A "Hotwife" is Born
One of our SDC members submitted the following story to our “Hottest Hotwife Experience!” Erotic Writing Contest. Sign up today to submit your own amateur erotica.
My beautiful wife is, at first sight, just that — with a hint of something you can’t quite put your finger on but wish you could. I often catch a male eye stripping her as she swishes across a venue in her favourite 4- or 5-inch Jimmy Choos. Her style is sophisticated yet with an air of pure eroticism, perfectly perfumed and made-up. I imagine many men would be jealous, but for me, it’s a badge of honour and a dammed erotic one at that, akin to a pain-pleasure thing without the pain.
Several years ago, over ‘dinner out in,’ the conversation turned to ‘naughtiness’ involving an extra man — a threesome. Prospective candidates were discussed over a bottle or two of good wine. Size mattered, she told me. “no Tequila shots here; it has to touch the sides.” Anyway, at about this time, I discovered SDC, searching the various posts with an eye to a ‘third.’ Eventually, an obvious ‘like’ was found. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained, let’s do it,” she said, with a twinkle in her deep blues.
They Find a Gentleman
Post a long lunch, she liked him. He was a gentleman — no smutty innuendos, no uninvited touchy-feely, just amusing, courteous and, attractive, rising when Madam returned from a powder. She does love a gentleman. Alone after our lunch, she was keen to invite him for a more ‘private’ meeting. We had access to a beautiful villa within a hotel, surrounding a private pool — ideal for a first-class dalliance. A date was set a week or two later.
Madam picked out a beautiful chocolate silk wrap-over dress with nothing underneath, save a wispy lace suspender, seamed tan nylons, and vertiginous Jimmy Choos, presenting her wonderfully-taught derriere under pert 32 double Ds. Sexy doesn’t quite cover it — she looked erotic. Hair down and tousled, garden trimmed to a tiny triangle, legs waxed like silk... What troubles our ladies take to look magnificent! Her dress falling easily aside, as wrap-overs do, not forgetting to treat the doorman, as she alighted our low-slung car into a buggy and off to the villa.
Breaking Ice at the Villa
Our guest arrived, and Madam exuded confidence that belied her nervousness. Our guest, sitting next to her on a sofa, complementing her dress as it exposed a nylon clad leg, just enough to show a hint of stocking top. She took me by surprise, taking his hand and placing it on her thigh, “do you like my stockings”? ... Ice. Broken. They squared up to each other and embraced in a passionate kiss, his hands inching up her thigh. I took a deep breath — it was the first time I’d seen anyone touch my wife like that. She loves kissing, indulging in our guest’s full lips, and he responded in kind with the obvious outline of a formidable hard-on ticking that box. It made me shy to stare, apprehensive, conflicted yet aroused, all at the same time, knowing what it would lead to.
The New Hotwife and her Bull
Madam was in full flow. Our guest took a moment to both enjoy a sip of cold Crystal, simultaneously relishing the ever-unfolding view of gossamer nylon and bare faultless tanned thigh above, leading his eye upwards to her exquisitely weighted, braless, and pert 32 DDs peeking from her loosening dress, offering a hint of tantalising nipple, begging to be kissed and caressed. As he departed the next afternoon, her final words were, “what have you done?” cocking an eyebrow in mischief. Unbeknown to either of us, her development towards being a ‘Hotwife’ had begun.
At a subsequent ‘meeting,’ of which there were several, having been dispatched to run an errand that took me away for an hour or so, I returned to her screams, echoing down the corridor as the elevator door opened. I entered the apartment to find her bent across a sofa arm being, pardon the vernacular, royally fucked from behind, still in seamed stockings and customary vertiginous stilettos, but little else. Neither broke stride upon my arrival, save a knowing lustful glance from Madam. My excitement at the frisson of the scene was palpable and, as I found out later, equally so for her. She loves to be watched.
Enjoying DC to the Fullest
Our guest sadly relocated on business to Washington, DC. Fortuitously, I needed to visit a southern US industrial town shortly afterwards — an ideal opportunity for Madam to travel solo to DC, where we would both meet then take six weeks vacation driving across the States when my work was done. As was customary, we flew in Business Class. Madam boarded her 747 seated upstairs, as always immaculately dressed, somewhat against the modern trend for sweatsuits. She teased me with her stockings, heels, and stylish DVF dress that morning — a perfect ensemble for what, I alone knew, lay ahead. My last words to her on WhatsApp were, “enjoy all that DC has to offer, see you in a couple of days.” She replied with a photograph showing a stocking top, reclined in her ‘pod’ holding a Champagne flute, suitably charged, and commented, “will do my best” appended with the usual emojis.
My own flight across the Atlantic was filled with both excitement and apprehension. Little did she know or suspect, a certain ‘treat’ had been arranged. She was unaware of the devious yet delicious plot hatched for her first truly solo event, her ‘enjoying’ DC to the full,” awaiting my arrival and the start of our vacation.
Touching down on time, she expected to see a hotel chauffeur to meet and greet, and then she did a damsel in distress impression when an obvious candidate didn’t appear. Our ‘friend,’ as arranged, saw her at a distance, immaculately dressed, stylish, and wow, looking lost, maneuvered to stand in front of her and said, “Hey, darling.” After second glances, the penny dropped. “Hello,” she said, still a little bemused until bathed in the realisation that her holiday was about to start with a bang… having been told — innocently, so she thought — to “enjoy all that DC has to offer.”
Off they went to a limo, kisses and hugs exchanged, chatting away, the door opened by the chauffeur, and luggage loaded and off to the hotel. The limo was typically stretched with tinted windows and a divide betwixt driver and cabin, keeping prying eyes at bay. Chilled Champagne was poured, our ‘friend’ spilling a drop or two on Madam’s leg as the limo rode the uneven freeway from Dulles. “Lick it off,” she demanded of our ‘friend.’ He dutifully assumed the position and did just that, taking in the view — no knickers, as always. After much laughter, they arrived at an old establishment in plain sight of the White House, and a uniformed doorman opened the Limo door; “help with your luggage, Ma’am?” Feeling the effects of a confidence-boosting Champagne or two, she replied, “I have staff, thanks,” beckoning to our ‘friend’ with a giggle and a knowing wink. He played his part trotting after her clicking Choos and swaying hips, seams still straight. Once in the suite, navigating through the lounge, it was a different story.
Madam was ushered onto an oversized king bed, dressed in Egyptian cotton. Her DVF dress exposed her nylons, her legs in the air. That DVF is still in the wardrobe, full of memories and much else besides, becoming known as the ‘cum-soaked dress’... I arrived in DC after an epic drive to find a very happy lady. A hotwife was born. Where and what happened next, I leave to your imagination… and mine?
This story was submitted by one of our members to the My Hottest Hotwife Experience! Erotic Writing Contest. SDC announced the winner of this contest on September 18th, 2020. Our editor made minor adjustments to this story for length and clarity.
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