A Wife and her Anklet

I watched agonisingly, my gorgeous wife Gemma of five years, sitting naked on the end of our bed. I wanted more than anything to throw her back, spread her legs and fuck her brains out, but tonight was her girls night out.

My wife is a young-thirties voluptuous brunette. Standing 5ft 7inches tall and weighing only 130lbs. She has silky long brown hair with deep blue eyes. An hourglass figure, yet to be tainted by the joys of baring children. My wife Gemma turns heads with her sophistication, elegance and poise, but tonight she was going to be turning them for wanton reasons.

Casting me a mischievous grin, my wife stood up and did a complete about turn, showing me her clean-shaven, feminine body. Her big tits and firm arse jiggled until she stopped. Her pubic mound was completely bare, showing off her tight cunt.

"So, can I wear it tonight?" Gemma pulled a black, lace thong up her smooth, slender legs.

"Does it mean that much to you, to wear it?" I asked, watching the thong waistband snap from her fingers to her body, snuggly.

"I'm curious to see if it actually works?" she replied, stepping into a midi bodycon dress.

"And what if it does work?"

"I'll let you know. I'll text you," she said, plopping her soft, round tits into the dress.

"And what if any of your friends recognise it, and understand what it means? What it symbolises?" I warned my wife.

"They won't, but if they do, then I'll tell them they're talking nonsense and it doesn't mean anything." My wife answered confidently, as if she had it all figured out.

I nodded in thought for a moment. "So, assuming it does work, and a guy you like the look of approaches you, what will you want to do?"

Gemma turned around to face me. She cupped her big tits through the dress, moving them into place until her plentiful cleavage was evenly balanced.

"I won't want to do anything without your blessing. I love you too much to even consider cheating on you. We started out on this journey together; I intend to see it out together. You're my husband, Tim. It's together or not at all."

"Why are you so determined to wear it then?" I spoke to her tits, knowing every guy was going to get a good look at them that night. "I told you we should only use it for role play."

"Because I want to find out if it actually works," Gemma repeated, slotting diamond ear rings into her lobes. "And... I feel sexy when I wear it. It's like I'm wearing our secret around my ankle. I want to experience that feeling in public."

"I'll ask you again. If a guy understands what you're wearing. What will you do?" I stood my ground.

"And I'll tell you again. I'll text you." My wife reaffirmed. "Can you put my necklace on for me please."

I took the diamond necklace from her hand and put it over her head, pulling the two joining ends together at the back. Gemma sexily swept her long brown hair out of the way, revealing her supple neck.

"And if I say... oh great, Gemma, now you know, carry on with your GIRLS night out," I mocked her, hooking and securing the necklace together.

My wife stepped forwards and turned around to face me again. "But you won't. I know you too well. I know you better than you know yourself," she said confidently, whilst adjusting the delicate diamond so it sat just above the valley of cleavage on display. It was unsubtly sexy.

"You sound so sure of yourself there, Gemma," I grinned, becoming semi-erect.

"Ok, Timothy! Would you like to make a bet?" My wife challenged me, sitting down on the end of the bed once more, to put on her criss-cross, ankle strap stiletto heels.

"This will be interesting." I was still grinning, this time at her tits as she bent over to reach the straps on her heels. "Be careful tonight, Gem. Those tits might come out to play all by themselves without a bra to confine them."

My wife ignored the playful jibe and stood up, adjusting her cleavage and necklace again. "Let's assume for a moment that it does work, and I text YOU... to tell ME... what my next move should be... if you don't give me a free pass then I'll be your sex slave when I get home!"

I pissed myself laughing while she grinned knowingly. "That's a win-win for me."

"Is it?" Gemma raised her eyes, again knowingly, as she slipped her watch on.

"And if I were to hypothetically give you a free pass?" My cock was solid. I was hoping Gemma wouldn't notice, but she did.

"Then it's a win-win for both of us," she smirked, before kissing me very, very softly on the lips, and gently rubbing her hand over my crotch. She smelt and tasted divine.

"Uh," I gasped. "Mmm, you slut!"

"I'm someone's slut... if you want me to be? But I'll always be your hotwife!"

"You're fucking killing me!" I groaned, as she massaged my cock through my jeans.

"What do I have to do if I lose?"

"Nothing," she smiled, letting go of my cock.

"Nothing? So you're offering yourself as my sex slave for the night if I don't let you fuck another guy, but if I do let you fuck another guy then... it doesn't make sense," I chuckled.

"I'm offering you a dream incentive to not give me a free pass... because I know you will. Not because you'll want to... but because you won't be able to resist giving me that pass."

"Where is it?" I asked, determined to teach my wife a lesson in obedience and control.

"Where it always is. In my bottom drawer with the toys and lube," my wife grinned, thinking she was going to win this game.

I went into the drawer and took out the jewellery box which Clyde had given us... my wife... as a wedding anniversary present... right before he fucked her brains out in her wedding dress.

Gemma giggled as I approached and told her to sit back down on the bed. "Remember, it must go around my right ankle."

"I know, I know," I nodded, getting down on one knee.

I raised my wife's right stiletto heeled foot onto my thigh and opened the box. She spread her legs a little further apart and flashed me her barely-thong-covered mound.

Chuckling, I took the anklet out of the box and secured it around my wife's right ankle. I then put her foot back down on the floor and gave her a cocky, confident smile.

"Now you're all set," I beamed arrogantly.

"Mmmmm, I hope this works. I really want that free pass," she taunted, smiling affectionately at the anklet and it's heart shaped pendant.

"You're not getting that free pass, purely because I need to prove a point."

Gemma elegantly rose from the bed to stand. She looked mesmerising. Made more so because for girls nights out she transformed from the fun, sexy, intelligent, sophisticated and professional Gemma, to the risqué, flirtatious, seductive Gemma. Since the anklet arrived into our marriage, I could add promiscuous to the latter.

"Your ego can say what it wants, Tim. If and when the moment comes, hopefully this evening, your ego will fade into the background, as your true desires take over."

I laughed. "Ohhhh, this is going to be a fun and interesting evening. And there was me thinking I only had Match of the Day to look forward to."

"Condoms?" my wife pushed the envelope even further.

"What do you need them for? You're on the pill and I'm your husband. We only have them in case one of us comes down with thrush."

"Don't make this harder for yourself later, darling," Gemma laughed.

"Go and enjoy yourself. Not too much! But have fun and promise me you'll stay safe. Joking aside, I mean it. Don't get too drunk."

"Are you seriously letting your wife go out with her girlfriends, wearing a hotwife anklet, and without adequate Personal Protective Equipment?"

I chuckled. "Stay safe. Have fun. Call me if you need anything, and I'll have the bedroom ready for when my sex slave returns home tonight. As she's my slave, I might even stick it up her arse for the first time. She has been promising me that undiscovered part of her body recently."

Gemma smiled and hugged me. She then whispered into my ear. "Deny me that free pass and you can have my arse tonight. There's another incentive for you to prove that you're not a cuckold screaming to break free."

While I watched my sexy, pumped-up wife leave the house and step into the back of a taxi cab, my cock was rock hard. I knew she wouldn't cheat. Well, I trusted her enough that I believed she wouldn't.

A big part of me hoped an attractive guy would recognise the anklet as a potential sign, and then approach my wife to have his suspicions confirmed. I wanted to hear my wife down the phone so I could deny her, and then have her return home frustrated and pissed off, but super horny.

There were obviously huge risks to consider in all of this. A small part of me believed my wife was just playing up to the significance of the anklet, and once out with her friends she'd forget all about it. Her daytime personality was not befitting of a lady of the night. Gemma was too smart to play our bedroom games out in public, especially in front of her closest friends.

I sat down in front of the TV and watched a movie with a few snacks and a couple of beers. I then tuned into Match of the Day at 10.30pm. The football/soccer programme ran until midnight, to which I still hadn't heard a peep from my wife. Apart from messages pinging in the lads WhatsApp chat, my phone was silent.

Up until midnight I wasn't really wondering or thinking about my wife too much. But then, with nothing else on TV that I fancied watching, my mind reminded me that the night would be in full flow inside the bars and clubs by now.

I knew my wife and her friends would have already been scrutinised visually by the guys they would have encountered thus far. Had anyone noticed or questioned her anklet yet?

My cock began to stir, so to occupy my mind I did the worst thing possible. I went onto the internet and started looking at holidays for the summer. That in itself wasn't a bad thing to do, but I was now on the internet in my house by myself.

One internet search led to another and another, before eventually I was looking up the new stories posted on Literotica. I read some good material and laughed at the trolls in the comments section, before moving onto porn to fill my time. By 1am I was wide awake watching amateur wives being shared, swapped and fucked by big white and black cocks.

Having put myself into an unnecessary state of heightened arousal. I finally texted my wife to see how she was getting on. Twenty minutes after I sent the text I got a reply back. My wife texted to say she was having a great time with the girls and that she loved me.

Standard response from my wife. I texted back asking what time she thought she'd be home. Her reply said we needed to talk but she didn't have good phone reception. I then replied back asking if she needed me to come pick her and some of the girls up. Something I'd done many times in the past.

My wife sent me this text:

Gemma: Only me and Siobhan are left standing. The anklet worked by the way. What do you want me to do? X.

"Fuck off!" I laughed awkwardly. My throat tightened and my heart started pounding. "You're pulling my leg!" I talked out loud to the text message and then replied.

Me: Are you serious or are you taking the piss? Don't joke around with this Gem!!! X.

A few minutes later...

Gemma: I swear on our marriage. I'm not lying. I'm sorry but I did dance with the guy. Him and his friend danced up to me and Siobhan on the dance floor. Don't get mad.

I didn't let him touch me or anything X.

"Fuck!!!" I shot out of my chair, nauseous from reading the text. Cock rock hard at the mental image that reading the text gave me.

Me: We need to talk!!! X

I tried ringing Gemma but the signal her end was shit. Our phones connected twice but it sounded like she was in a fish bowl at a rave.

Me: Where are you now? X

Gemma: I'm sat by myself in a booth. We're in a club. What do you want me to do about the anklet situation? I love you so much! X

Me: Where is Siobhan and this guy you danced with?"

Gemma: She's on the dance floor snogging some guys face off. I'm waiting for him to come back from the bar with drinks. I love you! X

Me: I love you to. Be honest. What do you want to do? X.

Forget shaking like a leaf, I was trembling as if an alien invasion had just been confirmed on the news. Watching my wife getting fucked by Clyde was one thing, this was on another level. I hadn't seen the guy. Was my wife safe? What the fuck did she want to do exactly?

Gemma: I want you to tell me what to do! X"

I didn't hesitate...

Me: Come home! Now! X.

"Gemma: Are you sure? Are you really, really sure? X.

Me: No! But I don't want my cock making this decision for me lol X.

Gemma didn't reply for the next ten minutes. I paced the lounge with all my bodily functions on high alert. It felt like I was coming up off ecstasy, without the sense of euphoria. Then finally I received a text.

Gemma: I'll tell him no and then I'll get in a taxi. I'll be home soon. I love you X.

Relief instantly took over my body. From my feet to my head, this sense of calm flooded me like water filling a glass. I sat back down but then I suddenly felt strange... conflicted... like I'd just made the wrong call on something. I opened my phone and messaged my wife again. My fingers trembled like Parkinson's disease as I typed.

Me: What did you tell this guy when he asked about the anklet? X.

A few minutes later...

Gemma: He asked if my anklet meant I was available for the right guy. I told him yes X.

"Holy shit!" I shot up again and rubbed my hand over my face and then held the back of my neck.

"Me: Then what happened? X.

Gemma: I said it was up to my husband X.

A second text quickly followed...

Gemma: I love you Tim!!!! With all my ❤️. If you want me to come home I will leave the club right now X.

Me: I love you more than anything babe, but please tell me what you want me to say?

Gemma: I want you to tell me what you want me to do X.

Me: I want you to come home but I also want you to act on your desires. I can't tell you what to do because I don't know what to say 😬 X.

Gemma: ❤️❤️❤️

Me: Please answer me this honestly. Do you want to fuck him? Do you want me to tell you to fuck him? X.

Gemma: Yes ❤️ and Yes ❤️ XXX.

In a weird foggy state of paralysis, I stood staring at my phone, unable to make a decision for about five minutes.

Me: Where does he want to take you? X.

Gemma: Back to his place. Siobhan had already left with his friend. What do you want me to do? X.

Me: I want you to be the hotwife you are! X.

My head was fucked. My cock was throbbing and actually leaking pre-cum. I knew I MIGHT regret sending the text if Gemma followed through, but I knew I would DEFINITELY regret not sending it. Either way it didn't matter now. I'd sent the message and now I had to wait for my wife's reply.

Gemma: I love you so much ❤️❤️❤️. I'll see you in the morning X.

Wait! What? No! You can't text me that and expect me to go to bed and sleep.

Me: I need to know you're safe! X.

Gemma: I'll text you his address when I've safely arrived there. I'll then text you again when I leave X.

With so many uncontrollable emotions triggered at once inside my body, I flaked into the chair to catch my breath. I'd never felt so physically and mentally drained in my life.

I texted my wife again asking questions about the guy, but she never replied. Half an hour later I received a text with just his address. I looked it up. It was an apartment in the city centre. He obviously had money. I texted back but received nothing.

I stayed awake until 4pm in the morning. My memories of those hours before I actually fell asleep on the sofa are just a blurry haze of jealousy, regret, excitement and anxiety. However, I realised I got a kick out of this torture.

At 9.26am, I woke with the sun beaming through the lounge blinds and a text message going off in my ear. It was my wife. I'd fallen asleep on the sofa.

Gemma: I really hope you're ok? I love you so much! See you in half an hour! X.

Half an hour? Shit. I needed to tidy up and shower. Ruffle the bed a little and make it seem I didn't experience the most emotionally traumatic night of my life.

Once I'd tidied and showered, I heard a key in the front door. My heart started pounding and my head was spinning again. I then took several deep breaths and told myself to remain calm and as nonchalant as possible. Curious, but nonchalant in how I spoke and asked questions. I had to put myself in my wife's shoes for a few moments, before I finally went downstairs to see her.

"Are you ok, Gemma?" I asked, entering the kitchen. She looked every bit a woman returning from a one-night stand.

"Yes. Tired, but I'm ok. I just need a cold drink before we talk."

My wife turned her back to me as she drank a glass of cold orange juice from the fridge. I took a seat at the kitchen table and waited patiently. Her hair wasn't too messy, but she did look like she'd spent the night getting fucked.

Gemma then turned around, looking unsure of herself, or what to say first. Her makeup was still intact, not as colourful as when she left the night before, but sort of respectable.

Her dress was also not as pristine as when she first put it on. I skirted my eyes down the length of her body, and my heart skipped a few beats when I saw the anklet hanging exactly where I'd left it, around her right ankle. I skirted my eyes back up her body, quickly doing a double take at her neck.

"Is that a love-bite?"

Gemma quickly brought her hand up to her neck and pulled her hair down over her shoulder, hiding the once suppleness. "Yes, I have a few, sorry."

"Have fun hiding those on Monday when you go to work." I immediately fell into the emotional jealous trap. "Sorry. How are you feeling?"

"Worried," she muttered, unable to look me in the eye.

Don't be an arse, Tim. I told myself. She's your wife for fucks sake. Drop the insecure ego and reassure her everything is ok, because in truth, it was. I stood up and opened my arms.

"Come here, you," I smiled warmly and offered her a hug. Gemma flew into my arms and held me so tight I thought she'd never let go. "Are you ok?"

"I am now," she sniffled.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No."

"So what's wrong apart from the obvious. Did you not enjoy yourself?"

"I'm worried about how you feel," she sniffled again.

Slipping a finger under her chin, I raised my wife's head to look at me. I suddenly felt so turned on looking into her eyes, knowing she'd spent the night with another man. My cock hardened and I kissed her passionately.

Gemma gasped and kissed me back, matching my passion. But when I put my hand up her dress, to feel her pussy, she stopped me and grabbed my wrist.

"What's wrong?" I showed empathy.

"I need a shower first," she cringed.

"Did he not use a condom?" I gulped, but my cock twitched excitedly.

"No." Gemma looked to the floor.

"Did he cum inside you?" My cock twitched tighter.

"Yes," came my wife's guilty response.

"How many times?" I was that nervously excited I felt a stroke coming on.

"Once last night and... again this morning," Gemma appeared to be dreading my reaction.

"He fucked you again this morning. Before you came home?" I was speaking as if I were annoyed, worrying the hell out of my wife. The reality was; however, I was experiencing a full-blown adrenaline rush.

More forcefully than I intended to, I held Gemma away from me to lift the front of her dress. The triangular, lace mesh at the front of her thong was saturated in a creamy substance. The material was see-thru, so I could see the thickness of the white substance spread and smeared across my wife's shaven pubic mound. With the thong so small, the cum had slimed its way out at the sides as the material that ran down into the crack of her arse, to become one piece of string that ran back up between her arse cheeks.