“Yeah, I’m not much of a gambling man. I’m not a risk taker.”
“We could always wager something else.”
“Very funny. Never going to happen.”
I knew exactly what he meant. More than once, he’d suggested we involve Brooke in some kind of bet. If I ever did something like that, I’d be sleeping on the couch for a month.
“Brooke’s fun, she’d probably get a kick out of it. When’s she going to be home, anyway?” Carter asked.
“I’ll text her and ask.” I shot my wife a text. “Brooke’s a lot of fun, but I think that might be pushing it.”
“I’m sure she’s fun,” he replied with a chuckle.
He couldn’t know, but his suggestion of a wager pushed my buttons, and I couldn’t help teasing the idea. “What do you have in mind, anyway?”
Carter thought about it, and suggested, “Maybe we should have a bet on the playoffs. If my team wins out, she’ll dress up and be our cocktail waitress.”
I chuckled. I loved the idea, but it would never happen. “Yeah? What did you have in mind?”
“How about a jersey and high heels?”
“Nothing else?” I asked, amused.
“She can wear a thong underneath.”
“She’s got plenty of those.”
“I bet she does, with that ass.”
“That’s my wife you’re talking about,” I said.
“No offense.”
I laughed. “I know you stare at Brooke’s ass. She’s got a great ass. How could I blame you?”
From the time we moved in, Carter had an eye for Brooke. I didn’t really mind. I’m not the type of guy who feels threatened by that kind of thing, and if I am her type, then there’s no way Carter could be.
I’m in my early 30s, tall and skinny, with short hair a neat beard and black framed glasses. I’ve been accused of being a hipster, but I just think it’s the way people my age are. I just fit in with my friends. Carter is almost 50, rough, and if I had to pick a word to describe him, I’d have to say manly. He is a contractor, so he’s big and muscular, with rough hands and he usually has a couple days’ worth of graying stubble on his chin. He’s good looking, for an older guy, and he has no trouble with women. Carter divorced about a year before we moved into the neighborhood. It seems there’s a steady stream of women coming and going from his place, something Brooke has commented on, both to me, and to him. She’s asked me what I think he’s got going on over there, while she likes to tease him about the mostly younger women she sees. Brooke has suggested he install a revolving door. Carter just laughs it off and tells her she’s jealous.
There’s another reason I don’t mind the lingering looks Carter gives my wife. Going all the way back to my first girlfriend in high school, I’ve always enjoyed it when other guys checked out my women. It could be insecurity, that I need the validation, but I think there’s something more to it. It doesn’t just make me proud, it turns me on. I’ve encouraged my girlfriends to dress up in sexy outfits, with some degree of success.
Brooke naturally likes to look good, so it doesn’t take much effort to get her into outfits I like, even if I push toward shorter skirts than she would favor for herself. I know that sometimes she dresses up just to humor me. Brooke is well aware of how the attention she gets turns me on. Even better, she knows just how to tease me about it in the bedroom. She comes home and teases me about the guy who checked her out at the grocery store, or the UPS guy who lingered by her desk, even after she signed for the delivery.
There’s a darker side to my fantasies, and when I’ve pushed Brooke too far she’s pushed back. When I suggested that she get that UPS guy’s number and text with him, she gave me the Are you serious? look. I told her it might be fun to flirt with him by text, and when she realized I wasn’t kidding, she let me have it.
“You’d probably like me text him some sexy pictures too, wouldn’t you?” she said.
“That would be awesome,” I answered eagerly, not seeing the trouble I was in.
“You know that’s not going to lead to anything good.”
“It’s just a game, Brooke. It’s flirting.”
“He’s going to think I want to fuck him. Or is that what you want?”
“Of course not,” I replied, realizing she was angry.
“Sometimes I’m not so sure, Trent. I know what stories you read on the internet. It makes me wonder.”
“Brooke, I do not want that,” I said emphatically.
I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt. The truth was, that I did like to read stories of husbands sharing their wives, and maybe I’d had fantasies of Brooke flirting and things going too far, but I’d never want that in real life. How could I handle that? I told her all of that, but I could tell she had her doubts. She was willing to indulge me, but there was a line. Unfortunately, I wasn’t always smart enough to stay on the right side of that line.
It wasn’t the first time Carter and I wandered into that weird territory. During the two years we've been here, he moved from just checking Brooke out to making little comments when she wasn’t around. I’m sure it was just guy talk for someone like him, and I was proud to be included. Besides, I had other reasons to enjoy it.
“How did you get her again?” Carter asked. It was another running joke.
“Hey, chicks think I’m cute. I’ve never had trouble in that area.” It was true, which was why I didn’t lack confidence.
“Cute,” he said, chuckling. “Men didn’t used to be cute. We used to be men, and that’s what women wanted. It’s what they still want, if they’re honest.”
“I guess I’m lucky times have changed then, old man.”
Brooke chose that moment to return my text.
[Brooke] We’re wrapping it up soon. Should be home in a little bit. Carter still there?
[Me] yeah, but the game is basically over
“What did she say?” Carter asked.
“She’ll be home soon. She’s out shopping with a friend.”
“Tell her to get something sexy,” he said.
“Sure.”
Feeling crazy, I did it.
[Me] he says to get something sexy at the mall
[Brooke] how about this?
The text was followed by a hot photo. Brooke was in a changing booth wearing a simple, short black dress with a loose skirt and a low, oval neck. A second photo showed it dipped even lower in the back, with two laces crossing the open part. I could see an indigo bra strap across her back. The clingy fabric flattered her slim figure and high, round breasts.
Carter must have read my expression and thought Brooke sent a juicy response, because he asked, “What did she say?”
I only hesitated for a moment before turning my phone to Carter to show him the pictures of my wife. He snatched the phone from my hand and looked at the photos. I was nervous he was going to scroll up. Brooke had been on a tear lately, sending me sexy little texts and the occasional dirty picture. It seemed like now that she was hitting her mid-30s she was hitting that mythical sexual peak and expanding her horizons. If Carter saw that stuff, she would kill me.
“Damn, brother. She looks good. Brooke has killer legs. You should buy her that dress,” Carter said, grinning at the pictures.
He handed me the phone, and I replied to her.
[Me] carter says it’s hot. U should get it
[Brooke] u did not show him
[Me] I did. It’s just a dress.
[Brooke] ur so predictable.
After a moment, she texted again, asking: How about this? Another photo followed, and this time Brooke was in a little silver satin slip dress that buttoned up the front. It was suspended by spaghetti straps and had a see-through lace panel across the top, but she’d left the top couple buttons undone, showing the start of her cleavage. This dress was shorter than the last, and she would never wear it out without thick tights underneath, but she wasn’t wearing tights in the changing booth. Brooke looked scorching hot, and I fel
t my cock starting to throb. The dress showed a lot of skin, and I wondered if she would actually want me to show Carter this one. I couldn’t help myself.
“Brooke is fucking hot, brother. You should keep a closer eye on her,” he said, staring hungrily at her picture.
“She would never do anything. I don’t have to worry.”
“Guys are animals, brother. She goes out to the bar with one of her friends, she has a little too much to drink, next thing you know…”
“She’s careful,” I replied, trying to keep my voice calm. I’d had that fantasy more than once, imagining my wife drunkenly making out with some guy in a bar. I knew Brooke got hit on when she was out with her girlfriends, she told me about it, but she would never let things get out of hand.
The phone chirped again, and he handed it back to me.
[Brooke] did u show him that one?
It felt like a test, maybe even a trap, but I’d had a few beers, so I was truthful.
[Brooke] u better not show him the other ones I sent u. or this one
The next photo from Brooke showed her in nothing but her indigo demi bra and a black thong. She posed with her perfect butt sticking out. I was still marveling at that when a second photo followed, and this time she was full facing the mirror, just slightly leaning forward to show off her tits. There was no hiding my reaction, and Carter immediately demanded my phone.
“Let me see, brother.”
“I think these are for my eyes only.”
“Come on, don’t hold out on me. Think of all the things I’ve done for you.”
It was true. This was our first home, and I was hardly Mr. Fix-It. Carter was my go-to guy anytime something needed to be fixed up around the house. He was always happy to do it, and would never take any money. I think the hugs from Brooke were enough. He was right, I owed him, but still…
“Brooke would kill me, man. Seriously.”
“How will she ever know? Carter urged. “What about all those pictures I showed you? She doesn’t know about that, does she?”
Carter was proud of the women he bedded, and not shy about sharing the pictures they texted to him. Most of them were hot, even if they weren’t all my type. Carter generally liked the flashier type, all made up with their big tits hanging out, which impressed me more when he checked out my wife. Brooke was the opposite of that.
“If she ever found out…”
“How is she going to know?”
Brooke texted again.
[Brooke] u didn’t show him, did u?
When I didn’t answer, she followed with another, did u?
[Me] of course not. I’m just speechless.
[Brooke] good. I’ll be home soon to take advantage of that
Brooke knew she was torturing me. She knew exactly how I would react to seeing those pictures with Carter sitting right there. She was pushing my buttons, knowing I would be all over her when she got home. But she also expected me to do the right thing and stand up to temptation. Of course I didn’t.
Carter let out a low whistle when I handed him my phone. He spent a long time looking at those underwear pictures of my wife, like he was trying to memorize them. It was moments like this that fed my fascination with other men lusting after my wife. Watching Carter look at Brooke like that was like seeing her, and falling in lust, for the very first time, all over again.
Brooke is a beautiful, sexy woman by any measure. Highlighted, chestnut hair falls halfway down her back, and she’s got a crooked, smart-ass’s smile. Her deep brown eyes have a hint of an almond shape, thanks to her Korean mother, while her creamy complexion comes from her father’s Irish roots. She’s on the tall side, a couple inches over five-and-a-half feet, and most of that is her amazing legs. When she wears heels with stockings or tights, I swoon at the way they emphasize the perfect shape of her legs. Yoga keeps her tight, so Brooke has a toned tummy, highlighted by a little jewel that pierces her bellybutton. Her tits are nice and firm, perfect handfuls, that create a perfect silhouette in a tight shirt. But Carter wasn’t seeing her in a tight shirt.
The buzz I got from showing off semi-nude pictures of my wife was unlike anything I’d ever felt. Seeing a guy checking her out in a bar didn’t even come close. I’d seen men ogle her in a bikini on vacation, but even that wasn’t the same thing. Carter was seeing something that was supposed to be reserved for me, and it was intoxicating. I had to shift in my leather La-Z-Boy to hide my erection. I don’t know how I’d explain that to my friend. Carter stared at Brooke’s pictures like there was no end to the filthy things he wanted to do to her. I clutched my beer bottle so tightly I thought it would burst in my hand.
“Brother, you are the luckiest man I know,” he said.
“Thanks. Believe me, I know it.”
“Damn, she’s perfect.”
“Yeah. Brooke’s the complete package.”
“Do you have any other pictures?”
It took a long time to answer. My willpower was on life support. All Carter had to do was scroll up about a week. “No, man. I can’t save that stuff. It’s too risky.”
“That’s too bad. That’s such a fucking tease. I guess I’ll have to imagine the rest.”
Knowing he was picturing my wife naked gave me chills. He stared at that screen, and I started to think he’d never return my phone.
“Better give that back. Brooke is on her way home.”
Carter reluctantly returned my phone and took a long pull on his beer, almost draining it. He settled back into his seat, a big, overstuffed La-Z-Boy matching mine, and I was dying to know what was going through his head.
While we weren’t paying attention, a touchdown had been scored, and the spread was now 27-10, but the game was still out of reach for my team. I was ready to jump Brooke the moment she came in the door, but we needed to be alone for that.
“This thing is basically over. I should probably clean up before Brooke gets home,” I said, hoping he’d take the hint.
“I want to see how it plays out. Ryan could put me over the top in my league this week,” Carter said, settling in.
I wanted to suggest he do that across the street, at home, but I couldn’t do that to Carter. I just had to hope the game clock wound down before Brooke returned from the mall. I watched the game with him, but I didn’t see it. I just kept thinking about those pictures of Brooke, and the way Carter had looked at them. He wanted to fuck my wife, and I kept trying to push that out of my mind.
The clock ticked down and the game finally ended. The last four-and-a-half minutes seemed to take forever—even by football standards—but Brooke still wasn’t home. Carter kept taunting me about the game, but I hardly responded. I was too distracted. With the game over, I was ready to hustle Carter out of the door. He looked as comfortable as ever.
“I guess that’s it,” I said, pushing out of my chair.
“You don’t want to watch the double header?” he asked. “We can order food. I’ll pay.”
“I’d love to, man, but Brooke’s going to be home any minute, and y’know…”
“Oh,” he said, like he just got my meaning. It felt false. “Yeah.”
“It’s just, after those pictures I get the feeling she’s going to be in the mood. I don’t want to kick you out, but…”
“I get it, really. I can’t stand in the way of young love.”
Before Carter could get up, I heard the front door open. Brooke was home. I silently cursed, but hoped Carter would still make a quick exit.
“Where are you, baby? I’ve got some things I think you’ll like.”
“We’re back here,” I called out.
“Turn that game off. I’ve got something to show you.”
She must have missed the we part of my response. I could tell by her tone that she’d had a few glasses of wine at lunch with Stacey. No wonder she was feeling so playful in the changing booth. Brooke can be very flirty when she’s been drinking.
“Hey there,” she said, stopping short when she walked i
nto the room and saw Carter sitting there. She had shopping bags from American Eagle Outfitters, H&M, and Victoria’s Secret in her hands.
Brooke looked sexy, in an understated way. She wore a loose, sleeveless black shift with a pattern of tiny white flowers. The V-neck would show off that indigo bra if she leaned forward. Her legs looked perfect in black tights and ended in chunky black velvet heels. Her flowing, golden-brown hair had a slim braid going down the middle in the back.
“Hey, Brooke,” Carter said smoothly. “What have you got to show us?”
She smiled, and her cheeks went red under the light blush she wore. “I didn’t know you were still here, Carter. I thought you guys would have wrapped it up by now.”
“The game went a little late. I’m glad I didn’t miss you. What’s in the bags?” Carter asked.
“I just did some shopping. I had a girls’ afternoon while you boys did your thing.”
“I know. I saw the pictures.”
His smile was predatory. In my paranoia, I felt like Brooke could tell he’d seen all the pictures. If she figured it out, not only would I not be getting laid, but she’d strangle me. My eyes bounced between Brooke and Carter, and I thought I saw suspicion on my wife’s face.
“Really? Trent just passed the phone right on over?” she asked, eyes narrowing behind her black-framed, oval glasses. Brooke rarely bothers with her contacts on the weekends, unless we’re going out.
“I had to twist his arm a little. You shouldn’t mind. You looked great,” Carter said.
“Oh? Which one did you like the best?”
“I liked the first dress, but if we were going out on the town, I’d want you in that second dress. It was smokin’, and you know it. Don’t you, Brooke?”
I saw her doing the math in her head, trying to determine if Carter was giving her the whole story. The way he was looking at her, it was obvious to me he’d seen her almost naked, and I hoped she didn’t pick up on that.
“Thanks,” she replied.
“Did you get it?” he asked.
“The silver one? I could never wear that out. It was way too short.”
“Not with those legs.”
Best Hotwife Erotica Vol.3: Caught! Page 10
