AUTHOR'S NOTE:
For all who have been waiting a long time for this my apologies, my life got a bit busy. Fair warning for the inevitable horde of morons: This is a work of fiction. No, she is not my actual wife. For those who seem to confuse the Loving Wives section with Romance -- you might want to give this a skip (but if you want to read it anyway and get offended, leaving shrill insults in the comments, be my guest). For new comers to this nascent series, I would recommend reading part one first.
*
It was a surreal drive home. I was physically drained, the rush of our quick hard fuck had dissipated and my body was feeling languid and relaxed, yet a hard rock of excitement was bubbling up in my the pit of my stomach, enough to start breathing life back into my cock, as I contemplated the exquisite site of my just-fucked wife sat beside me. She was decadently disheveled; the thin strapless summer dress, bright red and a size too small, clung tight to her body, still sweat-slick from our car park session. Her long raven hair was hanging loose around her small pretty face and there was a faint trace of my cum across her high, rosy cheekbones where she had run my spent cock across her face when licking me clean. As I took our exit off the motorway the though ran through me again, like a shiver.
She is full of my cum
.
Each traffic light heralded a heady mixture of torturous delay and breathless anticipation. We had already had a trucker, bald and fat, leer openly from his elevated vantage point down to our low profile sports car, staring at the bra-less cleavage of my blue eyed wife. I had expected Katie to tut in disapproval, to wind up the tinted window and pass a comment about how disgusting truckers were. Instead she had just looked over to me smiled wickedly and said
"Looks like that was £500 well spent, even the apes seem to like it!" My sudden and confusing spike of desire left me speechless and unable to process the price, which was just as well. Nothing kills the mood faster than a man choking to death trying to say "How much?" Although in truth I was distracted by something more astonishing. Katie, grinning, pulled the hem of her dress higher, exposing vast tracts of her flawless thighs. I shot her a questioning and admiring look, eyebrow raised and she laughed and blew me a kiss then pointed to the road, which I had been ignoring.
The next traffic lights drew near. Who might draw alongside? My heart was hammering and my cock began to stiffen. Jesus, when did random strangers staring at my wife suddenly become so exciting? When did my wife become this woman sat next to me? A glance in the mirror told me that a people carrier was pulling up alongside. My hands were trembling. The car pulled just ahead of ours, the driver was a middle aged plump woman who did not even glance in our direction. Katie glanced over to me and pouted, which dispelled my disappointment instantly as it was a clear signal
Yes, I am playing this game
.
Tires squealed in my rush to reach the next set of lights, the last set before home. As we sat there we grinned at each other stupidly. A grey Volvo pulled up. Inside was an a grey haired man that I instantly recognized as Peter, who was the director of the local dramatic society that Katie had been involved in. I remembered Katie muttering something to me about auditions for a new production. I sow Katie go stock still with shock at recognizing him. Peter seemed to take an age to look over, his head swining in slow motion and his eyes resting on Katie's legs, widening, and then tracking up to her chest then finally her face, which had now gone bright red in embarrassment. After a long moment Peter visibly started as the shock of recognition hit him. I expected him to flush with embarrassment at his obvious lechery but to his credit he kept his cool, smiled and waved at Katie, who could do nothing but wave back. As we pulled away Katie dropped her head in her hands and I couldn't resist adding:
"Bet that makes your next audition easier."
She barked a laugh and playfully punched me in the arm. She was embarrassed, but excited - which was interesting. My cock was now rock hard, pressing uncomfortably against my trousers. I shifted in my seat and Katie glanced down, noticing the bulge. She smirked and reached over to squeeze it, sliding closer and whispering in my ear, rubbing my cock as she spoke.
"Did you see how he looked at me? Before he recognized me I was just some hot meat for him to fuck. Now when he sees me that image will always be there, lurking behind his eyes. The fact that he has eye fucked me".
I moaned, delighted at the shocking, lurid, language coming from my prim wife. Too soon, our drive way appeared and we pulled up.
Once in the house I struggled up the stairs with the shopping and Katie made her way to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of merlot and a lager for me. I could hear the party next door, the faint sound of classic rock mixed with murmurings of conversation. Glancing out of the window I could see John, back from the shopping center, talking to a tall well built young man who was tending the smoking barbeque -- that must have been Eric. A could make out a few other people, none of whom were familiar. I cantered down the stairs and took the cold beer from my sexy wife's hand, noticing that she had already pounded down her wine. As I gulped down I felt her small hands once again wrap around my stiff cock. I grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her face in for a long kiss and felt one of her hands sneak into my boxers and cup my balls.
"Shall we skip this party then?" I asked, my hands roaming down her back. She sighed.
"No, we better not, you know how John has been dying to show Eric off to us." I groaned in frustration and Katie grinned, a glint in her eye. "Tell you what; I'll make it up to you. Naughty Katie can stay out to play for a while longer."
