Dirty Old Men Obsession: (A Hotwife Story) (Older Man Younger Woman Cheating Wife Erotica) (Becoming a Hotwife Book 2) by Peter Speed

Author:Peter Speed [Speed, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-08-22T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight: White-mare

I stood outside the huge double doors unable to avoid looking directly at a full-length glass reflection of myself.

Quite a sight.

I hoped my new playmate would approve.

After all, I had followed his explicit instruction to the letter.

Everything I wore was white – even the jewellery deliberately chosen to meet requirements.

I was not taking any chances.

More than a minute had passed since I’d pressed the doorbell button.

Yet there was no sign of activity inside the house, no lights or the merest hint of movement behind the glass.

I had no other choice but to wait.

The tight-fitting dress – an outfit that accentuated my substantial curves and only reached half-way down my thigh – had only been worn once.

The dress – “daring” as my leery boss had called it – had caused such a fuss among the men at the agency’s Christmas party last winter that I had never been able to pluck up the courage to wear it again.

Until now.

It showed no cleavage but it did display a lot of skin, leaving my slender shoulders and arms fully exposed to view.

I’d opted to not wear a bra but wore a small white G-sting underneath to contain some of my modesty.

Underwear was a necessity for me – I had learned through embarrassing situations – when combining drinking and short dresses.

I liked this dress.

It may have been a little provocative but the light-colour contrasted beautifully with the fake bronze tan that I’d slathered on last night.

I did have silk hold-up stockings to complete the look but had opted against them.

Despite the summer coming to an end, it was too warm.

My high heels gave me an extra six inches in height.

They were uncomfortable but made my legs appear as if they go on for miles.

The pain was worth it, I’d figured.

My raunchy look was finished with dangly earrings that contained large white opal stones embedded into the diamonds.

I was ready: except Edward wasn’t bothering to answer the door.

A dark thought fell across my mind.

Could this have been some sort of elaborate joke?

My stomach dropped at the thought of being set-up.

Why would someone do that?

I reached for the doorbell and pressed it again.

I kept my manicured finger on the buzzer for longer, making the ring sound more urgent to those waiting inside.

Nothing.

I looked over my shoulder towards the car still sitting on the road some 25 metres away, engine idling.

James had insisted on waiting until I was safely inside the house.

Since telling him about tonight’s date, he had been quiet but understanding.

I knew he continued to blame himself for the Jerry debacle – and rightly so – and saw this as an opportunity to fix things.

Whether he was completely comfortable with me seeing another man quite so quickly, that was a different story.

Still, this was what I wanted.

And Chloe Jones always got what she wanted.

Well, most of the time, at least.

I gave him a small wave to show I was okay.

He returned the gesture.

The car did not move though.

The wait continued.

“Come on,” I muttered to the door that remained steadfastly closed in front of me.

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