The Crush: A Hotwife Novel Read online

  My head was on fire. My body was on fire. The usual orgasmic tingle erupting from my cock was spreading across my entire body as though my entire self, my very soul, was being emptied into my wife as I indulged in this forbidden fantasy.

  And then, finally, I was spent. It was all I could do not to collapse on top of Abby. She was looking up at me, biting her lip, and had a huge grin on her face.

  “So what brought that on?”

  “Can’t I just like fucking my wife?”

  Abby shook her head as though she didn’t believe me, but she didn’t press the matter. Which was probably for the best. The last thing I needed right now was to explain that I’d been fantasizing that I was her old boyfriend fucking her. Chances are she probably wouldn’t understand. Hell, I was the one who’d had this fantasy thrust upon me and I didn’t understand it.

  I rolled off of Abby, my cock pulling out of her. God that had been intense. That was probably the single most intense orgasm I’d had since our wedding night. Not that our lovemaking was boring. Far from it. But I suppose that even the best steak in the world would get a little routine if you had it all the time. You catch my drift.

  I thought about the fantasy. I thought about my wife seeing David for the first time in years. I opened my mouth and said something stupid without really thinking about it.

  “Maybe you should think about going to that reunion,” I said.

  Wait. What? Where did that come from? Why was I encouraging her to go to her reunion when it sounded like she didn’t even want to go? Why was I encouraging her to go to her reunion when it meant going back to that town? When it meant a pretty damn good chance of running into him?

  “What?”

  Abby leaned up on an elbow and I turned to stare. My eyes traveled down the delicious curves of her body. Her amazing breasts that were still pressing out towards me. Her hair falling over her shoulders. Her toned flat stomach that was filled with my cum even as we spoke. My eyes ran down between her legs where I thought I could make out a trickle of my juice making its way out from between her legs. I briefly imagined that was his juice trickling out from between her legs and let out an involuntary shudder.

  “What do you mean?”

  I moved up onto my elbow and shrugged as best I could. “I don’t know. You only have one ten year reunion. You might regret not going someday.”

  Abby shook her head as she looked at me. “You’re weird.”

  I thought back to the fantasies running through my head as we made love. No, we hadn’t just made love. That had been pure, unadulterated, animal fucking. That had been me jumping on my wife and taking her completely. That was raw passion. Something I hadn’t felt with her in a while, despite how turned on I still got every time I saw her.

  “I’m just saying think about it,” I said.

  Abby looked me up and down with a look she got on her face when she knew I was up to something. Or at the very least a look that crossed her face when she thought I was up to something. Which was most of the time. I saw that look a lot.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said.

  I flopped back against my pillow and considered pulling my boxers back on. Something told me sexy times were over for the evening, and I could still get in some reading before it was time for bed. I glanced over to my gorgeous wife one last time. Took in the gentle curve of her body. The contours of her amazing skin. She wasn’t making any move to put any clothes on. Now that was new.

  I shrugged. If she was sleeping naked then I was too. It might be fun. Then Abby rolled on top of me with a grin and it was clear there wasn’t any sleeping in the cards just yet.

  3: Old Memories

  “You’re cleaning out the attic?”

  Abby’s voice was incredulous. Not that I could blame her. It’s not like cleaning was exactly my thing, even when I was trying to score brownie points.

  “I figured it would be good to get some clutter out of there,” I said.

  Abby smiled a knowing smile as she leaned back against the kitchen counter. God did she look amazing in her shorts and tank top. Every bit as hot as the day we met. And why shouldn’t she? My wife spent a hell of a lot of time in the gym making sure she looked just as good as she always had!

  “I know what you’re doing.”

  I raised my eyebrows. I hoped to hell she didn’t know what I was doing. Then again, when she usually thought she’d figured me out she was always pretty off the mark. I just let her think she was good at reading me. It made for a happier marriage.

  “Oh? What am I up to?”

  If my wife had any inkling as to what I was up to she’d probably be royally pissed off. If she had any idea that I wanted to use the occasion of her trip to the mall to go up to the attic and rummage through her old photo albums and yearbooks she’d probably be furious. If she realized why I wanted to look at those old photo albums and yearbooks she’d go from furious to potentially marriage-ending levels of anger.

  No, better to just avoid the whole subject. Better to let her think whatever she was about to tell me.

  “You just don’t want to go shopping.”

  My face broke into a wide grin that was partially amusement and partially relief. No, she really had no idea why I was planning on going up into the attic.

  “You’ve got me babe.”

  Abby rolled her eyes as she grabbed her keys and purse off the kitchen counter. “Fine, you can stay home. But I expect at least one bag of trash to be full by the time I get back here mister!”

  “Of course babe!” I held up my hands and pulled my best innocent look. “You’re talking like you don’t think I’m actually going to be cleaning up there!”

  I held an arm out to stop her as she turned towards the garage. There was one more thing I needed to talk to her about. That I desperately needed to go over with her. My cock was rock hard in my pants even as I felt blood pumping through the rest of my body, felt heat behind my face. I was so turned on and so goddamned nervous at the same time.

  I didn’t know how she was going to take this next bit.

  “Something on your mind?” she asked.

  “You might say that.”

  “Okay, spill.”

  I opened my mouth and the words almost came out. I stopped. I wasn’t sure how to say this. I was terrified of how she was going to react.

  “Honey? Is something wrong?”

  I shook my head. “No. I was just thinking…”

  “What were you thinking? And why does it seem like I’m always in for some trouble when you start thinking?”

  I grinned and shrugged, held out my hands in my most innocent gesture. “What can I say? I have great ideas!”

  “Okay honey,” she said. “Spill already. What’s going on?”

  “Well I was thinking about your reunion. How you’re going out to get clothes for the big day and all that.”

  I opened my mouth and it worked for a moment, but words failed me. I took a deep breath and forced myself to spit the next part out. The words came spilling out of my mouth rapid fire. “I was thinking as long as you’re getting clothes for the reunion you might as well get some decently sexy outfits.”

  There. I said it. I’d more or less admitted to my wife that I wanted her to slut it up just a little bit at her reunion. I braced for the slap. I braced for the yelling. I wasn’t sure how she’d react. I was terrified of how she might react, that she might somehow deduce my strange new fantasy from this request.

  She smiled and a raised eyebrow. Now that was unexpected. Don’t get me wrong, I’d take it, it was just unexpected.

  “What are you saying honey?”

  “Well I was just thinking that you’re still in damn good shape,” I said, trying to think of any sort of logic that would make my request sound halfway rational while at the same time not admitting that the reason I wanted her to dress up in sexy clothes was that I was turned on by the idea of guys from her old graduating class checking her out in said sexy outfits. In particular I
was getting turned on thinking about one guy in particular getting turned on by my wife in her sexy outfits.

  “You were saying how you haven’t accomplished anything, but think about all the women who are going to show up who let themselves go over the last ten years! You show up looking just as hot as the day you graduated wearing an outfit that shows it off and you’re definitely going to turn some heads,” I said.

  Abby shook her head. “Honey, that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.” She leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “But thank you for trying to make me feel better.”

  Damn it. She thought I was trying to make her feel better? Of course. She’d been upset about going to her reunion and she thought this was just me grasping at straws so she’d feel a little better about going to the reunion. Not that I desperately needed her to dress in the sexiest outfit possible so I could watch her old boyfriend ogle her. I needed to get this conversation back on track.

  “At least think about it,” I said. “I think it would be really hot to see you dressed up like that.”

  She leaned up and kissed me on the lips this time. “Don’t you think I’m hot no matter what I wear?”

  “Well yeah, but you know what I mean,” I said.

  Abby patted my cheek and turned to walk for the garage. I sighed, my shoulders slumping. I’d given it my best try, but it was looking like my best try wasn’t going to be enough. Sure she’d be hot no matter what she wore, she was definitely right about that, but I’d been secretly hoping she might slut it up just a little bit. That I might have a chance to show off my hot little wife to all the guys at that reunion. To watch them watching her.

  I wasn’t sure where these impulses were coming from, I wasn’t sure why I was letting them control me like this, but I knew that I couldn’t stop.

  Abby turned and looked over her shoulder as she reached the door to the garage. Her hair flew and she looked for all the world like a model doing a turn on a catwalk. She had a huge grin on her face.

  “And don’t worry baby,” she said. “I’ll think about what you said while I’m shopping.”

  And then she was gone. The door slammed shut behind her and I sighed again. My shoulders slumped. Only it was with relief rather than disappointment. She might be going along with the plan after all. And that was all I could ask for. All I could do was nudge her in the right direction. Try to take things to the very naughty place I wanted them to go.

  I waited until I heard the sound of the garage door. And then I waited another minute for the sound of the garage door closing. I moved to the front of the house and peered through the window just in time to see her car pulling out of the driveway and going down the road. And from there I spent another ten minutes puttering around the house making sure she wasn’t going to be coming back around because she forgot something.

  Finally I was satisfied Abby was gone. That meant I had at least a couple of hours even if it was a short shopping trip. I smiled to myself, my cock rock hard, and made my way upstairs. I pulled down the stairs leading up to the attic and stepped up into a dusty world that I usually only visited once or twice a year when it was time to bring down the decorations for Christmas and put them back up again.

  The place really could use a good cleaning. I was astonished at how much crap we’d managed to accumulate in the two and a half years since we moved into the place. We never had this much crap when we lived in an apartment. I suppose it really was an example of growing to fill space that you had.

  The first order of business was to get together a garbage bag full of stuff I could take out to the trash. She’d wanted at least one garbage bag full of stuff, and so I’d give her that before I started on my real plan. Besides, it was always a good idea to get my plausible deniability out of the way immediately so I didn’t have to rush around when I inevitably lost track of time and heard the garage door opening down below.

  Once that bag was full it was time to get down to the real work.

  I moved over to a box that was situated on the opposite side of the attic from the stairs. It looked innocent enough. Just your regular old-fashioned medium sized cardboard box from any old moving store. And it was marked “Abby Old” in permanent marker that had faded over the years since we’d moved from the apartment. In this case “Abby Old” meant it was stuff from high school and college. Exactly what I was looking for.

  I pulled the box off the shelf, careful not to disturb any of the other boxes surrounding it, and opened it. I started shaking as I did so. It felt almost as though I was doing something wrong by looking through this box. Almost as though I was violating a trust. The semi-forbidden nature of what I was doing had my cock throbbing as I looked through some of the old pictures.

  I almost couldn’t believe I was doing this, and yet there was a monster inside me that needed to do this. That needed to see some of those old pictures. That needed to see my wife with her old boyfriend.

  I started with her yearbook from her senior year. That was the year they finally got together after several years of dancing around one another. I’d pieced together bits of the story from the rare occasions I got her to talk about that year. They’d always been in a relationship with someone else, always carried a torch for each other, and then everything finally came together their senior year.

  Abby went to one of those small schools that served a town in the middle of nowhere. The kind of place that thought a single stoplight was a revolution in traffic control. The kind of place that you could blink and miss as you were traveling through on a highway except for the part where the speed went down to about thirty miles an hour and ruined the groove you’d set with your cruise control. Basically it was every average small town you’d ever see in the Midwest.

  It was easy enough to be in every page of the yearbook if you were big man or woman on campus in a place like that, and Abby and her boyfriend had been no exception to that rule. I looked back to the index, looked for her maiden name, and realized she was probably on just about every other page from the way of the page numbers ran on and on.

  So instead of trying to find specific pages with the two of them I just started flipping through the book. It was smaller than my old yearbook. Not nearly as many kids went to her school as to mind, and it really did seem like every other page was her and him together.

  Pictures from homecoming, her in her cheerleading outfit and him in his football uniform. A winning game on the way to winning the state championship according to the people who compiled the yearbook, though I suppose there was nothing to stop them from fibbing about that. A picture of them later that night winning homecoming King and Queen. Pictures from dances. From prom. King and Queen again.

  I closed my eyes and I was transported back to that dance. I imagined that I was him with her body pressed against me during a slow dance. How hot that must’ve been. No doubt his rock hard cock was pressing against her as they swayed back and forth to the music.

  Of course dancing close was as far as it would’ve went. She’d already mentioned to me that there was no hanky-panky after dances for her. No, they’d gone to the school sponsored after prom and that was that.

  I flipped through the book devouring every page. Devouring every moment of their relationship that was captured on those pages.

  They looked so happy. So sweet. Then I reached the end of the yearbook, though that hadn’t been my ultimate goal anyways. No, I was more interested in what came after. In the summer that still caused Abby to get a wistful look in her eyes when she talked about it, though I don’t think she realized that I noticed the way she looked when she talked about it.

  That was the summer when my wife, still the good little church girl, had gotten so close to breaking those rules for the boy she loved. Of course all those rules would be thrown out when she got to college and met me, I smiled at that small victory, but I was so hard thinking about how close they got that summer after high school. That summer before college. Just a short time before we’d meet for the first
time, although that would be a good half a year later and several thousand miles away.

  Those moments, that summer, were captured in another album she’d put together. Their names were written in sparkly ink on the front, though it had faded somewhat in the decade since she initially put it together. I flipped through the pages devouring every picture of them together.

  A picture of them at the beach. She looked amazing in her bikini and he was ripped. She still wasn’t quite the woman she would be, but there she was in the full flower of youth and beauty and I had to admit that my cock lurched as I thought back to the delicious treasures that my wife had to offer back then. And as I looked at that I imagined them at a bonfire on the beach. Making out. Thinking of my wife with her old boyfriend made my cock twitch. It made me lick my lips as I stared down at them. As I imagined him making out with my wife, rolling on top of her, their skin pressing together with her in a bikini and him in his swim trunks. I imagined their hot bodies pressing together in the sand.

  Not that there was much romance in the reality of making out in the sand. But in my mind where I was just fantasizing it was a fucking hot with none of the inconvenience that came from going for a little roll in the sand.

  I flipped forward, looking for the picture. The whole reason I came up here today. It was a picture I’d obsessed over through the years, though I’d never quite understood why I was so obsessed with it until today. I’d never understood why it would pop into my head at random moments. Only now that I was finally able to articulate this odd feeling, finally able to admit to this weird fantasy that had taken control of me, I understood exactly why the picture had such a big hold on my erotic imagination.

  The picture was taken at a bonfire sometime after they got out of school and before Abby went off to college. Before he made the decision that he’d rather stay home. That was the decision that had broken up their relationship. The decision that had paved the way for me to ultimately get together with my wife. Not for the first time, I wondered what might have happened if he decided to follow her, or if she decided to go to school closer to home. The thought made me sick to my stomach even as the thought of them together made my cock to throb.