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

by Bart Tracer

  Now that I thought about it, helping Tom and taking care of our chores really was just a one person job. It didn’t take two. And then I had a wicked thought: what if she stayed here with him? For the briefest of instants, an image popped into my head; the image of her riding him, but this time I was nowhere to be seen. I quickly pushed the perverted notion from my head. No. There’s no way. Lizzie would never go for it, and I didn’t want that either…did I? So far, I had always been present when Lizzie played with Lance. That was part of it. This…this was something else entirely. God, it was so crazy, so nasty! What was wrong with me? But the image returned, this time with a vengeance, and I felt myself shudder. Lizzie, still holding my hand, felt it too.

  “What’s wrong, Baby?”

  “Nothing…nothing! I was just thinking of all the things I have to take care of when I get back.” I hazarded a sidelong glance at her and saw that she was watching me, studying my face as we reached the guestroom. She could sense I wasn’t telling her everything, but said nothing, releasing my hand as she walked to the closet.

  I pulled our bags from beneath the bed, opening them and placing mine on top of the comforter, handing Lizzie hers. Turning to the chest of drawers, I tried to concentrate on packing my bag, quickly scooping my socks and underwear out of the drawer and stuffing them haphazardly into my bag. Once again, an unbidden erotic image of my wife flashed through my head. What if she stayed here with him? Just for the next three days…? As if afraid she might suddenly read my thoughts, I stole a quick look toward the closet, where she stood. I reached for my jeans from the next door and as I turned back to the bed with them, I realized Lizzie hadn’t moved. Straightening, I looked at her more closely.

  Elizabeth was standing in the door of the closet, looking at herself in the full-length mirror attached to the inside surface of the door. She was holding a chemise in front of herself, satiny and shiny, a deep purple color that contrasted gorgeously with her flame-red hair. With a little sigh, she dropped it into her bag and then took another piece of lingerie from the closet, this time a gauzy teddy, black lace with faux fur at the hem, and smoothed it tightly against her chest as she turned slightly left and right, studying the effect. It was a debauched, utterly slutty piece, see-through in all the right places, and it caused me to stiffen immediately. Never had I seen either of these two outfits before. They were for Lance… What if she stayed here with him? Just then, she caught me watching her and snatched the teddy from her body, dropping it into the bag as though it were on fire. She turned with an embarrassed smile.

  “I never got a chance to wear these,” she explained a little sadly. “I was planning on wearing that one tonight.” Her eyes strayed to the open bag on the floor of the closet before coming up to meet mine. “Oh well. Maybe another time, right?” She gave me a brave little smile and then bent to pick up a pair of sandals in the back of the closet, flashing me the tiniest glimpse of her cotton panties as she did.

  God, she looked good, and seeing her with the lingerie had my libido working overtime. Maybe that’s what did it, or maybe it was the sad, disappointed-puppy look in her big blue eyes that got me. Whatever the case, I couldn’t stop myself.

  “You don’t have to go,” I blurted suddenly, my voice unnaturally loud and squeaky, like a kid going through puberty.

  “Sweetie, Tom needs help. Of course, we have to go!”

  “No, I mean you don’t have to go.”

  She looked at me puzzled, still not understanding what I was trying to say. Crossing to her, I took a deep breath and looking into her blue eyes, I said softly, “What if…what if you stayed here with him?” There. I’d said it. Oh my God, I’d said it!

  “Bill!” she blushed furiously. “Bill! I can’t…I mean, I just can’t! You don’t really want me… to do that! I…I should go with you. Honey!”

  She looked at me pleadingly, taking my hand. I could see it in her eyes, that tiny spark of excitement that, once kindled, suddenly flared into steady burn. In spite of her protestations, I was agonizingly aware of the fact that she had not said “No”. And as I looked at her, I realized that my penis, that ever-reliable barometer of my emotions was now standing fully at attention. She wanted to stay, I wanted her to stay, and I had little doubt that there would be no objections from Lance.

  Bending, I took the teddy from her bag and, putting it back on the hanger, returned it to the closet once more. Then, I turned and kissed my wife passionately and went outside to give Lance the news.

  Chapter 20

  The flight home was smooth and fairly uneventful. Lance had, of course, been thrilled to hear that Lizzie had decided to stay on for a couple more days, but it had put a damper on our conversation in the cockpit. We talked little for the next two hours. He seemed busier this time, checking the numerous dials and lights, talking on the radio, fiddling with one switch or another through the entire trip. I couldn’t blame him. I mean, what do you say to the guy who’s loaning you his wife for the weekend? In all truth, I was thankful for the quiet, my nerves being more than a little frayed by the thought of just what would take place in my absence.

  Soon enough, though, I heard Lance announce our approach to Glenton municipal airport. The ground rose up to meet us as he pushed the 421 into a gentle descent, throttling back and leveling off at 1000 feet above ground level as we entered the pattern. After a textbook series of turns and descents, Lance chopped the throttles and touched down right on the numbers, making the midfield taxiway with only a slight application of the brakes. We taxied up to the terminal, where my pickup was waiting in the parking lot and Lance killed the big engines.

  After helping me with my bags, Lance stood talking to me for a minute, no doubt feeling a little awkward and not wanting to give me the impression that he was hurrying back to fuck my wife. I had to admit, I really liked the guy. We couldn’t have picked a better man for Lizzie to play around with.

  “Listen, Lance,” I said after a bit, offering him my hand, “I’ve gotta go check on Tom and get some things done. Thanks for the ride!”

  “Anytime! Anytime, Bill! Oh, and don’t worry about Lizzie. I’ll take good care of her for you!”

  “Oh, I have no doubt about that…!”

  “You know what I mean,” he blushed, kicking a piece of gravel on the asphalt.

  “Just bustin’ your chops, Buddy! You two have fun and I’ll see you Monday morning. Does ten o’clock sound about right?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, ten sounds good. And seriously, Bill, thanks a million! This has been the best week of my life!”

  “Don’t jinx it, Lance!” I laughed. “You still got three more days to go! Who knows? They might be just awful!”

  We both laughed until we cried over that one. If there was one thing we were all certain of, it was that Lance’s weekend was going to be anything but awful. One more handshake and I got in the truck, starting the engine and putting it into reverse. Lance waved one last time from the stairs leading into the plane. Pulling onto the main road, I reached down to change the radio station when a loud roar passed over the truck, causing me to jerk upright. Lance’s plane was right in front of me, low enough to almost see the rivets as he buzzed me, waggling the wings in a wave before he banked to the right, winging off toward the south, an ever-smaller silver streak heading back to Lizzie.

  Two hours later, I had visited Tom and fed and counted his stock. His pantry was full, so grocery shopping wouldn’t be necessary. I sat in his living room awhile, cussing and discussing with him, before finally making my way home.

  When I pulled into the driveway, the house had never looked so dark. I put my bags inside the back door, then hurried out to the barn to check on the horses. Lizzie’s mare seemed to be doing fine. She raised her head, looking at me with disinterest, then went back to her hay. Buster saw me coming as soon as I turned the corner, whickering softly in greeting. After all, it had been a week since he’d seen me. For a half hour, I lingered there in the stall with him scratching his ears and tal
king in low tones to him as he munched on the hay, cheerfully listening to my voice. Finally, I turned off the lights and closed the barn door, heading to the house.

  There was a chill to the air and my jacket was still in my luggage. I hadn’t needed it at Lance’s. Amazing how much difference five or six degrees of latitude makes. Unlocking the door, I hurried inside to find the house cold. We’d turned the thermostat down to save gas while we were away. Turning the heat on was my first order of business. That accomplished, I took my bags to the bedroom and placed them on the floor beside the bed. I’d unpack later, first I needed to eat. I made myself a sandwich and sat in the kitchen eating.

  For the first time since Lance dropped me off at the airport, I wasn’t busy. And my mind immediately turned to my wife and her lover. What were they doing right now? Were they swimming in the pool behind his big house, playing billiards in the game room, eating a nice meal on the veranda…were they fucking? Was she on her knees right now, paying homage to that giant cock that brought her so much pleasure?

  As usual, the thought of them having sex gave me an instant erection, at the same time filling me with intense jealousy. It had been that way every time, but this was worse. This was much worse. Always before, I’d been able to watch, to participate, if only vicariously. Now, she was his, in every literal sense of the word. Tonight, and for the next two nights, she would sleep in his bed, while I slept alone in ours. Waves of jealousy washed over me as I thought of them lying together so far away. My dick was so hard it throbbed in my jeans.

  I got up and went to the bedroom. I’d unpack my bags and put away all my things. That would take my mind off my adulterous wife and her well-hung Adonis. Flicking on the light, I hoisted the bags from the floor and put them side by side on the soft bedspread.

  When I unzipped the first bag, my first thought was that I had inadvertently picked up Lizzie’s bag. Right on top was a pair of my wife’s frilly panties. What the hell?! As I picked them up, a small scrap of paper fell to the floor. I squatted to retrieve it and immediately smelled Lizzie’s perfume on the paper. Unfolding it, I spread it out on the bed before me:

  Dear Husband,

  You will need these more than I will tonight. Be in bed at 9 p.m. and I’ll call and let you listen in while Lance and I get to know each other better.

  Thanks again for being such an amazing, understanding, and generous husband. I promise I’ll make it up to you just as soon as I get home!

  With love and affection,

  Your Unfaithful Wife

  P.S. There are extra panties in my drawer, should the need arise. (Don’t be shy; it turns me on when you use them!)

  Xoxoxo

  Oh God! A shiver ran down my back as I read and then reread her words. This was so deliciously decadent, sending her panties for me to jerk off into while she makes love to another man. She was rubbing my nose in her infidelity and making me like it! Dear God, how I loved that dirty little slut!

  My eyes flew to the alarm clock on the nightstand. Seven o’clock! I still had two hours before her call. Shit! It would take a monumental effort not to whack off before then!

  Chapter 21

  Two hours. 120 minutes. Never in my life has such a short period of time seemed to drag on so interminably. I was like a little kid on Christmas Eve, looking at the clock every two minutes, checking my phone for texts. Lord, would it never be nine o’clock? I cleaned up the house a little, put away my clothes, tried to read; anything to take my mind off what was going to happen at nine, but nothing helped.

  With an hour yet to go, I went into the bathroom and, taking off my clothes, turned on the shower. Stepping into the steaming spray, I let the dirt of the day wash from my body, all my muscles relaxing in the soothing heat of the clean water. All of my muscles, save one. Between my legs, angry and insistent, my erection glared at me through the steamy fog. Once more, I was hard, and once more, it was due to my wife’s infidelity.

  Like a moth drawn inexorably to a flame, my mind drifted to the image of my wife, her long pale legs spread wide as Lance rutted into her, stuffing her with his big tool. I groaned with erotic pleasure, encircling my shaft with my right hand, absently stroking myself as I reveled in the thought of them together, doubts and questions welling up inside me as my imagination ran rampant. Would she be even less inhibited without me there? What additional acts of exploratory perversion would she perform for him, now that she was free of my husbandly gaze? What was I missing?

  As clearly as if I were there watching her, my wife, my everything, alone in the arms of another man. I saw her kneeling before him, stroking and sucking his massive prick; saw her writhing under him; saw her contorted into impossible, outlandish positions as she pleasured him. They were disturbing, heart-stopping images that filled me with jealousy and longing. I ached for her desperately in that moment, wanting nothing so much as to be there with her, holding her hand, kissing her, watching her. Always watching her.

  Until that moment, I had never realized how much I enjoyed watching. Wife watching. Wasn’t that what they called it? Was that me? Was I a wife watcher at heart? Before the question had even formed, I knew it needed no answer. The events of the last week had confirmed it beyond any shadow of a doubt. I was. For all the jealousy and uncertainty, nothing had ever aroused and excited me quite like watching Elizabeth fuck. It was like live porn, but with an emotional involvement that intensified the eroticism to an almost unbearable level.

  I immediately released my cock. I was going to cum if I didn’t, and I wanted to save it for her call. Turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower and grabbed my towel, drying myself roughly as my neglected prick bobbed in front of me, unwilling to soften even slightly. A quick glance at the clock on the bathroom wall showed me that I still had half an hour to go. Damn! Was the fucking clock broken? I bound the towel securely around my waist, irritably tucking my jutting erection inside, then took my time brushing and flossing my teeth, willing the minutes to pass more quickly. When I was finished, I hung my towel back on its hook and switched off the light, not bothering to put on any clothes as I walked down the hall toward the bedroom, my insistent cock leading the way like the bowsprit of a sailboat.

  It was ten to nine when I reached the bedroom. Elizabeth’s panties lay on my pillow, where I had tossed them inadvertently while unpacking my bag. Placing my cellphone on the nightstand, I flicked on the lamp and then walked back to shut the door and turn of the overhead light. Picking up the soft panties and turning down the bed, I crawled between the sheets with eight minutes left to go and lay there, staring at my phone as the minutes slowly crawled by, each one seeming twice as long as the one before.

  When the clock in the corner of my phone’s display showed 9:00 p.m., nothing happened. At 9:01, nothing happened, nor at 9:02. I realized then, that I was holding my breath and forced myself to exhale. My heart pounded like a jackhammer, my cock throbbed in anticipation. Lord, what was going on? I was dying!

  When 9:03 rolled around, the phone rang suddenly, causing me to jump as though I’d just touched an electric fence. Seeing Lizzie’s name appear, I tapped the screen immediately, putting it on speaker. “Hello?!” I practically shouted.

  “Hi, Baby!” Elizabeth’s dulcet voice came over the phone. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “N…no, God no! Baby, what took you so long?!”

  She ignored my question. “Do you still want to listen, or would you rather I hung up and let you get some sleep?” she teased.

  “Yes!” I hissed, my dick twitching with excitement.

  “Yes, you want to get some sleep…?”

  “NO! No, I want to listen!”

  “I don’t know, Bill. I haven’t heard you say ‘please’!”

  “Oh God! Please, Lizzie! Please let me listen!” I felt myself blush as I realized what had just taken place. Here I was, begging my wife to let me listen in while she fucked another man. A shiver ran down my spine at the unmitigated naughtiness of the situation. />
  “Well”, she relented, “since you asked so nicely, maybe it would be okay for you to listen in just this once! Do you have my panties there with you?”

  “Yes”, I groaned, suddenly realizing that Lance was most likely lying next to her, listening to her torture me. I wondered if her phone was also on speakerphone. The thought filled me with dread, but my cock was as hard as a tire iron.

  “Good! Now be sure to catch all your squirties in them!” This was going too far! How in God’s name would I ever be able to look Lance in the eye again after this?! I had to stop her.

  “Lizzie…,” I started, but she cut me off, continuing with her humiliating tease.

  “Who knows? If you do a good job painting them, maybe Mommy will hang them on the refrigerator for you! What do you think, Lance?”

  “LIZZIE!!!” I nearly fainted from embarrassment, my cock leaking precum like a broken faucet.

  “Relax, Bill! He’s still in the other room! I’m just teasing you, Baby. But tell me one thing: is your dick hard?”

  “Umm… yes,” I admitted quietly.

  “I thought so, Baby. When I get home, we’ll talk all about it, but right now, I need to be fucked! Should I call him in now?”