Out of His League: A Hotwife Novel

by Max Sebastian

  So I waited, and I waited for an age.

  Then, at last, my phone buzzed in my pocket, and it nearly made me jump through the window.

  “Hello?”

  She was calling me on Skype—a video call—and yet the face of my phone remained black, and she wasn’t saying anything at all.

  “Hello? Hello? Court? You there?”

  I fiddled with a few settings, but the video was apparently working. I turned up the volume and there was only white noise.

  Then there was a few clicks and bangs, one of which nearly blew my phone’s speakers out, so I turned the volume back down a little. A low hum I’d thought to be part of the general white noise seemed now to be a vehicle engine, quiet but varying in pitch as Courtney drove, accompanied by the gentle growl of tires traveling along asphalt. It was her little Mercedes.

  Had she butt-dialed me? Could you butt-dial someone using Skype? I supposed if she’d accidentally knocked the app on, and bumped into my contact in her Skype list.

  I found myself a comfortable seat on our couch and placed the phone on the coffee table in front of me. Listening attentively to any possible clues as to what was going on. If she was giving me an idea about where she was going, either accidentally or purposefully, I didn’t want to miss it. Right now, it sounded as though she was slowing to a halt. An electronic whirr suggested her window being wound down. Was she going into a parking lot? Taking a ticket from an automated machine, perhaps.

  I guess if she was intending to spend the night in a hotel, all alone, I wanted to go find her. If she got into trouble, I wanted to be there to protect her, bring her home. If she really was going to see Harry Richards, I wanted to know. I wanted every possible suggestion about what was going on.

  Now there was a voice: masculine, stern, authoritative, official. Military.

  “Ma’am. Can you open your trunk, please?”

  “Sure.”

  My heart started thumping a little more quickly. I wasn’t the most experienced person in the world when it came to the military, but the movies helped fill in the gaps in my knowledge. It seemed to me that my wife was driving through a military checkpoint. Such as you might find entering an Air Force base.

  It took a few minutes. Long enough for me to determine that the only person with ties to the military that Courtney even vaguely knew was a certain Harry Richards. But he was working for a private defense contractor now, wasn’t he?

  It felt like a stretch, though, that this might be proof that my wife wasn’t there to see her ex.

  At last, the voice of the guard came back: “Thank you, Ma’am. You know where you’re going?”

  “Uh... yeah. Block 4-D.” Courtney seemed calm, collected.

  “All the way to the left, keep going until you hit the parking lot.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant.”

  At no point, from what I heard, did the guard ask Courtney who she was there to visit. Had Harry Richards given her some kind of pass to get onto the base?

  I heard her driving again, slowly, negotiating her way through the base until she found a place to park. The butterflies in my stomach fluttered. I thought about what she must look like in her car.

  She’d been wearing especially sexy lingerie when I’d come home. She’d applied her makeup, her perfume. We hadn’t been intending to go out that night. She didn’t normally need to go to such lengths just to seduce me. She could have stood there in sweatpants and reminded me of our previous night, when she’d fooled me into thinking she’d finally cheated on me with some big prick. We’d still been in the warm honeymoon period of that particular encounter.

  So what if I’d come home and she’d said she was actually on her way out. Honey, we both want this, you know we do. I’m going to go sleep with my ex, Harry.

  Maybe she’d been intending to go out and cheat on me that night, anyway. But now I’d made her angry. She was mad at me, and maybe Harry could take advantage of that and brief her against me. Maybe Harry could persuade her that I’d been wrong for her from the start. I’d been distrusting her since we’d been first dating, when I’d believed her to be cheating with Jason.

  Harry could steal her away from me. I don’t care about all that. I’ve been with you all along, he’d say.

  I heard her climbing out of her car, closing the door and locking it. The sound of her walking in high heels across the hard pavement of the parking lot. Walking, presumably, to Block 4-D. Was the phone in her pocket? That was why the video was black, but I could hear what was going on. A heavy door opened, but then there was only silence, only the white noise. Courtney walking down a carpeted hallway, perhaps, her heels making no sound.

  Then: knock, knock.

  “Well, look who the cat dragged in!” It was the voice of Harry Richards. “Or should I say ‘pussy’?”

  Chapter 14

  “Well, I heard you were so lonely...”

  My wife was out, late at night, visiting one of her ex-boyfriends with the expressed intention of fucking him, of cheating on me.

  Sitting there on my couch, focused on an iPhone that wasn’t giving me pictures, only sound, I was shivering in an apartment that was kept at the perfect temperature all year round.

  “Lonely?” Harry Richards laughed.

  “Well, I hear you’ve taken to meeting up with my husband in bars.”

  Courtney sounded mildly irritated with him. Or perhaps she was more strongly angry, but suppressing her rage.

  “Well, I have to hand it to you, Court,” my rival for her affections was saying remarkably casually, “you seem to have found another one just like the long line of cuckolds you dated in college.”

  I heard movement, and came to register part of the white noise I’d been listening to as being Courtney actually moving, though her high heels were still being stifled by carpeting. The door to Harry Richards’ accommodation closed, and I knew for a fact that he had stepped back to allow my wife into his room, and Courtney had accepted his invitation.

  “He’s not a cuckold,” she said sharply.

  “Well that all depends on your definition for it, I guess,” Richards said.

  “He wants me to do it.” I heard the shift of clothing, and with my increasingly attuned hearing it sounded to me that Courtney was taking a seat somewhere. The creak of a leather couch or armchair confirmed it. Courtney went on: “He wants to know it’s happening. He wants to know all the details.”

  “Oh, I know all that. I saw it in him, firsthand. Just what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? The perfect balance.”

  I could hear a smile in Courtney’s voice as she said, “He’s like a unicorn. I didn’t think guys like that could truly exist.” The warmth inside me was hope, that her anger at me would subside, that she wouldn’t end the night upset at me for taking Richards’ word over hers.

  “And now you’re here, in my room, at late minutes past late.”

  “Well...” Courtney said, almost purred at the signs of obvious lust in Richards. “I realize we had to cancel your last appointment...”

  “Never know when the Air Force might feel like checking up on me. Almost wish I really did step into the private sector.”

  “...I thought maybe this might be the only time I get to squeeze you in this week.”

  Richards laughed at her double entendre, but the clear sound of her voice made me quiver. It was no accident, no slip of her tongue.

  “Okay... let me take a look at that shoulder of yours...” that leather couch was creaking again. My wife was examining Richards, but I could not tell how they were seated. Jesus. Could he tell she was wearing nothing under that thin coat other than her lingerie?

  I heard a slight moan—low, so it seemed to me it came from Richards. My heart started spinning, I felt a little light-headed. What were they doing? Was she really just examining his injured shoulder, or were the two of them making out?

  “You’re so tense...” I heard her say. “I told you last time—and the time before. It’s slowing your
recovery.”

  “You’d be tense as well if you were a guy like me,” he growled. “Itching to get out there again, protect my bros out on the battlefield.”

  “Well it’s doing you no good being like this. Really.”

  “It’s okay. It loosens up when I train.”

  “You’re training already? I thought you had another three weeks...”

  “I can’t talk about it, Court, you know that.”

  “Well you shouldn’t be risking your long-term health just because the Agency came knocking... Are you sleeping properly?”

  “I don’t know... sometimes.”

  I heard Courtney sigh. “I could... give you a massage. It would help with the stress a little.”

  “One of those shih tzu massages you used to give the guys on the team back in college?” Richards said.

  Courtney laughed. It was such a beautiful sound. “No, shih tzus are little fluffy dogs. You mean ‘shiatsu’, right?”

  “I don’t know... you say ‘potato’, I say ‘tomato’.”

  “Come on,” she said. “I know exactly how to get rid of all this stress.”

  Movement again. The creak of the couch as Courtney and Richards rose to their feet. The bumps and scuffles and clicks as the phone and its microphone were taken out of Courtney’s pocket. Bang as the thing was put down on some kind of hard surface.

  Then, suddenly, the screen on my phone lit up, and my Skype app was showing a video feed. I couldn’t quite tell what it was on screen, but then Courtney stepped back, and I could see it had been a close-up of her beige coat. Now, there she was with Richards in the close confines of that bathroom.

  She had to be giving me a view of it all on purpose. If you dropped a phone down on a flat surface in a bathroom or anywhere else, any video picture would be of the ceiling or the flat surface itself. She’d propped this phone up somehow, so I could see the bathroom.

  I could see her lean into the shower to switch on the flow of the water.

  “You want me to take a shower first, huh?” he said.

  “Uh-huh.” She stepped back next to him, and now I watched as she pulled open her coat, revealing the scandalously hot black lingerie beneath.

  I gasped.

  “Well, you sure are being persuasive about it,” he said, cracking a wry smile, as Courtney removed her coat and turned to hang it up on the bathroom door, loving every moment as his eyes roamed all over her body.

  I reached for my phone, shaking all over, not quite believing what I was seeing. Yet so damn hard, I had to get out of those tight pants to watch her like that.

  “We should do this properly,” Courtney said. “If you don’t get on that mission, you’re going to go nuts.”

  She was removing her bra. Flicking the catch in the middle of her shoulder blades, slipping the straps off over her shoulders. Turning to hang the thing up on the same hook as her coat, so I could see the profile of her breasts, and just how hard her nipples were.

  “You do this with all your patients?” he asked her.

  She giggled. “You know I can’t talk about any of my other patients.”

  I felt that increasingly familiar burning sensation in the back of my neck, the jolt of shock flushing through my heart at the sense that perhaps there were things Courtney had kept secret from me over the years, after all. Was Richards right? Did she do this kind of thing with other clients?

  Now she was stooping to unfasten the garters holding up her stockings, to slip off her panties.

  “Jesus,” Richards said in barely more than a whisper as he gazed upon her. “You look just the same as you did in college.”

  “You like?” she giggled again. The kind of girlish giggle she didn’t do with me. “I even got that little Brazilian job you always liked so much...”

  I was so hard, and throbbing at the strangely confused feelings I was getting from her hinting that perhaps she hadn’t gotten her Brazilian wax job for my benefit. Or not merely my benefit.

  And, God, she looked incredible; and, God, she was standing right there next to another man wearing almost nothing. Peeling off her stockings, kicking off her shoes...

  And now she was reaching for him, for his shirt, unfastening his buttons.

  “So...” Richards said, “I take it your husband wants you to do this...”

  “He does,” Courtney said, popping the buttons open all the way down to his belt.

  “So you’re going to tell him all about it when you get home?”

  Suddenly, Richards was coming across all nervous as Courtney helped him to remove his shirt, revealing the kind of toned, buff torso that I should have known a military man like him would possess.

  “I told you—he wants to know all the details,” she said, teasing him as she sensed his discomfort.

  “Well... hey... maybe some of it’s classified, right?”

  “Hey, it’s okay,” she smiled warmly. “We did this in college, right? Like, all the time.”

  “This ain’t college.”

  I’m not sure why Richards was suddenly so uncomfortable. From what Courtney had suggested tonight, although she’d been shared by her previous boyfriends, and she’d ended up cheating on them, they hadn’t necessarily wanted her to provide all the details of her infidelities.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” Courtney said, flicking open the man’s belt, pulling his pants open, peering inside. “Come on... it’s just a massage.”

  She crouched to haul down his pants, revealing his muscular legs, but Richards was holding his hands in front of his prick for now. It amused her.

  “You were never this bashful in college.”

  He removed his own socks, and then he was naked with her in that little bathroom. Courtney grabbed one of his hands, and now he couldn’t hide his manhood. I saw that he was already hard. And he was as hairless as she was.

  Jesus. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. She was really doing this.

  All smiley and bright, she led him into the shower stall, tested the water with one hand, but then had Richards step under the flow of the hot water. His cock was hard, sticking straight out from his body as the water started spraying down all over his muscular form. It was huge, I could see why this guy might be her go-to lover back when she was hooked on infidelity.

  Courtney just stood back a moment, admiring him under the water, perhaps letting it sink into her mind exactly what was happening, that she was back to being unfaithful, this time while married no less.

  Then she was running her hands all over his back, and when he turned to her, all over his front. As though he needed assistance to shower. I watched her grab a bottle of soap, pour it out into her hands, which she then used to spread it all over his pecs, his stomach, his arms.

  “Relax...” she said, smiling flirtatiously at him. “You’re supposed to enjoy this, you know.”

  “What’re you gonna tell your husband?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to embarrass you. John wants to know I had a good time, that’s all. He wants to believe I’m getting out-of-this-world sex from you. I’m not here to disappoint my husband.”

  She was washing him all over, seeming impressed at his athletic body, his muscles, being all flirty with him while somehow trying to make it appear that this wasn’t a huge deal, she’d done all this before.

  She washed him all over, but she seemed to pointedly avoid that huge uncut cock of his. I watched her kneel in front of him, her hands swarming all over his thighs, his calves, his hips and waist, around his loins and his balls without straying to his manhood. It was like she was teasing him—or me.

  “You do this kind of thing for your other patients?” Richards asked her.

  “Of course not!” she giggled. I felt a little flash of disappointment that she wasn’t giving secret sexy massages to other patients, but it seemed fairly ridiculous. “And you know... technically you’re not really my patient, either. Since all this is off the books...”

  God, she was really
making sure his thighs were well soaped—but her pretty face was just a few inches away from that huge prick. She stood up, leaving it untouched. Reloaded her hands with soap.

  She stood behind him and soaped his shoulders, his back, his buttocks, the back of his thighs.

  “You did this with Jason, didn’t you?” Richards asked her.

  I felt that prickly heat behind my ears, and along the back of my neck. Listening to something that might have been the real truth emerging here, and it didn’t quite match up with the impression Courtney had given me.

  “Something like it,” she said. Didn’t seem fazed by admitting it, either.

  “I knew it. I knew you fucked him,” Richards said. It seemed like he’d been vindicated. Like he’d been bothered by the idea that Courtney had been sleeping with Jason, not just me. I supposed from everything the two of them had said, that during the time when Courtney had been with Jason, she couldn’t have slept with Harry Richards, because she hadn’t cheated on me with him.

  Courtney merely laughed. “Oh, I never said that.”

  “But you did cheat on John with him.”

  “No,” she said. “I told you. I didn’t fuck Jason.”

  She pushed Richards against the wall, side-on to me, as though she was a cop making an arrest, searching a suspect for hidden weapons. But then she was sliding her soapy arms around his waist, and now she did reach for his hard cock.

  I caught my breath as I watched her hands slip over his length, her fingers curling around it. She pumped it, continuing to stand behind him, definitely much more than simply making sure it was well-soaped.

  Richards groaned. “You saying that this isn’t cheating on John?”

  “I wouldn’t call it that, no.” Courtney crouched by him, jerking his cock and fondling his hairless balls, as though fascinated by them. “Not yet.”

  I guess if I was to fully trust her, she hadn’t handled another man’s equipment since... well, since Jason, from what I was hearing. I wondered if she was going to make him come right there in the shower. Had she made Jason come while doing this?

  No. She stood, and helped to rinse off the soap from all over his body. I felt that bewildering mix of emotions again—I felt some relief that Courtney hadn’t, in her mind, cheated on me with Jason. Even if in some people’s minds it would be defined as cheating. At least she hadn’t lied to me, if you took her at that definition.