My Wife's FreeUse Weekend: Taking Them All

After I remarry my wife, Vivian Crowell, I decide to rent her out to other men. When her male best friend, Elliot Everhart, summons her away from me, I no longer kick up a fuss about it. Instead, I charge Vivian by the hour. The rent is 10 thousand dollars per hour during the day, whereas it'll be 20 thousand dollars per hour at night. If it's a holiday, all prices will be tripled. After running my new business for three months, I now have an additional 20 million dollars in my account. Although Vivian has promised to pick out my suit for the banquet with me, Elliot calls her and complains about how he's nicked his finger with a knife when he was cutting vegetables. I don't even bother raising my head as I hand my bank account number over to Vivian. One midnight, I suddenly suffer from a fever. When Vivian is driving me to the hospital, Elliot calls her and claims that he can't sleep due to discomfort caused by his intoxication. I merely pull out my umbrella fluently and tell Vivian to drop me off at the junction ahead. Upon noticing her hesitation, I just smile at her. "Don't forget to transfer the payment to me." On the day our son, Victor Carrington, is going for his regular follow-up appointment, Elliot calls Vivian once again. "Eleanor wants to go to the amusement park. It'll only be fun when we have a woman to accompany us there." After Vivian ends the call, she turns around and is about to crouch down to explain everything to Victor when she sees him mimicking my actions by sticking out his hand at her. "It's fine, Mommy. You can just pay us. But today's rate is the triple kind."

Exotic Hotwife collection Some wives are meant to be shared, especially those married to tiny-dicked men, for there fame and wealth. They smile sweetly at dinner parties, hold their husband’s arm in public, and play the role of the perfect, loyal spouse. But deep down, they burn and crave for thick, dominant cocks, they fantasize about being used like filthy whores in front of strangers moaning, squirting, and begging while their husbands watch in humiliated silence. This is Erotic Hotwife Erotica a raw, explicit collection of stories about once-respectable wives who surrender completely to their slutty urges. In these pages, elegant, sophisticated women transform into public cumsluts. They get fucked in offices, lecture halls, luxury hotels, beaches, and high-society events. They spread their legs and take load after load while their husbands are forced to watch, stroke their pathetic cocks, and clean up the mess. The wives don’t just cheat. They perform. They beg. They squirt. They get ruined for everyone to see.

Ayla, my wife had just returned home from a business trip when I received a call from the hotel she had booked there. The hotel receptionist sounded a little embarrassed as she explained, “Hello, is this Ms. Jewell’s husband? I’m calling from the front desk. I see that we forgot to bill you for some incidentals. It looks like your room used all eighteen condoms from the amenity kit. I apologize for the oversight. The total comes to 35 dollars. Can I get a card number over the phone to close that out for you?” My mind went completely blank. Hadn’t my wife gone on that business trip on her own? Why would she have used condoms? Suppressing my inner turmoil, I gave Ayla a call. “Honey, the hotel just called. They said there was a little issue with your room. They asked me if you had someone staying over with you?” She sounded clearly exhausted as she replied with a weak voice, “Oh, right. A lady couldn’t find a hotel room, so she crashed with me for the night.” I chuckled and asked her to rest. After hanging up, I drove directly to the hotel. “35 dollars, right? I’ll pay it in person.”

I secretly ordered a delivery of a thousand roses for my wife's birthday, hoping to surprise her. After the delivery was completed, I got a message from the delivery guy. [By the way, I tossed the trash by your door on my way out. Didn't expect you to be so kinky. Good for you, man!] He even sent me a photo. In the picture was an open trash bag stuffed with shredded pantyhose. My mind went completely blank. I was overseas on a business trip. My wife was the only one at home.

On our seventh anniversary, an event planner called, already hyping up my wife, Talia. "Ms. Sweeney, we're putting a family photo of you four in the main hall. And some shots of your little princess. That okay? Also, can you confirm your son carrying his sister onstage?" I froze. There were only two people in our house—Talia and me. A family of four? Two kids? I called Talia, the hotel's general manager. She brushed it off. "Probably a client. Wrong number on a contract. I hand out cards all day." I stared at the balloons and flowers I'd set up in the private room—then swiped them all to the floor. Gone. I turned and called my sister, the Director of the Business Compliance Bureau. "Naomi, Talia's cheating. She's got two kids. Get me the best divorce lawyer. I want her out—and out of my hotel."

"Dad, Mom and Patrick are actually in love. You've been standing in their way for over 20 years. Don't you feel any shame? You've got nothing left to give us anyway. He's the only one who can give us a better life. "And just getting divorced isn't enough either. Patrick needs to know you've moved on, so you need to remarry. "Dad, do this for me and Connor. Once Patrick's happy, he'll actually be good to us." After I finish paying for my children's weddings and clear the mortgage, my wife brings her wealthy lover home. The whole family gangs up on me, demanding I divorce and remarry someone else. With no way out, I find someone and rush into a marriage. I figure I'll just live out a quiet, simple life with my new wife, but she turns out to be the CEO of a publicly traded company. When my kids find out who she really is, the regret nearly destroys them.