Read The Other Man (West Coast Hotwifing) for Free Online Page A

consenting adults. He wasn’t sure he and Zoe would still be married if he hadn’t come up with this solution. His lovely wife needed sex. A vibrator wasn’t enough. No, he was giving her exactly what she needed. And it wasn’t like she’d fall for one of these guys. They weren’t her type, not mentally at least. They were just guys who fooled around behind their wives’ backs when they were on business trips.
    No, Keith was secure in the knowledge that letting her play like this gave her an outlet for her desires but kept her from looking for a real man with whom she might actually fall in love.
     
    * * * * *
     
    They were on the carpet, side by side, a sea breeze blowing across their bodies.
    “Fuck.” The word was just a breath on his lips.
    Her skin was warm against his. They were both slick with the humidity. She didn’t answer, and Spence wondered if she’d fallen asleep. Or passed out. He cracked an eyelid. Hers were open, and she was staring at the play of shadow across the ceiling.
    “Shall we send your husband the photo?”
    “It won’t be very good. There wasn’t enough light.”
    He reached over her, retrieved the phone from the carpet where he’d dropped it when he’d lost himself in the pleasure of her mouth.
    His fingers poised to punch buttons to retrieve the picture, he stopped. Playing with the phone was an invasion of her privacy. “Here.” He held it out. Just as he had when he’d spoken to her husband. The man had definitely been hot to hear the details.
    For a moment, she didn’t take it. When she did, she flicked her thumb over the keys, then handed him the phone so quickly he doubted she’d had a chance to look at the photo.
    “Christ,” he whispered.
    The moonlight had captured the side of her face and her fingers wrapped around his cock, the color of her nails a deep crimson against his flesh. Her lips surrounded his crown, and they, too, were crimson, though he’d long since kissed her lipstick off. Her dark hair seemed to gleam with blue highlights, a trick of the light. Her eyes gazed up at him, deep, fathomless. He found himself falling into them as if hypnotized. His cock between her lips was a thing of beauty. This wasn’t pornography. It was a work of art. She was a work of art.
    Without a word, he handed it back, waited for her to see what he saw.
    She stared a long moment, then spoke in a soft voice. “It’s too dark.”
    “It’s perfect. Send it to him,” he urged.
    “He’ll just complain about the lighting.” She was fighting him, but she hadn’t stopped staring at herself. Perhaps she was in denial of her beauty in that moment.
    Her husband would see it. He needed to see it. Once he did, he’d never be able to give her to another man again.
    “Send it,” he insisted. “It’s what he wanted. It’s what you came here for. To get him that picture.” A part of him wished she’d come for so much more.
    She hit a few more buttons, then he saw the small blue screen indicating the photo was being sent. He wanted to kiss her, but like the woman in that photo, she was a work of art, untouchable.
    “I’ve never had a woman make love to my cock in quite that way.” He intended the words to lighten a moment which had suddenly become as heavy as the humid air around them.
    She rolled over, rose to her haunches. “I better go.”
    “But we haven’t finished.”
    She was putting on her dress before he’d even finished the protest. “We both had magnificent orgasms. Let’s not spoil it by expecting more.”
    There was so much more. But he was down on the floor looking up at her.
    “Thanks. You were perfect,” she went on, a little too quickly, reminding him of her story about the first time she’d done this, when she couldn’t wait for the guy to finish so she could leave. “My husband will love the picture.” She grabbed the vibrator, tossed it in her purse. “He loved it when you called him. So thanks.”
    She slipped into her