Nikita Gets In Too Deep: A Hotwife Exploration

by Arnica Butler

  Then he left the table, and he walked right past Paige and her two “friends” on his way out the door. Paige waved at him, and blew him a kiss. They exchanged, to Nik and my infinite confusion, a thumbs-up.

  Nik poured herself some more wine from the bottle, emptying it. “What the fuck is going on on?” she whispered to me.

  I mean, it was obvious, wasn't it? In a way? Surely Nik thought the same thing I did?

  We watched, as though it were a movie now, as Paige continued to flirt. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, and she leaned over the table to say something while she drew lazy circles on the surface with her finger.

  The guys were practically salivating, whatever she was saying. But they too, exchanged a look of disbelief at whatever it was she was telling them.

  “They can't be...like, she isn't going to...?” I murmured.

  Nik gulped the wine. She hit me gently on the back of the arm when Paige – and her two friends – stood up. Paige led the way, her hips swinging from side to side.

  A full minute passed as we stared at the door they had left by, and then Nik covered her mouth to stifle a wet laugh. “Are they swingers?” she cried. “Did we just...did they just...?”

  I shook my head and looked around for the waitress. I needed a beer.

  “With those two guys!” Nik said. When I looked at her she was wearing her “flabbergasted” face.

  I played with the neck of my beer bottle and looked at the wall behind where Mitch had been sitting. “I don't know,” I said coyly. Then I shrugged.

  Here it should be pointed out that I said this with plenty of “jokey” tone, so that if, as I anticipated, Nik was completely horrified by the idea and wanted me to be joking, I could claim that I was joking.

  Part of me, though, was serious, as I made the following suggestion:

  “Might be kind of fun, wouldn't it? Hot night, two hot guys...” I let my voice trail off suggestively.

  Nik was staring at me, open-mouthed.

  She was scandalized.

  But she was happy-scandalized.

  She was a little drunk, I could see. She hit me with the back of her hand again.

  We grinned at the wall.

  “And what's with Mitch?” she said, abruptly. “I mean...is he going to pick up a girl or something...or...” she turned to me. Her eyes were alight with gossipy delight. “You don't think he's like, bi- or something? And then...but those two guys were not. How does that even work, I wonder?” She bit her lip and smiled.

  “I think he just wants to watch,” I said.

  Nik crinkled up her nose and looked at me in absolute confusion.

  “What?”

  The waitress appeared and I begged her for a beer.

  Now it was my turn to have fun. “How are we gonna eat all these oysters?” I said. “Maybe we should get a doggie bag-”

  “We don't have a dog,” Nik said, slapping me lightly for a third time with the back of her hand. “Don't change the subject. What do you mean, 'he's just going to watch?' Did he tell you that? Come on, dish the dirt.”

  I looked at Nik. Now this was promising: her eyes were lit up and she was getting excited and flushed. Which, if I had thought about it, should have been a sign that something was up with my wife.

  “He didn't say anything,” I said, slowly, really dragging out the suspense. “Just...”

  “Just what?”

  I shrugged. The waitress set a beer down next to me and I took a slow draw of it.

  “Cole,” Nik said sharply.

  I set the beer down. “I mean, it's hot, right? Watching your wife with another guy.”

  “What?!”

  I shook my head sincerely and crossed my own chest like I had entered a church. “Not me,” said quickly, but with a teasing smile. “Not me, just...some guys. Certain men.”

  Nik's mouth stretched open wider and wider, and it was really quite lewd what I thought of at that moment. “No way,” she said. “You really are into it, huh?”

  She said this almost like she had made the wrong bet on a horse. A little regretfully.

  “I'm not...it's just...it's a thing,” I assured her.

  “For who?” She was amused.

  “Well,” I said, looking back at the door. “Mitch, for one.”

  She continued to look at the wall. She took a sip of my beer, because she had polished off all the wine. She was shaking her head.

  “But not you?” she said suddenly.

  I had no idea what her tone was. Hopeful? But hopeful that I would say “yes?” Or “no?”

  What to answer here?

  I shrugged. My motto in life is to be the kind of guy that everyone thinks is always joking. This way, you can claim to have been making a joke whenever you were serious about something and it went awry.

  “I dunno. I could get into it.”

  “Stop it.”

  “I could. It was sort of hot, watching you flirt with those two...”

  “I wasn't flirting!” she said, indignantly.

  “Sure.”

  “I wasn't!”

  But she was smiling now, winking without winking, playful and teasing.

  She lowered her voice. “You think she's like..I don't know...having sex with both of them?”

  “I hope so,” I joked.

  Nik covered her mouth and giggled, which was a surprising reaction from her, in a way. I say “in a way” because Nik was usually competitive and a little uptight, but she was also occasionally (and only ever occasionally) a real firecracker.

  “God,” she remarked. “This is seriously the craziest thing I've ever seen with my own two eyes. I mean, I knew people did this but...” she smiled.

  “Well, we should do it!” I said jovially. It should be noted that this suggestion was maybe, 87% joke and 13% serious. It percolated up into my consciousness that Nik's competitive spirit could be capitalized upon here, but I myself was only into the idea in theory at that point. I didn't really believe Nik would take anything I was saying seriously. “Can't have Mitch and Paige having all the fun, being hotter than us.”

  There was a moment, after I said this, and I have no idea how long it lasted. To me, in my memory, it seemed like an eternity. Nik's eyes narrowed just slightly in competitive determination, a flush moved across her cheeks, her eyes seemed to boil to lighter shade of brown. Her jaw moved slightly from side to side – just ever so slightly – and for a moment her face froze in this expression; behind her countenance I could almost see the quick mechanics of her mind on high. The air between us seemed to be turning to plasma, rippling in the heat.

  Then her face softened, and she laughed.

  But she said:

  “Maybe.”

  Her voice was teasing, and she gave me a final, glinty flash of her pretty eyes, before she dove into the remaining oysters, and said no more.

  “You shouldn't eat those,” I said, because I could think of nothing more at that moment, I suppose, to say. “They've been out.”

  Because Nik was joking, of course...right? She wouldn't actually consider doing something like that? I was joking, right? I wouldn't want to watch my wife sandwiched between two young men, taking their cocks inside of her…

  Nik ran her eyes over me as I was thinking, and I almost felt like my fantasies were exposed to her.

  My cock was hard, and my skin was tingling. I sought out the waitress and asked for the number to a cab company. I wanted to get home and talk Nik into hopping into bed.

  *

  Nik, however, surprised me by not needing any talking into bed. Two minutes into the cab ride, she slid her hand between my legs, along my thigh, and then drew it back so that her pinky finger grazed my cock. She smiled when she discovered that I was already hard.

  She didn't do much else on the way home, but she moved her hand occasionally, as if to make sure that I was still turned on. She looked out the window, which she had rolled down. Her hair blew around and tickled my arms.

  I followed her i
nto the house after paying the cabbie, and she turned around and pounced on me, throwing her arms over my shoulders and kissing me wetly. I would have made some kind of comment of surprise, but she didn't release me, and pretty soon we were headed toward the bedroom. Nik slid her hands down my chest and into my jeans as we walked, and she dug in and closed both of her hands around my cock. A shudder went through me and she smiled.

  “Whoa,” I finally managed to say, when she released my mouth for a breath. She stood back from me and pulled the dress over her head.

  “What's with you?” I stammered, but I was also stripping off my clothes as fast as I could and instantly regretted the question. If your wife, after all, is interested in having sex, don't ask questions. That was the one thing I had learned from marriage.

  Nik's chest rose and fell with excited breathing. “I just...” her eyes were bright. She covered her mouth. She giggled. Then she fell toward me and her hot skin was suddenly touching me everywhere.

  I pulled on her bra from the front, and her breasts popped out. I moved quickly down her neck and chest to take one of her delicious nipples into my mouth. I felt her body stiffen along with her nipple, and I bit lightly into her to get her to squirm. She buried her fingers in my hair and grasped tightly.

  Inspired, I reached behind her and grasped her ass, pushing my hands under the transparent mesh of her black underwear, and I (sort of) lifted her to throw her on the bed. She laughed and I fell on her, pulled at her panties from the top to get rid of them.

  She surprised me further by whispered into my ear, as I came up to kiss her on the mouth: “Will you go down on me?”

  I widened my eyes in surprise, but my brain was ready for this one: don't ask questions.

  Nik wasn't really into oral sex, in either form, which was a little annoying for obvious reasons, so I headed down before she changed her mind. I trailed my lips over her abdomen, and was pleased when she rose up to meet my mouth and her skin turned bumpy with excitement. I pulled her underwear away as I moved down, and I lifted my body to pull them down her legs.

  I used my thumb to pry her lips open, and I was surprised when the tip of my thumb met with a sea of hot, sticky liquid, coating her outer lips, welling up from inside of her. When I pulled her open, her gash was soaked and the scent of her body filled the air.

  I was as hard as I had been in a long time, and this was certainly as wet as Nik had been in a long time, too. I tried to control myself, lapping first at her outer lips, then trying to move slowly and delicately into the center of her gash. I flicked my tongue at her clit and she gasped.

  But Nik herself seemed to have no patience. She grabbed me by the back of my head and pushed me deep into her folds. My mouth filled up with her excitement, and she pushed so hard I had to struggle to find the places I wanted to give my attention to. I used my tongue to explore, and dipped into her searing hot, soaked hole. She was quivering inside, pulsing with anticipation. I moved up, and my tongue found the hardness of her clit, tricky and slippery in the rest of her flesh. I pressed against it, and began to move my tongue in rapid butterfly kisses over her knob.

  She pulled on my hair and arched her back to shove her cunt into my face. She began to grind against me, and then I felt her whole body tensing with her oncoming climax. Her stomach moved in waves, faster and faster with her squeaking breath, and then she threw herself back against the bed and screamed as she came.

  I entered her after that, and I was so wound up that it didn't take long for me to come inside of her.

  She was sleepy by then, sort of drifting off. She kissed me.

  “That was...fun...” I said, hoping to rouse her to talk to me a little.

  “It was,” she said, her voice already drifting away. She had a sweet smile on her face.

  Soon, she was asleep.

  I kissed her on the forehead, counted my lucky stars, and nodded off happily.

  4 THE NEXT MORNING

  I was up early, because I rose at a quarter to four every morning to be at work. By five I was wide-awake, even though I would have loved to sleep. The sheets and the bed reeked of our lovemaking from the night before. But I didn't want to disturb Nik with my impatient tossing and turning, so got up and went to the kitchen quietly, savoring the memories of the night before.

  Paige was out in the water early in the morning, on a surfboard. She had a wetsuit on this time, which was still very pretty to look at, but a little disappointing. Her shapely form was silhouetted in the low morning sun, and I felt a little twinge of excitement in my pants.

  I decided to take my coffee outside and walk along the beach, as if I took my coffee there every morning. Perhaps I would bump into Paige as she surfed up to the shore.

  She was floating on her board about two hundred meters out, but extended her hand and waved. I waved back, again with a little twinge of excitement electrifying my lower region. In my peripheral vision, however, I saw movement, and when I turned I was embarrassed to see Mitch, who was undoubtedly the real recipient of Paige's wave. He was also holding his coffee and strolling on the beach.

  “'Morning,” I said, trying to sound casual.

  Mitch took a sip of his coffee. “It is,” he said. He looked into his coffee mug with a frown. “This coffee is shit,” he stated.

  Then silence, as we looked out on the gray water and his big, beautiful wife floating on the waves. She seemed to have very little interest in surfing in, which I wanted desperately to see.

  Of course, boiling in the back of my mind was my curiosity. I could feel it building steam and getting ready to burst out of my head. I looked into my coffee mug.

  “So...did you two have a nice night?” I said, and I regretted the question immediately because I sounded like an idiot.

  Mitch grinned and took a sip of his coffee. “That,” he said. “Fortuitous. We didn't expect to run into anyone up here except -” He cut himself off and smiled at me. “And they weren't even...you know...in the lifestyle.”

  I had two choices here: one was to look cool, like I knew all about whatever he was talking about. I had an adolescent locker-room feeling creeping over me, and I didn't want to be the asshole who got called out for not knowing what a clitoris was, for example. At the same time, I really was curious, and if I didn't ask Mitch, I might never meet a real life swinger again.

  Also...

  I looked out at Mitch's glorious and apparently libertine wife, bobbing on the waves.

  “I don't want to sound like an idiot,” I said, and my voice was inconsistent, loud and then soft and then squeaky. “But...I mean, I've heard the term 'lifestyle,' but what does it...like do you guys do this all the time, or like, have a club, or what?”

  Mitch looked at me pointedly. “A club,” he said dryly, and I had no idea how to take his tone.

  I felt like an ass.

  “No, there's no club,” he said, and his voice was unexpectedly friendly. “It's just a lifestyle. Paige,” and here he thrust his coffee cup in his wife's direction, “wears an anklet.” Paige was hopping, at that particular moment, onto her board. She was agile and rose to a casual, easy balance, gliding in on a large wave with such ease that she almost looked bored.

  It was then that I noticed that on her left leg there was, indeed, a slender strip of gold.

  “Anklet?” I said.

  “Most people don't know about it, of course,” Mitch said. “But some people do.”

  “Anklet?” I repeated.

  “If a woman is wearing an anklet, it's a sign she's a hotwife.” He read the confusion on my face. “A swinger, you might say.”

  “So you're swingers,” I said. I knew I was sounding a little thick. I narrowed my eyes. “So if a woman has an anklet it means she's a swinger?”

  Mitch smiled and shook his head. “No, man. A hotwife. Hotwife is different.”

  Paige had picked up her board and was trotting toward us. She pulled on the zipper of her wetsuit, and the material burst open to reveal that she was not wearing a
nything else beneath it. The swells of her breasts were exposed almost to her nipples, and as she jogged lightly, I prayed for the motion to coax her zipper a little lower.

  Lamentably, it did not. She stopped close to us, panting a little, and slicked her hair back. As she did, the neoprene folded and I caught a glimpse of her left breast in its entirety: a big areola of pale caramel, and a hardened, long nipple in the center. The shape of her tit was so round it was almost spherical. I wondered if they were fake, although they seemed natural enough.

  “What are you two chatting about?” she said, and her voice was breathy.

  “No good waves?” Mitch said, to my disappointment: I would have loved dearly to talk about what it meant to be a hotwife. I looked down at the strip of gold that was draped around her calf, slouching sexily over the bump of her ankle-bone. The sight of the chain caused a surge of excitement to pass through me, and I felt myself stiffening in my shorts.

  “No,” Paige breathed, still sounding like she was exhausted from a bedroom romp. “Sort of dull.”

  She took Mitch's coffee mug and took a sip.

  “Cole here was just asking about your anklet,” Mitch said, and Paige's eyes widened. It was almost as if they shared some kind of joke about it.

  I felt my face flush.

  Paige turned to look at me, however, with a totally open expression. Her blue eyes were wide open and welcoming. She turned her ankle toward me and looked down her own sculpted leg at the slender band. “Nice, huh?”

  “Uh..yeah...it's...” I was floundering. I briefly had the thought that Mitch was pulling my leg, setting me up to say something stupid.

  “Or...oh, you're talking about the anklet,” Paige said, looking up at me and winking. “Well, don't let me interrupt. I need a towel.”

  She trotted away, toward the Smiths' cottage. We both watched her go. When she was still about ten meters away from the house, she pulled her wetsuit down and exposed her bare back to us. When she stepped on the porch and took the whole thing off, jiggling and shimmying out of it, leaning over and showing her bare ass, and between it a shadow where her bare snatch was nestled.