Hotwife Hotel: A Wifewatching Romance (8 page)

Streak after streak of my own hot seed pulsed into her as she rode me to her own happiness. Just as I felt my climax wane, I felt her body shake on top of mine, felt her cunt clench me and felt her slow as she tried to draw up any of what I had left into her. When the peak of her pleasure passed, her middle started back into a rhythm, her tits bouncing pleasantly as she rode out the rest of the wave, then finally collapsed on top of me in a heap.

We lay there for a while, in the hot sticky silence of the room as the weather gathered outside for another summer storm.

I thought for a long time about what to say, how to bring it up and which words would best express how I felt and least betray my fear at how I did.

"So you like being watched, huh?" I whispered finally, having summoned the courage from her wild fuck.

She answered with a gentle snore.

Chapter 12

Andre left the next day, but said he would definitely be back. He said he loved it here more than anywhere else he had gone to get away. He said that he would call and make sure we had no other reservations before he came back, so that we could have just as nice a time. That made me shudder. How nice had it really been? For him?

I shook his hand and smiled a cautious smile and Rebecca had waved to him as we watched Sam take him on the boat.

"Well, we did it," I had said once they were out of view. "Our first guest was a success, I think. Don't you?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed a little and patted me on the arm and said "Oh John," and it drove me mad.

Oh John? Oh John, what? Oh John, I loved fucking that big black man? I shook the thought from my head as we headed up the stairs towards the house. There were a few days between now and the arrival of our next guests. Plenty of time to figure all this out.

After a few glasses of wine with dinner, she didn't seem to be as ready for affection as she'd been the night before.

"Oh John, I'm feeling sort of sleepy tonight, can we take a rain check?" she asked, as I rolled towards her with intent. My heart sank but my head knew it was better to let it go now. Try again another day rather than risk a fight and several days of silence and regret. My body craved her though and it was hard to ignore that. I didn't just want to be inside her. I wanted to be inside her head.

Was it a coincidence that suddenly when our guest had left her interest in me waned? It was surely just a coincidence. Once the sounds of her delicate breathing made it clear she was asleep, I tiptoed to the office and indulged in my own release.

Then the next day she seemed distant. Like we'd never had that night of passion. Like we'd always led our life this way. It clawed inside me, to ask her what I'd asked her that night.

What about that thing you like? Being watched?

As usual though, the only way I found to express that notion was by trying to have more sex. I met with some resistance, most of the time. That, as usual, only made me want it more. I began to pout, something I knew she found particularly unappealing but something I couldn't help. I'd try to mate at the strangest times. While she was doing laundry in the basement, or changing sheets for the coming guests. The closer their arrival drew, the more I felt the need to claim her, and the more urgent my need became to know her thoughts.

Finally, as I made another advance while she was making lunch, I pushed her to her limit and caused her to explode.

"John, stop it! You've been walking around pouting for the last three days then trying to get me to crawl into bed with you! I hate that!"

She was right. But it hurt to hear it spoken nonetheless.

"Well you haven't exactly been friendly either!" I countered, trying to split the blame for my moodiness down the middle.

"Because you've been in a mood this whole time!" she said, waving her arms to indicate the vast expanse of my depression. "What is going on?!?"

What was going on? I knew more or less what was going on, or at least what was causing me to act the way I was. I wasn't sure if I was ready for her to know it, too.

"Rebecca..." I began. My mouth stayed open but no words came out. How to start?

I could see that she was searching my expression, the same way I would search her eyes to see what I could find there. Something about the way she looked right then, how concerned she was, made me want to come clean.

"I've been having...thoughts."

Whatever. It was a start.

She graciously softened her expression and shook her head. "Thoughts about what?"

I took a deep breath. Where to start? "You remember when we met?" I asked, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice.

"Of course I remember when we met," she offered, but softly. Like she didn't want a fight any more than I did.

"You remember what you said to me?"

She blushed. She blushed! Rebecca didn't blush!

"John, that was a long time ago..." I watched her eyes follow her mind into the past.

"It wasn't
that
long ago." I felt better now. Her blush had somehow made me feel better. Like I had a little bit of control over myself again. "You said you saw me watching you."

She turned her eyes down in shame. Most likely at what had happened after she said it than at the fact she'd said it at all.

I faltered for a second, worried that she wouldn't reciprocate my honesty. But having come this far gave me courage, and I didn't want to stop.

"Okay look, maybe it's just me, but..."

She looked up and her eyes were big and curious, almost looking nervous at what I was about to say.

"...it felt like things were...different lately?"

Her face didn't relax completely. Cautiously curious.

"What do you mean?"

For fuck's sake. Why did I have to be the one that said it?

"Didn't you think that sex was kind of...hotter the last few times? Maybe?"

I watched her soften at the memory and it filled me with relief.

"I guess. So?"

Really? She was going to make me spell it out?

"Did that have anything to do with..." I cleared my throat. This part could go either way. "Andre?"

"Andre?!?" she asked, looking at me like I'd just killed a cute, small, furry animal with my bare hands. This was making me want to give up.

"I just thought that..."

"Why would you say that?!? About Andre?!?" There was shock there now, and what else? Fear?

"Okay Rebecca. Fine. Let's pretend neither of us felt anything different and that none of this ever happened." I turned around and started to walk away because I wasn't going to be the one solely responsible for fucking everything up.

"Wait." Her voice sounded like she was ready for us to fuck it up together. "I have to tell you something."

Oh fuck. The way she said it, the...was it regret that made it sound the way it did? Whatever it was it made me cold all of a sudden and stuck to the floor, not daring to turn around and see the face that went with that sound. I did, finally. I turned around to see her small and humble and penitent. Oh fuck no.

"Okay," I managed even though my throat was tight.

She looked up and it looked like she might cry and half of me wanted to hug her and the other half...I don't know what that other half was doing but it was turning my stomach upside down and inside out, just watching her there. "Is this bad?" I added, my voice barely a whisper.

Her tiny nod, that restrained admission of her guilt made me brace myself for what I was about to hear.

"Just say it."

"John..."

Fuck. Just say it.

"...I smoked with him."

I didn't really know what disappointed. relief could feel like until just then. My nerves, the ones that had stopped working and focused entirely on what she was going to say, suddenly released inside me with a shiver and the tension that I needed to expel came out in a laugh. A hearty, awkward laugh that made me warm.

"You're not mad?" she asked, like she couldn't believe my reaction.

Another deep breath. I was taking a lot of those lately. "I'm not mad. I'm relieved."

"Relieved? About me smoking?" She seemed genuinely confused, which only made my explanation feel more absurd. But it was what it was, I had to say it now.

"Beck, for some strange reason, I thought you two were..."

The grip of another panic came instantly as she looked down, her gaze skittering along the floor.

No. Rebecca, no. Did you? Why the fuck was this making me get hard?

"Rebecca?" Her name sounded like a foreign sound. "Did something happen?"

"He tried to kiss me," came in an anxious whisper, with a bite of her lip.

Relief again but filled with excitement. "And did you?"

She let the question hang there, like a knife above our necks.

"No."

I breathed again. Then I ventured forward, the energy between us making me brave.

"Did you want to?"

"John..."

I stepped towards her, put my hands on her arms and looked deep into her eyes. Even if I couldn't bring myself to say it, I wanted her to know there was something there. It wasn't just a "no" I was looking for.

"Just tell me how you really feel," was what came out. I tried to drive it home with my stare. "Did you want to?"

"No," she said, then hesitated. "...but kind of yes?"

I was unprepared for that sweet, warm punch in the gut that hit me at hearing it. Of course it had been brewing as a fantasy for so long, but to finally hear her say it was something that took me by surprise. She must have noticed it by my expression.

"I don't know why I said that," she added quickly, looking up at me with imploring eyes, like she needed forgiveness.

"Let's have a drink," I countered, making sure she knew I wasn't too upset. Once we'd both calmed ourselves with scotch and sat down at the table, everything felt safer. At least for me.

"The thing is," I began. I couldn't help a chuckle at how absurd this was going to sound. "The thing is that I've been thinking about what you said when we met a lot lately."

"You have?" she countered, with more than just a note of interest in her tone.

"I have. I guess...I don't know, that just stuck with me and the thing is Beck...I am just so obsessed with you that even when you're not around, I'm thinking of you."

She smiled and tilted her head in that way she always did when she thought I was being sweet.

"It's true," I went on, "but wait! There's more!" I stuck a finger up into the air and she gladly accepted my invitation at a chance to laugh. "Here's the thing, see," I went on, when she'd had her chuckle. "Even though it was kind of crushing me inside, that there might be something going on, I don't know..." I drifted off into my own mind, not sure how to finish what I'd started. There was really only one way to do it. "It kind of...turned me on. You know?"

It felt like a moment of truth, brought on by my truthful moment. I watched her eyes to try and see what she really thought. It was a weird light that reflected from them as she searched for how to answer. When she looked at me again, my heart raced and grew and I felt ready for a new adventure. Like I hadn't felt in a long time.

"I kind of felt it, too..."

The moment was shattered by a banging on the door and we both jumped and turned to see the figure of a man there, peering in through the window.

"Fuck," I said, turning back to her.

"They're early," she replied.

Chapter 13

"Yer doing what?!?" Sam hollered, his wrench clattering on the garage floor.

"We're thinking of offering tours. Whale-watching tours."

"Whale-watching? Who's gonna come all de way here to see some fish?"

Oh Sam. Good ole' out of touch Sam.

"Probably a lot of people. That's what we're hoping for."

"Yer crazy. You'll bankrupt yerself. Nobody wants to see dem big fish out there. Dey want resorts and shit!" Sam picked up the fallen wrench, then hunched over his truck.

"You let us worry about that, Sam."

"Well what do you need me for then anyways?"

"We don't have a boat. You have a boat. We have to go out on the ocean to see the whales."

He stood up, staring at me and pushed his cap back. "You think people will pay to sit in that leaky old bucket and stare at fish? You
have
gone friggin crazy!"

I pulled the papers I'd printed out of my pocket with a sigh. "Look," I said, pushing them towards him.

"What's dis den?" he asked, taking the papers with a greasy hand.

"Our first reservations. We just put the ad up a few days ago and we already have customers."

"Well I'll be...fucked." Sam let out a low whistle, obviously amazed. "But you don't have a boat?"

"That's why I just don't know what to do Sam. What should I do?"

"Alright, that's enough of takin' the piss," he muttered.

"You'll do it then?"

Sam scratched his head and handed back the crumpled pages. "Yeah, I knows...we'll have to fix 'er up!"

"I'll help."

"When're the first ones coming?"

"Two weeks this Friday."

Sam shrugged but seemed to accept the idea. "Fine. Whatever helps to make a bit of money!" When he looked back up at me, I could tell he was going to ask about something else. "Say John," he began, looking side to side as if there might be someone lurking in the garage and listening to what we were saying. "I know dis ain't any of my business but..." He scratched under his cap with a finger again. "You ever find out anything about dat der Andre fella?"

I couldn't help a smile at his fishing for gossip. "A thing or two."

"He ever, you know, make his indiscretions known?"

I laughed at that one. "He's coming back in a month or so, if that answers your question."

Sam raised his eyebrows at that one but after a moment of contemplation, decided to leave it alone. "Suit yourself. Don't say I didn't warn ya!"

"I won't, Sam. I won't," I answered, walking out of the garage and heading towards the house.

"Say, John?" Sam asked before I was around the corner.

"What's up?"

"One other thing. I've got a few fellas coming up mid-week, to do some fishing with me. Any chance they could get a discount at your place?" Good old Sam had his hat in his hand, the way people used to when asking for favours.