My Wife is Dating Him: Hotwife Erotica

I heard the door open three hours later. I rolled off the bed and almost fell over. Tequila is a serious ass-kicker.

I stumbled out into the short hall to the living room.

Alissa was there, looking beautiful… and ravaged.

My blood boiled and I spat, ‘What have you been doing?’

Her lipstick was smeared.

She shut the door and locked it. ‘Nothing.’

‘Bullshit.’

She frowned at me. ‘You’re drunk.’

I swayed next to the couch. ‘I am not.’

Her shoulders drooped and she came to me. Her hand reached up and stroked my cheek. ‘I’m sorry, Enrique. I had to go. I had to know.’

Her sensitivity confused me. ‘What did you do?’

‘We talked. He told me about the divorce. It’s going to be final in four months. The court appearances are over.’

‘Woo—whoo—whoopty fucking d-doo.’

She hugged me fiercely. ‘Don’t you understand I love you?’

The thing was, it radiated from her like heat from a roaring fireplace. I hugged her back. ‘Why did you go?’

She turned her face to me and her breath was hot with passion. ‘I had to know, is all.’ She squeezed me. ‘Let’s go to bed.’

That was her subtle signal she wanted to have sex.

How could she go out and meet a man and then want to have sex? Did it not turn out well? Did it turn her on?

I was angry, but I loved her.

She pulled my arm. ‘Come on.’

I followed Alissa into the bedroom and watched her undress. I asked, ‘Why did you even go?’

She dropped her shoulders and sighed. ‘We had a thing for a year. It was wonderful…’

‘So?’

She came to me and began unbuttoning my shirt. ‘I just wanted to hear and understand all that had gone on with his divorce.’

Was I being overly dominating? Oppressive? I took some deep breaths and let her strip my shirt off. ‘What was his story?’

She began working on my belt. ‘They divorced. It’s final four months from now. He had promised me a year ago he would leave her for me, but he didn’t.’

‘So when you disappear, he gets desperate?’ I might have been slurring my words, but I knew what was what.

‘Maybe, I don’t know. But the first thing he did after the court appearance was text me.’ She slid my pants down.

My cock firmed, despite my inebriation and aggravation.

She pulled down my boxers. ‘Come to bed, Enrique. Make love to me.’

The tension in my chest dissolved into fragments of worry that held no power over the reality of her presence in our bedroom. My cock firmed completely, standing straight out and throbbing.

She gripped it, smiled, and pulled me to the bed.

I climbed over her on the bed and got ready to enter her. I stopped, fixated on her lips. That’s right; they’re smeared. I asked, ‘Why is your lipstick smeared?’

She sighed. ‘He wanted to kiss me to remember what it was like, so I let him.’

‘You let a man kiss you?’

‘He wasn’t just any man – he had kissed me before. I let him.’

I blew out a breath in exasperation.

She reached up and gripped my biceps. ‘I love you Enrique. I’m right here and I’m your wife.’

I lowered myself onto her, watching her face. She genuinely looked like she was ready to make love. I entered her with a thrust, pushing my cock into her very wet pussy. ‘You’re wet.’

‘I was thinking of you.’

I laughed and humped into her. ‘While you were out with this Sawyer?’

‘Okay, I’ll admit he awakened memories in me…’

I fucked her hard, driving my cock in with vicious thrusts. ‘Did he try to convince you to fuck?’

She shuddered under me in desire. ‘Yes, he did…’

I gasped as an onrush of lust swelled my erection. ‘And is it all done now? He’s going back to where he came from—’

‘No, he wants to meet again. Tomorrow night. And I’m going to go meet him.’

I blew my load in her in a rage of self-pity and doubt.