Husband's Hotwife Obsession Ch. 02

A few years later, on our way to Sunday lunch, we bumped into Bill, Julie's ex-husband, who was dating a lovely but very conservative woman, or so she presented herself in public. She was the antithesis of Julie, who always dressed seductively but still looked stylish, not because I asked her to, but because she felt desirable and wanted to look good for me. She used to tell me, 'I dress for my sexy man,' but I knew there was more to it. It all started with her ex making her dress salaciously, which she began to like, and continued to do so even after we got married.

As we chatted, I noticed that Bill couldn't take his eyes off her, wearing light make-up and the bright red lipstick that had become her trademark in recent years. She wore a beautiful yellow summer dress that covered her legs to mid-thigh and paired it with beige stockings and white stiletto sandals. She looked alluring yet stylish. Seeing Bill ogling Julie made me smile inwardly, and a little devilish thought crept into my mind. I glanced in her direction and winked as our eyes met.

"Bill," I began, "we are on our way to lunch at Riverboat. Would you care to join us?"

"I'd love to, but I am meeting Betty in the city. I am already running late, knowing her she will scold me."

"That's a pity. Maybe, we can do it another time," Julie said, and we said our byes.

As we started to walk towards the restaurant, Julie playfully punched me on the shoulder.

"You devil, I know what you were trying to do, to tease my ex with me," she said.

"No, never!" I said, grinning. "But did you notice how he was ogling you? He could not get enough of you."

"Yes, I did, and you wanted to do what? Tease him? Show me off?"

"I don't know what I wanted."

"You are not getting hotwife ideas, are you?"

"No! I never want you to be a hotwife, but you are undoubtedly a hot wife."

"I have been through this once and don't want a repeat."

"Don't worry. You know I am not into this hotwifing stuff."

"So, you just like how other men leer at me?"

"Well, it's a turn-on, seeing other men look at my beautiful wife."

"Really?"

"Don't get me wrong. There is nothing more to it than the old saying, 'Look but don't touch."

"Don't worry. I get what you are saying. If I want to be honest, it makes me feel good when other men notice me. It is a confidence boost for a girl," she said, giving me a gentle kiss on my cheek.

We had a lovely lunch, feasting on delicious seafood while sipping smooth wine. In no time, forgetting about meeting Bill, but I had not forgotten what she said about boosting her confidence, and from there on, I made a point to tell her every day how beautiful she was.

After lunch, we walked on the riverbank hand in hand and sat on a bench watching the ducks like we had done so many times while she'd still been married to Bill. Back then, Bill thought Julie was his hotwife out with her lover, which could not have been further from the truth. But this time, we walked as a married couple in love, happy and content.

One Friday afternoon, I received an e-mail from an old mate I had not seen or spoken to for over ten years. We attended uni in the same years and even took a few subjects together. We became friends, and our friendship lasted beyond uni years, even though our lives took us on different paths.

At dinner that night, I mentioned to Julie Paul had to make an overnight stop on his way to a conference. She asked me who he was, wanting to know everything about him and our friendship.

"So, who is this guy? How did you meet him?" she asked.

"I met him at one of those uni parties we had every Saturday night back then. We were vying for the same girl, trying to charm her all night, but it seemed neither of us got the upper hand. She danced with both of us but always returned to her friends after every dance, and at the end of the night, she left with them but told me she hoped to see me again."

"So, you got the upper hand."

"No, because after kissing me on the cheek, she walked to Paul, and I saw she kissed him on the cheek after a short conversation."

"Oh.., so it was a deadlock."

"I watched her leave the party with her friends, then glanced towards Paul, raising my glass. That was how I met him, and we struck up a conversation and made a pact to never fight over her or any girl, and we've kept that promise ever since."

"So what happened the following Saturday? Did she choose?"

"No, she didn't. It was a repeat of the previous one, the only difference being that when we were not dancing with her, Paul and I stood at the bar, chatting. At the end of the night, she gave us a quick kiss on the lips and left with her friends, saying she would be back the following week."

"Now, I am intrigued about what has happened between the three of you," Julie said, finishing her meal.

"Let's take it to the living room. We can clean up later," I said, picking up my glass and the bottle of wine.

We sat on the couch, holding my drink in one hand and Julie in my arm. She kicked her mules off and snuggled against me, tucking her nylon-clad feet under her. I kissed her head, breathing in the sweet smell of her shampoo and hair.

"I love you, Babe. Tell me more."

"I love you too, beautiful," I said and continued. "We waited for Emma, that was her name, the following Saturday and looked for her but could not see her anywhere. Her friends were there but not her. We sat at the bar drinking and chatting when a cheerful voice greeted us, and she appeared out of thin air. She joined us; we talked, drank, danced and had a fabulous time. When it was time to leave, she told us she liked us equally and would not choose between us. She was happy to date both of us if we could handle that."

"Wow! What did you do?"

"We agreed, not knowing what was to come," I said while Julie looked at me questioningly.

"Well, neither of us was prepared for what she said next. She told us to take her home and fuck her. We looked somewhat confused, and I asked her if she meant one of us. She said, 'No, silly, both of you at the same time, in the same bed.' I remember her words clearly, like we remember our first kiss. I looked at Paul and saw he was just as confused as I was."

"No...! Really...? What did you guys do?" Julie asked, sitting up and looking at me intently.

"We said yes."

"Of course you did. What guy would say no to that?"

"Not this one," I said, laughing, and she punched me in the arm.

"Hey!" I yelped.

"So what happened?"

"Well, if you must know," I said, smirking, "I told them we could go to my apartment as I lived alone whilst Paul shared. She took our arms, and we walked the short distance there. First, it was a bit awkward as none of us had done anything like that, and we barely had any sexual experiences, but that changed quickly as the temperature began to rise in the room."

"How? Details, please?"

"Well, I sat next to her, and we started to kiss, ignoring Paul, who sat opposite us. We pashed for some time when she broke the kiss and told Paul to sit beside her. She turned to him, and they kissed while I watched them. As I became aroused, I touched her breast, and she moaned. Hearing her reaction, I continued to squeeze and grope her breast.

When they broke the kiss, she went into the bedroom and told us only to enter when she called. When she did call, she was under the quilt. I glanced at Paul and saw he felt just as awkward as I did. She uncovered her breasts teasingly, and seeing that, we quickly stripped naked and slid beside her."

"I have never been fucked by two men," Julie said, her voice trailing off, with a wondering expression in her eyes.

"Well, we kissed her all over her body, we made love to her, fucked her while the other was kissing and caressing her, whispering into her ear, and we even spitroasted her that night."

"Spitroasted?" She asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Well, while she sucked one of us off, the other fucked her pussy," I said, smiling.

"Oh, I've never even fantasised about doing that."

"Well, it's never too late."

"Oh, you would like that, wouldn't you?"

"That was our first time," I said, ignoring her question. "We had this triangle relationship for about twelve months before she graduated and returned home. She was older than us, though she only looked like a first-year student."

"Wow! Have you had any other similar experiences?"

"No, I haven't. The following year I met my ex-wife, and Paul met another girl. We often double-dated but never shared again."

"Would you do it?"

"It is a dangerous thing to do. It can destroy a relationship very quickly."

"Yeh, but would you?" she pressed her finger pointedly on my chest.

"Unless both partners are fully into sharing, it is a risky practice," I said, placing my arm around her shoulder.

"You are not answering me, Babe," she said, looking intently into my eyes. "Just say yes or no."

"Well," my mind was racing, wondering what I should say when my mouth ran before my brain, and I blurted out a definite, "Yes, I would."

"Really?"

"It is a beautiful experience when men share a woman, giving her all the love and pleasure she can imagine."

"Would you share me?"

"No."

"Why not, if it is so beautiful as you say?"

"Do you want to be shared?"

"No, not really."

"There is your answer. It only works if all of us are willing and wanting."

"But if I tell you I want you to, would you?"

"I guess I would," I said.

Julie looked at me for a few seconds, straddled my thighs, took my face between her hands and kissed me fiercely. We passionately pashed for a long time, and when she broke the kiss, she looked into my eyes with desire.

"Take me to bed and make love to me, sexy man," she whispered, getting off my lap.

When I stood up, she grabbed my hand and dragged me into our bedroom, where she removed her dress and panties and lay on the bed with her legs wide open. I, on the other hand, slowly removed my shirt and my pants as I'd always done.

"Hurry up, Babe," she impatiently urged me on.

Standing at the foot of the bed, I climbed between her legs and began to work my way up on her stocking-clad thighs, caressing and kissing them.

"No," she said, "I want your cock in me. I am dripping wet."

"Did my story get you hot, Baby?" I asked, smirking while I climbed on top of her.

"No," she replied curtly.

"Really? Then what got you this hot?" I asked, pinning her down while the underside of my cock pressed against her pussy.

"I am just horny tonight, fuck me, please."

"Not until you admit hearing Paul and me fucking Emma got you hot."

"Fine, I admit. Fuck me now."

I reached between us and guided my cock inside her, finding that she was more aroused than I expected, her pussy drenched. We passionately kissed while I moved slowly in and out of her, feeling her walls squeezing my engorged phallus. She broke our kiss.

"Fuck me harder, Babe. I want you to fuck me, not make love to me," she breathed uncharacteristically.

I raised myself onto my hands, pulled her legs up on my shoulders, and began fucking her earnestly. She moaned louder and louder with every thrust.

"That's it, don't stop," she moaned as she closed her eyes and turned her head.

"You would look hot spitroasted," I blurted out.

She glanced at me through narrow eyes and began to tremble, squealing and trashing on the bed as her orgasm washed over her. I kept fucking her, rubbing her nylon-clad ankles against my face while feeling my orgasm building in my groin. She opened her eyes, looking at me with a content smile.

"Cum in me, Babe. Let me feel your cock quivering in my pussy."

I thrust deep inside her and squirted my spunk into her gorgeous body. She smiled contently. After a short while, I pulled out and lay beside her, taking her into my arms. We softly kissed and nibbled on each other's lips.

"Thank you, Babe, I needed that," she whispered.

Saturday, Julie asked when Paul was in town, but beyond that, we did not speak of him or our past for a while. Then, one day she asked me about my three-way relationship while we cuddled and kissed on the couch. From then on, the questions became more frequent, wanting to know more about it. I could not but notice her questions focused increasingly on the sex we'd had. I also noticed a change in her demeanour when we made love.

Slowly, our foreplay became shorter, and Julie wanted me to fuck her rather than make slow passionate love. Her pussy seemed drenched all the time. I also noticed that she closed her eyes when her orgasm approached like she was dreaming. I did not complain or mention it since the sex was breathtaking, even with these changes. Seeing her recent behaviour, I suspected telling her about my relationship with Emma and Paul triggered something in her.

A few weeks passed, and we were to meet Paul for dinner at his hotel, the Ritz. It was his choice, telling us he had never been to our city and did not know his way around. He insisted on inviting us to dinner rather than vice versa, even though I offered him and told him we would pick him up from his hotel. But he had been adamant about it, so I was waiting for Julie in the living room, killing time on my phone, when I heard her heels on the parquet and looked up.

"I am ready. What do you think?"

"Wow! You are stunning, Baby," I said, amazed seeing her.

"Thank you," she said, spinning slowly around on her heels.

She had the so-called 'evening style' make-up characterised by darker hues, dramatic eye shadows, winged eyeliners, contoured cheekbones, mascara-coated lashes and dark, red lips. Her hair was freely flowing onto her naked shoulders.

She wore a red backless, halter-top evening dress; the spaghetti strap wrapped around her neck held the materials in place on her breasts, creating a deep cleavage and showing off a considerable amount of her creamy white skin. The dress was ankle length with a split on her right leg that came up onto her thigh, permitting a glimpse of the welt of her smoke-coloured, seamed stocking while revealing her shapely leg with every step. She complimented her look with her 'fuck me' black stiletto pumps. I was gawking at her, my eyes popping out of my head.

"You can close your mouth," she said, giggling.

"Are you sure about this? Every man and woman will ogle you, and let's not talk about Paul."

"Yes, I am. Paul invited us to a posh restaurant in town. I want to look my best."

"You are, you are, a real head-turner," I said, walking to her, but she stopped me before I could kiss her.

"I don't want to mess up my make-up. It took me hours to get it right. Sorry, Babe," she said, pouting.

I smiled, took her hand and brought it to my lips. She giggled when she realised what I was doing.

"Do you think Paul will like it?" she asked sheepishly.

"Every man in town will like it."

"Yes, but..."

"He will love it. You are gorgeous."

"Thank you."

"But why do you care if he does?"

"Well..."

"Oh, I know."

"Do you?"

"You want to impress him."

"Well.., yes."

"You will, I am sure."

"I want him to see what a hot wife you have."

"Really? Is that all?"

"Yes. What else?

"I dunno. You tell me," I said, watching Julie becoming flustered as I continued, "Okay, let's meet Paul."

Walking into the Ritz, men and women were eying Julie as we walked towards the restaurant, a few discreetly while others openly. Entering, Paul sat at the bar, drink in his hand, glancing towards the entrance. He had never seen Julie, and his eyes lit up, seeing her enter while watching the gorgeous woman wide-eyed. A second later, I stepped through the door, and he noticed me and a smile crept onto his face when he realised she was with me.

"Hello Paul, it's been such a long time," I greeted him, shaking his hand.

"It's nice to see you again. We have some great memories and lots to catch up on."

"Let me introduce you to my wife, Julie."

"Wow, Julie! You are stunning," he said, trying to kiss her on her cheek, but she stopped him as she had stopped me.

"Thank you, Paul. I just had to dress for the occasion," she said, making me smile.

"You sure have," Paul said, grinning.

She slid on the chair beside Paul while I took the seat on her other side. She crossed her legs, the dress falling off, exposing her nylon-clad thighs with a hint of welt at the top. I felt a stir in my groin, seeing her like that and noticed Paul was glancing at her legs too. He was discreetly eating her up, having difficulty looking into her eyes. I did not blame him; she was hot and sexy, a salacious-looking woman. We chatted for a while when a waitress approached Paul, engaging him in a short conversation.

"He seems to be a sweetheart. I can see why Emma liked both of you," Julie whispered into my ear while Paul was distracted.

I must have looked stupid as she started to giggle, reaching for her wine and taking a sip while looking at me. It took me a few seconds to fully comprehend what she had just said.

"Oh, I am glad you like him."

"I do," she said while kissing me on the cheek.

"Our table is ready," Paul said, hopping off the chair and giving his hand to Julie.

Julie took his arm, and they followed the waitress to our table while I walked behind them. Well, it wasn't a table but a small half-circle boot. She slid into the boot, and Paul sat on her right side while I was on her other. She immediately crossed her legs, exposing her thigh while her shoe touched my shin, rubbing my leg gently, and she looked at me coyly.

We looked at the menu and, following some discussions, ordered dinner. When the waitress collected the menu, Julie winked at me, then uncrossed her legs and crossed them the other way, smiling at Paul, who looked at her somewhat surprised. I knew her shoe was touching Paul's leg.

We talked about our lives and what we had been up to since uni while Julie was beaming with delight, listening, interjecting, and occasionally asking questions. She was in her element, bubbly, playful and even flirtatious; when she spoke to Paul, she touched his hand or arm, and when talking to me, she did the same to me while looking into my eyes lovingly. Soon our meal arrived, she uncrossed her legs, and we enjoyed the delicious food.

"I've never been to the Ritz. Far too expensive for my wallet, for our wallets," Julie said, looking at Paul while dreamily smiling.

"I would not stay here either if it came out of my paycheck, but the company pays all my expenses."

"Some people are lucky, and some are rich," she quipped.

"Would you like to see my suite, Julie?"

"You have a suite, not a room?" Julie asked wide-eyed.

"Yes, an upgrade when the hotel clerk realised they'd made a mistake."

"Wow!" she exclaimed, looking at me questioningly, and I nodded.

"We can have dessert in my suite, and I'll show you around."

"Yes, I'd love that," she replied more excitedly than I expected.

Paul called the waitress and arranged the delivery of our desserts to his room. Once sorted, he offered Julie his arm again, but this time, she took not only Paul's arm but mine as well and walked between us to the elevators across the foyer. I could not even imagine what people might have thought seeing a beautiful sexy woman like Julie on the arms of two men.

Suddenly, I had a flashback in my mind to when we'd walked from the club the first time with Emma on our arms, and a warm glow came over me as we walked with Julie, wondering if history was repeating itself, except Julie was my wife. I looked at her as she stood between us, having her arms tightly hooked in ours in the elevator. She was glowing, a genuinely beautiful woman in every way I could describe her. The elevator stopped on the 20th floor, and Paul led us to his suite on the plush carpet.

"This is it," he said, swiping his keycard and opening the door. "After you, my dear."