Nila's Long Con: A Hotwife Adventure

by Arnica Butler

  Of course Ryan Maddock's boat was the biggest in the marina. Okay, maybe not the biggest, but big enough that I got a nice little dose of inadequacy as I watched the two figures step onto it.

  I was nearing the end of the pier, where, fortunately, most of the boats seemed to be unoccupied, so I wouldn’t stand out, skulking around. The lights came on on Maddock's yacht, and I sat down between two tall yachts with my feet hanging over the pier, hidden from the view of the security gate and most of the marina. I had a pretty good view of Maddock’s boat, but to my dismay he had drawn the blinds all around the interior.

  The boat moved a little, but it was a huge yacht, maybe sixty feet, and so there was little motion and after a while, none. That didn’t mean that nothing was going on in there.

  I stared at the windows, and the night grew cold around me. I don’t know how long I was there – hours? I replayed the scene at the restaurant, over and over again. I wondered if Maddock had shown her around the yacht, if he had some expensive shit he had shown off to her, a bottle of pricey wine he could open.

  Or maybe he was the kind of guy who just got down to business.

  Or maybe Tennile, Tennile the professional, was the kind of woman who just got down to business. She could be in there at that moment, I thought, on her knees with Maddock’s cock in her mouth, taking him all the way into her throat and “convincing him” that he needed to find that treasure.

  I stayed out on the pier for a good long time, but it was cold and obvious that I wasn’t going to see her or anything of interest any time soon. I headed back to the hotel, a lengthy walk in the sketchy 3am atmosphere of Key West.

  Tennile didn’t come home at all that night. I didn’t get any sleep. I lay in bed, remembering all the things I had seen, embellishing the gaps, wondering how many times Ryan Maddock would fuck her. Would she let him fuck her in the ass? Was she sucking his cock right now? And what kind of cock was it? How did he fuck her?

  Again and again, my mind went to the woman my wife was turning out to be.

  Or could be, I suppose I should have thought.

  After all, this wasn’t what Tennile was going to be all the time.

  This was a game, a game to get her out of a tight place, a game to get some money.

  A temporary game, a thrill, and then she’d go back to being the woman I loved.

  I assumed.

  I hoped.

  Or maybe I didn’t care. Maybe I actually liked this Tennile.

  The hours went by, my cock was hard but I didn’t want to jerk off in the event she came back at any moment. I felt like lead on the bed, my thoughts weighing me down.

  I was just floating into a troubled doze when the blaring phone in the hotel shrieked, waking me up.

  Why do they make those phones sound like that?

  “What?” I said bitterly, sort of forgetting where I was or what I was doing, the whole evening trickling into my brain as I looked at the keys on the phone.

  “That’s not a very nice way to answer the phone.”

  It was Tennile. Her voice was sultry, a little husky (was it sticky? Was her throat sore from swallowing Ryan Maddock’s cock and now she sounded like this?) “I lost my key. I just wanted to wake you up so I wasn’t out there banging on the door.”

  I blinked. “Whu...what?”

  “Be there in like a minute.”

  I stared at the phone.

  Why hadn’t she just called my cell?

  My cell.

  I patted my pockets and fished it out.

  Dead.

  I sat up. My head was swimming.

  A light tapping at the door.

  Tennile. On the other side of the door. Coming back at… I looked at the clock… 8 am from her night on a yacht with another man.

  “How did you get here?” I said, when I opened the door. I’m not sure why I asked that question. I was surveying her appearance. Her face was free of makeup; she had cleared away her mascara and lipstick, which had probably gotten quite smeared in her activities.

  She stepped out of her shoes and gave me a strange look, like “what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I cabbed it,” she said. “Hello to you, too.”

  She pushed past me and into the room.

  I let the door close and turned, in a trance, to look at her.

  She turned around. “Well,” she said. She reached behind her and unzipped her dress. She shrugged it away, and it slid forward and then down, and her body – completely naked – was revealed inch by inch in its full glory. “Do you want to hear about it?”

  “Where are your panties?” I said. I was moving toward her.

  “I lost them,” she said.

  I put my hand on her waist and pulled her toward me. “So tell me,” I said. “Tell me what you did in the bathroom.”

  Tennile smiled. “That was unexpected, wasn’t it?” I put my fingers on her lips as she spoke. She sucked on the fingertips, her eyes on mine. “That was just a standard fuck, up against the wall.”

  Her hand was on my pants now, unfastening the button. She splayed her fingers over the shape of my cock as she did, massaging me to an even more frenzied high. She felt my cock twitch when she said “fuck,” and she smiled.

  “And what happened on his yacht?”

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get to see that,” she said. “Ryan really needed a lot of convincing.”

  My cock throbbed painfully. She pulled it out and squeezed it in her hand.

  “Did you suck his cock?” I asked. I put my fingers into her dirty, whore mouth and she answered by sucking on them. Yes.

  “And what else?” I moved my fingers down to her pussy, where I found her folds split open, hot and ripe, her own excitement and some of Maddock’s cum bursting from the center of her. “You have a pussy full of cum, but did you do anything else?”

  Tennile smiled. “He needed a lot of convincing.”

  I sucked in my breath. She was pushing my pants down over my hips, one hand on my cock, rubbing it gently. She slid down to her knees, and took them down to my ankles with her. I stepped out of them, and then she guided my cock to her lips.

  I knew then that I wanted to reclaim her, in every place that she had been touched. I wove my fingers into her hair and pulled her toward me. She opened her mouth obediently and took my cock inside of her, all the way to the back of her throat, her eyes on mine, burning into me.

  I pulled her away, because I knew it wouldn’t be long if she kept sucking my cock like that – not long enough to feel her in every stretched and filthy hole. “Get on the bed,” I said, lifting my shirt over my head.

  She climbed onto the bed on her hands and knees, her quick mind working out what I wanted, I stared at her soaked pussy, a little red, obviously visited recently, and not by me. Above the distended lips of her cunt and the hard knob of her clit that protruded from the petals of her flower, also glistening with the mingled cum of her exploits, her asshole beckoned me to explore it. It was still a tight rosebud, but someone had been there.

  My cock bounced as it flexed. While she looked behind her to watch me, I slid my fingers through the slimy, silken flesh of her pussy and drew the juices up to the crack of her ass. Her clit wobbled beneath my fingers as I played with it. I made a circle around her anus and she gave me a porn-star gasping smile.

  I entered her cunt slowly, and the loose, hot, liquid heat of it – the knowledge that Maddock’s filthy cum was in there – almost put me over the edge. I could smell the changed scent of her. I fucked her slowly, driving her wild. I could feel the need building up in her. She was so insatiable, I remember thinking. She had just fucked that guy how many times, and evidently come again and again, and here she was bucking into me like a wild horse.

  I almost came, but before I did I withdrew from her pussy and guided my cock to her ass. “Did he fuck you here, too?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “And you liked it?”

  I was already slowly pushing inside of
her as she moaned, “yes.”

  The inside of her ass was slick with cum, which could only mean one thing: that she had let him pound his seed into her ass as well. What a night Maddock had had with my wife, filling her every hole.

  “Did you swallow his load?” I said, thrusting into her sharply.

  She gasped, pleased, as my balls slapped into the wet flower of her pussy and I filled her ass with my cock. “No,” she said. “I just sucked his cock to get him ready.”

  I started to fuck her. I looked down at my dick embedded in her ass, at the raw dominance of it, and Tennile moaned with pleasure. Her ass clenched and spasmed around me. She really liked this.

  I slid through her easily, Maddock’s cum an excellent lubricant.

  I rested on my heels and pulled Tennile backward to sit on my cock. Her body was everywhere then – in my hands, around my cock, wet with sweat and cum. I palmed her breasts as she bounced lightly on my lap until I couldn’t take it anymore, and I grabbed her hips and pummeled into her, filling her with my cum.

  She kept bouncing, and guided my fingers to her clit, which I barely had to stroke for a minute to make her shudder hard and scream as she came, too. She sat on me, her body pulsing around me, the cum overflowing onto my balls and between my thighs. Her hair was plastered to her back and her shoulders, and her skin was sweet -smelling and salty to the taste. I breathed her in.

  We spent a long time entwined like that, before she rose up and my cock flopped from inside of her. We collapsed on the bed and faced each other.

  Tennile looked at me expectantly. “So,” she said. “Was that okay?”

  “It was hot,” I said. “So fucking hot.”

  She lowered her eyes and pulled herself close to me to lie on my chest. Her warm breath caressed me, and her eyelashes scraped over my skin. “I’m glad it’s done, now, though,” she said. “I mean, mostly.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that, so I pulled her close and kissed her head through her sweaty hair. “I love you, Tennile.”

  “I love you, too.”

  We lay like that for a while, and I dozed off. But after a bit, Tennile stirred.

  She yawned, and stretched. She sat up, and then she leaned back and placed her elbow on my chest.

  Her hair fell onto my skin and sent a pleasurable tickle through my body. She certainly seemed to be mine, as she moved her fingers over my chest and smiled at me.

  “I have to go meet Shane for brunch,” she said. She pronounced “brunch” like it was something ridiculous.

  “Why is it ‘brunch?’” I asked, hooking my fingers in air quotes.

  Tennile rolled her eyes. “Oh God, he’ll probably get ceviche from some taco stand without a food license and eat it with his feet hanging off the wharf while we ‘strategize.’” Tennile said, making similar air quotes for “strategize.”

  “I thought this was all legit.”

  She rolled away and stood up, a feline stretch erotically pulling her muscles into lean, beautiful lines. She trotted to the bathroom and I heard the shower turn on, splash, and quickly turn off.

  She flipped her suitcase lid open and selected a shirt. She pulled it over her head without putting on a bra.

  No bra.

  The shirt was a light-colored blue, thin material that would definitely show the contours of her body and the darker pools of her aureole. Tantalizing.

  A bit risque.

  Then she stepped into a pair of blue panties, and pulled them up over her thighs until a wedge of light-blue lace was snuggled between her buttocks and flaring like little tendrils over her cheeks. She spun and sat down to pull on the cutoffs she had worn yesterday.

  “Are you meeting Maddock today?” I said.

  “I think so,” she said, looking up at me as though it were no more than a question about the weather.

  “You should go commando,” I found myself saying.

  Tennile stopped what she was doing and stared at me.

  Then she made a funny face, said, “huh,” and slid the jeans off. She squirmed out of the panties and kicked them up at me (missing by more than a foot). They fell on the floor and she squirmed into the jeans. “I think it’s pretty locked down now,” she said. “But still. Couldn’t hurt.”

  She was standing now. Her lithe torso was solid and tanned beneath the thin blue shirt that was a little loose, floating over her taut body and occasionally catching on one of her curves just long enough to reveal the shape of it before sliding away to a t-shirt shape.

  “What time is your flight?” Tennile said.

  “Four-something.”

  She stepped closer to me, and nudged me with her knee. “Well, I might miss you, then,” she said, softly.

  I looked up at her. “Oh, yeah?” My fingers were under her shirt, making their way to all of the bare parts of her. “What will you be doing in the afternoon?”

  Tennile shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll have to play it by ear.”

  I brushed over her nipple. “But you’ll be coming home tonight,” I said, a little more sternly, a little more jealously than I would have liked.

  Tennile smiled. “’Course,” she said.

  Her voice was sunny. Somehow there was less reassurance in it than I might have wanted, though I couldn’t say why.

  But she leaned in and kissed me, and her mouth was wet and inviting. “This is almost wrapped up,” she said. “Maddock’s going to finance things, and we’ll be home free.”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  Tennile leaned back from my face. ‘What’s wrong?” she said, using that cutsie voice I hated.

  I leaned back on my hands. “I don’t know,” I said.

  Tennile placed a foot on her inner thigh and folded her arms. “You do know.”

  I shrugged. “Something about this whole thing doesn’t sit right with me.”

  Tennile raised an eyebrow. “Is it Maddock?” Her shoulders slumped a little. “You said -”

  I interrupted. “No. No… it’s… I know it should be that but it isn’t that.”

  Tennile plopped onto the adjacent bed. I wasn’t so concerned by my bad vibes that I didn’t take note of the delightful way her cutoffs opened up and gave me a tantalizing peek at her thigh, almost, almost – but not quite – up to her pussy.

  “What is it then?” she said.

  What, indeed?

  I knew, I think, deep down inside what it was at the time. It didn’t, surprisingly, have as much to do with my wife sleeping with another man. It wasn’t even that she had been an escort once.

  I liked those things.

  I shook my head, though, because I couldn’t quite articulate it.

  “It’s just a bad feeling.”

  Tennile leaned forward and placed her hands on my knees. “Don’t worry.” she said. “It’s all downhill from here.”

  My gut twisted. Whatever was wrong was somewhere in there – in Tennile’s… propensity for criminality.

  She kissed me. “I have to run.” She leaned close to my ear. “Don’t worry. We’re rich.”

  And I let her go, still with a little unease twisting inside of me.

  My flight left at four, so I left the hotel at 2:30. I sent Tennile a text message, but as expected, I didn’t get a reply until I was already home. She would be arriving at ten.

  It was all part of the plan, but I couldn’t help feel jealous as I waited for her to respond, as I wondered what she was doing while I sat in the house, listening to the clock tick away the minutes until I could go get her from the airport. Even though we had agreed on all of these things, even though we had sworn no more secrets or lies, and I believed her – I couldn’t help but feel the sting of jealousy burning cold in my chest.

  11: B ARRO

  Tennile’s flight arrived at 10 p.m., and I was there to pick her up.

  She had changed back into her gray suit, her lawyer’s costume (and I was now beginning to think of it as a costume). When she slipped into the car, her legs aligned per
fectly and off to one side, her clothes meticulous, her hair in a tidy french twist, it was possible for me to believe that the whole adventure had never happened.

  Maybe it had all been a dream, and I was actually just picking my wife up from the airport. From a business trip.

  She leaned back and let her hair down.

  “So?” I said. “How was the rest of your trip?” In a way, I wanted to keep the question open and vague, leaving the door open to my fantasy of reality for a moment longer.

  “It’s good,” she said. Her voice seemed a little strange, though. She kept her eyes on the front windshield for a moment too long before she turned to me, as though she were thinking about something very deeply.

  She smiled after she looked at me, and she sucked in her breath. “Good. Yeah. It’s all handled.”

  She reached for my neck and pulled me toward her to kiss her.

  “You seem strange,” I pointed out.

  “Huh?” she said. “No. Just tired.”

  “So everything is okay?”

  She pressed her lips together and then turned to flip the sun visor down and open the mirror. “Yeah, of course. It’s all on track. Maddock signed the contracts and he’s investing all the money.”

  I looked at her as she used her finger to perfect her lipstick.

  Something seemed off.

  “So that’s that?” I said. “And it’s all good?”

  “Mmhmm.” she said.

  “You seem strange,” I repeated. “Did anything else happen?”

  “Honey,” she said, and she turned toward me, closing the sun visor. “I’m fine. Get. Get going, or they’re going to think you’re a terrorist.” She motioned at the security officer slowly making his way toward our car.

  I pulled out into traffic, and we headed home.

  Tennile practically fell asleep in the car. She had, after all, been up all night. She put her hand on mine when we parked in the carport. “Honey, I think I just need to go to bed,” she said. Her voice was apologetic.

  “You’re sure everything is okay?” I asked.

  “I’m just tired. I promise.” She smiled wanly. She really did look tired.