The Tenant: A Very Naughty Hotwife Novel

by Butler, Arnica

  7: THE HOLE

  A few weeks went by like this, and I got way behind on work. I didn't even see John that often, and if I did, it was only briefly, as he walked into his apartment from his car. As far as I could tell, he and Anna didn't run into each other the whole time.

  It didn't stop me from obsessing about Anna and John. I was obsessing to the point it almost seemed unhealthy. I even went downtown by Anna's work one afternoon, like a private investigator, to watch her come and go from her work. She never did either, and the afternoon was wasted. I had spent it all on a park bench, with a Subway sandwich in my hand that I never took more than bite out of. I must have looked like a crazy person.

  I was a crazy person.

  And even as I sat there, waiting for Anna to swing out of the glass doors – what in the hell did I think I was going to do? Was I going to chase after her? Surprise her? She could be going for a coffee, for christsakes.

  But no, I thought, and I wasn't sure if it was a delicious or a sour thought. She could be going to meet him.

  And would I stop her?

  That was the real question.

  Would I stop her or would I follow her, and watch from behind a corner as they entwined their hands, and the wind blew her hair from her face so she could lean in and kiss him? Would I follow them to a hotel, and sneak around, stealing a bellhop uniform and putting a key-card in the door at the exact right moment like a spy? Would I creep into their room and watch John's hands peeling the clothes from my wife, until all that remained was red, lacy lingerie, purchased just for him, covering her hips and her pussy, her breasts spilling from the bra...

  All day long, I thought like this. For weeks.

  And then one night, we ventured into our side of the basement. I couldn't remember why. A fuse? A question about the water heater? I had been reading a magazine before something Anna told me to do had prompted us both to go down there. I had read the line: anticipated increase in mor- thousands of times, all the while thinking of Anna's lips against John's cock.

  Or, it didn't have to be John, necessarily. Sometimes I imagined that Anna was off with all kinds of men, or maybe many men at once.

  What in the fuck, I wondered, my eyes passing over a-n-t-i-p-a-t-e-d again, slowly, like my own anticipation. What in the fuck are you doing?

  I was just thinking.

  But I was thinking until I had a serious problem, until it was becoming an obsession. It was interfering with my work. It was interfering with our relationship. Anna had already tousled my hair and kissed me on the cheek the way she did when she had been talking to me about something important and I had spaced out. “Don't worry, sweetie,” she had said. “They're only like $2200.”

  This was the line that was supposed to get me to say: “What?!”

  And then she would say, “The boots. The boots you just said I could buy, no problem.”

  Instead I had stared into space, where I saw her legs spread before me, gushing with white cum from an orgy of men.

  So somehow, I had ended up in the basement. Anna seemed to be looking for something. I had next to no idea why I was there.

  That's when we heard it.

  The moan of a woman reverberated through the wall. I paused, my ears perked up in interest.

  “Oh no,” Anna said, in a low voice, and covered her mouth. We both remembered the last time John had brought a woman home.

  I froze. I almost felt like I was getting caught spying.

  Anna stopped, her hand over her mouth to hide her smile. She waved her other hand at me. Find it quick, her hand was saying, and let's get out of here!

  I moved as stealthily as I could, but we had pushed almost everything we didn't want to see or deal with into this room, and it was an avalanche of discarded pots and pans, clothing, books, papers, and various other items, waiting to happen. I stopped a slide just in time but had to throw my weight against it awkwardly and there seemed to be no way to extract myself. I had no idea what she wanted me to do or look for, anyway.

  In the meantime, John's low voice purred from the other side of the wall. He was smooth-talking his lady-friend, and though his voice was too low to hear what he was saying exactly, it was sexy as hell just hearing the intonation.

  I heard a gasp, and a high-pitched ooohhh!

  I pressed myself against the quickly-mounting mudslide of papers and books, and looked at Anna helplessly. She was no longer laughing, but was looking at the wall as though she could see through it. She was deep in thought, and a shiver of excitement went through me, straight from my heart to my crotch.

  She was definitely thinking about John, next door, and where his hands were. What he was doing that was eliciting such gasps from the woman with him.

  “Anna,” I whispered sharply.

  Her eyes drifted to me, and she stared emptily at me for a few seconds. Then, like shaking off sleep in the morning, she jumped to help me.

  Next door the moans had become more serious, more intense.

  Anna pushed on some of the papers so I could twist around.

  That's when the banging started.

  Almost like a scene from a movie, our renter John began to slam into his partner hard. The wall echoed with a loud bang, bang, bang, as the headboard slammed against the wall. Each bang was punctuated by a throaty gasp from the woman who was taking his huge cock deep inside of her.

  Anna was smiling, and her mouth was open in partial disbelief.

  Then the woman really started shrieking, as the pounding intensified. Plaster began to shake loose from the unfinished ceiling.

  Anna covered her mouth again, smothering an amazed laugh. Her eyes widened as she watched the plaster raining down on the piles of clothing and books.

  And then, right in front of us, a small chunk of plaster caved forward onto the pile, from where the pipes entered the room.

  I could see that a hole had just been formed in the wall.

  Ludicrous as it may have seemed, we now had a peephole right into our neighbor's bedroom.

  Anna reached out, without moving her feet at all, and shut off the light. Her mouth was open in disbelief, as was mine.

  It was embarrassing as hell. I couldn't believe the timing.

  As our eyes got used to the dimness, we looked at each other.

  The woman was still moaning. It was an intensely erotic sound, like nothing I had ever heard before. I could see on Anna's face that she was utterly curious.

  And the hole was right there.

  We looked at each other for a moment, and then she shrugged.

  She leaned forward, and she looked in.

  I watched her face as it contorted into the strangest expression. I had no idea what she was looking at, just that it seemed to travel beneath her skin and flush her face, make her breathe more quickly, make her hum with the energy of an excited woman.

  My cock was already hard, from listening to the ecstatic mewling of the woman. But now it began to pulse with an almost painful desire. I watched my wife and imagined what she might be looking at that held her attention that way, riveted, disappearing into whatever she saw on the other side of the wall.

  Could she see John? Was she looking at his cock, and was it enormous? Was she savoring the full view of his sculpted body, his ebony skin covered in a sheen of sweat, his purple cock erect in front of him, wet with another woman's juices? Was she wished she could reach out and hold in it her hand?

  Or was she looking at what John was doing? Was he moving his tongue over the clit of his partner with such expertise that she couldn't contain herself, and was Anna watching, longing to feel him do the same to her?

  Was the heat that flushed her face traveling down between her legs, melting through her skin as a liquid honey? Her eyes were getting wider and wider, her lips were parted. I was enjoying the sight of her, watching another man, fantasizing about him. I was going to enjoy sinking my fingers into the flesh of her pussy and finding it sopping wet with her desire for John. She wouldn’t be able to de
ny it.

  She brought her hand to her lips and kept watching. She had evidently forgotten I was there. The screaming was escalating now, and the pounding had started up again. The headboard was now smacking against the wall again, at an alarming pace. The woman was screaming obscenities now, and I could barely hear John's growling beneath her high-pitched screams.

  My cock was throbbing now. Anna seemed to have been so completely absorbed in the scene that she didn't even look over at me with embarrassment or apology. She was just hungry to keep watching whatever it was that she saw.

  The couple on the other side of the wall reached a loud, animal-sounding climax, and the pounding ceased. But Anna did not tear herself away from the wall. She kept looking. I could hear someone moving around, and the low rumble of John's voice.

  Was he standing up, showing his full body, glistening with sweat? Anna couldn't stop looking, and in her mind she was thinking about him.

  Finally, she leaned back, and the spell was broken as she blinked. She turned to me.

  Wow, she mouthed.

  Then she jerked her head to indicate that we should go back upstairs.

  I followed her, dizzy and lightheaded. Blood was rushing everywhere in my body except to my head. My cock was as hard as when we had started dating, as when I was a teenager.

  We had been married for five years, and I was hot for Anna all the time. Who wouldn't be? But the thrilling excitement of the beginning of our marriage had faded a little. We went upstairs and brushed our teeth, for example, instead of fucking against a wall in a parking garage.

  Now, though,I was so overcome by watching her, watching John, that I didn't want to give her the chance to make me wait all the way to the top of the stairs. I skipped up the last steps, and caught up to her on the landing of the first floor. I pushed her into the living room and grasped both of her arms, pinning her up against the wall.

  Anna was as ready for this kind of romp as I was. Her mouth was already open when my lips met hers, and we kissed violently. She bit lightly into my lower lip. Her body rose and meshed against mine; I could feel her hardened nipples through the fabrics of our shirts, pebbles on a plump cushion.

  I dropped her hands and put my hands on her neck, squeezing her lightly. It was a boundary we had often played with before, but had long-abandoned. I squeezed until her eyes watered lightly, and she bit my lip again. Her hands moved down to my belt buckle and began to take my pants off.

  I pulled away from her mouth, and looked her in the eyes. She met my gaze challenging me. She was panting lightly.

  “You sure liked watching John and his girlfriend,” I whispered.

  She bit her own lip now, seductively, and unbuttoned my pants. She was teasing me now, her eyes full of mischief. “So what if I did?”

  My pants dropped to the floor, and I felt her palm along the length of my shaft. Her eyebrows raised. “Evidently you enjoyed watching me,” she said.

  She grasped my cock, and squeezed tighter than I remembered her ever having done. She gritted her teeth, almost in an expression of anger. “Would you like to know what I saw?”

  I pushed her back against the wall, and squeezed lightly against her throat. I saw the corner of her mouth turn up in a smile. It felt so good to be passionate with Anna again, to be doing something different, something bordering on the unknown. I liked it when I wasn't sure of her reactions, when I didn't know if she was angry or filled with lust. “I want to know,” I said, “what you liked about what you saw.”

  She leaned her head forward, and placed her mouth close to my ear. “I liked the way John fucked his girlfriend like she was a three-dollar whore.”

  Anna had a filthy mouth. She hadn't used it lately, and hearing it now, soft and sultry, promising much more filth to come, I almost had to support myself against the wall. I pushed my hand between her pants and underwear, and her skin. I wasted no time being gentle, because it was clear that Anna wanted to imagine herself getting fucked like a three-dollar whore.

  My fingers found her neat, feathery pubic hair, and then the sopping wet folds of her pussy.

  “You really did like that, didn't you?”

  She nodded, and her eyes narrowed like a cat's as I slid my finger over her hard, silky clit. Anna had a big clit, and it was easy to find and sent her to shuddering in almost no time. I stroked it now, pleased to find it harder and more engorged than ever before.

  “Would you like John to fuck you like a three-dollar whore?”

  I pushed my fingers inside of her, and she pressed herself against me and shifted her weight to give me easy access. She mewled instead of answering, but the assent was evidence in her smile. I pushed deeper, and I went for it:

  “Would you like it if I watched you getting fucked like a little whore, by John?”

  She opened her eyes and me mine. She was smiling. Her pussy tightened around my hand.

  “Does he have a big cock, Anna?”

  She nodded.

  “And what would you let him do with that cock?”

  The heat in my own dick had spread out, beneath my skin, everywhere in my body, and now I was almost boiling. I didn't wait for Anna's answer to grasp her by the shoulder, and push her onto the floor. I ripped her pants and panties away, and I straddled her.

  She was still in her shirt, but her long legs were open between mine, and she was squirming in desire. I held my cock, hovering over her navel. I pushed her shirt up so I could see her flat stomach. Up, so I could see the bottom half of her tits, and her umber-colored nipples.

  “What would you let him do with that big cock, Anna?”

  I was speaking in a low voice, because I didn't want John to hear us.

  “Anything,” Anna said, flippantly.

  I stroked my cock. “Tell me details about anything,”I breathed.

  Anna moved her own hand down to her pussy, to show me that she, too, could hold out in this game. But she was having too much fun teasing me, talking dirty, and she said:

  “I'd want to feel his cock all the way at the back of my throat.” she held her hand to her long, swan-like neck. “It was so big though,” she mused. “I don't know if I could take it all.”

  I moved closer to her mouth, and I used my knees to pin her arms down. She smiled again, and watched as I guided my cock toward her lips.

  “I'd like to see that, Anna,” I said. “I'd like to see you take that whole, big cock in your mouth.”

  These were things I wouldn't have dared to even think of saying to Anna just last night, but something about the hole in the wall had made us both kick over any obstacles to our desires we'd been building.

  Anna opened her mouth, and I placed my hand behind her head.

  “Show me,” I said. “Show me how you would take it.”

  I pulled her up, and she opened her mouth to get my cock inside of her. The tip of me slid along her hard palate, over the soft back of her mouth, and into her throat. I kept pulling, and she kept opening, until her entire throat was filled.

  I looked down at her lips wrapped around my cock, and instead of imagining my own cock, I imagined John's. I imagined her lips stretching even more, almost splitting, as his thick, purple cock went deeper and deeper inside of her.

  Oh fuck. I was going to come.

  I pulled out of her mouth, and gave her an apologetic shrug. She seemed to know what it meant, and she spread her legs for me. “Fuck me hard,” she said.

  “Like you want John to fuck you?”

  She grinned. “You can't do that...but you can do your best.”

  Oh god. I wasn't going to make it very long.

  I moved my cock to her pussy, and I slipped into her. She was so wet I could almost imagine that she had fucked another man before me, and that she was filled up with his cum. Another man like John, who had fucked her like a whore and filled her every hole with his seed...

  I looked at the wall, to get the image of Anna's open mouth and wicked grin out of my mind. To try and banish the thoughts of her
face stuffed full of my cock, and the imagination it inspired: John's meat poofing her cheeks out, turning her face red as she choked on his cock.

  I was relieved, after a few thrusts, to feel Anna's cunt clenching around me, and feel her grinding her hips against my pelvis. She clawed at my back through my shirt and managed to scrape away some of my skin, even through the fabric. The pain let me hold on just long enough to feel her orgasm pumping at my cock. Her already wet pussy seemed to well up with even more of her hot liquid, the scent of her filling the air. She threw her head back on the ground and I hammered her only a few more times, looking at her closed eyes and hoping she was thinking of John, before my own climax exploded inside of her.

  I yelled as I came, and my orgasm ripped through me from head to toe. I thrust so deeply into Anna she yelped, but when I opened my eyes, she was smiling. She grasped my neck and pulled herself up to my face as I wound down, pumping the last bits of my cum into her.

  I collapsed on the floor, and rolled off of her. It was a hot night, and the windows were unusually closed for a torrential rain earlier in the evening. It was humid and I was covered in sweat; so was Anna.

  I pressed my forearm against my forehead. I was panting.

  For a moment we just stared at the ceiling.

  I didn't want to ruin the moment by opening my mouth and talking. I wanted to talk, and I wanted to see if Anna's participation in this little game meant what I hoped it did: that she was interested in returning to the arrangement we had before we got married.

  It wasn't a secret to Anna that seeing her with another man turned me on. And it wasn't the first time we had played a game like this. But all of that had ended a long time ago, and Anna had never seemed willing or desiring to return to our old games. It had been part of the conditions she had laid out when we got married. She hadn't wanted our marriage to get “complicated,” and I couldn't even remember when or where we had discussed it. I couldn't even be sure she had said that. It was just implied.

  All these years I had been hoping for some glimpse of the old Anna, the Anna who wanted to flirt with another man not just for herself, but to please me.