1
M ark the neighbor in my living room . . .
My old friend Thomas at the downtown Hilton . . .
My two bosses , Franklin and Stephen, at Franklin’s mansion in the suburbs . . .
Those three waiters , Henry, Richard, and Jackson, at our favorite restaurant, Hogarth’s . . .
My head spins as I review the history of our marriage over the past year. I’ve now watched Cynthia with seven different men, and I’ve joined in each time. The heights of ecstasy we hit were unparalleled, beyond our wildest dreams. But all of it came at a price.
At first the price wasn’t much. So we cut Mark the neighbor out of our lives after that first ménage, when he took my wife from behind, pouring his cum deep inside her asshole while I came in her mouth. Then I made sure my old friend Thomas was no longer welcome into our lives. No problem there. But then we started to up the ante.
The first time I saw Cynthia get taken by two men, it was my two bosses who filled her from top and bottom, front and behind, above and below until I could no longer hold back and forced myself in there, once again pushing my cock into my wife’s mouth as two men fucked her raw. The rush was incredible, but I paid for it with my job, writing my resignation letter the very next day.
Watching Cynthia with the waiters, my wife getting airtight on that table as those three young men filled every hole . . . man, that was worth it. Too bad we’ll never go to Hogarth’s again, but there are plenty of good restaurants in town.
So yeah, it’s all been worth it. I think so and I know Cynthia does. But I can’t help notice the disturbing pattern of escalation that’s happening with us as we go deeper and further into the hotwife lifestyle. Each time now it’s been one more guy, one more cock, one more set of swinging balls slapping against my sweet Cynthia’s chin as she sucks and moans, fucks and howls, spreads and screams. So how far can this possibly go? Just one man is almost out of the question for us now. It’s just too fucking mundane, as ridiculous as that sounds! Two men sounds like a stroll in the park—nice but not really exciting. Three would be great again, but how do we find three men we sort-of know but not well? After all, Cynthia and I had agreed early on that we wouldn’t turn to the Internet to find random fuckbuddies, and neither would we hit up any close friends. But our rules have trapped us, I feel now. Where do we go from here?
Can we go back to the restaurant? Unlikely we’ll get away with it again. And besides, it’s a been-there-done-that thing now. This is about adventure and experimentation, and it needs to be new every time. That’s the only way we can recapture that high.
Cynthia feels the same way I do, I know. She is way past that restless stage already, that stage where we fuck in the dark, lights out, me always taking her from behind while she rides her dildo and sucks on my fingers, both our eyes closed tight as we come like animals in the night. It is great, but that beast inside us needs to be fed.
And this time, it is Cynthia who’s going to bring home the bacon, serve up the beef, feed that beast that’s pulling at its restraints, yearning for a new experience, something more, something harder, something that’s going to come at a price.
And the price, this time, is going to be her job.
2
C ynthia works at an advertising firm, but recently she’s been working with a lot of lawyers. Four lawyers, to be exact. Day in and day out for the past two months, all five of them packed into a conference room up on the eleventh floor of the Capers Tower downtown.
Cynthia’s firm is getting sued by a former client for something they put in one of their ads. Not unusual, but this case could involve big money and so the firm assigned Cynthia to work with the lawyers full-time as a liaison to the rest of the company as they gather information and prepare their defense.
She had a hard time at first, she told me. Her
M ark the neighbor in my living room . . .
My old friend Thomas at the downtown Hilton . . .
My two bosses , Franklin and Stephen, at Franklin’s mansion in the suburbs . . .
Those three waiters , Henry, Richard, and Jackson, at our favorite restaurant, Hogarth’s . . .
My head spins as I review the history of our marriage over the past year. I’ve now watched Cynthia with seven different men, and I’ve joined in each time. The heights of ecstasy we hit were unparalleled, beyond our wildest dreams. But all of it came at a price.
At first the price wasn’t much. So we cut Mark the neighbor out of our lives after that first ménage, when he took my wife from behind, pouring his cum deep inside her asshole while I came in her mouth. Then I made sure my old friend Thomas was no longer welcome into our lives. No problem there. But then we started to up the ante.
The first time I saw Cynthia get taken by two men, it was my two bosses who filled her from top and bottom, front and behind, above and below until I could no longer hold back and forced myself in there, once again pushing my cock into my wife’s mouth as two men fucked her raw. The rush was incredible, but I paid for it with my job, writing my resignation letter the very next day.
Watching Cynthia with the waiters, my wife getting airtight on that table as those three young men filled every hole . . . man, that was worth it. Too bad we’ll never go to Hogarth’s again, but there are plenty of good restaurants in town.
So yeah, it’s all been worth it. I think so and I know Cynthia does. But I can’t help notice the disturbing pattern of escalation that’s happening with us as we go deeper and further into the hotwife lifestyle. Each time now it’s been one more guy, one more cock, one more set of swinging balls slapping against my sweet Cynthia’s chin as she sucks and moans, fucks and howls, spreads and screams. So how far can this possibly go? Just one man is almost out of the question for us now. It’s just too fucking mundane, as ridiculous as that sounds! Two men sounds like a stroll in the park—nice but not really exciting. Three would be great again, but how do we find three men we sort-of know but not well? After all, Cynthia and I had agreed early on that we wouldn’t turn to the Internet to find random fuckbuddies, and neither would we hit up any close friends. But our rules have trapped us, I feel now. Where do we go from here?
Can we go back to the restaurant? Unlikely we’ll get away with it again. And besides, it’s a been-there-done-that thing now. This is about adventure and experimentation, and it needs to be new every time. That’s the only way we can recapture that high.
Cynthia feels the same way I do, I know. She is way past that restless stage already, that stage where we fuck in the dark, lights out, me always taking her from behind while she rides her dildo and sucks on my fingers, both our eyes closed tight as we come like animals in the night. It is great, but that beast inside us needs to be fed.
And this time, it is Cynthia who’s going to bring home the bacon, serve up the beef, feed that beast that’s pulling at its restraints, yearning for a new experience, something more, something harder, something that’s going to come at a price.
And the price, this time, is going to be her job.
2
C ynthia works at an advertising firm, but recently she’s been working with a lot of lawyers. Four lawyers, to be exact. Day in and day out for the past two months, all five of them packed into a conference room up on the eleventh floor of the Capers Tower downtown.
Cynthia’s firm is getting sued by a former client for something they put in one of their ads. Not unusual, but this case could involve big money and so the firm assigned Cynthia to work with the lawyers full-time as a liaison to the rest of the company as they gather information and prepare their defense.
She had a hard time at first, she told me. Her
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