Castaway Wife, Part 6

[photo: VictoriaAndrea]

I'm sorry for all the teasing and buildup. This part was originally the final set of chapters that I'd planned for this book, but there were just so many other things that I hadn't covered, so many promises unkept, and so many characters left unfulfilled. So I ended up writing a LOT more.

If you haven't read them yet, please read the previous five parts:

• Part 1

• Part 2

• Part 3

• Part 4

• Part 5

14. Alone but Not

Andy lingered outside, wondering what to do next—both in the immediate term, and all the days to follow. He considered going down to his room, but the thought of just sitting there alone in a strange city sounded depressing, and there was still fun to be had up here.

Inside, he noticed that the party had started to thin out. Anyone who brought their children were long gone, but now a greater contingent had left, too.  Those remaining were a fun bunch, though, perfect for people watching.

Chelsea’s friend, Kim, was in a small cluster with single-mom Janice, and the young, personal trainer, Isaiah. Andy couldn’t look at that grouping and not think about the foursome that Chelsea had discovered, with Isaiah in the middle of Brooklyn and Molly Reynolds.

Speaking of the host, she wasn’t there. Neither was the season winner, Jason. Could have been a coincidence, but Jason didn’t seem like the type who turned in early for anything—especially not his own celebration.

Normally, after surveying a crowd like this, Andy would quietly slip away, feeling shy. He resisted that urge and went to the bar instead, ordering a club soda with lime. Time to start sobering up.

Camila, the producer and Chelsea’s show confidante, was in line in front of him, although he didn’t realize it until she turned and looked up at him in her glasses. On the bus, he didn’t get the full picture of her. In line, he had plenty of time to admire her lean, modelesque body, sheathed in a pair of wide-flaring white pants and a strapless top.

“Hey, Andy.” Even her soft accent sounded more sensual. “You’re still here.” She glanced around. “And Chelsea isn’t.”

Andy colored. “No. She… isn’t.”

He wondered how much she knew versus what she just suspected. If anyone knew the truth, though, it was this woman. She asked, “Are you okay?”

“Is this an interview?”

Camila had a delightful laugh. “The cameras are all off, I promise.”

“I’m literally shaking right now.” He held up his hand to demonstrate. “I’m scared shitless. Like, I keep thinking, ‘What the hell am I doing?’ You know?”

“I can imagine.” She put a hand on his arm and guided him away from the bartender’s station. “You don’t have to tell me anything. We can just sit here and gossip about the people around here, if you want. To pass the time.”

That sounded nice to Andy, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to talk to the one person who knew what was going on with Chelsea and him. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. So you know that she’s with Todd right now?”

Those words bubbled up through him like something physical.

“I figured they were, but I didn’t know.”

Andy nodded. He appreciated Chelsea’s discretion, even with Camila. He said, “We talked. I’m not sure you know, but something almost happened between them at Rescue.”

Camila nodded slowly, processing. “I didn’t know that either…”

“But you figured?” he asked, repeating her previous answer.

“Things seemed a little awkward between them on the final morning, but I didn’t want to assume.”

“She confessed. We talked about it. I gave her the green light tonight, if she wanted it.”

Camila released a soft puff of air through her pursed lips. “You’re a cool dude. She’s lucky to have you.”

“Am I crazy?”

Camila laughed. “Maybe a little. But don’t worry. She loves you, amigo. I cannot stress this enough. She talked about you all the time. She worried what you’d think of her when she got home. She worried about how we’d edit her, that she’d be, like, a villain or something.”

“If anything, watching that show with her made me appreciate what I have even more,” I said.
“Oh, and I should thank you.”

“Me?”

“For helping open her eyes to me, I guess. To the whole hotwife fantasy.”

“Well, I didn’t know you had it. I didn’t know you at all. But based on what she was telling me, I had a hunch. Glad I was right. Most guys would freak the F out.”

“I think a part of me is still freaking the F out right now.”

Camila put a hand on Andy’s arm. She had amazing eyes behind those glasses, dark and empathetic. “Anything I can do to help?”

The suggestion was clear. And while that would have been a lot of fun, Andy couldn’t do it. Not without talking to his wife first.

“I’m flattered. Like, really flattered, actually. You’re really… attractive, and—”

“Hey, no worries, man. I get it. Talk to Chelsea. Maybe we can work out some kind of agreement if you stay longer in LA.”

“Stay longer?”

“Todd lives here, and after tonight, knowing him, he won’t be satisfied with just a taste.”

Andy hadn't considered that, and it felt exciting now that he was. He scratched the back of his neck. “So how about that gossip?”

“What do you want to know?”

“Sounded like things were pretty wild at Rescue. That true?”

“You get a bunch of attractive young people together, unable to access anything from the outside for an extended period of time—including porn—and things get interesting, yes. This season’s cast seemed more into it than ever.”

Andy wondered what would have happened if Chelsea had been cast away earlier. Would she have been able to hold off, or would she have been sharing a bed with Todd in those remaining days.

“Just the cast?” he probed.

Camila raised a brow. “Are you asking about my own sex life?”

“I may be curious.”

“Well, I don’t kiss and tell, but there may have been a few that I did kiss…”

“Maybe a hint?”

Kim wandered into their company before she could go on, the redhead glancing between the two of them with a knowing smile. “What’s going on here?”

“Andy wants to know if I’ve ever slept with a contestant.”

“Does he now?” She put a hand around Camila’s waist and rested her head on the other woman’s shoulder. “And what did you tell him?”

“She wouldn’t,” Andy answered.

“Discrete,” Kim said. “A producer is meant to blend into the background.” She turned her head and kissed Camila softly on the neck. “But this one’s too fucking hot to totally blend.”

Camila blushed, looking shyly at Andy. 

“Where’s Chelsea?” Kim asked. 

“Um… she left with Todd,” he said.

“Damn.” Kim’s grin was wide. “Fuck, that’s hot. I take it you’re cool with that?”

Camila studied him as he answered. “Yeah, I’m cool.”

“Let’s invite him back with us,” Kim said to Camila. “I want to feel a dick in me as I lick your pussy. Best of both worlds.”

Camila raised her brows at Andy, who was more tempted than ever. But she knew his answer. “I offered already. He needs to work it out with his wife, first.”

Kim eyed Andy one last time. “Shame. Maybe another day.” She slipped her hand into Camila’s. “Come on, I’m horny as fuck and am done with this place.”

Unlike Todd and Chelsea, the two didn’t leave separately, and anyone who watched them go knew exactly what came next.

At last, Andy decided to call it a night, too. He looked one last time around the room, at the dregs of the evening, people clinging to the last of the party as things got sloppy. What a night. He headed for the elevators.

When he got back to his hotel room, it was just before midnight, and Andy half-expected to find Chelsea waiting for him, like it was all a ruse. He was so prepared for it that when he opened the door to a dark and empty room, a shock passed through him. 

This was totally different than all the nights during filming, when he’d sleep alone in his bed. As he got ready, there were little reminders everywhere about what was happening, about this next exciting adventure.

Looking into the bathroom, Andy could practically feel her soft curves against him in the shower, beneath his soapy hands. He could almost taste the bubbles that clung to her neck as he kissed her there.

Beside the bed, he remembered their final conversation before she’d left to get ready for the show.

“I can’t wait to see what makeup and wardrobe does to you.”

“Always trying to doll me up.”

“You don’t need any of it, and you know it. You attracted Todd in rags and dirt on your face.”

“You’re going to love my dress. It’s short and tight.”

“And Todd?”

“I know he’ll love it.”

Andy finished brushing his teeth and washing his face. He thought of what he’d said to in the shower, after he’d worked her right up to the edge of orgasm. “You don’t get to come yet,” he’d said. “The next time you come, you’ll be with Todd.”

Out of the bathroom and looking at the bed, he realized just how tired he was. He was jetlagged, and despite switching to club soda, the drinks had finally caught up with him.

He still hadn’t heard from Chelsea, but wasn’t expecting it. He’d read about husbands in these positions many times, and now he got to feel what they felt. He was restless. He was helpless. He was electrified.

But he didn’t panic. He didn’t text her, didn’t call her, didn’t worry. He knew where she was and who she was with. She was safe, and when it was over, she’d be home.

It was surprisingly easy to fall asleep.

15. The Wait

Andy slept in fits and starts, swimming out of torrid dreams of sex and heartache. He didn’t check the clock. He didn’t check his phone. He just rolled over and tried to get back to sleep. She’d come back when she was done.

Only when he woke in the morning, she was still not there. It was still early, but the sun was leaking in around the blackout curtains. Andy’s heart dropped as he felt the cold space and undisturbed sheets on her side. So maybe it was Castaway filming all over again. Maybe he’d made a grave mistake.

He checked his phone, finally seeing a string of missed texts. Shit. The texts started at 5:15 am.

OMG, I fell asleep! I’m so sorry!

I hope you’re sleeping. It’s so late. Or so early. Or whatever.

I love you so much, Andy. You are an amazing man, and I am so lucky. And I cannot wait to tell you all about last night. I’ll talk to you when you wake up. Right now, I’m going to wake Todd up with a blowjob. The man is a fuck-machine.

Hours later, around 6:30, the texts started again.

Good morning! Hope you get up soon. Could you bring me a change of clothes to room 1925? Don’t really want to do the walk of shame through this hotel.

Don’t worry, Todd’s down at the gym for now.

That was about an hour ago. I started to type out a response as a new text slid into view.

Actually, he’s back now. Text me or call when you’re up.

It was actually happening. Right now. Andy squeezed the phone as if squeezing air out of his lungs. Then he snapped out of it and his thumbs went back to work.

[Andy]: Take your time.

To his surprise, he saw the jumping dots as she worked out a response.

[Chelsea]: You’re awake!

[Andy]: Just got up. Didn’t sleep all that well.

[Chelsea]: Same, but for other reasons.

This was followed by a winky face.

[Andy]: You have fun?

The dots bounced, then stopped, then bounced again. He waited for an essay. Instead, he got a simple, “Yes.”

They’d talk about it later. Those dots were no longer bouncing, but his wife probably was. That didn’t mean that he was going to just sit in his room, though. He was over that, and now he had a room number.

He took a quick shower to wash away some of the exhaustion of his restless night, threw on some clothes, and filled a small bag with a change of clothing for Chelsea. Fifteen minutes had passed. He wondered if they were still going at it. Without dwelling on it much more than that, he headed for the 19th floor.

Room 1925 was at the very end of the hallway, and as he walked down the hall, it seemed to grow longer and longer, like a nightmare. His blood pressure rose. His pulse throbbed between his ears. His cock was so hard.

He could hear them when he was a full room’s length away. Chelsea’s cries of ecstasy and another, deeper man’s groans. “Oh! Oh! Harder!”

Andy stumbled. As muffled as that was, there was no questioning it. That was his wife in there, begging to be fucked harder.

“Fuck, you feel good!” Todd’s voice now. “So fuckin’ good!”

Andy drew closer. His grip loosened on the bag of clothing. He slowed with each stop.

“Ngh! God, you feel so big.”

Andy gasped.

“You can’t get enough of it, can you?”

In response, Chelsea’s moans crested in a messy, guttural orgasm. Andy was right at the door now, his ear against the wood, listening to the moans, the heavy breathing, the creak of a bed squeaking under their vigorous sex.

But he couldn’t be there for long. It was morning. People were starting to come and go. Directly across from the room was a small alcove that housed the ice machine. He ducked into there, hoping that no one needed to use it.

The sex sounds died down. With his back to the wall, Andy fought to calm his breathing, too. He pulled out his phone, distracted himself there. It didn’t take long before Chelsea’s text arrived.

Okay, come in five please.

A second later, the door across the hall opened. Todd was humming to himself as he left. Andy peeked around the corner, watching the man stroll down the endless hallway like he was the man of the hour. After what he’d just heard, Andy understood why.

As soon as Todd was out of sight, Andy was knocking at the door. When Chelsea didn’t immediately open it, he sent her a text, telling her that he was there.

She opened the door a second later, the sheets pulled up around her body, her shoulders bare. Despite having a long night of fucking, she looked good. Her hair was a little mussed, but when she ran her fingers through it, it still looked as dark and glossy as ever.

“That was quick,” she said, glancing down the hall. “Did you pass…?”

“No, I came early. I was…” Andy thrust his thumb over his shoulder, and she followed it to the ice machine alcove. “I… heard.”

Chelsea colored. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize. I liked it.” He stepped inside, right up to her. She smelled like sex. “I really liked it.”

He shut the door behind him and pulled her into his arms, kissing her hard. She tasted astringent—his come. He was tasting Todd’s come.

When they broke the kiss, Chelsea pursed her lips, looking bashful. She knew what he’d just tasted. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you…”

“It’s okay.” He wasn’t going to admit that even that was exciting in its own way. Instead, he looked past her, at the wreck of a room.

Chelsea was wearing most of the sheets off the bed. What remained was tossed all over the place, as were their clothes. The bedspread itself had a few damp spots from where they’d just fucked, and everything smelled of sex.

“This is quite a scene, Chels.”

She glanced over her shoulder. An empty platter of food was balanced on the dresser. One high heel lay beside it. The other was on the other side of the room. Condom wrappers seemed to be everywhere.

“I feel bad for housekeeping,” she said.

“But not for me?”

She turned to look at Andy, studying him. “I don’t think so, no. This room will haunt you for a while, but in a good way.” She took the bag from him. “Thanks for bringing me my clothes.”

With that, she dropped the sheets around her. Naked, she was somehow both the same as yesterday morning, and entirely transformed. Her nipples looked swollen. Her skin was more flushed. Her pussy puffier. But it was the way she carried the nudity that felt completely new—although maybe that had been growing since the show.

She stepped into the clean thong that he’d brought for her, and when she did, she turned to show off her ass. Her cheeks were red, and there was a clear handprint on one. Her tight jeans quickly took the view away, but it would be forever burned into Andy’s retina.

He went to her as she pulled on her bra and hugged her from behind. “You’re so sexy, Chelsea.”

“Thanks. I feel… trashy, honestly.” She pulled her shirt on.

“You are the most precious thing I have ever held.”

“Aw.” She turned and kissed him quickly. Then she went around the room, gathering her strewn things. “We’ll see how you feel after I tell you what I did.”

“So tell me.”

“Not here.” She looked around at the ruins of the room before linking arms with Andy and guiding him out into the hallway. “For story time, we need to do that in our own space.”

“Okay.”

“But first, I really need you to fuck me.”

Andy looked at her as they picked up their pace down the hall. “Really? You’re not, like, too sore?”

“Oh, I’m sore. But I don’t care.” They arrived at the elevators. She thumbed the down button. “I need you to make us… us again. Okay?”

“I have been holding back since last week,”  he said. “You have no idea how badly I want you.”

“Poor baby. Let me make it all up to you.”

By the time they arrived at their room, they were giggling and running down the hall, holding hands and ready for the next big thing.

16. Last Night

“Andy! Yes! Uhh! Yes!”

Andy was on top of her, holding her thighs against his body, pressing his chest to hers. He needed to feel the skin-on-skin contact. He needed to feel as much of his wife as possible as they reconnected.

She felt different, though. Looser. More supple. Like an athlete after a hard workout and a long stretch. But when she moaned, when she gasped, all of that was for him.

They hadn’t spoken about last night. Not yet. That story time was yet to come, but there was no doubt—Chelsea was a confirmed hotwife, and he was experiencing his first reclaim. He was gentle with her, making love, gently rolling his hips along her body, savoring the reconnection. It’s what they both needed. It was all Chelsea could take.

“You feel so good, Andy,” she sighed. She ran her hands over his back, up the nape of his neck and into his hair. She squeezed him tightly, pulling him down to her, like she wanted him all the way inside. “Mmm, baby, yes… yes…”

He flattened his body to hers, kissing her neck and the soft cheek. He ran his hands down her sides and up her legs. He thrust faster, his shallow breaths telegraphing his state.

“Come, Andy. Give me your come.”

He took her just a little faster. His balls were so full. He’d been in denial for too long.

“I’ll always be here for you, Chelsea.”

“Uhhhn… I know…” She squeezed him harder, pulling his head against her shoulder, until they were cheek-to-cheek, as close as they could get. “Now come, baby. I need to feel—OHH!”

Andy was there, falling through the last membrane of willpower. Chelsea had fucked another man. Chelsea had spent the entire night fucking another man. She’d fucked him that morning. She was probably thinking about fucking him again.

Yet she was back in Andy’s arms. She was asking for him. She wasn’t going to leave him or discard him or see him as some lesser man. She was there, beneath him yet somehow in control, and she was asking for his come.

So he gave it.

“Oh, Chels!”

“Andy! Yes!”

And Chelsea was right there with him, flying high on the reclamation, soaring into a whole new hotwife world.

***

After, they got cleaned up. They took a shower together, soaping each other up, kissing, but refraining from more. And refraining from talking about last night until they were both back in bed. Neither of them bothered with clothes, though, preferring to feel their skin on each other.

Side-by-side, legs entwined, with Chelsea softly brushing her fingers through Andy’s hair, she began.

“I promised I’d tell you everything, but… you really want to hear everything?”

Andy had been hard since the shower. He stiffened once again at the question. “Everything. Yes.”

She nodded. “I thought so.” She kissed his forehead. “It’s the least I can do after last night.”

“Intense?”

She nodded.

Andy said, “But intense in a good way.” When she hesitated to answer, he encouraged her with a nod. “It’s okay. I want to hear it. The whole, unvarnished truth.”

“It was one of the craziest, most intense nights of my life.” Her eyes were wide as saucers. “I’m sorry, Andy.”

“It’s okay. Really.”

“Not just because of Todd. I mean, he was… good.”

“In bed,” Andy clarified.

“Yes. He was good in bed. And on the desk, and in the shower, and on the sink—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” The two laughed.

“But it was also intense because it wasn’t you. There was this… wrongness to everything. From even before I got to his room. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this,’ I kept thinking. Yet…”

“Yet you wanted to.”

Chelsea’s face burned. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m s—”

“Don’t apologize, honey. I get it. It turns me on, too.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “I almost didn’t go. I almost came to my senses…”

***

Twice, Chelsea almost turned around. Twice, she actually got off the elevator before it reached Todd’s floor. She stepped out, feeling overheated and hyperventilating, twisting his keycard again and again in her hands.

It didn’t help that the elevator doors in each lobby were mirrored, reflecting back a woman that she barely recognized. She resisted the urge to tug at the short hem on her pink dress, knowing that all it would do was expose more cleavage.

But when they’d selected the dress for her, the first thing that she’d thought wasn’t how short it was, or how it looked painted on. It wasn’t even about how much her husband would love it. Her very first, very guilty thought, was how Todd would like it. She carried that thought now, along with all that guilt.

“I’m okay if you want to go…” Andy had said, and she felt so ashamed that she did want to go. She shouldn’t want anyone other than her husband. His answer was to a question that she shouldn’t even be having.

But she did want it. And Andy did, too. Camila had been right, he had the fantasy. Maybe deep down, Chelsea knew it, too. She always figured he was just being jealous, and that made her guarded around other men. But Andy wasn’t the possessive type. It’s what she loved so much about him.

She squeezed the hotel keycard so hard it left an impression in the palm of her hand, then thumbed the elevator button again. Fuck it, all parties knew she wasn’t going to turn around. She was just delaying the inevitable.

Arriving at the door, she wasn’t sure what the etiquette was. Knock? She had a key. Just go in? She startled when someone down the hall emerged wearing nothing but a hotel robe. He waved at her, and her face bloomed bright red. She swiped the card along the door pad, heard the lock disengage, and rushed inside before she had to deal with the guy.

“You came.” Todd was lounging on the bed, reading something on his phone. It was so domestic that Chelsea nearly laughed.

“Looking at porn?” she teased.

“Better. I’m watching myself on the Live Reunion Show.”

God, he had such a good, boyish grin. It wasn’t fair for him to be so handsome and so arrogant all at once. He tossed his phone down and nearly hopped off the bed, his eyes traveling nakedly over her body.

“You are so fuckin’ hot, Chels. Jesus.”

This man sure knew how to make her blush. He also helped her out of her shell. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

She swept her eyes along his body. He still wore the outfit that the studio had chosen for him—a patterned shirt that hung untucked over slim-cut jeans and a pair of boots. 

Todd didn’t shy away from her appraisal. He didn’t blush. Instead, he moved closer to her, and she to him, his hands out before him, palms up. When they were close, he collected her into his arms and pulled her against him.

They’d hugged before, plenty of times—after winning immunity on the show, waking up in the morning after a hard night, surviving a grueling vote and not getting cast away. But this hug was different. This hug was hungry.

“I like the scruff.” She touched his face, enjoying the scratch beneath her fingers. It reminded her of the beach. It reminded her of their beginning.

She stared into his eyes—deep blue eyes, like the Caribbean ocean. Then she shifted her focus to his lips. He didn’t need any further invitation. He leaned in and like that, they were kissing.

Chelsea felt herself swoon into the kiss, like her feet were floating an inch off the ground. His mouth was so different from Andy’s. The way he kissed her was so much more demanding, and in that demand, she found herself wanting to yield.

They made out like teens, growing more frantic, more desperate. Todd pressed her against the wall, kissing down her jawline and the nape of her neck. His hands groped, cupping her tits. Her nipples hardened at his touch. Her pussy grew so wet.

She pushed her hands beneath his shirt, needing to feel his skin, needing to trace his muscles. God, his abs. It felt like he had a million of them.

Todd yanked his shirt off, giving her free access. She took a moment to stare, to admire. The tattoos that she’d gotten so used to on the show were new all over again, the kind of beautiful inked artwork that she’d never appreciated until she saw it etched on this man. His chest was still smooth, like a swimmer’s build—if that swimmer was also a punk rocker.

“I like it when you look at me like a slab of meat,” he said.

She kissed him hard, her need for him starting to boil over. She maneuvered him around until he was the one against the wall. Her stomach fluttered as she considered what she was about to do. Then she did it, sinking down to her knees. 

She worked open his pants, her nails a glossy pale pink to match her dress. How different that was from those days when she had dirt perpetually beneath them. Todd, too, had clean, powerful hands—hands that unzipped his fly, thumbs that hooked into his trousers as he pushed them down his hips.

He wore tight, black boxer-briefs that stretched around his thick cock and even thicker thighs. She ran her hands over those thighs, feeling the power in them. Whenever she looked back on this moment, her first time with another man, she’d think of Todd’s muscular thighs. Andy was fit, but this man took things to the next level.

Looking up, Chelsea met Todd’s eyes so far above her, watching her, both expectant and excited. She gave her most saucy smile before grasping his underwear and pulling down.

His dick sprang free, just as huge and hard as she remembered. She’d been dreaming about this dick since that night, imagining getting back to that moment, wondering what it would feel like in her hands again, in her mouth.

He was as nicely manscaped as she remembered, too, completely bare, right down to the root. She ran her hands over his shaft, squeezing the supple skin, cupping his heavy balls. “Your balls are so full,” she groaned, almost to herself.

“I’ve been saving myself for you.”

“Then let’s not keep you waiting any longer.” With the flick of her hair, she kept her gaze locked with his as she leaned in and wrapped her lips around his forbidden dick.

Again, she felt guilty for comparing Todd to Andy, but couldn’t help it. Todd felt so much bigger in her mouth, his girth filling her as she sucked down, her cheeks squeezing around the cockhead.

She watched his eyes soften as she swirled that dick with her tongue, then swallowed half of the shaft. It felt good to weaken a man like Todd. She may be on her knees, but she was the one in control, setting the pace.

Chelsea didn’t have much experience with blowjobs before Andy, and Todd was too big to take all the way. She used her hands to stroke what she couldn’t swallow, rubbing his spit into the shaft and caressing his balls. She lost herself in that dick, closing her eyes as she pulled off and licked down the outside. He was so soft. So smooth. Yet underneath it all, such a fucking man. She sucked his balls into her mouth, feeling his knees buckle before he caught himself against the wall, hearing him grunt and curse.

“Damn, girl, that looks so good.”

Looks. Not feels. For Todd, it was a show. Andy got like this too, although he never said anything. She fixed her eyes back on him as she wrapped her hand around his dick and started sucking on him again, turning her head so he could see the impression of his cock bulge out the side of her cheek. She swallowed him deeper than ever, relaxing her throat to take the tip.

“Ngh!” she choked, pulling back as she gagged. Even that was sexy for Todd. When she tried again, he widened his stance and tipped her head back against the wall. His breathing grew shallow. He started to pump his hips into her. 

He was close.

And she wanted his come.

“Fuck, Chels…”

She watched this sexy, ripped stud start to lose himself above her. She redoubled her efforts, jacking with her right hand, bobbing her head, swirling her tongue, preparing to receive.

Chelsea watched his body seize up, his abs and pecs flex. He rolled his shoulders back, clenched his teeth, and erupted in her mouth. She was ready for it, closing her lips around him as she swallowed this other man’s come.

When he was done, she sat back on her heels and smiled up at him, wiping a dollop of semen from her lips like she’d just had a delicious meal. It wasn’t, but men like to think that’s what they’re offering.

“That was…” Todd laughed gruffly. “Fuck, that was hot.”

He reached down, wrapped his hand around his dick, and started stroking it back to life. It obeyed. “But I’m ready for more, and you’re still in that dress. Damn.”

She rose to her feet, rubbing her hand over his balls, over his washboard stomach, over his pecs. She loved tall men. She loved muscles. She couldn’t wait to feel this man take her.

And then they were kissing again. He unzipped her dress on their way to the bed, and together they peeled the tight thing off. Her strapless bra matched, the same pale pink as her dress. That, too, hit the floor before they reached the bed, leaving her in nothing but her high heels and pink thong.

“Damn, you’re so hot, Chels,” Todd said between kisses. His hands were all over her body, callused and hard, a working man’s touch. She loved it, reveling in how new this all felt. She was stroking him again, getting him nice and hard. Getting him ready to fuck her. “Can’t take much more teasing, babe.”

Chelsea was ready for it. She reached for her purse and removed one of the condoms that Andy had slipped in there for her. That was the moment when she knew Andy was for real. He’d purchased the extra large Trojans. This wasn’t a game anymore.

“No more teasing,” Chelsea agreed, tearing the condom wrapper open with her teeth. “No more foreplay.” She rolled it down his dick. “Time for fucking.”

She pulled her thong off, taking a moment to rub her pussy. She was now used to her bald eagle look, but again understood how important presentation was. Todd feasted on her sex as she rubbed her fingers along her bare folds. She mounted him, replacing her fingers with his cockhead.

“Uhhn, you’re so hard,” she moaned.

The way Todd checked her out—her naked body rising above him—filled her with adrenaline and lust. She lined his dick up with her pussy, shifted her hips forward, and let him open her up.

It was everything she’d been dreaming. It was the harmonic note in a chord that had begun five months ago. He was just as big as she remembered. He filled her every bit, and then so much more.

“Ohhh!” she moaned. This wasn’t just a taste. This wasn’t just the very tip. This was all of him, all eight-plus inches of this new man, sinking all, the, way. “OH YES!”

Pleasure rippled through her. Was that an orgasm? Did she just come? If so, it was only the beginning. Shuddering down on him, she braced her hands on his chest, took a deep breath, and got to fucking work.

“Uh! Uh! Uh!” she grunted as she bounced on his dick. He held her hips, guiding her into a galloping rhythm, accentuating each downthrust. Together, she felt his entire length with each undulation, all the way up to the head of that beautiful dick, all the way down until their pelvic bones rubbed in wet, slippery friction. “Oh, fuck! Oh, yes!”

“Yes, Chels! Fuck me! Fuck my dick!”

“It’s so good!” she moaned right back. “It feels so… fucking huge!”

“Ride it. Ride it, Baby!”

She dug her nails into his shoulders, squeezed her thighs around his hips, and came in a throaty scream.

17. The Next Day

“And that was just the very beginning.”

“That’s so… wow, Chelsea.” She’d been gently stroking his cock as they lay there, side-by-side, but he needed more. He was going crazy. “So you liked his size?”

“I did, yes.” The apologies were gone. “I liked it because it was so different.”

“How many times?”

“Did I come?” she asked. “Honestly, I have no idea. I definitely lost count.”

“Okay, what about Todd?”

She paused to do some mental math. “Only three times, actually. No, four. After my initial blowjob, he didn’t come for a long time. He just… fucked.” She giggled. “He was like a machine. A sex machine. We tried so many positions—him on top, me on top again, but facing away. Doggy. Up against the wall—maybe my favorite.”

“The wall?”

“The shower wall, in that situation. That happened this morning. I woke him up with another blowjob—I gave him so many blowjobs.” Chelsea knew exactly what to say to drive Andy nuts. “Then we went into the shower to get ready for the day. He held me against the wall. I felt so weightless like that, no fear that he’d drop me, and he’d just bounce me on his cock, using my weight. It felt sooo deep, Andy.”

“Did it hurt?”

“A little, but…” She nibbled on her lip.

“But amazing,” he answered for her.

“Amazing, yes.”

“Wait, did he bring a condom into the shower?”

Chelsea went red. “No, that was… I’m sorry. No. But he didn’t come inside me. And he gets tested regularly, and was clean. And we were… we were careful…”

Andy’s heart was racing. “That’s so…”

“Wrong, I know,” Chelsea said. “I’m sorry.”

Wrong, yes. But also… “I was going to say it was so hot,” Andy admitted. “Next time, as long as you know he’s clean, and you’re okay with it, you don’t have to worry about the condoms.”

Was he really saying this? They both wondered. It was now out there, though, and Andy wasn’t taking it back.

“Next time?” Chelsea asked. He heard the tinge of hope in her question. She wanted more, but seemed too afraid to ask.

“It’s only Thursday,” Andy said. “We don’t leave until Saturday, and I believe that he lives here…”

“He does.” She looked furtive.

“What?”

“He kind of already… asked to see me again… if… if that’s okay.” Despite the wild confession, she was so adorably bashful.

“And what did you tell him?” Andy asked.

“That I needed to check with you.”

She really was amazing. “You want to see him again.”

“I’m…” She caught herself before she apologized again. “Yes.”

“I want that, too,” Andy admitted. “I want to hear more stories. I want to… maybe…”

“Watch?” She helped him out.

“If that wouldn’t be too weird.”

Chelsea snorted. “I’ve spent almost the last six months in some state of being watched, Andy. Maybe I’m becoming an exhibitionist.”

“From shy librarian to sexual exhibitionist. Not something I expected,” he said. “So you were in the shower, bouncing up and down on his dick…”

Her nervousness seemed to fall away, now that the subject turned back to something more graphic. Andy considered that—how much she’d changed, how it was easier to consider her physical transgressions than talk of anything more personal or emotional.

Chelsea went back jerking him, her grip growing more firm on his dick. “The shower was actually the third time that he came. After driving me wild, he pulled out of me. We made out as I jerked him off, but I knew what he really wanted. We stepped out from under the spray. I got on my knees and blew him as I soaped up my tits.”

Andy was staring at her, heart racing, mind trying to catch up to all these revelations. “You… you tit-fucked him?” They’d never done that before, although Andy had always dreamed about doing it. He just never had the guts to ask.

“Todd told me earlier how he’d had a dream about doing it, so… yes. I sat up on my knees, wrapped my soapy tits around him, and let him fuck them until he came all over me.”

“Holy shit, Chels. That’s wild.”

“So wild,” she agreed. “With Todd, it was like I was this other woman. Some slut. Only… I wasn’t doing it for him. I, sort of, wanted to be slutty.”

“Just for him?”

She shook her head. “No, not just for him. For you. For me. For us. It’s not something that I want to be all the time, but this whole thing has taught me that it can be fun to be… I don’t know… like, naughty? From time-to-time?”

“Definitely.” They kissed again. “My naughty hotwife.”

“So you’re really okay?” she asked.

“When I heard you two through the door, and heard how into the sex you were…” God, you feel so big! “How much you liked his big cock…” She didn’t immediately apologize. Good, they were past that. “It was the most intense thing I think I’ve ever felt, and honestly? It hurt, but also, I cannot wait to hear that again.”

“I’m sorry it hurt.”

“I’m not. I think we’d have a real problem if it didn’t. Or if you didn’t feel as guilty as you do.”

She nodded. “That’s true.”

“But also, you don’t have to feel guilty.”

“And you don’t have to feel hurt.” She stroked him more deliberately before sinking down beneath the sheets. “I definitely need to let the kitty recover, but let me take care of this.”

Maybe it was the long night, or the long week, or how much had changed since she’d gone off to Castaway, but it was the best blowjob he’d ever experienced. Chelsea watched him, pushing her hair from her face and fixing him with those large, dark eyes—eyes that the world had fallen in love with. Eyes that Todd had been seduced by. Eyes that were now completely wide open.

Jason may have been the official winner of Season 25 for Castaway, but Chelsea and Andy were feeling pretty good about it, too.

End of part 5

The winner may have been crowned and Chelsea now be an official hotwife, but there's a lot more to the story to be told. Let me know what you think in the comments, though, and whether I should publish the book here, or include the rest of it. 

Part 6 will release Friday, May 17.