Best Hotwife Erotica Vol.3: Caught!

by Kirsten McCurran

  “I guess I did. And I was really pissed. I knew if I teased Carter it would push your buttons. I wanted to leave you with blue balls. But then it snowballed, I don’t know. The way Carter looked at me made me feel sexy.”

  “You are sexy, Brooke.”

  “But it’s different when it’s another man, and it’s someone like him. Carter has his pick of women. It’s not like he had to. And then I could feel this energy coming off of you. I could sense how turned on you were getting. I really meant to just strip out of my dress, say something smart, and go. But then he touched me.”

  “Yeah, he touched you. And it was incredible.”

  “I don’t understand, Trent. Are you angry or not?”

  “I don’t understand either, but I don’t think it’s real anger. I think it’s shock, and insecurity.”

  She took my hand across the table. “I am not going to run off with Carter, sweetheart.”

  “He rocked your world.”

  Brooke couldn’t suppress her smile. She blushed and looked down. “He did. It was just like…wow…I don’t know.”

  “It was amazing watching you with him. You were so wild, so sexual. Seeing you come while watching, just being a fly on the wall, it was…I can’t even describe it. Maybe that’s what heroin feels like, I don’t know.”

  “You better not start shooting up,” she warned. We both laughed.

  “Brooke, you were amazing tonight.”

  “Tonight was incredible. I never thought I’d do anything like that. I didn’t even think I was capable of that. It’s like I was possessed. I turned into some kind of tramp. But I felt so alive.”

  “And you’d do it again.” I wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a question.

  “This is because of what Carter said.”

  “I want to know how you feel—what you want,” I said.

  “I don’t think it would be smart. I think you’re hurt, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “What if I wanted you to?”

  “You’re thinking with your dick. Is this even healthy for our marriage?”

  “We’re grown-ups. We can handle it. Actually, I think it could make things hotter. You’ve never been sexier.”

  “Thanks, I think.” She laughed.

  “So?”

  “I don’t need to.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m not going to run across the street tomorrow.”

  “I know.”

  Brooke smiled shyly. “But, god, it felt amazing. Amazing doesn’t even do it justice. Astonishing? It was astonishing. I feel like I found some things inside me I didn’t even know were there. It might be fun to explore that. It’s not the same with us. I love you, and I love our lovemaking, but it was so different…”

  “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know it’s not about how much you love me.” I squeezed her hand for reassurance.

  “I really do,” she stressed.

  “So?”

  “If you wanted me to…maybe. I can’t say for sure. This is still all so weird. I really need to think about it, but if you were okay with it—if we were okay with it—then maybe, yeah, I think it might be fun.” She stared at me expectantly.

  It was a yes. Brooke couldn’t come out and say yes, because she was afraid it would hurt me—dash my ego. And I’ve got to admit, seeing my wife come like that for Carter had bruised it, but my other desires overrode that. Now that I knew the truth. Now that I understand the depths of my fantasy, I wanted more. Brooke was probably right, I was probably thinking with my dick, but it didn’t matter. I wanted more. And Carter was safe. I did trust him.

  “I don’t want to pressure you, honey. Don’t do anything you don’t want to,” I said.

  “I know you have mixed feelings, but you loved every minute of it.”

  It was my turn to blush and look away. “I did. It was amazing. I just regret I didn’t think to grab my phone and record it.”

  “Don’t you dare!”

  I laughed. “I get it.”

  “I’m not surprised, Trent. The clues were always there. You were a little too into other guys checking me out, flirting with me. I always wondered how far you’d let it go.”

  “Were you testing me tonight?”

  “Not consciously. Maybe deep down? It’s okay, sweetheart. I mean, other people might think it’s weird, but I think it’s kind of flattering. It means you think I’m hot, right?”

  “It does—you are. I can’t explain it, but I get this buzz when I think about this stuff. I think I couldn’t admit how deep it went because it’s so wrong. A man should not want his wife to be with other men. I’m judging myself, and I didn’t want you judging me. I didn’t want you thinking I’m some kind of pervert.”

  “I don’t think you’re a pervert. And I know you had these leanings. I’ll be honest, though, if you’d come to me before tonight and asked me to do this, I don’t know how I would have reacted. I don’t know if I would have understood. I don’t know if I understand now, but now I can roll with it.”

  “Don’t feel bad.” I laughed. “I’ll let you know when I understand it.”

  “I love you. I love you more than ever. I know you have to have an incredible amount of trust to let me do this,” Brooke said.

  “I do trust you, honey. And I love you so much.”

  “So where are we?”

  “If you want to do this, I guess we’ll explore it, but we need ground rules. We need to be sure we’re on the same page. No more going off half-cocked.”

  Brooke laughed. “That was no half-cock.”

  “Haha.”

  “I know what you mean, and I agree. I’m not going to do anything just for myself. You need to get what you need too. We’ll see what happens.”

  Brooke left it open ended, but I knew she would be fucking Carter again. I could see it in her eyes. She wanted to feel that way again. I couldn’t blame her. I wanted to feel it, too. I just wasn’t as confident as I portrayed to her. I didn’t know that it was smart. I didn’t worry she would fall in love with Carter, but I worried she might lose herself in that feeling, and crave it more and more—just like I did. Only time would tell where this road would lead us.

  “What do we do now?” she asked.

  “Now, we go upstairs and I’m going to ravish you. I’ve never wanted you so badly, Brooke.”

  She smiled. “I thought you’d never ask. I swear, that left me hornier than I was before.”

  We went hand in hand up to the bedroom. As we undressed and kissed, and touched each other, all I could picture was Brooke in Carter’s arms, coming while she writhed on top of him. It was probably just guilt and projecting, but I felt that Brooke was remembering how he felt inside her while I fucked her. We both came incredibly hard and quickly. It was an amazing night, but it was the first step down into a sexy, uncertain future.

  the stranger in my bed

  by max sebastian

  I’d tell you that it was an unexpectedly early trip home from the office that really did it on that particular Thursday afternoon. But actually, it was more like the fact that for once in a very long time I suddenly found that my phone battery was dead. And I was usually so very good at keeping it charged.

  Why should phones have such an impact on our lives these days?

  I worked in industrial equipment. Our firm made big machines that shaped metal and produced components—for various manufacturing sectors including the auto industry. I did travel occasionally for work, but with my wife having to take care of two young kids, I didn’t travel quite so much anymore.

  On this particular Thursday, though, I not only needed to travel, I needed to do so without any notice. Our usual courier had messed up the delivery of a very important contract proposal, and we needed to get the full thing over to our potential client on a very tight deadline. My boss wasn’t going to trust a courier again, not on that job, and he wasn’t going to trust any junior member of our office staff with that proposal. So I had to rush home in t
he middle of the day, fill an overnight bag, then race off to the airport to carry the thing personally all the way to Cleveland, and make damn sure it got there this time.

  On my way home from the office, I found my phone battery dead, and also that I’d taken the phone charging cord out of the car the previous weekend to use in the house. The upshot was, I wasn’t able to text Diana to let her know I was on the way home, or that I had this sudden emergency visit to Cleveland lined up. I was just hoping she wasn’t going to be too irate about the extra childcare duties, and that I could persuade her that I could get to Cleveland and back in just one night and make up for it the next day.

  As I drove home to the suburbs, I concocted a plan to keep her onside, based mainly on the idea that I’d take a full extra day off, or be given one because of my trip, and spend the day with the kids so she could have some quality time off.

  When I arrived home, there was a strange car in the driveway. It didn’t faze me at all, to begin with. I think I assumed that one of Diana’s mom-friends was visiting, or perhaps Clara and Toby were having some friends over for a playdate. Only, as I entered the house and found no mess of toys sprawling all over the place did I realize that it was a Monday, when the kids were supposed to be at the nursery. Well, I felt instantly better about having to leave Diana to deal with the kids all night—she’d just had much of the day off.

  There in the living room I noticed a slightly unusual smell in the air, covered partially by Diana’s perfume—which she hardly ever wore.

  Funny.

  I was about to call out for her, to find out where she was so I could tell her all about my forced trip to Cleveland, but there was a most unexpected sound. It was a fairly high-pitched, plaintive wail, which made me jump to the initial conclusion that some kind of animal had gotten trapped in our home, a raccoon or a badger or something. I moved to the foot of the stairs and heard a series of quiet groans from upstairs.

  It was Diana, I was sure of it.

  My stupid over-optimistic brain decided at first that my wife must be sick, that she was in pain. Perhaps the doctor was up there with her, explaining the presence of the strange car in the driveway. But as I walked upstairs, the volume of the groans grew, and were joined by the noise of heavy breathing. I could no longer be under any illusion as to what was going on.

  A severe chill seemed to pass through my entire body as the realization hit. I stopped in my tracks, feeling overwhelmed by feelings, by the shock of this sudden news.

  Diana was cheating on me. Diana was fucking someone else—on our marital bed.

  Suddenly I had to work hard just to breathe, and to avoid collapsing from the unexpected dizziness. I was horrified. Stunned.

  And yet not, as it turned out, angry.

  Holding onto the banister at the top of the stairs, I waited for my light-headedness to pass. I was trying hard to keep calm and not overreact. Just then, I really didn’t want Diana to know I was there, didn’t want her to know I’d discovered her adultery. I wasn’t ready to figure out what I wanted to do about it, and I didn’t want her to feel forced into declaring her need for a quickie divorce.

  Jesus, we couldn’t get a divorce!

  I felt my heart squeezed, crushed, at the thought that the woman I loved might want to leave me. I felt sick at the thought of how our lives would change—the kids being forced to spend their childhoods split between mom and dad’s houses, mom and dad’s families. One Christmas here, one Christmas there.

  I felt distressed that Diana might feel the need to go to another man, for attention, for sex, for love. Yet I recognized why she might do such a thing. I don’t think I even blamed her for it, particularly. I just stood there, immobile, unable to face making a scene, unable to face the drama of catching them red-handed. I felt a strong desire to turn and flee, to regroup, to figure out how I wanted to let Diana know that I’d discovered her secret. What I might say to her about it when I did let her know.

  Did she still love me? Did our past ten years together mean anything to her? God I hoped so. Despite the stress we’d both been under since Toby had been born, she’d never given any indications that she didn’t at least still love me.

  What if she never found out that I knew about her adultery?

  She could have her little fling, and I’d just turn a blind eye. Life would be much simpler. I’d still be facing the terrifying thought that at any time she might want to leave me for someone else—confess all, and demand a divorce so that she could live with her new lover instead. But what if she just wanted a little meaningless sex on the side? Perhaps she wouldn’t want a divorce if her infidelity remained secret.

  I’d just let her do her thing, quietly, subtly. Behind closed doors. It might even make me feel less guilty about the fact that our sex life wasn’t exactly thriving just now, as the stress of raising two young kids got to us both. It would certainly make me feel less guilty about having to fly off to Cleveland for work at the last minute.

  Yes, the Cleveland trip suddenly seemed like less of a priority in my life. And yet standing there on the stairway, listening to my wife having the sweet bejesus fucked out of her, my brain took on a kind of ultra-rationality. I recognized that if I stayed here tonight to confront my wife and make some forlorn attempt to rescue my marriage, I might very well find myself out of a job as well as a marriage.

  In acting now to prioritize my job, maybe I could retreat and live to fight another day when it came to my marriage. I’d just have to call Diana from the road, or from the airport, and explain things over the phone. She’d deal with it. Hell, she was probably less likely to take to anger now that she had a new lover on the side. That had to be a perk, didn’t it?

  I took another quiet step upstairs, thinking that I might be able to sneak to the laundry room to find a clean shirt, underwear, socks—even if they weren’t ironed—and pack a small overnight bag for my trip. The laundry room was just two doors down from the master bedroom, however. Getting there put me closer and closer to Diana and her lover.

  I was terrified, but mostly at that point, terrified of getting caught by sneaking around.

  At the same time, as I ventured up to and into the laundry room, with the sound of my wife fucking some stranger on our bed intensifying, and the strange smell in the air strengthening to the point that I could tell it was most likely a man’s cologne, Diana’s perfume and the earthy scent of sex, I found to my complete surprise that I was sneaking around with a massive erection stowed away in my pants.

  God damn.

  My heart was pounding so loud, I worried they might hear me. Adrenaline was blazing around my blood vessels. It gave me the strangest sense of adventure, that somehow I was living life. Hormones can be very confusing, huh.

  I found some shirts hanging up, some underwear stacked on the dryer, although no socks. Socks I could do without, or I could buy at the airport or something. Well, it wasn’t as though I was going to Cleveland for a business meeting: I was going to our clients’ headquarters to drop off an important package. I didn’t need to venture beyond their lobby. I was a glorified deliveryman.

  So, I was all set to sneak out of our laundry room, head back downstairs and be gone—to treat Diana as though I’d never been there at all, as though I couldn’t have possibly found out about her fling with another man. Yet as I emerged into the hallway, I happened to turn my head briefly toward the master bedroom. I couldn’t avoid it—the sheer significance of what was going on in that bedroom, significant to me, to our family, to our whole way of life potentially, made it just irresistible to my curiosity.

  My heart nearly stopped beating as I saw that the door was open by a few inches. A jolt of searing heat tore through my body as I saw a glimpse of my wife lying on the lower edge of the bed, her legs parted, another man’s hands grasping her thighs as he stood on the floor, his own thighs pressed against the edge of the mattress as he thrust into her.

  I couldn’t see her face, couldn’t see her above the shoulders. I co
uldn’t see the man, either, other than his hands. But I could see Diana’s body rocked each time he entered her, I could see her bare breasts jiggle. I could hear him pounding against her now, I could hear his quiet grunts as well as her louder groans, her panting.

  Oh God. That pungent smell. She was so wet for him—and he was buried deep inside her. They’d probably been fucking all afternoon.

  How long had this been going on?

  Oh God.

  As I stood there, the nausea seemed to be wearing off. I still felt light-headed, shocked. But my breathing was calming down, my pulse slowing just a little. My conscious mind seemed to kick back in, allowing me slightly more sophisticated thoughts and feelings.

  I felt some sense of injustice creeping over me. Diana had done this without telling me—well of course she had, she was cheating on me. Yet it was more that she hadn’t told me of her underlying needs, the reasons she’d been tempted into adultery. She hadn’t come to me to say she felt I wasn’t paying her enough attention, that I needed to step up and initiate sex more frequently, even if we were tired and stressed. She hadn’t complained at feeling lonely since she no longer worked in an office, and no longer had that camaraderie of life in the working world.

  I felt a touch of annoyance, though I wouldn’t say it was real anger. That somehow it would be up to me to confront her, to bring up the dramatic stuff about knowing she was fucking someone else. Irritation that despite all the stress, all the hard work, Diana’s actions were going to force us to take on the stress of marital break down as well, and force me to initiate a big difficult talk about our future.

  I felt how strange it was that my marriage would break down. I’d never thought I’d be the type of guy who would ever have to deal with divorce. How frightening the future seemed now that it was suddenly so very uncertain, with the comforting predictability of marriage shrugged off.

  And yet, as I stood there and watched my wife turn over so that the stranger could grab her ass and enter her from behind, I also felt profoundly excited about my wife’s wickedness. It was, I had to concede, a massive turn-on to witness her misbehavior. It was so erotic watching her cheat, I couldn’t understand why. My prick had never been so hard, and was throbbing so much as I watched the stranger pounding her, hearing the thud of his body against hers, I felt suddenly ecstatic about her cheating on me—yet it made no sense at all.