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

by Bart Tracer

  As I watched them from the corner of my eye, the young couple made their way slowly down the aisle to a spot about 20 feet in front of us and sat down in the row of seats along the right-hand wall. There was a sharp intake of breath from Elizabeth. Her head turned toward me, her eyes darting quickly to mine, her lips pursed tightly. Oh, she’d seen them, all right!

  At that moment, the projector came on, the huge screen in front of us flickering to life. I took her hand and we both leaned back to enjoy the film.

  The movie actually turned out to be more entertaining than I had expected. Unlike most of the rom-coms I’d been subjected to in the past 5 years of marriage, this one actually had an interesting plot. On top of that, it was pretty racy. Very racy, in fact! Hell, it was damn near X-rated at times!

  As I was focused on a particularly spellbinding scene near the end involving an intriguing bit of acting by a topless brunette, I was vaguely aware that Lizzie was fidgeting next to me. She released my hand and squirmed awkwardly in her seat. Just as I was about to ask if she was okay, she stopped.

  When her warm little hand found mine once more, she was holding something. Instinctively, I opened my hand for her without taking my eyes off the screen, and she pressed a small, slightly damp ball of what felt like silky fabric into my palm. Curious, I brought the object to my lap and, looking down, unfolded it in the flickering glow of the auditorium.

  At first, I thought it was a handkerchief. Why would she give me a handkerchief? Then, my heart nearly stopped as I suddenly realized just what I was looking at. My wife had taken off her satin panties and handed them to me!

  If my life depended upon it, I couldn’t tell you what happened in the last quarter of the film. For that matter, I couldn’t tell you if I even saw the end. I was no longer interested. I just remember that the damned thing seemed to drag on forever.

  The little scrap of fabric I held in my hand made it wholly impossible for me to think of anything besides the fact that my wife was now pantiless beneath her short black dress. And not only was she no longer wearing underwear, she had taken it off in a crowded theater. Okay, I thought, maybe not crowded, but there were still plenty of people around! Someone could easily have seen her!

  I turned my head to look at her, but she steadfastly refused to meet my eye, staring interestedly at the big screen in front of us. I reached for her hand and, still, she didn’t look at me, but I saw the hint of a smile curl the corner of her mouth. God, what a naughty, teasing, little slut she had become!

  Not surprisingly, I had pitched a respectable tent in the front of my jeans, and I shifted my leg to make room for my growing erection. She saw me from the corner of her eye. She casually leaned in to me and whispered in my ear, “Having problems?” then returned to watching the movie. Damn, she was killing me!

  I needed to get out of here. I needed to get her home and get my dick inside her. And she knew it. God, did she know it! She was obviously horny. Maybe she’d be willing to go home early! Maybe… Shit, I thought to myself, there was no way in hell she was going to leave before the end. The fact of the matter was, she was enjoying this.

  The more I thought about it, the more I realized just how right I was. Sure, Lizzie was turned on, but that didn’t mean she’d be willing to leave now. A big part of what was turning her on was teasing me. She liked knowing how much I wanted her. And she liked making me wait for it!

  As if she were reading my mind, she casually brought my hand beneath the hem of her dress and laid her fur coat over her lap, concealing my hand. Lizzie had never been one to be frisky in public. This was new. This was Lance!

  My finger immediately found her little slit. She was wet. Wet and swollen. Grinning to myself, I surreptitiously pressed a finger into her hot little pussy, looking around nervously to make sure we weren’t being observed. Everyone else was engrossed in the movie. Besides, I reasoned, the nearest person was several feet away and it was very dark in the theater.

  Cautiously, I pumped my finger in and out of her, causing her to gasp softly and clutch at my wrist beneath the heavy coat. Hey, I realized, glancing around once more, this might actually be kind of fun! I gave her a few more strokes and was rewarded with a happy sigh from my wife.

  Turning my eyes back to the screen, I settled into a steady rhythm, nonchalantly petting and fingering my wife in the darkness. I could feel her fidgeting beneath my ministrations, her pelvis almost imperceptibly hunching against me as her excitement grew. She still held my wrist, but now, rather than trying to hold me back, she was pulling me deeper, urging me to fuck her with my finger.

  I curled my thumb up to find her clit and began making gentle circles around it as my finger continued to slide in and out of her wetness in a measured, even cadence. The effect was immediate and, though she was careful not to betray herself to the others in the auditorium, obvious to me.

  Lizzie’s mouth fell open and she moaned quietly, every muscle in her body trembling. She was close. Damn she was close. I increased the pressure on her clitoris, feeling it dart away from my touch as my thumb mashed it against her pubic bone.

  Turning her head to look at me, her blue eyes blazing in the darkened theater, Lizzie stiffened and came on my hand, grunting softly. I gently rubbed her through her orgasm as she stared into my eyes, a secret moment of illicit passion shared between husband and wife.

  When she was finished, she pulled my hand away from her crotch and leaned over to kiss my neck. “Payback is going to be hell!” she hissed playfully, nibbling at my earlobe.

  “Promises, promises!” I whispered, patting her knee and dropping her balled up panties into my shirt pocket.

  Twenty minutes later, we were in the pickup, headed for home. We both sat in silence, staring at the empty blacktop ahead through the windscreen, an unspoken sexual tension filling the cab of the pickup. The trip seemed to take forever.

  The bulge in my shirt pocket served as a constant reminder that my wife was pantiless. From the corner of my eye, I watched her long fingers absently playing with her choker; the choker Lance had given her! I forced myself to concentrate on the road, my erection pressing uncomfortably against the front of my jeans as I drove.

  When we finally got home, I nearly broke the key off in the lock trying to open the door. We tumbled inside, pawing at each other like a pair of lovesick teenagers.

  As I reached up to hang my hat on the rack, Lizzie’s hands grabbed the collar of my shirt and jerked it open, exposing my chest. I heard one of my buttons ricochet off the wall, careening into the corner of the mudroom as she stripped the ruined garment from my torso.

  Gathering her up in my arms, I elbowed the mudroom door open and strode into the kitchen. Sweeping the tablecloth onto the floor, I spun her around and bent her over the table, reaching down to fold her fur coat up over her back. My hands grasped the hem of her short dress and I jerked it savagely up over her ass, making her squeal.

  Reaching into my pocket, I fished out a condom, then tore open the buckle of my pants and pushed them roughly to my knees. Stepping up behind her as I rolled the rubber onto my shaft, I put a hand on the back of her neck and pushed my cock into her, going balls deep in one stroke. Elizabeth whimpered excitedly as I began to plunge in and out of her.

  I never even stopped to turn on the light. I simply fucked her like that, holding her down on the kitchen table there in the darkness. Urgently, quickly, solidly, savagely.

  Chapter 13

  Sunday. Sunday at last. It was the last day of our vigil. Tomorrow, we would know, one way or the other.

  The tension that had been building for the past week had now reached its peak. It was almost unbearable. Every time our eyes met, it was like a form of telepathy. She was thinking about it. I was thinking about it. And we both knew it.

  For a change, neither of us was interested in sex. For the last week, it had served as a sort of pressure valve for us, but now the stress was too great. In the end, our kinky fantasy was crushed by the sheer weight of what w
e were facing.

  “So,” Lizzie said as we finished our lunch, “what if… you know?”

  “You mean, if you’re… pregnant?” I managed.

  She nodded, “Yeah.” I could see it in her eyes. She was obviously worried. It was understandable. I was worried, too! Hell, ‘worried’ wasn’t even the right word for it!

  I reached for her hand. “Hey,” I said, “everything’ll be okay! There’s nothing we can do about it now, but one way or the other, it’ll be fine. We were talking about starting a family anyway.”

  “But… but if I’m pregnant, we both know it can’t be yours. Every time we look at the baby, it will be a constant reminder…” Her voice trailed off, her big blue eyes tearing up.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We still don’t even know if there is a baby. Let’s just wait and see what happens, all right?”

  She nodded, dabbing at her eyes and doing her best to smile. “But if there is a baby,” she said hesitantly, “what then?”

  “Then,” I said, in my most serious voice, “I guess will have no choice but to name him ‘Lance Jr.’!” I couldn’t help laughing at the shocked look that came across her face.

  “Oooh! You bastard!” Elizabeth laughed, shaking her head. “Dammit, Bill! Can’t you be serious for just one minute?! That is just not funny!” But I couldn’t help noticing that she didn’t stop laughing either.

  Sleep didn’t come easily to either of us that night. As I tried desperately to clear my mind of the dark thoughts that seemed to press in on me from all sides, Elizabeth tossed and turned next to me.

  Finally, sometime after midnight, I managed to drift off. Then, I slept fitfully until dawn, waking as the sun began to shoot the first arrows of light over the rim of the eastern horizon.

  As usual, Lizzie was already up. She had always been an early riser, so I was not surprised to find myself alone in bed. I stretched and got up, walking down the hallway toward the bathroom.

  When I got to the bathroom, the door was closed, so I made my way to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Three minutes later, Lizzie walked into the kitchen, still in her nightie.

  I looked at her, my eyebrow raised in a silent question. She shook her head ‘no’ and walked past me, getting a coffee cup out of the cabinet by the sink.

  No. She hadn’t gotten her period. Damn!

  The rest of the day was much the same. Anytime she went to the bathroom, I was on pins and needles, waiting, hoping, praying. But each time she returned, it was the same: nothing!

  I went outside and fed the horses, telling myself that I was simply being too impatient. Sometimes, she started a little later in the day. When I came back inside, my increasingly pale wife greeted me with a simple headshake. Damn! It was the same when I came back from doing Tom’s chores.

  At some point during that interminable day, I had the philosophical epiphany that the author of the phrase ‘no news is good news’ had obviously not been a man waiting to see if his wife had been impregnated by her well-hung lover.

  When bedtime finally rolled around, there had still been no ‘progress’ and I was beginning to think that Elizabeth really was pregnant with Lance’s baby.

  If I thought it was hard to sleep Sunday night, Monday night was absolutely unbearable. When I still hadn’t fallen asleep by two in the morning, I got up, put on my coat, and went out to the barn.

  Opening the door to Buster’s stall, I stepped inside, holding my hand out to him as he reached to sniff me. I moved to his shoulder, stroking his soft neck and talking to him in a low voice.

  Damn, I thought, as I watched Buster nibbling at his hay, what are we going to do now? I guess we’ll have to turn the spare bedroom into a nursery. Probably repaint it. We’ll need a baby bed and some toys, new clothes for the little guy… or girl. There were a lot of things we’d need!

  I stayed there for a half hour or so, petting Buster and brooding. Killing time, really. Then, I closed the stall door, turned off the lights, and made my way back to the house. Maybe I’d be able to sleep now. As I mounted the stairs, I was surprised to see that the kitchen light was on. I could’ve sworn that I turned it off!

  Lizzie met me in the mudroom, throwing her arms around me as I closed the door behind me. “We’re all right, Baby!” she whispered. “We’re okay!”

  “You mean…?”

  She nodded rapidly and, for the first time, I noticed that her cheeks were streaked with tears. “Mm hmm. Just now!”

  “Oh, thank God!”

  I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her tightly against my chest, and she began to cry in earnest, great heaving sobs racking her tiny body as I held her close.

  Chapter 14

  To say that we were relieved would’ve been a gross understatement. We were like condemned prisoners granted a reprieve at the eleventh hour, just when things looked hopeless. I honestly felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. Lizzie wasn’t pregnant. Thank God!

  We didn’t talk about it for several days. The stress and terror of what we had been through was still too fresh. Lizzie was back to her cheerful, carefree self, laughing and singing, not a worry in the world. I, too, slept better, knowing I wasn’t about to become a father. Or was it ‘uncle’?

  But sometimes, when I thought about it, some tiny part of me felt strangely… I don’t know… disappointed. But how could I be disappointed? Over the next few days I thought about it a lot.

  It wasn’t that I had wanted my wife to be pregnant with Lance’s baby. Not really. But the risk had been very exciting. And, though she might not admit it, I knew that Elizabeth had also been turned on by the situation, as terrifying as it had been.

  In any case, I kept these thoughts to myself. After all, they don’t really make a greeting card to tell your wife that you’re really, really glad her lover didn’t get her pregnant, while at the same time being just a wee bit disappointed?! Hell, I didn’t understand it myself! Better to say nothing.

  But, in the end, it was Lizzie who brought it up.

  Thursday morning, as we were both sitting at the breakfast table, she looked at me and said, “Well, it looks like we dodged a bullet on that one!”

  “I’ll say!” I nodded. “For a second there, I thought we were going to have to start shopping for maternity clothes!” I grinned.

  “Oh, that’s right! Laugh it up! But, we both know that you were shitting bricks, too, Mr. Smartass!”

  I held up my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! I admit it!” I said. “You had me as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs when you didn’t get your period on time.”

  “Me, too!” she conceded. She was silent for a second, chewing on her lip like she always did when she was thinking. “We have to be more careful, Bill! Seriously! You almost wound up raising another man’s child!”

  I shuddered at her mention of our close shave.

  “In fact,” she continued, “this whole week has been kind of a wake-up call for me. Maybe it’s time we give some more thought to starting a family. I’m not getting any younger, you know. And there’s no reason to wait any longer. I think we should ditch the condoms and start trying!”

  “Ditch the condoms?” I asked, raising my eyebrow. “I thought you liked the fact that that was something that was reserved for Lance. What was it you said? ‘He got that piece of you and I didn’t’.”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong! It’s hot as a perverted sex game, super hot! But I’m talking real life now! There is a difference, you know! All kidding aside, I want to have your babies, not his.

  “I’ve really enjoyed teasing you this whole time, rubbing your nose in it. The fact that Lance got to cum inside me and you didn’t was a massive turn-on. But, I think maybe it’s time for my husband to take a little piece of me back from Lance! I want you to stop using condoms and knock me up proper, Mr. Allen. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Yes,” I bowed facetiously. “Yes, Mrs. Allen, I think I can be persua
ded to do that for you!”

  That weekend, Lizzie cleaned out the drawer of my nightstand, throwing away all of the remaining condoms in preparation for starting a family. Monday evening, I had sex with my wife for the first time in my life without a condom. It was absolutely glorious!

  Bart Tracer’s Amazon author page

  Other works by Bart Tracer

  Camping Swap, Book 1

  Now that finals are over, Mike is looking forward to his upcoming camping trip with his beautiful girlfriend, Molly. As an added bonus, his best friend Jake will be joining them, along with his bubbly blonde girlfriend, Jessica. Typical, red-blooded college guys, they fully intend to make up for lost time with the two sexy coeds. What the two young hunks don’t know is that Molly and Jessica have a plan all their own. What starts out as a playful game of strip poker quickly turns into something else entirely…

  What happens when four young people find themselves alone in the woods, far from prying eyes? Will the guys find victory in strip poker defeat? And who will be sleeping in whose tent tonight?

  Camping Swap, Book 2

  Mike and his best friend Jake are having the best camping trip of their lives. True, they haven’t had much sleep, but when you’re having the hottest sex you can remember, that isn’t necessarily a bad thing! Who would ever have believed that their beautiful, innocent-looking, young girlfriends could be so uninhibited?

  After the events of the past night, the two college studs are on cloud nine and really looking forward to the next few days, but when they lose a fishing bet, they quickly realize that Molly and Jessica have fantasies and desires quite different from their own.

  Will the frolicsome foursome find a way to accommodate everyone’s needs, or will the guys find themselves struggling as they attempt to satisfy their girlfriend’s budding sexual appetites? And is it just Mike’s puerile imagination, or are the girls giving each other a lot of attention…?