Megyn For The Win: A Romantic Hotwife Novel

by Arnica Butler

I then imagined that they had a code, a secret code between the two of them, where if she couldn’t talk she would pretend he was a telemarketer.

  It seemed to me that the calls were coming later in the evening.

  It also seemed to me that Megyn was tucking herself away in her office space to work after dinner far more than she had ever done before. (She claimed to have work to do.)

  I put all of these things together, whether they were entirely true or not, and decided that she was waiting for Max Riley to call her in her office while she pretended to work.

  In my defense, at this point in the story, because I realize how stupid that sounds – in my defense, this was kind of a game to me. It was fun to imagine, and it was fun to believe. In acting it out, I was just trying to live out my fantasy. The reality was, deep inside, I knew Megyn was just working in her office, and that she wouldn’t give Max her phone number, and that telemarketers didn’t care if it was too late to call. I knew I was distorting facts for my own purposes. Somewhere deep inside I knew these things.

  But I started picking up the phone when it rang, anyway.

  And listening in.

  Our phone has a nice feature that the ringer turns blue when someone else picks up the other headset. So if someone is holding the phone in his hand, and paying attention, and acts quickly, he can turn the phone on and mute it quickly without (presumably) the person who answered the phone even knowing.

  Most of the time, the calls were in fact work-related, which should have disappointed me thoroughly and destroyed my ham-handed hypothesis, but I kept picking up.

  Just to be sure.

  And then one day… one day I hit pay dirt.

  Cassie. Her nasal voice filled my head. I walked with the phone to the kitchen, because the kids were playing a video game and had the volume on exceedingly loud.

  It was a boring conversation at first. Girly, full of high-pitched ups and downs. I was having fun, though, being an auditory voyeur – who doesn’t wonder what women talk about, together, when they think no one is listening?

  Like I said, it started out boring, and I was about to hang up, when:

  “So listen,” Cassie said, and her voice seemed to make an abrupt change in tone. “You have to make a decision about this by Friday.”

  There was a pause, and I paused as well, my head cocked like a dog who has just seen a squirrel.

  A sigh. “I know.”

  Cassie was impatient. “I don’t understand what’s holding you back.”

  Silence.

  “Megyn?”

  Megyn made a noise, a sort of vibration from the back of her throat. She made this noise when she was cornered about something and had no idea what to say. I hadn’t heard it for ten years, and it made me chuckle.

  “You said you wanted to get back into your old job.”

  A cool feeling began to run down my spine. What?

  “I know,” Megyn complained.

  “And this is… your old job.”

  “Yup.”

  Silence again.

  “I don’t get it.”

  Silence again. My brow furrowed. An explosion rocked the living room and one of the kids cheered.

  “Is it Peter?” Cassie tisked. “It’s him, right. Man. Men. Is it him?”

  Fucking Cassie. Man, was she willing to throw me under the bus.

  “Uh… I haven’t said anything to him.”

  “What?!”

  Yeah, what?

  What the fuck was actually going on here?

  “You don’t want the job,” Cassie said. “Or… girl, what are you doing?”

  The noise again.

  Cassie’s voice changed, to her delighted, juicy-gossip voice. “Is it because of Max Riley?”

  My whole body went stone cold.

  At that moment, Ella came in and said something to me. I held up a finger to her and gave her a look that turned her face to stone and sent her running back into the living room.

  “Not… exactly.”

  “I knew it. What is it?! Oh tell me, please tell me!” Cassie was squealing with delight.

  Megyn was silent.

  “You know he recommended you. Or basically, he’s holding Ryan over a barrel. You know that, right? You have to do it, or we’re going to lose him.”

  Megyn was the one to tisk now. “He’s not going to do that.”

  “He might. Oh God. He has the hots for you, doesn’t he?”

  “Cassie!” Megyn hissed. “No. He does not.”

  “Then why…?”

  Yes, why indeed?

  I struggled to get my head around what was happening. As far as I could tell, Megyn had been offered her old job at StreetRise, which I knew she had always regretted leaving and would love to have back.

  And it seemed Max Riley had something to do with it.

  And it seemed that Megyn, mysteriously, was conflicted about it all.

  And was keeping it a secret. from me.

  My stomach dropped through my feet.

  “Megyn. I’m tired of this shit. Give it to me straight. You’re not making any sense.”

  Megyn sighed. “Oh God,” she said. “It’s just so…”

  “Did you have an affair with him?” Cassie breathed.

  I sank into a chair, my heart thumping against my chest.

  “No. God. God, no,” Megyn said quickly. “No, it isn’t that...”

  “Is he actually a huge asshole? Did he try something on you?”

  My heart leaped into my throat and my cock twitched.

  Megyn sighed. “No. No… I mean, no. Not really. Not like, out of the ordinary.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Cassie snapped.

  I was thankful for Cassie’s questions (for once).

  “No, it means, just like… he’s a guy. Of course if you...” Megyn left the sentence unfinished.

  “Oh, yeah,” Cassie said, dismayed.

  Guys are such assholes, I concurred silently.

  “No, he’s a really nice guy. It’s, um… it isn’t him.”

  Cassie was flummoxed. There was a silence on the line, so long I thought I had accidentally hung up.

  “Meg. Will you please,” Cassie said finally. Then she seized on something. “Is it you? Are you worried you’ll just jump on top of him one day and rip his clothes off and get that man’s cock in your hand -”

  “Cassie!” Megyn whisper-yelled. “God.”

  “I would. I would worry about it,” Cassie mused.

  There was a pause on the phone again, during which time I felt certain we all silently agreed about the truth of that statement.

  “Are you going to tell me what the hell?” Cassie said.

  Megyn sighed again. “It’s sort of that… it’s not… oh God. I don’t really know how to explain this.”

  “You’re attracted to him,” Cassie interrupted, impatient. “You’re attracted to a hot, luscious, black man with a huge -”

  “Stop.”

  “You are. And so what?”

  Megyn sighed.

  “Seriously, honey. So what? You don’t have to fuck him. And also, if you do… you know, so what? Peter isn’t going to divorce you over one fling. Is he? No, he wouldn’t.”

  Such a bitch. What the hell did that mean?

  “I’m not going to have an affair with him,” Megyn said, resolute.

  “Then what is the problem?”

  Megyn sighed again. There was a pause and the sound of her picking up the phone and walking somewhere. I heard the door open. I set the phone down on the table and walked past the hallway deliberately, looking excited about the video game.

  I waited, a sufficiently long enough time for Megyn to have shut the door and decided that I was immersed in TV with the children and it was safe to talk. But not too much time, because I wanted to get the scoop..

  I crept back to the kitchen.

  “….this thing. Kind of like, I don’t know how to explain it. A game. And, um… so his thing is, Cassie you have to s
wear you will never repeat a word of this.”

  “I swear. Dish.”

  Cassie’s voice was practically ratting the phone with its excitement. I was feeling cold. It was settling in my stomach. It was like being stripped in front of an audience.

  Megyn sighed again. “Okay, so… Pete has this thing where it, um… it apparently turns him on to like, like if I flirt with another guy or something.”

  I cringed with humiliation.

  “Mmmhmm,” Cassie said, the way you would if someone were providing background information on their way to the juicy bit of the story.

  “So…” Megyn’s voice faltered. “I mean, that’s what he...” she sighed.

  “Is that it?” Cassie said. “Oh, wait… did you do it?!” she started to sound excited. “I am so jealous of you. Oh my God, and you have me to thank for it -”

  “No, I didn’t do it. Cassie, what the hell?”

  “What?” Cassie sounded genuinely perplexed. “Wait. You’re saying that’s the big thing? That Peter likes to watch you flirt with other guys?”

  Silence.

  “Isn’t that, um… a little weird?” Megyn ventured.

  “Not really.” Cassie’s answer was so casual, so matter-of-fact, that I felt a wave of warming relief.

  I started to like her again.

  “Huh?” Megyn said.

  “Yeah, lots of guys are like that. I mean… are you kidding me here? You’ve never run into a guy like that in your whole life?” Cassie was unimpressed.

  “I’ve been married to Peter for 13 years!” Megyn said, defensively.

  Cassie laughed, like that didn’t really matter in her estimation.

  “So it’s not that strange?” Megyn said.

  “Meh,” Cassie said dismissively. “But… is he like, into swinging, or is it just… either way, I guess I still don’t understand what the problem is. With your job, I mean.”

  Megyn sighed again. There was another long pause, while my heart raced and my stomach twisted in fear and expectation.

  “It’s, um… so look, I don’t even know,” Megyn was whispering now. “I just… okay, so I sort of like that, too. You know, like we had really hot sex, sort of play-acting that whole thing. But, um, you know, I would never actually...”

  “Fuck Max Riley? What is wrong with you. But okay, so what is the problem?”

  “I’m sort of… I don’t really… I don’t want to do anything like that.” Megyn made this statement firmly.

  “So don’t?” Cassie offered. Then she hummed knowledgeably: “No, there’s something else.”

  Megyn sighed. “I just… so I didn’t expect to actually like the guy, you know? He was… I was all set for him to be just an egomaniac, and stupid, you know how movie stars are always stupid?”

  “Uh… how many movie stars have you met?” Cassie said.

  “No, just, in interviews and stuff. They’re always so dumb.”

  “Okay,” Cassie conceded. “So… he’s not. You like him. You’re afraid you’re going to fuck him.”

  My cock throbbed and I stopped breathing.

  Megyn groaned. “Not in so many words, Cassie.”

  “What’s the problem, though? You said Peter is into it.”

  “Yeah but… I’m not.” She sounded like she needed to convince herself, and wasn’t doing a very good job.

  “But you’re worried that you are...” Cassie almost sang.

  Silence.

  “Makes perfect sense to me,” Cassie sang. “Look, this is none of my business, but your taking this job or not is. So will you please stop acting like an idiot and take the job, because you want the job, and then try to… I don’t know, keep your skirt on when you see Max Riley. Jesus.”

  This was sound advice.

  I was liking Cassie more and more.

  Megyn sighed again. “Okay.”

  “Okay, you’ll take the job, I can tell Ryan -”

  “Okay, I’ll talk to Peter.”

  “Soon.”

  “Yes.”

  “Now. Tonight. So I can get this monkey off my back.” In the end, Cassie was Jersey all the way. She liked to close deals, and Megyn was taking too much time to make a decision, no matter how fun the gossip about that decision might be.

  Megyn sighed again.

  “Because he’s like an actual monkey,” Cassie continued, talking about Ryan. “He looks like a Rhesus monkey. He’s driving me nuts -”

  “I said I’ll do it...”

  “I can’t believe Petey is a swinger...” Cassie mused.

  “Don’t you ever!”

  Cassie laughed. Then she was serious. “No. Of course not. I’m just… shocked, is all. He always seemed so… prude.”

  I hated her again.

  “I have to go put the kids to bed,” Megyn said.

  “You’ll get back to me tomorrow,” Cassie intoned.

  “Uh...”

  “To-mor-row,” Cassie insisted. “Say it please.”

  Another sigh from Megyn. “Okay. Tomorrow.”

  Click.

  8: A LITTLE BIT OF CONTROL

  There were a few ways to approach the situation, as far as I could tell.

  I could pretend I never heard that conversation, avoid all conflict, and just wait and see what my wife said about the job offer. I could pretend to be neutral about whether or not she took it.

  Or I could pretend to be overjoyed for her.

  Or I could pretend that I didn’t want her to take the job. And then maybe she would feel better about taking it and not realize that I was pushing her right into Max Riley’s arms.

  As I finished up the dishes, and put the kids to bed, my mind was so filled by plans for failed plans and possible plans and alternative plans for what I would do if Megyn did X or Y that when I closed the bathroom door behind me to take a shower, I could barely remember whether I had actually put the kids in bed or not.

  I turned on the water and stood in the shower.

  So far, you may be thinking of me as an indecisive guy. Which I can be, especially in matters like this one. This secret that had been festering inside of me for so long, and the fear it had engendered.

  The thing about me, and I suspect a lot of people will tell you this, is that sometimes I just snap.

  I’m not entirely sure what catalyzed it for me: the water, the feeling of being a bad parent, doing the dishes like some fucking schmuck while my wife talked about her attraction to Max Riley, the movie star, on the phone with her friend. Maybe it was a lot of things piled up, the overall discomfort with my own weakness that had been squirming around inside of me for long enough. Who knows?

  I heard Megyn come into the room. Over the sound of the shower, the click of the door and her footsteps on the thick carpet. In my peripheral vision I saw her hair in the mirror.

  I thought of her neatly shaved snatch, winking at me through her naughty panties.

  She left the room, where the expansive sinks were carefully surrounded by the accoutrements of suburban living: baskets, smelly soaps, a little jewelry dish. For a moment every aspect of middle age reached around my throat and started to choke me. And then I felt infuriated.

  It was then, I suppose. That moment. That’s when I snapped, if snapping is the right thing to call it.

  Megyn was back in the bathroom, wearing a fairly ratty pink tank-top and a pair of short-shorts she had started using for pajamas. She leaned over the sink to investigate something in the mirror.

  I swiped away the steam gathered on the shower door to watch her, but I didn't spend a lot of time enjoying the view, inactively.

  I opened the door, one hand absently turning off the water. Megyn looked at me in the mirror with mild surprise, an expression that turned quickly to alarm as I stepped across the bathroom floor without even reaching for a towel, and stood behind her.

  She dropped the hand she had been touching to her face and looked at me, starting to straighten up. I was naked, dripping wet, but not cold: my blood was pumping furi
ously.

  “What are you -” Megyn started to say.

  “I overheard your phone conversation with Cassie,” I said abruptly. Matter-of-factly.

  Astonishment started to wash over her face – astonishment, and confusion. She blinked, and her mouth moved without forming any words.

  She moved to turn herself around, and slid my hand along her spine, moving closer to her, getting her pajamas wet but not caring. She stuttered something, but stopped when I wound her hair around my hand and pulled on it lightly.

  My cock was hard, and I knew she could feel it against her. Her mouth fell open in disbelief, and she looked at me searchingly in the mirror.

  I used my free hand to pull her shorts down, taking the underwear beneath them along with the hook of my thumb.

  “I should say,” I said, close to her ear, meeting her eyes in the mirror, “that I eavesdropped on the conversation, from start to finish.”

  Her mouth fell open, and I tugged on her hair to let her know that she shouldn’t say anything. And thankfully, she didn’t.

  I slid my fingers into the crack of her ass, seeking out her pussy. I found, to my delight, that she was just as turned on by this act as I had hoped she would be.

  The feeling of her slick juices filled me with a boldness I hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever.

  This was what she wanted, I realized. Her excitement, slippery in my fingers, was all the proof I needed.

  I pulled on her hair.

  “So I know,” I said, moving my lips over her earlobe, “that you’ve been offered a job. And I know..” I found her clit with my fingertip and flicked at it, sending a shuddered through her and making her half close her eyes, “that you’ve got a little problem. That you liked Max Riley more than you thought you would.”

  She opened her mouth, and I tugged even harder on her hair, making her wince a little. “Don’t deny it,” I growled into her ear. “I don’t want you to, anyway. In fact, what I want you to do is something much different.”

  Her eyes opened, meeting my gaze again in the mirror and growing wide. There was a mixture of surprise, maybe some fear, and best of all – wild excitement – lighting her green irises from behind.

  I pushed two fingers inside of her, and confirmed that indeed, whatever Megyn was saying about her hesitation about my fantasy, her body was certainly embracing it. Her juices dripped down my fingers as I slowly pumped her channel, making her gush like a well. Her mouth opened and she gasped.