Having spent the evening somewhere between total arousal and helpless angst, she was finally returning home. I finished my drink, and once again browsed through the images that she and her new lover had sent me throughout the evening. As I inspected each one, my lust towards her, my need to have her grew with a fearsome intensity. Then, lights outside the window. Footsteps coming toward the house. The key turning in the lock. She was home at last.
She entered the house and our hands and lips instantly found one another. I could tell that her body had been fuelled by the type of lust that only a hotwife could experience. Permitted and encouraged; my wife had spent the evening being wooed and desired by a man that I had chosen for her. Now she was home, she clearly had an itch that needed to be scratched and I was more than willing to facilitate her. Our lips and tongues continued their dance, although long gone was the routine slow dance that had sufficed for the last few years of our marriage, replaced with a vigorous quickstep, powered by lust, jealousy and of course, a deep and profound love. Finally the kiss was broken, and my wife looked into my eyes.
“Get up those stairs now!”
I didn’t have to be told twice. Grabbing tightly onto her hand, we quickly proceeded up the stairs to the bedroom. As she was about to enter, I was filled again with a wave of jealousy. I knew full well that she had been a slut for him, but I needed to hear her say it. I craved for the confirmation of her uncontrollable lust for him. I forced her tight body against the cold wall and she gasped. I could barely speak I was so full of longing for her.
“Have you been a naughty wife?” I managed, my heart racing. Her eyes shone wickedly and she grinned and nodded her head, her bottom lip disappearing beneath her teeth.. This was what I needed. My cock was as hard and wanting and she was revelling in the fact. We moved quickly onto our marital bed and she pulled me on top of her. Our hands continued to devour each other and our intense kiss resumed. Before long we had removed our clothes; there was no need for fancy lingerie in this situation, my full desire was focused on the perfection of my wife’s naked body; so familiar in form and yet there was a significant difference. Once reserved only for me, it was now being shared and enjoyed by her lovers. I had to reclaim her for my own. I needed her and could clearly see that she needed me. This would not be a standard reclaiming.
We were so full of passion, no words needed to be exchanged between us. I could tell that she had been pleasuring another man and now needed her release. She ran her fingers over my shoulders and onto my head. Her legs and hands worked in unison to move me down toward her pussy. I smiled, as no direction was required here; I too wanted to taste her and give her the pleasure she so richly deserved. The heat and scent of her sex was completely intoxicating. It was now more obvious than ever how turned on her experience with her newest lover had left her. I gently teased her inner thighs but her usual preference of ‘slow and sensual’ would not suffice. She had a craving. Grabbing my head, she moved me directly between her legs and I was put to work.
As always, the taste of my wife was exquisite. However, knowing that my wife’s arousal and subsequent wetness was due to her attraction to another man made my chest heave with jealousy and my cock throb with lust. My Vixen moved her body in unison with my tongue, quickly and forcefully reaching her orgasm. I delighted in her pleasure and in her lust. It was intoxicating, everything that I had dreamed the hotwife lifestyle could be for us both was playing out before me.
But she wasn’t finished there.
It was clear that her encounter with her new bull had left a powerful, sexual longing in her. One that was still not satisfied. Vigorously, she wrapped her long legs around me, and moved me onto my my back so that she was straddling. Again, I knew my wife and instantly understood her will. From her mounted position she grabbed at the shaft of my penis, giving it a rough stroke, as if to test its adequacy for the task at hand. We smiled and kissed greedily as we each enjoyed the encounter from our own viewpoints; mine from a position of burning envy and competitive lust, her, from a position of power over the man she loved and the forbidden craving for the cock of her new bull.
As she sat down and took my length inside her she let out a gasp of pleasure that matched my own. Our foreheads touched and we allowed ourselves the briefest moment of silent and knowing love. This was shattered however as my hungry Vixen put herself to task. She wanted another orgasm and she was going to use me in order to get it. The force of her gyrations caught me off guard. Her usual slow and tender technique was substituted for a rough and carnal pounding. We were both in ecstasy.
In the haze of the athletic fucking that I was receiving at the hips of my Vixen, I managed to utter one loaded question. A question that I knew too well the answer to but longed to hear my beautiful wife utter the answer.
“Do you wish you were fucking him?”
My wife did not disappoint; “Yes”, she replied without hesitation. Upon hearing her predictable yet desired response, my chest heaved and my heart leaped with emotions too complex to explain. Grasping my wife’s arse and holding it in place, I began to pound her from my position underneath her, giving her my hard cock, reminding her what I was capable of. She pressed her face to mine and we kissed only for her to break it at the force of my strokes. It may not have been the cock she was desiring, but the pleasure she was taking from it was more than enough to satisfy us both. Between my competitive envy and her wanton desire, neither one of us could gain full control over this encounter, yet that was part of its power. Like two predators fighting over the same kill, we continued in this manner for a short time. I say short because our orgasms were beginning to rise in quick succession. As her hips moved expertly and took me inside her again and again, her body shuddered and she cried out in a moan of pure bliss. She placed her hands on my chest and gripped tightly as her orgasm filled her. Then, with a wicked glint in her eyes she told me to fuck her and I responded in kind. As I did so however, my perfect Vixen did have one final surprise for me. One knockout blow to express her final dominance over our reclaiming encounter. Waiting until my climax was upon me, she said, in a manner only a hotwife can;
“I made him cum in my mouth and I swallowed it all.”
Secret Vixen 