by Lexi Archer
Contents
Copyright
What's A Hotwife?
1: First Day of Class
2: Fantasies
3: Class
4: Dinner Date
5: The Hit
6: Getting Real
7: Jealousy
8: Waiting Up
9: Clandestine
10: Office Hours
11: Underhanded
12: Furious
13: Following Orders
14: After Class
15: Finally
16: Indecent Proposal
17: The Gang's All Here
18: Watching
19: Joining In
20: New Friends
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More from Lexi Archer
Free Bonus Novel: Honeymoon Seduction
1: Newlywed Waiting Game
2: Almost Paradise
3: Premature Fun
4: Invitations
5: Decisions
6: The Club
7: Forbidden Dance
8: Bar Brawl
9: Escape
10: Arguments
11: Making Up
12: The Cold Light of Day
13: Indecent Proposal
14: Getting Ready
15: Foreplay
16: Moment of Truth
17: Aftermath
Epilogue: Back to Reality
More from Lexi
Taking the Team
Lexi Archer
Copyright 2015 Lexi Archer
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Individuals pictured on the cover are models and used for illustrative purposes only.
First digital edition electronically published by Lexi Archer, January 2016
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What's A Hotwife?
What is a hotwife? It's more of a lifestyle than a term. Put simply, it's a committed couple who has decided to let the woman stray, usually while the husband watches her straying!
The term is "hotwife," but really it's much broader than that! Married, engaged, or just dating, the only constant is a committed couple who decides to change the traditional rules of that commitment to allow for a little extracurricular fun!
There are two things that separates the hotwife from cheating or cuckolding: love and respect. The hotwife couple puts their relationship first. The excitement comes from watching the sexiest woman in the world get it on with another guy in the most intimate and personal live porn performance that's possible for two people committed to one another mind, body, and soul!
My stories are for the couples who are thinking of opening up their relationships. For the men who fantasize about their wives with other men but could never put that feeling into words. For the ladies who think it would be so hot if their fella watched them with another man. For anyone who's ever had an interest in opening their relationship for a little sharing!
These fantasies are for you. These stories are yours. I hope you enjoy them!
1: First Day of Class
"Good evening everyone, and welcome to the lab portion of Chem 111. That's chemistry for you non-science majors out there, so we’ll go pretty easy on you. Don't worry."
I paused to look out across the room. It was full of mostly fresh faced young students, though there were a couple who looked a little older. It wasn't out of the question for somebody to wait until their junior or senior year to get their science requirement out of the way, though it was rare enough that I seldom saw anyone closer to my own age.
"On the flip side, that means if you're majoring in chemistry or biology or you're thinking about going to medical school after you graduate then you're in the wrong class. You need to go talk to your advisor and get into a course where we go a little harder on you. No grade padding allowed around these here parts."
I stopped and smiled at the gathered crowd of students, but none of them smiled back. Most of them were looking down at their phones or pretending to take notes even though I hadn't said anything that was worth taking notes on yet. I sighed as I looked out at the students.
Some of the profs I'd worked with told stories about being a TA back in the days before phones were a thing. It sounded absolutely wonderful. Having a group of students beholden to you. Sure I could yell at them to put the phones away, but it's not like it would do anything.
"I'm Mrs. Taylor. Not Professor Taylor, mind. I'm just a PhD student, not a full professor or anything like that."
Not that many students ever made that mistake. Even in these intro courses full of students fresh from high school. Though at the same time if anyone wasn't going to appreciate the differences in the academic hierarchy it would be a bunch of freshmen and sophomores.
More silence. More blank stares. Damn it. I was sitting here using my best material and I wasn't getting anything at all.
Well, I guess it would be fair to say I was getting some attention, though not the kind I wanted. It was the kind of attention I'd grown used to in my time working in the department though.
Most guys were considerate enough to do their looking surreptitiously. They would glance up from their phones or their notebooks for a moment when they thought I wasn't looking, but I'd grown so practiced at catching men sneaking a peek over the years that I didn't miss a single lingering glance.
Then there were the ones who didn't bother to hide the fact that they were staring. I figured those were the ones who probably didn't have
friends in the first place. They definitely didn't seem to have the ability to pick up on things like social cues or knowing it wasn't polite to stare at your teacher’s chest the entire time she was lecturing.
I sighed. My fellow TA Matt got the same reaction from the girls in his classes. They were always mooning over him, and he always took it as flattering. Hell, he even seemed flattered by the guys who developed crushes on him. Not so with me, though. Maybe it was a gender difference, but the creepers I dealt with were more of an annoyance than anything else.
Oh well. I figured at the very least I’d have some material to entice Brian with when I got home. I never understood why it got him so worked up to hear me talk about guys staring at me during my classes, but at the same time I wasn't going to argue with results. It seemed like nothing got my husband hot faster than talking about my students catching a sneak peek. Maybe he had a thing about the whole naughty TA fantasy. Whatever it was, I knew he was going to jumping with anticipation when I got home tonight. He always was on a night when I had a lab.
Occasionally I even had a good story for him. Though I don't know how good a story a bunch of guys staring at me would make.
"But all of you can call me Megan. I've never had anyone call me Mrs. Taylor before."
More blank stares. At least from the ones who were sort of paying attention. Most were still glued to their phones. I wept for this generation.
"Right," I said. I clapped my hands together. "In that case, why don't we go ahead and get started with the first lab?”
That got my first reaction for the evening. Several of them groaned. I heard a couple of them muttering about doing work on the first day instead of just going over the syllabus.
I shook my head. "I know most of you were probably expecting an easy time of it on the first day, but unfortunately we don't have the luxury of wasting time considering how little time they give us in these labs. So if you'll go ahead and open up
your workbook, we’ll get started on the first set of reactions."
The "reactions" were pretty simple stuff. The kind of thing that you’d find in your average high school chemistry class. Not exactly a challenge, but everyone had to start somewhere. I figured I was just paying my dues, just like all of the other professors who'd come before me and done that this very same job.
It wasn't glorious, it wasn't cutting edge research, but it got me a stipend and allowed me to pay the bills while I worked my way through college. Well, it helped me to pay some bills. Granted most of them got paid by Brian and his cushy job in IT here on campus.
After going over the process I was really nothing more than a glorified babysitter. Walking from lab station to lab station making sure they didn't spell anything and get it on their clothes. Not that there was anything particularly dangerous. The "experiments" were nothing more than more expensive versions of the sort of thing usually found in museum gift shops.
Eventually the hour was up. I collected everybody's paperwork for the day. I got to look forward to the boring work of going through and making sure everybody got the correct colors in the correct order for each reaction. It really was some of the most mind numbing work that I could think of, but I suppose it could be worse. I had a couple of friends who got liberal arts degrees then went out into the real world. I'd take grading papers over slinging coffee any day of the week, thank you very much.
People filed out of the classroom and I started looking through the first batch of reports. I'd done this enough that I almost had the colors memorized.
A shadow fell across the papers. I sighed. It seemed like this happened almost every time. It was always one of the guys who stared. Well, I suppose at the very least I’d have a story for Brian rather than making something up later tonight when I got home and he took some of that pent up sexual energy that was no doubt percolating right now as he sat at home wondering what was happening.
Sometimes I made stuff up to help him to get off, but he seemed to be able to tell when I was lying and when I was telling the truth. God knows he always asked after the fact, which was kind of annoying but whatever got him off.
I looked up and fixed the guy standing there with my best impartial and uninterested teacher smile. At least I hoped that was what I was conveying. I'd practiced the look in the mirror often enough. I thought I'd gotten pretty good at it, too. Especially considering the number of times I had to use this look on guys like this.
Sure enough, it was one of the guys who'd been staring earlier. A guy who seemed to be doing his very best to create a mental topographical map of my chest region. I was used to guys staring at my tits, but this guy really turned up the creepy factor. Definitely not the kind of guy I’d ever want to invite to do sort of things my husband fantasized about seeing me do with another guy, but then again it never seemed to matter to Brian whether or not I was actually attracted to the guy. Even though that was another question he always asked after the fact.
"How can I help you?" I asked.
"Um, yeah? Ms. Taylor?"
"Please, call me Megan," I said. There was a smile on my face that I wasn't feeling.
"Right," he said. A smile came across his face as though me asking him to use my first name was inviting him into some sort of confidence rather than just asking him to call me by the same name that I asked all of my students to use. Like I said before, these guys were definitely not the type who picked up on social niceties. Of course he wouldn't be up here about to ask what he was about to ask if he was the sort of guy that could pick up on unspoken social cues.
Oh well. It was bound to happen. It happened at the beginning of every semester. Best to just get it out of the way.
"So I was wondering if maybe you didn't have anything to do after this…"
I held up a hand and he stopped. I suppose that was a good sign. Usually when they were going on like that and I held up a hand they didn't even bother to stop. They just went through the whole spiel of asking me out. It was one of the crosses I bore being the "hot TA" of the chemistry department. Something I never heard the end of from my fellow teaching assistants.
"Were you not paying attention when I did my introduction?" I asked.
"What are you talking about?"
"I said my name was Mrs. Taylor, but you can call me Megan. Emphasis on the misses part of that."
I held up my wedding band and engagement ring to drive the point home. The diamonds sparkled in the not-so-romantic fluorescent university lighting, but it got the point across. At least it would’ve gotten the point across with anyone else.
"Well yeah, but I just thought…"
"You thought what? That I was going to violate university policy and potentially break up my marriage because I thought you were so hot that I had to have you? You seriously thought that was going to happen?"
We were drawing an audience. A couple of students who'd been close to the door but turned around to watch when they heard the fireworks start. One girl snickered.
I always hated having an audience for these sorts of things, but at the same time having an audience meant I wouldn't have to worry about this from anyone else in this lab for the rest of the semester. Word got around fast.
The guy's face went from hopeful to angry. He looked me up and down and scoffed.
"Yeah? Well a girl like you should count herself lucky that I'm even interested, what with the way you're trying to pull off that sexy geeky thing and not really…"
I held up a hand again. Once more he stopped talking. Not very confident, this one.
"Are you really trying to neg me?" I asked. "Do you think this is the first time a guy has tried to pull that bullshit on me to get into my pants?"
"I…"
"If you're going to play that game that's fine. My turn. How about before you try to ask a girl like me out again you make sure she's not married or your teacher, you lose some of that baby fat that's still clinging to you. I'm guessing you weren’t exactly a sports star in high school? And by the way, that scraggly "beard" you're trying to grow isn't working. You should probably give up and put the thing out of its misery now. I can hear it crying out in suffering from all the way over here."
The guy’s mouth was wide open. There was a smattering of applause from the entrance, but I didn't look over there. No, I was more interested in his reaction as his face screwed up in pure rage and he started to turn several different shades of purple.
"You can't talk to me like that!" he screamed.
"Actually I can totally talk to you like that. This is college. You're not in daycare anymore. Mommy isn’t here to wipe your butt and tell you everything's going to be all right. Got it?"
"You bitch!"
Actually, I probably could technically get in trouble, but he'd yelled at me first. I'd found that my department chair was usually fairly understanding when somebody was yelling and screaming. Nobody had ever gotten in trouble for confronting a student who was getting too big for their britches. I had enough witnesses that I felt pretty secure in telling this guy off. Besides, his opening gambit had been a bit of sexual harassment which was never a good start if he wanted to try something with my many bosses.
"Thank you," I said with a cheery smile.
The guy blinked. "Thank you? What are you talking about?"
"Yelling at me means I can talk to my supervisor about getting you kicked out of my lab. And seeing as how all the other labs are full, well unless you can convince someone to take you on then you're not going to be able to complete this class this time around. And once word gets around you’re going to have a very hard time finding someone willing to take the trouble to squeeze you in."
"But if I don't have this class then I'm not a full-time student and I lose my scholarship!"
"Well maybe you should have thought about that before you started sexually harassing me and shooting your mouth off in front of a bunch of witnesses," I said. I glanced over to the people at the door trying to contain their la
ughter and not doing a very good job of it. "Right guys?"
"Right!" A couple of guys said. Yeah, they had my back.
I turned back to the asshole with my sweetest smile. I think we both knew there wasn't a chance he was going to be able to get into another section after his outbursts today, but that wasn't my problem. I could almost feel sorry for him, but he was the one who decided to be a raging asshole first. It wasn't my place to hold these kids’ hands. Life could be tough, and he was about to learn that the hard way.
"Fuck you!" he said, and then he turned and stormed out of the room. I gave him a little wave, more of a wiggling of my fingers, as he stormed out.
I sighed. That had been quite a confrontation for my first day, but it also gave me some material to work with. I figured I could at least thank the kid for that. Funny. He was being incorporated into my sex life even if it wasn't in the way he'd wanted when he approached me. Now that the show was over the students gathered at the door filed out, but I was sure word was going to get around. I wasn't someone to be fucked with. It was always good to set an example on the first day.
I gathered my things up and prepared to head home. Tonight was going to be one hell of a session with Brian. I knew he was probably pacing around the house in anticipation right now, and I couldn't wait to get home.
2: Fantasies
I sat on the couch destroying alien monsters from another world, but my mind was somewhere else entirely. It was the same place it always was when Megan was out teaching one of her classes. I was fixated on the idea of all those younger college guys staring at her, though I guess to be perfectly fair they weren't all that much younger than I was. It just seemed that way sometimes. Especially when she was teaching a freshman course.
Megan always had a good story to tell after the first class of the semester. I knew exactly how hot my wife was. I wouldn't be with her if she wasn't insanely hot, after all. And it seemed like just about every time she taught a class for the first time there was some guy who decided he was going to try his luck with her.
