The Hotwife Games Ch. 06

THE HOTWIFE GAMES - CHAPTER 6

'The Hotwife Games' series is now complete, with a total of 10 chapters. I'll be submitting each new chapter every week.

You can jump in right here. Or, if you are new to the series and want the full experience, you can start with Chapter 1 — each installment is short, brisk, and crammed with sex.

Content warning: Hotwifing, swinging, cuckolding, exhibitionism/voyeurism, group sex, race-play, and experiments with form. Genuine feedback, constructive comments, lavish praise, and furious trolling from closet-cuck incels are all happily encouraged!

This is a work of fantasy, designed for the dirty-minded...

—

CHAPTER 6 - THE SMOKING LENS

—

Gael listened on his cellphone in shellshocked silence. He stared at the reflection in his bathroom mirror.

"Diana," he asked, "Did what at The Hotwife Games?"

—

A few hours prior...

Fresh from their shower and from Rakesh's own little orgasmus interruptus...

The Hotwife Games resumed with its final segment of the day.

Rakesh, Diana, and the two other couples were lined up horizontally on the stage, all dressed in plush shower robes. Their hair looked fresh and their faces were all glowing... It looked like they'd all had revivifying orgasms in the showers.

All of them, that is, but Rakesh. His member throbbed painfully between his legs, tumescent from his wife's teasing.

And despite that, he felt rather good. So did Diana.

Somehow, against all the odds, the two had come back from a negative score and tied Patti and Karl for the lead. They'd almost been knocked out of the Hotwife Games, but thanks to Diana's craven sluttiness, they had stayed to fight another day.

Jessica, the show's leggy co-host, summed up the day's final scores for the eager audience.

"The lovely Patti and Diana are tied with six points," she said into her microphone. "Which leaves Daisey and her husband Kevin at zero... making them... our last place couple."

Some in the audience groaned good-naturedly. They knew this meant that the young pair was headed home. And despite Daisey's somewhat derisive attitude, she certainly had fans in the audience who wanted to see her naked again.

But as Rakesh looked over at her, he noticed something strange...

Despite being seconds away from losing their spot in their competition, Daisey had a peaceful - indeed, even beatific - grin on her face.

"And so," Jessica's husband Chris announced. "It looks like The Hotwife Games says goodbye to our bottom couple... Daisey and Kevin, any last words?"

"Yes," Daisey said. She turned. She looked Diana square in the eyes. "I invoke the Lifeline Challenge."

A muffled gasp went up in the crowd.

No one, in the history of the show - not a single contestant, male or female — had ever actually used the Lifeline Challenge before.

Of every maneuver available to the players of The Hotwife Games, it was the riskiest possible move.

Diana knew she had thrown Rakesh off the scent... but she'd forgotten about Daisey. Daisey had been out for revenge after Diana milked Kevin in the last round.

Awed, Jessica shook her head.

"Well, audience, I'm as shocked as you are," she said. "For those who don't know, the Lifeline Challenge involves both the challenger and the recipient of the challenge taking a risk that could just end their marriage."

Rakesh gazed at his wife. Diana looked straight ahead, semi-dazed.

"Prior to showtime, all the wives chose a specific task," Chris explained, "It could involve a verbal secret, or a video, or an activity..."

"Anything at all that our producers vetted, and agreed would be significantly risky collateral if it was presented on the show. And yes... that means risky enough to end a real marriage."

A few neophyte audience members exchange looks, shocked. Could it really be that serious?

"Now the husbands," Chris said. "Have no idea what their wives have chosen."

"And since our hot-wife Daisey has issued the challenge to Diana," Jessica said, stepping between the couples. "Both women must now perform the Lifeline Challenge..."

"Or... if either chooses not to," Chris finished. "Then that wife instantly forfeits the competition."

Rakesh studied Diana's profile with a growing sense of dread. What secret collateral could she have possibly given The Hotwife Games?

Diana felt like her heart was thumping so loud it would wake somebody on the other side of the globe.

"Ya' guys, just to reiterate," Jessica said, wiping a little genuine sweat from her forehead. "Doing this challenge could... end... your marriage. So, Daisey... Are you sure about this?"

Daisey looked over at her husband, Kevin, who also seemed to be paralyzed with shock. Without answering Jessica, Daisey kissed Kevin on the lips, and moved for the audience.

She knew exactly where she was heading, beelining for the two Arab men in the front row. The same two she had racistly mocked earlier.

"You two," she said shortly. "Get naked."

Rakesh's jaw dropped, along with the mouths of many audience members.

"Wow... Daisey is going for it," Jessica said on her mic, and exhaled. "As you can see on our main screen here, this was Daisey's Lifeline Challenge..."

On one of the screens over the audience, text appeared of the challenge Daisey had assumed had could possibly ruin her marriage.

It read simply: 'Fuck multiple men of a different race.'

Of course, thought Rakesh. The Monets had sure shown themselves to be a racist couple. And an act like that would be definitely be divorce-material.

He was shocked that Daisey was going through with it.

Kevin looked on in horror as the two Arab men readily stripped off their clothes. They certainly weren't thrilled by Daisey's personality, but there was no denying the petite young wife was attractive, and they seemed excited.

Daisey quickly shed her robe. Her pale, naked skin shone under the studio lights. She moved onto all fours on the marble floor of the studio.

The two men were now naked. They had muscular, extremely hairy, dark-skinned bodies. They worked their hands over their long, brown cocks, caressing themselves to hardness.

"You," Daisey said, using the same derisive tone she had used earlier. "Put it in my mouth. And you behind me. Now. C'mon."

One of the men scoffed at her tone.

"Who the fuck you think we are?" he asked. But he moved around in front of her. His friend got behind.

"Who?" Daisey answered, scoffing. "You'll do what I want you to do... Now pay attention to wha—mmmf!"

The Arab man shoved his cock into Daisey's mouth. He groaned in satisfaction. Even if she had demanded it so rudely, there was something especially gratifying about stuffing this racist woman's mouth full of his cock.

Daisey's husband, Kevin, looked on absolutely appalled. He climbed out of his seat and began marching over to them.

"Daisey, what the hell are you doing?!" His robe flapped open as he walked. His hard cock stuck straight out ahead of him. "You can't fuck these two curry-munching —"

At that moment, the other Arab man entered his wife from behind.

"Fuck!" Kevin said. And, at that moment... without any prompting...

Kevin's little white cock shot cum out onto the floor.

Some people in the audience laughed. The two Arabs concentrated on spit-roasting Daisey for all they were worth.

Daisey herself moaned around the thick brown cock in her mouth. Her pussy was practically gushing around the other man's large member. She couldn't believe it... her first time taking some brown cocks and she'd never been this wet in her life...

The man she was sucking off grasped her hair like a ponytail. She looked up at him.

"Deep-throat me, you little racist bitch," the bearded Arab growled.

Daisey moaned around his cock. She pulled her mouth off his dickhead with a plop.

Kevin groaned, and grasped his penis, watching his wife a few feet ahead of him. Already his pathetic seed was sprayed on the floor, and still he couldn't believe what he was seeing. His white wife who would barely talk to someone of a darker skin was being used by two hairy Arabs in her mouth and pussy.

She put her lips around the large man's girthy dick.

"Awwww fuck, baby..." Kevin intoned. He shot another string of cum on the floor.

Daisey looked over at her pathetic husband as she began to deep-throat the large, hairy cock. The man behind her pummeled faster and deeper in her sopping cunt. Daisey shut her eyes. Her petite form shuddered.

She began to cum.

The Arab in front of her pulled his dick from her lips.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," Daisey moaned out angrily. "How dare you call me racist, you motherfucker? Look at me, I'm a woke ally — I love supporting people of color so you better please me like you're suppo—"

She was cut off once again, as the large hairy cock exploded all over her face.

"Fuck," moaned the large Arab man, holding her head still and spraying on her face. "Take my cum..."

"And mine..." the man said behind her. "Fuck she's a tight white slut! Say it... make me cum... say it..."

Daisey looked back, her face sprayed with cum. "Say... what?"

"That you're our white slut..." he growled. "For us to use... come on, and I'll shoot inside you..."

His hips bucked, and he slapped Daisey's ass as he fucked her. She shut her cum-covered eyes. Yes, she was going to give in to the moment...

"I..." she said, looking back at the man. "I'm your white slut... a dirty useless whore... use me..."

With pistoning thrusts of his hips, the Arab's balls tightened against Daisey's soaked pussy.

"It's all I'm good for..." Daisey said. "I'm a cum dumpster for big brown dicks..."

The Arab man roared out. He filled Daisey's pussy with his cum.

"Fuck!" Daisey cried out. She reached another crashing orgasm. "Yes yes YES! FUCK ME!"

Kevin felt his knees buckle. He fell to the floor, cross-legged. His bare ass hit his own cum.

Daisey moaned out her third orgasm as her pussy was filled. She screamed with pleasure. She looked over at her husband, on the floor, who looked like he might just burst into tears.

"I love big, dark cocks now..." Daisey moaned. "I do..."

With a groan, the man behind Daisey withdrew his pulsing, brown meat from her gash. He pulled a thin string of cum with it, which dangled in the air obscenely before breaking.

He slapped Daisey's ass. He wiped off his sopping cockhead in her asshole.

"Here, she's all yours," he said to Kevin.

The other Arab wiped his rod off on Daisey's cum-covered face, and the two retreated back to their seats, laughing.

The audience sat in bombshell silence.

For the first time on The Hotwife Games, a woman had risked her entire marriage to secure her place in the competition. And from the look on Kevin's face, it wasn't clear if it would ever be repaired.

"Whoa," said Chris, echoing the audience's sentiments. "Well, er, Kevin... Daisey's done her end of the Challenge. Do the two of you want to keep playing in the Games?"

Daisey slowly got off all fours, and turned to sit facing her husband.

He stared at her. Her face was plastered in semen. That rude Arab man's cum leaked out of her pussy. Her hair was in a just-fucked mess and her pretty eyes regarded him with frank challenge.

As the audience watched, spellbound, Kevin slowly got off his haunches. He moved towards his wife. Despite spraying his load in multiple spurts all over the floor, his small cock was rock-hard.

He lowered himself over Daisey's naked body and pushed his rod into her sopping cunt.

"Fuuuuuuuck," he cried, feeling the Arab's juicy semen envelop his dick. "You little slut..."

Daisey whispered in her husband's ear. "I'm a whore for brown cock now..."

Kevin exploded again. He shot his sperm deep inside his wife.

He was panting for breath and covered in sweat. He looked up at the Games' hosts.

"We're... still in the game," he said.

The audience burst into applause.

The whole thing was so twisted, so perverse and fucked-up...

And as Rakesh looked over, dumbfounded, at his wife... He knew that they were up next.

—

INT. GAEL'S HOLLYWOOD HILLS MANSION - NIGHT

The camera drifts through a wide enfilade...

Framed Hussain originals decorate the walls. A gigantic, brass, custom chandelier casts a dull glow on the hallway. Sculpted Murakami pieces add a dash of the modern to the old-world vibe.

As our VIEW tilts and pans, we glimpse rooms through half-ajar doorways...

A HOME RECORDING STUDIO —

A young man and woman are locked in a passionate kiss. He guides her butt up onto the recording console. She works off his red cardigan.

A SMOKING LOUNGE —

Through blue clouds of marijuana smoke, we glimpse the hazy outline of a small group on a sectional couch. Their clothes are shedding fast as they intertwine.

AN INDOOR BASKETBALL COURT —

Under red lights on a regulation-sized court inside the mansion, a beautiful nude woman is surrounded by five men, servicing them with her mouth.

And, finally, our Steadicam shot swirls us into...

INT. GAEL'S HOME THEATER - NIGHT

—

Sitting in one of the armchair seats in the front row, Gael's mouth was parted in anticipation. His wide shoulders were still sore from his pre-flight workout in Italy. Fortunately, a leggy Wilhemina model was rubbing his shoulders for him, standing over in the row behind.

Both were engrossed in the action on the giant movie theater screen: a replay of that day's Hotwife Games.

Daisey had just received her husband's load, after the two Arab men had thoroughly used her. And, Gael knew, Diana was up next.

"So," the tall model asked as she massaged Gael's shoulders, "If she says she won't do it, they're eliminated from the game?"

"That's right."

Normally, the model's smoky voice, in that crisp South London accent would have taken all his attention. But his eyes stayed locked on the screen. She seemed to sense this.

"Is this turning you on?" she asked.

Gael looked up at her. Then he snapped back to the screen. She had her answer.

"Then why don't you stand up and watch," she offered. "While I give you a rimjob?"

Gael considered this.

He stood up.

The beautiful model smiled, came around, and knelt down behind him.

The Hotwife Games continued to play...

—

"I... I don't... know if we should do it."

The audience waited with bated breath, to see if Diana would accept Daisey's Lifeline Challenge. The hosts, Jessica and Chris, held their mics in anticipation. Daisey, laying side-by-side with her husband, her pussy fresh with two mens' cum, looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a smirk — this "upstart darkie" is definitely gonna fold...

Surely, now, Daisey would have her revenge for how Diana had taken Kevin's seed...

Rakesh's brow was furrowed with confusion. Diana repeated herself, softly.

"Ra... I don't want to do it."

"Baby..." he said, flustered. "We'll be out of the Games..."

Moisture welled rapidly in Diana's eyes. "We should pull out of the Games," she answered. "We have to."

Conviction hardened in Rakesh's face. "I have to know."

"We can't! Alright?" Diana wiped a tear as she spoke. "I'll feel differently about you," she said. "Always. Do you get that? And so will you... I want you to trust me, and pull out of the Games. Then we never have to talk about it again —"

"I have to know."

Rakesh was surprised by the steel in his voice. Diana heard it too. She studied her husband.

"Fine," she said softly. "If you want to do it... Then maybe we'll be going all the way..."

Rakesh's eyebrows crossed quizzically. He didn't know what his wife meant.

Diana turned to the hosts.

"We accept the Challenge," she said.

—

A few seconds later, the many screens around the studio flickered to life.

Rakesh and Diana watched, side by side, along with the audience.

Diana hid her face.

Rakesh felt his pulse all the way down to his feet.

This was Diana's Lifeline Challenge: to show him a video he'd never seen before.

He didn't understand. He didn't know what he was about to see.

The film played.

—

High-res cellphone footage.

A narrow vertical shot.

The floor of a well-lit gym locker room.

—

Instantly, Rakesh recognized the video's location:

The ladies' locker room at KX Fitness, a posh gym in Knightsbridge, London.

He recognized it because it was the place Diana had taken the sexy selfie she'd sent him. The one she'd sent him that day, three months ago... This was the gym his wife attended almost daily.

—

The camera view moves up from the floor. It finds a mirror.

Diana is in frame, filming her own reflection.

She wears a tight, purple sports-bra and black lycra shorts. Her cleavage is pushed together and her black thong straps are pulled up to her hips. Her hair is in a high ponytail.

—

Rakesh drew a breath.

It was the same outfit Diana had worn in that selfie. She must have taken the picture seconds before recording this video.

—

Diana speaks to the camera in a naughty voice:

DIANA: "Ra, baby... that text I sent you, asking if I'd get some attention at the gym? Well, I did..."

She winks at the camera.

DIANA: "My trainer seems especially interested... Mmm. Will you be mad if I tease him, baby?"

Diana wags her hips sensually, from side to side.

DIANA: "I won't take it any farther than teasing, obviously... But I think... you're gonna like this video when I show it to you. I'm gonna show it to you with your cock in my mouth..."

She beams lovingly.

DIANA: "I'm gonna go back out now..."

She blows a kiss.

DIANA: "Love you."

—

As he watched with an open jaw, Rakesh felt a familiar stirring between his legs. He was confused, shocked, aroused...

On-screen, she was saying she'd show him this video, but he'd never seen this footage before. Why?

Diana watched the film unfold with stoic dread. She knew where this was going...

—

The view cuts out. A second's delay. Another shot arises.

From a corner of the gym, we see Diana surreptitiously turning her phone on, sparking our view.

She wipes her forehead with a gym towel, and moves to the wall across from us, where her TRAINER, WILL (late-20's, black, muscled), is waiting.

WILL: "OK, Di, ten squats — and let's go for depth."

Diana nods. She lifts two small dumbbells and positions them carefully over her shoulders. She squats down, and up.

WILL: "Deeper still. Focus on your hips."

DIANA: "I think I need a little help with the form, Will. Show me?"

Will comes up behind Diana and places his hands on her waist.

WILL: "Here we go."

She squats down low again, Will squatting with her. Her butt brushes up against his crotch.

She breathes out gently with each rep, pushing her hips closer and closer to him.

By the tenth repetition, Diana is grinding hard into her trainer's crotch.

She re-racks the dumbbells. Will quickly turns and moves off.

He has a visible erection in his shorts.

—

Rakesh was shocked. The audience sat, hushed and aroused.

—

Diana looks around. In the mirror we see that this small corner of the gym, hidden by a rack of barbells, has cleared out.