The Other Man (West Coast Hotwifing) (4 page)

Read The Other Man (West Coast Hotwifing) Online

Authors: Jasmine Haynes,Jennifer Skully

Tags: #Men’s erotica, #drama, #contemporary women, #Women’s erotica, #erotic romance, #Erotica, #Contemporary romance

BOOK: The Other Man (West Coast Hotwifing)
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“Good girl.”

“I’ve never had a problem.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder.

He used it as a signal to slip his finger into her cleavage and tug on the bodice of her sundress. “Strip.”

She stepped out of her sandals. “What about you?”

He smiled wolfishly. “Baby, I’m working you over first.” He pulled the hem of her dress up.

He expected her to be shy, but she gripped the sides with both hands, yanking it over her head to send it flying across the room. Standing unself-consciously in front of him, she brought his hands to her breasts.

She left him speechless for one long moment. Her nipples were the size of half dollars, dusky and dark, tips beaded. She filled his hands. Her hips and belly were curvy, the apex of her thighs covered with trimmed black curls. With her long, flowing hair, she was a renaissance painting come to life.

“You’re beautiful.” His awe resonated in the hushed tone.

She blushed at the compliment where she hadn’t at her nakedness.

“In front of the window,” he managed to say. Grabbing the vibrator, he followed, moving up behind her.

The sun was almost down, the ocean turning inky in the impending gloom. Below them, the waves crashed on the shore, a strip of beach visible. He detected movement, walkers, runners, but with the balcony separating them from the outside, no one would see despite the bathroom light. He liked the idea of touching her with the curtains wide open, and he loved the vague outline of their reflection in the window.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he whispered at her ear, “Spread those luscious thighs.”

She steadied herself by leaning her head back on his shoulder.

He fiddled with the toy a moment. “How the hell do you turn this thing on?”

Her laugh vibrated against his chest. “You’re useless.” She twisted the base, bringing it to life.

“Yeah, you’re going to see how useless.” The banter eased the atmosphere between them, though she seemed to have lost her nerves the moment they stepped into his room.

He slid the tip between the lips of her sex. She quivered. “Ooh. Yes. That’s good.”

He tightened his arm around her waist, the vibrator slipping and sliding. “You’re wet, dirty girl. And I haven’t even touched you.”

She moaned, a delicious sound that rumbled against his chest. “I was wet down in the bar. When you made me tell you all the things my husband wanted me to do.”

“Do you always follow his instructions?”

“Yes.” She gasped, rolling her hips against him.

“Have you let a man fuck you like this, in front of the window with your vibrator between your legs?”

“No. But God, it’s so good.”

Full darkness had fallen, and their reflection undulated in the window glass. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, her breasts bobbing.

“We’re going to have a lot of firsts, baby.”

Putting her arms up, she clamped the sides of his head. “Yes. More.”

The warm, salty, sexy scent of her arousal rose to fog his mind. He danced with her in the reflection, swaying to the gentle swirl of the vibrator around her clitoris, dipping deeper, sliding back out. Her skin was soft, warm, fragrant.

“Faster. More. Yes.” She chanted words, held him tight against her with a hand at his nape.

Suddenly the reflection wasn’t enough. He wanted to see her spread out before him, needed to push deep inside her, even if it was just a toy.

Pulling back despite her protests, he picked her up, deposited her in the center of the bed, and wrapped her fingers around the vibrator.

“Don’t stop,” he ordered as he toed off his shoes, then yanked his shirt over his head.

Beyond caring, she spread her legs in a diamond, placing her feet heel to heel, and worked herself. He knew instinctively this was her position when she was alone. She pushed her head back against the mattress, and her body jerked lightly, arching into the vibrator as it entered her.

He tore at his belt buckle, the button on his slacks, the zipper, shoved everything down, including his briefs. Then he was on the bed beside her, taking over, doing the things she’d done.

The vibrator glistened with her juice. He couldn’t help bending his head to taste her. Ah God, sweet, salty, an ambrosia of flavors. He flicked her clit, sucked it, circled the nub.

She moaned deeply.

He backed off to watch, once more letting the vibrator do the work, alternately pumping it inside her, then sliding out to circle her clit.

Her hips moved in time. She panted, tossed her head, stretched her arms out to brace herself on the headboard as she bore down on the device. Her skin was like silk against his, the lips of her pussy plump and pink, her clit burgeoning.

Propped on an elbow, he reached beyond her for the cell phone, withdrawing the vibrator long enough to switch hands. She growled her need, and, once again in position, he worked her with the toy in one hand, pushed the speed dial for her husband, and put the phone to his ear.

“Honey?” The man’s voice was deep. It was three hours earlier. He was probably eating dinner.

“Do you want to hear me make your wife come?”

A sharp intake of breath, a pause, then, “Hell, yes. What are you doing to her?”

“Just what you asked. Fucking her with her vibrator.”

Zoe opened her eyes, held his gaze, fully in the moment. Then she lay back, moaned loudly. “Please fuck me, God, please.”

“Hear how she loves what I’m doing to her?”

Breathing on the other end, faster, harder. “Tell me. Describe it.”

“She’s sprawled on my bed, her legs spread wide for me.” He leaned down to smack a kiss on her inner thigh as he vibrated her hot button. “Naked. Her pretty little bush is all trimmed. Her nipples are hard. Do you want to hear her beg for what I can do to her?”

“Fuck. Yes. Do it. Fuck her hard.”

“Beg, baby,” Spence ordered. “Beg me to make you come.”

“God, please, please, please,” she sang out. Her body went into a frenzy, as if the knowledge that her husband was listening to their intimacy set her free.

She bucked. He held her down with his body, tortured her with the vibrator. “She fucking loves it. Listen to her. She’s wild. She’s coming hard.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted.

“Christ,” the husband rasped in Spence’s ear.

“Man, she’s hot for it. She needs it, wants it. Your wife is a dirty fucking slut.”

The words seemed to drive her over the edge, free-falling into climax, squirming, crying, shattering. The husband breathed hard, swore, panted. Spence could almost believe he was jerking off.

It was the most amazing thing he’d ever been a part of. And she hadn’t even touched him yet.

 

Chapter Four

 

 

“Here. Talk to your husband.”

From somewhere out of the fog, her phone wavered in a disembodied hand. She couldn’t move to even grab it.

Spence put it to her ear.

“Hell, sweetheart, that was so fucking hot.” Her heart beat twice. Then she recognized the voice. Keith. Her husband. She was in a hotel room. Spence Benedict hovered over her.

“God.” It was all she could manage before she had to breathe again. Nothing had ever been that good, not ever. It was almost frightening.

“That’s the best so far, honey. He was good. Did you like it?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t handle more than monosyllables. Her body was still quivering, her ears humming.

“I want photos,” Keith said, his voice harsh, unlike himself. “Lots of them. Fuck him good. Make him scream. Okay?”

“Sure.”

Spence moved the phone from her ear. “Now I’m going to be busy fucking your wife. So leave us alone for a while.” He punched the End button and tossed the phone to the bottom of the bed, out of her reach.

She breathed a sigh, closed her eyes, stretched her neck.

He nuzzled the bared flesh. “Did I play the good cuckolder?”

A laugh welled up inside her. “Oh yeah. He said that was the best so far.”

Suddenly he grabbed her chin. Her eyes flew open. Even in the darkness, she could see the bright gleam of jungle green in his gaze. “Was it?”

“Was it what?” There was nothing but his hand on her, his body between her legs, the humidity of the sex-filled room caressing her limbs.

“The best so far.” Each word was clipped.

He hadn’t struck her as a man who needed his ego stroked. Reaching up, she trailed a hand over his cheek, pushed her fingers into his thick, wiry red hair, and pulled his face down to hers. “The best ever,” she whispered before touching her lips to his.

He immediately seized the kiss, sucked her deep. Her mind raced, her body trembled. He was a vein of gold waiting to be mined. All night long.

Or at least until she crept back to her own room.

“What do you plan as an encore?” she said against his mouth. “He wants pictures.”

“Then you need to be down on your knees sucking my cock, you dirty little wench.”

She pulled back a moment. “How did you know he’d like it when you called me a slut?”

“A dirty fucking slut,” he enunciated. “You said he liked humiliation.”

She paused a beat, then whispered, “Yes, I want to suck you.”

Climbing off the bed in a flash, he grabbed her phone, set it on the table by the window, then threw the sliding glass door wide open.

He held out a hand to her. “Come here.” Shooting her a cocky smile, he added, “My dirty fucking slut.” Yet there was something in the term that made her feel special and desired, as crazy as that sounded.

“I think you like that word too much.” She rose slowly, taking him in. His compact body was in silhouette, his muscles defined by the moonlight. He was not a big man, but no less beautiful. She’d been in a near fugue state when he undressed, unable to fully appreciate his form. Naked, bathed in moonlight, he could have been posing for Michelangelo.

Coming to his side, she ran a hand down his taut flank. “Force me,” she whispered. She had no great need to be abused, that was more Keith’s fantasy, but she wanted to feel his power.

The breeze through the open door, though still carrying the warmth of the day, cooled her heated skin. Gaze holding hers, he wrapped her hair around his hand and pulled down, forcing her down to her knees until his cock bobbed in front of her face.

Zoe sucked in a soft breath. While he was of average height, or even slightly less, there was nothing average down here. He was long, broad, and hard, thrusting out from a thick but short bush of curly red hair a few shades lighter than that on his head. She wrapped her fingers around him, looked up. “I don’t think this exceptional tool is going to fit inside me.”

“That’s what we have lube for.”

“I might choke on it when I suck you.” Her mouth watered for a taste of him.

Shadows masked his features. The night turned him into the devil above her. “And that’s exactly what your husband wants.”

She’d done this before, met a man, gone to his room, indulged Keith’s fantasies, her own, climaxed, enjoyed. But this man had added something she couldn’t define. He’d made it about her and Keith, the way it was supposed to be, but he’d somehow made it better, too, enhanced everything, the sensations, the orgasm, made her feel completely alive in a way she hadn’t for more than three years. Gazing up at him, she wanted what he wanted, not just Keith’s desires.

“What do you need?” she asked softly.

His hand loosened in her hair, letting it fall down her back. He cupped her face. “Your mouth on me. I dreamed about you last night. I came thinking about you.”

The words were as powerful as his hands forcing her to her knees. “Then let me make love to you with my mouth.” She never used that word with one of these men. It was
fucking
,
screwing
, a variety of terms. But somehow they weren’t appropriate for this moment.

Taking him in her hand, she kissed the tip of that gorgeous cock. She opened her mouth, engulfed his crown, rimmed him with her tongue, and sucked.

His groan was deep, vibrating through him, through her. A salty bead of pre-come burst against her tongue. She worried him lightly with her teeth. When he didn’t protest, she took him deep, grazing him softly. He was big, almost too much, but she sucked hard on the way back up.

“Baby.” A tremble in his thighs accompanied the word.

Cupping his balls, she squeezed as she took him deep again.

He fisted his hand in her hair. “Fuck.”

It was reverent praise. She quickened her pace, worked his balls in the palm of one hand, stroked him with the other, three different sensations all at once.

He gasped. She felt him move. “A picture. Before I can’t hold the phone steady anymore.” He grunted with emphasis as she drew hard on his tip before sucking him to the back of her throat again. “Look at me.” There was strain in his voice.

She tipped her head back, opened her eyes, held still for a long moment, his cock in her mouth, her fingers wrapped around him. Until she heard the click of the shutter.

Then he was hers. She drove him to heaven, licked, sucked, stroked, squeezed, his flesh like silk between her lips. She reveled in his harsh sounds, the need in his groan, the scent of desire oozing from his pores, the salt of his come.

He held her head still, hips pumping with a deep foray into her mouth. She let him take her that way, curling her fingers into his thighs, her nails biting his skin. She didn’t know where the phone was, didn’t care. There was only the burst of him on her tongue, his fluid filling her mouth. She drank, swallowed, caressed him with her tongue. Until the moment his legs seemed to give out, and he slid slowly to his knees beside her.

God, it was good. Maybe too good.

 

* * * * *

 

Damn, that was good. Keith lay naked on their bed. His cock wasn’t hard—he never got completely hard—but he stroked himself, and it felt fucking good. He didn’t ejaculate, but there was sensation, and the dirtier Zoe got for him, the more intense that sensation became.

Zoe had found the perfect man. This guy was raunchy and aggressive. Keith had always loved the phone calls and pictures. Even the one video she’d made was hot despite the fact that it was so static. Whenever she called during one of her flings, he’d stroke himself to the sounds of their sex. When he was alone with his computer, he’d stroke some more looking at the pics. He had to admit that he stroked at night after Zoe had gone to bed. Oddly, he couldn’t get the same pleasure if they were in their bed. He just couldn’t make it work anymore. But he did enjoy standing outside the bedroom door in the dark listening to her use her vibrator.

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