As this is a sequel series to Tamed, I highly recommend you read the 13 chapters before of that series before this :)
I am making this one third person rather than first person, it's easier to write and is far better to read! As well as this, expect there to be non-smut chapters scattered within the story!
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WARNING: This story will contain strong themes of cheating and cuckoldry.
The radiant sun was setting over the line of towering suburban palaces, shooting out a bright orange glow that complimented the purple sky to create a sprawling sight of beauty and elegance. Within a large, cream carpeted master bedroom ordained with expensive pieces of art and sculptures, Alanah Goodwin sat upon her makeup desk, softly tapping her cheek with her glossy fingernails. Her attention was turned away from adding the finishing touches to her makeup, and was distracted by the pretty view, she stared out of the window behind the rounded mirror to stare at the beautiful purple and orange sky. It gave her a sense of peace, and slightly relaxed her stress tainted body.
It entranced her, wiped her mind of thoughts. The sky, the amazing, beautiful sky. Her bright, glittering aquamarine eyes lingered on a cloud that slowly soared through the canvas. Small and grey, it twisted and turned like a flicking flame would with a breath of wind. She couldn't help but see herself as the cloud. An ever-changing thing traversing through empty space, destined to go forward. Like the cloud, she could not go back; despite it being the one thing in the world she wished she could do.
Her trance like state was put to an abrupt end when a light rattle of knuckles hit one of the doors in the room, the one directly behind her. She shot up into a straight-backed posture, softly rubbing the dregs of her heavy black eye shadow she shaded onto her amazing eyes, making the unique and natural colour pop. From the door, a slip of light entered through the opening crack, and a moment after a head emerged, looking over at her with a look of concern. "Babe? You ready? You said you were going to be five minutes almost half an hour ago."
"Be right there, babe." Alanah answered. Looking at the buzz cut man of muscle and brawn through the mirror in front of her Alanah pursed her puffy, glossed lips and pulled the corners up into a smile. It was the same fake look of excitement she gave him the first time he set up these nights; a night which she only agreed to do to take her mind off wandering thoughts of what life would have been like if she wasn't there in the rich part of town, all paid for by her husband's inherited wealth.
"It's just that he's getting impatient. You know how these kinds of guys get when they know you're here."
"John...I'll be down in a sec. I just need to make sure I'm all set, 'kay?" She mused with a melodic voice, a voice which John could not help but grin after listening regardless of how stern she made it. He nodded and softly closed the door, and as he did, her fake smile died a death and was replaced with a forlorn one. Alanah huffed, and slipped herself off her comfortable cushioned chair and onto her bare feet. "Definitely not him who's getting over excited... Seriously he always pretends he isn't giddy as a fucking child on Christmas when one of his friends fucks me." She sighed, and rubbed her forehead with her forearm, softly gliding her smooth skin across her head before she combed her fingers though her long, incredibly silky dark orange hair that hung loose down her body, tickling the back dimples of her tight back which led into the swell of her perfectly massive ass that was sculpted by gods to the upmost perfection.
She examined herself in the rounded mirror, stepping back so her hourglass figure fit into its confines. She wore a purple silk gown, smooth and silky to the touch. It was tied tightly around her thin waist, pushing her heavy breasts up into a cleavage that tantalisingly exposed the lacy edges of her purple lingerie that made her tits bulge and spill over the cups. She turned to a profile, slipping one of her long, creamy legs out of the slit of her long gown, softly tugging upward at the slit in the gown to expose more of her thick thigh that naturally rubbed against the other. She couldn't help but smile. Thirty-One years of age and just as much of a stunner as she was in her twenties. Possibly even more so, given that she barely aged a day since that time five years prior. "I wonder if he's changed at all..." She muttered to herself.
The last moments she spent in her room was spent making the last few adjustments of her uniform, debating if she should take the tarnished gold marital band from her ring finger; it was heavy on her hand as it always was, even though it fit perfectly on her slender finger. In the end she decided to keep it on after a short mental debate. She knew John liked it when she kept it on when she held another man in front of him. A good wife makes sure her husband gets the most out of his cuckolding fetish...
Her stomach turned the more she thought about it, another week, another boy's night in. She wondered if this time his 'friend' was someone he knew, or some horny stranger that he found on the internet. Either way, she did not care. It would be over soon, and it would be out of her mind at least until her loving husband told her when another man will come over for a date. It wasn't all bad, she rationalised as she exited her room, shutting the door with a soft click. At times she looked passed how they treated her like a doll instead of a human being, and focused on the slight glimmer of the tingles she used to feel all over the intimate parts of her well-crafted body. It was rare to feel it, but there were a few men over the last five years of this arrangement who almost measured up to her standard. Never enough for her though, as far as she was concerned, there was only one man who was.
As she softly stepped across the wide hallway upon the second floor of their majestic home, Alanah heard the muffled voices of banter and the hiss of beer bottles being removed of their caps. The voices were energetic, excitable, impatiently awaiting her grand entrance. Quietly she stepped, feeling the way her thighs rubbed together as she swayed her hips in a way that she deemed natural since puberty. Her hair swished and tickled her ass through the purple silk; something that was common for one with such long hair. Often, she thought of cutting it down, but there was something about how she could constantly feel her silky flames stroke her rear end which made her feel good.
The voices grew louder the closer she came, and the closer she came, the more her fake persona of Hotwife overtook her. Each step she took down the long, winding stairs the more her eyes grew smoky; with the black glittery makeup which shaded the lids of her eyes making her look hungrier for sex than she usually did.
Before she entered the wide opening into the living room, she listened intently to the voice of tonight's date. A deep voice, a voice the old Alanah would have dropped to a deep squat in front of their crotch regardless of who it belonged to. She recognised it. A man John knew quite well; Desmond. She rolled her eyes, the guy who she always noticed staring at her chest and rear end whenever she was in the same room as him. She figured that giving her that kind of worshipping attention warranted her to turn on the sexy just a little bit for him. So, she fixed one last part of her attire before she slithered up against the doorway of the well-lit living room. She pressed her wide hip against the wall, cupping her hands together in front of her chest to make her biceps press her huge bust together. "What are you boys talking about? Sports?" She asked with a flirty twist to her voice.
Like an actor whom rehearsed the same scene endlessly, the red head averted the wide, enthusiastic gaze of her husband who sat on the single white leather chair, instead maintaining a flirty stare at the man on the sofa which stood behind a glass coffee table that housed half drunk beers and a full glass of white wine. The man turned his entire upper body around to see over the sofa to regard her, whistling a deep tone of awe for her. His dark skin contrasted the creamy white colouring of the room which Alanah designed when they moved in. White was her favourite, after all...
"Holy moly John...You get to sleep next to all this every night? Lucky bastard..." He slithered his tongue out to coat his lips. Alanah rose a thin brow at him, pouting her lips even more as she deliberately made sure to linger on the tight powder blue shirt he wore. He was like John, a gym freak; muscles upon muscles, a man she once would have let pin her to any sort of flat surface and dominate her for hours on end. Now, behind the sultry smile she had stuck to her pretty face was nothing more than an unimpressed shrug of the shoulders.
As John chucked with Desmond, Alanah glided across the room like a graceful swan. She walked in such a way that the gown she wore twisted and wrapped around her slim, yet incredibly thick body, allowing them both to admire how her hourglass figure looked being wrapped with expensive fabrics. With it she allowed one of her long legs to slip out from the gap in the middle of the gown, teasing him and her husband close beside him. Desmond leaned back and extended his arm out over the free space beside him, spreading his legs out in a display of himself to her. She casually neglected to follow the silent request, and went for a more direct approach for the pleasure of John. Planting her ass on his thigh with a hard drop she wrapped one leg over the other and let her gown expose them whilst she slid her fingers between each other around the back of his neck. He sighed, and confidently dragged his rough hand up her leg into the gown to rest on her smooth upper leg.
"As good as it gets...Damn John your wife is a killer!"
