Hotwife / Sharing / Voyeur / Cuckold Erotica

The Hotwife Hotel

Our first visit turned our lives upside down…

My wife and I loitered at the hotel bar. I didn’t take the stool next to her, that would have defeated the point.

You see this particular hotel has a reputation for one thing. Wives on the prowl. Frequented by cuckold couples, swingers and women looking to have no strings attached fun.

It had taken me weeks to convince my wife to come. We’d played with the idea of her being a hotwife, incorporating it into our foreplay and roleplay in the bedroom, but reaching the point where we were ready to explore our fantasy took time.

Not that you’d know that to look at her. Sitting there at the bar in a tight mini skirt, a deep cut blouse and a pair of heels that added a pleasing few inches to the expanse of beautiful exposed flesh of her sensual legs.

I watched, transfixed as a man approached her from the corner of the bar. He was tall, dark and handsome with a jaw that could break granite. My heart skipped a beat as his eyes bored a hole in my wife’s skimpy outfit.

As he reached her, his eyes flicked to me, appraised me in a moment and returned to devouring my wife.

I’d been noticed, weighed and measured, and determined not to be a threat.

We all knew why we were here.

He slid between us, placed his large hand over Tara’s and smiled.

“Come with me,” was all he said. Not a question, or an invitation.

An instruction. A command.

I leaned forward, curious how my wife would respond.

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, looked up at him, and nodded.

“I’m Damon,” he added as he took my wife by the hand, helped her off the chair and started leading her through the bar toward the door.

“Tara,” she giggled.

Neither of them even bothered to see if I was following.

I did. My heart beating like a drumroll in my chest. I’d waited for this for years.

On the one hand, part of me was flooded with intense jealousy. That was my wife who’s hand he’d taken. That was my wife he was planning to do filthy things to. I could see the hunger in his eyes.

The other part of me, the voyeur, was intensely aroused and I couldn’t hide the tent forming in my pants.

What would it be like to watch them?

I didn’t have to wait long.

No sooner had the elevator doors closed, than Damon twirled my wife around to face me. He pulled her tight against himself with the arm he had wrapped around her, with the other he reached straight for her breast.

Tara’s eyes went wide as his huge hand squeezed her breast, kneading it with his fingers he found her nipple. She wasn’t wearing a bra and Damon grinned like a fiend as he teased her nipple to hardness.

I watched him, speechless and spellbound as he helped himself to my wife.

The elevator rose steadily, but neither of them cared.

Tara’s breath grew heavy and frantic as his hands went to her miniskirt. It barely covered her panties, but one firm pull from Damon peeled it up to her waist, revealing her white lacy thong.

I found myself wondering just how far he would go. We were in an elevator. At any moment the elevator could stop and pick up more people.

Damon didn’t care. He pressed his hand to my wife’s mound and started teasing her sex with his fingers. Her lace panties gave little resistance and his attention drew a groan of approval from Tara as she melted into him.

That was the moment I knew this hulking bear of a man was going to fuck my wife. Mercilessly.

The elevator chimed and I panicked. At least until I realized that we were at the top floor. The penthouse. Damon’s floor evidently. I had been so distracted I didn’t even see what button he’d pressed.

He scooped Tara up and threw her over his shoulder.

She let out another giggle as he carried her out of the elevator her thong clad ass providing quite the view as it bounced across the hall. He pulled a security card from his pocket and ran it over the scanner at the door.

It unlocked, and he pushed it in.

I picked up my pace to keep up with them, sliding into the room before the door shut behind them.

Neither of them paid me much heed. Tara was wholly distracted by Damon’s advances. He was a hunter, and she was his prey. His very willing prey.

I slid quietly into a chair in the corner of the room as Damon made his way closer to the window.

The curtains were open, the city’s nightlights illuminating the skyline.

It was quite the view, but still nothing compared to the sight of Tara’s supple body against his.

Damon hooked his finger through my wife’s thong and peeled it slowly down her long legs. No sooner had he slipped it over her heels than he threw it in my lap.

I picked up the flimsy fabric. It was soaked and I could smell my wife’s arousal.

Tara looked like a toy on his shoulders as he stood before me, his hand cupped over her bare ass, his fingers moving steadily toward her sex.

She might have been my wife, but right now she was his.

I knew it, and he knew it. With a strength I couldn’t have matched he spun her around until her bare pussy rested against his face, one of her long slender legs over each of his shoulders, her face dangling in front of his crotch.

“Oh my,” Tara groaned as Damon began eating her out.

She was trapped, upside down against him as his tongue probed her sensitive folds.

Damon gripped Tara’s ass with both hands, pulling her into his face as he devoured her.

Tara’s moans grew as she began fumbling with his belt buckle. I looked at his slacks and could see the fat column of flesh rising from its resting place against his leg.

Damn it was as big as the rest of him.

Tara got his slacks unzipped and sent them to his ankles, allowing Damon’s monster to spring free.

It slapped gently across her face, and I could see the shock in her eyes as she studied both its lengths, and its huge head.

She eagerly returned Damon’s efforts, grabbing that shaft with both hands as she sucked on the head. Bobbing against him as she tried to take more of it in her mouth.

With a shuffle, Tara slid out of her top and gravity left it on the floor as her breasts swung free.

Watching them pressed against Damon, his throbbing cock between her lips almost sent me over the edge.

Tara was right there with me as she reached for one of her sensitive nipples. She squeezed it between two fingers as Damon devoured her.

“I’m going to cone,” Tara gasped, releasing his cock. “Yes baby, that’s it. Right there!”

Tara’s body trembled and shook as her climax jolted through her.

Damon’s grin returned as my wife came on his tongue. The smug bastard.

Lifting her down from his shoulder, Damon helped steady her. Tara was naked but for her heels, and her bundled up miniskirt around her waist. It was more of a belt at this point really.

Damon held her body against him as his erection rested against her hip. Tara’s breaths were coming in short, ragged gasps.

“I want you to put this in me,” she pleaded, running her hand along the shaft. “Please.”

My wife was begging him for it. Had I let things go too far?

There was no stopping them now. I knew that. Her body was on fire and Damon got her there. There was no chance he was going to relinquish his prize now.

Damon walked Tara over to the ottoman in front of my chair and leaned her over it. Kneeling behind her, he lined his cock up and slid it along her slit.

“Whose pussy is this?” he asked. She couldn’t see but he was smiling at me the whole time.

Tara looked up, her eyes resting on mine for a moment. There was no apology in them, only lust. I’d asked for this, and her eyes told me I was going to get it. And so was she.

“Yours Damon,” she whispered.

“Louder,” Damon demanded.

“Yours!” Tara bellowed, “take it, it’s yours.”

Tara’s body rocked toward me as Damon drove his full length inside of her.

“So big,” was all Tara could manage as she gripped the ottoman with both hands.

Damon drew back, grabbed her bundled up miniskirt and used it as leverage to pull her back toward him, impaling her on his length again.

Tara groaned into the ottoman, and Damon took my wife.

Relentlessly, mercilessly, repeatedly.

The sound of their flesh meeting as his hips slammed into her ass, were met by her moans which only seemed to grow as the animalistic pounding continued.

I lost all control watching my wife being used for his pleasure. There was an intense eroticism to it. The sight of his huge shaft against her soft white skin. I exploded all over my lap as my wife had her second orgasm.

Damon gripped her hips with both hands, driving himself deeper and deeper. I could see a sheen of sweat on his shaved head, the only sign that he was fatiguing at all.

His own grunts were deeper now, almost primal.

Pulling Tara into him, Damon buried himself deep inside my wife and exploded. I could tell, I could see the intense pleasure in his eyes, it matched the mix of pleasure and shock in Tara’s as she lifted her head off the ottoman.

My wife looked at me and we both knew what he’d done.

He’d filled my wife, and with each stroke he was pumping more of himself into her.

When he finally withdrew, his shaft was slick with their juices.

Damon reached a hand toward me.

“Phone,” was all he said.

Without thinking I pulled out my phone and handed it to him.

He snapped a photo of his cock, my wife’s naked form behind it. He punched something into the phone and handed it back to me.

“When I call, bring your wife,” Damon instructed.

I looked down at the picture he’d set as the background on my phone and saved as the photo for his contact card.

It read simply ‘Sir’.

I swallowed and looked from him, to my wife’s face. Tara was grinning from ear-to-ear in her afterglow.

“Yes, Sir,” I replied, tucking my phone back in my pocket.

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