Although he usually put his phone on "Do Not Disturb" when he went to bed, Vic didn't tonight. It wouldn't matter anyway; he was too wound up to even think about sleeping. Had he really just told his wife of 13 years to "have fun?!" It was just their typical fun and games, right?
But when his phone dinged with an incoming text message, he was afraid to look. What had she sent him? Was she going to bed already? Vic's cock started to swell. Maybe she really was considering hooking up with this water. What if she did? What if his wife took a stranger, a waiter, a black guy, back to her room!? She wouldn't; she couldn't. She had told him countless times, how fun it was to pretend but how it would never go beyond that.
She was a good girl. Melissa had only had sex with two other guys before him. Vic could picture her pretty face pouting as she said, "I'm not a slut!" She had admitted to giving lots of guys oral, though. That was her way to get out of fucking, back when she was single. Oral was no big deal to her, then.
Vic still hadn't dared to look at his phone. He reveled in the uncertainty. He realized his heart was racing and he was taking rapid, shallow breaths. He grabbed his dick; it was hard. He thought about his wife; she was so petite, just 5'2", 115 lbs...a lot of it in her bubbly ass. She has the best ass, and loves showing it off. What was she wearing while she was at that hotel bar? One of her short black skirts that made her booty pop, most likely. Combined with her long blonde hair, she turned heads everywhere! Vic loved watching guys check her out; he enjoyed having what everyone else wanted.
Early in their relationship, Vic was a total alpha, jealously protecting his girl from every perceived flirt or come-on from guys at bars. He and Melissa had more than a few fights about his jealousy over the years. He shook his head, smiling. "Who would ever think that guy would now be this guy?" Vic thought to himself. How did it all start? He had always been hornier than most, kinkier than most. Somehow, he had convinced his gorgeous wife to go to a swinger club with him. She HATED it. Absolutely hated it. Luckily, they found an open private room and had some incredible sex; they left the door open and had quite a little crowd watching as they fucked. They both enjoyed that.
But on the drive home, Melissa told him that she would never be ok with Vic fucking other woman. Over time, though, Vic realized that he still loved the idea of Melissa having sex with other guys. It was still so taboo; something that NO ONE did, something that everyone is hard-wired to resist. It's a basic tenant of manhood: protecting your woman also meant hoarding her, keeping her away from all other men. But Vic had embraced something greater, more altruistic. Why not let his wife have all the fun and pleasure possible? Somehow, that was an easier leap for Vic than it had been for Melissa. She had been entirely resistant to the whole idea; swearing it would never go beyond the role play in the bedroom. And, to be honest, that was a big part of what fueled Vic's hotwife fantasy; corrupting his innocent wife, turning the good-girl that only had sex with long term boyfriends into a passionate woman that embraced her sexuality and her hidden inner slut.
The dildos they used in the bedroom had slowly gotten bigger over time. She would never admit it, but Melissa's best orgasms came from her biggest dildo. Vic loved watching her body react to it, the way she would claw at his arm, thrusting her hips as Vic plunged the dildo into her delicate little pussy. Often, he would talk to her, "Baby, you look so good fucking him. Do you love his cock? You love that big cock, don't you? Cum for me, baby. Cum on his big cock." And Melissa would explode with pleasure! Still, she swore it was just bedroom talk, fantasy, never to be a reality.
Vic realized he had been stroking himself through his underwear. 6.5" was nothing to be ashamed of, but it was a far cry from that big dildo his wife loved so much. Right around the time he turned 40, his stamina started to decline. He couldn't maintain erections and frequently had to rely on the dildo to bring his wife off. He was a good husband, a great one; he worked hard to provide the very best life could offer to his wife and his kids. Why shouldn't that include another man for her, a living sex toy, that could bring her to orgasm after orgasm?
He looked at his phone, still hesitating. In his head, he knew his wife was just texting him a good night message; there was no way she was going to hook up with a random waiter. She had admitted to having "a thing" for her trainer from the gym. She had told Vic that if she was going to hook up with someone else, he would be at the top of her list. She liked how he treated her; how kind he was, and attentive. He would flirt, but never inappropriately or over the line. That was a sweet torture in its own right; knowing the guy that Melissa worked out with multiple days a week was also someone she would consider having sex with. She would often joke with Vic, asking if her butt looked good in certain shorts or tights because she wanted to look good for her trainer.
But, that was a far cry from a random hotel hook up. Vic would prefer the random guy for Melissa; it eliminated any risk of people finding out about his desire to share his wife. It also meant it would just be sex, no chance of feelings developing and those assorted implications. Sure, there was more risk with a random guy, from STDs to just being a weird guy. That's the beauty of fantasy, though; you don't really need to worry about the realities of fucking other people. Melissa did, though. She worried it would affect their marriage; she didn't want to do anything that could harm their relationship. Her main hang-up with the entire wife-sharing thing was that it would be a reality--she would develop feelings for the other guy because she had to "feel something" to have sex with someone; she wasn't just some piece of meat, a slut looking to get fucked. She emphasized that repeatedly to Vic over the years.
But, until he looked at his phone, he could imagine otherwise. He could imagine his wife kissing this waiter, pressed up against the wall by the bathroom, his hands grabbing her ass as Melissa held on to his head. Vic was definitely going to need to jerk off before he could go to sleep!
He opened up his phone, and starred at the picture without comprehending what he was looking at. "14019"? Was that a time? Wait. What? Vic realized he was looking at a napkin and that his wife had written her room number on it. "No fucking way!" he mumbled under his breath.
