Hotwife Short Stories Novels & Stories

“You kidnapped someone.” Compared to me, this man was quick to anger. Everything he wanted, he had to have. “She is my wife.” A truly fucking sentence I hated. He always said Cassandra was his wife, never thinking whether he actually deserved her. “Are you trying to pressure Cassandra into putting me in jail?” I snorted. “You have a lot of problems to deal with.” I quietly searched for every way to get Cassandra out of that house: looked into her missing-case, and documented the violence he had committed both at home and in business.

The sight of her reddened and swollen clit from behind was intoxicating, pushing me further into a haze of desire. Women—they were beautiful but dangerous. A man like me couldn’t afford to let his guard down. Yet, in moments like this, I could lose myself in the fleeting distraction they offered. With the ceaseless pain I carried buried deep in my chest, gnawing at me with relentless cruelty, I needed a release. Pounding into a whore was the only thing that worked. Some came willingly, enticed by rumors of what I could do to a woman. Others, I took by force. Those I took against their will, I savored most—their tears, their protests, and the naïve glimmer of innocence that I shattered piece

Amythest regained her balance and walked over to the window. "How come you didn't tell me about your husband?" In hushed tones, I inquired. She scowled and drew her brows together, as if she didn't understand why I was interested in his husband. She moved away from me and said, "Umm.... he works as a body bulder." I turned around to face her and showed her my biceps once more. Despite the fact that I am not a bodybuilder, I do have abs and biceps. With a thud, she walked into the washroom, rolling her eyes. She shut the door in my face, as though I was invading her personal space. I slapped my face in humiliation and attempted to inquire about her love life.

“Thanks. But I like things to be fair. You’ve seen my body, now let me see the dick that has been driving the others crazy” He chuckled as he let down his towel and his already hard 8-inch dick stood heavy and semi erect. “Wow! Even bigger than my husband’s. this will ruin our sex life but…. Its so thick and long… I would love to feel it stretch and fill me up” I said as I boldly held his dick and started stroking it while looking into his eyes with desire. My nipples were hardening and her juice dripping down her thighs from my bald pussy as I was very aroused.

My wife is quite a tall gorgeous woman and would always avoid high heeled shoes because they made her look taller than me. So imagine my surprise when I saw she was wearing what looked like 6inch high heels for this man! In fact she had not worn sexy underwear of any sort for me. Ever! Now she looked every bit the Hotwife I had wanted her to be. She then ignored me and turned toward him, gently draping her slender arms around his neck and kissing him passionately and deeply. With her back facing me, her bottom was accentuated by the rake of those fabulous high heels. As she pressed up against him, his hands gently stroked her beautiful soft bottom.

Raina snapped, "You can't marry Elara!" I raised an eyebrow, a mocking laugh slipping from my lips. "And who exactly are you to say that?" "Your wife!" Raina shot back. "In our previous life, we were happy! We had a perfect family! Everyone envied us! We were the couple people couldn't stop talking about!" She'd finally said it out loud—the secret that she had come back in time too. I burst out laughing, as if I'd just heard the biggest joke of my life.

Sydney, Australia. The city glittered beneath the evening sky. Inside a modern apartment overlooking the harbor, Stephen Wao stared at his phone. It had rung seventeen times in the last three hours. Colleagues. Relatives. Former friends. Even people he hadn't spoken to in years. The latest message flashed across the screen. IS IT TRUE YOUR WIFE IS CONNECTED TO THE NAKURU CASE? Stephen closed his eyes. Slowly. Painfully. For twenty-six years, he and Mercy had lived with secrets.

But I also couldn't explain what I'd just discovered, that my entire wedding had been built on a fundamental deception. "I need to go," I whispered. "Mara…" He called out my name, but I was already moving, already leaving the bathroom. I grabbed my robe tighter and walked out, leaving him standing there wet and confused, his dark eyes following me with an expression I couldn't read. Behind me, I heard him exhale sharply. But he didn't follow me. --- I found a quiet corner of the library on the ground floor and locked the door behind me. I pressed my thumb against the keypad, missed the 5, hit it again. The phone slipped half an inch down my palm before I caught it.

“You’re afraid of becoming like them?” Adele nodded. He fell silent briefly before finally saying— “The difference is simple.” “What difference?” “They destroy people for themselves.” Sebastian’s gaze locked onto hers. “You’re destroying them to take your life back.” The words left Adele silent for a long time. And strangely enough… she began to believe them. Several weeks passed. Vanessa’s pregnancy became more visible, and news about the future heir of the Ashcroft family appeared more frequently throughout London’s business media. Meanwhile, Adele gradually became known within New York’s social circles as a wealthy young woman named Adele Laurent.

“I bet she is.” She went upstairs to shower, hot water pounding her skin while her mind replayed every thrust, every moan, every drop of cum she’d seen leak from Chloe’s pussy. Under the spray, she touched herself again harder this time—coming fast and fierce to the memory of her husband claiming another woman in their home. When she stepped out, a towel wrapped around her, she passed the guest room where Chloe would sleep over if it got too late. The door was cracked. Chloe was inside, still in her cum-soaked shorts—fingers lazily circling her clit, eyes half-lidded.