A Not so Prim & Proper Wife

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This story is solely a work of fiction, and no resemblance or other identification is intended or implied.

The author retains full-copyright, effective May, 2017.

This completely fictional work is a story involving interracial sex, seduction, and a cheating wife. For those who will read this work of fiction, and use it as a platform to berate, denigrate, or otherwise harass the author should move on to works more suitable to their view. In short, if you are going whine, I don't want to hear it.

Constructive feedback is always welcome. Feedback including the identification of the provider will receive due attention. Anonymous feedback will likely be ignored.

(MF, IR, Cheat, Alcohol, Preg?)

A Not So Prim & Proper Wife

By Suzi Recreant (satinlvr_f@yahoo.com)

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Tessa was unusually excited as she walked in the door, her grin spread from ear to ear. "Love, you'll never guess what happened!" She beamed to her husband. Shutting the door behind her, she hurried to his waiting, open arms, their standard way to greeting each other at the end of their respective work days.

Her four-inch stilettos clicked heavily on the hardwood flooring, the polish so shined it nearly reflected the soles of her shoes. Only the fact that the heels were strappy, and had a bow--tie at the top of her calf to secure it, that kept her ankles strong enough to keep from slipping. Safely reaching his arms, she grinned to him, and their lips met, a soft, tender expression of affection and adoration. She truly loved her Daniel. Long blond hair trailing from her shoulders and almost mid-way down her back, she had that sexpot figure, perhaps as one would expect of a twenty-four year old woman. With C-up breasts, and a twenty-six inch waist, she presented the epitome of an hourglass figure, flared to a pear-shaped butt, atop nice legs that gave her an overall height of only five-foot four inches in stocking-feet. Hence the reason she always wore four inch heels. Without them, just about the whole world towered over her, including her students, and since she dealt with secondary school children, and even the youngest adults of eighteen, a lack of height was often perceived as a weakness. So it was tall heels, always.

She had to always appear professional as well. Skirts, whether they were pencil skirts or looser, flowing pleated or circle skirts, were hemmed just above the knee, or lower, and dresses were at least long-sleeved skater dresses, if not shirtdresses or something more formal. Her blouses were an extravagance, usually silk, charmeuse or satin, or some other fine material, but cleavage was never more than two buttons from her throat, though it did make the material she wore strain a bit to contain her ample bosom. Tessa's girls were firm, full, and proud. She would never admit it, but her boobs were a source of her self-esteem, and she took an inward pride that a bra was only necessary due to her work's dress-code. The girls could stand up on their own just fine, thank you!

The warm kiss ended, albeit reluctantly, but she did have exciting news to share!

"Danny!" she blurted out. She used his pet-name when she was excited. "Remember the project I designed? The one to help some of our troubled students? Those who still had some hope of being reclaimed and brought up to graduation levels? I didn't tell you, but the principal liked it enough to send it up to the district with his endorsement, and they LOVE it! So much so that I am meeting with the assistant superintendent next week after class to review it! Isn't that great?"

Dan was a bit confused, at first, until she started filling in more pieces and gaps. Yes, he knew she was working on a project, but truthfully? He hadn't paid overly great attention to it. He had his own work to take care of, and to work on his business. Being an account representative had its perks, certainly, but it also had some pitfalls, one of which was when things got closer to end of month, he was working long hours to close deals, make sure orders were filled, and properly, and in general stay on top of things, and the occasional travel to the more far-flung clients. He had been mildly listening as she was working on the proposal for the last three months, and soon it would be end of month, and he was going to be swamped.

Giving her the recognition she desired, even craved, he kissed her again, and hugged her tightly, truly happy for his wife, but not entirely sure he had a clue what was going on, but he was able to fake it. In the end, it might have been a better idea to pay closer attention. Giving her a final pat on the butt, he asked her to change, so they could start making dinner together.

Tessa had a penchant to be prim and proper while at work, simply because she had to be. Her students thought she was an old fuddy-duddy at the ripe old age of 24, but in truth, Tessa was a woman, and that meant her being soft, feminine, and pretty. Under her outer-wear was a garter and hosiery, seamed down the back, and matching thong panties. She hated panty-lines with a passion, and even the small bulges that announced her garter belt would really antagonize her some days. Usually it was only a problem if she was wearing a tight skirt or dress, or some of her business suit pants. So she would wear looser clothing on her how time, and tonight was no exception. Doffing her skirt, blouse, and bra, she pulled over her head a black satin baby doll, the thin lace hem just swaying an inch or two below her butt cheeks. The front had a nice drape to it, and exposed much more of her cleavage. Not to mention let the girls rest in comfort, the thin satin allowing her nipples to show very obviously. She liked the look, and in fact, would look very enticing to any man, but she would never dare let another male lay eyes on her like her husband could, and hopefully later on, would. Oh, she might go in the back yard with Dan, as they sat on the deck to look at the stars and drink a glass of wine and just talk, but never would she venture out the front door dressed like this. Provocative and gorgeous as she was, it simply wouldn't do.

So they enjoyed a nice dinner together, and chatted about their days, venting to each other, with Tessa comprehending more of Dan's work than the other way around, mainly because most of Tessa's stories related to students that Dan had no correlation with, they were all a jumble of names, and since she had over 150 of them pass through her classroom during any given day, it made for some real confusion. He could remember certain ones, mainly from their descriptions. The tall kid, the girl who was a slut in the bathroom, black kids were easy to track, as there weren't many, one especially stood out, as he was a bully, and for Tessa a real pain in her rear, given he was only fifteen. Why Tessa would want to save him from prison was beyond his comprehension. Dan looked at people as conquests and targets. Tessa looked at people as, well, human beings.

Tessa had a hope that tonight her husband would give her some of his precious time. She knew he worked hard, and did so in order to be so successful, an achievement that allowed them to have a very nice living. They had a nicer home, a lot of luxuries that others couldn't afford, and in general, a much more comfortable lifestyle. The problem was that when he worked late, Tessa's own personal needs were left unattended. Tonight would be no exception. Dan had a checklist to accomplish, as he had to make a longer trip after this coming weekend, and he had to make sure everything was in order.

There was no doubt that Dan loved his wife, and loved her dearly. She was his confidant, and his friend, a great homemaker, and a wife, while being his lover fell somewhere around fourth in his priorities. When they made love, it was usually on the weekend, and usually about a thirty-minute coital exploration of shared passion, it was over, and he'd either roll over and start snoring, or go back to work. With a soft, loving kiss from her husband, Tessa, slipped off to bed, and undid the ribbon wrapping her heels to her legs, and then her thong, garter and hosiery. She always wore the thong outside the garters, simply because it made using the bathroom so much easier. She would often lament that garters and stockings were invented by men that way, simply because they didn't have to do it.

Finally nude under her baby doll, she slid into bed, the silky silver satin sheets helping her slide back into the bed, and as she draped the sheet over her, the way the material simply glided along her curves took her already warmed-up motor and turned it into high gear. Glancing to make sure the door was shut; she let her fingers begin to wander her body, the perfect manicure gleaming against the soft moonlight through the window. With an expansive back yard, and a second story master bedroom, there was no need to close the curtains. Only a helicopter pilot could look inside. Nipples already poking up, she teased on, and then the other, her mind drifting to her fantasies. There weren't many, as she had a rather strait-laced upbringing, but a favorite was her thong being soiled at work, and having to forego it for the afternoon, only to come home and have Dan ravish her wildly on the couch, her dress up on her back, and her body held bent over. Another secret fantasy? To be in bed, and have Dan making her squeal in orgasmic delight, while a peeping tom looked in surreptitiously. She was curious of other sexually-charged ideas, but they were passing ideas, like outdoor sex, and black men. But they were just idle things, mostly, though she did engage Dan in pillow-talk one night during sex, and teased him relentlessly, about her dress being so full, and the winds so high, that in the stairwell to the top floor of her building, the hem blew up and completely exposed her stockings and suspenders, not to mention her sheer thong, and all of her students could see her landing strip and bare butt. Dan erupted in remarkably short order from that, so she refrained from telling him such stories. It made him hot, certainly, but shortened her sexual experiences, and left her wanting all the more.

The images slowly played out in her mind, as she felt her fingers slide down her satin baby doll, until she could lift the hem slightly, and lightly encircle her pearl. Her breathing grew deeper, and she had to do it quietly, her mind lost in the dream that Dan was with her and that there was a stranger in the house, on the other side of the closed door. Could she keep herself constrained so as not to tip of their passion and love? The images flashed through her mind as to who it could be. A neighbor? A stranger? A burglar? One of her senior students whom she knew fancied her? The last one had her going full-force, the sheer taboo of it making her hips pump up and down, as she teased and pinched her clit. Then the thought hit her of one of the troubled teens? The bully, maybe? Threatening to come in and watch them, maybe bullying them? That was as long as she lasted, and her back arched, her legs taut and wide, biting her lip to stay quiet, even though her husband was down stairs and in his office across the house.

She fell back to the bed, the sheets no longer covering her but fallen aside in a cascade of shimmery satin, her lungs gasping for air, as she was unable to stifle a small giggle in relief. In the plateau of after-love, she let her mind wander. As usual, she thought about her husband, who, despite this one shortcoming, was an otherwise incredible man to be married to. She pondered a bit. Would he hear her at all? What if she screamed? What if she was with one of her fantasy lovers? How would he react? They didn't own a gun, much to Dan's displeasure. Tessa simply didn't believe in them, or think them necessary. If a criminal wanted something they had, she would simply give it to them. Things could be replaced. It had never dawned on her that a rapist would covet her body, and nothing else. Left to the thinking, she relaxed, and drifted off, only to wake up the next morning, her husband in the shower, and readying for his day. Tessa got out of bed and started on her own.

Tessa kissed Dan good bye at the airport, and she smiled with a farewell wave. Dan was going on his trip, and would be gone for several days. Her prim and proper attire of a champagne satin blouse, and black polyester pencil skirt enhanced her figure, though she was wearing a sheer black thong and thigh high stockings, rather than her garter and hose. The dark seam led every wandering eye of the men who might ogle her down to her black patent-leather spiked heels. Her vanilla and orange perfume wafted her very femininity as she slowly strutted her way to the concourse, and the parking lot, eager for her afternoon meeting with the school district representative. Word had been sent requesting this interview, and if all went well, the next meetings would be with the actual board members of the school district. She was finding herself on a suddenly rocketing trajectory, and her school was getting to go along for the ride. Her supervisors were all happy and all too willing to adjust her schedule and find substitute teachers so she could polish her presentation. That afternoon would be the start!

The clock seemed to roll over ever so slowly, until it was finally time, and she drove to the district office. Heels clicking loudly on the linoleum-tiled floor, she made her way to the office, announcing herself politely to the secretary. Tessa was then escorted to a conference room, where the person she was to meet was seated. She was, for a moment, taken aback. Her eyes looked upon a dark figure, nearly coal black, in fact, wearing a pair of tan slacks, a white shirt, and a red tie. As he rose to meet her, he stuck out his hand.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Lang, my name is Ofi Ekpera Imbulu. " he gave her a great smile, his teeth seeming to gleam in the crease of his thick, dark lips, and he continued with his heavy Kenyan accent. "Please call me Ofi. It seems the best for everyone who tries to pronounce my name."

Despite her heels, Tessa found herself looking up into his eyes as he spoke, his tall, wiry build having him hover almost a full foot over her. Her perfectly manicured red nails were engulfed by his long fingers, and she found a slight jump in her heart as he spoke to her. Her blue eyes lost in his for a moment.

"I am happy to make your acquaintance, Ofi." She smiled in her gleaming, near-flawless smile as she set her folders down, the tight skirt requiring her body to bend at the waist, the satin blouse shining in the harsh fluorescent lights.

Buttoned up closely, the slick material could not conceal her ample bosom, a fact Ofi did not miss. The trim cut of the skirt, and the tiny waist and flat belly belied her femininity even more. She was, to Ofi, a perfect example of the type of woman who would be a great mother, biologically speaking, and his biology was screaming at his cock. Large, full, firm breasts, slender hips and a very feminine carriage only escalated his perceptions of her. His flat, wide nostrils also inhaled her scent. Biologically, she had displayed herself as the idea female. To his tribal heritage, he was almost entitled to her, and it was only his strong will and discipline that kept him from simply taking her on the table.

Seated and arranged, Tessa began her presentation, the way she had rehearsed it. Ofi was certainly an imposing figure, and she presumed he had his attractiveness, but he was not a handsome man. Maybe in his homeland in African, perhaps, but here? His flat nose, coal-black skin, yellowed eyes, and tribal scars on his face were at best unsettling to her, at worst, she found him ugly. Her Dan cut a much more handsome figure, and definitely had her eye, not to mention her heart. She had no problem at all focusing on her presentation, while Ofi had no problem at all focusing on Tessa's body.

As she began, Ofi's hands were on the table, showing his desire to listen, while his mind was far away, in fact, in his bedroom, imagining this teacher, woman, and wife on her back, legs wide, his hips thrusting hard into her, until he sprayed her insides with his baby-juice. The images were so erotic to him, that his hands slid from the table, and he leaned forward, feigning attention as he flexed his fingers. Trying to call out attention to where he was faking a question, his dark hand 'accidently' caressed hers, as he scooted closer to her. Tessa made no reaction to his touch, making him think it was permissive. Asking his semi-appropriate question, Tessa went on to reply, and he again bumped her hand, letting his long black fingers gently caress back up a portion of her forearm as if carelessly, while he leaned back, nodding.

Tessa was finally starting to recognize he was flirting with her, and she could not help but blush, and give a soft grin. She was more embarrassed than anything. She had to admit that being desired was stroking her own ego, yet still, she was happily married and a dutiful wife. She would never cheat on her husband, her Daniel. Continuing on, she felt his hand brush her thigh through her skirt as he let his arms back down to his own thighs. Again he feigned interest in her project. She was falling for it, and ignored the brush of her thigh. To him, this was growing tacit approval to continue. He was cut short, though, by the end of the presentation.

As you can see, Ofi..." her conclusion began, the idea of taking the bullies out of the classroom, and placing them in an environment dedicated to helping them resolve the issues that are causing their incorrect behaviors also helps the victims. We already have the facilities, and we have the teachers, all we need to do is put two and two together and make four!" She ended with her brilliant smile.

Ofi looked the papers over, to buy time, for he desperately wanted to see her again, but away from work. His mind worked over various scenarios. He was missing something here. What was it? When it hit him, as she sat there expectantly, it jolted him in his chair, for it had been so obvious. The motion had alarmed Tessa so much that she reached out to touch Ofi's arm, her soft, pale skin on his dark forearm. He was swift on the uptake, however, and used the opportunity of his mild reaction, and her greater alarm, to place his long fingers over her hand, and gently caress her skin. As she saw he was alright, she tried to let go, only to have his hand follow hers, until they were holding hands on the table.

"My dear Tessa," he began in his African-accented timbre. "It seems there are some important omissions in an otherwise brilliant presentation and program you have here." His voice was almost a baritone melody, as their eyes met. Her look was almost one of horror, for she had thought of everything, she believed, and was mortified she had missed something. His eyes, however, were imagining her blouse open, the silky and milky white bosom being groped and fondled by his hands, while his cock stirred, as it was already feeling the rise in sexual want for this woman. "The cost factors to the district, related to capacities, and teacher salaries. Not to mention how the whole program will be received by the public." He gave her a condescending smile. He was making a play here, a guess, almost, but as he read her, she seemed to want to be a good, no, make that great, teacher, and she truly did want what was best for the students, and the parents as a whole.

Tessa's jaw flapped a few times, her red-painted lips amply demonstrating how kissable they were, and how Ofi would enjoy seeing those red lips wrapped around his black mamba. When she finally did speak, it was as if she was crestfallen.