Hotwife Fantasies 4 - She's His Party Favor

Hotwife Fantasies 4 - She's His Party Favor

by Don Jetman


I saw Alicia talking to him across the room. It looked like innocent chatting, but I looked for some erotic expression or gesture that might go unnoticed by her coworkers. Suddenly, she burst into laughter, bending toward him at the waist, her body shaking uncontrollably an instant after his joke. She steadied herself with a hand on his arm and looked up with a dazzling smile. He was a head taller than she, broad shouldered, towering over her in his Brioni suit, the luminous white shirt a sharp contrast to his dark skin beneath it.

Later, Alicia returned to me as though she had something to say, picked at the buffet as she filled a small plate, then led me off to a table. On our way, she hesitated, turned to me, and told me, "See that guy over there? The handsome Black guy in the dark suit?"

I looked for a few seconds and recognized him as the man who had made her laugh.

"I saw you talking to him a few minutes ago. Something he said must have been really funny."

She gave me one of her sideways glances. Something was up.

She had one d r i n k, and a fruity, watered down one at that. But sometimes that was enough to get her started, especially when she was happy and horny at the same time. We were far enough from the other guests that no one could hear her explain.

"You don't know who he is, do you?" she asked.

"Um, no - I guess I heard someone else say his name earlier. I haven't met him. Should I?"

Alicia turned to face me, looking up with a serious, somewhat guilty stare.

"I met him right after we got here. He's - he's, well - the CEO of our company. He's been flirting with me all night. He knows I'm married, but just a few minutes ago he told me he's going to fuck me, here, tonight, and there's nothing my husband can do about it."

I glanced around to make sure we were not within hearing distance of her coworkers. Strangely, Alicia didn't seem to care as much.

"Well, that's pretty fucking rude, isn't it? I mean, just telling another man's wife that? Who does he think he is?" I said to her, squirming at the possibility.

She looked at me quietly for a minute with the same guilty stare, then began again in a soft whisper.

"Tom, he said I looked like I needed sex, and that I wouldn't be able to say no to him. He said he knew you didn't satisfy me, and that I needed a good fucking to enjoy the rest of the night."

It was as though this disturbing, fictional movie had become reality to an unsuspecting husband and wife. Her face was unflinching with a mix of uncertainty and embarrassment.

"And he thinks I won't stop it?" I argued. "He thinks I won't go over there and - "

"Baby, look at him. He's a foot taller and twenty years younger that you. You can't start a fight here in front of the people I work with. Besides, I think you'd get hurt. Just look at him."

I thought about the embarrassment, and the ass-kicking I'll probably get. Alicia took me by my belt with her fingers inside the waist of my pants and pulled me closer. Her breasts were touching my chest, and she was still looking up with the same guilty expression.

"I think I have to do it, Tom. It's something about the way he ordered me to do it - the way his voice seemed to invade me, then rush through me for a second like a wave of fever. I think I knew, just as soon as he said it, that I had to."

I showed both offense and s u b m i s s i o n, uncertain which was stronger. Strangely, I was getting hard, and my thin dress slacks didn't hide a boner well. Leaking precum through them would be a disaster. Slow down. Concentrate. How could this happen? And why was I excited by it? Yes, he was a powerful man in more ways than one, but to simply announce that he would fuck Alicia, there at the party?

"So, he thinks he can just go up to a man's wife, talk to her for a few minutes, and she'll let him fuck her? When her husband's right there, across the room? And after that, you tell him you'll do it? That it's okay to fuck you? I - I don't know what to say to you. Why? How could you do that?"

She tugged my belt again, inching me closer. Her face was more intense, almost fearful. Her eyes were wide and liquid, with a wildness I had never seen in her before.

"I could have done it behind your back, Tom. I could have sneaked off somewhere and let him fuck me and never told you. But I can't do that. He made me tell you. He wants you to know. He wants you to know I can't say 'no' to him, and that he's going to fuck me, all before it happens. He - is - going - to - fuck - me. Here. Tonight. With his connections, he could not only fire me, he could ruin our lives. You just have to let him. You have to wait until it's over, then accept it. He wants me to make it clear, to make sure you know all this, and he wants you to hear it from me."

"You sound like you want it to happen," I told her. "Do you? Are you attracted to him?"

Her face was flushed, her eyes widening as I spoke. Somehow I got the words out I was afraid to say, stammering as I tried.

"Are - are you wet for him?"

She moved her hand to my lap, closing it softly over my erection.

"Are you hard for me, Tom? Thinking of his hands on me? Of that huge body on top of me? Maybe you're considering that giving your wife's body to him is a sacrifice you can make? One that actually excites you?"

"I - I'm not sure I can, Alicia. And I don't understand why I'm hard. It's not something I want. But the thought of you, I mean, with him, naked, letting him..."

She closed her fingers around the bulge in my pants, squeezing and releasing, grasping my erection more tightly each time. I was paralyzed with the thought of him thrusting inside her and the jealousy and rage that fought against it.

"What if it wasn't a sacrifice at all, Tom? What if I not only agreed to it, but wanted it? What if it wasn't a threat by him, but something I've fantasized about from the minute he told me this tonight? Not blackmail, but something taboo and exciting that might bring a fantasy to life? And from what I'm feeling in your lap, a secret fantasy of yours too?"

Alicia smiled, then stood beside me, smoothing her little black dress as if she was preparing herself for him. Tugging at the hem of the dress pulled the deeply scooped neckline lower, exposing even more of her firm, ivory breasts. "I want this, Tom. I really do. I think you do too. You just don't know how much yet."

She walked across the room to him, hips swaying a bit as I imagined her thighs pressed together against the damp crease between her legs. She nodded as they spoke, and I saw a wide smile appear on his face. I sat at the table and watched, mostly to try to both hide and deflate my erection. Wasn't she afraid the people she works with would see - that he wanted to fuck her, and that she was obviously willing?

I moved to the bar again to grab a beer. There a few of her coworkers I know chatted with me, asked about our holiday plans, and eventually asked where Alicia had disappeared for such a long time. I pretended I didn't know, excused myself, then circled the room to look for her. I checked outside the hotel conference room, up and down the halls and lobby, but didn't see any sign of her. They entered the conference room nearly an hour later, chatting just as they had earlier in the evening. If they had fucked, there was no sign of it.

I returned to our table just in time to greet Alicia and her CEO there with his arm around her waist. She invited him to sit, and he did, beside her, straight across the table from me.

"Tom, this is Mr. Washington, our CEO. Mr. Washington, my husband, Tom."

He sat with us as though it was entirely appropriate, immediately after his promise to fuck Alicia. A DJ was playing oldies, and people danced and chatted through the evening. Alicia and Mr. Washington talked about work mostly, and I listened. She tried to bring me into the conversation now and then, but it felt strange trying desperately to avoid the inevitable subject of his promise to ravish my wife. He stared at her cleavage as he talked to her, never showing any sense of propriety or respect. He casually remarked, over and over, how stunning Alicia looked in her tiny black dress, how he was sure she had chosen it to "show off" her body's curves. Then, looking straight across the table at me with a wide grin, he said it revealed just enough to make men "want to see more - much more". When he noticed how uncomfortable I was with his lecherous flattery, he decided it was time to take a harder stand, one where he knew he had the upper hand.

"I suppose Ali told you about our little talk earlier? Don't deny it - it was my demand that you know. When I saw the two of you enter this evening, I knew I had to have her, at least once. And I knew you'd stand aside and let me. It's often the subtle impressions I get from couples like you that are a tell. It's an inherent talent I have, and I'm almost never wrong. She's just a little too hot for you, Tom; you're not quite in her league, are you? And I'd be willing to bet that I'm not the only man who knows it, including you. With Ali, sometimes it's her eyes, the way they're constantly searching, reading the crowd, freezing for just an instant on a man that makes her catch her breath. With you, Tom, it's the adoring concern, knowing that another man, a better man, is always on your doorstep, waiting for the chance to charm her, use her body for a night, then pass her back to you. Have you ever been aware of any of those little clues in Ali, or in yourself, Tom?"

"I think you're cherry-picking any little trait you see to convince yourself you have some extraordinary power to fuck other men's wives," I told him.

"Maybe so, Tom. Maybe so. But you know, Tom, the power I'm 'convinced' I have does seem to work, almost every time. It certainly has tonight."

I looked at Alicia's expression, trying to discern what her eyes might tell me. She stared at the table top for a few seconds, then turned to Mr. Washington. "Are you going to make me tell him?"

He chuckled, and told her it was the part he liked best, remembering the details, then laying them out before the husband in a way that cemented his power over the couple. He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a wrinkled scrap of black lace, Alicia's tiny thong she had teased me with before we left the house.

"Do you like it?" she had asked while we dressed, grinning hopefully. "Isn't it pretty? It barely covers my pussy, I know, but it's sexy, isn't it?" When I asked her if she was afraid someone might see it when she sat in her tiny dress, she told me, "All they can do is look, Tom. Let them. They'll all envy you, having a sexy wife who's a little more daring than the rest. Besides, women at the office dress a lot sluttier than this. Lots of big boobs in tight blouses every day that I can't compete with, so this is my chance to get noticed too. You do want them to notice your sexy wife tonight, don't you?"

It was so innocent and playful at the time, so I let her have her way. Actually, arousing thoughts of other men drooling over her tiny dress and thong began to take root and grow. So what If they did get a quick peek at her thong-covered pussy?

Now the thong lay on the table in front of us. It was so miniscule that I could hardly believe it had covered her at all - nothing more than a few fragile strings and a small, dark patch of material that now glistened with a pool of what was unmistakably spent semen. I stared at it, then slowly looked up across the table at her in silence. Alicia took a sudden deep breath, looked down at the thong and closed her eyes, wanting more than anything not to have to explain. She didn't have to worry long.

"Tell me Tom, what did you think we were doing when we disappeared together for an hour? That I was fucking your wife while you searched for her? That I had bullied her into having sex with me while her husband knew and feared the worst? Yes, I know she told you. But I'm guessing what she told you wasn't all one-sided, was it, Tom? I'm guessing she admitted she wanted it, and that must be a shock to a husband. I mean, to hear his darling wife confess that she wants to fuck a man she just met? Shocking, right?

"But I think I see a hint of perversity in you as well. You're not the first husband whose cock gets hard when I tell him I'm going to fuck his wife. Oh, I know - it feels bad at first. It's all this 'how could she do this to me? and 'why is my dick so hard?'. When it happens, you latch onto it for survival, a life raft in a boiling sea of infidelity and desire. That raft will always save you, Tom, but the boiling sea will always be there under you, tossing you, twisting your guts. But the sea calms when you learn to accept it, make friends with it, submit to the waves and where they will take you. Do you understand now, Tom?"

Alicia saw my hands shake and the color drain from my face. She pulled her chair over beside me, put a hand on my cheek, and turned me to look into her eyes. "You have to believe me, Tom. I didn't do this to you, I did it for us. He didn't hurt me, Tom. He was gentle with me at first, then, um, persistent, I guess. He just wanted sex, not me. He undressed me, and I him, and we had sex until we both came. I was worried about what you'd do when you found out, so it took me a long time. Then he asked me to wear the thong for him, to model it while he lay back on the bed and watched. It was only after I wore it for a while that I understood why - he wanted a trophy. He wanted me to show you proof that we fucked by draining the cum he left in me into it before he tossed it onto the table in front of you. It was cruel, and I had no idea it would happen. But it's over now."

"Well, not quite over, Ali," Washington interrupted with a grin.

The party wound down and the room began to empty. No more DJ; just a few tipsy couples saying their holiday goodnights and goodbyes until after the new year. We walked to the lobby with Washington. He scanned the space around us, pulled a second wad of black material from his pocket and put it in my hand. I opened it to find Alicia's half-bra. It was wrinkled and slightly damp. I could see the fragile lace had been removed, more likely ripped from the only remaining support. It must have looked like a halter under her breasts, thrusting each soft pillow of flesh outward, offered to his mouth and lips to lick and suck as he wished. Inside the torn ball of lace I found a second pool of semen, smeared and stringy as though he had wiped his cock with it.

Alicia managed a crooked smile as she watched me stare into the crumpled ball of ripped lace and cum. "Is this it?" I asked, begging desperately for the answer I hoped for. "Is this all of it? How many times did he cum in you? More than this? Tell me, Alicia. Tell me."

"I told you I couldn't say no to him," she whispered in my ear as she moved against me, her breasts again pressing against my shirt. I looked down and saw her nipples harden through her little black dress. She was rubbing them against me, reminding me her breasts were now bare under the dress.

"I'm naked under my dress, Tom. Can you tell? Do you think anyone else can?" She scanned the lobby quickly, but everyone had gone except for a few couples who had reserved rooms in the hotel for the night. I saw a few of them stare at the three of us, then look away quickly, whispering among themselves.

I told her I saw the unmistakable lines of her body under it, the ones that made me want her more than ever. She gave me a peck on my cheek, and told me, "See, you did have the sexiest wife at the party." She grinned up at me and added in a whisper, "And the one who had the most sex."

Mr. Washington walked her away from me toward the bank of elevators.

"Wait - we're leaving now, aren't we?" I asked. "It's really late."

"He wants me all night, Tom. And I can't say no. I'm going upstairs with him now. To let him take my dress off. To let him fuck me again. Come and get me tomorrow. I'll call you and tell you when. It's for us, remember? We have to give him what he wants."

I had the crumpled bra and soaked thong in my pocket. I didn't have to look at them again. I could feel the surrendered material of the tiny thong, and the black, lacy half-bra that showed just enough flesh under the little black dress. I thought about whether they might have made other men curious about what she's like in bed, and whether she'd really fuck them; men unlike Washington who just didn't quite have the balls to make it happen, but wanted her all the same. I imagined all their filthy thoughts and fantasies - if they could only steal her away from me into some dark place where they could finger and fuck her. During the night, how many had entertained fantasies that my pretty wife might be their own office slut instead of Washington's?

The elevator doors opened. Inside it was brightly lit - not a place most men would dare to seduce her. They entered together and turned to face me. The dress was now a second skin - all nipples and belly and hips meant to seduce. He moved behind her, pressing into her, drawing down the long zipper at the back of her dress. Her head dropped back onto his shoulder and her eyes fluttered closed.

Just before the elevator doors met, I glimpsed his hands on her shoulders, slowly pulling the dress over them, then down over her naked breasts. The rest was stolen from me when the doors closed and Alicia's perfect body became unashamedly his in ways I'd only be able to imagine.