Baited Wives II: An anthology of 6 stories about cuckolds and hot wives in 1st person, first time experiences by JL Sanders

Author:JL Sanders [Sanders, JL]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PMI
Published: 2022-03-19T00:00:00+00:00

Reluctant Adulterer

She had taken off her pale smoke-toned leather biker jacket but still wore her grey suede thigh-high tall heel boots and tight white mini dress. She clapped and bent over laughing before straightening up and covering her mouth with her hand. I could see her blush from all the way up in the bedroom loft above the large open ski chalet we rented for the weekend. The fire rolled and whipped behind the big white fur rug that spread out from the black leather ottoman he stretched his legs out over. They were both sunken into the massive, soft, burgundy couch. A show was on the huge screen over the fireplace, but they were only sporadically checking in on it during lulls in their conversation. A space for decency and decorum remained between them on the couch as though they both silently agreed to a placeholder for her missing husband and his missing friend — for me, in other words. But I wasn’t going to show.

It was the three of us at the beginning of the night when we got started over dinner at Josie’s, the hot new place in the village. But then I had to go to my poker game.

“You’re going to leave her with me?” Brady, my friend, said, imitating a Home Alone shocked expression. He sold high-end art in the village gallery and I knew him since high school. Crazy Brady — he took to heart the Aristippus philosophy of hedonism.

“Pursuit of pleasure is the only moral compass there is,” he had said earlier.

Celine, my wife, 27 years old and 5 years younger than both Brady and me, was a kindergarten teacher. “I would have to say,” she tilted her head to cause a cascade of long lazy waves of her milk chocolate hair to fall over her chest, “that certainly seems to be the morals we all start with.”

Brady grinned at her crookedly with a questioning squint of his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

My wife tugged the zippered edges of the sleeves of her biker jacker down over the palms of her hand and scrunched up her shoulders. She wasn’t comfortable being asked what she thought. She didn’t naturally insert herself into conversations. I liked it. We both wanted her to speak her mind more, but she was painfully shy at the best of times.

“The kids I teach. Or maybe not teach,” she ducked her head and hid her face behind thick strands of hair that flicked over her face. She raised her eyes and caught his eyes through her hair. She didn’t know how hot she was or how her natural gestures looked so flirtatious. I’d tell her at home, but she would only deny and hide her face in my chest. “More just keep alive till 3,” she raised her shoulders and puffed air out her grinning mouth. She closed her lips again and turned her face to her drink, finished for now, but she glanced at Brady a brief moment more through the corners of her eyes.

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