Hot Wife's Wanton Desires (Cuckold by the Boss 3) by Reed James

Author:Reed James [James, Reed]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Naughty Ladies Publications
Published: 2021-11-25T06:00:00+00:00

* * *

Fiona Thompson

George hated me.

All week, he had been working late, coming home after 9 PM. He looked exhausted. I kept seeing him wanting to yell at me. I tried to get him to open up. I could stand him yelling at me, but he didn't even care that much.

I had become a whore. He had opened the door, but he certainly didn't expect me to enjoy myself. I hadn't, either. It made me feel like this terrible slut. The worst person in the world. I kept thinking of Mr. Richards. That was the worst part. As I spent my day trying to make our house into a home, buying furniture and decorations that George just grunted at, my thoughts kept drifting to the Black man.

I hadn't been with him since Monday in the office. It was like he had forgotten me. I was relieved and... annoyed. There was a part of me that ached for him. For anyone. George wasn't close to me any longer. Overnight, we had gone from laughing and joking and hanging out to being strangers sharing the same bed.

Mr. Richards wasn't intimate, but he was better than loneliness. I started thinking of him more and more. I masturbated when it overcame me, then wept as I pressed one of George's shirts against my face. I kept telling George I loved him. I wanted to move past this.

But how could we? At any time, I would have to be Mr. Richards's whore or we would lose it all. Be poor. I could handle being poor, but George... His passion for changing the world, for making it better, was what had first attracted me to him. He was different from the other guys. He had this dream, and I wanted to be a part of it.

It was Thursday, and I lay on my side on the couch, daytime TV on. I wasn't watching it. Not really. I was just exhausted. It was one of those sleazy shows that exposed infidelity. Cheaters like me. I grabbed my phone and sent my husband a text.

I love you, George. I do. I'm so, so sorry that I enjoyed it. But that doesn't mean I don't love you. I miss you. I miss my husband.

I hit send, not expecting a response. I had sent texts like this before and never received a reply. George was hurting. I hated how Mr. Richards rubbed it in his face even as my body ached to have that big, Black dick in me. I was such a terrible woman.

A few minutes later, my phone rang. I grabbed it and saw it was Mr. Richards. Fear fell on me. He wanted me again. My pussy grew hotter. That wet itch spread as I swiped the screen and brought my phone to my ear.

“H-hello?”

“Friday evening. I'll pick you up at 6 PM. Buy a little, black dress. Something slutty. No bra or panties.”

“Yes, Mr. Richards,” I groaned, knowing I would do it. For George. And for my own selfish lusts.

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