The Hotwife Games Ch. 02

Thank you for all your feedback on Chapter 1! Thanks for the many wonderful comments for your constructive thoughts, and for the few, strangely vitriolic, culturally ignorant ones, for the laughs.

Once again, what follows is a story that involves all the stuff you think a story with this title would involve. If those things - hotwives, game shows, endless hot, sweaty, kinky sex involving infidelity, group sex, cuckolding, and lots of fucking, or the word "the" - are not your cup of tea... that's okay! Just don't read it.

If you're into that stuff, strap in.

All characters are fictional. This is a work of fantasy, designed for the dirty-minded to furiously jill off to, or whack their willies.

---

CHAPTER 2: FIRST CHALLENGES (PAST, PRESENT, FICTION)

"Tonight," Rakesh's wife, Diana, had just whispered in his ear, "I'm going to be your bad little hotwife. I'm going to be a whore, baby, just for you... And for every other man who wants me."

Rakesh's dick pulsed hard in his pants, aching for release from the confines of his jeans. It didn't help that Diana's hand was now wrapping around her husband's crotch, sending both pain and pleasure shooting across his trapped, engorged cock. That's when she stuck her tongue in his mouth.

It was the hottest kiss he'd felt in his life. And adding to his arousal, his gorgeous wife was doing it dressed in a revealing, tight black dress and heels, under bright studio lights, in front of an audience of hundreds, not to mention the countless viewers watching the show streaming at home.

"Let the games begin!" announced the beautiful co-host of The Hotwife Games, Jessica Cavendish.

A sentence that meant just one thing... both Rakesh and Diana were minutes away from having their deepest, and kinkiest, fantasies fulfilled, on the sluttiest game-show ever created.

---

To think it had started with a banana...

Three months ago, Rakesh would have never even imagined his wife actually doing something like this. Something like kissing the show's co-host Chris Cavendish, right there in front of him. Or speaking the slutty way she had just done, inches from his ear. Or dressing the way she was dressed in front of all those strangers.

But then that fateful night three months ago came around... along with that damn banana.

Rakesh had gotten home from work, and quickly changed into his comfortable, oversized t-shirt and shorts for the evening. Lately, things had been especially tough at the investment bank where he worked. Rakesh didn't know if there was something strange afoot at the higher levels, or if his boss was taking advantage of him, but it seemed like every day required him to work longer hours than the previous one.

An especially lengthy day crunching numbers had left his shoulders aching, and he couldn't wait until his wife Diana got home from her own job at a posh financial consultancy, to help each other relieve the stress of their long days.

He grabbed a cold Boddingtons and flopped down on the couch. Maybe, he thought, taking a sip, the two of them would have sex that night.

They hadn't had much time to be intimate with each other lately. Both had recently gotten promotions and were working later hours than usual. By the time they returned home from their long workdays or Diana came back from her evening workouts at the gym, they often had just enough energy to eat dinner and catch up on a TV show or a movie together on the couch, before getting to bed and falling asleep.

Earlier that year, they'd had a serious discussion about their future. They'd agreed that they needed to save up if they wanted to buy their dream house - a beautiful three-bedroom hillside manor - where they would start a family. Any extra work for that dream, they realized, would be worth it. In about two years, they estimated, they'd be able to make it happen. Unfortunately, this meant the kind of schedule that left little time to be intimate with each other.

It wasn't that they weren't mutually attracted any more. On the contrary; Rakesh kept in decent shape with his thrice-weekly games of tennis, and Diana had always been attracted to his charming, if slightly nerdy, cute looks and slim build.

Diana herself was a beautiful woman, with a gorgeous face and voluptuous curves packed into her short frame. She worked out with a personal trainer several times a week, and drew stares from both men and women with her striking looks. She was very much the woman of Rakesh's dreams that she'd been when they met six years ago.

Diana's heart-shaped face gave her a quality of an almost bashful innocence. In fact, after a brief conversation, most strangers would probably think of her as a beautiful but "innocent" woman.

But those closest to Diana knew better: her easy, beautiful smile was often accompanied by a naughty twinkle in the eyes, belying her real thoughts. When they made love, Rakesh would sometimes see a glimpse of this other Diana: a feral, kinky sex-fiend who would pleasure him in ways he never knew existed.

Rakesh sipped his beer and thought of how good it felt to fuck his hot wife...

She'd always told Rakesh that she had experimented a little with her previous boyfriends, but had "saved herself" - in the most intimate of senses - for after their marriage. And of course, Rakesh had believed her. But sometimes his wife's mouth and hands and pussy would work his cock over with what felt like such practiced sensuality that he wondered just how far that "experimenting" with her exes had gone...

Little did he know, he was soon to find out.

Rakesh turned on the TV set, flipping to their favorite streaming service. A movie, he thought, might be nice, as he scrolled through the selection. It was the usual cadre of suspects: some comic book films, a cookie-cutter horror flick, a few romantic comedies... Not much, though, to set the intended mood for the night.

Then Rakesh saw a new release, prominently featured on the splash page. A steamy looking poster accompanied a film called The End of the Well.

He didn't have a lot of time to pay attention to pop culture these days, but Rakesh now remembered that he'd heard coworkers talking about this movie. It was a mystery-thriller that had just left cinemas, notorious for a few very sexy scenes and a killer twist. It had been a big hit. Rakesh remembered his colleague Lina saying that it was pulpy, but very well-made and also - lowering her voice - a very "hot" movie. That lead actor, she'd said, with a little whistle and fan of the hand... a real hottie.

Rakesh reckoned a sexy thriller like that could set the perfect atmosphere for an intimate night with Diana.

Rakesh hit the button to start the preview.

And when it started, his heart stopped.

He recognized the lead actor. Gael Sankur...

Diana's ex-boyfriend.

---

Under those burning stage lights, that night three months ago was only a blip in Rakesh's mind.

He sat down in one of the three comfortable deco chairs to stage-right. The other husbands on that episode of The Hotwife Games, Kevin and Karl, were also settling into their seats. All three sets of eyes were trained eagerly forward, focused on their wives.

The co-host Chris announced into his microphone: "And now we kick off the Hotwife Games with our customary First Challenge... The Strip-Off!"

The audience cheered. Standing near the stage's back wall were the three wives: the teaching assistant Daisy Monet in her daisy-dukes and tank-top, the gorgeous model and actress Patti Greenham in her bridal lingerie, and of course, Rakesh's beautiful wife Diana, in her short black dress.

"Our beautiful wives will strip down to their birthday suits over the course of three songs in as sexy a manner as they wish. There's just one rule..." Chris continued. "They can do anything except actually touch someone else's naked genitals."

"Doesn't my husband explain it in the sexiest way?" Jessica, the show's other host, said sarcastically. A laugh went up from the crowd.

"What?" Chris pouted. "They are called genitals!"

Diana had her hands on her hips, and stared out confidently as she readied for the challenge. But Rakesh knew his wife well. Inside, he was certain, her heart was pounding with anticipation. So was his.

"The winner of The Strip-Off, as judged by my husband Chris and myself," Jessica explained, "Will get three points to kick off their scores! On your mark, ladies..."

"Get set," said Chris.

Rakesh was staring intently at his wife. He saw Diana's eyes flicker over to him.

Rakesh tried to muster up a smile, nodding encouragingly. Diana smiled back, and then gave him a little wink. She was ready.

"And go!" yelled Jessica.

Music blasted over the room. A sexy, pounding tune throbbed. The bass-line seemed to shake the room and the stage lights dimmed and pulsed with color.

The three women began to move.

Patti immediately marched sexily downstage towards the audience, feeling her body with both hands from her waist to her breasts. Her gyrating drew cheers from the audience as she wiggled and swayed in her tight white corset and lace panties. She smirked at the audience as she turned and bent forward, twerking her perfectly toned ass. It was hypnotic, and very sexy.

Even Rakesh, who thought he'd be looking exclusively at his wife, was distracted right away. Patti was stunning, and, clearly, stealing the show. His dick was hardening but his stomach sank: Diana was, relative to Patti, a rank amateur at The Hotwife Games. It might be impossible to beat the beautiful model and actress...

But then Diana took the initiative. She quickly moved towards the other side of the stage where Chris and Jessica stood, and started to sensually dance.

Her curvy body looked incredible in the little black dress, and Chris couldn't help but take a long look from her sexy heels up to her face. Diana wiggled and writhed, and locked eyes with the host.

"Well, well," Jessica said on the microphone, her voice sounding over the music. "It looks like we're off to a hot start!"

"Very hot indeed," Chris said, ogling Diana's undulating body. "Though I hope poor Daisy can get in the race..."

Daisy was still planted against the back wall, seemingly paralyzed with stage fright. She was swaying gently from side-to-side, but there was nothing particularly sexy about her showing. Rakesh breathed a small sigh of relief: at least she would be easy for Diana to beat in the contest. Although it wasn't like there was a second prize...

Patti was now on all fours on stage, her curvaceous gym-toned ass pointed up in the air and gyrating to the pulsing tunes. The audience was going wild, and so was Patti's husband, Karl. He was standing on his seat, yelling out to her in his gruff voice.

His cheering intensified as Patti undid the strings on her corset and let it fall away beneath her.

When she came up to standing, the audience exploded. Patti's gorgeous breasts were fully exposed. They were perfect globes over her taut, flat stomach. As she began to fondle them and writhe around, every dick in the audience strained against its underwear. Even the straight women in the crowd cheered aloud, their panties dampening.

Rakesh had all but given up hope on this round...

Then Diana reached below the hem of her little dress and strutted confidently towards the lip of the stage. Slowly, she peeled it upwards as she danced. First her black thong came into view. Then the creamy skin of her belly. Then her breasts encased in their lacy bra... and finally, she pulled it over her head, and turned around.

The audience's attention shifted, and they cheered anew for Diana as she began to wiggle her thong-clad ass to the music. Patti's eyes darted over at her competition.

Not one to be outdone, Patti smirked, hooking her thumbs into her panties. Aside from her tall white heels, they were all she still had on. She began to grind her hips sexily, teasing the audience with the prospect of showing off her pussy.

Diana ripped off her bra.

Rakesh gulped as his wife's breasts came into full view of the audience and the cameras. They were gorgeous and firm, their shape still more tantalizing as Diana shook her boobs sluttishly from side to side.

The two women were side by side now, both in just heels and panties, and it was anyone's game.

Pink lights started to circle and pulse around the stage as Rakesh's topless wife writhed around to hoots and cheers from the audience. Patti's hands groped over her own body and moved down to her lace panties, turning around and grinding her ass at the crowd.

"Looks like we have some head-to-head combat action!" Jessica said into her microphone, laughing. Rakesh looked over briefly and noticed Jessica's other hand was moving over her husband Chris's pants, slowly rubbing his hardened crotch.

"I know my head would love to get some of that action," Chris said, playing off the cheesy banter with a laugh.

But Rakesh clocked how Chris's eyes never left Diana's dancing body. The co-host ogled all the way from Diana's heels to her exposed ass to her tits. Rakesh felt a sting of both jealousy and pride.

In the background, Daisy hastily stripped off her daisy dukes and tank top to catch up with the other wives. It wasn't an especially sexy maneuver, but it did serve to reveal her small, braless breasts with their hard pink nipples, and her curvy, pale ass in a pink thong. Daisy's husband, Kevin, nervously applauded for her near Rakesh.

Diana decided it was time to settle the Strip-Off.

She cast a look over at Rakesh. He saw a gleam in his wife's eyes that spelled one thing: she was about to be bad.

Diana wriggled to the music as she turned her back towards her audience, presenting her breasts and face to Rakesh fully. She stared her husband in the eyes as she slowly bent forward... all the way down. Presenting her butt to a cheering, horny crowd. A cheer went up as she shook her ass in the audience's direction.

Diana hooked her fingers into her thong and slid it down her legs...

And then stepped out of it.

Rakesh's wife was fully naked other than her black high-heels.

Rakesh's breath stopped as Diana returned to a fully standing position. He'd had no idea before — Diana had shaved her pussy hair to a thin landing strip, a dark line running down teasingly to her clit. Had she done this last night? Right there in the dressing room?

She put her hands on her hips and grinned at her husband.

He'd slightly misread the gleam in her eyes before. Diana wasn't about to be bad. She was about to be very, very bad.

Naked all the way to her ankles, Diana turned and marched off the stage and into the audience.

—

When Diana came home that night, three months ago, she'd been taken aback by her husband's suggestion.

Did he really want to spend their evening watching her ex-boyfriend Gael starring in his new movie? Sure, it was supposed to be good, but, well... would it be weird for Rakesh?

Rakesh had convinced her quickly enough. After all, they'd seen Gael in some of the TV roles he'd done before. And this was supposed to be a great, fun movie. Besides, it was a long long time ago that she and Gael had dated... right?

Diana had finally agreed. After all, he was merely her old college sweetheart. Once he'd moved to Los Angeles to pursue his career, they'd basically lost touch apart from the occasional college reunion.

The truth was, Rakesh was thinking about exactly that... Diana's last college reunion, a few years ago.

It was the first time he'd meet Gael. It was early in Gael's career, but Rakesh was struck by what he could only describe as a "movie star charisma". Gael had worked the room like he was Frank Sinatra, with a confidence and humor that was, Rakesh had no doubt, shortly going to make him very famous. Not to mention a stunningly handsome face and muscular arms that filled out his short-sleeved shirt. He had the body of a fitness model. Although Rakesh had had his arm around his beautiful wife nearly all night, he couldn't help but feel pangs of inexplicable jealousy.

But then Gael had been very friendly with him, and had congratulated the newly married couple as warmly as anyone else had. It had set Rakesh at ease.

Sort of...

Something about that meeting had always sat weirdly with Rakesh.

Something about Diana's face when they'd greeted Gael. A look of... fond remembrance? Long-lost romance? Mere admiration for his budding success? Or was it outright lust?

He couldn't tell. But a secret part of him wanted to watch his movie with Diana for a very specific reason...

He wanted to watch her face as she watched Gael.

And so Diana and Rakesh found themselves on their couch that night, curled up with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine, watching her ex Gael Sankur star in The End of the Well.

Funnily enough, it wasn't long before they'd both almost forgotten the fact that it was Diana's ex up there on the screen. The movie had quickly sucked them in with its coiling murder mystery plot-line, in which Gael had fully disappeared into his character, a rough-around-the-edges private eye named Nixon Cordova.

The movie's plot relied on many classic, pulpy tropes, but it was certainly a fun - and erotically charged - thriller. Rakesh wanted so badly to hate it... but he had to admit Gael was an incredible actor.

He might have even completely forgotten that Diana had once dated him...

And then along came that damn banana.

It was a scene set in a plantation house outside New Orleans. Gael's character, Nixon, had traveled out to the boondocks to investigate the case he'd been tasked with, and found himself in an exchange with the film's femme fatale, played by "it" actress Vanessa Goodwin...

—

EXT. PLANTATION FIELDS - DAY

NIXON (Gael Sankur) drives up a dirt road in his convertible Mercedes SLR. He parks it along the periphery of a massive property in which large banana trees shade a two-story plantation home.

Nixon steps out, dressed in white linens damp with sweat from the sweltering afternoon heat.

He looks around, takes off his sunglasses, and walks towards the house, when —

VANITY (V.O.)

May I help you?

He turns to see VANITY (Vanessa Goodwin). She wears a yellow sundress, with sunglasses and a wide-brimmed Southern Belle hat that nearly hide her face.

NIXON

I'm looking for Boris Prefontaine.

VANITY

So are a lot of people.

NIXON

Not all the way out in Dulce Rose, they aren't. But I am.

VANITY

And you are...?

NIXON

You don't need my name, Ms. Prefontaine. I'd like to meet your husband.

VANITY

Well. I'm afraid you can't do that.

Nixon watches as Vanity turns, kneeling to inspect a bunch of bananas that have been recently shorn from a nearby tree. She carefully traces her finger over the fruit, selects an especially large banana, and plucks it from the branch. She stands back up and throws her hat back off of her head.

She lowers her sunglasses and inspects the fruit over the rim.

NIXON

Can I ask why?

VANITY

Boris is dead.

Vanity slowly peels the banana in her hand.

VANITY

I suppose you want to know how?

NIXON

Now that you mention it.

She holds the peeled banana up to her mouth and wraps her lips around the tip, only tasting it with her tongue. She smacks her lips together, satisfied.

VANITY

I killed him. But you knew that, didn't you? That's why you're here... Detective.

Nixon stares.

NIXON

I'd be lying if I said I didn't know.

Vanity only smiles, then gently nibbles at the banana. Nixon's gaze moves down — to the snub-nosed pistol she's pointing at him with her other hand.

VANITY

I'm afraid that little secret has to stay between us.