Date Night for Lana and 5 Other Stories of Stolen Wives: 6 explicit tales of cuckolds who voyeur their cheating wives by Dylan Chase

Author:Dylan Chase [Chase, Dylan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PMI
Published: 2021-08-27T05:00:00+00:00

I Ducking Love It

Arlene could hardly slow down enough to eat she was so excited. And I have to admit, I got swept up in it too. This guy Shel was some big-time lawyer who specialized in working with big-name restaurants and my wife, who was the manager of a struggling downtown restaurant, was chomping at the bit for a better shot with a bigger company. She got to know him she said because he came in for lunch so often the last couple of months.

“You should see how he dresses too, Jesus, Ken,” her eyes were big as saucers. “Swear to god his shoes are worth more than my car.” We usually made fun of people like that. She wasn’t making fun of this guy Shel though. I caught her trying to stifle a little smile to herself the way you do when you’re recalling some conversation and she tried hiding it looking down at her plate.

I was a resident at the busy downtown hospital and we didn’t get to eat dinner together all the time. “We’ll get there too, Lena,” I nodded making my best reassuring expression. “I’ll get my break one day. Private practice.”

“I know you will, babe.” She sucked on her fork as she slowly withdrew upside down from between her pressing lips. “I’m so impatient, though, aren’t I!” she chuckled at herself. “I feel like I’m just beginning to really know what I want I guess, that’s all.” She looked down again with embarrassment, which I didn’t understand at the time. “It’s not just about the money,” she murmured.

“And you should get what you want. You deserve it,” I said. My mind though got hung up on that little bit about it not being just about the money. Then what was it about, this impatience of hers?

“Shel’s clients are exactly the kinds of people I need to put myself in front of. He can do a lot for me, Ken. For my career, you know?”

“If he’s interested in you,” I raised my eyebrows and grinned with conspiracy, “you should go wherever he wants to take you. Don’t you think?”

“Do you really mean that? I mean, I don’t really know-know him, you know?”

“You talk about him enough.”

She blushed. “I do not.” Her eyes fixed on the far corner of the floor as though remembering something. Again.

“Are you relaxed around him?”

“I guess, yeah, you could call it relaxed. But are you saying like just go wherever he wants to take me?” She asked it like it was a real question about real places, not a hypothetical question or a figure of speech.

“Arlene,” I put my utensils down and leaned over my plate. “You remember when you had that job offer and you turned it down because you were loyal to Sam?” Sam is the guy she worked for.

“Yeah,” she answered wistfully.

“And you remember when you had that chance to go on that cooking school junket to Japan?”

“Yes and yes,” she answered obsequiously.

“You swore you were going to

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