We made the most beautiful love that night, and I was glad that I was back with my husband.

  We all continued to live together in the house. The days went by, and we enrolled Michael in a school. He seemed to like his new environment very much. He was thrilled when Morris and Lucy's daughter came back home from college, and he discovered that she was very beautiful. I knew he liked her. But she had to go back and so their time together was short.

  But the real problem was with me. I was attracted to Morris Hanson, but I struggled to fight it off. He knew I was attracted to him and I sensed that he was drawn to me too. But we were both married, and our spouses lived in the same house, so that meant nothing could happen between us.

  However, it was harder for me because Steve was not very eager to make love. He seemed to be bored b
y the idea of it and found something to say whenever I made a move. He spent more time at work than he did at home and I was forced to deal with my urges for Morris each day. I spent most of my time thinking about who I had become… the secret of the perverted mind that I now carried. I had so many things that I wanted to try… and explore.

  On one beautiful Saturday, I dressed up to go to the market and get some groceries. Morris was out on a business trip and would be back on Monday. But as I waited for a cab, another car splashed water on my dress, and I had to return home.

  I went upstairs to our room, but I did not find Steve. He was not in the kitchen as well. I knew something was wrong because I had not seen him leave the house. And then suddenly I heard a loud laugh coming from Lucy's room.

  CHAPTER 4

  I walked stealthily towards the room. Her voice became tiny and soft, rhythmically enveloping my ears and leaving me transfixed at its texture, that I could hardly make out a single word that she said... until I heard a chuckle. She chuckled.

  I was curious. I wanted to know what it was that made her laugh... or who it was. Who was she talking to? These questions left my thoughts floating on the Nile, lost at sea with no one to save it. But my stream of consciousness was sharply pinched when I heard something. It sounded like a whimper; a silent cry... but it was not of pain or anguish. It was more... subtle.

  I could not take it anymore. My knees lowered to the floor, and I crawled closer to the door and peered in through the small opening. I saw nothing at first as my eyes adjusted to the frame. And then the images slowly began to form. I saw her bed, neatly made, which meant she had not even sat on it. The reading lamp rested on a small table just beside it, and a magazine was atop it. Lucy was still nowhere in sight. I could hear her deep breathing and then another chuckle. I could not see anyone else.