by Jason Lenov
The Company Wife
A Hotwife Fantasy
by
Jason Lenov
Copyright 2017 Jason Lenov
Thirteenth Line Publications
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, companies, organizations, products and events in this book, other than those that are clearly in the public domain, are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, companies, organizations, events, or products, is purely coincidental.
All characters depicted in this story are 18 years or older.
Cover characters are models. Image(s) is/are licensed from:
depositphotos.com
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Table of Contents
Preface
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Also by Jason Lenov
Preface
This one's been banging around in the old noddle for a while now.
Sometimes you've just got to let 'em out.
Please enjoy yourselves.
Chapter 1
Serena
"That's one hell of a woman you've got there, Anderson!"
Dale Evenson's deep voice cuts through the soft jazz playing over the speakers in the room.
It sends a shiver down my spine but I don't turn around. Not right away, anyways.
He's talking to my husband. I know this not just because he said his name, but because every single time I bring Anderson to the Christmas party I hear Dale say that exact same sentence.
Dale's one hell of a guy. He's a tall, handsome, dark-haired man with ebony skin and dark eyes that have been following me through the office since I got this job three years ago.
Day in, day out.
He smiles at me first thing in the morning, leaning against the frame of the door to his office. It's always the same smile. Warm with the slightest hint of interest. Not enough for anyone to call HR and tell them he's flirting with me but enough for me to know he is.
No, I'm not full of myself.
A few days after I got the job, Dale called me into his office and told me exactly what he thought. He told me that he wanted me to get on his desk and spread my legs so he could fuck my pussy.
I just laughed because... well, because men like that make me laugh. Strutting around pretending they can have anything they want.
I did the right thing, mind you. I told him I was married. I told him all about Anderson. I told him who he was and what he did and that we had only been married two years and we were still in love.
I told him I was too young for an affair and that I wanted kids and a happy home.
He smiled and nodded as I explained all this and pressed the tips of his fingers together as he leaned back in the dark brown leather chair behind his large desk. Then he told me that I could come to him any time, that he'd be ready for me any time.
And for some reason, that turned me on.
So. Fucking. Much.
I love my husband. I love Anderson. He's good-looking, in a boyish sort of way, with his ruddy hair and grey-green eyes. He's thoughtful. He never forgets a birthday and he's considerate in bed. He's not ripped but he has a nice physique.
And every time we fuck, I feel bad for closing my eyes and fantasizing that it's Dale inside me and not my husband.
I feel bad for waiting until he falls asleep to pull out the big black dildo in the bottom drawer of my nightstand and sneak off to the guest room.
I feel bad for making myself come over and over again thinking what it would be like to be riding Dale's black cock.
I feel bad about all that.
But here's the thing. I haven't done anything about it. Not a single thing. I smile at Dale every day but not in any kind of flirtatious way. Just a friendly smile to say good morning even as I feel his eyes rake up and down my body.
It makes me imagine his hands doing the same thing.
Once a year, at the company party, I have a few too many drinks and work my way across the room in the direction of Dale so I can listen to him talking to my husband. I do my best to make sure they don't think I'm listening.
Once a year I hear him say the same thing. "That's one hell of a woman you've got there Anderson!"
Once a year I hear Anderson's reply. "She really is something, isn't she?"
It tickles my pussy hearing Dale talk to my husband.
Once a year I climb onto Anderson and fuck him like a cowgirl. Imagining what it would be like if Dale Evenson fucked me while my husband watched.
***
Anderson
Maybe I'm a sick fucker. I don't know. What kind of a guy...
Fuck.
Every damn year it's the same thing. Every year, before the Christmas party, I tell myself I'm not going to imagine it.
I tell myself I'm going to go, have a couple of drinks and talk to anyone but him.
Then we get there. I have a couple drinks alright and every fucking year he finds me, like I'm wearing some kind of Dale-magnet.
He finds me and he's always wearing that same wide smile. His handshake feels the same, strong and dominant. I can never help but look down at my hand disappearing inside his meaty dark paw.
Every fucking year as he talks I imagine the same thing.
I imagine Serena lying on the floor of his office. Or maybe she's on his desk.
Yeah. That's better. His desk.
She's wearing the usual miniskirt, white blouse, business jacket she always does.
Except she's not there for a meeting.
She's there with her legs open, leaning back on her arms.
Dale is with her.
His jacket is off and he's standing at the other side of the room with his arms folded over his chiselled chest. Handsome fuck.
He walks across the room, his Italian made brown leather shoes barely making a sound on the plush carpet. He shoves a hand, the same hand I shook, between Serena's parted thighs.
She gasps. The white's of her eyes go wide. The slick sound of her pussy splitting fills the room...
"That's one hell of a woman you've got there, Anderson!"
I nearly shit my pants at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his heavy paw slamming down on my shoulder. I manage to wipe the wince off my face before I turn around.
"Mr. Evens... "
Dale scowls and shakes his head, stopping me mid-sentence. "It's Dale. I thought I told you to call me Dale?"
He knows full well he did.
I know it too it's just... well it's just a hard thing to do. They guy's so big and commanding that it just seems natural to...
"You having a good time?" he asks.
"Huh? Oh, yeah! Sure! Great time!" I can barely put the sentence together. No matter how hard I try I can't get the vision of him and Serena in his office, out of my mind.
"You seem distracted," he says. "Everything alright?"
"Huh? Oh, sure! Everything's fine!"
I just can't stop fantasizing about you fucking my wife.
That's all.
Serena surprises me by appearing at our side. The hem of her dress is still sashaying from her swaying across the room, drawing attention to her finely
toned calves.
I can't wait to have her later tonight.
"What are you two whispering about?" she asks with a devious smile.
Dale smiles at her and answers up before I can say anything. "Just a little locker room talk, is all."
"Is that right?" she asks, raising an eye.
Suddenly, Serena's smile tightens and she reaches out discreetly to squeeze my hand. "I was hoping to have a moment with my husband, actually Dale."
Dale doesn't skip a beat. He lets his eyes roam down her curves, then back up. Right in front of me! "No problem. No problem at all," he says, his voice low.
Serena turns to face me. The color of her cheeks tells me she's had far too much wine. Which might be a good thing. Serena gets frisky when she's drunk.
"Had enough?" she asks.
"What, of this happening party?" I reply with a smirk. I catch a glimpse of Dale over her shoulder.
He's watching us. He's watching us and fucking Serena with his eyes from across the room.
My cock starts to get hard.
"Something interesting back there?" she asks. She starts to turn and look. She sees Dale and their eyes meet.
He makes no apology with his. Just stares and smiles at my wife.
When she turns to look at me, she's still smiling. "Was Dale checking me out?" she asks, taking another sip of red from her glass, her eyes not leaving mine.
Fuck that's hot. I could tell her. I could tell her right now. I could tell her about all the fantasies I've had. I could tell her about all the times I've jerked off to the thought of Dale fucking her and how fast it makes me come.
No. Now's not the time. Fuck. Will it ever be time?
"Yeah," I reply, doing my best to stay cool. "You know I think he was. You want me to go over and tell him what's what?"
Serena's smile turns devious. "What would you do, exactly?" she purrs. "Tell him he wasn't allowed to look at your wife?"
My cock hardens even more. Enough that if someone looked down there they'd see. I wonder if Serena will? What would she say if she knew I was hard? Maybe she'd ask why and I could finally just let it out? I could just come clean and tell her everything. Or maybe she'd figure it out?
"Does he look at you like that a lot?" I say, still smiling so she knows I'm cool even though I'm so fucking hot.
"Nah," Serena replies. "Just Christmas parties. When we're not both drunk I assure you," she says, trailing a finger down the front of my shirt, "he's totally professional."
My cock lurches again. What does that mean? Why did she say it like that? Is he not totally professional? Or is she just drunk?
I glance at Dale again. He's leaning against the bar, still staring at my wife. I wonder if Serena knows.
"Still back there, huh?" she asks.
I nod.
And then it happens. She looks down. Her smile fades for a moment as her lips part. Her eyes shoot back up. The smile returns. Slowly at first, it fills with mischief. One eyebrow moves up. "Anderson?" she whispers so only I can hear.
I swallow hard. My wife just caught me with a hard on while we were talking about her boss fucking her... or something. Right? "What?" I mutter, trying to laugh it off.
She reaches out and gently brushes my boner through my pants with the back of her hand. Just so nobody notices but me. Then she locks eyes with me again. "That," she whispers.
Chapter 2
Serena
My pussy's soaked when we get home just from sucking his cock in the car. I haven't given road head since I was in college and Anderson's never gotten it.
My heart is racing and we run up the stairs of the house and inside. I bite back a giggle. I'm still not sure if this is for real.
As soon as the door slams shut he's all over me. Strong hands peel away my dress and I'm naked in the hallway except for underwear and heels. I laugh as he lifts me up and sweeps me into his arms.
He's always been strong.
"Not up the stairs!" I shriek, then drunk giggle as he carries me into the living room.
He lays me down on the couch like a gentleman, but I want more cock. I get onto my knees in front of him just as his pants fall down.
I'm still not sure. I still don't know why he had that huge hard on but I want it so desperately to be for the reason I think.
I push out my tongue, staring up at him with the sultriest eyes I can muster and let him glide along it into my mouth. His tip is already salty and dripping precum. I give it a good suck, then swallow and pop off.
I love sucking his cock but I don't want him to pop before I'm done. As he tears his shirt away revealing the dark hair on his hard chest, I climb back up onto the couch and spread my legs.
My pussy's hot and gushing and all I can feel is how much I need him inside me.
He drops to his knees.
I feel the hard head of his cock press against my pussy. My body tenses with anticipation. I reach around and grab his eyes. I open my eyes and snarl. "Fuck Anderson, I need you inside of me!"
He can't take it any longer. He peels my panties to one side and slides his shaft along my soaked slit, lubing himself up.
I moan and my hips buck as he glides along my clit. I feel an orgasm start to boil in my core.
He takes himself in hand and aims his shaft at my soft, pink flesh, ready to press into me.
I look up into his eyes and give him what I know he wants. "Anderson, baby, please!" I moan. Then I moan again and close my eyes as the feeling of my husband sliding into my hot cunt overwhelms every other thought. His hot, hard rod shoots deep into me, stretching me out and filling me up. He pauses at the hilt.
The image comes from nowhere. It's not Anderson inside me, it's Dale. Dale's black cock is buried inside my pale pussy. Dale's chiselled abs are holding him up above me and my hands are gliding along his smooth black ass.
The vision is laced with guilt. Candy with poison inside. I make myself open my eyes as Anderson starts to thrust.
But... why was he so fucking hard at the part? Right when we were talking about my boss?
His cock starts sawing into me. I clamp down on him just as I look up. He's staring at me with that wild look he gets right before he's about to come.
Just a little longer, baby. I'm almost there.
My hips start rocking along with his thrusts as I grind myself against him.
I can feel the tickle start to move up my spine. The wave is coming.
I'm going to fucking come!
I look down at Anderson's cock disappearing inside my pussy. I reach out and grab my legs, spreading myself for him. "Come on baby, fuck it into me! Fuck me full of your cum!"
Anderson cringes, pauses for a moment, then breaks back into a hard fuck as he blasts me full of his hot cum.
***
Anderson
A climax tears up my back at the sight of Serena spreading her pussy open for me. I plunge deep into her as I feel seed pulse through my shaft and fill her insides.
Does she know something? Does she know something's up?
I can't believe she blew me in the car on the way over. I can't believe how hot she is.
I feel her pussy start to clench and she screams as her orgasm floods through her.
Grabbing onto her thighs, I rock into her harder, draining the rest of my spunk into her tight cunt.
The peak of the orgasm flies by and pretty soon the whole fantasy comes crashing down and we're just two naked people fucking on a couch.
Serena bursts into giggles.
I start laughing as I pull out.
"Watch the carpet!" she shrieks.
There's cum about to drip off my cock. I cup a hand beneath it and hold it up as I turn to head for the bathroom.
"Hey!" she barks from behind me. She's smiling as I turn around. "Come here with that."
Holy fuck! What has gotten into her?
I lower myself onto the couch beside her.
She keeps one hand on her pussy to keep the cum from spilling out. She pushe
s out her tongue.
I press my cock against it and glide into her wet mouth. Another tremor races up my spine.
She locks onto me with those angel eyes.
Fuck she's hot.
Her nipples start to stiffen as she licks and sucks the cum off my cock, swallowing back every drop. When she finally lets go, she does it with a noisy slurp that she knows I like.
I step back and get up off the couch.
Serena eyes me with a wry smile. "What about this?" she asks.
Before she can react I sweep her up and into my arms again.
She screams and laughs and pounds her fists against my chest but can't do anything. "Not up the stairs, Anderson!" she moans.
We're up the stairs before she can complain about it again. I set her down gently on the bed, then lie down beside her. I run my hand under the covers and cup her breast.
She giggles again, the single dimple forming on her cheek.
"What was that?" I whisper.
Say it. Just fucking say it. Tell her. She's drunk. You're tipsy. She has to know already.
"What was that?" she repeats, feigning shock. "What was that," she says, reaching down and grabbing my cock between my legs.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Serena says, hoisting herself up onto one elbow, "what was that hard-on at the party all about. You know, when we were talking about my boss?"
A bolt of adrenaline rushes through me. This is it. This is it. Just tell her. Just fucking tell her, man.
"Have you... "
My insides tighten up. Have you, what? Have you thought of how you're going to bring this up? Only a million times. Why, then, can I not find the fucking words now!
"Anderson?" Serena asks, her eyes searching. "What is it?"
I want you to fuck your boss.
"I... "
I can't. I can't fucking say it. I can't just say a thing like that. Right?
