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Burning Desire Pt. 04

Story Info
White wife falls in love with boyfriend.
4.8k words
4.15
71k
101
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Part 4 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 10/29/2015
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WARNING!! This story involves a "hotwife" having sex with a man, other than her husband, without any revenge or consequence. DO NOT CONTINUE if this offends or upsets you.

I love hearing feedback; however, any negative, non-constructive, and insulting comments will be removed. I did not use an editor but I did my best at proofreading before posting. With that being said, there will be plenty of glaring mistakes. I apologize and I hope it doesn't distract you from the story.

*****

I arrived home the next evening from my business trip and found my beautiful Irene sitting on the couch in the living room. I immediately noticed she had a glow about her. An aura of confidence that illuminated from her. Perhaps it was all in my mind but I couldn't be for sure. No one would have believed that just the night before she had slept with another man. Just the night before my conservative wife performed acts that she wouldn't even do with me. I noticed her elegant white smile and I remembered how in the past I had always picked on her for it; telling her she could be in a Colgate commercial. However, I was very proud of her perfect hygiene; always neat and clean. If cleanliness was next to godliness then my wife was an angel.

"An angel with a secret," I thought while displaying a devilish smile.

My reflection would be short. I immediately began thinking of her bent over the very couch she sat on. Her screaming in ecstasy; begging her black lover to not stop fucking her. I must have been completely phased out because the next thing I realized was my wife standing in front of me while giving me a loving kiss.

"Welcome home, honey. I've missed you so much." She said still smiling.

I just returned the smile in an effort to act normal. "I've missed you too." I replied.

Since meeting Dwayne we have been in similar situations and yet I still couldn't help but feel awkward around Irene the day after their dates. Not that I didn't approve of her behavior, hell I wanted it, but I just didn't know how to act. What was the correct way to bring it up? Do I casually ignore it, and let her initiate the conversation, or just bring it up right out of the gate? I honestly would have preferred the latter. Not because I wanted to get it over with or something. I'm just anxious to hear the story from her in person and not over the phone like I had the night before. I wanted to hear her voice, her tone; I wanted to see her facial expression as she reminisced over the details. It would have been the closest thing to actually seeing it with my own eyes. Instead, I was left with a type of empty feeling and an overwhelming awkwardness. I could only wait and hope she would bring it up.

We hugged and kissed some more. I carried the rest of my luggage inside as she started to work on dinner. I found myself constantly daydreaming about her date, which resulted in my arousal. I had to fight back the urge to just barge into the kitchen and demand her to tell me everything. The whole day seemed surreal until I eventually broke free of my trance and began to regain my normal composure. I busied myself with miscellaneous tasks until dinner was finished.

We set down to a good meal and glass of wine. We proceeded with the usual small talk. She asked me about my trip and I about her weekend. I was completely uninterested in my trip and merely spouted out the formalities.

"Come on babe! Tell me about that wonderful fucking you got yesterday!" I screamed inside my mind. While my outside displayed a calm and silent composure.

I began to wonder if she was intentionally prolonging my agony. She started at the very beginning of the weekend and slowly went over everything except her date and the Old Man.

"I guess that covers my weekend," she said then proceeded to stare down at her plate while playing with her food like a child.

"That isn't everything," I responded. "You are leaving out a big part."

"I know... but I've already told you about that. In fact, a little too much." She replied.

"I want to hear it again. It's fun to hear you talk about it. And what makes you think you've said too much?" I asked her.

"I barely remember everything I told you but what I do remember makes me sound like a total slut." She said disappointed.

"After all this and you still are holding back?" I spouted out.

She looked at me, almost angrily at first, then she accepted the situation and merely asked, "What you want to know honey?"

"When do you want to see him again?" I asked.

"I've got a date with him this weekend." She replied.

I was shocked, not only from the fact she herself called it a date but that it was already confirmed without my pushing. After she told me they were going to the movies. I immediately reflected on how that was an actual date, not just some pre-sex romp. I was very intrigued and almost without saying, excited.

"That's an actual date." I stated.

"Well, he is my boyfriend. You think it's going to be sex all the time?" She said nonchalantly. "But don't worry, there will still be plenty of after sex," she continued with a big playful smile.

"Your boyfriend... I like that." I told her while nodding in agreement.

"I figured you would..." she replied.

We discussed her previous dates and the upcoming weekend. I asked questions and she gave the best answer she could but rarely to my complete satisfaction. Eventually we was finished with dinner and after cleaning up we went our separate ways. That night we would make slow love. I was pleasantly surprised when all of a sudden while on she was on top, she started teasing me by talking about her the Old Man.

"Dwayne is so great at sex," she told me with her eyes closed, clearly thinking of him.

"Better than me?" I asked. I could tell she didn't like the question. She did not want to get put on the spot and probably didn't know how to reply. I imagined she was debating on telling the truth or a lie.

After a brief hesitation she replied, "You are a great lover."

"That is not what I asked," I replied, sensing some anger from her.

Eventually she replied with a simple, "Yes."

But I wasn't going to settle for that meager little answer and persistent with my question.

"Yes, what?" I asked, watching her already closed eyes press harder down.

"Yes, he is a better at sex! A lot better..." She furiously answered, trying to satisfy my question.

The last part particularly stung me with jealousy but it was exactly what I wanted. I immediately started to cum, a little early for Irene because she started to protest but it was too late. I was finished and she was left wanting. At first I felt guilty; however, I eventually got a wicked thought. I was going to make sure Irene didn't get any sexual satisfaction until her date. To make it even worse, I was going to do everything I could to keep her on edge. I almost got hard again thinking about her completely horny for her date.

The week dragged by and I kept to my plan. Everyday I would find something new to turn Irene on. I sent her pictures and GIFS of interracial couples fucking. I would giver her sensual massages and foreplay, only to turn down her advances. Every now and then I would walk into the room and reach into her pants to play with her pussy. At first she would resist, telling me it was inappropriate, but later in the week she was extremely horny and wouldn't protest at all. Eventually welcoming the temporary relief, only for me to stop and leave her hornier than before. I noticed she would change her panties during the day, telling me she was really "sweaty" but I knew it was from her arousal soaking them.

When Friday arrived, Irene was ecstatic to see him. I opened the door and was the first to greet the Old Man. Eventually, however, Irene came running past me into his arms. They met with an open mouth kiss, which lasted several seconds. Before I knew it they were off on their date. To my disappointment Irene would go to his apartment later that night and have sex with him there. She told me later that she didn't feel comfortable having sex in front of me. Of course, she would always tell me about the entire experience, eventually she got good at describing all the dirty details.

Part II

Months went by and Irene continued seeing the Old Man. I noticed their relationship began to get really serious. She would text him throughout the day and almost every night they would call each other. I could hear her laughter as they talked and would see her face light up whenever they were together. Instead of the occasional Friday or Saturday night get together, the entire weekends started to be reserved for just their dates, with me getting an occasional Sunday with Irene.

I also noticed other changes occurring, such as Irene dressing more provocative. One of my oddly favorite physical changes was Irene's pussy started to really stretch out. It wasn't a disgusting mess or something, on the outside it looked the same. But whenever I would make love to her, which happened a lot more frequently, I would notice her looseness. Her pussy was literally being refitted for the Old Man's monstrous cock.

One night before we went to a sleep, I was laying in the bed reading. Irene came walking into the room after her nightly phone call with Dwayne. She seemed sad, almost on the verge of tears.

"Babe, what's the matter?" I asked; fearing the worse.

"Honey, we need to talk about something," she replied.

She lied down beside me and stared into my eyes. My mind was racing and I didn't know what to expect. I just held my breath and waited for her to continue.

She spoke softly, "I don't want to lose you but I've learned to be honest. That is what you want, isn't it?"

"Of course, babe." I said calmly. Except, I wasn't calm.

There was a moment of silence as she tried to get the courage to say what was on her mind. Several times her mouth opened as if she was going to speak, only to shut it again. Eventually she spouted out what had bothered her.

"I love Dwayne!" She shouted, not able to control her tone from her nervousness.

My Irene was an emotional person and I always knew she would fall in love with him; though I was little surprised at how quick. As a mean joke I decided to pretend to very angry. I just stared into her eyes and didn't say a word. I tried giving her the meanness face as possible, while holding it for as long as I could until I noticed her eye beginning to water as if she was about to cry. It was then I stopped my big charade and busted out laughing.

"Is that what you was worked up about?" I asked, still laughing slightly.

To say Irene was confused would be an understatement. I would look at her cute expression on her face and start laughing again. Eventually this annoyed Irene and she punched my shoulder.

"I'm serious!" She shouted.

"I know... Babe, you can't get enough of the Old Man... Dwayne, I mean. You talk to him daily and go on dates about every weekend. I expected you would fall in love with him." I told her.

"Aren't you worried?" She asked.

"Are you saying you don't love me anymore?" I asked, almost sarcastically.

"Of course I'm in love with you. I've never stopped loving you." She said sincerely.

"Then why would I be worried? Who says you can't love two people equally?" I asked.

"I don't know," she replied, before looking off to think about my question.

"Babe, I've never wanted this to end our relationship. I love you and I would never leave you. I had faith that you felt the same way. That is why I wasn't afraid of you seeing him. As you can see, it's not like I'm the jealous type. I will always be here for you, no matter what." I confidently told her.

It was then she leaped into my arms and kissed me. We made out a while until she pushed me back and took off my bottoms, where she slurped up my soft cock into her mouth. It instantly got hard and I noticed she was taking its length completely in her mouth without the slightest problem.

"Wow, you've gotten good at deep-throating." I said while watching her newly acquired skill.

It was then she devilishly looked into my eyes and with a mischievous grin replied, "That's because I'm use to sucking on a lot bigger cock."

I felt a slight bit of embarrassment but it only added to my arousal. Which didn't go unnoticed by Irene.

"So you like the humiliation do you?" She asked already knowing the answer. Her tone became that of playful authority.

"I do during sex," I replied. I was laying completely back on the bed with my eyes close. The blowjob I was receiving was spectacular.

"Dwayne has really taught you how to give a great blowjob," I told her.

"I get a lot of practice," she said, still in her kinky voice.

"Do you?" I simply asked.

"Oh yes, a lot of practice. He doesn't even have to ask. When we walk through the door of his apartment I just get down on my knees and give him head. I love it so much that sometimes I can't wait and just give him one in the car as soon as he picks me up." She answered then putting my cock back in her mouth.

"Tell me more," I commanded, nearing my climax.

She was happy to comply and began to tell me more, "My favorite is when I lay on my back at the end of his bed and drop my head off the edge. He stands over top of me and feeds me his beautiful cock. In that position I can almost take his entire length. I use to gag but now I can relax and feel him stretch out my throat. He controls the pace and I have no choice but to take his speed. Sometimes, he fucks my throat like it's my pussy. It's so dominating and I always cum from it; even without touching my pussy."

The old Irene wouldn't even give me head except on very special occasions, and here she was telling me how she loved her throat getting fucked. The mental picture of seeing her get used by the Old Man was enough and I preceded to cum in her mouth like never before.

Part III

From that day on, whenever Irene would get off the phone with him, I would hear her tell him she loved him. Her relationship had really blossomed and let's just say I was following along enjoying the smell of the flowers.

Of course she spent less time with me and more with him. I would also get jealous; but as mentioned before, it was that jealousy that excited me. However, at no point did I feel like I was losing her. Sometimes I would accompany them on their dates and it was always the biggest thrill watching them together. The entire time she would hold his hand and sit closest to him. They would give each other sweet kisses and whisper into each other's ears. Exactly what me and her did whenever it was just us.

After a little less than a year, I still hadn't got to watch them make love. To be honest, it was only a slight annoyance because I was satisfied with her stories. Eventually, one evening when Irene and I was messing around, I brought up the subject again and her proposal really got my heart beating.

"When do I get to watch you two go at it? I mean, it's only fair since I was the one who hooked you two up." I playfully said.

"Well, I still get really shy thinking about you watching us but I've also been thinking about something and though I'm not completely sure if it's a good idea, I still want to bring it by you." She said, now more seriously.

"Go on," I replied.

"Well, Dwayne's apartment is really small and I feel bad for him." She informed me.

I knew what was coming and before she could finish, I spouted the answer out.

"Yes, he can move in," I said.

She laughed and replied, "Well, I will talk to him about it."

"You mean you haven't already?" I asked.

"Not really. I mean we have talked about living together but he is always asking me to move in with him." She told me matter-of-factly.

"So The Old Man has been making a permanent move on Irene," I thought to myself. "Well, I can't blame him," I continued to think, giving him a lot more leeway than he deserved.

"But before I do," she said firmly, "I want you to think about it for a week and if you still consider it a good idea then I will ask Dwayne. Remember, I love you both, equally; but it's hard to share my time equally. What I'm trying to say say is that I don't want you to see us together and start thinking I don't love you"

"Babe, you already almost spend more time with him than me, and I haven't yet started thinking you don't love me." I said, almost frustrated from her consistent lack of of trust in me.

"I know but this will be different. I can't explain it but it might cause a strain on our marriage. Like I said, you think about it and tell me later." She finished.

Of course a week went by and I agreed to the arrangement. When I told her of my decision, she almost leaped into my arms from excitement. She clearly was excited and had been wanting this for a while.

The Old Man had also agreed and within a day had moved into our spare bedroom. He didn't have much stuff to begin with and after throwing away half his old belonging during the move, came out to near nothing. Unbeknownst to me, The Old Man had recently lost his job, which was most likely the reason why Irene brought up him moving in.

I don't know if she purposefully left out that detail or simply forgot to mention it. I want to believe the latter but I expect the former. I don't know if it would have made a difference but it was too late either way. One thing it did mean was The Old Man was going to be home with Irene all day while I was at work. I expected the neighbors would start talking, if they wasn't already. I imagined they would start talking about how an older black man was living with us. Eventually I imagine they would see Irene with him and realize they were lovers. Just like all the other depraved details from before, I got turned on by thought of them knowing our once secret.

First thing I noticed was The Old Man only ever wore briefs around the house. His huge tool proudly bulging from the tight fabric. This didn't go unnoticed by Irene either, though I expected she already knew his preferred lack of clothing from the nights she stayed at his place. The second thing I noticed was Irene's behavior. She was completely infatuated with him, waiting on him hand and foot. Sitting on his lap every time they were together. Their bodies contrasted perfectly. Not only because of their skin color, but their age difference.

At first she would sleep in our bed. However, after they would make love for hours it wasn't uncommon some nights for her just to fall asleep in his arms. I noticed more and more of her belongings ended up in his closet, until she just started hanging them up in there from the start. Eventually his room became their room, and our room became my room. After a while, we all began addressing them as such. She would say something like, "I'm going to the bedroom." Where I would watch her walk to The Old Man's. One particular evening I had been looking for an item and after questioning Irene about its whereabouts she replied, "Honey, remember, I put it in your room."

A normal person would have been heartbroken but not me. The closer they became, the more I was turned on. Anyone looking on would have suspected that I was the roommate and they the couple of the house. Me and Irene still frequently made love, and even went on dates. The majority of her time, however, was spent with him.

Irene's home attire changed to match The Old Man's. Skimpier and skimpier it became until she walked around only in her panties; which had long ago became thongs and other sexy garments. I constantly reminded myself that it was The Old Man who brought about this huge change in Irene. In fact, he did it in a fraction of the time me and her had been married. I started to expect that if she loved anyone more than the other, then it would be The Old Man. Not that it bothered me, she still clearly loved me and I loved her.

12


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