The Hotwife & Her Bull - Pt. 06

This is the story of poor Carol Hendrick, a normal, healthy young woman with normal, healthy desires. Unfortunately, she followed the advice of her conservative parents and married Alan, who has a low sex drive and is unable to satisfy her. But Alan is aroused by the idea of his wife having sex with other men, so he suggested she become a Hotwife and start a relationship with a man who can serve as her Bull. In Chapter 6 we hear Carol suggest a new way to spice up their sex lives.

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"We'd like for you to come over to our house."

That's how Carol introduced me to the idea that she and Alan wanted us to have sex in her marital bed. It sounds weird, but that's true of almost everything about Hotwives, Bulls, and Cucks. The idea was actually pretty simple. Alan liked thinking about his wife being used by another man. For that other man to have sex in the marital bed was particularly appealing.

Carol already knew I wasn't interested in being in the same room as Alan when we had sex, and she suspected I felt the same way about being in the same house. She explained that such a thing wasn't part of the deal. "Alan is going to be away on business for the next week," she said. "While he's gone, I'll have the house to myself. You could come over. We've got a nice pool, a big entertainment center, and a kitchen large enough for a restaurant. And we have a very nice bed. I'm sure you'd enjoy throwing me down and making me your bitch."

Stated that way, how could I refuse?

I decided to stay the entire week; Alan would return Friday, and I had a date with one of my regular girlfriends that night. I was so enthusiastic about the idea of spending all day and all night with Carol that I signed up for vacation days that week. If we were going to play house, I wanted to do it all day and all night.

Carol was very excited. We'd never done anything like this before. It meant we could eat out at restaurants, go dancing at clubs, listen to live music - all the things normal couples do whenever they want.

Carol drove Alan to the airport early Monday morning. I drove to her house and got there before noon. Alan is a high-ranking employee at the company where we work, so I knew he had a great salary. But I hadn't realized he made enough money to afford a house like this. I'm not sure you'd call it a mansion, but it was fabulous. It was a beautifully designed home in a rich neighborhood. We live in San Diego, and a home like that had to have cost a fortune. It was so big and comfortable I asked why they didn't live somewhere smaller.

"Alan liked this place because it's a good investment," she said. "In the time we've lived here, the value has increased more than a million dollars." Gulp! That certainly explained why two people would live in a five-bedroom house with a four-car garage, an enormous pool, and furnishings selected by a top designer based in Beverly Hills. It was the kind of place you see in Architectural Digest magazine.

I guess it just goes to prove that getting a degree in finance is probably a better idea than electrical engineering.

Carol directed me to her closet, where I stowed the clothes I brought for the week. Her closet was bigger than my bedroom. Most of the shelves were empty, but Carol explained it by saying she never expected to fill the closet. "I've got more nice clothes than I'll ever have time to wear," she said. "This closet was designed for women who collect shoes and purses the way teenagers collect baseball cards."

After we settled in, Carol took me in her arms and held me. We'd developed a routine in our time at Hotwife and Bull. Every time we got together, we began having sex immediately. We'd have sex a couple of times over the course of an evening, and at least once the next morning. The fact that we were getting together in her own bedroom didn't change the fact that we both were hot to have sex again.

We helped each other undress, got into bed, and began. I touched her everywhere from her pretty face to her knees. This never failed to get Carol warmed up and ready for more intense stimulation. As I was kissing, sucking and nibbling on her breasts, I felt her wrap one hand around my cock and start stroking up and down. It felt so good I let out a deep sigh of pleasure.

"Do you like that?" she asked, smiling.

"Very much," I said.

I reached down between her legs and began massaging her pussy. Her legs spread automatically, inviting my hand to explore her soft, wet inner folds. "Give it to me," she whispered softly.

"Say please," I said.

Carol looked me in the eyes and smiled again. "Please," she said.

"Please what?" I said.

"Please, play with my pussy. Make me feel good."

"Beg," I said.

Carol looked a little surprised, but she played along. "Bill, please make my pussy happy. Please play with it. I'm begging you, I need it so much. I need your fingers inside me. I'm so wet. Please, please, please give it to me. Please stop making me wait."

Since she asked so nicely, I decided to give her what she wanted. I dipped one finger into her hot, wet slit. She jerked when I touched her, then let out a moan. Carol seemed to enjoy this little bit of foreplay more than usual. She must like playing this little game of "say please" and "beg." I slowly moved that finger up and down the length of her pussy, being sure to avoid touching her clit. I'd save that for later, when she was even more aroused.

Instead, I slipped that finger inside her, moving in and out as she squirmed on the sheets. I added a second finger, then sought out the rough patch of flesh over her g-spot. As I stroked that area, I used my thumb to begin massaging her clit.

That made her come alive with pleasure. "Ohhhhhhhh . . . " she said, moaning loudly as I played with her pussy. She tossed her head back and forth, and raised and lowered her hips as I kept stroking. I guess Carol had been looking forward to welcoming me into her own bed. She seemed to love it. Her hand began jerking up and down my cock so fast that I started to worry she might make me come. I reached down and removed her hand, giving my cock a chance to calm down.

"I need you to fuck me," Carol said in a hoarse whisper.

"Say please," I said.

Carol smiled broadly. She seemed to like this game. "Please Bill, fuck me. Fuck my pussy. My pussy needs your cock. Please, please, please fuck me. Now."

"Beg," I said.

She laughed. "Please sir, I'm begging you to put me out of my misery and fuck me. You've got me hotter than fire. I can't stand it much longer. I beg you to take that big, hard cock and shove it up inside my tight little pussy. Please, just fuck me. Just fuck me now."

I gave her what she wanted, of course. "Yesssssss . . . " she said when she felt my cock slide inside her. She was very tight. Whenever Carol and I got together, her pussy seemed to be especially tight the first time we had sex. It would get a little looser in time, but she was always tight as a teenager at the beginning.

Carol was so hot already that she didn't want the kind of slow, gentle sex we usually had. She wanted me to pound her pussy. I wanted to give her what she wanted, but it would mean that I'd climax sooner than usual, and that would put an end to our lovemaking for a while. Carol knew this, of course, but she didn't care. This time, she wanted it rough. I gave it to her, slamming into her body as she thrust her hips upward with each stroke.

Her climax was just as good as I expected. She usually came strongly the first time we had sex. Carol began wailing loudly. When she did this in my apartment, I was always aware of the fact that my neighbors in adjacent units could hear what we were doing. But we were alone in a big, solid house with no neighbors nearby. Carol could scream like a banshee, and no one would hear her.

The tension slowly left Carol's body as her orgasm passed. Her pussy ceased throbbing. I kept pounding into her pussy. It wasn't long before I climaxed, and she hugged me tighter as she felt my cock fill her with warm wetness. "Ummmm . . ." she said happily. It was always easy to know when Carol felt satisfied. Her hands ran up and down my back affectionately, making me understand that she'd enjoyed the orgasm I gave her.

It was my first orgasm, too, and so I shot a particularly big load of cum into her pussy. This cum leaked out of her pussy when I pulled my cock out.

"Bill, do me a favor," she asked.

"Whatever you want," I said.

"Take a picture of my pussy."

This was new. There could be only one reason for Carol's request. She wanted to send Alan a photograph of my cum leaking from her wet, loose folds. The idea was a bit startling at first, but I did it. It was part of our deal. I'd agreed to be Carol's Bull, and this was part of the job.

After I took several pictures showing the aftermath of our sex, Carol sat up and asked me to take another picture. "Back up a little so the picture shows where I am," she said. "I want a picture that makes it clear I'm in the bedroom where Alan and I sleep." Carol was naked, and her hair was mussed up in a way that showed she'd just had sex. She spread her legs so I could take a beaver shot. Over the last few months, I'd taken so many nude photos of Carol that she knew how to pose suggestively. I sat down next to her afterward and we looked at the photos together.

"You look very sexy," I said.

"Thank you, Bill," she said. "I always feel sexy when you are around." We looked at the photos of her wet, leaking pussy, and neither one of us said anything. We both knew that we weren't the intended audience for those pictures.

"How would you like to go swimming?" Carol asked.

"Sounds refreshing," I said.

We walked naked through the house and out to the pool. It was surrounded by a tall privacy fence, so there was no chance that anyone could see us. The cool water felt wonderful, and Carol's bare skin felt sexy and alive when I took her in my arms. We splashed around in the water, enjoying the large pool where Carol often swam laps. There was an open shelter at the far end. It enclosed weight machines, a treadmill and an elliptical trainer. Carol had become more serious about exercise recently. I admired that, as I admired so many things about Carol.

"Would you like to try the whirlpool?" she asked.

"Sure. Sounds great."

We climbed out of the pool, and I took a good look at Carol's tight, naked body. Some women are beautiful. Some are sexy. Carol is both. I never got tired of admiring every one of her curves and clefts. She removed the cover of the whirlpool, turned it on, and climbed in. I climbed in after her. The water was warm and bubbly; Carol explained that it would get a lot hotter after running for a few minutes.

"Bill, what would you say if I had some work done?" Carol asked.

I had no idea what she was saying. At first, I thought she was talking about remodeling her house. But no, that wasn't it. She was considering cosmetic surgery. The idea was so unexpected I was startled by it.

"Carol, I think you should do whatever makes you happy," I said. "But it would never occur to me that you should see a plastic surgeon. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known. You're not even 30 years old. What would you want to change? You're perfect as you are."

Carol smiled. "Thank you," she said. "That's sweet. Actually, I'm thinking of having several things done."

"This is very surprising," I said.

"I'd like to get my lips plumped. Everywhere I go, I see women with plumped lips, and I'm jealous. They look great."

"Carol, there is nothing wrong with the lips you have."

"I know that," she said. "I don't think I have any problems that need correction. I just want to look different. Better. I think getting my lips plumped slightly would make me look better."

"Ok. If that's what you want," I said.

"I want implants," she said.

"Implants! What the . . . your boobs are perfect. What's your bra size now?"

"I wear a C cup."

"What is wrong with that?"

"Bill, nothing's wrong with my boobs. I just think I'd like it if my boobs were a little bigger. Perkier. Here in southern California, all the pretty women are walking around with bigger boobs than mine. I look like a boy next to them."

"Wow. Well, if that's what you want. I can't resist mentioning how much I like the boobs you have. You know how much time I've devoted to lavishing attention on your boobs. Your nipples are particularly lovely. As you recall, I was sucking on those nipples just a few minutes ago."

Carol laughed. "Yes. I remember. You'll be glad to know I'm not having anything done to my nipples."

"Thank you. That's reassuring," I said. "Is there anything else?"

"Well, yeah. I want several more enhancements, actually. Rhinoplasty. I want work done around my eyes. I'd like my chin to be more defined. I'd like to suck some fat out of my belly and inject it into my ass to make it look curvier.

"Is there any fat on your belly? It looks pretty flat to me."

"The surgeon said I should have visible abs after she removes a little fat. And it doesn't take much - just enough to make my butt look a little bit rounder."

"So you're already seen the surgeon?"

"Yeah. We've already had a consultation. I'm scheduled to do this next week."

"Wow. This is very sudden. Very surprising. But I want you to know I support whatever you want to do. I get the impression that what you want is to look like a model, or a movie star. Is that right?"

"That's one way of saying it, yeah," Carol said. "Bill, when I was younger, I liked it when I walked into a room and I was the prettiest woman there. These days there are so many surgically enhanced women that I almost never feel that way anymore. And there's one other factor. I'm sure you can guess what it is, but you're just too classy to mention it."

Of course I could guess. "This is Alan's idea, isn't it?" I asked.

"Yes. He was the one who first suggested it," Carol said. "It hurt my feelings at first. It felt like my husband was telling me I'm not attractive anymore. But that's not what he meant. Alan has added something new to our relationship. He's pampering me. He's going overboard, to be honest, but it's nice - for the most part. He wants me to wear designer clothes that are sexier. He's given me some very expensive jewelry.

"See all that exercise equipment? He's paying for a well-known personal trainer to come over here three times a week. I should take you out to the garage. There's a sexy little two-seat sports car that he wants me to drive to the grocery store. It's a very nice car, but this is getting overwhelming. As I'm sure you understand, Alan likes it when people look at me and think I'm sexy. That's what made him suggest it. It hurt my feelings a little at first, but I eventually realized what he really meant, and when I talked to the surgeon I decided I wanted all these procedures."

"This must be pretty pricey."

"Bill, you have no idea. Alan found one of the most expensive surgeons in Beverly Hills. She works on movie stars and supermodels. She's an artist. I feel confident I won't regret anything she does, but the estimate of what she's going to charge for this surgery is just mind boggling. Of course, the more it costs, the more Alan likes it."

I couldn't help but look at Carol's beautiful breasts and try to imagine never seeing them again. From what she said, Carol wanted to make herself look like a very different woman. I liked the woman she was.

"Come over here," I said, reaching for her.

Carol positioned herself on my lap. "I want to say something, and I'm not sure I should," I said. "It might not be a topic that I'm allowed to think about, because I realize I'm your Bull and not your boyfriend. But I can't help the fact that I've developed feelings about you, Carol. I care about you in ways that have nothing to do with sex. What I want to say is, I like Alan as a person, and I respect him. I don't think he has any control over the things that make him want to be a cuck.

"But when you tell me he wants you to get plastic surgery, it makes me worry. This can't be any fun for you, Carol. I do my best to satisfy the needs you can't satisfy with your husband, but I can't help but worry this is harder than you let on. I worry that you might feel rejected sometimes, and that breaks my heart."

Carol was quiet for a long time. "Bill, I've wanted to mention it myself, but I wasn't sure it was an appropriate conversation between a Hotwife and her Bull. I feel rejected all the time. You've never asked, but I'll just tell you that my relationship with Alan has been completely platonic for a long time.

"It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't love him, but I do love him, and I'm committed to doing everything I can to make him happy. And since we're discussing it like this, I want you to know that you satisfy my needs in ways that have nothing to do with sex. I have feelings for you, too. If you weren't around, I don't know what I'd do."

I pulled her close. "Well, I'm not going anywhere," I said.

Carol gave me a little half smile that let me know she had more to say. "I'm glad you aren't going anywhere, but there's something going on that troubles me," Carol said. "Alan is doing so well in his job that they're talking about giving him a big promotion. He's very excited about it. They may want to send him to corporate headquarters in Philadelphia. He thinks moving to a big city on the east coast will be a big adventure.

"I haven't told him that I think the idea is horrible. I'm a California girl, and I don't want to move to some big, cold, grimy old city. And I don't want to lose you. Alan thinks we could just move out east and I could find a new Bull. That sounds dreadful to me. I want you. Only you. If he leaves, I'll probably stay."

"And get divorced," I said.

"Of course," she said. "I'd go back to work somewhere, and I'd hope we could still get together even though I would no longer be a Hotwife and you'd no longer be my Bull."

This was a lot to take in, but I knew what I thought. "Whether you and Alan are a couple or not, I would love for our relationship to continue," I said. "I have no complaints about the way things are now. Well, maybe a few complaints. I don't like the parts that make you unhappy. But I love spending so much time with you."

"That's reassuring, Bill. Thank you. This promotion may not happen. No promises have been made. But I'm glad I told you. Now you won't be surprised."

Carol and I started making out in the whirlpool, and we kept doing it until we got so overheated we realized we'd been in the hot water for too long. The shower in Carol's master bathroom was big enough to hold two people comfortably, so we rinsed in nice cool water. I used a towel to dry Carol off, and it was so stimulating I got hard. "Ooooh! For me?" Carol asked. We went back to bed, had a wonderful session of slow, gentle sex, then fell asleep.

It had been a good day so far.

That afternoon Carol asked to go see an exhibit at the art museum. I'm not very educated on the subject of art, but Carol is, and I enjoyed seeing how enthusiastic the artwork made her. It was fun to wander through the galleries, holding hands like teenagers, taking our time because we had so much of it.

As the sun was going down I drove Carol to her favorite restaurant. I thought it was odd that I'd never known she liked the place. Ordinarily, I'd know something like that about a woman I'd known as long as Carol. We'd been together more than a year, and we'd shared a lot of time together, but almost all our time was spent in my bedroom. I knew she was a good cook. I knew what kind of music she liked to play in the background while having sex. I knew her opinions on some topics. But there was so much I didn't know.