include_once("common_lab_header.php");
Excerpt for Anonymous Hotwife by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

This page may contain adult content. If you are under age 18, or you arrived by accident, please do not read further.

Anonymous Hotwife

A Wife Watching Hotwife Romance Novel


All Right Reserved © Karly Violet 2019


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.





Sign up to the mailing list to download the

free Epilogue to The Hotwife Adventure and Hotwife Training and to be updated on all future releases.


http://eepurl.com/c3ICWf




Chapter One: A Powerful Woman


“Lance, please,” I say to my husband as I pull hard at his cock. “Let’s just do this, okay? Stop with the fantasy stuff.”


“Stop with it?” Lance focuses his dark brown eyes on me as he watches me play with his penis. This is a favorite thing for him, to have me sitting while naked between his legs as I pull on his manhood to help him relieve a little tension at the end of the day. I’ve even gotten to where I can put my feet on his balls to give a little added sensation to the hand jobs I give my husband. Lance doesn’t take long when I get going, but sometimes he takes a trip into fantasyland as I play with him. For years, I’ve thought it to be just an innocent attempt to get himself more excited, but now I’m not so certain that he isn’t serious about what he says during these times.


“This feels good, right?” I say with a smile as I try to get his mind back onto what I’m doing for him.


He looks me in the eyes before turning his attention to my hands. Though he is definitely aroused, I can feel his cock become just a little softer in my hands. “Yeah, okay,” he replies flatly as he lies back on his pillow. “No problem.”


Satisfied that I’ve put his weird fantasy to rest, I keep sliding each hand up and down his phallus. I’m good at what I do, helping Lance to spurt his white man sauce high into the air every time I massage his pole. I can even get him to yell out as he comes, though when our son is over with his girlfriend it can be a little embarrassing at dinnertime. There’s no doubt that they sometimes hear Lance when I help him get off, but I’m sure they understand. It’s human nature to want to have an orgasm, and Lance is no different than most men. “You’re getting soft,” I say with some disappointment as I wiggle my toes in his scrotum and try stroking a little faster. “Do you need me to get a little more lube on my hands?”


“No, I’m fine,” he replies while staring at the ceiling. “I just need to get into it better. Give me a minute, Gina.”


“A minute,” I say as I shake my head. Once Lance loses an erection it generally doesn’t come back, given a minute or not. “I should have just gone along with what you were saying, huh?” My husband doesn’t answer immediately, but I can tell by his silence that I’ve fucked up again. “Why is this always a thing with you, Lance?”


“A thing?” he says as he looks from the ceiling to me without lifting his head. “It’s not a thing, honey. Just forget about it and let me get into the right mindset.”


“You were in the mindset for this five minutes ago,” I answer as I become a little disgusted with him. “You were as hard as you ever are when you were talking it all up.”


“Talking it up,” he parrots. “Well, yeah, I guess I was. I like to think about you doing that sort of thing, that’s all.”


“Having sex with another guy? I just don’t get you, Lance. I do all kinds of things for you like this and you have to bring the thought of having me fuck another guy into our bedroom.”


“Just forget it.” Lance rolls to his side, my slippery hands coming off his quickly wilting penis as he scoots to the edge and stands up. “I’ve got to go into work today anyway.”


“Since when do you have to work on a Saturday morning?”


“Since I got the new project. I’m going in to get things wrapped up so that I don’t have to worry about it later in the week.”


I begin to sulk a little as I watch Lance reach for his underwear and pants on the chair near our bedroom door. “You’re really going to walk out of here without coming because I don’t want to think about myself getting fucked by a strange man? Is that what our marriage has come to?”


“Our marriage,” my husband answers with frustration, “is a little too vanilla right now, my love. All I was doing was talking, Gina. I didn’t bring a guy in here and ask you to bend over the bed for him. It was just a fantasy…”


“I hate those,” I say quickly and without allowing my husband to finish his thought. “Fantasies destroy marriages.”


“No, they help them,” he seethes while shaking his head and pulling his underwear up. I watch as his flaccid pecker disappears behind the light grey boxer briefs he has selected from the dresser drawer. “It’s fine, though; you don’t have to worry about me ever bringing that up again. I’ve learned my lesson.”


“Lance, please,” I say as I walk up to him and put my hand on his shoulder. “Look, I can go along with it while I play with you if you want. Just come lie back down on the bed and I’ll take care of you. I don’t need you going off to work angry with me and then coming back home with a chip on your shoulder.”


“I’m good, thanks,” he says coldly. “I can do that for myself if I get to needing it too badly.”


I take a breath as I step back from my husband. The idea that he would forego a hand job from me just to beat off in the bathroom instead is an insulting proposition. Why would a man do that if he has a woman ready, willing, and able to do that for him? “Lance, you’re really being a little bit of a jerk about this whole thing.”


“A jerk?” He chuckles as he pulls a shirt over his head. “Yeah, okay, I’m a jerk. A jerk that simply wants his wife to have a little fun while I watch.”


“So, you do want me to have sex with another man. You were not just talking for the sake of sex play, were you?”


His eyes stare evenly at me as he replies, “Yeah, Gina, I want to see you screw another man. It should be no surprise that I want this, considering that I’ve talked about it for years.”


“But I thought it was all just playful banter.”


“Playful banter. Yeah, we’ll chalk it up to that, Gina.” He turns to get a pair of socks from another drawer. After doing so, he sits down in a chair to put them on and to slip his shoes on as well. “Just let it go. I’ve got a lot to do at work anyway.”


“You’re being really rude. I can give you a nice hand job…”


“Sure, you can,” he angrily replies. “I’m just not in the mood right now, Gina. The rude jerk is not looking to get his pole polished today.”


“Fuck.”


“Yeah, fuck,” he grumbles as he stands to his feet. “Fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck.”


“Stop being childish.”


“Stop begin a prudish bitch.” I take a deep breath as I look into my husband’s eyes. I can’t recall a single time before in our marriage in which he called me such a thing.


As tears begin to form in my eyes, I tell him, “That’s harsh, Lance. Really harsh. After twenty-two years of marriage, you finally let your mouth say such a thing to me.” My husband says nothing, but continues to stare back at me. I think he regrets calling me a bitch, but there is no obvious sign that he is about to apologize for the remark. This is a real turning point in our marriage, and one that I’m worried about. “Don’t ever ask me to have sex with another man again, Lance. You have no right after what you have called me.”


“Understood, ma’am. Anything else, ma’am?” He gives me a strange salute as if to mock some power over him that I hold.


“Shit, you’re a prick.”


“Yes, ma’am,” he says with another salute. “Will there be anything else you need from me today, ma’am? Perhaps I should lie on the floor naked and allow you to stomp my balls into the carpet? Would that satisfy you, ma’am?”


“Stop,” I say as I cry a little. “Don’t be this way, Lance.”


“Right.” He shakes his head as he picks up his car keys and cell phone from the dresser near the bed. “I’ll be a nice boy and do whatever you want from now on, Regina. I’ll follow your orders.” Lance only uses my full first name when he is aggravated with me. He knows I have never liked my full name, and so for more than two decades of marriage he has referred to me simply as Gina. It has a sweet ring to it, and with his smooth, mid-range voice it causes bumps to rise along my neck when he says it while making love to me.


“Lance, this is going too far.”


“I’ll see you later,” he says as he walks out through our bedroom door. I follow him to the living room and watch as he steps through the front door of the condominium and then leaves.


“It’s Saturday, dammit,” I say to the empty room. “Lance, why are you such an asshole?” When we were first married, our relationship was so sweet and special. Sex was almost daily, with a gentle whisper in my ear from behind being the catalyst to the passion that would soon follow in our bedroom. Then came Trey. He was by no means a mistake, but he was definitely a surprise. We had only been married a year before I got pregnant with our son, our only child, and that seemed to take a lot out of our marriage for a while. After all, when you are constantly dealing with a newborn and the things that go along with that, you can’t really keep up the intensity we had going beforehand. I think that was the beginning of a wedge between Lance and I that has only gotten worse over the years. Sex now, if either of us even wants it, usual devolves into mutual masturbation and frustrating arguments. It’s just not what it was at one time.


“Why do things have to always be so complicated with you?” My husband confuses the hell out of me when it comes to sex and his fantasies. Lance looks at porn a lot nowadays, something that I’ve known for a while but that I have not confronted him about. It’s embarrassing more than anything else, the thought of him ogling the naked bodies of other women instead of attempting to improve our relationship. I get upset occasionally about his attitudes about sex and what he wants me to do to help him with his horny fantasies, but I’m mostly numb about it now. Today’s ruckus isn’t new, but it is more intense than what our previous arguments have been. Lance is angry, and I think that I’m beginning to get tired of his attitude toward me as well.


My cell phone rings, causing me to jump a little before reaching over to where I have laid it on the coffee table. “Hey, Jackie,” I say into the phone as I realize it’s one of my colleagues from work.


“Hey, Gina. I thought I would call to see if you and Lance will be attending the party tonight.”


“Party?” I suddenly remember signing up for a small get-together that we are supposed to have for Ricky Davis, a guy who is finally retiring from the dental practice in December. He’s been with the practice since it first opened thirty-one years ago and now he’s ready to enjoy life without scraping tartar off kids’ teeth. He’s been a great dental hygienist to work with and I can honestly say that were it not for him I would not be as accomplished today as I am. “Shit, what time?”


“You forgot, didn’t you?” Jackie laughs on the other end of the phone. “Well, I have you down to bring the peanut butter fudge and some drinks.”


“Yeah, I’ll get it all together,” I reply as I shake my head. “How many will be there?”


“Well, there’s our office and the rest of the damn building, Gina. Ricky knows everybody there, so I’m guessing forty or fifty. Maybe a few more.”


“Shit, okay.” I scratch my head as I try to think of what I need to make the fudge. “What time?”


“Eight, Gina. You know, I could bring those things myself if you can’t make it.”


“No,” I answer quickly. “Lance and I will both be there by eight.”


“Okay,” she says on the other end of the line. “I’ll see you both then tonight, Gina. Have a good day.”


“You too.” I hang up and slide my cell phone into my purse near the door. I then pick up the purse and dig around for my car keys so that I can go to the store to get what I need to make the fudge. At least this is something that will take my mind off everything going on with Lance. Of course, now I’ll have to text him and ask him to keep tonight open for the party. He might or he might not, but I’ll go regardless of my husband’s decision to participate. Ricky deserves at least that much from his friends.


Chapter Two: A Road Never Traveled


“I hate these things,” I tell my wife as we step into the large home on Lakeshore Drive. “Every time we come to one of these I have to find a corner to hide in while you schmooze with your coworkers.”


“You should try to get to know them, Lance,” she says to me as she looks at me with her beautiful blue eyes. At five-feet-four and one-hundred-twenty pounds, my wife is a gorgeous forty-two-year-old woman. Her brown hair sits nicely just past her shoulders, not a single strand of grey in the mix. Gina is remarkably younger looking than she is, a testament to both genetics and her intensive health regimen. For years she has tried to get me to eat better and to avoid the sun more, just as she does, but I’ve resisted her on every level. Now, seeing her in the light of the studio apartment causes me to wish I had tried to keep myself a bit fitter so that I don’t have to feel like the frumpy partner in the marriage. Gina is lovely, and as we walk through the large room several other men take notice.


“That’s a nice dress,” I tell her as I look at the short, black cocktail number she chose last week at the dress shop.


“Thank you,” she replies with a slight smile. “Let’s go say hello to Ricky after I drop off the fudge, okay?” I nod and then watch her as she walks toward the long kitchen bar.


“Hey, man,” a voice says behind me. I turn to see a man who appears to be in his mid-twenties looking at me. “I’m Dawson.” He offers a hand, and I take it before giving it a brief shake.


“Lance.”


“Good to meet you, Lance.” He smiles broadly as he looks at my wife across the room. “Is she yours?”


“Mine?” I chuckle a little. “Well, she’s my wife if that’s what you mean.”


“Oh, really?” He smiles nervously as he looks down at his feet. “Really sorry for the way I asked that. I mean, she’s attractive and if she had just been an acquaintance…” His voice trails off as he looks at me. “Man, I’m sorry. I’m doing it again.”


I look over the young man and admire the way he looks. It’s obvious that Dawson takes care of himself, his body muscular through the designer shirt he is wearing. He smiles softly as he runs his hand over his short-cropped hair at the back of his head. “It’s cool,” I tell him with a smile as I look at Gina. “My wife’s a hot piece of tail, so I can see why you are so hot for her.”


I almost laugh as I watch him swallow whatever words he was about to spit out in my direction. I’m pretty sure he’s not encountered a guy like me who is willing to put something like this out to a man I’ve just met. “Um, she’s pretty.”


“Pretty is a word for a preteen, Dawson. Gina is a fine specimen of a woman, so feel free to comment to that respect, alright?” He nods his head. “So, do you work at the office with her?”


“I work in the same building, but I’m a radiation tech at Dr. Frankle’s office down the hallway.”


“Oh, okay,” I reply. “But you see my wife during the day?”


“Sometimes,” he admits. “We’re not really on a first-name basis, though.”


“Well, let’s fix that tonight.” I take the man by his elbow and lead him over to where Gina is talking to a couple of her friends. “Hey, Gina?”


“Yeah?” she answers as she turns around to see the two of us standing next to her.


“This is Dawson. Dawson, this is my wife Gina.”


“I’ve seen you around, right?” my wife says to him as she offers him her hand. Dawson takes it as he nods his head. I can see by the look on his face that he would love to see Gina’s naked form if given half the chance.


“I work at Dr. Frankle’s.”


“Yeah, the x-ray guy. We send patients your way sometimes.” She smiles warmly, her blue eyes fixed on the young man.


Purchase this book or download sample versions for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-13 show above.)