Hotwife Hotel: A Wifewatching Romance

by Jason Lenov

  I pushed myself into her hole, savouring the delicious taste that spilled from her. I loved everything about her now, especially her taste. Feeling the urgency of my own need pressing on my gut, I pushed my tongue up her now sopping slit and found the tight nub of her clit.

  She moaned again as I began spinning tiny circles around the little ball of flesh. Her body started undulating beneath my mouth and I felt her trying to press herself even closer to me, her hands still on the back of my head.

  "Oh John!" she exhaled, the sound of her desire the most potent aphrodisiac. I pushed my hands beneath her shapely ass, took the two cheeks and pressed her closer still, gorging on her pulsing cunt.

  I could tell she was close by the way her body moved. Her juices were spilling from her, off my chin and onto the sheets below, but I didn't care. I wanted to feel the way she moved when that climax gripped her. I wanted to feel what I could do to her with just my mouth.

  "Oh fuck John," she groaned, looking down at me buried between her thighs, "I'm gonna come!"

  Her body shook, her thighs squeezing my head, her torso twisting away as wave after wave of pleasure curved through her. I kept lapping at the softest part of her, watching her body bend in a beautiful agony until, with a final shudder, she released me with her legs and pushed me gently away.

  I was up and climbing onto her a second later, my stiff cock moving along her leg as I crawled up her body. She looked down at me with big eyes. One corner of her lip curled so softly into a smile and I felt the warm invitation of her legs spreading open, telling me to plunge myself into her hot, soft core.

  As soon as the tip of my cock touched her perfect little cunt I couldn't help but slip my crown into that warm tightness. Her hands ran up my back. Her eyes closed. Her legs opened wider and her face went long again now as she let out an anguished moan.

  I looked down the length of our bodies to see myself disappearing inside her as her heat engulfed me and filled every last crevice in my brain with pleasure.

  "Come on baby, fuck your seed into me," she pleaded in a desperate whisper.

  My eyes sprang open at the dirty words and I saw that now her smile was streaked with mischief. I'd never heard her talk like that. My hips erupted into a hard, rhythmic thrusting as soon as she said it and I stared deep into her eyes, wondering where or when she'd learned that little trick.

  She floated away on another wave of pleasure as our bodies rocked together on the bed. I felt her hook her feet around my calves, felt them travel up my thighs as her body responded to my own.

  Another moan. Her pussy tightened around me making cum pool at my base.

  "Oh fuck John," she swore again, "you're gonna make me come!"

  Even as my cock swelled inside her I couldn't help but wonder who this creature was? She'd never talked like that or come so much or been this...involved? Except that one time...

  My body pushed that thought away as I watched her mouth open in a silent moan. I felt her tense around me, felt her nails digging at my back, the pain giving me a few more precious seconds before my own eruption.

  "Oh fuck!" she groaned as I felt her hips flex and her back arch, sending her onto me. Her pussy squeezed at me again as her juices slathered me in heat.

  My thrusts were violent now, pounding my body into hers and sending the bed knocking against the wall.

  When she opened her eyes to look at me there was a need there I'd never seen before.

  "Come on baby," she begged, "fill me up with your cum! Please, I want to feel all that cum inside me! I want to feel you fill that pussy up with cum!"

  Sweet and holy fuck, the sound of her voice begging me for my seed made my cock an iron rod. I pressed into her as deeply as I could and as her fingers ran gently along my back I felt the spasm of a climax start.

  "Oh fuck I'm coming!" I pushed the words from me as I felt the first hot, white ropes of seed explode from my stiff head and lash the walls inside her womb.

  "Oh that's it baby, fuck your cum into me..." she cooed and I felt her squeeze me with her cunt, like she was milking me for more.

  "Fuuuuck!" I groaned as I buried my rigid organ deep inside her and held it there, wave after wave of pleasure coming with each flexing pump of the thing as I released all I had into her until I had nothing left. Collapsing on top of her, a grunting, sweaty mess, I did my best to catch my breath.

  A few minutes of relief were all I had before the nagging questions began to taunt me in my mind.

  What was this? Who was this? She'd never been like this before. What had changed? Did she really just want a baby? Did women really get like this when they wanted to get pregnant? Or was there something else?

  As she hummed gently in the shower, my cock swelled again as I wallowed in a miserable bliss.

  My mind crept to the one thing that had changed. Our special guest Andre was here.

  Our sex life had picked up with the excitement of the move and starting a new life. But a few months after having moved here things were back to the same ho-hum-hum-drum rhythm they'd been at before. Rebecca Reason didn't just casually tell me we were having sex in the morning. Rebecca Reason didn't talk dirty or tell me to fuck my cum into her.

  The unsettling tightness that had been rearing its ugly head in the last few weeks gripped me again. Despite having just released, I felt my cock move again.

  When she came out of the shower, naked and towelling her hair, I watched her move across the room.

  "That was nice," I offered, hoping she would step over, lean down, kiss me and offer a reassuring smile. Or better yet crawl under the covers so I could bury my doubts under the feeling of her warm flesh again.

  "I thought so too," was all she said, opening a dresser drawer and pulling out a pair of underwear. I watched her step into them. I craved something. I needed something from her. A sign that things were still the same, that she loved me, that my nagging doubt was just a fiction.

  I jumped out of bed, crossed the room and took her in my arms.

  She raised an eyebrow. "John Forrest! You just got some!" she teased.

  I looked into her eyes, searching for more.

  She kissed me on the cheek and pulled away. Dressed, she moved towards the door. "Time to get to work!"

  I stood there and watched her go, my cock half-stiff again with need. I wished I could just follow her downstairs, tell her how I felt. What would I say? What would I say without sounding like a jealous freak? Did you fuck our guest?

  The image of them together flashed through my mind. My cock bounced. Shaking my head of the picture, I found my own clothes and walked to the office. Work might give me respite from my madness.

  Chapter 9

  I stood there staring at the screen, my heart thumping again. How could I have been so stupid? I was always the one telling her to log out, to not just leave her stuff open, even though it was just the two of us.

  The window that contained the message from the other night was hidden behind the new one she'd opened. The question tore at me:

  Had she seen the message? Had she read it? Had she wondered who it was for? Had she clicked on my message? Did she have some idea of what was going on?

  "For fuck's sake John!" I cursed under my breath, peering out the door and down the hall to see if she was there. She wasn't.

  Suddenly I had to know. I had to find out if that was the reason she had acted the way she had in bed. If she'd seen the message and that was what the change was from.

  "Beck?" I called, listening for where the response came from.

  "Down here..." came her faint reply. Basement.

  The dryer was spinning and the washer churning as I descended the steps and saw her stuffing sheets into the wash.

  "Hiya!" she bubbled, smiling like a giddy schoolgirl.

  Don't get me wrong, I liked her like this. I just wanted to know why. Why the change?

  "You're cheerful," I said with a smile, bending down and pressing my lips to her forehead in another kiss.

&
nbsp; "Well, life is good!" she said quietly, moving herself a little closer to me.

  Why, Rebecca? Why is life so good all of a sudden? Why did we just have sex? Did you see the thing on the computer? The questions churned in my mind like the water in the washer that had begun to agitate.

  "What's up?" she asked, looking up with innocent eyes.

  Right. I was there to ask a question. What question? Why hadn't I thought this through?

  "Hey I just wanted to say sorry for leaving myself logged in on the computer like I always tell you not to do." I tried to put on my best apologetically sheepish smile but I was watching her like a hawk. Watching her eyes. If there was truth to be found, it was in her eyes.

  Nothing. Not a single hint or clue.

  "Oh, no biggie," she said, waving it away with one hand.

  Brilliant. Now what?

  "Did you....still need to use the computer? I can log myself out again."

  I felt like punching myself for that one. Real smooth John. Real smooth.

  Her face got curious. "What? What do you mean?"

  "I just thought," I agonized, trying to twist what I'd said back into something that didn't sound like I was fishing for answers, "I just thought you might still need it. That's all."

  An uncomfortable knot had formed in my stomach at the possibility that this might have been my only chance at finding out what she thought of the whole thing. The whole "I'm obsessed with thinking about you with other men," thing. And that I might have just blown it.

  "Nope," she shook her head and smiled. Then she stared at me. Was that too serious of a stare? "I got what I wanted." She held that stare for longer than she should have. Either that, or I was now going completely crazy. I had made myself completely crazy.

  But wait. She got what she wanted. I could go back up there and just check the history. Just check where she had been. What she had done.

  "Okay. Good," I said, backing away slowly and trying not to make a run for the stairs.

  She got a strange look on and shook her head, but smiled.

  I was up there in four seconds flat.

  Recipe website.

  Weather.

  Reddit.

  Nothing. There was nothing there, so she hadn't seen it, right? I swapped the window to the one with the message. It was still there. She could have seen it.

  Hey baby. Send a picture and some details?

  I had to come up with a plan.

  "Think John, think," I muttered, pressing a fist against my lips. There had to be some way of figuring out if she'd seen it or not. Of course there was. There was a perfect way.

  "Hey baby. Send a picture and some details?" I said quietly. I would just drop it into some conversation. Say it as a joke. Watch her. If she'd seen it, even if she didn't want me to know, I would see it in her eyes.

  "Hello?" Sam's voice came from down below.

  "Sam!" I said, coming down the stairs to see him standing just inside the door. "Come on in! You want a coffee?"

  "Ya, I'll have a coffee sure."

  "What brings you over?" I asked, rinsing out the stale coffee from the pot.

  Sam looked side to side, like he was ready to tell a secret and I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his strange behaviour. "She here?"

  "She's doing the laundry downstairs. What's up?"

  He leaned in over the counter and pulled me close. "I'd watch it with that fella ya have here. Ran into him up the road. He's got a real fancy for that wife of yers."

  Sam's eyebrow went up. His words sent a shudder of jealous agony through me.

  "Sam, what are you talking about?" I asked, trying my best not to let my paranoid excitement show.

  "Well it was just the way he was talking..."

  "Hiya Sam!" Rebecca's cheerful voice rang through the kitchen.

  Sam straightened up and smiled and turned with outstretched arms until she curled up under his beard in a hug.

  "How are ya lass?"

  "Good," Rebecca answered, "What are you two whispering about up here?"

  "Oh there's a bit of a thing going on around town about Mary Weavers, you remember her?" Sam changed subjects effortlessly, like he'd had it all prepared before he got here. Body of a bear but gossiped like a grandma.

  "Yeah," Rebecca answered, crinkling her nose in confusion at why we'd be talking about Mary Weavers.

  "Turns out she's been trying to get a man she met on the internet to come out and visit her. Her kids found out and were furious. Now they're flying in to, she says, set her straight."

  "Man she met on the internet?"

  I was on her like a hawk. Watching those eyes, watching the way the words came off her lips.

  "Some guy she met on some internet website, chatting and the like. Her kids think he's just out to scam her, though what he'll scam her of I'm not too sure. She still owes me for a few grocery runs I did for her. Never mind. That's all. Where's that coffee?"

  As soon as he turned around he made a face like "Gee did we get away with it?" and I saw my own opportunity begin to float away.

  Desperate, I blurted the words without thinking. "Ha! Ha! Right, so how does that work, was he just like 'Hey baby. Send a picture and some details?'"

  Sam's brow went up in genuine confusion but I didn't care. I was staring at Rebecca. Staring at those eyes.

  No reaction. No recognition but no confusion either. Nothing but a perfect little smile tugging at one corner of her mouth.

  "Don't mind him Sam," she said finally, shaking her head. "He's been a little weird lately."

  "Has he?" Sam asked shaking his head.

  She walked over and put a hand on my arm. Her eyes were still on mine, intent. Like she was watching, searching for a reason, too.

  "He has," she said and standing on her toes, kissed me on the cheek.

  Chapter 10

  I was supposed to spend the rest of the day working. I had a client that was waiting on some code and I'd promised to deliver by the beginning of the following week. Instead, as Rebecca busied herself downstairs, all I could do was sit there and alternate staring at my screen or out the window.

  The strangest thoughts began to creep through my mind, undoubtedly helped along by Sam's curious revelation that I should "watch out" for our lovely guest Andre. Whatever he'd said had obviously left a real impression, but I'd known Sam to embellish things from time to time. Not a lot happened in a place like Port Clareton, so when there was a bit of gossip or something new happening, most of the locals milked it for all it was worth.

  Why hadn't I gone into the kitchen last night? Why hadn't I looked to see if Andre had been there? I mean, the answer was because I was more interested in trying to have sex with her again than I was of looking like a fool, going to check if my wife had been cheating on me with our bed and breakfast guest. It was absurd, really that I would even contemplate the possibility that something was going on.

  She hadn't done or said anything out of the ordinary. The whole thing was driven by my own twisted little fantasy. Once I'd thought about it that away, work came a little easier and by the time dinner rolled around, I was more or less done and ready for an aperitif. In one final act of defiance against my own suspicions, I logged on and deleted the ad I'd placed, making sure that no one else would tempt me.

  When I went downstairs, though, neither Rebecca or Andre were there, and I felt a curious twinge of something, a re-ignition of the thoughts I thought I'd buried. When the door opened and the two of them came in laughing, I was already on my second scotch, the warm, oakey burn stoking my rage, and the buzz blurring my mind's eye.

  I watched him hold the door for her, watched her cover her mouth as she laughed and stepped through it. My eyes drifted down and a shock of jealous rage raced through me at what I thought I saw.

  Had they seen me? I didn't know. Had I seen his hand land gently on the small of her back as he stepped through the door? The blood boiling in my veins said yes, even if I doubted my eyes. The most confusing thing ab
out it, though, was that my boiling blood didn't want to make me lunge at him, punch him in the face or kick him out and tell him never to come back. The blood boiling in my veins hardened my cock and made me want to see it all again.

  "Oh my God!" Rebecca screamed as her eyes came to rest on my pouting frame, hunched over the almost empty glass of scotch I'd been nursing. "I didn't see you there!" She giggled at herself and walked towards me. Was that a sexier sway of her hips that I saw? I looked at Andre. His eyes were not where I expected them to be. Rebecca's ass was irresistible to watch. I didn't know a man that could look the other way when she was walking by. But he was staring straight at me, with what looked to be a satisfied smile playing across his lips.

  The fire in my belly burned even hotter as my mind began to race, coming up with possibilities.

  Where had they been? Why was she so friendly with him all of a sudden? Why was he smiling at me like that?

  "Hey," Rebecca said, leaning down and pecking at my cheek. "Wow, into the drink already huh?" she joked, eyeing me close. "Did you get your stuff done?"

  "Yup." I knew she would expect more. I knew the one-word answer would immediately betray that something was up, but I couldn't bring myself to push any more words out.

  She knew. Right away she knew. She furrowed her brow and tilted her head and looked at me funny, and I knew what she was going to ask before she asked it. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing." Gah! I wanted to be a better actor than this. I didn't want her to see me pouting and sulking like this, not now, not with him there.

  "I'll be down in just a bit," Andre said behind her. Whether he sensed there was something going on or not, I didn't know, but I was glad for the time alone with her.

  "Sure," she said, turning towards him and smiling. When she looked back, she seemed to have resolved to be cheerful. "So, Mr. Pouty Pants? What is it?"

  What to tell her? What to tell her?

  Well gee honey, I could say, I've just been doing a lot of fetishizing lately and now I'm kind of confused about our relationship, so I think you're having an affair with our first bed and breakfast guest.