Yes: A Hotwife Romance (5 page)

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It only made me fuck her harder, though. Each time she told me about him coming inside her it pushed me closer to the edge of my own orgasm.

I closed my eyes and let myself revel in one last fantasy.

There he was. Towering above her. A big, black stud, stuffed deep into my wife. I could see his cock moving in and out of her, drenched in her excitement. It was a slow but noisy fuck, the sound of her juices slapping around the room as he speared her full of his meat.

Then he stopped. He held her in place. His ass tightened. I could see his balls between his legs. They were tightening. I watched as Will's dark shape stood over her, his vein buried deep inside, blasting see into my wife.

"Just like that Charlie," I heard her whisper through the dream. "He fucked it into me just like that..."

"Agh!" I cried as my own hot seed shot through my shaft and sprayed her walls with cum. "Fuck!" I groaned, my torso twisting sideways, almost unable to bear the pleasure that the orgasm brought. It held me like that in a state of heavenly tension as my cock throbbed deep inside her womb.

It released me and I let out another shout, my hips driving into her again, my body searching for the last remnants of pleasure I could find inside her flesh. When it was really over, I stood over her, panting and wondering what the hell I'd done.

When I finally pulled out, she didn't move for a while. I staggered back and watched my seed spill from her slit. A trickle ran down her leg. I imagined it was his.

When she turned to look at me I met her gaze. We stared at each other for a second. Then we both burst into laughter. When it died, she got up and pulled up her pants.

"Charlie?" she asked, her voice a little hoarse and raspy.

"Yes?" I sighed, doing up my belt.

"We should talk."

A fresh shot of adrenaline coursed through me.

Chapter 8

It was late. Almost three in the morning. She had to be up at eight. She didn't seem to care. I poured us both a whisky and we settled into the sofa. We sipped. She giggled. I smiled. It was a little weird.

"Okay," she said finally, "I guess I'll go first."

"Okay," I answered, glad it didn't have to be me.

"So is this actually a thing?"

"What do you mean, actually?"

"I mean do you really want to see me with another man."

Her words made a razor of jealousy run through me, one that even whisky couldn't dull.

"I...I don't know," I replied, trying to be honest.

She chortled a bit, almost blowing whisky through her nose. "Okay. It kind of
seems
like you really do. Am I reading that right?"

An exasperated sigh escaped me before I could grab it.

"Hey," she breathed, her voice suddenly warm and gentle. "I'm just kidding."

"I know. I know. Sorry."

"It's okay," she said, rubbing my arm.

I had to raise an eyebrow. This was
really
weird. "Are you okay?" I joked, pressing a hand to her forehead. She didn't smack it away. She didn't roll her eyes. She...smiled. She smiled an almost warm, almost gentle smile. "Seriously. Are you still drunk?"

"Nope. I just want to know what this is all about," she replied.

Taking another healthy swig, I set the glass down on the table beside the couch.

"You know, I don't really know myself. I just..." I scanned backwards, trying to find the source of all this madness. Ah, yes.

That kid has amazing hands.

"You remember that night you came home really pissed off?" I asked.

She tilted her head. "You mean yesterday?"

"No."

"The day before?"

"No."

She smiled and shook her head and shook her hands and whisky splashed onto my pants.

"Fuck!" she squealed, rubbing at them with her palm, soaking them. "Oh. Fuck. I should have..."

I started to laugh. I put a hand on hers, stopping her from getting up. "Don't worry about it. The night you came home with a headache."

"Oooooohhh,
that
night!" she said, nodding to let me know she understood.

"Yeah. That night. So, we had some fun sex that night,"

"We always do!" she chimed in with a wink.

"Yes. We always do. So that night, before you fell asleep, you said something."

"I did?"

"You did." I gazed into her eyes, searching for a glimmer of recognition there. Nothing.

"What was it?"

I steeled my nerves to spell it out. "You said Will had the most amazing hands."

She furrowed her brow, scanning back through time the same way I had. Her face softened at the memory. "I did," she whispered.

"You did."

"That's what did this?"

"I don't know, I just kind of got to thinking about it and it...made me...I don't know. God, I don't know what it made me."

"Jealous?" she offered.

"Jealous, yeah. But in a really weird sort of..." I trailed off. I wasn't great with stuff like this.

"...a weird sort of hot way?"

There was not a shred of laughter or judgment or shame in the way she said it. Like she just really wanted to know.

"Exactly. In a really weird sort of hot way."

"So...you've been thinking about it a lot?" she asked.

"I mean...that night with the guys...the farm guys. You remember what happened?"

"Yes I do," she purred, scratching at my shirt.

"And then...there was this," I gestured towards the last event.

She thought, for what seemed like a long time. I watched her eyes. "So do you actually want to do it?"

"Do it?"

"I mean, do you actually want to see me with another man?"

I sighed. Then I thought about it seriously, too. Everything seemed different after an orgasm than just before. "I don't know."

She nodded. "Okay. Just thought I'd ask."

This was a mysterious woman. This did not seem like the Angie that I knew. "Okay."

"Okay," she said with some finality. "I have to go to bed."

"Okay."

She got up. The empty glass she'd put into her lap rolled onto the carpeted floor, leaving a tiny trickle of whisky in its wake.

"Fuck!" she shrieked in exaggerated exasperation.

"Don't worry about it."

She turned, smiled sheepishly, then sighed.

"Charlie, you're the fucking best."

"I love you too," I answered as she leaned in for a kiss.

I watched her ass as it swayed up the stairs. Then I sat there, wondering if I'd done things right.

Chapter 9

She'd forgotten, the night before, that it was Sunday. On Monday the restaurant was closed. It was a good thing because even though we owned two cars, we currently had none. After a slow breakfast, we packed into a cab and headed to the restaurant.

"Hey, let's go inside, I want to check receipts from last night."

"Okay," I said, figuring I could poke around in the computer and make sure nobody had cooked any books.

The place was dark and empty and quiet. It was a nice change from the way it was when I was normally there. Steam and heat and an angry tension as everyone slaved towards a second Michelin star. I plopped myself down in the office, listening to Angie humming in the kitchen.

A door opened somewhere. My ears perked up.

"Oh, shit!" I heard Will's voice bark.

"Hey Will!" came Angie's reply.

"Watchya doing here on your day off, girl?"

That got my attention. Girl? What happened to "Yes chef?"

Silence. I sat up in the chair, wondering if I just couldn't hear what she was saying.

"You know," came the answer after what seemed like too long a pause. "Just forgot it was our day off."

"Fuck, yeah!" Will snapped.

My mouth dropped open. Anger sizzled in my chest. Clearly there was something going on. Trying to ignore the throbbing pressure in my temple, I stood up as quietly as I could and tiptoed to the door.

It was already open a crack and I peered through, hoping they were in my line of sight. They were. There was Will, standing right next to her. His body language was all...wrong. The stiff posture, the hand-wringing, the cheesy grin were all gone. It was the first time I realized how much taller he was than her.

"What are you doing here?" Angie asked. My eye shifted towards her. There was something odd about her posture. Casual. Easy. None of the razor wire she normally shredded the kitchen with. What the fuck was going on?!?

"Checkin' the facebooks and whatnot. You know."

"What?" she asked, sounding confused.

"Just, you know, the online shit. You know."

Another pause.

"Will, are you fucking surfing porn on the office computer?"

He stood there, his head rolling from side to side. Then his palms went up. "Shit..." he muttered.

"Gross."

Gross. That's all she said. She didn't tear him a new ass hole, which she should have. Which the Angie I knew
would
have. She didn't hurl profanities. She just said "gross," and turned back to the cash.

An anger seized me. Who the
fuck
were these people and why were they so different from the ones I thought I knew? Was she hiding something from me? Was she...I could barely finish the thought. The bottom dropped out of my stomach. Was she sleeping with him?

Why was all the excitement gone, now that it seemed like the answer might be "yes?" Why could I only feel rage now in place of all that lust? I looked through the crack between the door and the frame again. What I saw took my breath away.

He was standing over her, her back turned to him. He leaned close. My eyes shot wide. Was he...? Was he going to fucking
kiss
her?!?

My body tensed, ready to explode through the door, ready for a fight. Something held me back.

"Hey baby doll," he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear. "It was good times the other night."

My hands were shaking. My whole body hummed with loathing. My wife was cheating on me with this man. I knew it.

"Yeah, yeah," she waved him away but I saw the smile that crept across her lips. A smile at the memory of his cock stuffed into her cheating whore cunt.

I took a breath, hoping that the crimson haze would lift long enough for me to make it through the door without attacking Will. I pushed open the door of the office and stormed out.

His whole face changed as soon as he saw me. The white's of his eyes got bigger. His mouth popped open. The look of a lover, discovered by a cuck.

"M-M-Mr. Sampson," he stammered.

I shot daggers at Angie. She seemed just as shocked. Like she hadn't remembered I was there?

I stopped in front of them and stared him straight in the eyes. "I told you not to fucking call me that, William." I turned to Angie. "Keys."

She swallowed. A hand shot into her pocket, fumbling until she pulled out the ring of keys. I grabbed it from her and without another word, tore out of there, into the parking lot and towards our car.

My hands were shaking so badly I could barely push the key into the slot. Her voice made me spin around. I tried to quell my rising rage.

"Charlie." She was standing right behind me, her arms folded across her chest. Was that smugness on her face? Was she fucking with me? Or was she just a lying bitch?

"What?!?" I snarled.

"We need to talk."

Chapter 10

"Yeah, I guess we should," I snapped. "Get in." I jerked a thumb towards the car. I'd never felt so...humiliated. So betrayed.

"No." It was a simple response. One that only amplified my anger.

"What do you mean no?!?" I roared.

"I mean you're not driving anywhere like that."

I looked down at my hands. They were still shaking. Maybe she had a point.

"What the fuck is going on Angeline?" I growled, trying to steady my nerves.

"Not what you think."

It was like someone letting all the hot air out of a balloon at once. My anger deflated. My shoulders sagged. I started to see straight again. I started to feel like a fool.

"What was that in there?" I asked, trying unsuccessfully to prop up my rage.

"Let's go back inside?"

She looked around. I followed her eyes. People were starting to stare.

"I'm not going back in there with him." I had to put my foot down somewhere.

"He's gone." She turned around and walked quickly towards the restaurant. I followed her inside.

She was waiting just inside the door, sitting at a table. She'd taken down a second chair. I sat next to her. I could barely look at her.

"Look, I shouldn't have done that," she began.

"Shouldn't have done what?" I was starting to think I was going crazy.

"I shouldn't have let him talk to me like that."

Maybe she was trying to drive me crazy. "He talks to you like that?!? When I'm not around?!?"

She took a breath. "Look, I should have told you about it a long time ago. It just never came up. Or I never brought it up. I should have."

"For fuck's sake Angie, brought what up?!?" I screamed. "What is going on?!?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, Charlie. Nothing is going on."

"What about him leaning over you and asking you about the other night?" I'd managed to work myself back up into a reasonably angry froth.

"He was just joking around. He was just being a man. Will and I hang out. We're friends. He was talking about drinks."

"Drinks?" I asked, my fury fading again.

"Drinks. He...I don't know, he pretends...oh fuck, this is going to sound stupid and come out all wrong. Just as a joke, he kind of pretends we're hooking up or whatever. I thought...I don't know, I knew you'd be watching. I thought I'd just let him do it and not tell him you were there. I thought you'd like it."

I thought you'd like it.

I felt my chest cave. It was hard to find any words to say.

"You're friends."

"
Just
friends," she reassured. "I can't have him talking to me like that in front of the staff. So whenever it's on hours, he does the whole 'yes chef' thing. To keep things professional."

Of course they were friends. They spent more time together than we did most days. I looked at her. This was Angie. My Angie. She'd never done anything that would make me think she was cheating.