Satisfying Her Needs 2: A Hotwife Revealed Story (Her Needs Series)

by Blaise Quin

  I think I did as well.

  The room was pretty full, but there were a few empty chair groupings. Instead of sitting at one of those, Andie chose one where three men sat in separate lounge chairs like the one I sat in. The loveseat in the grouping was empty.

  Andie sat down on the loveseat. I didn’t have to look to know that the three men around her were staring. She was surrounded, one man on her left, one on her right, one in front of her.

  I half expected other men to rush up behind.

  She slowly, languidly, crossed her incredible legs, the movement so natural, so common, yet serving as a magnetic enticement, a call for testosterone.

  Every man in that room knew exactly what she was doing, she was showing herself off. Flaunting.

  Not a single man cared that she was doing it on purpose.

  The insecure ones no doubt thought she was a tease. The powerful ones were confident they could overcome her tease and get her.

  Andie’s eyes moved from man to man, a slight smile on her lips. A woman so secure in her sexuality she could sit there doing nothing and yet not appear to be waiting.

  She made a subtle movement, and her dress slid up her thigh.

  I leaned forward involuntarily. Although I was halfway across the wide room, I swore I caught a glimpse of the lacy top of thighs, of her. . .

  No, that had to be a trick of my mind, there was no way she’d flash herself. Yet the man directly in front of her must have seen plenty.

  I heard a man groan off to my right, no doubt he was staring as well. The entire room seemed to fill with sexual tension.

  My cock stiffened. I had no doubt that there were many other erections in that lounge.

  Just the thought pushed my cock against my pants. All those men, getting hard, thinking about my wife.

  I expected Andie was enjoying this, putting on show for me. Perhaps getting herself worked up for Nathan Chase.

  Who was no doubt going to be very worked up himself, and perhaps angry, when she showed up late.

  One of the men stood up and took two steps toward her, bringing the tension to an even higher pitch. A lion going in for the kill.

  Andie gave him a long look, then waited until he was almost in her space before suddenly rising, readjusting her dress in one fluid motion. Sending two very clear signals at the same time.

  I’m not interested in you, was the first.

  And the other was that she had, in fact, been showing off way too much leg.

  She walked through the lounge, detouring slightly to pass an arm’s length from me. I had to fight the temptation to reach out, to grab her, to claim her in front of all those men. We could go home, or better yet, get our own room in that very hotel. My cock was so hard I could satisfy her, she didn’t need fucking Nathan Chase.

  Just as I was about to jump up she turned her eyes fully on me. They were more alive than I had ever seen, filled with excitement, arousal, reeling from the thrill of having drawn the attention of all those men, the knowledge of having turned me on, the expectation of what would come next.

  I could not deny those eyes, her desire.

  My hand fell into my lap, whacking my stiff erection.

  The smile on Andie’s lips was pregnant with appreciation and promise. Appreciation for setting up this tryst. And promise for what she would do for me later.

  Andie

  I stood in front of the elevator, feeling the eyes behind me. The eyes of countless men, wanting me. Yet not drawing me to them, rather, pushing me forward.

  One of those men was my husband. Because of his desire, because of his love, because of his wish to please me, and yes, because of his craving for me to be with another man, I did exactly what he wanted me to do, what we both wanted me to do.

  I pushed the elevator button.

  That simple act, as much as the phone call to Nathan Chase, as much as all the fantasies Peter and I had shared, sent a shock though my system, as if the button was a bared electrical wire.

  The wait for the elevator was agonizing. I tottered in my stilettos. Drops of anticipation formed on my bare inner thighs.

  When the bell dinged, I almost fell over. I’d been leaning toward the door, my path to a new thrill. The bell seemed uncommonly loud, signaling every man in the lobby that I had been summoned.

  The elevator door opened, but I knew I was going to be late. Nathan Chase was going to be angry, perhaps fiercely so.

  The very thought of that possibility sucked me into the elevator.

  Peter

  I caught one final glimpse of Andie as she entered the elevator. One final glimpse of her tight ass, her luscious legs, her sexy shoulders. Just as the door closed, she turned to face out into the lobby.

  She was still smiling.

  Her eyes were looking up, toward her destination.

  I stared at the door for a long time. Above it, the indicator lights for each floor marked her progress. Three. What was Andie thinking now? Seven. Was she having second thoughts? Twelve. The hotel lobby had grown strangely quiet. Twenty. I glanced around the room. Dozens of eyes were doing exactly what I was, watching that elevator. Twenty six.

  Twenty six. The elevator had stopped.

  Had another guest got on? Or had Andie changed her mind at the last minute?

  I almost expected my phone to ring. Or a text. I thought of what she might communicate.

  Peter, I’m coming back down.

  I want you.

  Let’s go home.

  Messages of second thoughts.

  Messages to please me, messages that would excite me, messages that would replace Nathan Chase, and those other men, with me.

  Yet she might send a different message entirely, any one of these:

  I can’t wait.

  I’m so excited I’m touching myself.

  I forgot the condoms but I’m going anyway.

  Such different messages, and yet, in their own way, just as arousing, just as thrilling.

  Twenty nine. The elevator was moving. I let out the breath I’d been holding.

  Thirty two.

  End of the line.

  Andie

  The elevator door opened. A wide elegant hallway lay before me, doors to either side, doors of secrecy, of possibilities. Behind how many of those doors right now were men and women having sex? Or women and women, men and men. Husband and wives, couples. Hookups.

  Was there another wife behind one of those doors, having sex with a lover, a stranger? Had one of those men in the lobby been a husband, just like Peter, waiting for his wife upstairs?

  I’d been in a hundred hotels, but had never looked at a hallway in quite that way.

  I stepped off of the elevator. The door closed behind me quietly, yet with the power of a shove in the back. I moved forward, the lush pile absorbing the sounds of my heels.

  The first room I passed was 3201. As intent as I was on my destination, I paused, then put my ear to the door. Nothing but silence. I moved on to the next room. No doubt if anyone saw me they would think me a voyeur.

  I wondered what it would sound like to anyone listening at the door to the room where I would soon be.

  3205. Half way there.

  I was alone in the hallway, and yet I felt a hundred eyes followed me. My husband, downstairs. What was he doing now? Was he still in that same chair, staring at the elevator? Did he still have that same look on his face as he had when I had passed him, the wonderful, thrilling mix I had come to understand, the mix of arousal, of expectation, of anxiety, and yes, perhaps a tinge of jealousy. Yet whatever negative emotions he harbored, all were overcome by the knowledge of my desire, of knowing deep down that he was not only implicit in my pleasure, but part of it.

  I’d flirted with many men, kissed many men, massaged them, stroked them, let them touch me. Yet no amount of foreplay had ever led to the look of complete and utter hunger that I’d seen on Peter.

  Had he stood up? Was he right now pacing the floor? Or was he unable to stand, hampered
by an erection?

  3207. I forced myself to slow down. To imagine the other eyes picturing my movements. The other men in the lobby, especially those who I had sat across from. They had looked at me like the man on the sidewalk, perhaps thinking I was a high end hooker. Or perhaps just a woman waiting for her date. All of them had wanted me, even before I let my dress slide up my leg.

  If only they knew what I had on underneath. Or didn’t.

  The man across from me, I hoped, had learned the truth.

  3208. My movements slowed to a crawl. Perhaps I should have stopped to talk to Peter in the lobby. To make sure this is what we wanted. I was certainly worked up enough by then; I would have been happy to just go home and be in our own bed. Or get our own room in the hotel. Perhaps this room, right next to where Nathan Chase waited. We could have sex against the wall, loud. Peter wouldn’t mind that I’d be picturing Nathan Chase. Especially since he would be so close, yet unable to touch me. Peter would, no doubt, get a thrill that it was his cock in me, instead of Nathan Chase’s.

  I felt for my phone in my small purse. I swiped the screen to see if I had missed a message, honestly unsure which I preferred: to have a message from Peter calling it off, or one urging me onward.

  No new messages.

  I put the phone away and stood in front of room 3210. Behind that door was a man I barely knew, yet a man who even now made my legs quiver, my stomach tighten, my throat parch.

  No, it was not just because of him. It was because of what he represented, a return to a sexuality I had long repressed. A sexuality I had given up on, in return for stability and support and love.

  Behind that door was a chance, slim as it was, to have not only the cake, but the most decadent of icings.

  To get the sex I so craved, and still have an amazing love, an incredible marriage.

  I raised my hand and knocked.

  Peter

  I couldn’t stand the waiting. I jumped up out of the chair, took two steps toward the elevator, then stopped. What was I going to do? If I went after Andie now, it would be such a letdown for her. I’d seen the look on her face. She wanted this.

  And if we stopped now, we’d always wonder. Not just her, but me as well.

  Yes, there was Rodney. But it felt like we had no choice with him; he was all about getting the video back. Nathan Chase, on the other hand, was a decision.

  What would happen if Andie fell for this man? What would happen if she fell for the experience, if it turned out that the only way she could be satisfied was through men like Nathan Chase? Was I destined to only satisfy my wife by letting her fuck other men?

  This depressing thought was complicated by the very real erection I was sporting, my dick pointing at the elevators. How could I possibly be horny now?

  My body was telling me one thing, my mind another. It was an argument my mind could worry its way to a win logically, but my body was just saying fuck you to my mind, giving me a middle finger of an erection.

  I must have looked like an idiot, standing there frozen. Especially with my dick driving against my pants.

  I sat back down in the chair, pulling my jacket into my lap.

  I tried to breathe normally, an impossible task. I pulled out my phone. The plan was for Andie to call me to let me know everything was okay.

  I suddenly realized I was too far away to help her if she wasn’t okay.

  I ran for the elevator, holding my jacket awkwardly over my crotch. I jammed my finger on the up button. There were three elevators, but none of them appeared to be returning to the lobby. I hit the button again like a machine gun.

  “That doesn’t help,” said a voice to my right. I turned to see stern faced woman.

  “Go fuck yourself,” I muttered under my breath.

  The door finally opened. A couple was on the elevator, but made no move to exit. I belated realized they must have ridden up from the parking garage.

  I got on, as did the stern faced mousy woman behind me. Before I had a chance to act she had pushed the button for the 32nd floor.

  Shit.

  I moved to the back of the car, my arms folded, holding my jacket so that it draped down over my crotch. The couple stood next to me, the man whispering something into the woman’s ear. She smiled, caught me looking at her, then blushed bright red.

  I could guess what the guy had said. Something along the lines of what he was going to do to her once they got to their room. Just like Nathan Chase might be at that minute telling Andie what he was going to do to her. To my wife.

  The couple got off at twenty. At any other time I might have been amused by their actions, I might have checked out her ass as she left the car. Instead I pounded the door close button.

  This time the woman didn’t say a word.

  At thirty two I held the door for her, hoping she’d disappear fast. She got off, ignoring me.

  Down the hall, I caught a brief glimpse of movement. I couldn’t see, because the mousy woman was in the way.

  I pushed by her just in time to see Andie slip in to a room.

  Andie

  The door opened. I sucked in a ragged breath at the sight of Nathan Chase. I had met him, I’d been attracted to him, I’d fantasized about him. Yet seeing him again in the flesh made me shiver. No quick meeting in a public place, no fantasy, could replicate his sheer magnetism, his powerful aura.

  If I thought he might be pleased to see me it sure wasn’t visible in his face. Not a hint of a smile, his square jaw set. His eyes were gray, like hard steel. He wore a blue dress shirt and a power red tie. I’m sure he had custom tailored suit pants and great shoes, but I couldn’t pull my eyes from his face to look.

  “You’re late,” he said, his voice as hard as his eyes. He turned and walked away, dismissively.

  For a big man, he had an incredibly tight set of buns.

  I took one step into the room, trying to form words in my mind.

  Without looking back at me, he said, “I didn’t invite you in.”

  I froze, my heart beating hard. After all the discussion with Peter about coming this far, all the trepidation, all the anticipation, was Nathan Chase going to deny me?

  “I wanted to get my outfit just right for you,” I said.

  He turned to me, languidly, like he didn’t care either way. “You should have started sooner.”

  “I hardly slept, thinking about it.” Which was the truth. The part I left out was how many times Peter and I had watched each other masturbate, talking dirty about this very moment.

  Nathan Chase eyed me up and down. “And after all that, you still look like a slut. An expensive one, but still a slut. Tell me, did you get propositioned on the way in?”

  I bit my tongue. How could he have known? “I thought you liked this dress.”

  “I told you I’d like it better on the floor. Or better yet. . .” His eyes gleamed, the first change in his demeanor. “This is the second time your husband let you walk out of the house in the middle of the day dressed like you are going clubbing.”

  “I dressed like this for you.”

  “Did he see you in it?”

  I nodded.

  “And?”

  “He thought I looked good in it.” I was still standing outside the room. Although I heard no one else in the corridor, I still felt like I was on display.

  “Good? Is that what he said?”

  “He said I looked hot.” Peter had said much more, but that was the gist of it.

  “So you were dressing to please him as much as me?” Nathan Chase’s voice had the intensity of a prosecutor about to coerce the witness to confess.

  I couldn’t lie under the force of his gaze. “Yes.”

  “Then take it off. I don’t want to see you in a dress your husband wanted you to wear. I told you from now on you’d only dress like that for me.”

  I crossed the threshold, but Nathan Chase immediately put up a hand. “I still didn’t invite you in.”

  “You told me to take off my dres
s.”

  “That’s right. Don’t make me say it again.”

  “But I’m in the hall.”

  His steely stare was his only response.

  He wasn’t expecting me to undress out in the hall, was he? I’d be visible to anyone coming out of their room or arriving on the elevator. I shifted my head slightly at the thought. Was anyone in the hall?

  “Don’t you fucking look,” he ordered.

  My eyes snapped back at his command. Did Nathan Chase know how much being told what to do turned me on?

  I reached back for my zipper. This wasn’t going as I had fantasized, having Nathan Chase remove my dress as he kissed me with a hard frenzy.

  Obviously Nathan Chase had other ways of taking what he wanted.

  Being told what to do was even better than a fantasy of being roughly kissed and having my clothes torn off.

  My fingers twitched as I struggled to hold my purse and pull down my zipper. My purse reminded me of my phone. I was supposed to call Peter, to let him know I was all right.

  Was I?

  I finally managed to grasp the zipper. I pulled it down, subconsciously spreading my arms and legs so my dress wouldn’t come completely off. Still, it dropped to reveal my breasts, my nipples poking through the lace. And not from being cold.

  His face never wavered. Nathan Chase must be an incredible poker player.

  I fought back the urge to make him wait, to let his excitement build. But there was a thin line between frustrated excitement and annoyance. Anger. If I made him wait too long, he might deny what I now wanted more than ever.

  I let the dress slip down, revealing all of my chest, my stomach. The dress caught on my hips.

  I hoped he liked my black bra. I had bought it just for him. Although, to be fair, Peter had paid for it.

  Just that thought raised the hairs on my arms.

  When I sensed Nathan Chase would wait no longer, and neither could I, I shimmied my hips. The dress dropped to my calves, caught up on one arm, because I was holding my purse.