My Hotwife's Secret Lover

ONE.

 

I looked at the text message that had been sent to me. The telephone number I didn’t recognize. The naked ass in the picture I did. I was intimately familiar with that ass. It was my wife’s. What I didn’t recognize was the cock that was inside my wife’s pussy fucking her doggy-style.

It wasn’t mine.

I was conflicted. I liked seeing my wife naked. I liked seeing naked pictures of my wife. What I didn’t like was an anonymous person sending this sort of thing to me.

And just to be clear, it was my wife’s ass. It might have been photoshopped, but it wasn’t for reasons that will become clear. Besides which, who would have access to my wife’s naked ass to photoshop such a picture? I recognized the prominent freckle on her left ass cheek and, more importantly, the playful dolphin tattoo on her right cheek. It was her.

What was really disconcerting was how hard my own cock got when I saw the picture.

This was the first time in my life that I was experiencing a rage boner. I was angry and turned on at the same time.

Without thinking I tapped a message into my phone and sent to the anonymous source the picture came from.

Who the fuck is this and how did you get a naked picture of my wife?!

I didn’t bother with asking about who she was fucking. That was the obvious question to ask and I avoided it.

Naturally there was no answer. Not then. Not for the rest of the afternoon.

 

I know what you’re thinking. Why not use a reverse phone number look up to see who sent the picture? I started to do that. But I’m a cheapskate at heart. Naturally, because the number was attached to a cell phone, there was a fee to find out the owner. It wasn’t an outrageous fee, but it was high enough to give me pause. And there was always the possibility it was coming from a burner phone registered to a fake name. I didn’t feel like wasting my money.

My frugalness was why I also didn’t throw my phone across the room in a blind rage. Controlled fury is much more dangerous that chaotic anger. I resolved myself to be controlled.

And let’s not beat around the bush here. I was angry, but I was turned on. The thought of my wife fucking someone else got my blood boiling not from anger, but from lust. I felt a bit of anger, but that was because the person was taunting me. Looking back, if the pictures had been shared with me and my wife and her lover all knowing what was going on, things would have turned out much better for everyone.

Sarah had gotten the dolphin tattoo after we were married. So this wasn’t some old photo floating around the internet that someone grabbed and fixed up. She had definitely fucked someone else without telling me, her husband.

And how does a woman go about telling her husband that she wants to fuck someone else.

I had no clue.

 

I went home from work that day with the full expectation that maybe it was all staged, that maybe Sarah somehow magically knew that her fucking other men was a turn on for me, something I didn’t know until I had that picture sent to me. After we both got home from work, I pretended like everything was normal. I kept expecting her to turn to me and say something along the lines of, “So, did you like the picture David sent to you? You know, the one of him fucking me from behind. You didn’t know you liked your wife slutting around behind your back, did you? But I knew that.” And then we’d kiss and fall to the floor and have wild, passionate sex.

That didn’t happen.

It was just another dull, boring, married life at home.

And it was entirely possible my wife had no idea about the picture. Maybe the guy she was banging took the picture secretly; she was facing away from the camera, after all. Maybe he had taken it months ago, and only now sent it to me.

What I didn’t get was why. Why now? Why no message of humiliation? Why no demand for money to keep quiet about my wife’s slutty ways.

Blackmail?

Yeah, blackmail.

Both my wife and I had semi-prominent jobs with the county government. There were clauses in our contracts, as with all government employees, about morality. Sure, this was low-level stuff, but it was enough to cause a problem for me, or her, if someone wanted to cause problems.

I waited. It was all I could do at the moment.

 

The next day I got another picture of the mystery man banging my wife. It had obviously been taken at the same time as the first picture. The angle and content was similar, but I could see a little more of his cock which was lengthy along with the glistening of my wife’s wetness on his skin. That’s when I realized they weren’t using a condom.

That made my cock grow even harder as I examined the picture.

I wasn’t worried about my wife getting pregnant, but there were other risks. But I forgot about those risks when I realized that whenever these pictures were taken, my wife had come home to me with another man’s cum in her pussy.

That thought made me get up from my desk and walk quickly to the bathroom. It wasn’t like we had private offices, just desks in an open area, so the bathroom was the only option. I jerked off with my phone in one hand and my cock in the other, staring at the picture of my wife getting railed by some other man. I was ashamed and excited and I shot my load into the toilet. What I really wanted was to shoot my load while my wife was watching. Her picture was a poor substitute for that.

Once I came most of my pent-up anxiety was gone. When I looked at the picture of my wife, I only felt a twinge of anger and no lust. I felt I had to respond in some way.

Asking for the name of the person texting me the pictures was stupid. I wouldn’t get a truthful reply.

Insulting him (and I did presume it was a him because of the unknown cock in my wife’s pussy and it didn’t seem like something a woman would do) would be a waste of time, if for no other reason than it was exactly the response my tormentor wanted.

I had to play it smart. I sent the text before I left the bathroom.

 

Got any more pictures of her?

 

It was short and sweet and didn’t give any indication that I knew who was in the picture, or that I was her husband.

I was back at my desk and resuming my work when my phone buzzed. I glanced at the reply.

 

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