Naughty Wife's Surprise Page 3
“How'd last night go?” her best friend squealed. “I want to hear every filthy detail!”
Sleep was pointless against Cherry's enthusiasm, so she regaled her best friend with last night's naughty fun. Evie grew moist between her thighs as she described what happened. Her hand crept slowly down her stomach, beneath her covers, and found her black curls damp with her growing passion.
Cherry'll never know, Evie thought, feeling naughty as she slipped two fingers inside herself.
“After I untied him, I whispered that I needed to be punished,” she cooed into the phone, pumping two fingers slowly inside herself. “He told me to look behind the dresser, and I found this wooden paddle.”
“He spanked you?”
“God, yes!” she moaned, stabbing a third finger inside herself, and pumping faster. “He pulled me roughly over his knee. Then he brought that paddle down.” She ground the heel of her hand against her clitoris, pleasure trembling through her. She tried to keep her passion out of her voice; it was so naughty masturbating while talking to her best friend. “The wood made a cracking sound when he spanked me. And it stung so bad; the pain shot right to my pussy. The more he spanked me, the wetter I got. I was so horny I came the moment he slipped his cock inside me!”
“Oh, my! You are a dirty slut!” her friend purred. “I'm gettin' hot just listenin' to you talk about it! Damn it, I wish Steve was here?”
“Your husband's out of town again?”
“Yes!” she hissed. “I got to go. My vibrator's beckonin'!”
“Have fun,” moaned Evie.
“Oh, before I forget, I need to swing by later on today,” Cherry said. “Around three?”
“Sure, I should be back from the salon by then.”
“Good, we need to talk.”
The line went dead. What did that mean?
Evie's nether ached too much to care right now, so she reached over to her nightstand drawer and pulled out a thick, purple dildo covered in little bumps. She gave her favorite toy a kiss, then brought it between her legs, picturing Officer Connoly on top of her. She moaned as she roughly pushed it into her tunnel, and pretended that the Black cop was pounding her hard, treating her like a dirty slut.
“Oh, Officer,” she gasped out loud. “I've been so naughty! You should do a thorough cavaity search!”
She pumped faster and faster; the tiny bumps on the dildo driving her pussy wild. She imagined the cop grunting, “Dirty, White whore! You're just a slut for my big, Black cock!”
“Yes!” she hissed, her pussy contracting as her climax rippled through her. “Yes, yes! I'm a naughty slut!”
She convulsed one last time, then collapsed onto her bed, leaving the dildo buried inside her. She lazy stroked her clitoris, savoring the afterglow of her cum, and dozed for a little longer, dreaming of Frank and Officer Connoly double-teaming her; a cock in her ass and pussy at the same time. Maybe next Friday? If I can't find a woman to join us, I'll give the officer a call!
She eventually crawled out of bed, washed her dildo, and made a light breakfast. Then she spent thirty minutes sweating in front of the TV doing her aerobics. Frank came home as she was finishing up, stinking from the gym. Since she was also sweaty, they took a nice, long shower together, using up all of their hot water.
Frank whistled cheerfully as she made them lunch; her husband was clearly satisfied by how well he had performed in the shower. Thirteen years of marriage, and he still could make her cum hard. Once they finished eating, she headed off for her hair and nails appointment.
When she returned home, Cherry's silver SUV was parked in the driveway. She found Frank and her friend sitting at their breakfast nook table, sipping cups of spicy tea. They were laughing and smiling, and clammed up the moment she entered. Evie sensed a conspiracy. Cherry liked to plan surprise parties, and often roped her husband into helping.
“Isn't it a bit early to be planning my birthday?” Evie asked, narrowing her eyes. “Last time didn't go that great.”
“Maybe!” Cherry grinned.
“Or is it our anniversary?” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. That wasn't for another two months.
Frank stood up, and kissed her on the cheek. “I'll leave you two hens to squawk about clothes and nails and whatever, and go take care of the lawn.”
“You two are definitely up to something,” Evie declared. “Or my husband's been replaced by someone who mows the lawn without being nagged.”
Frank whispered in her ear, “Something's bothering her. I'll give you ladies some privacy.”
I married such a sweetie. Evie gave his butt a swat, and carefully sat down at the breakfast nook—her rear still smarted from Frank's spanking.
“They did great work on your nails,” drawled Cherry as she took Evie's hand and examined her deep-maroon acrylics. “I really need to try your place out. Look at these.”
Her nails were a little chipped, not that obvious, but if you looked carefully you could tell. “Didn't you go to the salon on Thursday?” Evie asked.
“That's what I'm sayin'. For what they're chargin' me, they could do a better job!”
Evie poured herself a cup of tea, inhaling the spicy, relaxing aroma—cinnamon and orange. She sipped it, the warmth spreading through her like the afterglow of a tiny orgasm. “Is everything alright, Cherry?”
A faint muffled roar came from outside; Frank starting up the lawnmower.
Cherry toyed with a lock of her honey-blonde hair. “I think Steve's cheatin' on me.”
The bottom fell out of Evie's stomach. She reached out and grasped her friend's hands. Cherry was such a wonderful person. How dare that bastard cheat on her! “Oh, no. I'm so sorry. That's terrible.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Evie blinked. She seemed...blase about it. Maybe it hasn't sunk in yet? “How do you know?”
“Last night, I called him. We like to have phone sex when he's on one of his business trips.” She took a sip of her tea. “He's travelin' most of the time these days for work, and I'm tryin' to keep the spark alive.”
“Sure.”
Evie was glad Frank didn't have to travel often. Maybe two or three conventions a year. But he wasn't the type of guy to cheat either, not with her keeping their spark more than alive. Cheating had crossed Evie's mind from time-to-time, but she loved Frank too much. And now that their marriage was more...open, she could satisfy any craving for other men safely.
And if Frank's desiring other women, well, that's why I'm trying to find someone to join us.
Cherry looked down at her tea, swirling it in her mug. “There was a woman's voice. She moaned his name. He claimed it was just a porno he was watching. And Steve's a common name, but...”
“But your gut tells you differently?”
She nodded. “I've kinda had a suspicion for a while.” Cherry drained her tea cup. “You know, little things. He's been vague on the details of his trips lately. And there's these strange numbers on his cell phone, and, once, I swore I could smell perfume when I laundered his clothes.”
“I am so sorry, Cherry.”
“I'm not. I got so turned on!”
Evie blinked. “What?”
“The thought of him fuckin' another woman in his hotel room turned me on.” Her voice became low and sultry as she spoke, smooth as velvet. “I came three times last night thinkin' about it.”
Evie took a long gulp of her tea, unsure what to say.
“It was so humiliatin'! He was talkin' to me on the phone, tellin' me how much he loved me, and there was some whore in his bed, takin' my place.” Color spotted her friend's cheeks, and lust burned in her hazel eyes. “And that humiliation and shame mixed with my lust and...it just exploded inside me!”
“Aren't you angry?” Evie asked. “If Frank cheated on me, I'd be furious. How could I ever trust him again?”
“I'm angry at myself. For years, I've stayed faithful, denying myself while he's on his business trips.” She wiggled in her chair. “If Steve wants to have some fun whil
e he's away, then I should have some fun, too.”
“I guess.” Could I forgive Frank if he cheated on me? Would I get off on the humiliation? Evie didn't think she could forgive; their intimacy would be shattered. And how could you ever get that back?
“When Steve gets home tonight, I'm going to suck his cock, and pretend that I can taste the hussy's juices on him. Then I'm going to fuck his brains out, and beg for him to spank me and treat me like his whore.”
Evie shifted her sore bottom; flashes of last night, bent over Frank's knee, warmed her vulva. She squeezed her thighs, remembering the crack of wood on her flesh. It had been wonderful to be dominated and treated like a cheep whore by her husband.
Cherry looked Evie in the eyes. “Ever since you told me how Frank spanked you, it's all I can think about! I want a strong man to take me by the neck and make me howl!”
Chapter Four: Matrimony
“I got to go,” Frank said as he entered the house, hanging up the cell phone.
“Who was that?” his wife asked him from the kitchen.
The mouth-savoring aroma of her dinner wafted through the house. It was Tuesday, and he had a weekly meeting that kept him late at work, otherwise he would've helped her out with the cooking. He breathed in the scent of lemon-baked chicken—delicious.
“Just someone I'm making arrangements with for Friday night.”
Curiosity blossomed in his wife's sapphire eyes. “What kind?”
“It's a surprise. But it'll be very naughty.”
She wiggled her hips, and pressed her thighs together. Frank smiled; he loved seeing his wife aroused.
“I can't wait,” she purred. “It's nice not having to get things ready.”
“I'm taking a half-day on Friday to get things perfect,” Frank continued. He loved the expression of curiosity and desire that blossomed on her lovely face. She looked like a kitten eying a saucer of milk for the first time. “Call me when you get to your car after work on Friday. I'll have instructions for you.”
That really intrigued her, and she kept trying to weasel his plans out of him all through dinner. He kept strong, despite all her wheedling. She was very good at it and, after dinner, she offered a massage as bribery. After thirteen years of marriage, Frank knew how to play her game, and would pretend to relent, but when she started rubbing his shoulders, he clammed up.
“You promised,” she pouted, her wonderful fingers working the stiffness out of his muscles.
“I'd tell any lie to get one of your massages.”
Her wheedling eventually led to the bedroom, and she used every wile she possessed to try and pry the information out of him. “How can I tell you when not knowing makes you so affectionate?” he asked her as she licked his cock.
“Maybe I'll stop,” she threatened.
“You won't,” he smirked, stroking her face. “I can smell how horny you are. Tell you what, I'll lick your pussy instead of telling you my secret.”
Lust and curiosity warred on her face.
Lust won.
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
Friday was dragging along as slowly as Wednesday and Thursday had, and Evie was a bundle of excited energy as she played scenario after scenario in her head, trying to figure out what her husband had planned for tonight. It was so rare for him to come up with one of their games. While she liked to be submissive in the bedroom, she was the dominant one in their marriage, making most of the minor decision: where to eat, which social event to attend, what type of sex game to play. Frank was a laid back guy on the little things.
He must have thought of something really kinky, she decided, and it involves someone else. All week her husband had been having hushed phone calls with a mysterious person. She had resisted the urge to snoop on his phone and figure out whom he'd been talking to. Maybe he's found a woman to join us. Perhaps one of his coworkers? She always suspected Carol from his office as having a crush on him. And she was a leggy woman that all the guys, her husband included, panted after.
The thought of being with a woman excited her. She had been curious in the past, and even kissed a girl, Michelle Sanders, in college. Then she had met Frank her Sophomore year, and her curiosity for women had been driven out of her head by this great guy she was dating.
The final hour of work seemed to last an eternity. She glanced at the clock twenty times a minute, urging the minute hand to move faster. When five o'clock finally arrived, she was off like a cheetah after a gazelle, almost running to the elevator. The ride down to the parking garage seemed to last forever. The moment the doors opened, she called Frank. Her phone rang, and rang, and rang.
She frowned. He did tell me to call, so why isn't he answering?
She reached her Audi, worry nibbling at her stomach, when he finally picked up, and barked, “The safeword is 'matrimony'.”
“Okay,” she answered, and a thrill filled her—Frank was going to dominate her again!
“Okay, Master,” he snapped.
“Sorry, Master!” she gasped. Pleasure shivered through her body straight down to between her thighs; he sounded so strong, so powerful. She pressed her thighs together; her clit suddenly aching.
There was a wet sound in the background, like someone sucking on a lollipop.
“In the trunk of your car is an outfit,” Frank continued; his voice grown husky. “You will strip naked right there in the parking garage, and put it on.”
She hesitated. She wasn't alone in the parking garage, and the thought of some stranger seeing her naked only made the ache between her legs grow. “Yes, Master,” she purred, surrendering control to her husband.
“That's a good slave,” moaned her husband. “Now lick my balls.”
“What, Master?” Evie asked, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.
“I was talking to my other slave,” he chuckled. “She has her pretty tongue running across my balls right now. You better hurry home, or they'll be no cum for you to share.”
She pictured leggy Carol on her knees, licking his balls while he sat on his recliner. Or maybe one of the pretty secretaries at her husband's work. Jealousy surged inside of her. That's my cock she's sucking! Then she imagined herself kneeling next to the woman, sharing her Master's cock and taking turns licking his shaft. Maybe their tongues would brush, their lips would meet, and they would kiss around his dick. She shivered, breathing in, and she could smell her spicy arousal; her panties were drenched with her lust.
Her hands flew to the buttons of her blouse. She had to get home as fast as possible. With her blouse hanging open, she pulled her keys out of her purse, and popped the Audi's trunk open. She carelessly threw her blouse into the compartment, and found a package from their favorite sex shop. She opened it up, and blushed.
I can't wear this in public!
“Suck my dick some more, slave!” her husband moaned through the phone. “You better hurry, Evie. This little whore knows how to suck cock! I'm not going to last long.”
Evie didn't want the hussy to have his cum all to herself; she reached behind her back, and unclasped her bra. The parking garage air was cold on her breasts, but that wasn't why her nipples were as hard as diamonds. Her cheeks burned with humiliation as she unzipped her skirt. The shame went straight to her vulva, igniting a bonfire inside her. Her skirt fell down her legs. She stood in her work's parking garage wearing only her drenched panties, and felt like a complete tramp.
She took a deep breath. I can stop this. One word.
She slid her frilly panties down her legs, the gusset drenched with her lust.
The elevator dinged; footsteps echoed through the parking garage. She flushed, leaning into her trunk. Part of her wanted to be seen – the part controlled by her aching pussy, begging her to be free, and let a complete stranger, or even a coworker, see her naked glory – but the rationale part of Evie, her brain, feared the consequences to her career. The mix of danger and excitement was intoxicating; she couldn't resist sliding a finger between her juicy labia.
&nbs
p; The footsteps grew louder, and she was all too aware of her husband's deep moans coming from her phone. She never realized how loud the speaker on her smart phone was until this exact moment. The stranger was going to hear and investigate; her pussy dripped in anticipation.
“Suck it harder, whore!” her husband moaned. “Damn, Evie. This slave could suck the paint off the side of a house.”
She pulled out a leather corset from the bag, similar to the one she wore last Friday. Only the bodice of this corset was made with a fishnet mesh. The footsteps grew softer, moving away. She sighed, a mix of relief and disappointment, then pulled the corset over her body, lacing it up the front. The mesh pressed tight against her round tits, and she could see her pale flesh bulging through the gaps along with her hard, pink nipples. The corset ended at her bellybutton, and two garters hung down her thighs. She glanced in the bag; there were no panties, only a pair of thigh-high fishnet stockings and a leather slave collar.
Frank grunted, and the mystery woman sucked nosily on his cock. “Deep-throat me, slut! Yes, that's it!”
“I can't wear this on the drive home,” Evie complained. Her stomach churned with fear; her pussy churned with lust. “There's no bottom, and you can see my nipples clear as day.”
“Your windows are tinted,” Frank answered. “And if you get pulled over, I'm sure you know how to get out of trouble. Say the word, and you don't have to do this. It's your choice, Evie.”
She flushed; her pussy ached too much to stop now. She grabbed the fishnet stockings, pulling them up her sleek thighs, and clipped them to the corset's garters. Then she pulled the last item out of the bag—the slave collar. She stared at it clutched in her trembling hands. The collar was made of black leather, dotted with metal studs, and a short length of chain dangled from the front. This thing was designed to degrade, and to make her feel like a bitch—Frank's bitch.
It's my choice.
Evie secured the collar tight about her throat, the chain rattling. The leather was cold against her skin, and a degrading shame went straight through her, ending at her throbbing clitoris. She needed relief, and pressed her burning groin against the side of her car.