Nikita Gets In Too Deep: A Hotwife Exploration

by Arnica Butler

  “Okay,” she said. “What if...what if I did what you wanted...and actually, you know, did it? And then, as a sort of trade-off, you let me do something I want to do.” She looked at me, and could see I was having trouble seeing past my desires to remember what she wanted to do. With a sigh, she spelled it out: “Like make a video, and put it on the Internet.”

  “No way,” I said sharply. “No way are you putting those videos on the internet.”

  Nik's face sharpened to a venomous glare. “And why not?” Then she waved her hand at me, suddenly exasperated. “Not with my fucking face in them, Cole. Of course I'm not crazy.”

  I had no idea what to say.

  We sat in a tense silence for a second. “Look,” she said, taking on a nice-guy tone. “I can't explain it, not really well. But I haven't felt this excited since...” she looked at me, and I couldn't help but smile. “Yeah,” she said, “you're the same. It's been a long time. And I just want to try something new. And you're sort of pissing me off here, because so do you. So I'm thinking, why not kill two birds with one stone?”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “What's that supposed to mean?”

  She brought her fingers to her lips. “It means: I get what I want, and you get what you want.”

  I rubbed my forehead with the back of my thumb.

  “Okay,” I said, “you know what? It sounds enticing. It sounds fucking great. But what if...”

  She raised her eyebrows. “What if...?”

  “Well, what if it all goes wrong?”

  She was silent.

  “It seems,” I said loudly, “like it would be very easy for things to go wrong.”

  “Cole,” Nik said, and her voice was very, very serious. “You are the fucking American here. You're supposed to be like, 'oh, we can totally do it, it's no problem. Rah rah rah, Team America!' And I am supposed to be the...” she ended her sentence with a wet laugh, “the uptight Canadian who's like, 'how will this help me save for my RRSP, eh?'” She laid on her Canadian accent extra-thick at the end.

  I laughed in spite of myself. It was a common complaint of mine, to be sure, that Canadians were not risk-taking enough to even try a new soda. It was a much-needed joke.

  “Oh god,” I said, wiping a tear of laughter from my eye. “That was good.”

  “We need ground rules,” Nik said, looking straight ahead. Having made her joke, she was down to business.

  I knew the face she was making.

  It was Nik's face of determination.

  The matter was essentially settled. Nik was going to do what she wanted. I could see it in her face.

  And now, I could either help set up the ground rules, or I could end up in her wake.

  “Fine,” I said, to salvage my masculine pride. “Let's do it.”

  It wasn't entirely “fine,” and I didn't exactly know what we were doing, but it sounded better if I acted like I did.

  *

  In typical Nik style, we had to hash out the rules before we could get to anything else, like relieving the massive hard-on that I developed while talking about the rules.

  “So first,” she said, suddenly business-like. “We agree that if I do something you want – having sex with another man – then I get something I want.”

  I furrowed my brow. “I guess so,” I said, because it was theoretically right, but something seemed a bit manipulated.

  Like me.

  “So, you first. What are your rules about the internet?” Nik hammered on.

  “Uh...” I said. “I haven't really...I guess, don't put your face on the internet.”

  Nik frowned. “That's sort of limiting. How about a disguise of some kind. Like...I don't know? A masquerade mask-thingy?”

  I stared at her.

  “And a wig,” she offered.

  “Sounds like you've been giving this a lot of thought...” I murmured.

  She shrugged. “You know me, Cole. When I want something, I want it.”

  It was true, but I couldn't help feeling like something – or someone, specifically Mitch – was somehow tugging the strings of what Nik wanted.

  “I have a rule,” I said suddenly. No sex with Mitch.”

  Nik looked a little disbelieving, and genuinely surprised. She also seemed to find it funny. “I uh...okay. Why Mitch, in particular?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  She tapped her teeth again, thinking. “Okay,” she agreed. “Anything else? Anyone else?”

  “Nobody we know. No friends or anything like that.”

  “Nobody?” she said.

  “Why, did you have someone in mind?”

  She laughed. “Maybe.”

  I squinted at her. “Who?” I said, my stomach twisting into knots.

  She shook her head. “I was just joking. Okay, no one we know. No friends -”

  “And...yeah, actually, let's say, you have to get approval first.”

  “Approval of the guy?”

  I nodded.

  “And what about you?” she asked. “Are you going to be doing any of this?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  She thought for a second. “No. Not really. Is that unfair?”

  I thought for a second. “Actually, I guess...no, I don't...it's not really about that.”

  She smiled. “I didn't think so.”

  I shook my head. “This is a weird conversation.”

  She smiled at me. “It is. But let's have fun with it. I think it'll be good for us, you know?”

  It had been, so far.

  “Look, there's something that's really important to me,” I said. “And it's...I don't know, it might seem odd, given what we're thinking about doing...”

  “No emotional connection,” she said, nodding as she did.

  She seemed to have it all figured out.

  I nodded. But for some reason, her immediate understanding of what I was going to say was more disconcerting than reassuring.

  “Okay. What else?” I said.

  She looked at me.

  “Honesty,” I said. “We tell each other everything.”

  There was a pause here. Nik appeared to be thinking very deeply, dissecting the words. “Okay,” she agreed. “We tell each other everything from here on.”

  And then her hands were back on my cock.

  So we ended up with:

  The Rules

  No sex with people we know

  No emotional attachment to the person we have sex with

  No having sex with Mitch

  Hide your identity on the internet

  We tell each other everything.

  In retrospect, I should have been a lot more circumspect in the development of those rules. A lot more precise about the way I remembered them.

  But you live and learn.

  17 GAME ON AGAIN

  It was funny, but after all of that, we ended up spending the final two days of our vacation in Cape Breton like – well, Cape Bretoners. We went excitedly to Zach's one night, but the place was nearly dead and we ended up having a nice dinner and a relatively tame conversation about vacations, places we'd love to visit, and other neutral, middle-aged topics. Like regular couples, out for a regular dinner.

  Paige did some more surfing and naked sunbathing.

  Nik and I had great sex and sat on the beach musing about whether or not we would ever really go through with our new plan. We also spent a lot of time hypothesizing about our strange neighbors, and why they were here. I still deeply suspected that I would get caught up in some kind of con, but Nik still felt I was being ridiculous.

  “Still,” I kept saying. “Why are they here?”

  Nik would groan from under her hat. She had taken to wearing the delightfully skimpy gold bikini every day, and letting me protect her fair skin by rubbing suntan lotion all over her, on her chest and under the straps, under the fabric of the bikini for good measure, beneath the bottoms, where her snatch was almost entirely bare and her skin was smooth...

  �
��They're here for…Paige,” Nik would sigh. “I've told you that a hundred times.”

  I looked out at the weak waves lapping the shore. It still seemed suspicious.

  “And why did they make a video here?” I would continue.

  “Oh, you just never stop. Anyway. They're leaving.”

  And so were we.

  We liked teasing each other about our new plans, but as time went on, it all started to seem like a dream, like plans you make and then never fulfill. I enjoyed Nik's dirty talking about the man she was going to fuck while I watched, but it started to seem less and less like it would actually happen, and certainly not here. Paige and Mitch were leaving, and once they were out of our lives, it seemed unlikely that Nik and I would act on our “experiment.”

  It was fine. I was actually okay with that. In some ways I was disappointed, in others relieved. Nik seemed to have awakened a new force of sexuality inside of her without actually having to do it, and I got the feeling from her that she was also resigning to not really go through with it.

  Funny, that.

  I was watching Paige take in the last rays of afternoon sun, her erect, enormous breasts pointed like silos at the sky, her nipples hardened by a cool breeze coming off the ocean. It was a particularly lovely view because I was observing over the scantily-clad curves of my own wife. It was giving a mild erection – but only mild, because I had a fucked-out happiness radiating all over me. Nik had talked very dirtily about taking another guy's huge cock inside of her while on all fours with me pounding into her. She had even let me slip a finger into her ass, which we hadn't done for a long time. When she came her ass squeezed my finger and her pussy had kneaded the cum from my cock. All the while she told me how big “his” cock was and how it was stretching her out.

  It had been fucking amazing.

  Unnerving, but amazing.

  On the beach, Paige sat up, and slid her arms into a shirt with no buttons, a wrap of some kind that didn't close in the front and was made of a very thin white material. It was long, and came just to the bottom of the swell of her ass. It was the only thing she was wearing when she strolled at a leisurely, surfer-girl pace, to where we were sitting.

  Her nipples were dark beneath the fabric, and she had wrapped the shirt loosely in front of her, but I could see, from where I was sitting when she came to rest next to us, her smooth gash between her legs. “Hey guys,” she said, in her laid-back California voice. Her long hair picked up in the breeze.

  Nik removed her hat and smiled up at her. “Hiya.”

  I took a moment to appreciate my view, and my life, as I think any man who ever finds himself in the presence of two such gorgeous creatures, should do.

  “So, when are you two leaving?” she said. “We're going tomorrow. We thought we'd drive through...” She seemed to get distracted by something, and she looked at Nik, lowering her chin. “Montreal,” she said suddenly. “You know. Go to some clubs.”

  Go to some clubs. She looked at Nik as she said this, and the two of them exchanged such a salacious look that I practically came all over myself just watching it.

  Her implication was clear. Go to some clubs.

  Nik and I had been planning to stay in Cape Breton for two more days. I actually felt a sense of hopeless disappointment sliding through me to know that Paige and Mitch were leaving. And relief. I adjusted myself to it quickly, and decided it was for the best.

  But I was about to get sideswiped.

  “Oh, perfect,” Nik said, in her new-found sultry voice. “We're leaving tomorrow, too.”

  I looked at Nik, and she silenced me with her eyes.

  There were a lot of complications with this plan, namely that we hadn't packed, and we were running out of money, as we always did at the end of our vacation, and Montreal was thirteen hours away...

  Nik caught my eye again, and it was as if she could read my thoughts.

  “It's a perfect plan,” she said insistently, with a wink.

  And just like that, the game was on again.

  18 MONTREAL

  “Back in civilization,” Nik sighed, opening up the window of our far-too-expensive hotel in downtown Montreal, which I had used some air miles for, but was still not entirely covered. Nik left the curtain open and turned back to the room.

  Leaving the windows open, she slid out of her bathrobe and stood at the foot of the bed, admiring the red dress she had purchased while I was sleeping. My eyes went from her body to the window with trepidation, and I felt my cock getting hard. Was she an exhibitionist? Was she going to start doing this all the time?

  She slipped a pair of red panties – also a new purchase – up her legs and over her ass. A thong of lace wedged between her tight asscheeks, and she shimmied a little to get it positioned just right. She gave a little twirl. “You like?”

  These were the panties my wife would be wearing when she tried to reel in another man to fuck.

  She slid the dress over her head, squirmed a little, and pulled it into place. It was a stunning, form-fitting fabric with a deep gash at the neck, plunging down to reveal the curves of her breasts and even a bit of her sternum. The red complimented her skin tone and her dark eyes and hair. The dress was tight on her ass, but just long enough to avoid her looking like a prostitute. She looked fantastic.

  I stared at her nipples, the faint outline of which could be seen through the dress.

  “No bra?” I said.

  She shrugged. “It doesn't work.” She traced both of her hands along the deep plunge of her neckline. Then she smiled.

  I expected her to say: “Last chance to get out,” or something like that, but she didn't. She winked, and trounced into the bathroom, where she combed her hair and put on a red lipstick that perfectly matched her dress.

  And with that, we were off.

  My wife was going to sleep with another man.

  *

  The hotel we had stayed at was Mitch and Paige's suggestion. Apparently. They had somehow told Nik about it, though I couldn't see how there had been any time for that discussion. I was starting to get paranoid about those two. About the way they were all sharing information in some magical way, about the way everyone except me seemed to be two steps ahead with every plan.

  In the hotel, there was a club, and the club was, as Paige had apparently promised, quite hopping and hip on a Friday night. We met up with Paige and Mitch there, and we clustered together for a bit, having a few drinks. But Mitch pulled me away from the ladies. He didn't say much, but I knew he was in on Nik's plan.

  It sort of infuriated me, but what could I do? I wasn’t about to put the brakes on everything just because of Mitch. Who, I reminded myself, was out of the running.

  I was thankful Mitch didn't much want to talk. He was watching his own wife.

  Or maybe mine. It was hard to tell.

  But Nik and Paige, for a long time, just seemed to be flirting with each other. They started dancing before anyone else did, and they were having a great time hanging all over each other and laughing. It was quite a sight, and they had the full attention of every man in the place (and a lot of dark looks from all the women), but no one seemed brave enough to approach them.

  Until they walked in.

  As soon as the group of three guys – all of them athletic, enormous, pressing out against their expensive shirts – walked into the club, the energy changed palpably. Women turned in their direction, even if they didn't actually turn in their direction. Guys sort of shriveled and cowered, or bristled – even if every action was minute, it was there. These were the real men in the club now.

  And they turned to Nik and Paige.

  “Game on,” Mitch murmured.

  And just like that, I watched Nik and Paige turn from giggly to serious. The men looked at them with hardened, hungry stares. My cock throbbed as the two groups gravitated toward each other.

  This really seemed to be happening.

  Would Nik end up with one of these men? The very tall, dark-haired whi
te man with stubble on his face? Or the sandy-haired blonde, a little smaller, but wolf-like in his eyes? Or would she end up with the largest man of them all, the dark-skinned, well-shaven, hard-eyed black man?

  I lost all sense of time. The groups merged together. I heard Paige's low voice, Nik's crackling laugh.

  Drinks were bought.

  After about half an hour, when it was clear the men were going to stick to these two ladies, Mitch and I moved closer to the bar, where we could hopefully overhear what the group was talking about. I felt my skin tingling with excitement, and the back of my mind playing out the possibilities for the evening. It really seemed like this was the night: Nik was going to go through with it, and I was going to get to see her with another man.

  “Paige, huh?” I overheard the large black man saying, in his deep and slightly accented voice. “And Nikita?”

  Paige moved flirtatiously to affirm what he had said.

  “Hmm,” he rumbled. “I would have thought it was the other way around.”

  I saw Nik bristle in my peripheral vision. “Oh yeah?” she said. “And why's that?”

  The man looked her up and down, and chuckled. “Just...Paige here seems more like a Nikita.” His accent, a dark, African French, clung to the name and made it sound perfectly filthy.

  I turned at this point, because I wanted to actually see Nik's reaction. “And why's that?” she said.

  I could see a competitive blush crawling over her face. It was at that moment I knew that Nik was not only going to go through with her plan, she was beginning to see it as a mission to get under the skin of this particular man. Her eyes narrowed.

  The man chuckled again, and I could see his interest pique. He was now taking in my wife, and her viciously competitive, huntress eyes. He was giving her the once-over she had certainly deserved, but which he had probably neglected to do because Paige was such a sexpot and drew so much attention to herself.

  I watched the man's eyes move over Nik's body, lingering on her pert breasts, undressing her with his eyes. Nik's face, for her part, had a bright flush of triumph on it. She put her hand on her hip, drawing attention to her narrow waist and flat stomach. She gave her hair a toss.