The Hotwife Games Ch. 23

'The Hotwife Games' is a story about naughty wives and their husbands participating in a very kinky game-show. These are the final few chapters.

Genuine feedback, constructive comments, lavish praise, and the inevitable furious crying from the five semi-literate closet-cuck incels who troll this section are all happily encouraged!

Take a deep breath, and remember: This is a work of fantasy, designed for the dirty-minded...

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CHAPTER 23 — A MURDER IN EROS

—

A golden afternoon melts into lilac.

The sun begins a long, lazy descent into the Mediterranean.

All around the sea-facing hills, picturesque village homes are set ablaze in its warm sunset palette.

The last pages churn and emerge from the printer behind her. The time draws near.

She unlatches the heavy wooden door. She opens it and gazes down the winding cobblestones.

The two figures draw upward, closer, a pair of refracting silhouettes against the coming dusk. The larger man has both hands full with their daily catch. The smaller-built figure raises a hand in greeting.

She waves back.

She reflects, again, on how the two of them are here because the man she loved was murdered.

The soft stillness of the evening closes in like a hug.

—

HARD CUT:

—

Chaos exploded over the fire-lit lawns like the dawn of a season in hell.

Nude crowds around Gael's sprawling island estate, immersed only seconds ago in bacchanalian bliss, screamed and scattered in terrified horror. Gunshots rang out into the tropical air, each report a chilling crack in the rainy night.

Gael stalked through the dispersing bodies, his gun raised, fiery eyes set in a grotesquely burned, bleeding visage.

He spotted Diana and Rakesh disentangling on a silken bed. He trained his gun in their direction.

Crack. He fired. He was just far enough to miss by inches.

"This," the wounded movie star said, hobbling closer over the wet grass, "Is not over!"

Diana pulled to her feet, her hands out in an implying protest. The shock at seeing him like this — his marred face, his frightening apoplexy — addled her senses.

"Gael — Wait. Wait —"

"You think you've won, don't you?" Gael limped forward, gun pointed. "You think this is where you two go and live happily ever after..."

Rakesh had stayed put on the mattress, on his hands and knees, a crouching animal ready to pounce. Gael narrowed in, his mangled red features a satanic sight in the flickering torch-light. The fires were dampening, one by one, in the rain, and darkness was encroaching. Rakesh moved imperceptibly closer to the edge of the bed.

"Fuck your 'happy ever after'."

Gael was done talking. He fired the gun.

Rakesh dodged the shot just in time. He leapt for the Lamy pen he'd used to saw his ropes.

Unlike Gael, the young banker wasn't wounded. The advantage in speed gave Rakesh the edge. He yelled out, leaped, and sunk the razor-sharp pen tip into Gael's calf.

Gael screamed in pain. He hobbled over. He clutched the Beretta firmly.

Rakesh leapt up, grasped Diana by the hand, and the pair began to run.

"The speedboat," Rakesh heaved, as they sprinted through the thinning throng. "On the other side of the house."

—

CAMERAWORK is all HAND-HELD. Jagged. Rapid whips.

Lightning explodes in sharp, electric arcs, illuminating the tropical estate around them.

Diana and Rakesh run full-pelt in the rain.

CUT:

Behind them, Gael lopes, a determined, hunched form in the flashing storm.

He's horrifically scalded and wounded, but pure adrenaline scorches through his arteries, powering him forward. He moves faster and faster.

—

The couple arced around the estate, threw open the side gate, and entered the outdoor deck. They moved rapidly, soaked by the pouring rain, circling the pool and the limestone hot tub. They beelined for the periphery of the sea, where the speedboat was parked.

When they got there, there was a problem.

There was no boat to be found.

"Shit," swore Rakesh, "It was here. I know it was here!"

The two moved along the ocean-front, frantically scanning for the speedboat they knew they'd seen anchored there last night.

Diana's heart raced. She was still rattled from the sudden turn of events, along with the gory, shocking sight of Gael, and the demented glaze in her ex-boyfriend's eyes.

Leaves rustled behind them, and she gave another start.

Gael pushed his muscled frame through a wall of laurel hedges that lined the side of the pool opposite from the gate the couple had entered. He shuffled onto the deck, spilling fresh blood. The gun hung loosely at his side.

Rakesh was astonished. How had the wounded star caught up so quickly?

"Thought you'd end up here," snarled Gael. He lumbered forward. "Luckily, I know all the shortcuts."

Rakesh's sight dropped uneasily to the Beretta in Gael's fist. With his peripheral vision, he scanned the terrain around them. There was the wide open pool deck spittled by rain, with nowhere to hide. Behind him, he felt the expanse of the ocean, churning cold and deep in the unforgiving storm.

They had no way out.

"So you lied," Gael said to Diana, closing the distance one hobbled, bloodied step at a time. Before he fired his pistol again, he needed to speak his piece. "You told me you loved me. Said you loved us both. And now you're running off with him."

"I — What happened to you?" Diana was still reeling. The stunning sight of his burned, hemorrhaged face and body were only part of the horror; it was the psychotic rage that filmed over his eyes that shook her most.

She had seen hints of that look before, far back in their relationship when he had flown into his jealous fits. But he had never seemed this terrifying.

"He's a monster," said Rakesh, his eyes never leaving the star's lurching form. "I saw his plans. He planned to kill me all along."

Diana's eyes stretched, snapping from one man to the other.

"But you stopped that happening," Gael snarled. "You stopped me and left me to burn in my shed. Left me to die. All to get your lying wife to yourself — plus the five million."

Gael was coming past the hot tub, and only twenty feet remained between him and the couple. The gun was still brandished at his side.

If he shot now, he'd have a strong chance of making his target.

He loped forward. They were going nowhere. He wanted more than a chance.

"There's a price for all that." Now Gael raised his gun.

Rakesh moved, instinctively, to shield his wife.

"Your life."

Instead, Diana stepped in front of him.

"You're wrong," she said.

"Diana, don—"

"Shut your fucking face, Rakesh."

Her frigid words stunned both the others. Gael stopped in his tracks, gun still flexed in their direction.

Rain sluiced over their naked bodies. The downpour was now at its strongest. Diana turned contemptuously to her husband.

"He's wrong because I wasn't lying," she said.

Both the men stood, staring. She turned back towards Gael.

"I do love you."

—

The rapid patter of rain RISES on the soundtrack. Heady. Overpowering.

—

The men stared.

The downpour gushed over Diana's hair. She drew the shining wet strands back over her ears. She took a small step forward.

"Did you really think I was going to leave with him?" she asked Gael.

Lightning flashed.

She seemed to twist her hips ever-so-slightly, and both men's eyes dropped to her perfect body, captured in the strobing light — Gael's view from in front of her, Rakesh from the back.

She could feel their stares. Even in the bizarre duress of this intensified moment, she knew how magnetic she was capable of being. Both the men noticed as Diana took another dripping step forward, water cascading down her naked curves.

"Baby, what are you talking about?" asked Rakesh.

"I thought I told you," Diana replied in a voice of slivered ice. Her sultry eyes were still fixated on Gael. "To shut your fucking face."

Lightning flashed. Diana took another step forward. She was halfway between the men.

Gael held his pistol steady.

"No. Answer him," Gael said. "What are you talking about?"

A pause.

"After we won the Games," she replied. Sheets of rain showered over her, shining off her tan, naked skin. "I sure as hell wasn't going to waste five million dollars going back to my boring old life."

She turned halfway. She glanced at her husband. A disbelieving crease corrugated his forehead.

"I meant what I said in the shower this morning." She turned her head back to Gael. "I want you. Not him."

Lightning flashed again. Diana's unearthly silhouette was stunning against the bursting light.

She was fully aware of it. Both men took in her curvaceous profile.

Diana took another step closer to Gael.

"You remember what I said..."

Her eyes were locked on the disfigured star's. Her hands trailed slowly, almost imperceptibly, up her sides. She didn't look down, but she could feel the growing heat of Gael's arousal.

"I love you," she said. There was a sincere, irresistible purr of emotion under the words.

Instinctively, Gael's gun hand lowered slightly. Diana was only a couple feet away now.

Lightning cracked again.

From behind her, Rakesh watched his beautiful naked wife move closer to Gael in the pouring rain. His fists clenched tight. His limbs began to shiver in the tropical shower.

He could not comprehend just what was happening. He didn't want to believe it.

"Diana —" he said shakily.

She whipped around. Her face was snarled with menace. Rakesh had never seen her like this.

"I'll say it for the last time," Diana spat at the man she had married. "Shut your fucking mouth... Or I'll tell him to shoot you right now."

To both their surprise, Gael simply raised his pistol again. Pointed past Diana, aimed at Rakesh.

"That's what I'll do anyway."

Diana placed a soft hand on Gael's forearm.

"Gael," she said.

"If you think you can fool me, like your goddamn husband with his pathetic begging," Gael batted her hand off with an angry, charred paw. "You got another thing coming —"

"Look," Diana glanced at Rakesh, then moved in front of the gun. She lowered her voice so only Gael could hear it under the whooshing storm.

"I want you to kill him."

Rakesh craned his ears from his position behind her, but the half-whisper didn't carry. His mind began to race.

"I want him dead. So I can be with just you." Diana's eyes were large, urgent.

Gael registered her slowly and silently. His monstrously scarred brow narrowed in. Despite the pain shooting across his extremities, a small trembling jolt of joy surged in his heart.

"But you know what turns me on more than anything else..." Diana's voice dropped to a sultry murmur.

The wet vixen curled her body closer, drawing Gael's attention to her rain-slicked curves. She moved up, pressing hotly along his stretched arm. The sub-compact Beretta was still trained on Rakesh.

She pressed her soaking nakedness against Gael's chest. She was inches from his face.

"Humiliating that fucking cuck..." she whispered.

Rakesh watched with clutching dread as his wife pushed herself into Gael's naked embrace, speaking softly to him all the while. The gun was still pointed firmly in Rakesh's direction.

"Keep the gun in your hand," Diana whispered, further setting Gael's mind at ease about her intentions.

She leaned forward and kissed him passionately.

Searing pain torched through Gael's face and body, both from the heated kiss on his charred lips, and from Diana's soft skin pressing at his freshly burned flesh.

He didn't give a fuck. He felt her pure, hungry love emanating over him.

The woman of his dreams was finally his...

When the fiery kiss ended, Diana turned sideways against her ex's body. She gazed across the stormy deck at her poor husband. Cruelty simmered in her eyes.

This time she spoke loud enough for him to hear her, even as thunder crackled overhead.

"Before you kill him," she said to Gael. "Let him watch one last time..."

With that she grinned at Rakesh. It was a smile of pure evil.

She slid her wet body down Gael's anterior and sunk to her knees.

Rakesh felt himself dissociate. He watched with clammy palms and hollow innards, sensing an urge to rush straight at the pair and a simultaneous clamping of his bare feet on the soaking ground.

A bum-rush would have had no happy outcome, anyway. Gael's gun was locked on target. He would have been dead in seconds.

He had no choice but to stand there with a racing heart. He had to simply watch the final show of his life.

Rakesh noted a sheen in Diana's eyes that seemed to glow even through the coating rain. Kneeling, she looked at her husband and reached for Gael's cock.

The massive rod hung low between his thighs, semi-hard. It was unscathed from the fire. To the hotwife, it was as beautiful as ever.

She wrapped one wet hand around it.

"Look, lover," Diana said in a teasing tone to Rakesh. "Look at this big, hard cock for the last time..."

Rakesh swallowed hard. All sensation slammed back into his body. It was at that moment he knew that what was happening was real.

Once she made Gael cum, Rakesh was done for.

With slow, gentle strokes, Diana brought her ex's member to life between her wet fingers. All the while, she kept her cruel eyes focused on her husband.

His face was a mask of pain. He stared steadily at his wife with sustained disbelief.

And yet... he hated himself for it, loathed the responses of his physiology... he felt his cock stir as he watched her.

How the fuck was he growing excited, staring down the barrel of the gun that was going to spell his demise?

The answer was simple. In the stormy milieu fifteen feet away, Diana was a sexy, rain-drenched vision on her knees. An evil, sexual succubus. The naughty, naked wife massaged Gael's cock, turning to watch as it firmed to its full, gloriously impressive shape.

"Mmm... yessss," she moaned.

She leaned in. She laved his hefty, wet balls with the tip of her tongue. Gael groaned, a slight wince of corporeal pain coloring his pleasure. The Beretta wavered briefly in his grasp.

"Look at that, Rakesh," Diana moaned back at her husband, stroking the growing monster faster. "See that huge fucking cock? I love his cock... I love him... Fuck you..."

Rakesh's nails dug into his palms. This was far from the first time Diana had humiliated him, but this was a different level altogether. This was the ultimate cuckolding...

The final time before his wife's lover killed him.

Diana licked her way up Gael's large balls. She dragged the bottom of her tongue up the length of his shaft. Gael shut his eyes and groaned.

Lightning cracked again. Thunder rumbled. Somewhere on the island, there rose the distant sound of motored vehicles and a filtered voice on a speaker system. The Games must have rallied together some sort of emergency response after the chaos of the shooting. Maybe a security team would find them here.

Would they be in time to save Rakesh's life?

The prospect dimmed quickly to zero. Diana teased Gael further with a practiced swirl of her lips around his cock-head. She bobbed her mouth on the movie star's massive organ. He groaned. Then she looked up with anxious, hot eyes.

She was so fucking beautiful with his cock in her mouth. She drew moistily off of it.

"I'm going to be sucking this big fat dick for the rest of my life... and fucking it... and taking your cum..."

With that, she bent forward and slid her lips all the way over him. She knew she was the only woman Gael had ever met in his prolific sex life who could deep-throat him, and she knew just the reaction it would elicit.

She was on the money. He threw his head back. He swore out. His right hand swung down involuntarily, dangling the gun at his side.

Rakesh noticed. He had no plan to speak of, but without the weapon pointing straight at him, a prick of hope urged at his instincts. Lightning flashed, and he edged a step closer.

Diana sucked Gael's cock with hungry, restless abandon. She fingered his giant balls.

The adrenaline of the tortuous evening must have pumped Gael to the brink, because she felt the hefty nads dance in her hand. He was close.

She slobbered off his shaft, letting it bounce heavily in the rain. She noticed the gun, now held loosely near the side of her face.

She turned, once again, to glance at Rakesh.

The first thing she perceived was that he had moved in closer. The second was that his cock was protruding straight up from his crotch.

"Oh my gosh," she said. Gael hard cock rested on her cheek while an evil little giggle escaped her lips. "Look how hard you are... you pathetic little cuck."

Rakesh breathed heavily as his kneeling wife humiliated him. He couldn't possibly explain his tortured depravity. His dick only pulsed harder in the rain.

"Look at my husband's little dick," she said to Gael. "Soon you're going to kill that little-dicked loser... just for me..."

A grin spread, twisted and scorched, across Gael's marred features. Diana was right: it was a lot more fun to torture her husband one final time before pulling the trigger. They were going to have a delightful life together...

"He's sooo much smaller than you," she teased, letting each word corkscrew into Rakesh's chest.

She turned her head to the sub-compact pistol swinging by her side.

"Even this gun is bigger than that pathetic cock."

Her tongue stole out while she looked at her husband. She slid its wet tip up along the gleaming steel barrel.

"I'd rather suck this than your cock, Rakesh," she said between titillating licks along the steel weapon. "That's right... Mmmm.. I'd rather suck the fucking thing he's going to shoot you with..."

Lightning. A crash of thunder.

Rakesh kept his unblinking eyes on the sordid tableau before him, and inched forward.

"But why would I do that?" Diana returned her eyes to Gael's. She let her hand snake back around his hard phallus. "When I have this gorgeous cock... to lick..."

She sluiced her tongue further up the gun barrel, eyes locked on Gael's.

To the movie star, it was a sinful, compelling sight, more electrifying than any image from one of his films. His beautiful ex-girlfriend — soon to be his, his partner, his lover forever — was on her knees before him, nude in the showering rain. His giant erection was in her hand. She was gazing up with munificent love in her eyes, running her tongue up the cold steel of the pistol between his fingers.

Gael cackled out loud. Diana was his wicked, sexy bitch... taking such a perverse glee in fellating the weapon that would soon murder her husband...

She licked all the way up the barrel. She stroked Gael gently as her tongue neared the rear sight atop the grip.

"It's your cock I love," she breathed, massaging him faster. "Your beautiful balls..."

Her tongue traveled around the slide stop and curled wetly down to the trigger guard — the "balls" of this simulated cock.

"I love your balls," Diana whispered naughtily.

She kept her eyes on Gael and her grip on his dick. She began to lick his index finger, held tight against the gun's trigger.

The slippery sensation caught him off-guard. Diana's tongue tickled his skin.

His grip loosened. The trigger guard slipped between his fingers.

Diana wrenched at his cock like a twist-off bottle-cap.

Gael screamed in ungodly pain as she grabbed the pistol. She hurled it hard, behind her.