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

by Blaise Quin

I let the purse fall to the floor.

  The dress pooled around my ankles. I felt both naked and trapped at the same time. I’d never been so exhilarated by undressing in my entire life.

  Waiting for Nathan Chase to pass judgment.

  “Your bra doesn’t match,” he commented.

  Of course it didn’t. I wasn’t wearing panties, so there was nothing to match it to. It might have matched ever so slightly if I still had my small patch of dark pubic hair.

  But I had shaved it off just before coming to the hotel.

  I reached back and unsnapped my bra, letting it fall. “Now I match,” I said.

  Attuned as I was to him, I saw the slightest change in his demeanor. His eyes narrowed, his head cocked, his shoulders squared. Whether he was amused or angry was impossible to tell.

  Still he said nothing. I suddenly felt less steady in my tall heels, as if my nakedness was affecting my balance. I don’t know how much time went by. What was he thinking? Did my body disappoint him? I pulled back my shoulders, making my breasts more prominent. I would have put one foot in front of the other to draw his attention to my legs, but I was trapped in my dress, and I dared not move until he told me to.

  This was the danger of wanting a man who got everything he wanted. I had no doubt Nathan Chase had more than his share of women, beautiful women. He could close the door—he could tell me to close the door—and cast me aside. I was sure a simple call would bring another woman to the room, a woman more to his liking.

  Yet still he waited.

  I remembered how I had met him in the coffee shop. Surrounded by his underlings, perhaps putting on a show for them when he brazenly approached me. No doubt they had complimented him later, giving him their approval, their praise. This was a man not only accustomed to getting his way, but wanting to be reminded of his power.

  “Please,” I said, not having to fake the pleading in my voice.

  He made me wait, he made me suffer, as I knew he would. Then he made the tiniest of hand gestures, a simple flick of his finger. Good enough, it seemed to say. You paid your toll to get in.

  Making it clear I had much more to prove.

  I stooped for my purse, stepped out of my dress, and entered the room.

  Peter

  I ran down the hall, almost knocking over the nasty woman.

  “Animal!” she yelled.

  She didn’t know the half of it.

  An odd mass was at the foot of the door Andie had disappeared into.

  I skidded to a stop in front of room 3210. Andie’s dress was lying on the floor.

  I stared at it, then at the door. I couldn’t hear any sounds. My eyes went back and forth from the dress to the door, behind which my wife was with another man.

  She still hadn’t called.

  The mousy woman was almost abreast of me. I quickly grabbed up the dress and rolled it under my jacket. It was easy to hide, that’s how skimpy it was.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded. “Are you a guest here?”

  “Someone left this for me,” I said.

  “I’m going to call security.”

  “Mind your own business. My wife is in this room.”

  “Then what are you doing out in the hall?”

  That was a very good question. One which, even if I tried to answer it, would be unbelievable to any other ears but my own. Right now, even my own acceptance of the story was in question.

  “It’s a surprise,” I said. I pulled the dress out from hiding, holding it up or her. A black bra, caught up in the dress, fell to the floor. I gulped, finally managing to say, “See? Get it?”

  The woman’s eyes widened. “Reprobate.”

  I shrugged. “Different stokes.”

  She sniffed and moved off down the hall. At the far end she slipped her key card in a door, turned to me, and, her voice dripping with disdain, said, “And your wife is a hussy.”

  Which I couldn’t quite disagree with at that moment.

  Her door slammed, leaving me alone in the hall. I looked up and down, just to be sure, and put my ear to the door.

  Just as I thought I could make out some words, my phone buzzed.

  I fumbled for it, dropping my jacket and Andie’s dress in my haste. “Andie?”

  Instead of an answer I heard a resounding smack, the unmistakable sound of flesh on flesh.

  A slap.

  “Andie!”

  “Peter, I’m fine. Everything is okay.” Andie’s voice was oddly stilted.

  Another slap. This time I realized why it was so loud. I was hearing it both through the door and through the phone.

  “Andie!”

  “I’m fine, Peter. Nathan Chase—”

  Slap.

  “I mean Mr. Chase, wants me to keep the phone line open. So you can listen in, especially for this part.”

  “But Andie, is he. . . are you being hit?”

  Slap.

  “I deserve it, I was late.”

  My mind recoiled. He was hitting her. I tensed my shoulder to slam into the door, in such shock I forgot all about the key card. Another slap, then Andie’s voice, “Please, Mr. Chase, punish me.”

  A pause, then came the hardest slap of all. There was no way that was the sound of Andie’s face being slapped.

  Nathan Chase was slapping Andie’s ass.

  Then, clear as day, so loud I didn’t need the open phone line to hear, Andie moaned.

  A moan only a man who had slept with a woman would recognize. A moan of intense arousal.

  I stopped my charge into the door just in time. Andie wanted this—punishment.

  Never, even in her most excruciating sharing of her fantasies, had Andie ever mentioned wanting to be spanked. Why hadn’t she shared this with me?

  Perhaps she had just discovered that it turned her on.

  The fact that she was getting spanked for being late was my fault. It was because of what she had done in the lobby, delaying her tryst with Nathan Chase in order to titillate me in front of those other men.

  I was not only the cause of her being in that room, but the reason she was being spanked.

  Slap.

  Slap, slap, slap!

  The door was solid wood, yet it didn’t stop me from picturing what was going on behind. Andie was bent over, perhaps against a sofa, in nothing but her heels, her legs spread, her muscles tense, waiting for the next blow.

  Another moan.

  “Did you learn your lesson?” The voice of Nathan Chase, in control.

  “Yes, Mr. Chase!”

  “What did you learn?”

  “I’ll never be late for you again!”

  Again. Like Andie was already planning on coming back to him.

  “You haven’t earned a next time yet,” said Nathan Chase.

  One final slap, then a silence. I strained to hear at both the door and the phone.

  The door told me nothing, but from the phone I caught a few muffled sounds. Feeling like an idiot, but not caring if anyone saw me, I put one ear against the door and pressed the phone to my other ear.

  “You look even better on your knees,” said Nathan Chase. “Now earn it.”

  I groaned through clenched teeth. He was making her beg.

  An agonizing silence. What was Andie doing?

  What else would she be doing on her knees?

  Unbidden, my dick pushed painfully against my pants, right into Andie’s bra and dress, which I still held.

  “I can’t,” said Andie. “I’m a married woman.”

  “You do this a lot as a married woman? Be on your knees, naked?”

  A slight hesitation, making me wonder if Andie was thinking of what to say to excite him, or what not to say because I was listening.

  “Just for you, Mr. Chase.”

  “Good answer. Keep going.”

  A muffled sound. Then Nathan Chase’s voice again, harsh. “Give me that.”

  From the phone I heard another unmistakable sound. The sound of a zipper being slowly pulled down
.

  The sinuous clicks so loud, so distinct. . .

  Nathan Chase was holding Andie’s phone right up against his crotch.

  A gasp, I wasn’t sure if it was me or Andie. “So big,” she whispered.

  More excruciating moments of almost, but not quite complete, silence. What was Andie doing? Admiring his cock? Stroking him? Touching herself?

  I had to resist doing the same.

  “Suck it,” said Nathan Chase. “Open your mouth and take it.”

  “I can’t,” protested Andie.

  “Because you’re married?”

  She was going to stop! She had done all this, she knew I was listening, but she was going to draw the line! I half pulled away from the door, expecting her to burst out. She couldn’t know I was standing right here, she’d want to grab her dress and escape to me.

  “Because you’re too big,” said Andie.

  I groaned, dropping my jacket and Andie’s clothes. I had to, because my hand had raced to my cock.

  “Don’t make me tell you again,” said Nathan Chase.

  “I—” Andie’s voice was cut off, followed by a gagging sound.

  “I know you want it, bitch. Take it.”

  My fingers felt for my erection through my pants. I was helpless. I couldn’t break in, I couldn’t see, and I certainly couldn’t jerk off in the hallway.

  Would Andie stop and free me from my torment?

  A long, long silence. What was she doing?

  Just as I was about to lose it, one of the doors down the hall opened.

  My head jerked around. A woman emerged from the room, turning the other way, toward the elevator. Right behind her was a man. As he closed the door he glanced my way. I jumped away from the door, certain I looked guilty. The man hesitated, so I pretended I had just left the room and had dropped my jacket. I quickly picked it up, rolling up Andie’s dress and bra, and headed off toward the elevator.

  The man’s eyes were still on me until I was almost abreast of him.

  “Jim, are you coming?”

  He gave me one long look, then headed toward the woman.

  From my phone, had you not known what it was, came what might have seemed like nothing more than muffled sounds.

  Knowing what it was, the source of the sound was painfully clear.

  I quickly turned down the volume, slowly following, hoping the couple would take the elevator down so I could stay in the hall alone. But the elevator took forever to show up. Frantic, I considered muttering Left something in my room, but had this image of them still waiting for the elevator when I walked back up the hall but not entering a room. They’d report me for sure.

  Which was why, a minute later, I was crammed in an elevator car full of people, my wife’s dress and bra hidden under my jacket, snug up against my crotch.

  Andie

  Nathan Chase pressed my phone against my cheek. On the other end of the line, my husband was no doubt still listening. For some reason this excited even more; it was like he was right there in the room.

  “Suck it,” demanded Nathan Chase. “Open your mouth and take it.”

  His cock had jumped out of his pants the second I had unzipped him. His cashmere slacks were silkily soft. His cock was thick and hard.

  I still hadn’t touched him, not directly.

  “I can’t,” I said.

  “Because you’re married?”

  Which had been my defense against Nathan Chase at the coffee shop. He had ignored me then, laughing. Now he had his cock pointing at my face, daring me to use the same laughable excuse.

  Peter had thought Nathan Chase was cocky when he had come on to me in the coffee shop. Peter must not have been speaking literally, yet Nathan Chase was truly cocky right now.

  This is the man I had envisioned fucking me. The man that my husband envisioned fucking me.

  As much for Peter as for Nathan Chase, I said, “Because you’re too big.”

  It wasn’t much of an exaggeration. Yes, I’d had bigger cocks, but I didn’t need to tell Nathan Chase that. His was big enough. And still had room to grow.

  “Don’t make me tell you again,” said Nathan Chase.

  “I—.”

  He caught me with my mouth open, grabbing the back of my head and driving his cock deep into my mouth. My lips opened as my throat constricted, and I gagged.

  “I know you want it, bitch. Take it.”

  His animal magnetism, combined with his powerful aura, not to mention his very real cock, sent me into sexual overdrive. Without even thinking I reacted, mouthing him, licking, sucking wildly, like I imagined a prostitute or a porn star would do, the kind of woman Nathan Chase seemed to be attracted to, yet wouldn’t stoop to pay for.

  He jammed the phone right against my cheek. “Give your husband an earful.”

  I made loud sucking noises, the cock growing in my mouth. I stroked his shaft with one hand and tried to reach for my aching clit with the other, but Nathan Chase warned, “None of that.”

  I groaned in disappointment. Needing to do something with my other hand, I cupped his balls through his slacks. He seemed to like that, so I expertly undid his belt, old skills coming back. On my knees sucking a cock, muscle memory, like riding a bicycle.

  I prided myself on letting his cock out of my mouth for only a few seconds to get his slacks down. I hoped Nathan Chase noticed my dexterity.

  He pulled the phone from my face. I looked up, his cock still in my mouth, my eyes wide, as he said to my husband, “I’d have your wife tell you what she’s doing now, but it’s rude to talk with your mouth full.”

  He returned the phone to my cheek as I sucked him. His words to Peter drove me wild, and I hoped were driving Peter wild as well. Where was he right now? Was he still in the lobby, listening to all this? Was he hard? Did he have his hand secretly in his lap?

  My neck ached, the floor hard on my knees. As humiliating as this position was, I felt alive, my inexplicable arousal over being roughly used overcoming my discomfort. My rational brain told me, just as it had told me hundreds of times since the very first time a man had been rough with me, that this wasn’t right. No woman should have sex like this, no woman should enjoy sex this way.

  My body told me a totally different story.

  The sex therapist had said there was nothing wrong with me.

  I pushed the rational arguments aside and let myself go.

  I sucked Nathan Chase like I had never sucked another man in my life. I took him deep into my throat until I gagged. I slammed my face into his crotch, face fucking myself. Soon he was pulling at the back of my head, matching my thrusts.

  I could tell, just as any woman who had experience giving head knew, when he was ready. His body stiffened even as his breath flew faster, guttural sounds emerged from deep in his throat.

  I knew exactly what he wanted, what a man like Nathan Chase would want.

  I grabbed his shaft with both hands even as I pulled my face away. The head of his cock flushed and grew as I pulled down on the skin, his cock a massive growth between my hands.

  “Come on my face!” I begged.

  “Bitch,” he muttered, as if angry I was no longer in his mouth.

  My mouth was wide open, yet his first spurt was so powerful it hit me in the forehead. I moaned and leaned forward, catching the second strong shot on my upper lip, the pungent, salty tang filling my nostrils, hitting my tongue. I expected he would push himself into my mouth, but instead he shoved himself onto my face, covering my cheeks with jets of thick cum.

  I moaned, lost in the thrill of getting a man off. Strong as he was, I would not be denied, and grabbed at his cock with my lips, deliriously catching the last, yet still wonderfully thick, eruptions.

  When he was finally finished I let his seed linger in my mouth, then swallowed it all.

  Peter

  The ride to the lobby was interminable. I danced from foot to foot, my hand on the phone in my pocket, as if I’d be able to feel what was going on in the room
above.

  Guests got on and off. I was staring at the back of a woman’s head, and in my mind she turned into Andie, and I was watching from behind as Andie was kissing Nathan Chase. Or more.

  I was about to pull the phone out and listen, taking the chance someone would overhear the depraved sounds of sex, when a phone rang. I panicked, thinking I had lost the link to Andie.

  I took out the phone. The screen still said Andie, showing a picture of her face. Her little smile, the one that I always thought made her look like she was hiding a little secret.

  Right now it looked more like she was hiding a little fantasy.

  I put the phone to my ear but couldn’t hear anything. Shit.

  A woman said, “That’s so rude.”

  She wasn’t talking to me, she was talking to her companion, commenting about another guy who had answered his call. Still, I sheepishly put my phone away.

  The damned elevator finally made it to the ground level. I was practically forced out with the impatient guests, and immediately turned to get back on. The car was not empty, and I realized it were going down to the garage.

  The door closed and I pulled out my phone as I waited for another car. I turned up the volume just as Andie yelled, “Come on my face!”

  Her shocking words were desperately uttered. Pleading.

  I’d never come on a woman’s face in my entire life. Certainly not my wife’s.

  Especially not my wife’s. What kind of husband did that?

  Yet the image of it was breathtaking. Andie on her knees, being forced to suck on Nathan Chase, the forcefulness of the man driving her to such a level of arousal she wanted his cum all over her. Not only wanting it, begging for it.

  Instead of waiting for the elevator I ran awkwardly to the men’s room, my stiff cock pointing the way.

  Andie

  My face was hot and sticky, remnants of Nathan Chase’s arousal. A huge spurt had hit me square in the eye and I couldn’t open it. From the other eye I saw a brief flash of a wicked smile on Nathan Chase’s face. Perhaps he thought I couldn’t see this revelation of his pleasure. His eyes were glazed, unfocused.

  One of his hands was still behind my head, my hair twisted. Yet after his explosion he had released the pressure.