3. The Waiting Game

There she was. Ready for him. Her make up was flawless. The playful flicks on her eyes and the red gloss on her lips gave her the look of a woman who knew the power of her sexuality. Her dress was fitted and showed off the curves of her hips and the shape of her perfect arse. All for him. This was a woman who was finally embracing her new status in our marriage. A woman who knew what she wanted and how to get it. This was my beautiful wife. My unstoppable Hotwife was heading out on a date with another man.

It had all began a few weeks before. I had selected a new bull for her, one that I knew she would find irresistible. Having played with three very different lovers up to this point, I was keen to raise the stakes in terms of the man I wanted her to experience. This man was perfect; 6 foot 5inches tall, handsome and with a cheeky grin. His body was powerful and would easily overshadow her, something I knew that as a tall woman she would find highly desirable. I was correct. As soon as I showed her a few pictures I knew she wanted him. The Hotwife fire had been lit, burning fiercely within her and now it was eager for fuel.

I put the two of them in touch and it was obvious almost immediately that he was going to be very popular with my wife. Watching her, I could barely contain my excitement as she would message him on her phone and giggle at his witty and funny responses. The jealousy was rising within me and with each passing day I became more and more aroused at my wife’s new found confidence and brazen sexual appetite for this man. I was pleased too that her attraction to this new bull had a positive affect on our love making in the run up to the enviable date. His name was mentioned during our most intimate moments and fantasies starring him were teased to great effect. Through all this build up, as her lust for another began to deepen at an ever increasing rate, our love and closeness were the glue holding us together. 

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Finally it was time. Her first proper evening date and we were both filled with excitement. After some discussion between the two of us, we had agreed that she would attend the date alone. This, I must admit, made me as nervous as it did thrilled. My entire fantasy revolved around my wife; seeing her being desired by other men, and watching as she finally gives into her own lust. Conflicting emotions ran through my head as I battled with my need to witness my wife’s pleasure in person and the knowledge that her being allowed to play alone was a necessary aspect of that pleasure.

As we stood together, with her departure imminent, words of love were shared between us and final confirmation was given and received. I looked into her eyes and recalled how I had fantasized over this precise scenario countless times. It was only for drinks and to get to know each other, she assured me. To this remark however I felt it necessary to remind her of the rules of our arrangement. I told her that she could do with him as little or as much as she wanted, as long as I was kept in the loop and she came home to me with a naughty story to tell.

“Stop it now,” she assured me, “we are just having drinks and that’s all”.

And with that, I held the woman I loved in a close embrace, allowing it to linger for as long as I dared. She walked out the front door and turned to me, looking a vision of desire. Then she spoke with a naughtiest smile and a wicked glint in her eye;

“Don’t wait up for me”.

The door closed and with that, she was gone. Silence. I was alone, and she was off on a lust fuelled adventure that many women would crave and would cause many a man to become enraged. She was going to meet another man with the intention of cheating on me. I would love to say, at this point, that I felt incredibly aroused and spent the rest of the evening with a constant erection, however, this would be dishonest on my part. The emotions I felt upon seeing her leave to meet this potential lover, were like pieces of some erotic puzzle, only they were loose in the box, jumbled and shaking about. Coupled with this, was the darkness and silence of my home, existing in a stark contrast to the mental whirlwind within.

I knew it would take her a while to reach her destination, so I busied myself with household chores, anything to distract my until I heard from her. Nothing else occupied me mind except the woman I love and the thrilling notion of her impending infidelity. I had soon finished my procrastination so decided I would draw my myself a bath and settle in to relax. Then my phone beeped. She was safe. She was there. He was there. They were there. Together. It then occurred to me that a strong drink would be needed also.

With my bath full and steaming, and my drink cold and tall, I settled in. The heat of the water was instantly relaxing and I felt the gratitude of my clearly tense body. This respite only lasted a short while however as I soon received another message. As gripped my phone with my wet hand my heart skipped at the notification. It was a picture. After a deep and thoughtful breath I attempted to slide the message open. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself as my dripping fingers had no effect on the screen. A quick dry later and a swipe of the finger and there it was. A picture of my beloved with another man. This photograph could have been of any young couple, anywhere in the world. These two attractive people stared up at me, smiling widely. Their hands were almost in contact and their temples touched ever so slightly. It was so mundane in its form and yet more intensely arousing then even the most explicit pornography. She was living the Hotwife life, just as I has fantasized and she was loving it! I felt the blood rushing despite the heat of the water. My cock was hard within moments. Then as quick as the moment had come, the jolt of excitement dissipated. I had replied to the message, but no response had been forthcoming.

My heart raced and my mind wandered as I imagined scenario after scenario, ranging from the desperately ordinary to the wildly outlandish. Time past slowly as I went from internet browsing, to re-reading the texts we had shared during her journey, to staring at the picture then repeating the cycle again. An hour past and then another notification. Two photographs this time. I was struck that the first appeared much more relaxed and natural then the previous effort, both participants’ clearly loosing up with the aid of alcohol. The cheeky grin on my wife’s face betrayed just how much she was enjoying herself. The jealously within was as burning as my desire. The Next picture; the same body positions but this time, their faces contorted in childish mockery, poking their tongues out at me. I couldn’t help but chuckle in spite of their teasing.

I was pleased that my responses to the photos were met with quick replies and my wife and I engaged in a short text exchange whilst her bull refreshed drinks. She informed me that the date was going well and that she was having a lot of fun. He was as polite and funny in person as he had been over text. They had discussed all manner of things and had talked in length about Hotwifing and admitted their attraction to one other. This five minute exchange was both a balm to sooth the burning anxiety and a blade that cut into my stomach, exposing my envy. I told her that I loved her and she responded in kind. It was then I sent a message that summed up my feelings perfectly toward to my gorgeous Hotwife, making my heart leap, my loins tighten and my stomach turn;

“You deserve this.”

Then I was alone again. I knew my wife and knew what was happening now with certainty. They were flirting. They were touching. Laughing and joking. They were sharing opinions on the Hotwife lifestyle as well a subconsciously acknowledging that they both knew where they wanted this date to lead. Through this all, I was alone. This was an erotic torture the likes of which I had never experienced. Despite my nerves and growing excitement, I was grounded by the knowledge that this date could go no further than getting to know each other and drinks in a crowded bar.

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Another hour past before I was contacted again. This time a selfie taken from a hidden corner, of what I assumed must have been a corridor by the ladies room. She looked incredible; fiery and clearly brimming with confidence. Her eyes sparkled with lust and lips glistened with clearly reapplied gloss. They had kissed. She confirmed as much and revealed more. Not only had they kissed but they had unleashed their desire upon each other. After stealing their first kiss amongst the crowds they had moved on, hand in hand no less to find a second venue, more private where they could fully enjoy each others lips. From the messages my wife shared it seemed that they had spent as much time tasting each others tongues as they had making small talk in the previous bar. It was then when she dropped a revelation.

“I really want to fuck him”.

Reading her words made me hard again. She wanted his cock inside her. My innocent wife was craving the cock of another man, one she had only met in the flesh a few hours before. It was clear as well, that he was just as keen to take ownership over her as he had been checking for a place to take her where the deed could be done. This however had come to nothing as the Bull’s disapproving housemate was at home. They were all turned on with nowhere to go.

Gone again. Yet this time my erection remained and for the first time that evening I was compelled to stroke myself. With each stroke pleasure filled my body as I imagined them kissing in the bar, in front of everyone, her wedding ring on show for any observer keen-eyed enough to notice it. Suddenly, another beep. A picture. It was the two of them, their lips locked together in a passionate embrace. One hand touching his chest as the other stretched to take the photograph. I was in a jealous ecstasy. I continued to masterbate as I looked at them both; my mind filling in and turning the still image into motion in my mind. It was then when I realised. The seats they were in, the closeness of the windows. They were in a car.

Driven by this thought, knowing that they were alone and giving into their desires only made my own desire increase. I wanted her badly but he had her. Another picture. I opened it agog. He was holding the camera this time, out of necessity. My wife’s hands were very much occupied. Her eyes were closed but mine were very much open, greedily examining every part of the picture. One hand on his thigh, the other around the base of his wide cock and her red lips were wrapped around his length. I continued to stroke helplessly at the image, knowing that at that very moment she was sucking his dick and realising that her competitive nature would lead her to perform exquisitely. My wife was pleasuring him, whilst I had to settle for pleasuring myself. It was a mere moment before I could feel my climax rising. Without ever removing my eyes from the image of my wife and her lover, my orgasm spilled onto my body. I laid, still and relaxed. My god I loved this woman.

Her journey home seemed to take no time at all. After cleaning myself up I had time for another drink in our living room whilst reacquainting myself with the evening’s texts and pictures. The date had been a success and my wife and I were trading messages that confirmed as much. I longed for her return. I craved her. Needed her. The keys in the lock, I rushed to the door. She had only entered our porch before my lips were on hers. We embraced in a manner that made me feel like a younger man; energised and full of competitive fire. My hand searched the curves of her body and she responded to my touch with gasps of approval. Then she looked me in the eyes.

“Get up those stairs now!”