Mirrors 2

by Tonight I can write the filthiest lines

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Vignettes, Cheating, Slut Wife, Wife Watching, Light Bond, Humiliation, Swinging, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Sex Toys, Spitting, Exhibitionism, Public Sex, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: A hotel rendezvous is intercepted by an enthusiastic husband.

“Now seeing that, what would a man think to do to you?” I asked her, standing at her back and looking over her shoulder at our reflection in the mirrored surface of the elevator door.

She shook her head. She swallowed. I was unused to this trembling anxiousness in my wife. Normally, she was so self-assured. We were at ease with one another. But I had lifted the front of her skirt and put her subterfuge on display. She pushed her skirted bottom against my crotch, feeling for a way out.

“Go on. Say it.”

In the mirror, she looked me in the eye. Then looked away.

“Jane,” I said to her. “Such a fresh shave for a sales conference?”

The bell dinged. Before the doors slid open, I skinned her skirt back down. I saw the man who stepped in look her over, his gaze hitching for a moment on her stocking tops. Her bald and pantyless pussy remained our secret. But it hadn’t been meant for me.

When she told me she was going to the conference in Richmond, it was unremarkable. She traveled for work all the time. If she had announced that we were out of butter, or that the electric bill had come in the mail, it would have been barely more routine. What was it then that caught my attention? A slight elevation in her tone of voice, or the timing of the announcement just as she was handing me a cup of coffee, or some other detail so subtle it was below my consciousness. Somehow, I sensed it.

She would spend the night Friday, attend the conference Saturday, and return Sunday. While she was in the bathroom I looked in her travel bag, which was open on the bed. Everything seemed normal. Then I found the thigh high stockings and the pearl necklace rolled into the sleeve of her cardigan.

We had a rule, and we had an arrangement. She was either breaking the rule, or this was part of our arrangement. It all depended on whether she wanted to be caught. I suspected she wanted to be caught. I just had to find the proof.

She always made the trip by train and the train was always late. I could drive down and arrive before her. When she had gone, I looked around the house. She had left the credit card bill, opened and with the word PAID written on it, on the counter. I saw the charges for the train ticket and the hotel. Was this so that I would know where to find her? I looked in her night stand drawer. The stainless steel plug was gone. The silicone lube was gone too. I thought about what this implied. I felt my heart quicken with that peculiar mix of anxiety, jealousy, and lust. My cock swelled in my pants. I got my travel bag out of the closet and started packing.

I arrived at the hotel before the train reached Richmond. I checked in, went to my room, hung my clothes in the closet.

I was anxious that I would not find her. I was anxious that she would see me before I saw her. To ease my nerves, I laid on the bed and jerked off. I had an orgasm while picturing my wife with another man’s cock in her mouth.

I saw a sign indicating that the conference meet-and-greet would take place in the bar from 7pm. I found a table in a back corner. I could see the entrance but anyone entering would be looking toward the bar, not toward me. I ordered a gin and tonic, which is a suitable drink for acts of infidelity.

I saw her enter and walk up to the bar. She was wearing a loose backless silk blouse and a wrap skirt and heels. Her red hair was worn in braid, baring off her lovely neck and shoulders. Her round ass and firm calves attracted the gazes of a couple of other men. I had been keeping my eye on them. Was one of these men going to fuck my wife? I looked at her again. I had never seen this blouse before. I caught a glimpse of the side of her heavy breast in the loose silk. It would present a challenge to any man to keep his eyes above her neck. I found myself waiting for a better peek but I knew that if could see her from the front then she might see me as well. I looked down at my phone and sipped my drink and tried to be patient.

The man with whom she eventually started speaking seemed to know her already when he approached. He leaned against the bar, casual and easygoing. He wore a jacket and tie. He was tall, tanned, athletic. She put her hand on his arm and smiled. He waved to the bartender and ordered drinks for them both. He smiled at her and said something that made her laugh and touch her pearls. When she glanced away, he looked her over. She looked away long enough to allow him a good look. She pulled her shoulders back. She likes to show off. He indulged for a moment, then shifted his gaze away. Our eyes met. He saw that I had seen him looking. He smirked. A shared understanding. He put a hand on her hip. A few minutes later she turned around and left, after placing something on the bar top. He picked it up. Her card key.

The lock hummed and clicked. The door swung open. The man that my wife had been flirting with in the bar came into the room. He saw her on the bed and said, “Well that’s quite a talent to tie yourself up like that.”

“She didn’t tie herself up,” I said. “I did.”

The man was startled. I was sitting in one of the plush chairs by the balcony and he hadn’t seen me at first. But then his expression went from one of surprise to one of wary amusement. I smiled and nodded.

“So what is this?” he asked.

“She’s my wife,” I said.

“I didn’t know she was married.”

“You knew she was married. She never took her ring off.”

He shrugged. He looked at her again. She was on the bed on her knees with her ass up in the air and her wrists cuffed behind her knees. She was naked except for the thigh high stockings and the pearls and the leather wrist cuffs and her wedding ring. Her face was turned toward me, away from the man standing in the doorway. She was watching me patiently.

I stood up and said, “Come on in.” I went to the wet bar and made him a gin and tonic. “I saw you drinking them at the bar, “ I said.

He took the drink and thanked me.

My wife remained silent.

“How long have you known her?” I asked.

“A few months.”

“Fucked her yet?”

“No,” he said.

“Did you know what a slut she is?”

He seemed unsure how to respond. He shook his head.

“She shaved for you. Look at that. For me she leaves a little bush but for you she took it all off like a porn queen.”

We both stood sipping our drinks and admiring the view of her smooth vulva pouting between her stockinged thighs.

I sat on the edge of the bed. My wife smiled at me. I picked up the stainless steel butt plug from the night table and dribbled lube onto it.

“Hold her cheeks open,” I told the man. He set his drink on the nightstand and obliged. The lips of her pussy parted as well, and I could see that she was brimming with wetness. I ran the tip of the plug once around the rim of her ass before pushing it slowly inside. She had a look of determination on her face. She made the quietest moan when the widest part of the plug stretched her. Then it passed inside and she let out a breath. She clenched around it. We looked at her with the jewel glittering in her anus, her damp lips, her stockings and cuffs. Her red glistening mouth. Her red hair in a tight braid. Her ample breasts hanging against the bed. I felt a moment of pride at what a carnal delight she was. I pulled open the mirrored accordion door of the closet to an angle that would let her see herself, cuffed and prepped to be enjoyed.

“My wife is quite a little sex doll isn’t she?” I said.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Darling,” I said to Jane. “You never answered my question in the elevator.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t remember what you asked.”

“I pulled your skirt up and asked what you thought a man would want to do you.”

“I remember now,” she said.


“I would think a man would want to pull out that plug and put his cock in its place,” she said.

“That’s doesn’t take much imagination,” I told her.

“I don’t just want to imagine it,” she said.

I turned to the man. “Ok. Well what do you want to do to her?”

He looked at me, evaluating the offer. My cock was almost painfully hard. I sipped my gin and tonic and he sipped his and pursed his lips.

“She’ll do anything I tell her to,” I said. “That’s the arrangement, if she wants to fuck someone other than me. You should use her like you paid good money for her.”

He looked uncertain. The boundaries were unclear.

“Do you want to fuck her in the ass?”

“She does have a great ass.”

“Well I didn’t put that plug in just to decorate it.”

He smiled. He finished his drink and set the empty glass on the table. He sat on the edge of the bed and put his hand on her ass and stroked her down to her thigh. He squeezed her thigh above the stocking and gave it an appreciative jiggle. She perked her bottom slightly. He parted her lips with his thumb and wet it there and grazed her clitoris and she twitched her bottom like a cat.

“What do you like?” he asked her.

“You’re not hearing me,” I said to the man. “Don’t worry about what she wants. You’re not seducing her. I’m going to tell her what to do and she’s going to do it. Watch.”

I stepped closer.

“Jane, dear,” I said to my wife. “Come to the edge of the bed.”

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