Shaken in her Boots, The Complete Series (Volumes 1-3): A Hotwife Adventure

by Bart Tracer

  I gave her a quick glance, then did a double take. She looked amazing. Her hair was now pulled up into pigtails that hung adorably from the sides of her round little head to drape across her shoulders. She was still wearing the same kitchen apron she’d had on all morning. The only difference was…she was now obviously naked beneath it. No lingerie has ever looked so sexy. She was a sex kitten, just begging to be fucked. As soon as she had our attention, she stuck her little tongue out, then turned briskly on her heel and skipped off toward the kitchen, her naked butt bouncing alluringly as she moved.

  Lance and I both looked at each other, our mouths hanging open in amazement. He put his drink down on the table beside the couch and stood up.

  “Sorry, Bill,” he said with a grin, “but something’s just come up and I really need to go take care of it!” He strode off in pursuit of my wife, the football game now completely forgotten.

  I laughed and called after him, “A person’s gotta work off those extra Thanksgiving calories somehow!”

  I waited a few minutes, then went to peek around the corner, leaving the television on. In the kitchen, Lance had Lizzie on her knees in front of him, working his giant cock in and out of her mouth as he held her pigtails. And she loved it. Moaning around his thick meat, she gripped his ass, pulling him in tightly as he fucked her greedy little mouth.

  Soon, her ministrations proved too much for him, and he pried her off his twitching cock, pulling her to her feet and ushering her to the dining table behind her. Spinning her around, he pushed her down onto the table, her naked ass framed exquisitely by the apron tied securely around her waist. He bent and ran his tongue across her already damp slit, then straightened and, grasping his thick cock in one hand, he lined himself up with her opening and leaned into her.

  Lizzie gasped loudly as he mounted her his huge rod forcing her lips apart, boring deeply into her. Three times, he thrust resolutely into her, before he was able to sheath the full length of his wide cock in her snug tunnel. By this time, my wife was whimpering with lust, her hips wiggling back against him, begging for more. No sooner did his balls kiss her clit than he withdrew once more, until only the thick head remained inside her. Then, he lunged forward, his entire penis disappearing into her in one sudden, forceful thrust; his full testicles crashing against her crotch.

  Again and again, he drew back, her wetness clearly visible on his heavily veined shaft, before plowing solidly into her once more. Her taut lips clung resolutely to his tool as he pulled out, then welcomed him home again as she moaned against the cool hardness of the tabletop. With heedless abandon, he plunged into my wife, causing the table to screech in protest as he pushed it across the tiled floor. Higher toward her climax she climbed until, trembling like a frightened kitten, she screamed, her gorgeous ass thrust up at him as she came

  From the doorway, I watched Lance’s masterful fucking of my wife, my dick like iron in my pants. I marveled once more at his size, turned on by how much he stretched her and especially by her reaction to it. As she came down from her climax, I wondered if she would miss his huge cock when we went back home. It seemed a certainty. How could she not? He was almost twice my size and it obviously made a difference! Was Lance turning my wife into a size queen? The thought was simultaneously disturbing and profoundly arousing.

  I was jolted out of my reverie by the sound of Lance announcing that he was about to cum. That didn’t take long, I thought to myself. But looking at her in her pigtails and apron, it was scarcely a surprise. She was sex incarnate, her luscious upturned ass thrust back at him, her long legs braced to take his thrusts. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to lose my load as well!

  Lance’s hands encircled her tiny waist as he began to slam into her, causing her round butt to jiggle obscenely. He leaned forward over her back and grunted as he began to pour his seed into her. Shaking and hunching, he groaned out his orgasm, his weighty balls pulsing insistently as he inseminated my wife on the dining room table. For a long time, he clung to her waist, slowly grinding up into her as his orgasm subsided. Sated, he released his hold, falling wetly out of her as he staggered back, out of breath.

  I stole one more look at my lovely wife, still lying bent over the table panting, then turned and slipped back apparently unseen to the living room. I heard the shower start in Lance’s room and the faint sound of their voices, chatting and laughing as they washed away the traces of their fornication. A few minutes later, I could hear Lizzie whistling happily to herself as she checked on the turkey.

  “Bill!” her voice called. “Would you help me set the table?”

  “Be right there!” I replied, switching off the TV as I got up.

  When I reached the dining room, she had the plates and glasses already in hand. “Would you mind getting the silverware?” she asked.

  Opening the drawer, I collected forks, knives, and spoons and turned to give them to her. There was an odd little smile on her face that I at first couldn’t figure out. But, when she took the silverware from my hand and turned to distribute it, I caught a glimpse of the plates on the table behind her, and almost choked. She was setting my place in the exact spot where Lance had just fucked her!

  My eyes leapt to hers and she smiled widely. “I knew it!” she exclaimed triumphantly. “I thought I saw you watching from the hallway, you little pervert! Well, just consider this your punishment!”

  It was the best Thanksgiving meal I could remember. The turkey was done to perfection, the pies delectable. Lizzie had prepared a dizzying array of side dishes. Faced with such daunting fare, we did our very best to uphold that time-honored tradition of holiday gluttony, laying waste to a mighty spread of fowl, potatoes, vegetables, bread, stuffing, and desserts, but in the end, we were forced to declare defeat and now all sat, insensate, slumped in the stupor of our voracity.

  Our after-dinner conversation was lubricated by two very expensive bottles of wine and we now sat at the table nursing our overstuffed bellies as we did our best to polish off both bottles.

  “Man, that was good,” I declared. “Best Turkey Day ever!”

  “Hear, hear!” seconded Lance. “Although I still can’t believe you both wanted breast meat. I’ve always preferred the dark meat.”

  “Well, to be fair,” Lizzie quipped, her eyebrow arching suggestively, “I’ve never really given ‘dark meat’ a try…”

  We both turned to look at her, unsure for a second if she was making the joke we thought she was. One look at her devilish grin was enough to confirm it, however, and we all burst into uproarious laughter, our aching bellies protesting our mirth.

  “Well,” Lance continued, trying to stop laughing, “Bill better keep you away from Carol Ann, then. She’s a big fan of dark meat!”

  “Really?” asked Lizzie, suddenly quite serious. “But I thought you two were dating.”

  “Oh we date, but it’s more like a ‘friends with benefits’ situation, really. We both know, we’re not getting hitched. So we both still see other people. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but she can be pretty wild and sometimes she likes some variety, if you know what I mean.”

  “Guess that explains why our situation hasn’t freaked you out!” I observed.

  “Actually, you two are kind of vanilla compared to Carol Ann. She sorta wrote the book on naughty. Not only does she like black guys, but she also likes more than one dude at the same time. Not to mention having a thing for pretty girls!”

  “Seriously?!” Lizzie and I blurted simultaneously, causing us both to glance at one another and grin. I could see the shock on her face, but there was also something else there. There was a spark of excitement in her wide eyes as she looked at me. She was enjoying this conversation.

  “Come on, you guys didn’t think you were the only ones who are into kinky shit, did you? Yeah, Carol Ann likes to eat pussy and do a black guy occasionally. And if she includes me, so much the better!”

  “So you’ve actually seen her with another woman?!” squeaked Elizabeth
, now very intrigued. “You mean…?”

  “Well, if a girl wants a threesome, she does need three people!” he joked, shrugging “Yeah, she and I have shared a girl a few times. I’ve also helped another guy spitroast her, and let me tell you, it’s smokin’ hot! One time, we spent a whole weekend in bed with a little blonde nympho that Carol Ann met at the bowling alley. It was amazing!” Noticing her interest, Lance asked Elizabeth, “What about you? Ever fool around with another girl?”

  Elizabeth shot me a nervous look, biting her lip adorably. “Once at camp, when I was 16,” she admitted hesitantly, “my bunkmate and I kissed a couple of times. And one night,” she continued, her voice just a whisper, her hands wringing nervously in front of her, “just before we all went home, she… she fingered me. I guess I’ve always been a little curious ever since then.”

  My jaw hit the floor. Elizabeth had never expressed even the slightest interest in other women. I had never imagined that she might be turned on by that sort of thing. Once again, Lance seemed to have a real talent for bringing out the naughtiness in my wife. For the briefest of instances, I pictured my redheaded little angel with her face between Carol Ann’s thighs and couldn’t quite suppress a groan. Naturally, she heard me.

  “Oh you like that, huh?” She stuck her tongue out at me. “Pervert!”

  “Ha ha! Busted!” Lance razzed me.

  Lizzie immediately turned on him, elbowing him in the side. “And you, Mister! What’s the big idea? I mean, seriously? You get me all hot and bothered, when you know damned well I’m too full of turkey and stuffing to do anything about it! Just wait! I’ll get even!” She laughed good-naturedly. “But seriously guys, between the turkey and the wine, I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open. I know it’s only eight o’clock or so, but I’m wilting fast! What do you say we clean up this mess and then go to bed?”

  Lance and I both grinned at each other.

  “To sleep, damn it! To sleep!” Lizzie exclaimed, exasperated. “Men!”

  Thirty minutes later, Elizabeth and I were sound asleep in the guestroom. Down the hall, Lance, too, had slipped into a food coma.

  Sometime after midnight, I awoke to find myself alone. Rising up on my elbows, I looked toward the bathroom, assuming that Lizzie had gotten up to pee, but the door was open and the light was off. Looking to my right, I saw that the door to the hallway also stood wide open. Maybe she went to the kitchen for a glass of water, I thought. But then, why not just get a drink in the bathroom? Puzzled, I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and stood. I had almost reached the threshold when I heard the unmistakable sound of my wife’s voice coming from the direction of Lance’s room, accompanied by a faint rhythmic thumping sound.

  A wave of jealous nausea swept over me, as I immediately understood. After sleeping off our feast, she had gone to him, to satisfy a hunger of a different kind. As I began to slowly tiptoe down the hall, I was hurt, angry, jealous…and hard as a fucking rock! She seemed to be making no effort to be quiet. The slut! Halfway to his door, I saw something pink lying on the floor and stooped to pick it up. Lizzie’s panties! Had she left them there for me to find? What was going on?

  Suddenly, I was no longer angry. I knew that she had orchestrated this whole scenario: the door left open, her loud moans, the panties in the hallway. She wasn’t trying to go behind my back; she wanted me to come find her, to “catch” her in her lover’s bed! And I had to concede, there was something deliriously sexy about the whole situation.

  I crept to the end of the hall and carefully peeked around the doorjamb. A light was on in the master bathroom, lending a soft glow to the writhing forms on the bed, heightening the eroticism of the moment. Lance lay on his back on the bed, fully nude, my wife straddling him in the shadowy gloom. Elizabeth was riding him, face turned toward the door as she worked her tight little pussy up and down his towering erection. She saw me immediately. A mischievous smirk came to her face at the sight of me peering around the door.

  She knew I was there, so hiding was pointless. I stepped into the doorway, leaning against the jamb as I watched her fuck him. As had been the case every time, I was hopelessly erect. I fished my cock out through the front of my boxer shorts and began to slowly stroke myself as I watched. She gasped out loud when she saw what I was doing. I doubted he could see me from this angle, but after everything that had happened over the past few days, I realized that the thought no longer really bothered me.

  It was too dark to make out details, and somehow that made it even sexier. She was indescribably beautiful: her fiery hair draped back over her pale shoulders; her long white legs spread wide for him; the dark furry patch where he pierced her. Her eyes held mine as she bobbed and ground herself on his outsized member, climbing toward orgasm. I raised her panties to my nose and inhaled her womanly scent. Immediately, she gave trembling moan as her eyes rolled back in her head, cumming hard.

  In that moment, I realized for the first time just how essential my participation in this was for her. Sure, she loved Lance’s big cock, but what really inflamed her was doing this in front of me, seeing me excited by her slutty deeds. I dropped to my knees, never taking my eyes off hers. Spreading her panties flat on the floor in front of me, I began to stroke myself over them, openly masturbating for her.

  “Oh God!” she shrieked as she continued to ride her lover. “Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!” Over and over, she said those two words, her head tossing from side to side as another orgasm followed on the heels of the first. Lance might be the one inside her, but it was I who was getting her off. My hand flew over my cock, the burning pressure beginning to build urgency deep in my testicles. Lizzie was going crazy, more excited than I had ever seen her. And then, I lost it, spurting my copious tribute into the soft pink fabric of her underwear as I stared unflinching into her blazing eyes.

  When I could stand again, I walked back down the hall to the guestroom, leaving Elizabeth’s sticky panties on the hardwood floor for her to find.

  Chapter 19

  Friday morning, disaster struck.

  We had just sat down for breakfast when my cellphone rang. It was our neighbor Tom, the man who was looking after our stock while we were gone. I answered, concerned that something had happened to one of our horses, only to learn that Tom had broken his leg in a freak accident yesterday.

  He had been using his old tractor to move some haybales behind his barn. When he was finished, he climbed down to remove his bale spikes and, in so doing, stepped on a loose rock, which rolled under his weight. Tom lost his balance, twisting the leg as he fell, and broke his ankle. “A damn fool thing to do”, as he put it.

  Luckily, he’d had his phone with him and was able to call 911. The orthopedic surgeon at the regional hospital in Glenton had repaired the damage in an outpatient procedure the same day. Nothing life-changing. Tom was now resting at home and was expected to make a full recovery. He was on crutches, but he assured me he could take care of himself.

  What he could not do, however, was walk. Or carry a feed bucket or run a pitchfork. And that meant he wouldn’t be able to feed our horses for us. For that matter, he was going to need someone to feed his. Damn, damn, damn! There was no way around it: we were going to have to cut our vacation short and return home.

  Lizzie watched me intently during the phone call. Hearing only one side of the conversation, she wasn’t sure what had happened, but she knew something was wrong, and her brow was furrowed with concern. She waited anxiously until I hung up.

  “Who was that?”

  “That was Tom. Apparently, he broke his ankle yesterday.”

  “Oh my God!” she gasped. “Is he alright?!”

  “Yeah, he’s fine. They operated on him and he’s at home on crutches now.”

  “The poor guy! I bet it hurts terribly! Is his daughter going to come stay with him until he heals up?”

  “Nah. He says he doesn’t really need any help in the house. Says he can get around well enough to feed and bathe himself. You know h
ow independent he is. It’s just…” I hesitated, not wanting to say it.

  “Just what, dear?” Lizzie reached across the table and took my hand.

  “He’s not going to be able to do our chores. Hell, somebody’s going to have to do his now! I’m really sorry about this,” I turned to look at Lance, “but we’re gonna have to go home.” I glanced back at my wife.

  “Now?” she asked quietly.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She nodded silently, resignedly, but there was a dejection in those wonderful blue eyes that I hated. Damn, damn, damn!

  “Sure,” replied Lance. “I understand completely. Why don’t you guys pack your stuff while I get the airplane ready? It’ll take me about an hour to fuel her and do my preflight. Then, we can take off.”

  “Thanks, man,” I smiled, shaking his hand.

  Grabbing his baseball cap from the rack on the wall, he started toward the hangar.

  For just a second, I stood, looking at the closed door. Then I turned to face Elizabeth. “Guess we’d better go get packed,” I said to her, holding out my hand as I stepped toward her.

  “Yeah…I guess we should”

  She reached for me and we walked hand in hand toward the guestroom. No words passed between us, each deep in thought. She was putting on a brave face, trying to hide her disappointment from me, but I knew. I knew, because I was also disappointed. This little adventure of ours had become addictively exciting, and neither of us wanted it to be over, especially after last night. This morning, the uncertainty of what the next three days might hold had been a potent cocktail of erotic tension. Now, that was gone. Ruined. We were packing up to leave, returning to our real lives. Our sexy, teasing, wife-watching, naughty vacation was suddenly being cut short. And we weren’t ready for that. Not yet. We still had three days, damn it!

  It was no one’s fault. Hell, Tom was hurt and needed help. If there was one thing a cowboy never did, it was leave a buddy hanging. It just wasn’t done. No sir! He needed help, and, by God, I was gonna help him! Walking with my hand in Lizzie’s, I began to run through all the chores I’d need to take care of when I got back, both at our place and Tom’s. I didn’t know just how much feed Tom had on hand, so I’d probably have to make a run to the feed store for him, and maybe get him some groceries. I had a rough idea how many cattle he had, but I’d need an exact tally if I was to count them each evening. As I made my mental list of what I’d need to do, it suddenly dawned on me…in my mind, I was saying “I”, not “we”.