EXCERPT If I described my wife, I would have to use words such as loving, loveable,
kind, generous, friendly, adventurous, intelligent, and decisive. I would have
to include descriptive terms such as sexy, hot blooded, passionate, leggy, built
like a brick shit-house (even though I do not understand that term), wild,
wicked, and wonderful. Of course she is beautiful.
I would have to mention she graduated from a very nice college with
honors. I would have to mention that she always has been a perfect wife and
partner. She is involved in civic affairs. She has never failed to vote in
national, state, or local elections. She keeps abreast of what’s going on in the
world.
I am, I suppose, like a lot of husbands because I see my wife as near
perfection. The difference in me and other men is my wife, Amy Grant, is nearly
perfect. She is the best part of me, period.
Obviously that is not the end of this story. It’s just a beginning
because my wife doesn’t see herself as I do. She sees flaws in herself where
there are no flaws.
My name is Rex Grant and since I’m not stupid I realize that Amy has some
minor flaws. They are little tiny inconspicuous things that do not even need to
be mentioned; a few little things and one larger detail. It’s that larger thing
that brings me to the story. My wife is hot! Very, very hot. So sexual she
sizzles.
Some may not see that as a flaw and mostly it’s not a defect. Amy and I
have been married for three years and a few months. I haven’t actually figured
it out on paper, but in the one thousand and some days since we tied the knot we
have engaged in some type of sex at least once a day. Some days when she is
feeling particularity frisky, more than once.
I’m not complaining because most of the time I can keep up with her
demands and perhaps even exceed them. We both have a high libido and our sex
drive is usually in sync.
Now I suppose I should attempt to describe me. I could use words such as
Adonis, Greek god-like, intelligent, handsome, and hung. I could use all those
words but that would be a barefaced lie. I am in fair physical condition because
I engage in sports and workout. I am not bad looking. Some of the fairer sex has
described me as rugged looking. Now, as far as being hung, I’m about average.
At least in my mind I am. I suppose my best attribute is that Amy loves me. I
don’t need anything else to make me complete. I had no clue that major changes
were on the horizon. It started when we agreed to hire a professional painter to
come and paint our new apartment before we moved in.
My small publishing business had finally started make us enough money to
move up. I inherited the business from my uncle after he died and none of his
children wanted it. I inherited by default I guess. It was basically a one man
show. One man and Amy taking care of the secretarial and receptionist duties. My
uncle published a couple titles a year. Since taking over I managed to get that
up to ten titles last year and luckily, they all did well. Hence the new
apartment.
Amy had taken the say off to supervise the painting so when I could get
away I went to the new place to see how it was going. I let myself in the
unfurnished place and sniffed the paint fumes that filled the air. I followed
the sound of voices to the dining room. I found Amy and two men there.
Amy was wearing a pair of baggy shorts with very loose legs and a
sweatshirt that had been modified. By modified I mean she had whacked it with a
pair of scissors. The sleeves were missing to the shoulders and the bottom
two-thirds also was missing. Amy was two steps up a ladder pointing to the
light fixture. I don’t know what she was point at, but the two men’s attention
was centered on the bottom half of her breasts and her completely exposed
pussy.
“How’s it going?” I asked.
“Hi honey,” Amy said not coming down from her exposed position. “It’s
going great. I want to replace this light fixture and Clarence said he could do
it for us. Is that okay with you?” I said it was fine with me. When Amy turned
to talk to me I could see that it was more than just the bottom half of her
boobs that were visible.
It was obvious that Amy was enjoying herself because she was flushed and
her eyes were sparkling. She knew the two men could see her charms and she
didn’t care!
“That is Clarence, the owner, and that is Juan his helper,” Amy said
jumping down from the ladder. Clarence was a white man and Juan was obviously a
Hispanic. I shook hands with both of them. “Come on and let me show you the
bedrooms,” Amy said grabbing my hand and pulling me with her.
“Nice,” I said looking at the newly painted walls and ceiling. I even
managed to look interested which I wasn’t.
“Do you like this color? It’s ivory. I thought about going a shade
darker. What do you think, Rex?”
“I think you have on no bra or panties,” I said. “Got a little severe
with the scissors, didn’t you?” I asked flipping the shirt up and grasping her
hard nipple. “Your painters seemed to enjoy the view.”
“You think so?” she said giggling. “It always pays dividends to keep the
galley slaves happy.” I could tell Amy was aroused. She was getting off showing
off for the paint crew. I had no idea that Amy was an exhibitionist. In all the
time we had been together, she had never shown any tendency toward it so you can
imagine my surprise.
“I also think it’s a good thing I arrived when I did,” I said running my
hand up the leg of her shorts. Her pussy was wet.
“Nothing was going to happen,” she said with a catch in her voice when my
finger found her extended clitoris. “I was just giving the boys a little show.”
I wasn’t sure that was the case, but I didn’t say anything.
“We’re leaving now, Mrs. Grant,” Clarence said. “We’ll be back bright and
early tomorrow morning to finish the job.”
“That’s fine, Clarence,” Amy said quickly backing away from my probing
fingers. “I’ll go in the morning and get a light for you to install.”
***
“You should be careful teasing men like that,” I told Amy that night. We
were in bed and about to get down to some serious lovemaking. “That’s a good way
to get fucked.”
“Oh? I’ll keep that in mind,” she said taking my cock in her hand. “Would
it bother you if I did?”
That was a good question. A very good question. Would it bother me? The
answer came as a surprise to me that it wouldn’t bother me very much. I
suddenly found myself thinking about Amy being hosed by Clarence or Juan.
“Yes, it would kill me,” I answered giving her the answer I though she
wanted to hear. I stopped the conversation and bit down on one of her nipples;
harder then I normally did causing her to gasp and moan.
Nothing more was said about it for several days. Clarence and company
finished their jobs and left. The movers came, got our furniture, and moved it
to the new apartment. Amy stayed busy arranging and rearranging the furniture
for another couple of days. Things finally settled down to our old routine, but
I did think about it. I could easily visualize Amy in the arms of another man. I
could see her with her legs open and ready to take his cock.
***
It was early May when Jonas Mills came to the office. Amy was off running
some errands. Jonas Mills was a photographer and he wanted us to publish a book
of his photographs. He brought his portfolio with him and his photos were
sizzling hot. Mostly nudes and some I would judge to be pornographic.
“I don’t know, Mister Mills,” I said looking at the collection of
beautiful women. “We’ve done coffee table books before, but nothing like this.
Mostly scenic photographs and travel books. I will have to say they are all
beautiful and beautifully done.”
“Thank you,” Mills said. “I have the prettiest models in town, but here’s
the best part. I have a distributor all ready lined up. They will initially buy
five thousand copies so you can’t lose. You will make money from the get-go, but
they’ll want an exclusive contract.”
That did make a big difference indeed. Getting any work out to the public
was hardest part of publishing a book. I wasn’t sure I wanted our name
associated with porn or near porn, but I was getting around that in my mind.
Mills left me to ponder the deal and I called Amy to come in and look at the
pictures.
“Nice,” Amy said looking at the portfolio. “Can we sell something like
this?”
“Mister Mills claims he had a buyer for five thousand copies,” I said. I
showed her the letter of intent Mills left with me. “It would be relatively
simple to get these photos in book form and make the books. My only objection is
having our publishing hoses name on a book like this. Grant Publishers had a
good reputation and I’d hate to fuck that up.”
“Why don’t we publish them under another name?” Amy suggested. “Form a
new company and call it…I don’t know…Pussy Willow Publishing or something.” I
was thinking along the same lines, and Pussy Willow sounded like a good name to
me. There would certainly be a lot of pussies in the book.
The next morning I called the distributor and verified the letter of
intent. They assured me that it was real. I hadn’t done business with them, but
I was familiar with them. I called Jonas Mills and told him I though we could do
business. He came later that day.
“It isn’t often that somebody comes along and lays a sure fire money
maker on your desk is it, Mister Grant?” he said. “I guess you’re wondering why
I did it. I’ll tell you. I used a competitor of yours for the last two books I
did. They got scared of adverse publicity when I went to open spreads. They
were willing to do what they called tasteful nudes, but not what I wanted to
show. They called my photos sleazy.”
They were pretty sleazy, but I didn’t voice my opinion. I wanted the
money I would make so we signed the agreement to publish. Mills was satisfied
with the standard publishing contract.
“Okay, now that we got that out of the way, who is the fox out front?”
Mills asked me. “She’s a real beauty. Does she model?” I was aware that Amy had
done some catalog modeling as a child and early teen because she told me about
it.
“Not lately,” I told Mills. “She is my wife.”
“Congratulations,” he said. “She’s still a fox and I’d love to shoot her.
I’d pay her scale and that ain’t bad.”
I almost told him she wouldn’t be interested, but I remembered her
showing off for the painters. I told him he would have to discuss it with
Amy.
“Can you believe he wants to photograph me?” Amy said that evening at
dinner. I told her I had no trouble believing any photographer would want to
take her picture. “He said he wanted to do nudes of me.”
“I would imagine he would,” I said. “Are you going to do it?”
“No!” she said with a laugh. “I couldn’t do that.” She paused and then
said, “Could I, Rex?” I smiled at her naivety. Amy had no idea how good she
looked. “Why are you smiling?” she asked. “I couldn’t bare it all. Posing naked
would be…I don’t know. Weird I guess. Would you do it, Rex?’
“If I had your fabulous body I would be sorely tempted,” I said. “How
much does it pay?”
“One hundred fifty an hour with a guaranteed three hour minimum,” Amy
said.
“Damn, that’s almost as much as your painters charged us,” I teased. “Do
it if you want to, Amy. Maybe you can make enough to offset the painting and
light fixtures.”
“You would be all right with it?’ she asked. “Seriously?” I assured her
it was fine with me. I had used my little cheap digital camera to take pictures
of her and I knew she would do well.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ll have to think long and hard about it.”
Our conversation drifted on to other things.
***
The book came along quickly and I sent the finished product to the
printer a week later. I thought Amy had decided not to model for Mills since we
hadn’t talked about it since that night at dinner. I was wrong.
“I’m going to do it,” Amy announced one day. The first of Mill’s books
had arrived and she was looking at one. “I think this is artistic, don’t
you?”
I looked over her shoulder at the page she had open. It was an attractive
young woman with her legs spread open and she was fingering her pussy with one
hand and tugging at her nipple with the other hand. The woman had a slight smile
on her face.
“Artistic wouldn’t be my choice of words,” I said. “Hot maybe, erotic for
sure. A hundred fifty an hour, huh?”
“No I held out and got the rate up to two hundred per hour,” Amy said.
“I’ll have the painting paid for in no time.”
“When do you do it?”
“Friday evening,” Amy answered. “I’m both worried and excited. I won’t be
like I’m naked with a complete stranger. I mean I’ve met with Jonas several
times and he seems nice.”Three days away so I thought she would change her mind.
Part of me, a very small part, hoped she would.
On Thursday after work Amy told me she was going shopping. I glanced at
her then took a longer look. She had on jeans and a tee shirt and no bra. Her
nipples were pushing against the shirt and were clearly visible. I made mention
of that obvious fact.
“Yeah, my boobs and my choice to wear a bra or not. If someone wants to
look, that’s their choice. I’ll be back in a couple of hours and I’ll bring deli
home for dinner.”
On Friday evening she got ready to go and asked me if I wanted to go with
her. I did, but I asked her if she wanted me to go.
“I do,” she answered. “And I don’t. I think I might be more nervous with
you there.” I told her I would be there when she got home. I planned on working
at the office late.
I got home about ten o’clock that night just a few minutes before Amy
arrived.
“How did it go?” I asked her. The question and the answer were
unnecessary. I could see by her expression she was high on excitement.
“I had a ball!” she declared. “I loved it and Jonas was great.” I
encouraged her to tell all. “Kay, but give me a moment to wash the cum off of
me. I feel icky and sticky.”
“What?” I bellowed following her to the bathroom. “Cum?”
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Children`s Fiction
Erotica Fiction
