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My Cheating Wife

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You know they're lovers, don't you?


It's Saturday night and I'm watching my beautiful young wife making a few final adjustments to her appearance before we go to a party being hosted by her boss and his wife at their home.

She's wearing yet another new dress, one of dozens that she's bought since starting her job as the personal assistant to the managing director of a property management company.

Until recently, she wouldn't have looked twice at this type of dress but suddenly it's become one of her favourite styles. It's a long, black evening gown with a neckline scooped low enough to show off her beautiful, firm breasts. There’s no bra to restrict their natural bounce or to conceal the outline of her gold nipple rings. A daring slit going almost all the way to her right hip, allows for flashes of black hold-up stockings and creamy thigh flesh.

"How do I look, darling?"

"You look gorgeous, Tammy,” I say, shifting in my seat, “you know you do."

"Do you think they'll like me?"

I smile, slipping a hand inside the gown and stroking the front of her surprisingly moist panties. "Tammy, they'll love you."

She smiles and bends to kiss me, taking care that her breasts don't tumble out. "I love you,” she says softly and looks around at her reflection in the mirror,

"I love you, too, baby. You know I do."

“Hmm… if I dance with him, you’re not going to be jealous, are you?"
“No, course not. I promise you that, darling."

“Okay, good enough.” She gives me a brief smile, then switches subject. “Can you see the outline of my panties in this dress?"

When I nod, she grins. "They ride right up into my pussy."

"They're the ones he bought, aren't they?"

She looks even more beautiful when she blushes.

“Yes. Do you want me to change them?"

"Has he seen you in them?

Her face reddens even more. "I'll get a different pair."

“No, no need. They're like you, darling, very, very sexy."

"You do realise, don't you, that his wife doesn't know about me?"

“Well, if she finds out, it won't be from me."

"Do you really want me to tell you all about it?"

"You know I do."

“But, you said you felt hurt when you found out about us."

"I was hurt — at first. But I was also turned on. Just the thought of you giving yourself to another man… well, it arouses me."

"Is it because he's black?"

"I don't know.” I shrug. “Maybe.”

She looks at me as if considering my words, then she smiles as I hear the taxi draw up outside.

“Later, darling,” she says. ‘After the party, I'll tell you everything. That’s a promise."

~~~~

The preparations had begun two hours earlier when she asked me to shave her pubes. She only asked that when she was feeling particularly horny. She'd already put on stockings and high-heels before sitting in the armchair and spreading her legs for access.

I was already hard when I knelt and admired her beautiful slit… the slit that I used to think was just for me. I wondered if she'd sat like that for him: thighs wide apart, offering herself to him, offering her cunt?

Did she cling to him, sobbing with pleasure when he was fucking her?

Who'd initiated the affair? Was it her, with her elfin-like face, her gorgeous firm ass, and her almost childish innocence? Had she cast aside that facade and let him see the real Tammy, the Tammy who talks dirty while impaled on my cock? The Tammy who orgasmed almost continually when the jeweller pierced her swollen nipples?

Or was it him?

Had he seduced her with his looks, his money, and his lifestyle? Or was she attracted because he's black and muscular?

As I rinsed her, she’d hooked a foot behind my neck and drawn me so close that I inhaled the fragrance of her cunt. "Eat me, darling,” she‘d said and my cock had jerked at the thought of her saying that to him. I’d got to work and she’d climaxed almost immediately, gasping, arching her back, and mashing herself against my lips.

Juices had flowed into my mouth and she’d shook with the force of it. Had she been imagining that it was his mouth on her cunt?
I was in no doubt that she wanted him. I just knew she did.

~~~~

I don't know why I'm surprised when we arrive at the party and I meet Donald's wife. But I am. She's small, black — and absolutely drop-dead gorgeous.

Contrasting with her skin, her tiny white dress looks sensational. It fits where it touches. The low neckline presents the proud swellings of her firm breasts, topped by two jutting mounds that prove she doesn’t need support.

“Hello, Tammy,” she says warmly and kisses my wife on both cheeks. "And this handsome gentleman must be your husband. I'm pleased to meet you, Gordon… please, call me Jewel."

"A Jewel, indeed,” I said, nodding. “An apt name for you, if I may say so."

She smiles and rewards me with a kiss, too, before leading us to the spacious gardens where the party is already in swing.

“Tammy! As gorgeous as ever." Her boss kisses her cheek and then shakes my hand, a little too firmly. “Hello, Gordon, I'm glad you could make it."

Had Tammy told him I might not be there? I briefly wonder if I've spoiled her plans — their plans even.

Before arriving, we’d agreed to mix independently, so it was no surprise to see her chatting quietly with Donald as they strolled around the garden.

"She's very beautiful, isn't she?"

I turn and Jewel is smiling at me.

“Yes, she is." I smile back, trying to decide what I'm seeing in her eyes. "And so are you, Jewel."

“Why, thank you, kind sir." She giggles — a light, girlish tinkle — and it sends a shiver down my spine as I look at her lips, full, soft, and slightly pouting.

"Beautiful enough to dance with, would you say?"

“Oh, very much so."

She takes my arm and we walk up to the patio and join other couples dancing to the music from a six-piece band.

I expect to hold her at arm's length, but she's having none of that. Slipping an arm around my neck, she nestles a cheek against mine. I inhale her scent and try to ignore the sensation of her breasts rubbing against my chest.

"I won't bite, Gordon,” she whispers, nuzzling my ear. “You can put an arm around me."

I'm very much aware of a stirring down below as I place a hand on the small of her back and pull her closer. She sighs and leans into me.

“Pity,” I say.

"Sorry?"

"You said you won't bite me."

She moves quickly and nips my earlobe. A thrill shoots through me at that intimate act. This beautiful woman in my arms is flirting with me, teasing me. Slowly, I move a hand down until it's resting just above the swelling of her buttocks.

"I take it you enjoyed that, Gordon.”

"Is it that obvious?"

She again giggles and there's a faint touch of her lips brushing my neck. "You know they're lovers, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Does it bother you?"

"I don't know."

She laughs quietly. "I'll put it another way, then: does it excite you?"

The band reaches the end of their session and she links an arm through mine. We stroll to the beer tent.

"I have a tape of them,” she says, “at the hotel they stayed in last week."

"A tape? How’d you manage that?"

She smiles but doesn’t answer. Instead, she greets several people while I get two glasses of champagne. I see my wife and her lover sitting on a garden swing. They’re laughing and wave at me before resuming their conversation. It’s as if I were a passing acquaintance.

Jewel returns to my side and makes a show of being comfortable with me. "I had four micro cameras concealed in their suite.” She sips her champagne and giggles again. "I love champagne, it makes me so..."

"Giggly?" I offer hopefully.

“Uh-huh… horny,” she says softly and turns to acknowledge a passing couple.

"What did you just say?" I ask when she turns back to me.

Jewel puts her lips to my ear. "I said it makes me horny.” Her eyes focus on mine, challenging, “Champagne," she adds, "makes most women horny. It’s what they drink when they're away on their business trips."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

“Simply because I think you should know."

"How do you feel about it? You're a stunningly beautiful woman, Jewel, and yet your husband is screwing my wife?"

"The truth?"

"Of course."

"I like it, it excites me."

"Oh."

She giggles again and grabs two more glasses of bubbly. "Come on, let's go for a stroll."

I see our spouses looking as we walk arm-in-arm across the huge lawns toward a river. It meanders to a waterfall at the very edge of their garden.

"You seem surprised that it excites me to know that my husband is fucking your wife."

“Well, yes, I find it slightly unusual, to say the least."

"Quite simply,” she says, looking into my face, “I don't love my husband any more than he loves me. So, while he's away enjoying your wife's doubtlessly gorgeous body, I'm more or less free to have my own fun.” She smiles again. “Discreetly of course."

"Does he know?"

"Good God no." She shakes her head, looking shocked. “Oh no, not at all. He’d consider it to be theft. I'm a possession, you see, not merely a wife."

”Okay,” I nod and then venture, “So who's the lucky man? Anyone I'd know?"

She hands me her glass. "Excuse me a moment; the champagne, you know,” she says and steps behind a clump of bushes.

Being a gentleman, I turn away but my imagination runs riot as I hear the tinkle of her peeing.

"I have a tissue,” I offer.

I'm rewarded with a smile when she reappears.

"No need, thank you. I used my panties." She presses a scrap of very damp lace into my hand. "I've nowhere to keep them, at the moment. I'll take them back later.”

I stuff the panties into a pocket and we walk back to rejoin the party. She excuses herself to mingle for a while. She is, after all, hosting the party. ”I’ll be back, though.” Her eyes sparkle. “Don’t forget, you have to return my panties, don’t you?"

Tammy actually came to request a dance and, for once, was receptive to my suggestion that we leave early. "Just a couple more glasses of champagne, darling," she whispers. "You know how it makes me lose my inhibitions."

I can’t see our hosts and I wonder if he's cross-examining her. Suddenly, I’m surprised to hear a siren and I watch Donald run out to greet the police as they screech to a halt.

"What the hell's happening?" I say but Tammy shakes her head. Apparently, she’s also bewildered.

Donald speaks hurriedly to a policeman and points at us. The grim-faced officer introduces himself as Constable Evans and asks me to accompany him into the house.

"What on earth for? What's happening?"

"We've had a complaint of a serious sexual assault, sir. So, if you'll just step this way please..."

"You bastard." My wife looks shocked and angry as the officer leads me by the arm into the house. He closes the door on the curious eyes of the other guests.

"Now sir, if you'd just empty your pockets for me."

I look over his shoulder and everything suddenly becomes clear. I see Tammy standing next to Jewel and they smile sweetly at me as my wife slips a hand beneath her lover's skirt. Donald looks on and grins.

 

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