A Well-Laid Trap: The Story Of A Professional Hotwife (8 page)

L
IE, LIE, LIE

You might think, now is the point in the story when Paddy is going to confront his wife.

But Paddy, at this point in the story, is a crazy person.

So I did neither of these things.

I went home.

I staked out my house again.

I waited.

At ten-thirty, headlights swung into the driveway. I peered into the darkness at the vehicle. The sliver of it that I could see was not yellow, like a cab. It was red, like a regular vehicle.

A door closed.

Jordan passed in front of the headlights.

A duffel bag in one hand.

Yoga pants. Blue workout pullover. Trainers.

Ponytail.

Lie. Lie, lie.

She raised her hand to the lights, and smiled. “Bye. See you tomorrow.”

You couldn't hear that from here, Paddy. You couldn't possibly.

My vision was going red. My heart was kicking at the inside of my chest.

Jordan hopped into the house. The lights swung away, the back end of a car rolled into my field of vision.

Silver.

Lexus?

And then it was gone.

I entered the house in a trance-like state. Maybe fifteen minutes later.

Olivia was upstairs, her music blaring. Jordan was in the master bedroom, taking a shower.

The kids were in their rooms. Max smiled at me and asked me to check out something on his computer. I watched it without seeing it, my mind just replaying and replaying everything I had seen. On auto-pilot, I shot the shit with him, and it was as though I was viewing my son through a lens, or a fog.

He was such a great kid.

All of this was great.

And I had lost it all.

It wasn't fake, like the day I found Olivia fucking a guy upstairs.

This was real.

I said goodnight.

I went into the bedroom. I sat on the bed so that I could see Jordan through the shower doors.

She was turning in the shower. Her stunning body pirouetted like a dancer in a jewelry box, soap sliding down her firm curves in shiny waves. Her eyes were closed.

When she opened the door, she yelped. “Jesus! Paddy. How long have you been there?”

She grabbed a towel and bent over to wrap her long hair in it. “You really scared the shit out of me. You crazy voyeur.”

Her voice, so convincingly joking, cut through me like a knife. She was such a calm, excellent liar. Of course she had no way of knowing I had followed her, or that I knew her shower was not to get the sweat of the gym off of her. But you would think a woman who was sneaking around like Jordan was would have a guilty conscience.

Even if it wasn't what it seemed. Even if it was something else, some reasonable secret (what would that be?)...she was still a liar.

A good, deliberate liar. Duplicitous. Not who I had imagined I was living with.

I didn't know if this thought turned me on, or it was her breasts, bouncing when she lifted her head.

“When'd you get home?” I asked.

“I was just about to ask you that.” She wrapped a towel around herself and turned to the mirror, pressing down on her eye to look at some nearly invisible flaw. “We must have just missed each other. I got here like ten minutes ago.”

She looked at me in the mirror, and for a moment I saw it: she had a little flicker of fear cross her face.

“I'm glad you're here, though,” she said suddenly, rubbing something over her lips in an enticing way.

Playing the sex card.

“Oh yeah?”

I wasn't going to have it.

Jordan let her towel fall down, in a heap on the carpet. Her slightly bubbled ass was still glistening with drops of water. She leaned toward the mirror, examining her face, and her breasts swung beneath her. Her ass turned upward and her bare cunt peeked out from between her legs. “I need some advice about something.”

“What's that,” I said dryly. I was still in a daze. Still turning over all of the things I had seen and perplexed by my reaction, which was not what I expected. I was actually feeling...turned on.

Probably just the fact that Jordan was stroking her chest now, from her neck to the valley between her tits.

She was so
deliberately
changing the subject. So
deliberately
covering up her tracks. Distracting me.

Was she at all worried that I had seen her get out of another man's car?

That I knew she had left in a cab?

“This girl at work,” Jordan said, breaking my reverie, “a contractor, she does all the sexy stuff...she also has an adult...video store. Or like, toys, that kind of thing. And she's always telling me about all this stuff.” Jordan's eyes were on mine, and she was propped up against the counter now, no longer making any effort whatsoever to pretend she was looking at nonexistent blemishes on her perfect face. She knew exactly what she was doing, and that her cunt was peeking out from between her legs, wet and pink. She knew how great her ass looked, and she was moving her hand everywhere near her tits.

And as much as I wanted to tear my eyes away from all of this, and ask her what the hell was going on, where she had been, why she was lying to me, what she was doing in the back of a cab putting on makeup, why she was dressed up like a hooker at a bar downtown...I couldn't do it. She was hypnotizing me.

It was all hypnotizing me.

“And she keeps wanting to pawn all this stuff off on me.”

I felt my pulse begin to race. Images of dildos began to fill my head.

So that was it, Jordan was actually just a dirty slut.

Where was she going with this?

“And so finally, I was just like, okay...I'm not into toys, not really...well, maybe I am and just don't know it. But I took some...you know. Bondage stuff from her.”

I shuddered.

Keep it the fuck together, Paddy.

Jordan turned around, and leaned against the counter. Her body really did look magnificent, after all her workouts.

Workouts, Paddy, she doesn't seem to be going to.

“So you wanted some advice,” I coughed. My eyes were on the crescent of her pelvis, the slit between her legs. The word
bondage.

What in the fuck was going on.

She brought her hand to her lips, and bit into her thumb. It was, in a word, the most cliched, “seductive” gesture she could do. But that didn't stop it from sending another wave of painful lust through my already hard cock.

“Should I try them?”

She grinned.

I heard myself, almost unable to believe I was being such a pussy and giving into this whole seduction act. “I think it would be a shame to waste them,” I said.

She grinned more. Deviously. She pulled her hair from the towel and fluffed it. Wet, her hair turned nearly black. Her mischievous eyes made her look a lot like...Olivia.

And I know why that thought only added to the severe ache in my crotch.

“Should I try it with you?” she asked, the end of her sentence pregnant.

I realized I wanted her to say,
or another lover?

I was already imagining her with her mystery driver, her hands bound behind her, her mouth on his cock, when she continued:

“Or with Frank?”

She was grinning. She was being playful now. “Frank,” the made-up lover. She was trying to divert me from the reality of her treachery.

My head was spinning.

I
did
have proof, didn't I, that she was cheating?

Did I?

She was moving toward me now, swinging her hips a little. Sucking me in. When she stood in front of me, my hands instinctively went behind her, to cup her ass. I pulled her close to me, and inhaled the scent of her stomach. I rubbed my lips over her navel. “I like this soap,” I said.

She slapped me on the head. She laughed. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed. “Your wife tells you she wants you to tie her up, and you tell her you like her
soap?!
”

She turned, and disappeared into the closet. “Here,” she said. “I was trying to run this whole seduction scene with you, but you've ruined it. So. You want to try these out, or what?”

She was swinging a pair of fuzzy handcuffs in the air.

Her face was relaxed. Smiling. She was either
actually
untroubled, because she was not up to anything, or she was the most psychopathic person on earth, and I didn't know her at all.

My chest felt like snakes were writhing inside of it. “For you or for me?” I managed to say.

She brought the cuffs to her lips. “Hmmm...” she said. “I actually hadn't thought about that. It's an interesting idea.”

“What is?”

“Tying
you
up.”

“Is Frank into that?” I said. I meant to sound lighthearted, like this was all part of the game. Instead, my voice sounded accusatory.

“Wouldn't you like to know.”

Was she still teasing? Still smiling? Was this still a joke? It seemed to have taken on a serious edge somehow. 

I don't know what happened. It was like all of the things I had seen and thought about reached some kind of critical mass, sort of the way they had when I was sneaking into the kitchen. I stood up and grabbed the handcuffs and her wrists, twirled her around and tossed her on the bed, all in one rough, fluid motion. She gave a yelp of delight, and her eyes narrowed to their most sexually challenging.

Our bed, naturally, had no place to attach handcuffs, which was too bad. It would have been fun to handcuff her to the bed.

No matter. I straddled Jordan, pinning her to the bed while I tore at the button of my shirt and ripped my undershirt away from my torso.

I flipped her over, and pulled her arms behind her to trap them in the cuffs. I was being rough with her but I was in a fever. I didn't care, and I could feel from the lack of resistance in her arms that it wasn't bothering her. 

I grabbed some of the many useless, decorative pillows piled on the bed, and crammed then underneath her hips, until her ass was tilted up toward me. Her chest was pressed to the bed, and her small wrists crossed at the small of her back. It wasn't the first time we had ever played at this kind of game, but it had been a very long time, and it seemed so much more raw now.

I unfastened my belt and my pants, and dropped them to release my cock. I pushed her legs apart with my knees, one at a time, and gave her a firm squeeze on her buttocks to let her know she should stay put.

“Have you been very bad, Jordan, with Frank?” The words were coming out of my mouth in a strange tone, like I was joking, but also not.

I wasn't really looking for a response, and Jordan sensed that. She lifted her hips a little and I slid my finger along her slit. Her silky juices were flowing, clinging to her inner thighs. I could smell her scent; it was strong now. I brushed my fingertips over her clit and she squirmed. I squeezed her ass with my other hand to warn her to keep still.

I slid a finger inside of her, and I was pleased to find her incredibly wet.    

Since she seemed to be up for this role-play, and I was intoxicated by it, I went for it.

“Is Frank a big guy? Does he have a big cock?” I pushed a second finger inside of her, and she was so slippery with her excitement that it slid in with no resistance. I tried a third, and I could feel her cunt stretch a little.

Jordan gasped.”Bigger than that,” she said.

I added a fourth finger, and pushed deep inside of her as she gasped into the sheets. Her pussy was wet and hot around my whole hand now, and the sight of my hand embedded between her legs, with her ass propped up on the pillows and her hands restrained at the small of her back, drove me even wilder. She whimpered a little as I moved my hand back and forth, but she lifted her ass toward me, wanting more.

“Like that?”

She murmured something, and I could tell by the beads of sweat that were forming on her forehead, and then throb of her pussy around my hand, she very close to coming. I pushed deep inside of her and she moaned. I found her clit with my thumb and stroked it as I fucked her with the rest of my hand, clawing outward at the base of her clit.

“Oh god,” she said, her face pressed into the bed.

I felt her whole body stiffen just before her pussy flooded with her cum. She yelled into the sheets and tried to twist away from me, but I continued to stroke her well past the point of her climax. I knew it was almost too much for her to take, but she was in no position to get away or stop me, and the rush was exhilarating.

I withdrew my hand and watched her bare snatch pulse from gaping to merely distended. I swept some of her cum up to her ass, and rubbed her asshole. She responded by making a high-pitched sound of pleasure.

We didn't normally go here, and I wavered for a moment, wondering if I should move towards my new fantasy, and play with her ass. I was still deciding, my hand on my cock, my finger making a trip from her sopping cunt to her ass, when she shocked me by arching her back and sliding her own fingers down to her buttocks.