The first part of a three-part short story
Turning Katie Into a Hotwife
How a simple conversation sets a young wife on the road to becoming a hot-wife
Perhaps nineteen was too young for Katie and me to have married. But even now, if I could go back, I would not change a thing.
Two years into our marriage and four into our relationship, we were discussing bucket lists. Katie trotted out the same old: trips to foreign lands, adventures we would never have, restaurants we would never visit, bands we would never see, dolphins she would never swim with, and the skydives she would never pluck up the courage to risk.
When it was my turn, something inside me rebelled against serving her the usual cliches. I had a much better one: the one I had secretly nursed for more months than I cared to put a figure on.
“A threesome,” I said quite emphatically. “Top of my list would be a threesome.” Suddenly, I was proud of myself for plucking up the nerve to say it, for getting it out in the open. I hoped she would think it a wonderful idea.
Even though she laughed, Katie’s demeanor changed; the shadow of a thundercloud gliding over the meadow grass on a summer day. A subtle tensing of facial lineaments. A baring of teeth that she tried to pass off as a smile.
She waited for me to list my other bucket items. When none were forthcoming, she asked:
“And that’s it? A threesome.”
“Pretty much,” I replied.
“Jeez, Seb! That is so cheesy.”
She was silent for a moment, regarding me with a curious look that betrayed nothing about what she might be thinking.
Finally, she said: “And did you have anyone in particular in mind for this little orgy of yours?”
I was on dangerous ground now, and I stepped more carefully.
“Not really. Just you and some other girl?” I said, as casually as I could manage. “I thought you might know someone we could ask?”
She became silent again, and I hoped she might be considering it. Finally, she said, “There’s Annabelle from work. She’s polyamorous.”
“And you would ask her?” I said, only too ready to believe she might. I had never met this Annabelle, but I was sure a girl with such a name would jump at the chance to get into bed with Katie and me.
“God, Seb! You’re unbelievable,” she said. “What if I said I wanted another man to join us? How would you feel about that?”
“You don’t, do you?” I said, suddenly fearing she might. In all my weeks of imagining a threesome, the idea of another bloke getting involved never crossed my mind.
“Would sucking cock be a problem for you?” she asked, her face so serious, as if winning a fortune depended on me giving the right answer.
And for a moment, I actually thought about it. And then I knew I wouldn’t. Another man in our bed: ugh! My face reflected my thoughts.
“So then, Seb, why do you think I might like licking pussy?”
“Come on Katie, everyone knows all girls are secretly bi.”
“I don’t know where you got that idea, matey, but this girl isn’t.”
How we were talking was exciting me. I was picturing some amorphous hunk of a guy taking her in his arms.
“Noah’s quite nice,” she was now saying.
“Lucy’s Noah?”
“Do we know any other Noahs?”
“But why him? he’s devoted to Lucy.”
“Have you ever watched them together, ever heard the snark and contempt in her tone when she speaks to him?”
“Am I missing something here?” I asked.
“Remember last Christmas. Their New Year party?”
“Sort of...” I said.
“No, you wouldn’t remember it at all — seeing how you left me on my own and went off to their garden studio with your daft mates to smoke weed.”
“I’ve already apologized for that; it was thoughtless and crass of me.”
“Well, if you hadn’t been so eager to impress your friends, I might not have had to look elsewhere for company,” Katie said.
And then it all came out: how she had been in the front lounge talking with Lucy and Noah when their little boy had woken up. Lucy had gone upstairs to settle their two-year-old, Alex, and left her alone with Noah.
Soon, Katie and Noah were the only two left in the room. There was a fire burning in the grate, and the lights were down low. She had been very drunk by then, and for reasons she claims not to remember, she had let Noah kiss her, the husband of her oldest friend.
As she told me this, I managed to control my jealousy and anger. I rationalized, asking myself how I could be mad with her when, only five minutes ago, I was trying to persuade her to allow another woman into our bed.
No more was said that night. But she had planted a seed. Now, instead of me between two women, my sexual fantasies were all of my wife Katie and Noah in bed together. Her legs spread to accommodate the incessant rise and fall of his hips.
I wondered about his cock, trying to envisage the size of him. My worst fears were that he might be hung like a donkey. The thought of it inside my sweet Katie had me sick with excitement.
I realized there would be no relief from such a fantasy until I had watched it play out in real life.
Follow the link to Part 2, below: