Getting His Trophy Wife

This little incident started at a party where there were a lot of good people. And then there was the host and hostess: Brad, the quintessential jerk and his wife, the trophy wife, who was really okay - when she wasn't being the complete screaming bitch.

I used to work for Brad's firm and had the good sense to leave it before either I killed him or I got fired. He, to this day, thinks I like him and I, for my own reasons, never corrected that false assumption.

Brad was throwing this shindig and it was his way of trying to show everyone how important and wealthy he was. It was for his associates (employees) and friends, real and imagined - probably mostly imagined, and was in the ballroom of a hotel. To a large extent, I think most of the people here were here to party with each other, have a good time, and have as little to do with Brad as they could get away with and not be obvious about avoiding him. That was certainly my case anyway. Not surprisingly, he and Keri (the trophy wife) showed up late: I assumed they were supposed to be making an entrance of some kind.

I only knew Keri well enough to know that I would love to get her in the sack and sure as hell wouldn't ever want to live with her; you see, she had a bit of a temper. I had seen her screaming-bitch act on more than one occasion; fortunately, I wasn't the object of her tirade on any of those occasions. Between Brad's money and contacts, if he felt she had been wronged, he could make someone's life miserable - something Keri traded on heavily when she wasn't getting her way.

In they came, Keri acting every bit the part, smiling and walking with one foot in front of the other like a model. I don't think she had a brain in her head, but she had, in her own way, done well by marrying Brad. She had on a little, and I do mean little, black dress cut way too low to ever permit a bra – that V in the front went down to just below her belly button. Yes her little navel was pierced, and no, that large diamond in it wasn't paste. She was short and wasn't overly endowed, but that worked out well with this dress. She had a nice ass too, and the dress ended just below it. Now and then there was just a hint of stocking tops below the hem of her dress. Yea, it was that short. At least I hoped it was a stocking top that was showing and not part of pantyhose. I had to wonder what she was going to do if she ever had to sit (Shoot a serious beaver?) or bend over (You would be able to tell if she had panties on from the top.). Brad was known to like her dressed in outfits like that - so everyone would know what a sexy little woman he had for a wife. Note that that sounds a little possessive, which is about the way Brad looked upon his wife – as if he owned her; she was his possession. After watching her for a minute or so, I decided that she was putting on a front and that she wasn't at all happy.

Something like ten minutes after they had made their entrance, I was over at the bar getting a refill when she came over for a drink. "Hi Keri," I said politely. "You're looking good tonight."

"Hi," she said curtly, and then motioned to the bartender. "Scotch," she said as he got to her.

"Any particular brand?" he asked.

"Expensive! Uh, a single malt - Glenlivet, and no ice!"

Oh, I guess she was in just about as good a mood as I had suspected. "How're you tonight?" I inquired casually, and not expecting much of a pleasant response.

"Pissed. I really don't want to be here," she said curtly without really looking at me.

Well, she didn't bite my head off. That was a good start. "Really? Why not? I thought you liked parties, and this is starting off okay."

"My husband's a louse," she said downing her drink. Setting the glass down hard, she motioned the bartender for another.

I though of asking her if she just now figured that out, but thought better of it. "Oh, how's that?" I asked feigning real interest. If she were to list all the things that made him a louse, I could be here all night – and that's just the things I knew about.

"He just is," she said, finally turning and looking at me.

Ah, the short list. "Pretty general description. You looked happy enough when you came in with him." I lied. I had already decided that she hadn't looked the least bit happy.

"I guess I act well. I have to. He's the one with the money, not me."

Ah, money! I knew she was with him for a reason. I wasn't going to tell her to keep her day job, whatever that was, because she couldn't act to save her life. "Well, he doesn't seem to be short of money. So, what's money got to do with being a louse?"

"It's not the money. I think," she said after a minute and downed the next drink before continuing, "he's got himself a little honey on the side; probably some little slut who works for him."

"He has you and needs someone else?"

"Maybe. Looks like it," she said holding up the empty shot glass and turning it with her fingers. "Well, I think so anyway."

Interesting. She was really pissed at him for having a little honey on the side, but really wasn't sure that he had one in the first place. "So, what do you plan on doing? Dumping his ass? Getting the big D?"

"I'm not a blonde in case you hadn't noticed! There's more to life and marriage than just sex. I happen to enjoy spending his money. Maybe I'll just have a little someone else myself. Either that or take up spending his money as a hobby. His little honey could really cost him!"

The bartender came by and, without a word or gesture from her, poured another drink for her.

"I'm available if you're looking for a fling!" I quickly volunteered, not thinking for one second that she was either serious or would take me up on it. "I think I could take your mind off him for a while." She may not be blond, but that's an attitude, not a hair color; she was certainly acting blond. Any woman that looked as good as she did could pick up some other rich bastard any day of the week. Okay, she would have to change her attitude a bit and loose that screaming-bitch entry on her resume, but otherwise, trading up would be easy enough.

She looked me over rather seductively, and said, "I'll think about it." For the first time tonight she sounded happy instead of pissed off. She gave me a wink, slammed down another drink, and was off to mingle with the guests.

If she kept drinking like that, she was going to be blitzed in no time. Fucking her would be fun, assuming she was serious in the first place. She was great looking and married to one real jerk. You might call it a revenge fuck - I'd just love to fuck Brad's wife, no matter who she was. Hell, I wouldn't mind knocking Keri up just for the fun of it. Brad would just love that! Somehow pregnant and trophy wife just don't seem to go together. How about a trophy wife with stretch marks Brad? Yea, that'd be the ticket! However, I really don't want to be a daddy and I would sure hate to be the kid who ended up with Keri as a mother. But, putting a little hot sperm into her and seeing that tight little belly swell would be something! I got her out of my mind and went off to visit a few friends. They were after all, why I had come here in the first place.

There was a dance floor and the DJ was playing a lot of Techno, so most of the dancers were crowded together and having a great time. I was out there quite a bit, either just mingling or dancing with a few female friends. As the hour got late, the liquor had an influence, and the dancers got a little nastier, we were all having a great time. There was some seriously dirty dancing going on out there and I was right in the middle of it. There were at least two women I had been dancing with who were here alone; with whom I was actually thinking I might have a chance of doing something with other than dancing tonight – at least they were giving me every indication that they were having the same delicious carnal thoughts I was having. It wasn't late, but I wanted to make my move early; I was thinking it was about time to hit on one of them when little Keri bumped into me, more like crashed into me, on the dance floor, not looking exactly sober. Not saying a word, she quickly stuffed something soft and dark into my pants pocket and kept on dancing right in front of me. Intrigued, I reached into my pocked and felt a little flimsy nylon and elastic; I didn't have to take it out and look at it, I knew what it was. Apparently she had thought my proposal over and this was her way of taking me up on it. I liked it! It seems she had just stuffed her skimpy little panties into my pocket. Which meant of course, that there was absolutely nothing on under that little black dress except - her?

"Somewhere here?" I asked as quietly as I could.

She just nodded and kept dancing very close to me and brushing up against me frequently.

Maybe she got a room for the night – unbeknownst to her loving husband. I gave her the "follow me" sign with one finger and slowly left the dance floor. At a discreet distance, I noticed she was following me. Good. I didn't want to attract any attention. I wanted to nail her and good, but didn't want any rumors, an audience, or a jealous (and possibly unfaithful) husband finding us. I worked my way over to the bar. We could decide what to do there and no one would think anything of me talking to her there. The fact that there was actually a conspiracy going on was beside the point.

"Got any condoms on you?" she quietly asked, her speech slightly slurred. She might have been drunk, but she had enough wits about her to keep it very quiet.

"Nope, but I can get one." At least I hoped I could.

"Get two. I'm really hot - and pissed."

"Okay, and meet you where?"

"Top floor of this flop house."

Well, flop house it wasn't, but anyway, "What's up there?" I asked. I wondered if she had procured a room for this little tryst. She certainly seemed to be planning ahead.

"The maids' closet and me. Don't worry, it's a big one."

"Okay, give me five minutes."

"Right," she said and downed yet another drink.

I was hoping she could see well enough to find the maid's closet! She was really getting sloshed. Her husband was probably going to be pissed that his little trophy wife was this drunk the next time he ran into her. He liked to keep up appearances, and a trashed wife was really going to ruin his evening if he saw her.

This was a reasonably classy hotel, so there weren't going to be condom machines in the men's room. Then it occurred to me that they had vending machines by the gift shop. With a little luck, okay maybe a lot of luck, they would have them in there. Well, I found the vending machines, but they were a little too G-rated for that. One last possibility - I approached the concierge. "Any idea where I might purchase a few condoms at this hour?"

"One moment sir," he said and vanished into one of the hotel offices. Ya gotta love a good concierge; they can get you just about anything at any hour of the day or night.

I slipped a ten dollar bill out of my wallet and into my pocket in case he actually came back with something of interest. A moment later he returned with something in his white gloved hand and discretely handed them to me. It was almost as if he had anticipated this sort of thing.

"Have a good evening sir," he said.

"Thanks," I said, "I just might." With that I slipped him the ten and headed for the elevator. I assumed the "maid's closet" wasn't going to be that hard to find. But, I had to wonder; don't they usually lock that room? I was curious to know why she wanted the condoms. If she was pissed at her husband, she probably wouldn't be putting out for him tonight, so someone else's cum in her wouldn't be noticed. But if she wasn't protected, as in on the pill in one form or another, that might be another matter. Not being terribly fond of her and having no use for him, I decided it was time for a nefarious event since more than likely she simply wasn't protected. I checked what the concierge had given me and found that is was six condoms: two ribbed with a reservoir tip, two plain, and two plain but with a reservoir tip. The ribs were supposed to be for the woman's pleasure – something I wasn't all that interested in tonight; ordinarily yes, but not with Keri. As for the reservoir tips, well, I had no use for that margin of safety. I opened one of the plain non-reservoir tipped ones, and taking my pen knife, put a little slit in it about an inch from the tip. I made it a small vertical slit so it wouldn't tear any more with all the in and out activity I was anticipating. Most of my genetic material would stay in the condom, but a small amount would escape into her - maybe just enough. If I put it on with that little slit on the underside of my cock, she wouldn't see it.

The elevator finally deposited me some twenty floors up in the air. Now, where was this closet? A quick trip down the hall one way looked less than promising. Down the hall in the other direction and I ran into that little closet fairly close to the elevator – it figures. The door certainly had a keyed handle but I tried it and found it unlocked - with Keri inside. "Don't they normally lock this room?" I asked.

"Yea, but I leaned over kinda far, slipped the concierge fifty, and magic happened. You got condoms right?"

I'll bet he would have done it for a lot less, I thought. One look down the front of her dress – with a view clear to her panty-free pussy - and he probably would have done it for free. "Yea, I got them; you afraid your husband will find traces of someone else leaking out of you?"

"Not really. That bastard's not getting any from me tonight. I'm not protected and it's my fertile time of the month. He got snipped so it's not a problem with him. Showing up preggers might present a few little teensy problems," she said patting her tummy. "Anyway, I haven't got all night and I'm hot, so let's get with it!" She slipped the straps of her little black dress off her shoulders and let it slide silently to the floor.

Wow! She was good looking - and there wasn't a hair to be found on her from the neck down. No pantyhose, those were thigh-high stocking tops I had seen glimpses of earlier. She was gorgeous. Firm nice tits with deliciously long hard nipples, tight little areolas, a nice firm flat little tummy, and if I wasn't mistaken, that was a large clit peaking out between her swollen hairless pussy lips. Christ, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I slipped out of my clothes as fast as I could.

Meanwhile, Keri had taken a number of bath towels from the shelf and arranged them on the floor in a form of a narrow bed. While doing that she had been bending over, giving me a wonderful view of her very naked little ass. She laid down on them and spread her inviting legs wide. "How do you feel about eating a girl?" she asked. "My clit really need a nice hard tongue on it." She ran a hand between her legs and over her clit, making it stand out even more. "Don't you feel like licking this?" she asked, toying with her wet swollen clit.

I didn't say anything, just got down between those sexy legs and got to work. Her clit was just a large as I thought it was - one I could really have a good time with, and much larger than any other woman I had ever eaten. I started pleasing her and teasing her. She was really hot and was going to get off quickly, but I made her wait, wait until she was begging to get off. I would get her close and then slow down and lick and caress other parts of her pussy or suck on her swollen inner lips until she calmed down a little.

"Oh fuck," she finally moaned, "make me cum okay? I really wanna come on your face. I really like this, but I can't take this any longer. I wanna cum. I wanna cum so bad. I wanna cum all over your face. Just get me off and then put your nice hard cock inside me okay?"

I wanted to be inside her too, so I finally went for her clit and kept my tongue there, working on that gorgeous large swollen clit. I was really having fun with that big clit. It wasn't long before she got off, quietly thank God, but nonetheless got off, and it appeared to be a long good cum. I was just grateful that she kept it down and didn't wake the entire floor with her screaming. As drunk as she was, I could see her doing that too. I lapped up the tasty sex juices now leaking out of her. She really tasted fresh and clean. Old Brad hadn't had her any time lately.

"Oh damn you do that well," she finally said catching her breath. "My darling husband thinks a few licks in the general vicinity of my pussy ought to do it."

So I guess that means Brad wasn't that hot in bed. I got the condom package out and pretended that I had just opened it. Being careful to get the little slit on the underside of the head of my cock, I sipped it on and unrolled it down the length of my shaft. Now I moved over her and guided it to her wet entrance. As I shoved and it slid into her, I realized that not only was she really wet, but she was tighter than any woman I had ever been inside! She was really tight. I was going to get off in no time if I wasn't careful. I slowly slid my hard cock all the way into her incredibly tight little love tunnel. I pulled on her hips and sank it into her until I could just feel the tip touch her cervix. "Wow you're tight," I whispered.

"Thanks! Exercise baby, exercise. My husband likes me nice and tight."

I think it had more to do with genetics that exercise, but she sure was tight and I was pretty sure she worked out quite a bit. Brad has a piece like this around with her hot sexy body and as tight as she was and he's fooling around getting a little strange stuff? Well, to each his own! He was an asshole and there had been hints over the years that he thought he was a bit of a stud, so I guess it fits. Well, I was going to enjoy his tight little wife. I started moving in and out of her, going all the way in till our pubic bones touched, and then sliding slowly out until just the head was still inside her hot cunt. I looked down at her flat little tummy as I slid back into her again deep enough that I nearly touched her cervix and wondered what that tummy would be like all swollen up with a baby inside. I wondered what it would be like to fuck her all swollen up like that too.

"Faster, harder!" she hissed. "I want you to really fuck me, not play with me. I want to feel you cum inside me; that's what really gets me off."

I started going faster, and as I did, her little ass came off the towels, her sexy stockinged legs wrapped around me, and she met me stroke for stroke. She was really good at this fucking business. She sure as hell didn't just lay there and expect the guy to do all the work. She was so rowdy and randy that I slipped out a couple of times until I got used to just how far to come out. It wasn't long before I was ready to cum - with that tight little cunt squeezing my cock and her going at me the way she was, there was just no holding off. Finally I got to the point of no return and felt my cum start deep inside and rush up my cock and explode inside her. Thick spurt after spurt of it shot out of the end of my cock and filled that "defective" condom. It went on and on - I knew I had to be leaking some cum into her hot little pussy. I was putting too much cum into her little pussy to not have some leak out. She was really taking my squirting cock into her just as far as she could get it too. I just hoped there wouldn't be enough of my cum in her that it would start leaking out enough that she would notice. Now, maybe some of those little swimmers would find a place to do the most good - or damage, depending on your point of view.

Just as she said, she got off again with me cumming hard and fast inside her. She wasn't quite a quiet this time and anyone passing by the closet would have no doubt that someone was getting laid in here. She got even tighter when she got off. That little pussy of hers really took hold of my throbbing cock and it felt like she was milking the cum out of me. Her cum lasted every bit as long as mine did, and then some.