A Conventional Hotwife

by Arnica Butler

  “What the fuck,” Mike breathed, “is the universe trying to do to me?”

  For a second I went cold. It felt as though maybe he had sussed out our strange little game. My guilty conscience burst open and I felt my face go red.

  “I'm a married man,” he said. “I am a reformed, non-philandering, married man. Happily married.” He closed his blank notebook. “I do not need this.”

  A few other guys at the table raised their eyebrows.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Only for a second. A second for not getting caught. Then I remembered what I had been agitated by, and I excused myself to go look for my wife. Kathy Banks. Or, if I couldn't find her, the woman who had inhabited her body. Kate Orel.

  The rooms at the hotel that year had been booked all together as a block. When I got to our floor, Kate was already walking briskly down the hallway, away from the elevators. Her walk was sexy, a fast clip, a totally different walk. Even though no one was looking.

  I ran-walked after her and caught her by the arm. I pulled her with me to an enclave around the corner.

  “What are you doing?” I hissed. My voice seemed angrier than I thought I was. Wilder.

  God. I sounded out of control.

  “What do you mean?” Kate said, leaning forward to peer around the wall. She placed one foot against the wall and leaned back with her arms folded across her stomach.

  “I mean, Mike is off-limits. We agreed to that.”

  Kate Orel chuckled. It was an infuriating chuckle, one I'll never forget. She opened her mouth and made a feral noise. “Mike Levin? Are you fucking kidding me?” she whisper-yelled. “He's such a...dweeb.”

  Her stomach twitched with buried laughter.

  I stared at her. She tipped her head questioningly.

  “So what are you doing?” I repeated.

  She shrugged. “Getting into the spirit of things.” She smiled again. “It's pretty fun.”

  A wave of actual fury rolled over me. The only problem was, even as it overtook me, I was trying to place the source of it. I couldn't.

  I must have stood there breathing heavily, a wild look in my eye, for long enough that I alerted her to my altered state. She narrowed her eyes and looked at me inquiringly. “What the heck is your problem?” she said. “I thought you liked watching me flirt?”

  “I do.”

  She shook her head. “It doesn't seem like you do.”

  She looked behind us again. When she turned back to me her voice was no longer a whisper. “Fine. We'll just forget about this whole thing, then,” she said. She pressed her hand against my shirt. “I have to go. I agreed to type up some minutes for Darcy.”

  She pushed away from the wall as if she was going to leave.

  Forget about this whole thing.

  “Wait,” I said, in a whisper and a panic. “No. Wait. That isn't...”

  It wasn't what I wanted.

  Or was it?

  “That isn't what I want.”

  She looked toward the ceiling and bounced a little. “Oh come on! Paul! What do you want, then?”

  I waved my hands over her. “nothing. No, I mean, don't change anything. I just...everything is fine. Just keep at it. I just got...I just got crazy. I thought you were, you know, you had something going on with Mike-”

  She sniffed disdainfully.

  “-and I...you know, this is part of it. The jealousy. It's...look, I'm sorry. Forget I said anything. Please. You're fucking hot.” I was blabbering.

  She put her finger on my lips. “Okay. Stop talking. Just tell me what you want to do.”

  I suddenly felt like an ass.

  “Because I don't want to go through with something, Paul, if you're going to keep freaking out,” she said, after I didn't say anything for a while.

  I tried to turn it around. “I'll freak out privately from now on.”

  “Paul!”

  I shook my head and hung it at the same time, waving my hands up in some kind of gesture of surrender and trying to magic everything away. “Please. Plan is the same. I'm fine, really. I just think I didn't expect you to be so...”

  I looked up at her. Her head was tipped forward and she was staring me down.

  “Sexy,” I said, finishing my thought.

  Her arms flew out from both sides in exasperation. “I thought that was the whole point of this!”

  “It was..” I said. “It is,” I quickly added.

  We looked at each other for bit.

  Kate's face was confused for minute, but amusement quickly replaced her expression. She reached down and slid her hand into my pants. Right into my underwear. Her hot, dry palm closed around my cock. Her other hand began to work on my belt, loosening the tight squeeze between her wrist and my stomach. “Let's say you tell me, right now, what you want,” she purred, “and that's what the deal will be. Okay?”

  She smiled as my cock pulsed in her hand.

  “Kathy,” I breathed, looking nervously past the wall behind her to the hallway. There weren't many rooms at the end of this hallway, only a staircase that no one used; still, it was a dangerous place to be up to these shenanigans.

  She didn't follow my gaze, or turn around. “Kate,” she said, correcting me. Her other hand was now sliding my zipper down.

  “Kate,” I breathed, placing a hand on her busy left hand, but not in a very convincing way. “I don't...think...”

  I stopped mid-sentence as my wife slid down to her knees, pulling my pants and underwear down with her in a single tug. Before I could protest (or even figure out what was going on), her mouth was open and my cock was inside of it.

  Even though I was a little turned on by her performance at the meeting, and her dress, and the squeeze she'd given me in her hand while she was teasing me, I was also utterly shocked. My cock was mostly soft as she took me inside of her, but it didn't take long for the wet, hot interior of her mouth to send me pulsing to life. She slid her tongue around my shaft in circles as my cock grew hard, and then she let it fill her mouth completely, all the way deep into her throat.

  I clutched the wall and stared down at her, open-mouthed. “Kathy!” I gasped.

  She placed a hand near the base of my shaft and slid her mouth up and to the tip of cock, releasing me with a pop. She looked up at me and smiled. “Kate,” she insisted.

  What had I planned to say? We're in a hallway, someone could come by any minute, what? It flew out of my head as Kate, my anti-wife, slid her tongue out of her mouth and licked the tip of my cock. She made a quick swirl around the glans, along the sensitive ridge of it, and then she placed her whole mouth on me again. First the head of my cock was absorbed into her wet mouth, then her lips slid down, all the way to the base of my shaft.

  In less than a minute, she had me worked up to bursting. She bobbed her head over my dick, taking me deep – something Kathy was always able to do but rarely did. This time, though, she was sucking the cum right out of my cock, and I was, incredibly, firing off like a rocket. I sucked in my breath as my cum spurted out of my dick.

  Kathy shocked me even more by swallowing it all. She actually pushed herself down to the base of my cock and let me cum deep in the back of her throat. As she pulled away from me, she sucked on my dick so hard that it made me shudder in quasi-pain. She released me with another wet pop, and then she looked up at me while she wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb.

  She stood up, adjusting her hair and giving a final swipe on her lips. As though nothing had transpired at all.

  I was still there with my pants down. In a daze, I reached for them and started to pull them up.

  “Don't worry,” she said, smiling. “I already have my sights set on someone, and he is definitely not Mike.”

  I looked at her. I couldn't think of anything to say or do, except to blink slowly and say: “That was hot.”

  She put her arms on my shoulders and kissed me. “It's too bad I have to go,” she said. Her hips ground against mine. “I'm really, really, so turned on right
now.”

  “Because you're thinking about this guy of yours?”

  “Well,” she said casually. “That, too.” Then she pushed me away and looked behind her into the hallway. Then she slipped away, without so much as a goodbye.

  *

  “Katie, Kate-Kate-Kate,” Pete slurred. He ran over to my wife with gleeful cheer. His rum sloshed out of his glass. “We're getting together up in my room,” he said. Then he ostentatiously indicated that he had some weed.

  It turned out that at the rum factory, visitors received free samples at nearly every turn of the visit. Then, because we were not in America and on a tour bus, we all drank half the supply of rum we had purchased at the end of the tour. By the time the VerdeCo group tumbled out of the tour bus at the hotel, we were all good and loaded.

  Kate had been there, wearing a pretty white sundress that cut low across her chest and arms, leaving her shoulders bare and giving the tantalizing impression that it might slip off any moment. I remembered our excessive credit card bill, and my annoyance about it began to fade away. It was all worth it if Kate was going to slink along in a dress like that.

  She was drinking with a lot of people, in her flirtatious way, but she didn't really seem to be attaching herself to any one man. Not that she didn't have almost endless options. Nearly every guy at the convention was slobbering over her and talking about her. She would near like a celestial body and then float away with equal grace, and the moment she left their orbit, they started talking about all the things they'd like to do to her.

  And I was was right there. Like a vulture I circled in, and leaned against a railing to “overhear” ever detail I possibly could.

  But then, at the end of the tour, she disappeared.

  She didn't get on the bus.

  I had texted her, and she had never written back.

  And now, here she was.

  It's fair to say that when Kate walked into a room these days, she drew all the attention straight herself. Which was why Pete probably didn't notice at first the thing I saw. The thing I noticed immediately. The thing that made my blood boil and ice over in quick cycles and sent my pulse racing. I felt the cold twist in my lower belly, the feeling I'd become so used to lately.

  Jealousy.

  Kate's slender hand was inside of another man's hand. A large hand.

  A very, very dark hand.

  Next to her was an incredible specimen of man: tall, with a lean athletic physique, dressed very neatly in a pricey-looking suit. Kate dropped his hand and slid her arm through his as she listened to Pete.

  I was drunk. So drunk. I wiped my bleary eyes and stared some more.

  Kate was evidently introducing the two of them – her hot guy and Pete. Pete let his hand get shaken my the big paw of the black man. He smiled, flashing a row of pearly white teeth.

  Then he dropped his hand. And slid it around my wife's waist. And then down.

  I couldn't see exactly, but I felt pretty sure his hand was on her ass.

  Kate took a very brief second to look around the bar.

  Her eyes met mine, and they twinkled at me briefly. Mischievously.

  Almost immediately, though, she turned her face back to her new “friend.” A knife of cold jealousy plunged down my chest as she placed her hand on his chest, and smiled at him. She had to stand on her tiptoes, even in her high heels, just to get her mouth anywhere near his ear.

  Who the fuck was this guy? I thought sourly. Where the fuck did my wife, even as Kate Orel, pick this guy up? And in such short time?

  The guy shrugged, and thy all began to head toward the bar.

  Pete was wasted and buying rounds for anybody who could still see straight and would drink with him, and as Kate and her man sat down, he made this announcement again. “Paul!” he shouted at me, after about five minutes. I was suddenly aware that the music in the bar was considerably louder, and that everyone was very drunk. “This is Kyle Tyler, from Minnesota, he's in marketing! For GreenPan!” GreenPan (“Green Panache” - I know) was a parent company that had taken over VerdeCo in ways I still failed to understand.

  I was looking at my wife, who had a very sly smile on her face. Almost as though she were challenging me.

  But to do what?

  Then man extended his hand, and basically forced mine into his. He clamped down with a firm, smooth shake. His hand seemed like it was twice the size of mine. “Kyle Taylor, nice to meet you, man,” he said pleasantly. “And I do sales, but, uh, not for GreenPan.” He laughed. An easy, what-the-fuck-do-I-care laugh.

  And what the fuck did he care? My wife was sitting next to him with her hand on his knee, leaning closer and closer to him with each passing second. He didn't give a shit if Pete Olsen fucked his name up and called him Kunta Kinte.

  I shook his hand anyway and smiled. “Paul. Banks. From Colorado. And I do work for GreenPan. At least that's what I'm told. Welcome to our party.”

  I was pleasantly surprised by my own elan, so I treated myself to a sip of whiskey. I looked Kate in the eye over the rim of the glass.

  “You all visited the rum factory today, huh?” he said. “Yeah, we uh, did that two days ago.”

  “What can I get you Tyler?” Pete slurred.

  “Not rum,” Kyle said. “Just a beer, man. One of those San Cristobal's.”

  Kate was close to his ear now, and tried not to stare but still get a good luck at her hand sliding over Kyle's thick thigh, rubbing along his inseam, moving closer and closer to his sock. Kyle's almost impassive face twitched a little in obvious pleasure, which rounded itself out on his face with a broadening smile. “And a martini for the lady,” he said.

  Kate purred something in his ear.

  “Dirty,” Kyle added, and totally dropping the conversation, he caught Kate's other hand in his and leaned in toward her. “You like it dirty, huh?”

  The back of my neck felt like someone had set fire to it, while my whole torso was cold with rage.

  And then there was my cock. Bursting to life and pressing out painfully against my pants.

  I watched Kyle's generous mouth press against my wife's heart-shaped lips, and then suck them up like they were a food and he was starving. Their kiss was wet and animal. My cock throbbed. I turned away deliberately and practically shouted at the bartender that I wanted a San Cristobal's as well.

  Kate had started whispering into Kyle's ear.

  My face felt hot. This was it. This was obviously the guy my wife had chosen to go through with it with.

  And that was fine. Good. Couldn't be better, in fact.

  I felt a wave of nausea come over me.

  Then I imagined Kyle's dark skin laid over my wife's pale body, or his dark black cock filling up her pussy, and my cock throbbed with so much painful lust that it pushed the nausea away.

  Then it came back, as I watched Kate's treasonous hands moving along his thigh. Now her pinkie finger was against something in his jeans, and she was rubbing it lightly. Jesus. If that was his cock, it was halfway down his pant leg.

  My stomach turned with excitement and revulsion, again.

  Kate paused her groping to take her drink, which she sipped with a new-found grace that was almost as shocking as her antics. Then she exclaimed. “Oh! Paul!” she dove into her purse. “I almost forgot. I have your notes for the presentation.” She slipped a legal pad to me. I looked down at it. The words were blurred with the images of my wild imagination, but it did in fact seem to contain notes from a presentation.

  “Huh?” I said stupidly.

  Kate didn't miss a beat. She winked at me. “The notes you asked for, silly. You want to go over them tonight?” She lifted the glass to her lips again. “I hope you're not too drunk,” she said off-handedly.

  I took the notepad and held it toward myself. I lifted the first page. Then the second.

  IF IT IS STILL ON FOLLOW US TO THE BEACH

  it read, in capital letters in the middle of the page. Notes that seemed to be real surrounded the bolded sta
tement.

  Really, Kate? Spycraft?

  I let the lifted papers fall back to the pad with a flutter and looked up at her. I cleared my throat.

  This was really it. Everything else before this had been an appetizer. This was what I had asked for. So why did I feel so...what? What did I even feel?

  I looked back at Kate. She smiled at me again, but it was clear she was still waiting for the go-ahead.

  Or was she? Dark thoughts crowded my mind. She obviously had this all on track. She seemed pretty familiar with Kyle already. Maybe she had already done something with him, maybe one of the afternoons I couldn't find her she had already indulged in some “adventures” with this guy.

  My heart rate was so high I'm pretty sure I could have been hospitalized had anyone checked it just then. When I set the legal pad down, I was grateful it was heavy. My hand was shaking and the papers would have fluttered all over the place.

  Pete was talking to all of us, really carrying on a good conversation, but no one was listening at all. I couldn't even hear over my pounding blood, but my attention was zeroed in on the way my wife's white dress kept merging with Kyle's dark skin in the periphery of my eye. His hand was on her shoulder...I strained my eyeball, trying to look straight ahead but still get a clear view of them...was he leaning in to -?

  Yes. He had slipped a shoulder strap down and was kissing my wife's shoulder.

  My cock pulsed and I leaned over the table as a wave of nausea went through me. Together, the two feelings were just painful.

  I heard Kathy laugh.

  No, not Kathy, I reminded myself. Kate.

  Unable to stop myself, I shifted in my seat to look at them. Kyle's fingers were underneath the fabric of the dress, playfully slipping the straps off her shoulders, making the fabric bunch near her mountainous breasts. Even Pete couldn't keep his eyes from flicking frantically back and forth from his drink to Kate's chest. Any second now, we all were thinking and hoping, the white fabric would slip just a little too far...

  Kyle nuzzled against her neck. They were talking in low voices to each other now, as if no one else was in the world but them. As if they weren't making a scene, acting like teenagers, making out at a bar.