Excerpt for The Hotwife Adventure - Wife Sharing Romance by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

All Right Reserved © Karly Violet 2017


All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.


Individuals on the cover are models and are used for illustrative purposes only.


Author's note: All character in this story are 18 years of age and older. This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to real live name or events are purely coincidental.


Be aware: This story is written for, and should only be enjoyed by, ADULTS. It includes explicit descriptions of intense sexual activity between consenting adults.


Note that this work of fiction resembles a fantasy world, all events taking place are a result of a role play amongst all parties and all parties are fully consenting adults.


This ebook should be purchased/borrowed by and read by adults only.






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The Hotwife Adventure


The headache I’ve had all afternoon is beginning to subside thanks to the two tablets of pain reliever I took after meeting with Mrs. Schmidt. Her husband, Roger Schmidt, has been having an affair with a much younger woman from his workplace. It’s the same sort of thing I’ve looked into hundreds of times before as a private investigator, but this case was a little different because of just who the man is. He’s not your standard asshole who works in a nice cushy office in the financial district. Roger Schmidt is, more specifically, police detective Roger J. Schmidt of the seventh precinct. As a matter of fact, he’s a lead investigator in their vice crimes division, which includes overseeing matters of prostitution and the illegal sex trade. So, for two months I’ve been investigating a senior police detective who specializes in the sort of investigative techniques I’ve employed in capturing his moments with a young police corporal by the name of Delanie Marshall.


“He should have known fucking better,” I mumble as I take my jacket off in my living room. Tossing it on the sofa, something that I know my wife will not be too happy about, I go into the kitchen to get a beer. It’s only Tuesday night, but I deserve a drink to soften my own apprehension about what I’ve done for Mrs. Schmidt. She now has the hammer she desperately needs to separate herself from her philandering husband.


“Hey, you’ve already made it home,” Priscilla says to me from around a door as I take a seat in the recliner.


“Yeah, just got back.” I try to muster a smile at my lovely young wife of five years as I sit back in my chair. “Bad day at the office, though. I had to tag a guy who I’m pretty certain will not be happy with me after he finds out.”


“Really?” My wife sits down on the sofa not too far from my recliner. Priscilla is a beautiful woman, five feet six inches tall and about one hundred thirty pounds, with light brown hair and a pair of green eyes that melt me every time I look into them. I’m a lucky man, that much is in my life is certain. Though I’m five years older than my twenty-nine-year-old wife, I feel as if she has more age and experience with the world than me. That’s probably due in part to my own sequestration to the sort of work that I do while she works from the home with an animal rescue service. She doesn’t make much money with her chosen profession, but it really doesn’t matter all that much with the money that I pull in through my private investigation business.


“Yep. You remember Detective Schmidt in the city’s police department, don’t you?”


“Oh, um, what’s his first name?” My wife waves her hands around a little and then says, “Robert, right?”


“Roger,” I correct her. “He’s screwed after what I found out this week.”


“Really?” My wife looks at me sheepishly as if she’s stumbled upon some kind of terrible truth.


“Yeah, but keep it under your hat.” I tell Priscilla things about my investigative work that I really shouldn’t, but I can’t seem to help myself at times. She’s been my partner in life for several years and has been a great sounding board for ideas and troubles in my work.


My wife fidgets in her seat for a moment as she looks down at her hands. “Andrew, I need to tell you something.”


“Okay,” I say with a smile as I put my beer on the table beside the recliner. “Shoot.” Priscilla looks at me for only a moment before looking down at her hands again, her green eyes meeting mine for only a brief instant. I can tell there’s something very wrong in the way that she avoids my gaze. Over the years, I’ve seen guilt cause such a reaction and my mind begins to tumble around with thoughts of what could have happened. I’m not prepared, though, for the truth.


“Andrew, I’m sorry.” Priscilla swallows hard and continues, “I’ve been seeing someone.”


My heart skips a beat or two as I continue to look at my young, beautiful wife. Is it possible? Could the woman of my dreams be seeing another man while I’m away on business? I shake my head. “You’re kidding, right? There’s no other guy in your life but me, Prissy. I know that you wouldn’t do that.” I chuckle nervously as I wait for her to admit to the ill-conceived prank. She wouldn’t cheat on me, I know this deep within my very soul. My wife is faithful, just as I have been faithful to her for the entirety of our marriage.


“I can’t lie to you anymore. Andrew, I’ve been sleeping around with other guys.”


“Guys?!” I grip the ends of the recliner’s arms. “What do you mean?”


My wife stands up, her full C-cup breasts bulging from beneath her thin tee shirt. She’s a magnificent woman with a full chest, full buttocks, and soft skin that mesmerized me the first time I met her. Priscilla is a good lay, offering a guy like me the sort of experience that one would come to expect from a high-class hooker. Pushing into her and fucking her from behind is the most satisfying experience of my life, and considering that someone else may be feeling that same thing causes me to wretch just a little. “I’ve been bored, Andy.”


“Bored,” I huff as I look up at her. I can see it now. Priscilla has been a little different over the past few months, her perfume a little thicker and her walk a far cry from what it was before. There’s an air of defiance in her stance as she walks over to me and kneels in the floor in front of me. “I want you to know exactly what I’ve been doing. I want you to share in my experiences with me.”


I shake my head as I sit back in my recliner. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”


“I’m not.” Priscilla’s soft hand runs along my hand and arm. “My love, I just needed a little more, that’s all. I’m not in love with any of them, but I do need something besides what you are giving me right now. This is just to help tide me over as we go through our rough patch.”


“Rough patch?” I guffaw. “We’ve been doing great.”


“No, Andy.” Priscilla’s eyes meet mine as she looks at me with some measure of pity. “You’ve been doing great, but I need someone to be with me a little more often than what you have been. I need to feel a man take me powerfully and I need to feel him come inside of me like you used to do.”


“You’ve been letting them come inside of you?” I feel my cock begin to grow inside my pants as I look into her green eyes. Something about this makes me horny as I contemplate how other guys are taking my wife while I’m away. “How the hell could I not have known?” Embarrassment begins to creep in as I consider the fact that I investigate the very sort of spousal cheating that my own wife has been caught up in. What the fuck is wrong with me that I didn’t recognize any of the obvious signs?


“I was very careful,” my wife says as she runs a finger along my arm. She grins wickedly as she adds, “My first guy was a man I met at the store about six weeks ago.”


“What?”


“He came onto me as I was picking out some chicken for dinner that evening. I thought you would be coming home, so I ignored him at first, but then I got your text message saying that you would be staying over in Chicago for the night. So, I guess I became a little more receptive at that point to his advances.”


“Receptive?” I feel my heart begin to race as Priscilla bends down and takes one of my fingers into her mouth as if it were my swollen phallus.


“We went out to the parking lot where his car was parked. He had a nice car, Andy. He sat down in the driver’s seat and I got into the passenger’s side. We kissed for a while at first and he said something that would have sent me running at one time. The man asked me to suck his dick.” I can tell by the look in my wife’s eyes that this excited her. “So, I did.”


“Oh, shit.” I take a deep breath as I think about Priscilla’s lips going over another man’s hard cock. “Was he big?”


“His penis?” I nod. “Yeah, it was a little bigger than yours. I got him all the way in, though.” My wife isn’t known for her amazing skills when deepthroating, at least not by me, because she gags easily. So, the idea of her taking the full length of a man into her mouth makes me hard and curious at the same time. I wish I could have been there to have witnessed the act.


“How did it all happen?” As a private investigator, it’s my job to ascertain as many facts as possible about a case. I’m not so different with what my wife has done, my curiosity raised to the point that I need immediate satisfaction.


“Well, I kissed it at first,” Priscilla starts, “And then I took just the head in. He pre-came a little into my mouth, and that allowed me just a small taste of him.” My wife smiles wickedly at me as she adds, “He tasted a little sweeter than you, my love. I think it has something to do with what a guy eats. You need to eat things that make your semen taste better.”


I nod a little and then ask, “Did you massage his balls?”


“Yeah, I massaged them some.” My wife works her mouth down to my fingers again and takes two of them into her mouth before sucking lightly and pulling them back out. “His balls were big and as I rubbed them he wiggled around in his seat. I think it probably got him off a little quicker than I was expecting.”


“He came in your mouth?”


“After a while he did,” Priscilla says with a smile. “I sucked on him maybe three minutes or so, and when he got ready to pop off I could feel his cock flex a little. I think it’s something that most guys do. Anyway, he began to spurt and he pulled my head to his crotch. The head of his cock stuck in the back of my throat as he shot off in me, so I just went with it. I gagged a little, but in the end, I swallowed all of his jism.”


“Holy fuck,” I moan as I think about it. “And there have been others?”


“Five others,” she admits. “Different things, though. One guy I met in a mall while shopping with some friends. I met him behind the mall after telling the girls I was going to the bathroom, and he bent me over a railing near the cardboard recycler. He fucked me in the ass until he got off and just walked away. I never got the guy’s name the whole time he pounded my ass.” My wife curls a lip as if she’s a little put out with someone not at least sharing that little piece of information.


“Why?” I ask as I continue to breathe hard. “Why fuck all these other guys?”


“You’re hardly ever around, Andy. What am I supposed to do, play with that magic dildo you bought me for my birthday? There’s only so much a girl can do with an inanimate object, you know. I need a real dick and I need it any way I can get it. You’re gone so much that I get beyond horny, and I’m sorry, but I want to fuck a guy or two here and there, okay?” Her green eyes lock onto mine as she becomes passionate about her time with the other men. “So, where are we now, Andrew?”


“I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t fucking know.” My wife gets up quietly and walks back to our bedroom to allow me to think on what she’s told me. There’s no need to talk anymore about this tonight. The wound is fresh and besides that I’m trying to deal with this weird sort of horniness I’m feeling from the thought of my wife doing other guys. This part of the whole equation is surprising to me and I need to process what’s going on in my own mind as much as I need to consider my wife’s adultery. Maybe with a night’s sleep, I can figure out what to do. Unfortunately, it appears my night will be spent on the couch and not beside my wife in my own bed.




********************


It’s all I can do to keep my thoughts from my wife and to put them on the work I already have at the office. Having wrapped up my investigation into a police detective’s extramarital love life, there’s plenty to do to get everything filed away and ready for the next case that I have on my docket. Though it’s a simple scout and photograph task, I figure I’ll use it to take my mind off Priscilla’s sex life while I try to decide exactly what I’m going to do about it. We didn’t talk this morning before I left for work, and I’m not sure what I’ll say to her when we do. It’s awkward at the very least, especially considering that I find it somewhat interesting to listen to the sordid details of my wife’s romps.


“Andrew, there’s a woman here to see you,” my receptionist says just as she pokes her head through my office door.


“Okay, I guess I can spare a few minutes.” I straighten my necktie as I stand from my desk chair. Just as I get around the desk and to the door, a well-dressed woman walks in.


“Mr. Southerland?”


“Yes ma’am,” I say with a forced smile. The last thing I wanted to do today was to have a conversation with anyone, but business is business. “Please have a seat.” I show the woman to a chair at the front of my desk. “And you are?”


“Rachel Desmodina,” she replies with a slight smile of her own. “I’m here to hire you if you have the time. A friend of mine hired you a couple of years back to catch her husband in the act of cheating with another woman, and I’m afraid that I’m in the same predicament.”


“You suspect your husband of cheating?” I sit down in my seat and pick up a pen and tablet. “What’s his name?”


“Ned Desmodina,” she says with a grimace.


“Okay. How long have the two of you been married?”


“Seventeen years,” Mrs. Desmodina replies. “Seventeen years of lying and deceit, apparently.” She leans forward on my desk and adds, “He’s used our money to cover his ass over the years. There are women everywhere that he’s bedded, and I’m sick of it. He’s embarrassing me in front of my friends and I shouldn’t have to put up with that.” The woman before me is pretty, though not what you would consider runway-quality for a model. In her latter thirties, she’s hot enough that I would fuck her, but not in the way that I’m sure my wife would screw the woman’s husband. My thoughts so far have been just that; thoughts. I have no intention at this moment to fuck a client.


“So, you want me to catch him in the act?”


“Yes, please. I want to divorce Ned before he fucks up my life any more than he has already. I want to take our money from him and leave him penniless in the gutter if that’s possible.”


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