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

by Blaise Quin

  Andie seemed to consider, a small smile playing over her lips. “I’m not sure I’d want you to be there. I might be too nervous.”

  What was she saying? That she was considering actually doing something? Really having sex with someone else? Or was she just teasing, playing along with my fantasy?

  “Maybe you could make a video,” I said, offhandedly.

  Andie raised her eyebrows. “Now that’s an idea. We could watch it together, after.” And now she resumed stroking me, and the image was locked into my head, me watching a video of Andie stroking some guy, just like she was stroking me now. And then fucking him. And later, we’d watch it together, and maybe she’d make me. . .

  “Wait!” I said, suddenly thinking of something.

  Andie stopped stroking my cock. “What?”

  “Not that,” I said. “I didn’t want you to stop that. I just thought, since I’m not going to be here tonight, why are you going out today, to, you know, find someone else, won’t that get you all worked up, and. . .”

  “You’re right,” she said, sighing. “I hadn’t thought of that. I just saw you lying there, and wanted to have some fun.” She resumed stroking me. “I guess maybe I should take this outfit off, just stay home? Is that what you want me to do?”

  “Not if you don’t want to. If you think you can, you know, not get frustrated in case you meet someone.”

  Andie sighed again, dramatically. “I don’t know. I could try. And I guess I could always use my dildo if I come home all wet and turned on. I could think of some big black man fucking me. . .” Now she was stroking me in earnest, still not touching my cock directly, just wrapping the sheet around it, making a tent, massaging and pulling.

  “Is that what you would do?” I said, barely able to concentrate, both from what she was doing and now thinking of her lying in the bed, her legs spread, plunging the dildo into her pussy.

  “I guess that’s all I could do. You wouldn’t want me to bring someone home here, would you? And let him fuck me, in our bed?”

  I groaned, the thought so outlandish, so taboo, her lying where I was right now, a black man on top of her, slamming her into our bed. “No, no,” I moaned, but my body betrayed me, and my cock tried to jump, but Andie held it firm, smothered by the sheet, just as her pussy had smothered me, and I shot my load, the stain spreading on the fabric, and then seeping down my shaft, dripping onto me, just as Andie’s pussy juices had forced themselves into my mouth as she sat on my face.

  Chapter 10

  At the hotel that night I pulled out my laptop and did a quick check of my emails. It was still early. I had already left a text for Andie that I had arrived safely. I was itching to call her up, see how her day had gone, see if she had met anyone. Had she flirted? Had a drink with a guy? Let him touch her in the bar?

  Would she tell me if she did?

  Had she gone home all worked up, needing to resort to her sex toys?

  If she didn’t call me. . .I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep, not knowing, wondering what she might have done.

  To take my mind off of it I decided to take advantage of the fee I had to pay for using the hotel wifi. I propped up the pillow and set the computer on my lap.

  My joke to Andie about the video had given me an idea. Maybe she would like to watch a video of people doing exactly what we had been talking about, a wife having sex with another man. It might be fun for both of us, maybe it would get her excited. I certainly wanted to see what her reaction would be.

  And deep down, I was hoping that maybe she wouldn’t need to be constantly thinking of other men to get aroused enough to have sex with me. Sure, this was kind of fun now, but after a while, would I be happy knowing that my wife only get off thinking about someone else? Or would we go back to the way things were, with us hardly having any sex?

  Some porn might be the answer. I got off on it, most men did, but I’d read that quite a few women liked it too. Andie had never mentioned liking porn, but for all I knew, she looked at it too. So if I found some videos that she liked, it might get her in the mood. The videos might be real enough for her. Even if she fantasized about the men in the videos, that would be much better than her flirting with real men. Because is she had to do that, who knew what might eventually happen?

  Plus, the research would certainly be fun. . .

  I started surfing. What would she like? The ones with the husband in the room? The ones with a black man? Or more than one?

  A few of each, I thought. I was looking forward to seeing what kind of porn Andie found interesting. I was surprised how easy it was to find pretty good material; most of the sites actually allowed me to download some videos to a thumbdrive.

  One site had a pretty comprehensive search feature. I could just check off what I wanted, and it would find videos for me. After a few combinations of search selections I honed in on what I needed.

  On one video I saw a blonde woman with two black men. She didn’t really look like Andie, but had a similar build, and it gave me an idea. What if I could find someone who looked like Andie in a video. . .

  I searched for an hour, but came up empty. I found women with similar bodies, or similar hair, but not anything as close as I wanted. Yet on a few, even the smallest thing that reminded me of Andie got me aroused. It might be just a woman with the same bright silver blue eyes. Or a similar facial expression. Or the same shape of ass. I found myself focusing on these little things, sometimes not even the entire scene, just a part of the woman, imagining it was Andie.

  Which of course made me wonder again about what she had done today. At home. Alone. Or maybe not alone.

  I put aside the laptop and grabbed my phone to call home.

  “Hey,” I said, when she picked up.

  “Hey yourself. What are you doing?”

  “I’m actually lying here in bed, thinking of you.” I didn’t mention that I’d been surfing porn. “I got so worked up I had to call you.”

  “What a coincidence. I’m lying in bed too, and I’m really worked up as well.”

  I waited, hoping she’d say more, that she was worked up thinking of me, but she didn’t add anything. All I could hear was her breathing.

  “Andie? Are you there?”

  “Sorry. I’m trying to catch my breath.”

  Why was she out of breath? Was someone there? Had she just. . .

  As if reading my mind she said, “I just had an orgasm.”

  My cock jumped. Andie and I have never talked about sex on the phone. “Are you alone?”

  “What? Of course. . .you didn’t think that I’d really have someone here? Did you?”

  “No, no,” I said hastily. “Just, you know, playing around.” But of course it had occurred to me, not that she’d really do it, but it’s what I was thinking about, what she had said the night before, her getting fucked in our bed.

  “Oh, okay. For a minute there I thought you were serious.”

  “So you missed me so much you had to masturbate?” I said, trying to redirect the subject.

  “Well. . .I was just worked up after I came home.”

  Again she didn’t say she was thinking about me. “Did you just get in?” It was kind of late.

  “No, I’ve actually been back for a while.”

  “So you must not have. . .had any luck today, if you’re just getting worked up now.”

  “Well, actually. . .”

  “What?”

  “The outfit worked pretty well. Maybe a little too well.”

  My fingers tightened on the phone. “What happened?”

  “This morning—remember I told you that I had been just teasing you this morning, all that stuff I had said about going out and looking for men. I knew you had been pretending to be asleep, so I did the whole dress up thing just to turn you on. It was fun. We’ve really never done anything like that, and I must admit, we should have. I know I’ve—been focused on one thing that I have missed sexually, but that’s no excuse for me not to try other things.�
��

  “Well, now we know,” I said. “And thanks for sharing that.”

  “Since we are sharing—somehow this is easier to do on the phone for some reason. This whole new interest of yours, it really threw me for a loop. But now that you’ve explained it, and I see how excited it gets you, I understand it better. And once I got past the initial shock, I have to admit, it actually turns me on.”

  “What part of it?”

  “All of it. Feeling desired. Seeing your reaction. Even the idea of flirting. Imagining just what kind of man I might be having sex with. Indulging in fantasies of things that I probably would never do in real life, ever. Fantasies of what a man might do to me, things that I wouldn’t want you to do.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it wouldn’t be you. And because maybe some things are better left as fantasies.”

  “That makes sense,” I said.

  “And sometimes—being treated like a sexual object, someone wanting me for just my body, without any of the need for love—it’s somewhat liberating. I know that sounds weird, it makes me sound like a slut. But at least in my fantasy, being a slut is exciting.” She paused. “I hope all of that doesn’t disappoint you.”

  “Why should it?” But I knew what she meant.

  “Because I’m thinking of other men. I should be thinking of you. I married you. I love you.”

  “And I love you too. And I’m glad we found something we can enjoy together, something that adds to our relationship. As long as we talk about it, and only do what the other person agrees to, then it will be okay. More than okay, it will be good.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that. Especially when I tell you what happened today.”

  She let it hang, and I couldn’t tell if she was doing it again, teasing me. “What?”

  “After you left this morning, I had that outfit on, and I thought, why waste it? So I went and had a cup of coffee at a coffee shop downtown, in the financial center. You know, the one near where all the office buildings are? I wasn’t there ten minutes when this group of men came in, all dressed up in suits, they probably worked in one of the offices upstairs. As they were waiting in line I think they noticed me, I saw them looking my way and talking to each other.”

  That didn’t surprise me, a bunch of horny guys, seeing a woman alone in the coffee shop, nudging each other, pointing her out. Maybe commenting on her. “That’s just normal,” I said, relaxing a little mentally, but physically, enthralled by the image. A bunch of powerful executives checking out my wife.

  “I know, but it was kind of fun. Did you know that when I cross my legs in that dress it kind of runs up my thighs? I did that a few times, just to see if I could get them to look.”

  “Did it work?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I’d have been staring.”

  “They were too. The people in line behind them had to push them along, they weren’t concentrating on placing their order.”

  “How did you feel about it?”

  “It was—a rush. I was safe, in a public place, and these handsome men were checking me out. I’d never done anything like that. I mean, sure, before we were married I’d be out with my girlfriends at night, looking to meet men, but today, hours before lunch, here I am, kind of pretending I’m available.”

  “I wonder if they knew you were pretending.”

  “They didn’t.”

  I gripped the phone again. “How do you know?”

  “Well, as they were leaving, one of the men went out of his way to walk by me. I smiled at him and he stopped. He looked me up and down, he wasn’t ashamed at all, checking me out right there in front of everyone. I don’t know if anyone was looking, because I was staring at him. He was so—self assured. Like he was window shopping, and knowing he could have whatever he wanted. He gave me this little nod, like I had passed his inspection, and then pulled out his card, wrote something on the back and handed it to me.”

  “His card?”

  “Yes, his business card. He’s some kind of big shot investment advisor. He was wearing this expensive suit, with a Hermes tie and wonderful shoes. He was a little older than me, very self confident. Really good looking. And I think he must spend a lot time in the gym, he had great shoulders.”

  “Maybe he thought you needed investment advice, he was looking for a client.”

  “I don’t think so. I turned the card over and it said, Call me when you are ready.”

  I shrugged. “Just some guy hitting on you, I bet he does it all the time.”

  “I’m sure,” said Andie. “He was kind of cocky, too, but he pulled it off.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “He said he liked my dress.”

  I chuckled. “That’s not much of a line.”

  “He also said there was one thing that could make it look better.”

  “What is he, some kind of women’s fashion expert?” I laughed, but was thinking of the black man at the boutique.

  “I don’t think that’s what he had in mind.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite. What did he say that would make your dress look better?”

  Andie hesitated. “He said it would look much better if it was lying on the floor.”

  “What?”

  “You know, on the floor. After I took it off. Or after he took it off.”

  “Oh.” I pictured Andie, her body shaking in anticipation as the faceless man reached for the zipper that I had pulled up that morning, unzipping her, the dress falling to her feet, Andie left in just her lacy underwear and stockings.

  “What did you say?” I asked.

  “I was a little taken aback, so I didn’t know what to say right away.”

  “You were upset because he was so lewd?”

  “Oh, no. It’s just that he was so close to me, and I looked up at him, did I mention he was very tall? And he seemed so powerful, towering over me, I had a hard time concentrating. He had the most amazing eyes. They just bored into me, I had to look away, and when I did I found myself staring right into his crotch, and it made me think. . .”

  “Think of what?”

  “I was wondering if the rest of him was as big and powerful as he was.”

  My stomach turned, hearing Andie talk about this guy. I hated him already, this rich sonofabitch that probably got whatever woman he wanted, using his money and his looks. “So you just sat there as he put his crotch in your face?”

  “What did you expect me to do?” Andie sounded genuinely interested.

  My first reaction was that she should have told him to fuck off. But I knew she had been at that coffee shop, in that outfit, mostly because of me. Cruising, looking for men. Just so we could have this very conversation.

  So I played my part. “Maybe you could have invited him home, right then. Make him prove it, that he wanted you. See if he’d take time out from his important meetings.”

  “You mean, take him here?”

  “Sure, why not,” I said breezily. “Show him if the dress really did look better on the floor.”

  There was a long silence. “The thought did cross my mind,” she whispered.

  “What?” I had only been kidding. Sort of.

  “I wouldn’t have ever thought about it, taking someone back here, but when you mentioned it this morning, I had the idea in my head.”

  I seemed to remember that she was the one who had brought up the idea of her with another guy in our bed, but I didn’t correct her. “So you thought of bringing him home? Didn’t he know you were married?”

  “I would have told him you were out of town.”

  “And then what?”

  “Well, I didn’t think about this at the time, I was too mesmerized by him, he was so good looking. But lying here in bed, later, I wondered how it might have worked out. We’d be in the bedroom, and I’d ask him for some help with my zipper. . .”

  “The way you asked me this morning.”

  “Well, yes, but this time I’d be asking for
help taking it off. Or maybe he’d just stand there, and tell me to take it off, and I’d strip for him.”

  This conversation had made my cock so hard that it hurt, and I shifted the phone to my shoulder so I could free myself. “Then you’d have sex with him?”

  “Not right away. At first we’d kiss. . .I’d be totally naked, waiting for him to tell me what to do. And he’d be touching me, maybe checking out my body, squeezing my ass and breasts, hard. To see if I was good enough for him. But he wouldn’t let me touch him, even though I wanted to.”

  I was amazed at how good Andie was at this, giving me just enough information to paint a picture, yet nothing really specific. I started stroking my cock as she talked.

  “He wants me to beg for it. I can’t control myself, I’d be so nervous, wanting to pass his approval. I’m half naked, trying to keep from doing something I shouldn’t do. He tells me to take the rest of my clothes off, and I want to. But I tell him, no, I’m a married woman.”

  “What did you imagine him saying?”

  “He just laughs. He says, ‘I can’t believe your husband let’s you go out, dressed like a slut.’”

  “That’s an odd thing to imagine him saying.”

  “Well, that part, he really did say that.”

  “What?” I was confused.

  “In the coffee shop. When he gave me his card, I told him thanks, but I was married, and that’s what he said. That he couldn’t believe my husband let me out in the morning, dressed like I was.”

  “What an asshole. You should have slapped him.”

  “I told him I wasn’t a slut, thank you very much. But he just laughed again and said that I was obviously on the prowl, he saw it all the time, married women looking to hook up.”

  “Jerk. What did you say?”

  “I said, if I’m so slutty, why did you give me your card? He leaned over and whispered in my ear, ‘Because you’re hot. And once I get through with you, you’ll never dress like that for anyone but me.’”

  I was amazed at the guy’s balls. I could never say that to some strange woman. “You’re right, he’s cocky. I didn’t think you looked slutty. And that crack about your husband, that was low.”