Hotwife Encounters Novels & Stories

I wanted to be like the women I found in the stories in the back. Women that had unforgettable sex, a lot more interesting than my own awkward and unsatisfying sex life at the time. The story that really stood out centered around a woman who went camping with her husband. They couple made a few friends and one thing led to another and five men fucked her and filled her with cum. The next encounter came in the form of p**n video one of my immature guy friends put on at a party. From the woman’s bleached blonde hair to her giant fake tits, everything about it fell into the category of fake.

On that fateful cocktail party night, my husband’s friend’s wife turned me into a dripping, pussy-hungry slut… and I loved every filthy second of it. My name is Emily Thompson. I’m a happily married, 33-year-old woman who had always considered herself completely straight. That all changed forever one warm evening when my husband Ryan and I got ready for a cocktail party at his old college buddy Marcus’s house. It was the first time I would meet Marcus and his wife Lena.

Hold still! [What's going on? This all sounds like a movie script! A friend helping the wife's husband to hide his affair and even becoming friends with the mistress? Unbelievable!] [I thought some internet celebrities got married because of how many people are watching the livestream. It turns out that I'm simply being ignorant. This is my first time seeing anything like this!] [The wife is so impressive for smashing the wine bottle on that scumbag's face.] [Hey, don't you guys think that the scumbag looks familiar?]

This time, before she could open the door to deposit the second box, she paused mid-stride. I don't know what specific variable made her look up. A shift in the wind, visual instinct, or pure fate. But suddenly, her eyes cut across the asphalt street and locked directly onto mine through my windshield. Everything around us stopped dead. The passing traffic, the afternoon breeze, the rhythmic hum of distant lawn equipment—all of it vanished until there were only two people left in Riverside Heights. The wife, and the woman who had spent a year trying to claim her inheritance.

Within seconds, Noah was restrained, his protests cut short as we pushed past him into the house. The scent hit first, perfume, thick and eww how disgusting, the smell of sex. Don't tell me this asshole was actually fucking another woman while his wife was somewhere in the house dying? " Noah, who is—" I turned my eyes ahrply to her and shut my eyes for a split second. Such filth to behold. Delilah. Draped across the sofa in red lace, like she’d been waiting for an audience. Her eyes widened the second she saw me.

And she felt like dying because the shame of feeling so good to her own father's f*cking upped the sexual satisfaction. 'For three whole years, my body had developed so much. How many men have touched me already? Probably more than two hundred? No, aside from my father, his workmates, my boyfriend, my boyfriend's gang and these real gangsters, there are also the bastard teachers and random drunkards, beggars and other lowlives I encounter every night I go out for experiences. Maybe already three hundred...?' Christine did not go home after her meeting with Eithan but instead invited herself in this gang's headquarter hidden in a very messy squatter's area.

"They’ve been running headlines for six hours calling you a predatory subcontractor and me a fraudulent, unfaithful wife." "Let them print whatever trash they want, Violetta," Caleb says, turning his head to lock his steady hazel eyes onto mine. He reaches across the console, his large hand completely covering my shaking fingers, squeezing them. "We walk up those steps together. We don't hide our faces, and we don't run. I’m right behind you." The truck doors click open simultaneously. The moment my heels hit the wet pavement, a small swarm of freelance reporters and independent bloggers push past the security barricades, thrusting recording devices and microphones toward my face.

The next day was my birthday, and my parents threw a large party. Wilson Whitmore arrived with his daughters and his sister, Elara Whitmore. Raina, however, never showed. Only when the party was winding down and guests were preparing to leave did Raina appear unhurriedly with Kieran at her side. Raina wore a high-neck gown, and Kieran had a few fresh scratches across his neck. The way they stood together was far too close for comfort. I felt nothing. I lifted my glass and drank as if none of it concerned me.

Cindy instinctively raised her hand to slap back, but Wendy caught it and pushed her away, delivering another slap. "Hah! I'll hit you whenever I want. Do I need a special occasion for that, you immoral woman?" Wendy, hands on her hips, shouted, "Everyone, put your meals on hold. Come and witness this home-wrecker, audacious enough to flaunt her affair and taunt the wife with videos! See what she looks like and be warned—she might target your husband next!" It was around eleven in the morning, and the café was a popular spot. Many people came for brunch or coffee, including nearby office workers.

Where have you been? [Just living a few days of normal life,] Nicole calmly replied. [You have been on the wanted list online. I can’t believe that you can still enjoy a normal life.] Specter showed her a few screenshots. While she was away for the past few days, someone had pinned an order at the top, and she was the target. [Isn’t that common?] Nicole smirked, not taking it seriously. In the dark web called The Hunters, whether it was The Hunters Union or a lone Hunter, it was common to offend someone because of taking on certain jobs. Most of the jobs she had accepted this year were big cases, and it was normal that she was now wanted.