Coaching my Wife: A Hotwife Romance

by Jason Lenov

  A coy smile this time. "You really want to know?"

  Something about the way she said it made my insides tighten. "Of course I do."

  "I was thinking about it. I was thinking about the guy. The one from the bar. Are you mad?"

  A punch to the gut. I hated when she ended with a question like that. It put me on the spot without letting me collect my thoughts. "Uh...no. I'm not mad. Why would I be mad?"

  Except I was a little mad. Or, not mad, really but definitely knocked off balance. Thinking of another guy fucking her made her play like that? Yeesh. This I had not anticipated.

  "You're mad," she said, sounding certain.

  I sighed. "I'm not mad, it's just..."

  What? What was it? Why would this particular thing get under my skin. I pushed through the doubt and anger that threatened to well up and come pouring out. When I'd been thinking about her in bed with another man, when I'd shared it with her, it was...easily controlled. There was time to think and choose words and ask for reassurance if I needed it. Somehow it felt like her taking that and turning it into the best game I'd ever seen her play was...it felt like she'd cheated. Like she hadn't played by the rules. Our rules.

  "I'm not mad." It came out sounding a little mad. "But how the hell does thinking about fucking another guy make you do that?" That came out sounding even more mad.

  She shrugged, still staring at the ceiling. Like she couldn't feel that I was upset by it. Or she didn't care. "I don't know. It was just...I felt sexy as fuck out there."

  Sexy as fuck Natalia did not say things like sexy as fuck. Not when it came to the game.

  "Well, shit," I said, trying to rile her up a little by swearing. "I guess you should just make that the new game plan then. Hell, maybe you don't need me anymore!" I couldn't help throwing the last part in. I knew what it sounded like. It sounded like a wounded puppy act. I wanted to kick myself for that.

  "See? You are mad." Not a single note of apology in her tone.

  "Fine!" I barked, stomping towards the bathroom. "Maybe I am a little fucking mad!" I slammed the door harder than I'd meant to. I'd worked myself up into quite a piss. Her comments weren't helping. Not sure what I had planned on doing in the bathroom, I pretended to take a piss, managed to simmer down and took a few deep breaths, getting ready to explain.

  Except when I came out she was gone.

  A bolt of nerves tore through me. Natalia didn't walk away from conversations. Hell, Natalia didn't fight. My Natalia sat and listened to what I said, considered it carefully and then did what I told her. Natalia didn't leave. I quelled the sudden panic that rose in me from nowhere. Had I fucked up? Had I fucked up by telling her about my fantasy? Had it somehow changed her in a way that couldn't be changed back? I shuddered at the thought. That was crazy. There was no way that just telling her something like that could change her that much. Was there?

  I started doubting everything I'd done. Should I have kept it all to myself? She hadn't been concerned about never having slept with another man. Why the hell had I gone and stirred up the pot about it anyways? All because of my fucked up fantasy. All because I was the one that wanted to see her with another man.

  My hand was shaking slightly as I opened the door to go out and look for her. Where would she even go? After a game we either watched the playback, showered and fucked or ate. She hadn't even had time to change! I stormed down the hall and took the steps instead of the elevator down. I didn't think I could stand still long enough for the ride.

  I was almost out the door when I saw the familiar shape of her toned thigh in the corner of my eye. She was standing at the hotel bar and she was talking to him.

  She saw me. He had his back to the door but she saw me over his shoulder. The way she arched one eyebrow and smiled made my blood boil and my cock flex at the same time. What the fuck had I done?!? It took every ounce of restraint not to tear into the bar, pry her fingers off the drink she was holding and drag her back upstairs. I breathed deep, unclenched my fists and did my best to saunter inside.

  The two of them were laughing about something as I came up. She shot me another look and it made him realize someone was there. He turned around. He was even thicker close up than when I'd seen him the other day. He obviously took his weights seriously because his biceps looked like they might start to tear the black shirt he was wearing. He was wearing dark glasses so I couldn't see his eyes.

  "Can I help you?" he asked in a velvety baritone voice.

  "Yeah. I just came down to..."

  Get my wife.

  That had been the plan. As soon as I saw her with him, that's what I'd thought I was going to say. But I caught Natalia's stare over his shoulder again. The muscles in her face had tightened. Her lips were pursed and she shot me an icy cold stare. It sent a chill down my spine and made something click inside my mind. This wasn't going to end well. Not the way I'd seen it playing out. Natalia wasn't going to come back upstairs with me. She wasn't going to sit on the bed and listen to me talk her through, coach her through this. Natalia didn't need that right now. Natalia needed me to go away.

  "I came down for a drink but...I forgot my wallet upstairs."

  Her face changed as soon as I'd said it. Her expression relaxed into mild disbelief. Her friend eyed me for a moment, then nodded. "Cool, man. Cool." Then he turned around and started talking to her again. As if I wasn't her husband. As if she wasn't my wife. As if they were none of my business.

  Natalia got flustered but only for a moment. She put her game face back on. Not the tennis game face, her flirting game face. When she shot me one last glance, she was smiling.

  The hardest thing I've ever had to do was step back, leave them there and walk away. The second hardest was probably the hour that I spent in the room waiting. I entertained every fear I'd ever had about Natalia straying. Even though I was the one that suggested it, I wallowed in a pool of jealousy that threatened to overwhelm me. Because this wasn't me telling Natalia to do something and her doing it. The tables had somehow turned and in that moment where I saw her staring at me over the other guy's shoulder, I realized Natalia wanted some room. She wanted to call the shots on this one. I couldn't just trust myself anymore, to tell Natalia what to do. I had to let Natalia try to figure that out. I had to trust her.

  The sound of the door opening sent fear and panic and relief at the wait being over washing over me. Then panic again as she stepped into view. Had she done it? It didn't look like she had. Her cheeks were a little rosy, probably from the booze. Had she gone to his room? Had she been fucked by another man?

  She stepped into the room and let the door swing shut. She stared at me. She smiled. She put a hand on one hip. "So?"

  "So?" I echoed.

  "Don't you want to know what happened?"

  I did. More than anything else I wanted to know what she'd done. "If you want to tell."

  She smirked. She looked so smug. Did she know she'd hurt me? Did she like it? "And if I don't?"

  The thought that she might not tell me twisted my insides tight. "What am I gonna do, Nat? Spank you?" Maybe I should have. She was being a brat.

  Her mouth popped open at the suggestion. Maybe she wouldn't have minded, from the way she looked. Maybe she liked that kind of thing too? "Kinky," she taunted. "I didn't sleep with him."

  Her words were a cool balm on my hot, frayed nerves. "What was that all about then?"

  She sauntered over to the bed, across from the chair I was sitting in, and plopped down. "I don't know. I knew you'd be mad. I knew you'd be mad that I thought of...that stuff. I knew you'd be mad that it made me play that way."

  Maybe she knew me better than I thought? "How'd you know?"

  She sighed. "Because you're like that, Dennis. We've been married for eight years, remember? You get jealous and weird about the funniest stuff."

  "Do you like that it made me jealous?"

  "No. I don't like it when you get jealous. Maybe when we're, you know, fooling around. Then it's kind of fu
n. You're just so...controlling sometimes."

  I knew she was right. That part didn't hurt. I knew that about myself. What made me feel bad was that she didn't want me that way anymore. I was determined not to let that show, though. In many ways I'd treated her like a girl. Maybe it was time to let her be a woman.

  "What did you do?" I asked, hoping the question would be taken as it was meant, as a peace offering.

  "We just talked. He invited me out to dinner. Isn't that funny?" she giggled into her hand.

  It wasn't funny. It made my stomach twist into a knot. It made my cock move in my pants. "What did you say?" I managed, my voice tight.

  She giggled again, turned her eyes down towards the floor, then looked back up. "I told him yes."

  Chapter 9

  I couldn't really be upset. I was the one that had started all this, got it all rolling. I didn't really feel upset, either. I just felt...lost. "When?" I asked.

  "Tonight."

  "Where?"

  "The restaurant downstairs."

  It was all so matter-of-fact. So smug. Did she mean to sound smug? "You're going to..."

  "I'm going to go to dinner. Then we'll see." A pause. She studied my eyes. "Do you still...want that?"

  Finally, a slight relief from the tension that had built up inside me. Finally she was offering something. Finally she'd let the veil of irritation she'd been wearing, down. "If you do."

  She furrowed her brow. Had my answer annoyed her? "What do you want?"

  That was a good question. The answer seemed to change for me every hour. "I...I want you to be happy. I want...I want you to know that you want this. That you want us. Before we get in too deep. Before we have a baby. I want you to be sure."

  Her face softened. "Dennis, I keep telling you, I am sure."

  Did I really not believe her? Or did I just want this for myself? There was only one way to find out. "Go. Have fun. I'll be waiting back here."

  She took a deep breath. "Okay then. I will."

  And she did. She pulled out the only nice dress she'd brought. A tight black thing that hugged every curve of her body so tightly it looked like parts of her might pop out. Her tits were pressed together, pushed up by the bra she was wearing. It was so tight you could just make out the cleft that her ass cheeks formed. Her strong thighs spilled from the bottom of it, tapering into slender, caves, dainty ankles and perfect feet.

  I watched her get ready. I poured drink after drink watching her put on make-up, adjust her hair, get herself ready for this other man. When she was ready she turned in the mirror. Her eyes roamed down her athletic frame then came back up. She puckered her lips into a pout the looked at my reflection in the mirror. "Still sure?"

  "Still sure."

  She shrugged. "Okay. I love you then." She giggled. "Don't wait up!"

  It sent a a pang of jealous lust coursing through me. She had done all of this for him. The man she'd picked out at the bar. The man she'd seen earlier that day. The man that in a few hours might be fucking my wife. She leaned over me, taunting me with the fullness of her breasts. "I'll be back. I'll tell you all about it."

  Then she was gone. She was gone and I was left with nothing to do but pour myself drink after drink of whisky and wait. I thought about what his face might look like when they met again. Would his mouth drop open at the way she looked? Would he drink her in with his gaze? Would he fantasize about fucking her after they ate?

  Each thought brought a fresh swell of loaded jealous lust until the booze extinguished the jealousy and I was left with a hard on I didn't want to do anything about and a heavy feeling in my gut. The evening got darker. I started to sweat. I started to worry. Had I done the wrong thing? She didn't even know this guy? Should I have at least kept an eye on her? Made sure she made it to his room and not out into the night and a cab to some unknown destination? I started to imagine all the things that could go wrong. I started to think of all the bad situations she might end up in. Was I crazy? What kind of man sends his wife out to fuck another man?

  I was almost passed out when the soft click of the latch in the door stirred me awake. The glass I'd been barely holding fell out of my hand and onto the floor. I leapt up. It was her, silhouetted in the light from the hall. Her hair was mussed. Her body swayed, like she'd had too much to drink. She turned on the light in the hall and I knew. I knew she'd done it. I knew from the way she looked. The way she smiled. She let the door swing shut and swayed into the room, unsteady on high heels.

  "You waited up after all. Coach." She winked.

  That wink made my heart pulse with pain. "What happened?" I asked, breathless.

  She giggled into her hand. "We fucked."

  The words took the wind out of my lungs and made my stomach ache. Like a one-two punch in the gut. My cock stirred to life. "You fucked him?" I growled. I couldn't help that I growled. It just came out that way.

  Another giggle. Her good humor only made it burn deeper, hotter. "Like you told me to. Remember?"

  I remembered alright. I remembered being that crazy. Part of me wanted to take it all back. "I want to..." I started but couldn't bring myself to finish.

  "You want to hear all about it?" she teased.

  "Yes."

  "I figured as much." She fell down onto the bed and reached down to start pulling at the straps of her high heels.

  "Now." I couldn't help that it sounded like a bark. I was furious. Furious and completely aroused.

  "Yes sir, coach," she answered with a salute. "Where should I start?"

  "Did you go to dinner?"

  "Yeah. We did. But that part was boring. He's kind of a thug."

  Another punch in the gut. Kind of a thug? What did that mean? "What do you m..."

  "He's just some guy who bounces at a bar. His stories were boring. Boring as fuck."

  "But you stayed?"

  "Yeah I stayed."

  "Why?"

  "Why?" She locked me in her gaze with wide eyes. "Because my husband told me to go and get fucked," she whispered.

  "Stop saying it like that. You're drunk."

  "A little," she sighed and collapsed onto the bed.

  I wanted to go over to her. I wanted to scoop her up and hold her and tell her she never had to do anything like that again. I couldn't. It felt like my feet were riveted to the floor.

  "Are you gonna come over here and fuck me? Or are you just going to stand there like that?"

  Heat and rage and jealousy boiled through me. Somehow I overcame the heaviness in my legs and stepped towards the bed. The room swam from the effects of all the alcohol I'd had. My cock was straining against my pants. I sat down on the bed next to her. I could barely bring myself to touch her. I wanted to know everything and not know any of it at the same time.

  She had other plans. "I know what you're going to ask."

  "What?"

  "Whether he had a big cock."

  A pulse of lust rocketed through me. This was my wife. This was my wife talking about another man's cock. I couldn't summon any words.

  "It was huge," she smiled. "And thick."

  I swallowed the rage that bubbled up from deep in my insides. She propped herself up on her elbows.

  "He left me a present. Want to see it?" Ever so slowly, her legs fell apart.

  What? What the fuck?!? Had she fucked him without protection?!? Had she let him come inside her?!? I pushed her black dress up past her hips. Her bald pussy glistened in the light coming from the hall. It was just the way I'd imagined it. Red and sore from being used. It looked like it had been stretched and stuffed. And in the soft canyon between her lips, where her hole was still closing from being fucked, there was the smallest leak. A tiny river of white.

  "He fucked you bare? He fucked his cum into your pussy?" I seethed.

  "Yup." She reached down with her hands between her legs.

  I sat watching. Frozen.

  She pried her soft pussy lips apart. The trickle turned into a torrent that turned into a gush that spat
out of her with a wet splurt.

  My eyes went wide. Why the fuck did I find this so erotic? The sight of my wife filled with another man's cum? I didn't ponder the question. I pulled my shorts off and pushed them down. I ignored her chuckling as I pressed myself between her legs. My cock was rigid and ready and searching for her seeping cunt. When I found it, I sank into her, my passage lubricated by his seed. I groaned and the sound made her serious. It made her stare up into my eyes.

  "You like that baby? You like sinking into another man's spunk?"

  My body erupted into a violent fucking. I drove myself inside her. I felt her arms come up around my neck. It was so confusing and thrilling and I couldn't parse it. I just let my instincts take over. I pressed my lips against hers and plunged my tongue into her mouth. She took it and met it with hers. We kissed deeply as I fucked. I felt her legs come up, glide against my thighs as she raised them in the air. She was giving me access to her deepest place and it was hot as fuck. I pounded myself against her, the cum moving from my balls as our bodies mashed together. I was perched on the edge, ready to explode.

  She looked up with a sly smile. "Come on Dennis, fuck your cum into me. We'll see whose wins!"

  My whole body stiffened as she said it. My cock flexed inside her tender cunt.

  "Oh fuck yes!" she cried as her body tensed in climax.

  I felt my load spurting into her sex. I felt her pussy squeezing, clenching at me, milking me for seed. Had he done this to her? Had they come together? Had her pussy squeezed his cock like it was squeezing mine? The thought just made me start fucking her again as my body tried to push my seed deep into her pussy. Deeper than his had gone.

  When it was over it felt like it had ended too soon. For once I didn't appreciate the easy relief that comes after an orgasm, the disconnection from urgency in life. I rolled off of her to one side. We lay in silence.

  "Dennis?"

  "Huh?"

  "Are you alright?"

  Chapter 10

  I'm still not sure why I started laughing. She seemed a little put off by it at first. But then she started chuckling, too. She crawled closer to me on the bed. Her body felt like the Natalia I remembered. The one I married. The one I loved. When the laughter died down she kissed my cheek.