Lesbian Hotwives Confidential

Copyright 2017, 2021 Lisa Summers

All characters depicted in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age.

Prologue

Fresh from their honeymoon in the British Isles, visiting some of the most historic and beautiful sights in Great Britain and Ireland, newlyweds Matt and Donna Hopkins returned to the United States, to their new home in Edina, Minnesota, a well-to-do suburb of Minneapolis. Matt started work at Caldwell Printing, owned by Donna's father Phil Caldwell, looking forward to a career there and eventually taking over the reins when Phil retired.

Donna dedicated herself to community work, volunteering at the local Food Pantry, assisting the poor of neighboring towns in increasing their food security and especially enjoyed seeing the delight in the eyes of families and their small children as one of their greatest fears was relieved on a daily basis through her efforts.

Matt and Donna were well on their way as two of Edina's more beloved and active citizens, giving back to their community. In spite of their prominent status, the two were the most stable, dependable and approachable members of town, always to be found at the 9 AM Sunday Services at Edina's Church of the Shepherd, and active in the town's Adult Sports Program, playing together in the coed volleyball league.

While many in the community were envious of the couple's happiness and good looks and obvious love for each other, none were jealous. The two only inspired the best of human nature in those they met. Many a man wished he were Matt, and many a woman wished she were Donna.

But, wishing is fun as long as it's only imaginary. The aphorism comes to mind, "Be careful what you wish for...you might get it."

Chapter 1

"Caitlyn, would you mind getting me a soda from the refrigerator?" 28 year old Donna asked her maid.

"Yes ma'am," responded the young Irish immigrant, serving as a maid to Matt and Donna Hopkins. Her service in their upper middle class household could be her key to entry into the United States, and her first step toward acquiring a green card, which would allow her to live permanently there and perhaps someday apply for citizenship.

33 year old Matt Hopkins glanced at Caitlyn O'Rourke, barely 21 and frankly gorgeous, tall at 5' 8" with long, ringlets of rich, lustrous dark red hair, intelligent green eyes, a sweetly freckled complexion and a charming lilt to her voice. Deep within him he harbored dreams of fucking every hole on the girl and covering that sweet face with a flood of his sticky white cum, though the chances of that ever happening were somewhere between never and never.

Matt loved his wife and wasn't about to jeopardize his marriage. The fact that his father-in-law owned the company at which Matt worked was certainly also a contributing factor to his reticence. However, nothing said that he couldn't occasionally imagine that he was fucking Caitlyn when in fact his cock was inside his wife Donna's tight, wet pussy.

The girl had just been with the couple for three months now, and Matt thought that if things continued as they were, that would be fine. After all, his wife Donna was hardly ugly herself.

Short brunette hair in a pixie cut, cute face and cool blue eyes, sweet, even disposition, the 5' 2" young woman who had won his heart at Middlebury College when he noticed her playing varsity volleyball years before was everything that he could ever expect out of life, and the fact that she came with a sinecure lifetime employment had been a plus, but certainly not the deciding factor for him.

Although Matt had adjusted well to married life - he had hardly been a playboy in college, more of an academic nerd - and was usually more than content to stay at home with Donna, in the last month he'd begun having disquieting dreams, dreams of women entangled in each other's hot, naked arms, breasts heaving with passion, thighs moist and sweaty, bodies writhing together and summoning him to them.

He'd not been overly interested in watching women fuck together as a young man, though like all men, he wouldn't turn his back on a well-crafted lesbian seduction scene in a movie, his cock pressing uncomfortably in his pants, leaking pre-cum to be absorbed in his boxer shorts, the remainder of his fluid either deposited in Donna's sweet, moist cunt or jerked off into a tissue, disposed of and forgotten, if Donna wasn't in the mood.

"Be with us, taste our sex and passion, smell the bouquet of our cunts, feel our slick, hot wetness on you," his dream sapphic sirens had moaned, beckoning to him, his cock rising, a fierce urgency growing there. He'd inevitably awoke, sweating, and had to pause to collect himself, to reassure himself that there was only his beautiful spouse Donna sleeping beside him, that there was no bevy of hot, sexy lesbians hiding elsewhere in the room.

"Fuck," he'd murmured the first time it happened, and had rushed off to the bathroom to jerk off, his stiff wood almost painful in its arousal. There he'd at first imagined two beautiful girls fucking each other as he stroked his shaft, the finish coming so easily.

"Girls fucking, yeah that's pretty hot," he thought as he cleaned up, and then flushed the tissue away. He returned to bed.

"Everything okay, honey?" Donna asked drowsily, her eyes half closed.

"Yeah, just had to use the bathroom, go back to sleep," he'd responded. It was true, after all.

But he found the dreams reoccurring, almost night after night, and in the last week one of the fantasy women writhing in uninhibited sapphic sex, her fingers deep in another woman's pussy, had been his young wife Donna, her blue eyes heavy lidded with lust and passion, her brown bangs wet and plastered to her forehead as she spread her legs to allow another woman, this one anonymous, to eat out her cunt, Donna's voice raised almost to a shriek of pleasure.

"Oh fuck, yes, yesss, lick my pussy...fuck, I'm cumming, finger me again and again..." she'd groaned, just before he woke with a start, her dream body dissolving before him.

"I can't jerk off in the bathroom every night," Matt thought, after such an abrupt return to wakefulness. So he lay sleepless until morning, then jerked off in the solitude of his steamy shower, his thoughts on a moving image of Donna licking another woman's wet and eager pussy, her expression eager, her naked body sinuously writhing as she fingered herself while her tongue teased another woman's cunt.

Chapter 2

It soon became clear to Matt that he was developing a "problem." A growing enthusiasm for lesbian sex...and increasingly, involving his faithful, loving wife Donna.

"Kind of a weird obsession for me to develop," he thought, but the image of Donna undressing to reveal her beautiful naked body to another woman's delight, then doing all sorts of naughty things with her, had become a great source of masturbatory pleasure for Matt. Ironically, just as his sex drive was ramping up, Donna seemed to be cooling down, or at least not matching his increased suggestions for lovemaking.

"Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into you," she teased him about his pestering her for sex. "I guess it means you don't have a honey on the side, thank goodness," she'd say, but as it never really resulted in more sex he decided to cool the pressure on her, turning instead to jerking off whenever Donna was out of the house, and sometimes in the small restroom at work.

Matt assiduously avoided viewing the maid Caitlyn as a sex figure, since that hackneyed scenario of erotic stories - the husband, wife and maid triangle - would only lead to major trouble for him, and besides he did love Donna. There just didn't seem to be enough Donna to go around, what with her missing his hints about more play time together.

And for her part, Caitlyn was always modest and shy whenever he was around. He guessed that she might see him as something like a father figure and was always pleasant to her, and helpful if he sensed she needed something, like the time she first ran across the cameras in the Hopkins' Samsung refrigerator.

"Your fridge has telly?" she said, incredulous, a wry smile on her face. "Whatever for?"

Matt's face turned red. "So we can see what's inside."

"Isn't that what the handle's for?" she responded.

"Matt has to keep up with gadgets," Donna said as she passed the kitchen, and then shrugged.

"And is there a telly in my room?" asked Caitlyn. Matt was nonplussed.

"There will be," laughed Donna. Matt knew when he was defeated.

And there was, a 46 inch Visio was installed in the maid's quarters the very next day. A 'piped telly,' as Caitlyn termed cable TV.

Chapter 3

Since Donna seemed content with their love life being on a low simmer - too low for Matt's needs - he looked around for safe but satisfying substitutes for humping his wife. On a day when both Donna and Caitlyn were out, he got onto the Internet for relief, using the desktop Sony in their home office.

Matt Hopkins clicked on what had become his favorite porn site site with the initial enthusiasm with which his dick always supplied him.

"Fuck, been looking forward to this all day," he thought. Perusing the opening page of the pornographic video site telling him to leave if he was under 18 years of age (wink, wink), he moved on to the index page that seemed to go on forever, every possible sexual fetish and kink depicted by a small square representing an image of a video that contained that particular exciting and fun perversion.

"Fuck, there are some sick fucking people out there," he mused, making a mental note to check out some that were new to him. But for now, he was on a specific quest.

"Okay, looking for lesbian. But no old women, that's fucking gross. And no butch ones this time, that's too scary sometimes, especially the dykes with tattoos over every square inch of their bodies. Just need two sweet young women looking for a nice, pleasant sexual encounter, maybe with some pissing or something."

"Young lesbian friends eating cunt," the caption said, on the first sample shown under "lesbian."

"I'll give that a shot," he said, comfortable in his solitude and speaking out loud, since the girls, Donna and Caitlyn, and Donna's BFF Maribeth had been gone for the last ten minutes on an all day shopping trip. With Donna and Caitlyn gone, he had the house to himself.

Shucking off his jeans, and pushing his boxer shorts down his legs, he felt free at last, free of clothing on his already growing cock, and free to indulge his sexual needs without worrying about being caught. The pseudo leather of the lounger was cool on his naked ass. He already had a couple of tissues at hand to clean up the inevitable residue of his passion. He'd learned his lesson after a previous solitary jerk off party, when he'd forgotten the tissues and grabbed a sock to clean up his semen, the gooey white liquid seeming to go on forever, streaming down his cock and caught up in his black pubic bush.

The stressful moment had come when Caitlyn brought Donna the crusty sock while she was doing the laundry. She was befuddled by what it might be, and had sought out his wife for any special instructions.

"What on earth is this, Matt?' Donna had asked him, a quizzical expression on her face.

"Oh, that's...I stepped on some spilled mashed potatoes and it got all in my sock," he explained, extemporaneously creating a plausible scenario.

"We haven't had mashed potatoes this week," she reminded him.

"It was at work," he said, digging for something believable.

"You eat lunch at work in your socks?" she responded, with a bemused expression.

"You had to be there," he shrugged. "What's for dinner?"

His pulse had been racing as he tried to work his way out of his problem, but at least it had been a little excitement - outwitting Donna, that is. Jerking off itself was just...ho hum. If there were some way to make jerking off more exciting, now that would be revolutionary.

He put his right hand on his cock, still too soft for really good stroking, and thought, "Maybe I should use some of Donna's vegetable oil from the kitchen," then rejected the idea as being both too messy and taking too long, but he also filed the idea away for possible future use.

He clicked on the little triangle on the computer screen and was treated to the two women of about their early twenties pretending to study on one girl's bed, then launch into a conversation about whether one had ever thought about kissing a girl, then the action followed a predictable course, with clothes flying everywhere, kissing and mouths being applied to genitals in a very interesting way.

It was about halfway through this show, with Matt sawing away on his dick, that it struck him that "Janie," as one of the girls was named, looked an awful lot like Donna.

Much more so than when he had begun watching the video.

Perhaps it was something about the lighting in the girls' bedroom, or the camera angles of her face between the other girl's thighs, but he would swear that it was indeed his sweet and loving wife there, nude and eating pussy, and then licking that girl's brown asshole.

Well, as soon as he realized that, he imagined to himself that she was indeed Donna, and he was spying on his wife licking some regrettably plain girl's wet little pussy and nether hole. It was mere milliseconds after that thought that he shot a load much more copious than anything he'd shot before, even while fucking Donna herself.

This was a major revelation, and while he cleaned himself up, using only disposable items this time, he built on it, his cock not relapsing into its usual turtle like nature this time, but remaining semi-firm and, more importantly, his mind wasn't moving on to the football game coming up, but rather, "how fucking hot it would be if Donna really did eat a girl's twat."

"Goddamn, why did I never think of that before?" he thought, then out loud, "Yeah, my pure beautiful wife doing nasty things with another girl and enjoying it, losing control, cumming, her fucking twat shaking with the sheer ecstasy of cheating on me, and not just with a guy, but with another woman, That's fucking perverse!" But the thought didn't really seem that perverted to him.

When he looked down between his legs he wasn't surprised to see that his recently abused penis was coming back for more. "Fuck yeah," he breathed, feeling as though he'd discovered that oysters really do make you hard.

Except that this aphrodisiac was his alone, and free, to boot.

This time he did go for the vegetable oil, and a bunch of paper towels, and took his time picking out another video. After an extensive search he found, "Maid seduces young wife." The women in this both looked pretty attractive, and if he made an effort he could easily pretend that the wife, "Miranda," was actually Donna, wearing a blonde wig.

He pretended that he had set up a hidden camera, and was catching the whole thing on video, and now watching it for the first time. Which of course, he was.

"Mrs. Adams," the maid said. "I didn't know what to do with this...do you want it washed?"

"What's that, Kathy?" the Donna lookalike said, looking up from a notebook where she had apparently been entering numbers. Grocery bills, maybe.

"What is that?" Donna (as Matt was now thinking of the actress) asked the pretty black-haired servant. "Is that a bra?"

"Yes ma'am, I think so," responded Kathy, now starting to hold the cloth object as if it had just started to set off a radiation meter.

"Let me see that," said Donna, curtly, the tiniest bit of steel entering her voice. She took the proffered object, then held it out as if she intended to place it on Kathy's chest. Kathy took a small step backward, aghast.

"It's not mine," she protested quickly.

"That is certainly not mine either," Donna muttered. "I wouldn't be caught dead in something so cheap...and it's a full cup size bigger than me."

She stared over at Kathy. "Where exactly was it? Take me there."

Like a uniformed police officer leading the great Hercule Poirot (or in this case, Miss Marple) to the site where the body was first found by a passerby, Kathy led Donna into the bedroom where Mr. and Mrs. Adams presumably slept, and pointed under the bed.

"Right there," she said, her eyes wide and a little frightened.

"That's my side of the bed!" hissed Donna. "That rat bastard's cheating on me!"

Then she began pacing in a tight circle, while Kathy the cute maid stood to the side, awaiting the soliloquy.

"He did it again, and he swore he would never, never look at another woman. Right here in our bed! He doesn't love me, he never did!" At this, Donna began to cry, or at least looked like she was.

Kathy stepped forward hesitantly, then out of the instinct that all women must have, took Donna in her arms, Donna entering her embrace and sobbing on her shoulder.

"There, there, it's alright, Mrs. Adams...Donna," she said, consoling Matt's wife, patting her back softly and rubbing her hand in little circles on her back.

"All men are like that, ma'am" the sweet and pretty servant said. "They don't deserve our affection."

"You're right, Kathy," Donna said. "If men didn't have cocks, we women would never give them the time of day, and they don't even deserve our attention...and affection."

"There are other...better things out there than men and their filthy little dingles, ma'am. And no cheating or leaving dirty laundry around either." She looked meaningfully at Donna.

"What do you mean, Kathy?" said Donna, confusion on her face.

"Nobody knows a woman like another woman...Donna," whispered Kathy, and as awareness dawned on Donna's face, Kathy leaned in to kiss her. Dumfounded, Donna didn't stop her but didn't react in any immediately perceptible way, Kathy's full and heavily lipsticked lips pressing against Donna's, both women's mouths slowly opening and their tongues tentatively caressing.

Matt was glad that he'd decided to use the oil at this juncture - he would have rubbed himself raw before they even got their clothes off otherwise.

"Oh, Kathy," Donna moaned. "You're so...different from my husband," she said.

"In so many ways," replied Kathy. "Get on the bed." Donna complied, now under Kathy's feminine spell.

"Let's get these clothes off you," Kathy said, already halfway down the buttons on Donna's pink blouse, then smoothly stripping it off her, leaving Donna in a black lace demi-cup bra that showed off her beautiful tits.

"Oh my god, I love your tits!" exclaimed Kathy, her hands caressing Donna's bare shoulders then briefly tracing over her breasts. "The rest of your body must be so darling, too," Kathy whispered, fiddling at Donna's skirt, the garment quickly loosening as she pulled it off her hips, revealing her matching black lace bikini panties.

"Oh, and I can see your beautiful slit, baby, your pussy is so wet and excited," Kathy cooed, as Donna laid back, her legs parted. Kathy immediately pounced, her face between Donna's thighs, kissing each one for a few seconds, then planting a wet one right where Matt figured Donna's clitoris must be.

"Oh my god," moaned Donna. "Yes, kiss me there," she said, as she considerately pulled back Kathy's long black hair from her thigh, where it would otherwise have blocked Matt's view of the woman kissing his wife right on her cunt.

"I hope she pulls down her panties," Matt thought."I'm getting fucking close."

"Let me just remove this little cloth," Kathy giggled, pulling the black strip of fabric from his wife's pussy, revealing the beautiful pink and red valley of pleasure that he got to see in the light all too infrequently.