The dryness of my mouth was contrasted by the juices seeping through my thong. After a long time of insisting, I had accepted my first hotwife challenge from my husband. We had participated in the lifestyle as a couple, but I had been hesitant to do anything by myself until he came up with a way for me to involve him.
The challenge was simple but the execution turned me into a nervous wreck. The first part was done, I had called the handyman and lied about something I needed fixed, which had me waiting in the living room wearing a robe with only my wedding day thong underneath just like my husband had planned.
I didn't know who was going to show up, how we would look or if he would even accept to be part of our daring challenge. Those factors filled me with anxiety but they were exactly what excited my husband. He was confident that no man would reject me, not when most of the extra weight I carried went to my lower body to give me a curvaceous appearance.
While I waited for the knock on the door, I teased myself over the soaked fabric of my thong. My body was committed to the challenge, surpassing the uncertainty in my mind and giving me a much-needed boost of confidence.
Who is gonna be the lucky guy, I thought, commencing a fantasy scenario that brought me closer to my husband's vision.
By the time the handyman arrived, I had taken myself to the edge of an orgasm a couple of times. I was ready, the moment to make my husband proud as a hotwife was here. From the instance I greeted him at the door, I felt as if he knew exactly what I was up to, and I had to remind myself that the uncertainty was all in my head.
He looked handsome in his uniform, with a scruffy beard, broad shoulders, and a sharp, clean haircut. I couldn't complain, I had hit the jackpot and my body was screaming for me to go through with my husband's plan.
I couldn't stop my face from turning red amid the small talk. "Um, yeah, It's the faucet upstairs," I said.
I led him up the stairs, each step seemingly increasing my heart rate, knowing that my robe was short enough for him to look up and see the bottom of my ass cheeks as my hips swayed.
He followed me into the bedroom, where I hesitated for a second before pointing him in the direction of the bathroom. This was the make-or-break part of the plan. I had gone over it so many times that I could hear my husband's voice in my head saying, he goes into the bathroom, you get in bed on all fours.
Part of me, my older reserved self, wanted to abort the scene but my husband's trust and support ushered me forward. I did just as he'd said, letting my robe fall off my shoulders to leave me with just a thing string protecting the purity of our marital bed. Doing this alone felt different, like I was betraying my husband, but I had to remind myself it was similar to the times when he'd sit in the corner of a hotel room and have me perform for him with another man.
You've turned me into a such a slut, I spoke to my husband in my mind as I looked down at my wedding ring.
When I heard the handyman's utility belt, I knew he was coming back out and that he would see me offering myself to him. My husband had reassured me plenty of times about this moment, but it didn't make me any less anxious.
"The faucet seems to... be working," he said, trailing off as he spotted me.
I closed my eyes and kept quiet, heightening my ears as I listened to him approaching. There was no going back, my husband's eroticism had led me here and it was now all in the hands of a stranger.
"Oh, I get it now. You're in need of a big tool," he said, adjusting on the fly to his roleplaying persona.
He stood behind me on the edge of the bed, working to unleash his awakened monster while taking in the visual of my flesh. Being a handyman, he was used to getting right into the job, and he did so by pulling my thong to the side, the same one my husband had removed on our wedding night. It was a similar moment except for the fact that I was more aroused than I'd ever been, with my clitoris and slit swollen in anticipation.
He was mere inches from penetrating me when I interrupted him, "Wait, can you, er, record it for my husband?"
This had been my husband's idea to include himself in the moment, which had been the deciding factor in me accepting the challenge. He spanked my ass, leaving behind a delicious sting as he walked over to the nightstand to retrieve my phone. I unlocked it for him with my fingerprint and opened the app for him to record my depravity for my husband.
"What do I tell him?" he asked, positioning himself behind my exposed hotness once again.
"Make...make fun of his dick," I said, staying on track with the plan.
He recorded a close-up of my pussy then bounced the weight of his cock on top of my ass. My pussy reacted to the touch. I could feel he was big, with a heavy and thick shaft.
"Bet she doesn't moan like this for your little dick," he said as he typed the caption.
He disappeared his length into me, making me do just what he said, moaning loud enough for my husband to hear on the video clip. He began thrusting into me, making my cheeks crash against his thighs until he reached the video time limit and the recording ended.
"Just sent it to that poor bastard," he said, placing the phone on the bed.
He grabbed my hips and resumed the motion of his hips. For him, he was just getting some free pussy, but for my husband and I, he was ruining our marital bed in what was our ultimate cuckold fantasy.