Serving the Billionaire's Wife: A Hotwife Fantasy Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  What's A Hotwife?

  1: Summer Job

  2: Tanning

  3: A Helping Hand

  4: Job Duties

  5: Boat Trip

  6: Job Perks

  More from Lexi Archer

  Serving the Billionaire’s Wife

  Lexi Archer

  Copyright 2015 Lexi Archer

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Individuals pictured on the cover are models and used for illustrative purposes only.

  First digital edition electronically published by Lexi Archer, April 2015

  Let your fantasies come true with Lexi Archer…

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  What's A Hotwife?

  What is a hotwife? It's more of a lifestyle than a term. Put simply, it's a committed couple who has decided to let the woman stray, usually while the husband watches her straying!

  The term is "hotwife," but really it's much broader than that! Married, engaged, or just dating, the only constant is a committed couple who decides to change the traditional rules of that commitment to allow for a little extracurricular fun!

  There are two things that separates the hotwife from cheating or cuckolding: love and respect. The hotwife couple puts their relationship first. The excitement comes from watching the sexiest woman in the world get it on with another guy in the most intimate and personal live porn performance that's possible for two people committed to one another mind, body, and soul!

  My stories are for the couples who are thinking of opening up their relationships. For the men who fantasize about their wives with other men but could never put that feeling into words. For the ladies who think it would be so hot if their fella watched them with another man. For anyone who's ever had an interest in opening their relationship for a little sharing!

  These fantasies are for you. These stories are yours. I hope you enjoy them!

  1: Summer Job

  "I've looked over your qualifications David and I think that you more than meet my requirements," Mr. Sawyer said.

  I blinked. I didn't expect it to be that easy. He'd barely asked me any questions about my qualifications. Just glanced me over with a weird smile on his face.

  Whatever. The guy was a billionaire. The only reason I was getting this interview was because his wife had noticed me at the yacht club where I was expecting to work for the summer. I figured putting up with one ridiculously rich person's bullshit for the summer was better than having to deal with a whole club full of entitled assholes, and besides they both seemed like nice people.

  Mrs. Sawyer in particular seemed very nice. She seemed like the kind of girl that I'd like to get to know, if you catch my meaning. A trophy wife in every sense of the word, she couldn't be more than a few years older than me. Late twenties or early thirties. She wouldn't look out of place at a frat party and yet it looked like she'd landed herself a whale in old Mr. Sawyer here sitting across a giant wooden desk smiling at me.

  "So what's the pay?"

  "That depends on how well you perform your duties, but the starting pay will be $2000 a week," he said.

  I nearly choked on the glass of soda I was sipping. Surely I didn't hear him right. My ears had to be dealing with a case of wishful thinking or there had to be a zero missing from the amount he actually quoted me.

  "I'm sorry, what was that?"

  "Is that not enough? Fine. $3000, but you have to be available for Mrs. Sawyer for the duration of the summer and make sure that her every need is met," he said.

  Shit. He'd just gone up $1000 without thinking about it. Then again that was chump change to a guy like Sawyer. He probably made $1000 while he was wiping his ass. Damn it would be nice to make that kind of scratch!

  "I think that will work," I said.

  "Good. Your quarters will be on the first floor," he said. He had an absentminded air about him now, as though he wasn't very interested in what we were discussing now that he'd actually hired me. "Do you have a cell phone?"

  "I do," I said.

  "Good. You can either use that for the summer or we will provide you with one," he said.

  I decided to push my luck. After all, anything that was out of my price range was going to be chump change for this guy.

  "My phone is fine, but I could do with an upgrade..."

  He smiled as though he knew I was trying to play him, but at the same time what did he care? If he was willing to give me that kind of money, and that was the kind of money I could expect to make in a couple of months working at the yacht club, then what was a few extra hundred dollars to get a new phone? Nothing at all.

  "That's fine," he said. "When can you start?"

  I shrugged. "I guess tomorrow? Is that good enough?"

  He smiled, that thin secretive smile. "Tomorrow will be fine."

  I leaned forward in my chair, wondering if I should bother looking a gift horse in the mouth and at the same time realizing that I had to ask. I was seriously wondering what it was they expected of me that he was willing to drop that kind of change so quickly without even batting an eye.

  "So what exactly is it I'm supposed to do?" I asked.

  He smiled. "That's easy. Attend to my wife. Ensure that she's happy. Very happy. Give her whatever she wants. I'm sure you'll find this to not be too onerous of a task."

  "So, like, I'm supposed to make her meals or something? Do her laundry? Butler type stuff?"

  I honestly wouldn't mind doing a bit of her laundry. That would involve going through bras and panties and I figured that should be good for rubbing a few out. Not that I had a problem with the ladies, far from it, but I had a feeling that admiring was about as far as I was going to get with Mrs. Sawyer considering she was married to one of the wealthiest men in the country.

  Right now one of the wealthiest men in the country was chuckling as he shook his head. "No, nothing like that. We have people to take care of that. Mrs. Sawyer is a young woman and I'm an older man. You're just here for companionship."

  "Companionship?"

  "Exactly," he said.

  "So, like, you're paying me $3000 a week to just hang out with your hot wife?"

  Shit. I probably shouldn't have said that. Only his reaction was a little odd. It definitely wasn't what I was expecting. He leaned forward and there was a strange fire burning in his eyes. A strange fire that made me want to sit back in my chair, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. My parents were loaded enough themselves, though not quite Thomas Sawyer loaded, that I didn't really need a summer job at all so if he decided to fire me it just meant less spending money. You had to be loaded to have a house in this part of town. The job at the yacht club had mostly been an excuse for me to get paid to hang out with my friends even if dealing with the clientele could get a little exhausting at times.

  But still, that strange look in his eyes. It made me wonder exactly what the hell I was getting myself into. And at the same time I thought of Mrs. Sawyer. She really was fucking hot. Like model good looks with a girl-next-door innocence and one of those faces that said she was a genuinely nice person and not one of those bitches with a stick shoved up her ass like some of the trophy wives who came through the club. Working at the club instead of going there with my parents had give
n me a new perspective on the people who went there.

  Of course there was one stick in particular I wouldn't mind shoving up the lovely Mrs. Sawyer, but again, that was just dreaming. It's not like it was something that was anywhere close to the realm of possibility.

  I shook myself out of my reverie and back to Mr. Sawyer who was still staring at me intently. Okay, that was getting a little creepy. I had a feeling I was on the verge of getting fired, but he surprised me.

  "My hot wife," he said with another one of those chuckles to himself as though he was in on some sort of joke that he wasn't planning on sharing with me. "How very appropriate."

  "Um, okay?"

  "Like I said, I think you're perfect for this job. You'll move into your quarters tomorrow and we'll go from there," he said.

  "Really? Even after I just said that about your wife?"

  "Well it's true, isn't it? That's the reason I married her. She is a hot little wife," he said with that knowing chuckle. That was even creepier than the stare, but whatever. He could do the Charleston on his desk, that was probably popular when he was a kid, and I wouldn't care for getting $3000 a month to hang out with the delectable Mrs. Tiffany Sawyer.

  "Right, so I'll see you tomorrow then?"

  He extended his hand over the desk and I took it. I was surprised at how firm his grip was. He didn't do that asshole thing that some guys did where every handshake turned into a pissing contest, but he was firm. It was obvious that there was some strength backing him up.

  It wasn't until I got out of their mansion on the waterfront that it occurred to me that this deal might be too good to be true. Sure she was nice at the yacht club, but there was something about the way he'd been so quick to up the amount he was paying me that had me wondering if working with Mrs. Sawyer was going to be all it was cracked up to be.

  What if she was some sort of crazy psycho in private and that's why the money was so good?

  Ah well. Only one way to find out. And besides, when it came to the sliding scale of crazy to hot it was going to take a hell of a lot of crazy to tip the scales against a body like that. I whistled a happy tune as I made my way to my car.

  It was looking like it was going to be a fun summer!

  2: Tanning

  Tanning by the pool. Was there any better way to spend the summer? No more classes, no more homework, no more tests. I didn't even have to worry about dealing with those jackasses at the club this summer which was just wonderful in my book.

  Of course on the flip side being home for the summer also meant no more working out at the gym and enjoying the steady stream of eye candy walking through in impossibly tight workout clothes. No more walking down the street and being surrounded by hotties in tank tops and short shorts as far as the eye could see.

  Of course I did have the view from the pool which wasn’t half bad at Sawyer's place. I don't know why he thought it was necessary to build the pool overlooking the lake, but I wasn’t going to knock it either. I have to admit that it was a really good idea even if it was wastefully extravagant. Not that I was in a position to gripe about wasteful extravagance considering what he was paying me to keep his so-far MIA wife company.

  The pool was nice and clean, chlorinated. The lake not so much. Being able to sit back and look down over the lake with a nice view of the docks which provided a steady stream of hotties in bikinis went by throughout the day on their boats, almost made up for the lack of hotties in the gym.

  Of course Sawyer had his own home gym that was almost nicer than anything the university had. I fully intended to use it, but it wasn't the same without the eye candy. Maybe I could convince Tiffany to come down and work out with me sometime. Something told me with a body like she had, though I had yet to see it in all its glory since she tended to dress pretty conservatively when she was at the club, she spent plenty of time working out. That was probably a good chunk of the trophy wife day right there.

  I decided to sit back and enjoy thoughts of my new employer's incredible wife for a moment. After all, wouldn't perving on her be considered work-related?

  Ah Tiffany. Beautiful Tiffany whose smile could light up a room. Sexy Tiffany who had a body that would put even the hottest of those college girls to shame despite being anywhere from five to ten years older than any of them. It was hard to pin an actual age on her. I sat on the deck by the pool looking out over the lake and the boats driving by trying my best to ignore the naughtier thoughts running through my head since I'm sure my employer wouldn't appreciate that no matter how fucking weird he'd been.

  "Having fun up there?"

  I jumped and nearly fell back into the pool. My beer did go flying and I bit back a curse as it spilled all over the front of my swim trunks. Then I bit back another curse as realized I knew that voice. That voice meant I'd just been caught sneaking a bear by the lady who was my main reason for employment this summer. Damn it. How did she manage to simultaneously sneak up on and scare the crap out of me like that?

  I wanted to be mad, but holy shit.

  Tiffany looked up at me from the deck stairs in all her glory.

  "Uh, um," I stammered.

  Smooth.

  Blue eyes flashed above a pair of designer sunglasses. God it was like looking into the middle of a field of pure ice. Those eyes, that smile, that cute little nose that turned up at the end, it was enough to...

  Crap. I frantically crossed my legs to cover up the little potentially embarrassing situation that was rapidly rising. Well, it wasn't little. You know what I mean.

  "Uh, I mean, I guess it's okay," I said.

  She smiled and it was like a thousand watt jolt of electricity coursed through my body. I couldn't help myself. I had my sunglasses, they were supposed to reflect anything, I risked a quick glance down and more blood pumped down to my cock. This was going to be a long summer if this is the way I acted every time I talked to my reason for employment!

  Tiffany was covered in so many accessories that it was hard to tell what she had on underneath, though I knew her amazing body was lurking just under the surface of those clothes. A bag of some sort, a towel wrapped around her waist, a pink sash thrown over her shoulders. I was disappointed she wasn't showing off more in a skimpy bikini or something. I'd hoped, I'd prayed, but it seems that whatever higher power I'd implored wasn't listening or wasn't interested today. Damn.

  “Enjoying the view?” she asked.

  I was so lost in my own world that what she said barely registered. Those legs were amazing. Just slightly tanned since we were still at the beginning of the summer, they ran up to the kind of ass that would make you gladly walk a thousand miles barefoot across hot coals as long as you were walking behind her and got to see that ass moving back and forth the entire time. That perfect ass ran up to a slim waist and up to a pair of tits that were just slightly larger than what seemed natural for her frame. Without a hint of sag and with two points that pressed out front from her nipples it was enough to make you want to get on your knees and beg to lick them. Now if only she wouldn't cover them up like she was.

  The view. Enjoying the view. I was looking at her. She was the view. Only she couldn’t possibly see me staring at her with these sunglasses. She must be talking about the boats out there. A huge speedboat with a bunch of college girls in bikinis sped past and some of them yelled up to us.

  I waved. It didn’t hurt to be polite. I never knew when I might run into one of them around the lake, after all. Tiffany frowned but I decided to ignore it. I had the feeling she was trying to get a reaction out of me, and in my experience a girl trying to get a reaction out of me wasn't a girl who was getting a reaction no matter how hot she was or how rich her husband was.

  “Yeah, I suppose the view’s all right,” I said.

  “Only all right?” she said with a pout.

  Crap. Did she think I was looking at her? Did I just insult her? I could feel the conversation slipping out of my control.

  "You should close your mouth sometime," she sa
id. "Standing there looking like a gasping fish isn't really a good look for you."

  I snapped my mouth shut. Damn. How was it this gorgeous trophy wife was able to just waltz up and make me feel like a complete idiot? I hadn't been this hopeless since back before I started swimming and now I'm sitting here all buff and perfectly confident with the ladies except my gorgeous sort-of employer had me stammering like I'm at a dance and some ancient All 4 One song just started playing and I was trying and failing to work up the courage to ask Tiffany Arnold to slow dance with me.

  “So is this the plan for the day? Work on your tan and check out the scenery?”

  “Nothing wrong with enjoying the view,” I said. "Unless you decide to do something else. I understand I'm at your disposal."

  She smiled a thin knowing smile at that and came the rest of the way up the stairs and pulled her sunglasses down entirely as she stepped onto the concrete surrounding the pool. She looked me up and down, her eyes definitely lingering on my beer covered cock for a little longer than was strictly allowable considering she was a married woman, and then she was moving to a deck chair that looked out over the lake.

  I blinked. Was I seeing things or did she just check me out? My cock twitched at the thought.

  "You’re right. Nothing wrong with enjoying the view, but try not to get caught."

  She smiled and flipped her sunglasses back up.

  I turned to look back out over the lake, to ignore her, but the unmistakable sound of clothes whispering against skin turned my attention away. My mouth dropped open as Tiffany smiled a knowing smile, but I didn’t care.

  Those higher powers who weren't listening earlier? Apparently they chose this moment to start paying attention to my entreaties to the universe and damn was it worth it.

  Tiffany had ditched the accessories revealing the delightful outfit below. A little blue sundress that clung to her body in every way and made my cock stir. Made of some clingy material, the dress barely went down below her ass and dipped down to reveal a generous amount of cleavage. She lowered her sunglasses again. For just a moment those icy blue eyes made contact with mine and the barest hint of a smile passed across her face.