A Well-Laid Trap: The Story Of A Professional Hotwife (15 page)

I'm downstairs. Come find me.

Jordan.

But
not
Jordan.

I don't know why I knew, because it had been years since I had been at The Yacht Club, for precisely the same reason all of these people were at The Yacht Club, but there was a long hallway at the bottom of the stairs with elegant, private bathrooms. I went full-circle in the slow-moving revolving door and nearly ran down the stairs, tucked away near the entrance to the club from the hotel.

A couple was ahead of me, kissing and groping on the stairway. Perhaps the popularity of The Yacht Club stemmed from the fact that there were so many elegant bathrooms at the bottom of this stairway, where people could, and did, get coked up or fuck in private.

I stared at the long hallway, not knowing where to look for Jordan.

She emerged from one of the doorways, leaning against the door, and smiled at me. Her smile was unlike any smile I had seen on her face before. Sexually charged, a little filthy, definitely mischievous. Her eyes dropped to my pants and she smiled a little more.

I stepped into the bathroom, weak at the knees almost.

“That. Was...” I said. I shook my head. “Fucking incredible.”

It
was,
I would realize later, a little disconcerting to me that Jordan, instead of being sheepish, was on her own high. “That was a pretty sexy one,” she said. She got close to me. “I don't normally have to be so...forward.”

I caught my breath and she ran her fingers down my chest, similarly to how she had done with him.

“What did you say to him?” I breathed. I was desperate to know what she had said, in her low nasal voice, that had wound him up so much.

“You want me to tell you, word for word?”

I nodded.

Her hand moved down to my cock, and she massaged me through the fabric of my pants. “I said,” she began, and she squeezed my cock, “I have to go back and take care of an emergency, but one hour from now, I'm going to be all alone in my room, with my cunt all wet and ready to get someone's cock nice and wet. For my ass.”

My mouth hung open.

My wife. Saying this to another man. And what's more, that it had an air of realism about it, now that Jordan had become so...experimental...in bed.

She smiled. “I got the idea from you,” she said.

But Jordan didn't give me much time to think about what to say. “I'm so glad you're here, though, because talking all that filthy trash to such a...good-looking guy...got me pretty hotted up.”

“Oh yeah,” I breathed. “And what would you do if I weren't here?”

She moved toward the sink, and edged herself up onto the marble counter. Her expression was unusual; challenging, sexy, confident as hell. She gave her hair a toss, and then she opened her legs. The short skirt rode up along the length of her thigh, and the shadows moved with it, further and further up the smooth inside of her thighs, until I could see her snatch. She had no underwear on, in that tiny little skirt. I replayed, on high-speed, everything I had just seen, with the knowledge now that she had been panty-less the whole time, and I almost keeled over from the pain in my cock.

“Fuck, Jordan,” I said. I wasn't sure what I meant to say next, or what I meant by that. Was it too far? Was it too risque?

Or was it just the hottest thing I had ever seen or imagined in my whole life?

Or all of that?

Jordan moved her fingers over her thigh, and played with the skin on the inside of her leg. She teased herself in little circles, getting ever-closer to the very wet pink slit of her cunt, which was all I could really see. I was almost too dizzy to stand up.

“I guess it's better that you're here,” she said, sliding her finger, finally, along the center stripe of pink in her pussy. She brought her finger up to her mouth, and closed her lips around it, sucking it off with a pop. “Or I don't know what I would do.”

Jesus Christ. It was the most lewd thing I had ever seen with my own two eyes, somehow. Certainly the most..I don't know...cheap, porno-like thing I could think of Jordan ever doing, even in these past few months.

I unfastened my belt, and started to drop my pants.

As I did, Jordan slid from the counter, and turned around. She tossed her hair over her head. “Don't think this is an invitation to...you know,” she laughed, momentarily more like her old self. She narrowed her eyes quickly though, looking at me through the mirror. “I just want to feel your cock pushing up against my ass,” she said. She was referring to the fact that my cock bent, very dramatically, upward when I was hard.

I looked down at her bare ass, and her dripping slit. No need to ask me twice. I freed my cock and found her hole. I sank into her flesh, and she bucked up against my hips. She squeezed my cock, and she slapped her ass backward against me, pushing up in her tall, tall boots, so that she could match my own force as we slammed into each other.

She slowed, however, and looked at me in the mirror. “Don't come inside of me,” she said, stroking my cock slowly with her superheated pussy. “I want to lick my cum off your cock, and then suck your cum out into my mouth.”

I didn't say anything, but squinted my eyes closed instead. “Fuck,” I whispered. She was moving slowly, but even that was too much for me. There was no way I was going to make it. I felt her pussy clenching around me, and I tried to push down the wave of orgasm that was rolling in and over me: it was like the first part of a tsunami, sucking out, ready to come in fast.

“Jordan,” I gasped.

She ground her hips against me and opened her mouth, emitting a mewl. I felt her pussy water up, and I fought the urge to spill my seed.

Sending how close I was, she slid off my cock, and turned around. I was so hard, so ready to go, that it was almost painful. It hit me like a belly-flop. She watched my cock without touching it, amused. “Just a little longer,” she coaxed. She slid down to her knees, and looked at my cock without touching me. She wanted me to back away from the cliff. It was awful, it was torture, it was fucking incredible.

She reached up and grasped my cock after a pause, right at the base. I felt myself twitch violently in her hand, and she pulled me closer to her, turning her head slightly to the side.

With the flat of her tongue, she licked my cock from where her fingers were closed around the base, along the length of my shaft, in a circle around my glans, and back down the opposite side of my cock to the base again. I closed my eyes. I felt her tongue snake over my balls – not licking so much as tickling, and then her tongue was wet and flat against the bottom of my cock. She ran it up to the tip, and lapped at the precum that was practically pouring from my dick.

She rubbed the head of my cock against her lips, giggling a little, and obviously at how worked up I was. I looked over at the mirror, and the sight of her holding my cock and opening her mouth was almost too much to bear. I watched her in the mirror until my cock disappeared entirely into her mouth, and then I looked down at her as she hollowed her cheeks to, as she had promised, “suck my cum out of my cock.”  

I came violently, my orgasm slamming inside of me. I could feel my cum spurting inside of her mouth, but I had no time to warn her.

She stunned me then. Rather than pulling her mouth away and jerking me off, which would normally have been what Jordan would do, she fell down to her heels, and positioned her face right below me.

She leaned her head all the way back, so that her face was almost horizontal. And then, she opened her mouth, and used her hand to stroke the last spurts of cum right into her open mouth. Stray streaks clung to her cheek, and one slid down to her exposed neck, but most of my cum landed neatly in her open mouth. I could see it, gathered at the back of her throat.

I stared, until the last of my gut-wrenching orgasm wrested free of me and pooled in the back of my wife's throat.

Then she tipped her head forward, and swallowed. She ran her finger up her neck, gathering a last little streak of cum, and sucked it from her finger.

I was still staring, totally spent and totally shocked.

Jordan smiled. She popped up, scooting her skirt down to the middle of her thigh (barely). She turned to the sink, and reached out to snatch a paper towel with an ease that almost seemed practiced. She wiped cum from her face, dropped the paper towel in the wastebasket, and then pulled her lipstick from her purse.

Her eyes dropped to my still-exposed, and still-hard cock, and she smiled. She pressed her lips together. “I was going to ask if that was a bit too far,” she said. “But I guess not.”

I zipped up my pants.

Was “what” a bit too far? I wondered.

We left the hotel separately, at Jordan's insistence. If she ran into her mark, she explained, she could still salvage things if she was alone. I told her where the car was parked and gave her the keys, thinking it was better that she didn’t stand around on the street in that get-up with no panties on. Only after she had already gone did I realize she was probably over the limit and that was a bad idea.

My head was spinning as I waited for her.

It was the hottest sex I had ever had. I was pretty sure of that. Jordan's sluttiness, her raw dirtiness, was almost too fucking good to be true.

The fact that it was a hotel bathroom, that it was after she had just reeled in a hot guy with no underwear on, in a roomful of hot women, and with such professional ease, also had me on a high unlike any other.

It was all so dirty, so dangerous, so
hot.

Lurking around, though, was some other bad feeling. Jealousy? Maybe. Concern? Maybe.

My car swung around the corner, and Jordan squealed to a stop. I started for the driver's side and she lay her hand on the horn. “Just get in,” she said.

I plopped in the seat and looked at her. Her long legs looked incredibly sexy with her skirt bunched up at the very top of them. I could even see a little smear of her juices on the inside of her left leg. I could smell her, her tangy fragrance and her heat. She looked fucking great driving, her muscles flexing as she operated the pedals, her face cool and collected.

Jesus.

We had the windows down. A hot breeze had taken over the city. I felt like I had gone back in time somehow, to younger times. Like we were in high school again, no place to drive, carefree.

But I was still bothered.

“So how does it work, from here?” I said. “You really have a hotel room?”

Jordan smiled and pressed her lips together.

She smiled. “Well, there's no real ground fro divorce, unless there's real adultery,” she purred, moving her hand across the seats and into my lap. She smiled against when she found my hard cock.

“You know,” she said, “I was worried you wouldn't be okay with this?” She turned to me. Her hair was whipping in the wind, and she looked hotter than ever. “But it seems you sort of like it so much...”

She raised her eyebrows.

She knew she had me on the hook.

“How far do you go?” I said.

She smiled. Shrugged.

“How far do you take it, Jordan, for real?”

She looked over at me quickly. “Babe,” she said, and her face had changed. “I'm just teasing you because it seemed like you were into it.”

I faced the front of the car and leaned my head against the headrest until it snapped back. I sighed at the roof of the car.

“That guy's gonna show up the hotel room and run into his wife,” Jordan said. “And Arest.”

She looked over at me. “Fully clothed they will be.”

I didn't respond. I couldn't tell what I was feeling. Part of me wanted to hear something else entirely, even though that “something else” would be like a hot poker through my chest, to my other sensibilities.

“Look,” she said, and she pulled over the car.

I looked back at her.

“I never take it that far. Never anything more than...like what you saw tonight.”

I could feel my cock coming to life again as I remembered Jordan running her hands all over the man's chest.

“But it turns you on,” I said.

Jordan looked at me pointedly. She smiled and sat back in her seat. “Maybe. But I can see it turns you on, too.”

I sighed again, and banged my head on the headrest. It was true.

“You ever do more than that?” I found myself saying.

Jordan turned coyly to me. “I need to know why you're asking.”

I shrugged.

“You want me to do more?” she said.

“Do you?”

Jordan bit her lip. She reached for my cock again, rubbing it through the material. “Sometimes. If he's a hot guy.”

“
Do
you ever do more?”

She shook her head.

“You've never, say, rubbed up against a guy's cock. Over his pants. Nothing like that?”

She smiled. Her hand pressed against me harder. We were on a very public street, I realized suddenly, and there were quite a few people passing by. Any of them could, and probably did, see into the seats. See what we were doing.