Nice and naughty, p.1
Nice and Naughty, page 1
Nice and Naughty
A Wife Sharing Romance
by
Jason Lenov
Copyright 2018 Jason Lenov
Thirteenth Line Publications
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, companies, organizations, products and events in this book, other than those that are clearly in the public domain, are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, companies, organizations, events, or products, is purely coincidental.
All characters depicted in this story are 18 years or older.
Cover characters are models. Image(s) is/are licensed from:
depositphotos.com
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Also by Jason Lenov for Thirteenth Line
Chapter One
Leaning against the bathroom door frame, I watched Audrey tuck a stray tress of her short blond hair behind her ear.
She leaned forward, puckered her lips, then raised the gloss she was holding and spread a thin layer of it across them. Pressing them together, she made a duck-face and admired her handiwork in the mirror. She caught sight of my reflection and shot me a tight smile. “Stop leering,” she muttered, setting the gloss down next to the sink.
“I’m not leering. Just watching you.”
“Yeah?” she mused, turning her head left and right to make sure she’d applied her blush evenly. “Well it’s creepy. Come on. It’s almost time to go.”
I felt a twinge in my gut. It was nearly time to go. We had reservations at Donato’s at seven-thirty. I hadn’t called a cab yet. Partly because I never knew how long it was going to take Audrey to get ready. It had been so long since we’d had an evening out alone.
But partly because, well, I guess I expected something. Or maybe just hoped for it.
Audrey and I had been married for ten years. We had a good life. Two cars. A house in the exurbs that wasn’t too far from the highway. No dog yet, despite the boy’s constant begging.
I was working at my dream job, a financial analyst at a medium sized investment firm. Audrey, finally free of the never-ending, tireless work of rearing two young children, had begun planning the rest of her life. She’d started courses at the local community college to become a paramedic.
It wasn’t what I’d envisioned for her. Call me old-fashioned, but I guess I’d always hoped she’d be content being a stay-at-home, two-glasses-of-wine-for-lunch-with-her-girlfriends kind of mom.
Don’t get me wrong. I was happy she was pursuing her ambitions. There was no surer path to alcoholism than having not enough to do, if my mom was anything to go by. But I wanted to provide for her. I wanted her to be happy living on my more than ample salary, having dinner ready when I got home and listening to stories about my day once the kids went to bed.
Still, it was fine. I guess in my heart of hearts I didn’t really believe she was going to go through with it. She’d always professed a deep dislike for blood and guts and all the other icky things you might see as a first responder. I think I sort of figured she’d get through the first year of her course, maybe year and a half, then realize it wasn’t for her.
It was a little selfish of me but who isn’t a little selfish? Sometimes at night I worried about what it would be like if she changed her mind. What would happen if she got used to the work, came to like it even? It was an unsettling thought.
As much as I loved Audrey and wanted her to be happy, I kind of wanted to keep her to myself if you know what I mean? We didn’t need the money. We certainly didn’t need the added hassle of trying to schedule twenty-four hour shifts into our already busy lives.
But I thought of myself as a good husband. Always supportive, never standing in the way of what she thought she wanted. If I knew Audrey, she’d come to the same conclusion and eventually get tired of the coursework, or if it came to it, the grind and toll a job like that would take. On her and on our family.
Anyways, on this particular night, the second week of December, my parents had just left with our kids, Caleb and Winston. Naming him Winston was Audrey’s idea. Trust me, I never would have gone for it if she hadn’t been a post-partum wreck after having Caleb.
It was the first time the boys, eight and six, had been away from us for more than a weekend. My parents had decided that they’d had enough of buying plastic crap for Christmas. My mom, now a reformed alcoholic, had read somewhere online about the popularity of giving experiences as gifts rather than, you know, actual gifts.
It was another one of those things that rubbed me the wrong way. Like, what the hell? Whatever happened to having a Christmas tree with a bunch of present underneath? Why the hell did everything have to be eco-friendly and trendy?
But whatever. Of course Aubrey had loved the idea. She’d fawned all over my mother for suggesting it. When she heard they were planning on taking the boys skiing for a week she’d had some reservations.
How would they deal with being away from us for so long?
How would my parents deal with having to take care of the kids for such a stretch?
What if Winston missed us and got mopey and they had to come home? Would that ruin the gift?
But as soon as she’d shared her doubts with me, my mind started cooking up all sorts of crazy ideas. A week alone with my wife? Hell yeah! A week easing back into the people we used to be before the boys came along? Double hell yeah.
Audrey and I had a wonderful marriage. She was kind, caring, compassionate. I was what she needed me to be. Authoritative, for one. I took charge. I helped her make decisions because, well, Audrey, like most women, could get a little confused when there were decisions to be made.
No, I’m not a misogynist. I just think there are differences between men and women and I think that sometimes we get too caught up in everyone being equal to notice them.
But in the last few years things had changed between us a bit. There were no longer diapers to deal with. But they’d been replaced by ferrying the kids to school in the morning, shuttling them to hockey and soccer in the evenings. Normally, by the time everyone got home and the kids got to bed we were both exhausted.
So, as these things go, our sex life had suffered a bit. Sometimes a lot. At first I’d let it go. These things come and go in waves, after all.
But after a particularly long dry spell, I think it was almost a month, I started to get a little irate. Every time I made an overture Audrey would give some excuse. Headache, period, tiredness…whatever.
After a few of these I started getting cranky. Resentment started to creep in. I started masturbating to a bunch of porn. I even signed up for one of those have-an-affair websites, though as soon as I’d created my password and logged in I realized how stupid I was being and deleted my account.
The next night I talked to Audrey about how I was feeling. To my surprise, she was incredibly receptive. She felt the same way, that there was distance between us that hadn’t been there before. That we never talked anymore the way we used to. That we never just cuddled.
It wasn’t exactly what I’d wanted to hear. Really I was just looking to get my dick wet. But that’s the thing with marriage, right? It’s all about compromise.
When we went to bed that night, she wore the silk sleep her mother had bought her as a wedding present.
Creepy, I know.
We made love and talked until, like, eleven or something before she fell asleep.
It was good. We reconnected.
Except…not really.
See, back when we’d started seeing each other, Audrey had been pretty inexperienced. She’d had sex with one other guy who’d apparently been terrible in the sack. She barely knew how to have an orgasm.
I’d had about a dozen girlfriends through high school and college. More in my twenties. I lost count somewhere around twenty-five. Let’s just say I’d been with a lot of women.
I really put in the time to awaken Aubrey’s sexuality. Instead of taking her out on dates, I’d take her back to my place, light a bunch of candles, put on some nice music, have a couple of glasses of wine and help her get to know herself.
God, I still fantasize about some of those evenings. She was so sweet and innocent. A ripe fruit ready and eager to be plucked, eyes and mind open and willing to discover the pleasure she could experience in bed.
There was a string of consecutive evenings where we did this that I’ll never forget. We ditched school and work and just hung out in bed for days. I brought Audrey to climax after blushing climax. What stuck with me was the way she let herself go.
She screamed like a banshee when she came, for god’s sake's.
It was amazing.
Then we got jobs. Had kids. Had a little marriage trouble. No big deal. I like to think of myself as a deal-maker not a deal-breaker. All it took was a little more effort on my part and we were right as rain.
We saw a therapist a few times but that was really for Audrey’s benefit. She had a bunch of stuff from her childhood that she needed to work through. I was just there for support. Solid as a rock as always.
So after our little talk about the sex thing, we started making love more regularly. I guess you could say Audrey became
I’d explained to her how important sex was to me and how I couldn’t really get it anywhere else. She could go out with her girlfriends or go see her folks. She always loved talking to people. Her needs could be met that way.
It wasn’t like I could just go and fuck someone to satisfy mine. That wasn’t how marriage worked.
Her empathy really shocked me. Like I said, she became more receptive to making love more often. That was great.
But there was something missing. Something wasn’t the same as it had been before life got in the way. She didn’t scream with me anymore.
And that kind of drove a wedge between us. She probably didn’t notice but I did. I wanted more. I wanted a lover who dug her nails into my back when I fucked her. A woman who begged me to make her climax and who teetered on the brink obediently when I didn’t.
I know that sounds a little controlling. What can I say? You don’t become a successful person by letting life happen at you. You take it by the horns and fucking wrench it in the direction you want it go. Am I right?
I’m right.
I have a word for guys that just go with the flow. Loser. And there’s more than enough of those guys in the world to keep a guy like me winning.
Anyways, enough of all that.
I guess what I’m getting at is that when my parents offered to take the kids, I started concocting a little plan. A little something that would put the spark back into our marriage.
Dinners out, sure. Movies? No problem. Long nights talking on the couch? Absolutely. Audrey loved all that shit.
But what I really wanted, what drove me to buy the boys skis and make sure all the reservations were made right and that my parents had a backup plan in case they hated skiing, was something different.
I wanted to take Audrey back to that place we’d known before life happened. I wanted to romance her again. I wanted to rip her clothes off and make her scream for me again. So she remembered what she’d been missing.
I was going to make her love me again. The way I needed to be loved.
Which is why I did what I did when she walked up to the bathroom door and tried to press past me.
“Hey, hey, what’s the rush?”
Audrey’s shoulders sank. She cocked her head to one side and rolled her eyes and put a hand on my chest. Which meant, come on, Norbert. Quit joking around. We’ve got reservations!
And normally I would have stepped aside, watched her teeter down the stairs to the first floor in her high heels, followed her down, grabbed my jacket and followed her out the door.
Not this time. This time was going to be different.
“Come on, Norbert.”
Classic.
“Come on, what? We’re free, remember?”
“We’ve got reservations.” Audrey was getting impatient.
And I hate to admit it but I liked that. I liked that she was feeling a little uncomfortable, a little rushed, a little…nervous.
I liked being the knight in shinning armour who was going to take over and show her a good time. Women need that. Sometimes.
I put a finger under her chin, raised her eyes to meet mine, then bent over her and kissed her gently on the lips.
At first she stiffened.
And, I have to admit, her reaction got to me. I started think aw, fuck it. Why bother with this? Why not just go out, stuff myself, drink too much wine, then fall asleep and wake up at two in the morning on a rebound?
But that’s not what this week was going to be about. This week was going to be about me. About us. This week was going to be about getting the old Norbert and the old Audrey back together again.
Pushing my tongue into her mouth, I put my hands on her back and let them glide slowly down and settle on her ass. My cock surged to life as she sucked in a breath, drawing the air out of my lungs.
“What are you doing?” she whispered after pulling away from the kiss.
I got so hot at the way her cheeks flushed. Suddenly she was the blushing, innocent girl I’d seduced all those years ago. The Audrey I remembered in the dead on night as she lay gently snoring next to me.
This was going to happen.
I pulled her close again. Leaning closer, I pressed my lips against her neck in a kiss.
The tensions fell away from her shoulders. She let out a breath. “Norbert…” she whispered.
“How about a little aperitif?”
She clicked her tongue and shook her head, looking away. “What about the reservations?”
I had her. I could feel it.
“The reservations can wait. Take your clothes off and get on the bed.”
Moment of truth.
Audrey gazed up at me, her mouth open slightly, eyes widening with excitement.
My breath caught in my throat. It really could have gone either way.
When her eyes narrowed and she shot me a wicked smile, I knew I was in. “Okay mister. But make it quick. I want my dinner this evening.”
“I’ll take as long as I need.”
Yeah. It was kind of a bold move. I was kind of good at that, too.
The smile faded from her lips. For a moment I thought she was slipping away. Then she kicked off her heels, eyes darting down to my chest, then lower to my midriff. “You better make this worth my while,” she whispered.
Tugging at my belt, I reached out and slapped her ass. “You know I will.”
And just like that, it was on.
Chapter Two
My cock was hard by the time I made it to the bedroom.
Seeing Audrey sink back onto the bed, still dressed, her legs pressed together as if she were trying preserve her modesty made my blood boil.
Yanking my stiff prick out of my trousers, I put a hand on her thigh and split her legs apart. I caught a glimpse of the modest pair of white underwear she was wearing underneath her black stockings. The sight made my cock flex.
Now normally at this point –though these points rarely occurred anymore– we would have turned into a fumbling quadropus. Limbs flailing as we tried to remove our clothes, we would have fallen apart, stripping first before we came together.
But that’s not what this week was going to be about. This week was going to be about lust, about the kind of raw fucking we used to engage in.
So, instead of pushing my pants down around my ankles, I reached between Audrey’s legs, grabbed a hold of the sheer fabric of her nylons and yanked. The force of the tug tore a whole in them.
Audrey shrieked. “Norbert!” She gazed down her body, staring between her legs, trying to see the damage I’d done to her new stockings.
I knew I had to take the initiative. Instead of apologizing, like a caring husband would, I pressed a palm against her chest, pinning her to the bed. Peeling her underwear away from her sex, I lowered myself onto her, my cock throbbing with need.
A moment before I lost sight of it, I caught a glimpse of her bushy snatch.
Audrey didn’t shave much anymore. Sometimes she’d surprise me for my birthday by getting a wax. For the most part it was hairy down there.
I don’t know, I kind of liked it. It was a good kind of filthy.
What really got to me was the glint of light that reflected from the slick that was already coating the hair surrounding her peach.
Her pussy was a sloshing mess.
Without wasting a moment, I pressed the tip of my cock against her soft lips. Her wiry hairs tickled my glans. Her juices coated the head.
She was struggling a bit. As if this were all too raunchy for her. Her legs were flailing on either side of my hips. She had a wild look in her eyes.
Just the way I liked her. Hot and ready.
Leaning forward, I pressed my weight against her. My shaft plied open the soft folds of her cunt and slipped into her hot sheath.
Audrey threw her head back and moaned. She moaned, for god’s sake's. I hadn’t heard a sound like that come out of her in years.
I nearly tipped over the edge.
But I had a job to do. Settling down on top of her, I started thrusting, stabbing my hard prick into her tight hole, desecrating her sacred place.
To my absolute shock and delight, her hands crawled up my back. Her fingers curled into claws and dug into my back like I hadn’t felt in…God, I don’t even know how long. Then, as I started fucking her harder, she started fucking me back.
