Hot Dates 3: Consequences of Being a Shared Wife

by Kirsten McCurran

  -Sorry, phone was in my purse while running errands. Yes, dance class is tonight

  -ok. I’ll try to make it home for an early dinner

  -luv u

  -love you too

  Dave knew very well Wednesday was Ava’s dance class. We ate an early dinner, and if Dave was not home from work yet, I took Mason along and hoped the tablet would keep him occupied while we sat on the side. If Dave did make it home before six, I’d leave Mason with him. He was just looking for an excuse to text me that would require an answer. Maybe it was finally time to come clean about Zach. The problem was that I knew he would want that to be an end to our break—which I guess never really happened—but I was not sure I was ready to resume full scale dating without having a serious talk first, and I didn’t know if that was going to happen. I hated having to force the issue.

  I arrived home and dropped my purse on the kitchen table before heading upstairs. I had just enough time for a shower before it was time to pick the kids up from school. I stripped out of the sweater dress in the bedroom and caught a glimpse of myself from the side in one of the full length mirrors in my walk-in closet. It looked strange to not be wearing panties when I’d just been out. The gray Calvin Klein bra, which did wonders for the girls, was missing the other half of its set, which reminded me of what a naughty tramp I was. Rather than feel guilty, I smiled.

  My side view showed off all the work I put into my body. As I’ve said, I’ve always taken care of myself, partially because I knew Dave wanted a hot wife to show around, but when I became a true hotwife, I’d redoubled my efforts. If I was going to be undressing in front of strangers, I wanted to look as good as possible.

  I unhooked the bra and threw it onto the hamper. Standing extra straight made my boobs stand out and I cupped them, feeling their weight. They spilled over from my small hands. My tits have always been big—they got huge when I was pregnant—though they’ve gotten slightly smaller since I’ve been working out so hard. No, they were not as perky as when I was twenty—they hung just a bit—but they had held up well through two kids, and my dark pink nipples were still nice and round. I ran my hands down over my smooth belly, proud that I had no mommy pooch. That had taken a ton of effort and a personal trainer. I felt the softness of the faint stretch marks there, faded by many applications of cocoa butter. But those were a badge of honor, not something I was ashamed of. If a guy could not handle that, they couldn’t handle me. And finally my fingers glanced over my smooth, shaved mound. That was something I’d started doing when I became a hotwife. It was always a little V or a landing strip before. My lips down below were still a bit red and swollen from fucking Zach in his office, and just touching them made me shiver. I could have easily gotten worked up again, but there was not time. I had to convert back into suburban mommy mode.

  three

  I walked in from work to find the house buzzing. I smelled the spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove and the garlic bread in the oven. Pasta was always Dana’s go-to meal when she had to rush out the door. I give her all the credit in the world. I run a large construction company, but I do not understand how my wife keeps on top of the logistics of keeping our household running. Between the kids’ conflicting schedules and my often working late, she has to manage things by herself a lot of the time. And on top of making sure everyone ends up where they need to be, Dana keeps the house clean and stays ahead of the laundry. I’d told her more than once that we could afford a housekeeper, but she did not want a stranger poking around our house. It made me feel guilty to think she might be sleeping with someone behind my back. I don’t know where she would find the time. Back when she was dating, I had to contribute more around the house. I was with the kids more often at the very least.

  Dana was in the kitchen, stirring the pot. She wore a loose shirt over a sports bra and her ass looked delectable in black yoga pants. Yoga pants had almost become a uniform for her, and sometimes I thought it was just because she knows how amazing she looks in them.

  “Hey, babe,” I said, hugging her from behind, and kissing her cheek.

  “You made it home. Nice. Can you watch this for a second? I need to run and grab Ava’s dance stuff from the dryer.”

  “Sure.”

  “Daddy!” Mason cried, running into the kitchen. I was surprised my return from work was enough to pull him from Thomas the Tank Engine on Netflix.

  Mason rounded the kitchen table, typically not careful at all, and knocked a chair into his mom’s big handbag, which was poised on the edge of the table. The handbag tumbled to the floor and half its contents spilled onto the floor. He froze, waiting to get reprimanded. I cursed under my breath and turned down the sauce on the stove.

  “It’s okay, buddy. It’s just an accident. We’ll just get it cleaned up,” I said, roughing his dark hair.

  “Sorry, Dad.”

  “Really, it’s okay.”

  I knelt down and began collecting the debris that filled Dana’s handbag. There was her big wallet, make-up bag, and loose pens, mints, and a little bottle of hand sanitizer. Even the tiny bottle of mouthwash didn’t give me pause—I figured it was a relic of her dating days. But then two items paralyzed me. Halfway out of her bag was a gray pair of panties, so lacy they were virtually see-through. And then I saw the little key fob and knew it was not for either of our cars. I recognized the hidden camera as soon as I saw it.

  Time stopped. The implication of those two items smacked me like a bat to the head. Even if I could reason away the hidden camera still being in Dana’s bag—maybe she’d just never taken it out—there was only one possible explanation for her panties being there. As I held those panties I felt like I was going to fall over. My brain short circuited from the conflicting thoughts: relief that I wasn’t paranoid, anger that Dana was stepping out, a dash of elation at knowing she was not done dating, and a rush of blood to my genitals as an image of Dana screwing another man popped into my head. Gradually, my son’s voice pierced through the fog and I returned to the moment. I stuffed the panties back into the handbag, but I pocketed the camera.

  I just had the handbag back up on the table when Dana came back into the kitchen. She gave me a strange look and asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Uh, yeah. I just remembered something I forgot to do before I left work.”

  “You’ve got a minute or two before dinner is ready.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

  I gave Mason a hug and retreated to my home office. My laptop came to life the moment I flipped it open. I didn’t have time to check out the contents of the camera, but I could copy them. The camera slid into a USB port and popped up as a removable drive. I created a folder on my desktop and dragged the contents of the camera into it. I noted the video files had several dates, but there was not one for today. My disappointment shamed me.

  The copy was quickly completed, I slid the camera from the computer and closed the laptop. I returned to the kitchen and as casually as I could, I dropped the camera back into Dana’s handbag while her back was turned.

  “Ready to eat?” she asked.

  ~~~

  Getting through dinner normally was an effort. Every time I looked at my wife I pictured her underneath some sweaty stranger, her legs wrapped around his waist as she begged him for more. Was she back on the dating site, or was she still seeing one of her lovers? Dana slipping off to meet Zach was likely. I felt she always had a special spot in her heart for her young lover, and he’d been persistent in pursuing her. Perhaps Dana turned on her burner phone one day to see if there were messages and she couldn’t help herself.

  Once dinner was cleaned up, I played games with Mason, while Dana and Ava were at the dance studio, but I was so distracted that even keeping track of Chutes and Ladders was a challenge. Mason thought I was just being silly when I lost my place and laughed at me. It was good he was there to lighten my mood, but my mind kept drifting back to Dana’s extracurricular activities.

  If Dana was not sleeping w
ith Zach, she was probably doing Carlos. I knew that guy was bad news. He had a strange hold on my wife. When they were together, Dana did things I never thought she was capable of—she became someone else. In their last encounter, she’d become the ultimate whore. And as much as it had disturbed me, I had never been more turned on in my life. Did Carlos have my Dana out fucking his friends again? Did she come running to be his whore the second he called?

  Or Dana could have been sneaking off to have sex with someone else completely. I’d created this side of her. I’d told her I wanted her to go out and meet other men. And she’d grown to love it. So how could I expect her to just stop? When she said she needed a break, it seemed Dana just needed a break from my involvement.

  It was bedtime when Dana and Ava returned, which gave me about a half hour to myself while they all snuggled into bed. As the kids got older, bedtime became a mommy activity. They prefer the way she does voices and acts out the books at story time over my reading. No one seems to mind the arrangement very much, and the kids try not to complain when mommy is out and daddy has to handle bedtime.

  As Dana took care of the kids, I slipped into my office and opened the laptop. I plugged in a set of earbuds, but I kept one out to listen for possible interruptions. There were four video files, going back about a month. I thought about Dana’s panties in her handbag and was angry all over again that there was not a video from that afternoon. But there was one from three days earlier. I clicked on it.

  I recognized Zach’s bedroom immediately. I’d seen it in enough videos to know it by heart. Zach lived in a remodeled rowhome in the city, so the bedrooms were on the small side, and the bed was right in front of the camera. I think Dana put it on his dresser. There were windows on the far side and it was clearly daytime, but Dana had angled the camera so that the outside light did not wash out the camera’s lens. No one was in the frame, but I heard movement in the room, followed by my wife’s voice.

  “I don’t have very long,” she said. “I need to be back to get my kids.”

  Zach laughed. I knew his voice. “I still have trouble thinking of you being the nice little mommy who makes cookies and helps with the homework.”

  “Why is that?” Dana sounded amused.

  “Because I never see that side of you. I only see…this.”

  I wished I knew what he was seeing.

  “Would you like me to come over in mom jeans and a nice, loose polo?”

  “That might be kinda hot if we played it right.”

  “Pervert. I am not feeding your mommy fetish.”

  “Oh, mommy, I love the way you touch my dick,” he laughed.

  “Stop it. I mean it.”

  Zach fell back onto the bed, already nude. His long, thick cock lay up along his belly. I’d long since gotten over any insecurity that he was bigger than I am. It was actually hot to see big guys fuck Dana. She followed him onto the bed, also naked. I wished I knew what she’d worn to meet her lover. That was half the fun, but of course, this encounter had nothing to do with me, or my fantasies. Dana crawled over him, her beautiful, C-cup tits hanging down—before Zach grabbed them and kneaded them. He pulled gently on her nipples and she moaned. They kissed. It was a long, deep, passionate kiss, the kind that made the pit of my stomach burn every time I saw it. Seeing my wife kiss another man like that was so disturbing, and such a powerful aphrodisiac. My prick strained in my pants.

  Dana slowly stroked his cock while they kissed, and he continued playing with her tits, making her shake and moan while they kissed. Her tongue flicked out when the kiss ended and she shimmied back down so she was laying on her stomach between his legs and his tall shaft was right in her face. She had that hungry look in her eyes and I knew what was coming.

  I skipped ahead in the video. It was not that I didn’t want to see it all, but my time was limited and I wanted to at least peek at all of the videos. Zach was holding her head and slowly pumping his cock into and out of my wife’s eager mouth. Her cheeks hollowed from sucking him and the camera picked up the wet sounds of her sucking as he pushed deeper and deeper into her mouth, Dana is a talented cocksucker, so she had little trouble taking every inch. She only struggled when he pushed to the back of her throat, but she knew how to relax and take that.

  Further in the video, Dana was on her back, with her legs over Zach’s forearms. The young stud was steadily giving it to my wife and her moans signaled that she loved every second of it. Their eyes were locked together and I could see this was not just a fuck for her. No, she looked at him like he was her boyfriend. I’d seen it before between them, and that’s why her seeing Zach always worried me, even if I did trust she would never leave me. I was not sure I could have that confidence anymore.

  I’d seen enough of that video. I jumped back to the first one in the list, from about a month earlier. Was this the first time she’d seen Zach during our break? Possibly not, as she clearly was not recording every encounter. This time she was in Zach’s living room and it was nighttime. I double checked the date and tried to recall where she told me she was that evening. I thought perhaps she said she was having dinner with Jana, but I was not sure. If she had used Jana as an alibi, did that mean Jana knew she was out with other men? I didn’t want to think about Jana being involved. I saw Dana’s sweet ass as she walked away from the camera and out of view. She was wearing a little black, leather-looking skirt and fishnet tights, with spike-heeled boots. Her top looked like a green tank top from behind, and it only just met the skirt, leaving a swath of exposed skin every time she moved. I couldn’t remember her going out dressed like that, but she may have changed after she left, like a teenage girl sneaking out to meet her friends.

  The screen remained empty, but for the couch and a wall. Zach’s living room was long and narrow, with a couch along the longer wall, which faced the stairs to the second floor. I seemed to recall a loveseat on the wall by the front windows, but it was not in view. The room was decorated much like you’d expect from a twentysomething hipster: alt-country concert posters on the wall, a beaten-up, reclaimed coffee table, a battered guitar in the corner. Zach used that guitar to get into my wife’s panties on the night they met. It was the first night Dana had slept with another man. That would have been mind-blowing enough, but she had taken Zach and his roommate that night. Dana took those two young guys like she was born for it. Maybe she was. The hungry, sexual beast might have always been inside her and I just unleashed it, instead of creating it, as I feared.

  I heard voices from another room, but could not make out the words. I fast-forwarded. After fifteen minutes or so, Dana and Zach returned to the living room and sat side-by-side on the couch. I saw her top had some kind of complicated straps in the front, and it was low-cut. Not just a simple tank top. He took a long pull on a vape pen and passed it to her. Dana sucked on it too. I knew they were getting high. Dana had developed an appetite for getting high since she’d started dating. She was becoming quite the party girl. They giggled and began to chat, and once again I fast-forwarded. I only slowed when they started making out.

  Zach eased Dana onto her back on the couch. Her skirt rode up and I saw those were not fishnet stockings, but thigh highs. My cock throbbed. I was lightly rubbing myself through my pants. God, my wife was hot. She was so sexy, so perfect. She was everything I wanted. I could not lose her. But those melancholy thoughts did not slow down my sexual need.

  A little further into the video and Dana’s skirt was around her waist, while one leg was over the back of the couch and her other foot was on the floor. Zach was on his knees beside the couch licking her pussy and she was howling.

  “Ohhh god! Yes! Yes, baby! Ohhh god, just like that!” she begged.

  I pushed further into the video and Dana ended up on her knees on the couch, gripping the back and facing the wall, while Zach fucked her from behind. Mostly I just saw him thrusting, not the best view. I closed the video. I had seen what I needed to see of it. A quick check of the other two videos showed they wer
e both shot in Zach’s house during the daytime.

  So many feelings plagued me. My indecision paralyzed me. The natural thing would be to confront Dana, of course, and see what she had to say for herself. I should find out what her sneaking around meant for our marriage. But then, part of me wanted to wait and see if she would come clean to me. Even if I already knew, wouldn’t it be better if Dana confessed of her own free will? That was assuming that she would confess, given time. I still thought I knew my wife well enough that I knew she would come to me. There were also the videos to consider. If Dana planned to keep her affair with Zach a secret forever, why was she shooting the videos? I did not believe it was just because she needed to be watched, although I knew that was part of her excitement. No, the only conclusion was that she planned to tell me and then give me the videos, perhaps as a peace offering.

  Wanting Dana to do the right thing was not the only reason I thought to delay. I had darker motivations, I realized. Seeing Dana cheat like that gave me a different, sicker, thrill than watching her when she knew she was putting on a show for me. She did not do anything different, not that I could tell, but my reaction to seeing it was more visceral. Watching Dana with other men had always been like a gut punch, but over time that sick, twisted feeling had lessened, to a degree—except for the last time, when she’d had an orgy with a group of strangers. I think the sense of danger had gradually dissipated. Dana was having fun, maybe she was losing herself, but I knew she was coming back to me. It sounds terrible, but I just got used to it without realizing it. But seeing Dana sneaking around brought all that back. Maybe I didn’t truly believe she was going to leave me, but the guttural sense of danger was back. And maybe I wanted to experience it a bit longer.