by Jason Lenov
The Fling
A Hotwife Story
by
Jason Lenov
Copyright 2017 Jason Lenov
Thirteenth Line Publications
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, companies, organizations, products and events in this book, other than those that are clearly in the public domain, are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, companies, organizations, events, or products, is purely coincidental.
All characters depicted in this story are 18 years or older.
Cover characters are models. Image(s) is/are licensed from:
depositphotos.com
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
More by Jason Lenov
Chapter 1
The night Vanessa came home from the trade show all of the “maybe I should should have’s” of our twelve year marriage came to a head. I only realized that after she dropped the bomb. I started should-having backwards through time.
Maybe I should have gone upstairs and kissed her hello instead of staying in the basement to finish weathering the Bachmann I’d been working on since she left? Not that it would have changed anything at that point. The damage, or whatever we were going to call it, had already been done.
I heard her coming down the stairs. That gave me a twinge somewhere in the back of my head. Vanessa rarely came down into the train cave. Even if she’d been away. Still, I kept at it. That engine wasn’t going to paint itself and I was taking it to an operating session that weekend.
I’m a model railroader and train fanatic. I love trains. Love watching them. Love photographing them. Love everything about them. I have an HO scale layout in the basement and I spend every scrap of time I’m not working down there.
Maybe I should have spent less time on trains and paid more attention to my wife? That was another one. That one was probably true and probably would have made a difference.
“Richard?”
Maybe I should have turned around, smiled and kissed her when I heard her behind me? “Hmmm?” was all I could manage. That was all I could summon to greet my beautiful, caring, kind-hearted, loving wife.
A grunt.
Good one, Rick. You pretty much got what you deserved.
“Richard I want to talk to you.”
I suppressed an exasperated sigh, set my paint gun down and turned off the buzzing compressor. I made sure the engine was firmly attached to the painting cage. Adjusted a couple of tools that were out of place.
Then I turned around.
Sort of lays out what my priorities were.
Every time I looked at Vanessa, I mean really looked at her, my breath would catch in my throat. She was quite a stunning woman and sometimes I wondered why I didn’t notice that more.
It happened that night. Mostly because she was stunning. Her wavy blonde hair was loose, cascading down over her shoulders. Her blue eyes shone in the bright light of my work lamp. Her lips were a glossy pink, parted slightly and she was staring at me with a very strange expression.
And there was something else I couldn’t put my finger on. A glow about her.
“Vanessa,” I said, smiling at the good fortune of calling her my wife. “How was it?”
Her gaze seemed to deepen, her eyes wandering along my expression as if she was searching for something. The question stirred her from the intense way she was looking at me. “The show?”
“Of course,” I said, smiling more widely. Was she being silly? She could be a tease sometimes.
“It was fine.” She dismissed the whole thing with an absent wave. Still staring at me. Still watching. Studying.
“Are you alright?” I had to ask. She was acting very funny.
I think back on that moment sometimes. What was she thinking? Before I knew. Had she been meaning to tell me right then and there? Why hadn’t she? Why had she waited?
“Do you…do you want to have sex?”
The question hit me like a freight train. It was so unexpected that I laughed. A strange reaction, I know. It’s just…she didn’t say things like that. We didn’t do things like that.
My laugh brought a frown to her face.
“I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out to touch her arm.
She glanced down at the place I’d touched her skin.
“I just didn’t think…I didn’t expect that. I…are you sure everything’s alright?”
Vanessa nodded, eyeing me with an almost wild look.
“I…of course,” I said, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. “Of course I’d like to have sex,” I whispered.
Strangest thing. She barely moved.
When I pulled away she studied me some more before turning around and walking up the stairs.
I’ll admit I glanced back at the Bachmann. It was calling my name. I really wanted it done in time for the weekend operating session.
Sometimes I laugh out loud about how I had no idea how much my life was about to change.
I found Vanessa naked on the bed. This caused another twinge, another little tweak in a dark corner of my mind. What was she on about? She didn’t do this kind of thing.
I mean, we had a fairly good sex life. Once, sometimes twice a month. Thrice if we got into the wine.
This was so unlike her.
I was so stupid. How could I not even have suspected?
I felt a bit embarrassed taking my clothes off as she watched. I’d kept in reasonable shape but had grown a bit of a gut. I never liked hauling it out when she was watching.
Vanessa just stared.
When I lay down next to her I started to kiss her neck and her shoulders the way I always did.
She didn’t want it, acted like there wasn’t time. She pulled me on top of her and spread her legs. Reached under and gave my cock a squeeze then a few yanks until it was half-hard. Watching me the whole time.
I slipped into her already damp pussy and began my rut.
Vanessa watched.
Sometimes I think back on those few minutes. Being inside her and not yet knowing. Her already being on the other side of the wall, on the other side of the moment that would change our marriage and me still swimming in ignorance.
I brought her to a modest climax. Vanessa didn’t scream or claw at me when we fucked.
Having done my duty I mounted her a little higher, so her feet touched my back and I could fuck directly down into her hole. I liked the sloppy sound it made.
A few dozen thrusts and I felt the pleasant tickle of an orgasm. I came quietly. I didn’t like to put on a show. I felt the semen ooze out of the head of my cock and squeeze into her pussy.
Vanessa watched me the whole time, her expression barely changing.
When I was finished I pulled my cock out of her and rolled over to one side.
Vanessa followed me with her eyes.
Finally I had to ask.
“What is up with you? You’re acting so strangely, staring at me like that,” I whispered with a smile. “And what did you want to talk to me about? When you came down to the basement? Did you really just want some sex, you naughty girl?”
Vanessa graced me with a faint smile. Her eyes wandered off my face, staring at some point far off in the distance.
“Vanessa?”
> The sound of her name brought her back.
“Richard.”
“What is it?”
“I…” Sometimes I think of that moment, the pause between “I” and the rest of the sentence.
The last moment I knew peace.
“Richard. I’ve slept with another man.”
My world seemed to end.
Chapter 2
My vision tunnelled.
All I could do was lie there staring at her. I felt like I had fallen into a very deep place inside myself.
Vanessa, the Vanessa I had known for thirteen years was shifting like a kaleidoscope in front of me. Those words, those four words, were changing her in my eyes.
As this was happening my stomach was twisting into an ever tighter knot. My throat had dried out and was quite tight as well. So tight I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to speak again.
And Vanessa?
Vanessa.
This was the part that possibly hurt the most.
Not a single tear had formed in Vanessa’s eyes. There wasn’t a flicker of regret or remorse in her expression. There was just that stare. That cold, surgical stare.
Time stood still.
Then something shattered and it began to race around me like an ocean crashing over rocks.
“What?” Quiet as a breath.
Vanessa waited a few beats. As if she needed time to cock the gun for the next shot. “I slept with someone at the show.”
Bang.
Something about that admission released me from my paralysis. I could move again. First a finger. Then a toe. Then a leg and an arm. I could breathe again.
And suddenly I could feel.
Oh God how I felt.
“Vanessa…” I whispered her name, as if I didn’t believe the sound of it.
Still staring. And…oh God, was that a smile about to crack on her face?
“Richard…” She said my name just as quietly as I’d spoken hers.
It stung to hear it, now that I knew. I shook my head, trying to slough off what I knew I couldn’t. The truth. “Why?”
Vanessa’s eyes wandered away again, searching the wall somewhere behind me for the right answer. She didn’t find it. She shrugged.
A shrug. Was that the best explanation she could come up with for this…utter betrayal?
“That’s it? Just like that? A shrug?” The anger had begun to bubble and roil inside me. That shrug had poked the embers into a flame.
“I’m sorry.”
Jesus.
Fuck. Well, okay. Alright. She was sorry. Or, more accurately, she said she was. She wasn’t doing a very good job of playing the part. “Are you?”
Another pause. That didn’t help her case. A nod. “I am.”
“Are you sure about that?” I let the bitterness get to me and it came out on my voice.
Vanessa winced.
“I’m sorry,” I said, sounding much more sure than she did. I had never so much as raised my voice with her. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean for it to come out like that but…God, Vanessa…what have you done?”
She bit her lip and shook her head.
The whole thing seemed so absurd, suddenly. Both of us lying there naked. Why did it feel like she was wearing armour and I was so exposed?
Why was my cock so hard again? Why did I have this incredibly overwhelming feeling that I needed to sink into her hot sheath and fuck this away?
The feeling grew and twisted with the anger inside me until I couldn’t control it. When I crawled onto her my jaw was tight and I felt like an animal, mounting a mate by force.
And Vanessa didn’t seem to mind. She spread her legs again except this time there was a wilder, almost violent look in her eyes.
When I thrust my cock into her she grunted and winced but her hands drifted onto my back.
I stared at her as I started a real rut. This wasn’t sex like we’d had before. This was fucking. Hot, angry fucking.
I looked down between us to see my cock disappearing into her cunt. The thought occurred to me that not too long ago a different man had been inside her. Not too long ago she had been writhing beneath another male, clenching his hard muscle with her filthy, slutty hole.
When I looked up into her eyes betrayed her own excitement. She was staring at me, drinking in my rage and jealousy like a cocktail and fucking getting off on it.
“You fucking slut,” I muttered through clenched teeth. My face was hot. Sweat had beaded on my forehead.
Vanessa eyes went wild. She dug her claws into my back and started fucking me back. Her hips twisted and strained as I slammed into her.
Talk about surreal.
I looked down between us again, staring at my cock sawing into her.
Had he…had she let him come inside her? Had some other fucking man filled my wife’s pussy up with his cum?
Fuck.
The thought sent a confusing pulse of arousal through me.
“Say it again.”
I looked back into her wild eyes. “What?”
“Say it again,” she repeated.
I was on the precipice, my cock ready to erupt inside her.
Was she serious?
“You fucking slut.”
Vanessa’s pussy clamped down on my cock and she let out a loud shriek.
I had never seen or heard her do anything like that before. It sent me careening over the edge. Right before the full weight of that powerful climax slammed into me I had the same thought.
Not so long ago this had been her with another man.
Slam.
My cock felt like it had ruptured as it flexed and pumped hot seed into her. I roared and shook through the feeling as my balls drained filling her pussy up.
Vanessa was lost to her own orgasm, her eyes closed but her claws were still digging into my back.
The pain laced together with the pleasure to make the climax that much more potent. It trailed on forever.
Coming down off this high, though, was a thousand times worse. Maybe because the bottom was so low now. The dopamine seemed to suck back out of my brain as the blissful ignorance of my orgasm was replaced by the the hollow feeling of what Vanessa had done.
I rolled off her. This time I couldn’t look at her. I sat on the edge of the bed not sure whether I should be disgusted with myself or ashamed or both.
What the fuck?
My wife tells me she’s cheated on me and I fuck her about it?
I felt Vanessa’s hand on my back. My shoulders sagged and I slumped forward.
“Richard?”
The world felt dark and grainy like a movie from the seventies. I didn’t know if I could look at her again.
“Richard,” she whispered. “Please. Can we talk?”
The question reminded me of her coming down to the basement. Why? Why?!? Why did she come up here and have sex with me instead of telling me down there?
I managed to convince myself to turn around. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. The sex had taken some of the sharpness off my anger and her features.
But she felt powerful. She had this thing on me now.
I was the fool that had been cheated on and she was the one that had stolen all the power by doing it. “What?” I didn’t even try to take the bitterness out of my voice this time.
Maybe I should have treated her better? I thought I treated her fine! Why? Just…why?
“Can we talk about it?”
“Just tell me why?”
A sigh. Her hand slid off my back. She rolled over, tucked herself under the covers, then rolled back to look at me again.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Trying to talk. I want to talk about it.”
What? Was this what people did? This felt wrong. Wasn’t I supposed to be slamming doors and screaming? What did it mean if we got into bed naked and talked? Did that mean that I was…that I was conceding something? Didn’t that mean I was signalling that this was somehow alright, what she’d done?
“Please?” she asked quietly.
And even though I was mad, I could never say “no” to Vanessa. I wanted to give her everything she ever asked for. Even this. Even now.
Especially now.
I just wanted to know what I’d done wrong.
So I crawled under the covers with her.
She reached out, touched my hand and stared into my eyes. Not that cold, surgical stare anymore. There was warmth and curiosity in this one.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like…like you’re trying to figure me out or something.”
Vanessa shrugged. “Maybe I am.”
“Tell me,” I asked.
“What?”
“Why?”
She inhaled slowly, held it, then let the breath out. “I got a little tipsy.”
A small release into relief. Okay. That felt better. So it was probably just a mistake, just a slip-up.
“But that’s not really it,” All the tension came tightening back. “It’s not?”
Vanessa shook her head. “Richard…”
I didn’t like the sound of my name as an apology. I waited for her to go on. Another “what” would have just sounded as bitter as the first. It felt like this was about to go somewhere.
“I’ve wanted to talk about this for a long time.”
“Talk? Talk about what?”
Maybe I should have made some time to listen?
“This,” Vanessa said, wagging a finger back and forth between us. “Us.”
Oh God. The great tightening again. Was she about to ask for a divorce? “What about us?” I managed to croak out.
“I love you, Richard…” But?
“…but I have to be honest with you. I don’t love our sex life.”
That deflated me a little but in a good way. Didn’t like our sex life? Was that it? That…that could be fixed, couldn’t it? That could be…we could change that.
“I’m sorry if that hurts to hear.” Finally, Vanessa was looking contrite. But it was about this admission, that she didn’t like our sex life, and not about fucking cheating on me. What the fuck?
