John’s wife spent the weekend with Peter at a hotel in a nearby city. The drive home is interesting as she reveals how life is now that she is a real hotwife.
Find out what Tonya tells her husband John about her hotwife weekend with her friend Peter.
Part One of the Three-Part Hotwife Stories Series
When he answered the phone, she spoke in a low soft voice, “Hey.”
“He’s taking a shower.”
“So,” he said, “That’s why the low voice.”
“Just wanted to call while I have the chance. We’ve been really busy. He spoke to his wife and has to be back home earlier tomorrow, so I just wanted to be sure you can pick me up in the morning at ten.”
Glare from the Sunday morning sun cut into the windshield of the southbound I-95 drive once John had retrieved Tonya from the Holiday Inn. She was quiet during the first twenty minutes of the one-hour drive back to North Palm Beach. Her blonde hair was up in a twist except for the one strand of a bang that had fallen loose over her forehead.
John noticed and could not resist the thought that someone else had messed her hair in some passionate moment, “You have fun?” he asked.
She turned away from the scenery of orange groves and scraggly palms to face him. She swallowed and admitted, “It was great.”
Then, she added with a voice that choked with a feeling, a breath stolen by satiated shock and pleasure that did not speak of guilt, “Thank you for letting me have my sex weekend.”
Tonya had known her friend Peter, since they were kids. Over the ten years of marriage to John, she had occasional phone conversations and holiday card sharing. She spoke of him as if Peter had been close the way a brother would be supportive, and a sister would share secrets. There was a time Peter wanted to date Tonya, but she refrained explaining that he was the kind of guy girls love to friend and talk to. He was always a good listener. Time and marriage had allowed him the confidence to complain to Tonya on more than one occasion that he hated the way girls treated him. They all wanted to see him as a confidant, and he wanted to fuck. Such divides can play heavy and lead to desires that need to be satisfied. He admitted to Tonya that he had cheated with several girlfriends, but nothing had ever been serious enough to tell his wife. She in turn told John after one call that Peter had teased about an occasion when he and his wife dined with a close couple they had known for some time. Peter’s wife and his friend’s husband never noticed the way his wife had felt Peter’s cock under the table. She and Peter kept straight faces and shared a secret smile when she felt him begin to get hard.
John’s imagination began to heat up as Tonya told him Peter’s story and images of the dimly lit restaurant, noise of service people, utensils hitting plates, muffled conversations all around them increased John’s heart rate as Tonya told how the other wife stroked Peter. John could not help the thought of how a moment of illicit sex teasing in front of the other couple must have made the guy’s wife long for a time alone to devour his cock instead of dinner. Peter’s wife was close enough she could have sensed another woman’s hunger, just as Peter’s friend used her warm hands and gentle squeeze. She did this listening to her husband rant on about some useless subject, so it was easy to not be detected by her husband as they sat at the table of four. John wanted to ask Tonya if she was excited at that idea of feeling Peter’s cock if the scene had been with the four of them, but he stopped, instead asked if Peter told her how the evening ended. She said Peter joked that his friend’s husband would have a lot to handle at home with the arousal still fresh on her mind.
John thought that some code required him to be shocked of the story Tonya shared, but it just made him horny. He finally could not stand the temptation to ask, “Does that excite you?”
“No, of course not,” Tonya said, but looked away to shield any hint in her expression.
She explained to John, “That’s just the way Peter was making up for lost time and all those girls that thought of him more as a ‘girlfriend’ than a bad boy.”
“And, his wife has no idea of his straying?”
“No way. Good old boys like Peter keep secrets. What they do is fine.”
“But, not okay for their wives?”
“You have that right,” she added.
There was a great deal of envy on John’s mind, and he considered asking Tonya if she would enjoy seeing Peter; alone.
On that Sunday morning drive back home, John felt included in the secret that most wives would never tell their husband as the type of secret that would drive good old boys to fight with roles reversed. Miles disappeared along I-95 until the exit to Palm Beach Gardens as secrets of a weekend away faded in the rear view. Peter too, would be close to home miles in the opposite direction. Even that void, the full separation could not cool some thoughts of him fresh on Tonya’s mind, his smell lingered in her nostrils, his taste on her tongue. Those same thoughts attacked John’s imagination.
John left Tonya’s suitcase in the foyer and took her to the master bedroom. The buildup in his mind would explode if he failed to quench an obvious hunger shown clearly on Tonya’s reddened face. Once in the room standing at the foot of the king size bed, she pulled at his collar forcing him close and said, “I am so glad I am married to you.”
She sat on the edge pushing into the comforter letting her fingers drift down his chest to his belt buckle. Her eye’s never left his as she took the lead to unbuckle making that clicking metallic signal that something was about to happen; something wonderful that ranked as high as the first time he had seen her naked. His head buzzed with excitement speeding time past them so fast he missed the stripping off clothes to leave both bodies lying naked. In his mind he craved asking her what she had done with Peter, and what he had he done to her, but he stayed quiet knowing she would never reveal the depths of pleasure Peter had given her that he, John, her husband, may never fulfill in her. Instead, he thought of how much he loved her. The wonder of how she must have felt safe then back at home with the danger of illicit excitement far away. That divine thump of excitement of hormones flooding between two bodies could only serve one new purpose. The purpose to lock both John and Tonya in a new embrace of passion was in full play as he worshiped her body, the rise and fall of an excited chest with her two breasts becoming perfectly formed peaks of a horizon. The distant edge of a new universe. He felt his body slide down the length of the bed. In the mirror by the bed he could watch as his face navigated the valley past the dimple of her navel, he kissed the inches down to the forest edge of her neatly trimmed blonde pubic hair. The golden meadow on the shore where naked sirens call to lost sailors. John found his way home to harbor between the spread shores of smooth skin that her open thighs created.
He listened closely to Tonya’s breath. Watched her closed eyes. His mind raced to the scenes that could be playing in her mind. Eyes closed, she could be welcoming her husband or playing over and over the movie of Peter taking her. John used both hands to cup the firm cheeks of Tonya’s ass that provide pillows for her hips. His gentle slow pressure using those warm soft cheeks as handles pry her open. His investigation had begun.
Using each thumb he touched and pulled the labia back revealing her channel. Visual evidence excited him and he grew much harder with his cock rubbing against the comforter as he witnessed Tonya more dilated than he had ever seen. She was drenched wet from excitement. Her solutions glistened and her tight pussy had taken on a new dimension, “Did Peter use a rubber?”
“We were safe,” she barely managed.
John inserted his middle finger passing her clit to bury deep into her. He added two more fingers still with no resistance to the girth. His face flushed red moved closer to the moment of absolute ecstasy to kiss and flick his tongue across her clit the way she appreciated.
Thoughts flooded his mind. He must be huge. How many times could they fuck from Friday night to Sunday morning? Did she suck him? Did he go down on her the way he was doing at that moment? Only a few short hours had evaporated since she had pulled that huge cock deep in her, and now he was rewarded by living in her excitement. How he died to ask.
But, he knew he couldn’t. That would steal her secret. A secret she felt she must keep the same way Peter must keep his secrets locked away from his wife. There was a contract not verbal or written, but still just as binding that included a specific clause presented in bold font with all caps to guarantee all parties were in agreement. The clause was an exclusion provision that prohibited any expression of love. Breaking that rule only leads to misguided affairs, betrayal, countless lies and guilt. Consequences of missing that directive wrecks families and in some cases costs fortunes to be squandered. In such cases, only retrospect can illuminate the mistake. The mistake of not sharing truth.
The act of relishing his cock came with restrictions. The realization that friendship, caring, hormonal flooding all were not deeply embedded acts of love; no matter if some referred to fucking as making love. John felt at that moment of tasting his wife and peering deep into a pussy that had been stretched to an abyss was in fact a real act of love for he and his bride to harness the passion exclusive between the two of them. It was their moment, even if in fact another man had ignited the fire, the fever that spread over her, to swell her nipples, to bring forth deep red capillary swollen skin across the horizon on her chest and flushing her neck and face to near deep purple red.
John closed his eyes to focus more on the imagined image. Tonya’s mind, in sync with John, witnessed the same vision; but as a memory of Peter kneeling before her holding his cock in position to enter her. Her breath was stolen by shock at the sight of what he was about to thrust into her. That moment of tension, she knew she could not turn back; nor did she want to.
As if the voyeur watching, John could see the rocket shape of his cock of average size at the base that grew in diameter into expanded inches thicker than Tonya’s grip. She had to use both hands to manage the uncut tip with its soft fleshy cover that made the head indistinguishable from the shaft. John imagining Tonya guiding the first touch of his tip across her clit sucking drops of moisture from both just as she saw it begin to part the labia as she started to swallow the length. That is when John feared he may not fill her in this excited state that Peter had left her in. Would she feel him as much? Will he be able to compete?
John and Tonya were locked in their silent universe of hot skin and fluids; their minds speaking without words bound in the ether of thoughts. She said once more with a very heavy breath, “I am so glad I am married to you.”
As she said the words, Tonya knew she would never have the new thrill that Peter had ignited in her. A new passion. However, John could bring so much in the heat of the moment… love.