You Sexy, Sexy Bitch!

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Cuckolding/hot-wife themed story.
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YOU SEXY, SEXY BITCH by Andrew1968

This is a cuckolding/hot-wife themed story. Please be aware of that. This story features cuckolding and hot-wife related themes. It features cheating themes. Please don't say you weren't warned. I will, as always, delete all rude and useless comments. I will, as always, delete all rude and useless incoming email.

Characters:

Martina: a sexy, sexy bitch

Mark: Martina's fiancé and husband

Michael: Martina's "secret" older lover

Other assorted useful geriatrics

I hope fans of these types of stories enjoy this one.

*********

There was a prolonged series of sneezes, instantly followed by an uncontrollable outburst of coughs. The noise was coming from the main bedroom. It was loud. It was harsh. It was grating. It made Martina wince and fume. Martina closed her eyes and quietly counted to ten. She opened her eyes again. She breathed in and out. She felt like screaming and throwing something.

"Are you okay in there, babe," Martina asked, feeling annoyed and on edge. "Is there anything I can do for you, is there anything I can get for you?"

Martina's fiancé, Mark tried to answer, but he only managed a few croaky words before erupting into more coughs and sneezes.

Martina rolled her eyes and shrugged. She threw her hands up in the air. She kept getting ready. She had already pulled a pink singlet top on over her head. She had wriggled into her tiny thin white shorts. She had rolled a pair of pink socks on her pretty little feet and now she was sitting on the edge of the bath tub and squeezing her toes into her pink running shoes.

A text message arrived a moment later. Martina turned and picked up her mobile phone. She knew the text was from Michael. She relaxed a little. She managed to smile. She read the text. Michael had written:

'You're running late, baby. Are you still coming over? I have something hard to give you.'

Martina softly chuckled and then she sighed. She was diverted for a moment but then she felt annoyed again. She muttered. She silently cursed her fiancé. She began messaging back. Her slim fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard. She tapped and tapped and tapped and then pressed send. She wrote:

'Mark's home today because he's APPARENTLY sick... He APPARENTLY can't go to work... He APPARENTLY can't even get out of bed... I feel so put out and angry this morning. His coughing and sneezing are driving me up the effin wall! I'm so effin pissed off! I'm definitely coming over. I really need to get laid today. It's just taking more time than usual to get there this morning.'

Martina stood up. She walked across the bathroom and preened in front of the mirror. She put her phone down on the box of tissues. She picked up her brush and quickly ran it through her long fine dark hair. She put the brush down and picked up a small round hair band. She tied her mane back in a gleaming ponytail. She fussed and fiddled with her clothing. She looked sexy. She looked hot. She wasn't wearing a bra or any panties. She would be nice and sweaty by the time she arrived at Michael's apartment at the end of her run. Her thin pink singlet would be wet and glued to her upper body. Her tight hot pants would be soaked through. Martina grinned. Michael loved it when she showed up each morning at the end of her run saturated with perspiration and dying to screw him.

Suddenly there was another outburst of sneezing and coughing followed by Mark blowing his nose and groaning. Martina froze, gasped and became angry again. Then another text message arrived from Michael.

"Why can't you just fucking go to fucking work, Mark," Martina hissed, snatching up her mobile, feeling furious with her fiancé. "Why aren't you at your desk, where you belong? Why aren't you doing your job? You're not that sick. You're just being fucking lazy!"

Martina ran her dark green eyes over the text from Michael. The message cheered her up. The text message made her smile, hum and absent mindedly preen herself for a moment. The text from Martina's boyfriend read:

'I'm aching for you - I want you impaled on my dick, Martina, where you belong!'

Martina softly chuckled and typed back. She grinned and shook her head as she hit send. Her message read:

'Yeah, ditto, baby. I've been obsessing over your cock all morning. I've been dying to suck you off from the moment I woke up and opened my eyes. Look, Mark's coughing and sneezing again! I'll leave here soon, I promise. I can't wait to get there. I'll be there as soon as I can, Mike-honey!'

There was another incoming text message, but Martina ignored it. She picked up her bum-bag. She unzipped the bag and pushed her mobile phone inside. She zipped the bag closed again. She ran it around her waist. She snapped the ends closed and then adjusted it. Martina looked up and considered her facial features in the bathroom mirror. Her complexion was lightly tanned. She had piercing angry looking eyes. She had a tight hard mouth and a slightly pinched expression. She was very good looking, but she was clearly a spiteful bitch.

For a second Martina wondered why Mark loved and adored her so much. Her fiancé worshipped the ground she walked on. He really was a sucker for cold hearted sadistic women. Martina had slept with more than a few men behind his back since they started dating two years ago. She had never told her fiancé that she was going to bed with guys without his knowledge or permission, but she would sooner or later. Martina would casually announce it, as if it wasn't a big deal, when the time was right. She would let Mark in on the well known secret when he was feeling particularly vulnerable, Martina thought with a soft smile and a warm glow inside. Maybe she would inform Mark of her relentless infidelity in front of her fiancé's family. Maybe she would make her declaration while they were out partying with their friends.

"You put you first and everyone else last," Martina softly intoned at her beautiful flawless reflection, reinforcing her sense of self through her favorite incantation. "You go and get what you want and everyone else can wait and go without. You come first, second and third, you sexy, sexy bitch."

Martina gently nodded. She closed her eyes and softly inhaled and exhaled. She hummed to herself. A second later there were more coughs and sneezing coming from the bedroom. Martina froze, she opened her eyes and then she fumed. She turned and strode out of the bathroom.

Mark was lying under the bed covers. He looked pale and his nose looked red and raw from blowing it and rubbing it so much. A large pile of wet snotty tissues sat in the middle of the bed. A small rubbish bin, dumped on the floor on Mark's side of the bed was filled with sticky used tissue balls. He had boxes of cold and flu medication resting on the bedside drawer nearby. Martina thought he looked weak and pathetic. He didn't look masculine. She was turned off. She was contemptuous. Men weren't supposed to get sick like this, Martina believed. Michael never got sick.

"Are you okay, Mark," Martina impatiently asked, after walking into their bedroom. "Do you need anything? Can I get you anything?"

Mark looked at his fiancé through his watery eyes. Martina was definitely keeping her distance from him for obvious reasons. She looked so sexy in her running gear. She was so fit and she was built and strong. Mark's fiancé loved physical exercise, whether it was running along the coast for hours, or working up a sweat at their local gym or socking it to Mark all night. Martina was a little dynamo with a pretty six-pack, thick limbs and endless energy. Mark knew she was impatient though - she was blunt and rude as well.

"Mark, answer me," Martina demanded, before sighing, rolling her eyes and looking exasperated. "I don't have all day. I'm already late for my run because of you."

Mark groaned. He reached out and tore another tissue from the box and blew his sore nose. Martina sighed. She tapped her foot. She watched her fiancé. His facial features looked wet with sweat and his hair stood on end. He was clearly feverish. He had been pushing the blanket off and pulling the blanket back on all morning. He was coughing again. Martina thought of Michael lying there, stretched out naked on his bed. She thought of his long thick prick lying on his belly. She pictured Michael grinning and inviting her to join him. Martina broke into a smile. Her eyes lit up. She licked her lips. She imagined herself clothes-less, racing in and leaping on Michael with a burst of laughter. She pictured Michael putting her on her back and then nailing her with his cock. She came back to the present moment a few seconds later. She sighed and tapped her foot again. Martina was so in the mood for sex.

Mark was speaking, but Martina was tuned out - she tuned back in.

"What Mark, what did you say," Martina snapped.

"I'm so sorry," Mark said, aware of his fiancé's annoyance. "Normally I don't take sick days, even when I'm feeling a bit run down. I'm sorry if I'm messing up your day."

"Well, yeah, you're not supposed to be here during the day - are you?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know - I just feel like shit, I feel like death warmed up. I'm really sorry, Martina."

"I know, I know, that's okay, that's okay, it's not your fault you're sick, I suppose...," Martina said, while pasting a sympathetic smile on her twitching face while her sexual frustration, her impatience and her annoyance simmered and stewed below the surface. "You said you can't go to work today and I'm sure you're probably right... You'll be okay and back at your desk tomorrow though, I'm absolutely sure of that, Mark..."

There was another burst of noise from Mark. Martina whined with displeasure. Once again she suddenly felt like screaming at Mark. She felt like throwing something at him. She resisted. She mentally began counting to ten again. She kept her twitchy sympathetic smile in place. Mark managed to say something more, but his fiancé cut him off.

"Mark, I'm going to go for my run now," Martina stated, reaching out and picking up her cap, making sure she put as much distance between Mark and herself as she could. "Do you need anything? Do you want me to pick up some more medicine for you from the supermarket?"

"Yeah babe, that would be good," Mark croaked. "Maybe you could get some more cough syrup while you're out."

"Yeah, good, I'm glad you don't need me hanging around, making you chicken soup and taking care of you. I guess I probably should, like a good little woman does, but I'm glad I don't have to. I don't want to catch what you have. I've got a lot to do today."

Mark nodded aggressively. He coughed. He could see that his good looking female was bristling. She was biting her tongue.

"No, I don't wanna mess up your daily routine, gorgeous. Go out and enjoy your run. When will you be home?"

"Oh, later, babe, much later," Martina said, her eyes lighting up and a grin slowly growing on her face. "I'll probably get caught up doing this and that for most of the day. I don't think I'll be home until this evening. You'll have to survive until then."

"Ummm, yeah sure, babe," Mark answered. "Your days are always so full and so busy."

"Uh huh, oh yeah, they sure are," Martina said, still grinning. "I may not go to a regular job like you, babe, but I always have my daily hum-drum protocol: I go for my run in the morning and then I'm doing my frantic, epileptic, acrobatic routine like some sort of crazy person for the rest of the day. I do eventually come home and eat the delicious meals you cook for me though."

"Yeah, you like my cooking," Mark stated proudly.

"I sure do," Martina stated. "You're my dream fiancé - you're just perfect - you have a good job, sort out and pay the bills, cook and clean - you're amazing, I can't wait to marry you. I like coming home in the evening and devouring the hot hard meal you have ready for me..."

"Yeah, bedtime's certainly fun around here," Mark said, breathlessly, slowly running his streaming eyes over the muscular frame of his feminine dynamo and feeling his cock stir.

"Uh huh, though it's often too short for my tastes, particularly when a certain wannabee who'll go unnamed gets too worked up and blows it too soon or, even worse, the wannabee complains about being tired, needing sleep and can't play at all - that really pisses me off."

"It's really hard going round after round, hour after hour, night after night with you, babe. You're just, you're just..."

"Insatiable is the word you seem to be searching for - I guess I don't need as much sleep, unlike others," Martina muttered.

Mark laughed hoarsely and then coughed endlessly. He spoke again while Martina glared, fiddled and tapped her foot. Mark broke into more sneezes. He snatched at another tissue. Martina continued talking. She had reached the end of her already short reserve of patience. She didn't want to talk to Mark anymore. She wanted Michael.

"Mark," Martina stated, putting her cap on her head, "I'm going running before it gets too hot. A bit of sweat is healthy and attractive, but too much sweat's not so appealing. I'll see you later. I'm assuming you can't cook so you'll need to order a delivery of something for dinner tonight. Please don't just get pizza. Make sure you wash your hands and cover your mouth. Don't touch anything which is mine, particularly my food!"

"Absolutely Martina," Mark said, nodding and then coughing explosively.

Martina sighed. She then turned on the spot and with a cold mean laugh pranced out of the bedroom she shared with Mark. Her fiancé watched her go with a slight soft smile playing on his features, before he started coughing again. She unzipped her bum-bag and pulled out her mobile phone once she was in the corridor. There were a number of text messages from Michael. Martina unlocked the front door to her apartment. She stepped out into the stairwell. She closed and locked the front door behind her. She stood on the spot outside her home and rapidly tapped on her phone keyboard.

'Okay I'm leaving now, honey. I'm so in the mood for it. You and I are gonna be at it most of the day I'm afraid!'

A response from Michael came through just seconds later. Martina ignored her phone. She pushed her mobile back into her bum-bag and zipped it up. She was ready for her run. She was ready to start her busy day. Her footfalls were light as she sprinted down the three flights of stairs leading to the noisy street below.

*

Martina's dark ponytail swung from side to side as she ran along the coastline. Her limbs moved rhythmically and gracefully. Her breathing was gentle and barely labored. Her running shoes softly slapped against the winding path as she slowly ascended, turned right at the summit and then followed the coastal track as it gently wound its way down to the waterline below.

Martina could smell the salt in the air. A translucent haze thrown up by the thundering ocean hung everywhere. The hot mid morning sun streamed through the salt mist. She could hear the rumble and the pounding of the sea, along with her own footfalls on the path. She could hear seabirds. She could hear her own intake and expulsion of breath.

A couple of men had approached and propositioned Martina as she completed her daily morning run to Michael's apartment. The guys were both good looking and wealthy. She had seen and spoken with them before. The males were both much older than she was, but they were both friendly and easy going. They jogged alongside her and flirted with her. They made her laugh. Martina momentarily stopped running. She exchanged phone numbers with both men. She promised faithfully, with her hand on her heart, that she would either accept a call from them or else make an effort to call them herself.

"Sure, I'll go out to dinner with you," Martina promised the first guy, putting her phone back in her bum-bag after collecting his digits. "Absolutely, I will - I'll call you and we'll set up a date, Jake. Yes, yes, I promise I'll call you. Babe - look, look, I've gotta keep running. I don't wanna cool off too much. Yeah, yeah, call me, Jake-honey and leave me a voice message! Yeah, yeah, thanks for the compliment - I know I look hot and sexy, I always do!"

The second guy Martina shared her mobile phone number with owned a home nearby. Martina had been so tempted to abruptly change her plans, blow Michael off and go back to her new friend's place. She felt a sudden desire for him. She was momentarily willing to join him in the sack and have sex with him. Martina, however, pictured Michael lying there on his bed naked with a cheeky grin and a big hard on and she changed her mind. She really did feel like Michael this morning.

"I'm sorry, honey," Martina stated, turning and beginning to run, but looking back over her shoulder. "I'll call you I promise!"

"How about a quick kiss then before you race off to who knows where to do who knows what?"

"Oh boy," Martina whined, abruptly stopping, turning on the spot, considering her options, and then finally running back to the older male who was waiting for her with an obvious erection in his shorts.

"Okay, babe," Martina said, stopping in front of him, "just one, just a quick one and then I really gotta go."

The older horny guy took Martina in his arms. He leant in. She closed her eyes and parted her lips. His mouth met hers. Martina sighed, pressed her body up against his and ran her arms around his form. They shared a deep passionate kiss in the middle of the running track while other people jogged around them. Martina knew the man she was kissing wanted access to her mouth and she gave it to him. She placed her hand right on his hard dick and tickled the underside of his knob with her fingertips through his shorts. He cupped and cradled her head in his large palm and gently crushed her breast with his other hand. She broke the contact two hot minutes later. She grinned and exhaled in his face. He wanted more, so much more.

"Gotta go, babe," Martina stated, tearing herself free of his clasping arms.

"Wait!"

"Uh uh, no chance, you call me, leave me a message and I'll get back to you about a date," Martina stated, already starting to run away from him. She couldn't help but grin. She left him standing there in the middle of the path, looking desperate, shell shocked, twitching and she assumed coming in his shorts.

A number of other men ogled Martina as she followed her regular course from her home to Michael's home. She grinned at the guys but refused to stop for any of them. Martina understood the reasons for their interest. She was physically appealing. She was attractive. She possessed the air, the aura, of someone who was available and willing to mate despite being engaged to be married to someone else. Moreover, her running efforts in the mid morning heat had caused her to perspire and her clothing was saturated in her sweat. Everyone who approached her from the opposite direction could see the clear and distinct outline of Martina's breasts through the tight wet pink singlet top she was wearing. They could also see the shadow of her dark pubic hair through her tight soaked white shorts. Martina thought one horny older male, she flashed by, on the running track, was going to have a heart attack as he leered at her beautiful wet form while she grinned at him, blew him a kiss and kept on running.

Martina briefly remembered one older horny man she had crudely propositioned in the supermarket one afternoon just a few weeks after Mark had proposed marriage to her and she had said yes. She had been at the gym. She was pumped up. She was feeling strong and healthy. She needed sex. She had taken the older horny man to a local motel. She had stripped down in front of him and the two of them had fucked again and again. Martina had been insatiable that afternoon. The horny older man had actually suffered a heart attack while squeezing out his third orgasm into Martina's tight wet snatch. The man had survived, Martina later found out, but it did make Martina wary, at least a little bit wary and at least for a little while...