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Hotwife | Hot Past | Cheating

The House Guest — Pt 4

Trent and Evie had it all — a great marriage, professional success, a perfect life. But sometimes it only takes a little change to knock that train off the tracks.

You can find previous chapters **here**

My brain was mush. I had stopped thinking clearly as soon as I saw those dimly-lit pictures of Evie’s bright red lips wrapped around a big black cock while another one ploughed into her from behind. Doing anything with Sadie was clearly a very bad, no good, terrible idea. I barely noticed when Sadie slid my shorts down, although I registered it enough that I raised my hips to help.

Her tongue on my balls did not escape notice, however, nor her slow stroking of my cock. I shook my head and looked down to see her kneeling between my legs, her t-shirt pulled up over her big breasts, and my cock now disappearing into her pouty mouth. Fuck, what was I doing?

“Sadie, stop! We can’t!”

“But Evie can? That seems hardly fair, Trent. Don’t you deserve to even the playing field?”

That was a dumb argument, but when a beautiful woman has your dick in her hand, thinking gets really muddled. I sighed and leaned back. Sadie gave a little grin and then swallowed me down. Lord, what a mouth! Evie knew every inch of me, but Sadie was exploring, and man, was that fun!

I got close way too quickly and pulled back a little, but she moved right with me. She pulled me out long enough to say, “Let me do this for you,” before taking me back in. Okay then. I relaxed and stopped thinking and just felt for the first time in weeks. And soon I was flooding Sadie’s mouth, which seemed to suit her just fine.

She pulled back and sat back on her heels, licking her lips and looking pleased with herself. “You taste good, baby. Don’t you want to find out how I taste?” More than any fucking thing in the world.

She stood up and pulled her t-shirt up over her head, stopping to pose for me for a moment, naked except for those baggy jeans barely held up by the curve of her ass. She cupped her breasts and looked down at them before looking back at me. “They’re quite a bit bigger than they were in those pictures. Do you like them?”

I could only croak a “fuck yes” in response. She unzipped her jeans and kicked them off, leaving her completely naked. “Lie down, baby.” I did as I was told. I don’t think I was capable of doing otherwise.

Sadie straddled my chest, rubbing her soaked pussy against my skin. “Tell me you want me, Trent. Tell me you need me.”

“Fuck, Sadie. Yes! Fuck yes, I want you!”

“But do you need me, baby? Do you have to have me? Will you die without me?”

My answer this time was non-verbal, but no less emphatic. I grabbed two handfuls of toned ass and pulled her forward until she was leaning on the arm of the sofa with her sex in my face. Those gymnastics-toned thighs squeezed around my ears, and as I drove my tongue inside her, I decided that if she squeezed so hard I stopped breathing, it would be a hell of a way to go.

I did manage to continue pumping air into my lungs, so the lightheadedness was clearly due to Sadie’s sex in my face. She smelled like soap and sin, and I wanted to make her feel as good as she had done for me.

“Fuck, Trent. So fucking good. Now make me cum, baby. Suck on my little clit and keep pushing that finger inside me.” I followed her instructions, and her “good boy” completed the resurrection of my cock. Who knew I had a praise kink?

Her thighs quivered around my head as she climaxed, cumming hard against my tongue and finger. I looked up past her flat stomach and those perfect boobs to see her face in ecstasy — she was always gorgeous, but watching her cum like that was magical.

“Come on, baby — I want that cock inside of me!” It’s a good thing she was doing the thinking for both of us, because I was starting to feel guilty. Thankfully, the sight of Sadie’s wet pussy as she slid down my torso made me just stop thinking at all.

She straddled my waist, rubbing her sex up and down along my erection, her lips split around my shaft. At the end of each stroke, we both let out a little moan. The anticipation was delicious, but I was ready to go. She must have been as well, as she raised and held me in place for a moment before lowering herself onto me.

I’m pretty sure that every guy has fantasized about having sex with a gymnast. No fantasy could live up to the reality of being inside Sadie. I’m usually in control of myself during sex, but she quickly reduced me to a rock-hard cock attached to a mindless beast. Brain gone, nothing left but rutting and trying to get more and more of my cock inside her.

I held onto her hips while I thrust up into her as she slammed herself down onto me. She looked down at me with a fierce grin, like she was both pleased and impressed. “That’s it, Trent! Give it to me! Give me everything!” I was helpless to do anything else.

I think Sadie came first, but it was a near thing. She collapsed onto my chest, her arms around my neck, kissing me as I came inside her, doing exactly as she demanded. I gave her everything I had, and she took it all. Then it all came crashing down.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck!!”

Bloody hell. The Ice Queen cometh.

Sadie moved off of me, my messy cock popping out and flopping against my thigh, looking rather limp and pathetic now as I quickly deflated. Sadie sat across my thighs, looking back and forth between Evie and me like she was waiting for the show.

“I guess you were right, Sadie. You told me he would fuck around on me if he had the chance.” She turned her glare to me. “I hope it was good for you, you bastard. Because you’re not getting any more of this!”

I lay there speechless, the knowledge that I’d been set up slowly seeping in. Then came the anger. How the fuck dare she be mad at me for doing exactly what she had already done?

“How is that any different from what you and Sadie did last weekend? And who knows how many times since?”

That actually rocked my wife back a little, but she recovered quickly. “It’s not the same, asshole. She hasn’t got a dick.”

Sadie piped up next to me, oddly enjoying this. “Actually, the top drawer of my nightstand — “

“Shut up, bitch!” Evie was not having any of it. But neither was I.

“You’re a lawyer, Evie. I think you know that argument is pretty weak.”

“Oh, fuck you, Trent. If same sex counts, then go fuck another guy for all I care. But you owe me one. I‘m going to go fuck someone else, and then we’re done with this. No more fucking around, especially with Sadie Slut. Got it?”

“I’m not agreeing to that!”

“Well, tough. It’s happening. Tonight. Sadie, go get dressed — we’re going out.”

I pulled my clothes back on and followed her back to the bedroom, but she locked the door, and I wasn’t quite angry enough to force it open. I turned back down the hall and saw that Sadie’s door was slightly open. She was looking through the closet, still naked, my cum glistening between her thighs. Somehow, that made me feel a little better about things.

“Sadie. Uh… watch out for her? Keep her safe?” She turned and stepped over to me, taking my hands in hers.

“I promise, Trent. I’ve been her wing-woman forever. You just take care of yourself.” I wasn’t sure if she meant that physically or emotionally, but I didn’t dwell on it. She reached up and kissed me briefly on the mouth. “Thanks for the great fuck!” I swatted her ass as she turned back to her closet.

I grabbed another beer and sat back down on the sofa, fiddling with my phone, waiting for… I don’t know what I was waiting for. I could hear giggles coming from down the hall and a “Fuck, that’s hot!” coming from one of them. I wasn’t sure which.

I really shouldn’t have stuck around to see what they were wearing. I should have gone out to a sports bar, maybe. Had a few beers, maybe watched the Cubs, eaten some wings — that would have made sense. But for some reason, I decided to torture myself.

Sadie came out first, a little surprised that I was still there. She was wearing a lemon-yellow halter dress that barely covered her ass, and short, high-heeled Western boots that made her calves look like you could pound a nail with them. I wanted to bend her over the breakfast bar and fuck the hell out of her. Again.

Then Evie stepped out, and I thought my heart was going to just stop. I looked down at first, at her black ankle strap sandals with the four-inch heels (“Jimmy Choo”, she told me when she bought them — “fuck me” when she wore them). My eyes made their way up, and they travelled a very long time before finding anything other than perfectly curved pale legs.

I was almost up to her sex when I hit a peach-coloured taffeta skirt, and I recognised the Alexander McQueen sleeveless dress that she’d worn for her last birthday. It had a front zip that ran the length of the dress, and I remembered full well how easy it had been to take it off of her.

I may have been drooling, but she gave me a cold look as she swept by. “Don’t wait up.”

“Babe. You don’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, I think I do.” Then they were gone, Sadie giving me one of her inscrutable looks over her shoulder as the door closed behind them.

It was way too early in the evening for them to be trolling for guys. I figured they would have dinner somewhere, and maybe Evie would come to her senses before she got drunk enough to do something stupid. But since I was home, I thought I might as well get as drunk as I wanted to. And I fucking wanted to — anything to distract me from what I imagined was going to happen.

I was becoming a mess by 11 pm, after slowly but steadily sipping bourbon for hours. I had made myself eat some crackers, but they tasted like sawdust. I just sat idly scrolling through my phone until I was sure I’d read (or at least skimmed) everything on the Internet. Everything. Anything to keep from actually thinking.

The strumming guitar of Sixpence None The Richer’s “Kiss Me” woke me from a nap I hadn’t intended to take. It took a minute to clear the cobwebs and remember how phones work. It was her ringtone, and I was all thumbs. I finally got the phone unlocked and answered her video call.

She had obviously been drinking all evening as well, as I recognized her careful attempt to look sober. That endeared me when it was the two of us, like we were high school kids trying to pull something over on her parents. But the strange hotel room behind her filled me with… fuck, I wasn’t sure. Dread? Anticipation? Desire?

She put her finger to her mouth. “Shhhhhhh. Keith’s in the bathroom. I’m going to leave my phone on so you can watch him fuck me. And maybe Sadie, if she gets her ass back from the liquor store.” She wagged her finger at the phone camera. “You watch! Then I’m going to come home, and you can reclaim me. And then we’ll be even. Even-Steven. <giggle> Who’s Steven? Oh, shhhhh! He’s coming! Well, soon he will be!”

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Anton J Pierce is an award-winning erotica author. His first short story anthology — Filthy Bedtime Stories For Adults — was recently published on Amazon, where you can also find his novels. Check them out! You can find him on Bluesky at @antonjpierce.bsky.social and at insideajp.blogspot.com.