Satisfying Her Needs: A Hotwife Revealed Story (Her Needs Series) Read online

  “Maybe you would think so, but you’re my husband, you already like the way I look. But a woman needs to think of how others see her, not just her husband.”

  She said it offhand, and immediately went back to her shopping. What did she mean? Who else would she be dressing for? She didn’t work, so it wasn’t like she needed to look a certain way at the office.

  After a while I got bored and wandered off. As long as she found something she liked it would be fine with me. But I was still bothered by her comment.

  By the third store I had decided to just wait outside while she shopped. It was pretty clear that I wasn’t being useful, other than being the one ultimately responsible for paying the credit card bill. Sitting on a bench, I watched Andie through the large window as she shopped. It was one of those wide open stores that didn’t seem to have much on display, which usually meant everything was very expensive.

  A very good looking tall black man with broad shoulders was helping her out, and at first I suspected he was gay. What straight guy would be working in a women’s clothing boutique? Andie seemed quite animated, and every time the clerk pulled out an outfit she rushed to try it on, then returned for his reaction. Even though I couldn’t hear her she seemed very intent on what he thought. At one point he turned her toward the mirror, and then stood behind her, obviously showing her some aspect of how the blouse and skirt fit. He was standing very close to her, talking over her shoulder, and then he pulled the blouse away from her body on each side, as if to say it was too large.

  Then the black man cinched the blouse tight, maybe to show her what it would look like if it were more fitting. I could almost sense Andie gasp as the fabric pulled against her breasts, making them much more prominent. I was watching her profile, and the result was dramatic; the look went from dressy to almost slutty. I expected Andie to slap his hand and pull away, but instead she just moved her head to meet the black man’s eyes in the mirror. And then she nodded.

  I was shocked. Was this how the clerks in this store treated customers? I couldn’t imagine me shopping for a pair of pants, and after trying them on some woman clerk pulling at my waistband to make my cock more prominent. Yet that was what this guy was doing.

  I tried to calm myself. Andie obviously thought nothing of it, so why should I? Plus, they were in a public store. It wasn’t like the guy was hitting on her.

  Or was he? Maybe he didn’t know I was right outside. He had to have seen her wedding ring, though.

  After what seemed like a long time, but was probably just a few seconds, the man finally released his hold on Andie’s blouse. I let out the breath I had been unconsciously holding.

  I laughed at myself. What was I thinking?

  The black man said something to Andie. She slowly reached down and fingered the skirt by the hem, and after hesitating a moment, lifted it a little, so it was just above her knee. The black man, still standing extremely close behind her, made a keep going motion with his hand, and Andie lifted the skirt a little higher. Her eyes were on the mirror, but I couldn’t tell if she was focused at how the skirt would look if shorter, or if she was staring at the reflection of the big black man.

  The clerk motioned again, and Andie lifted the skirt even higher. It was now well above her knees, showing a lot of her thighs. The black man reached for her blouse and again pulled it tighter, and Andie’s breasts once again burst out prominently.

  I was about to jump up but I suddenly had the strangest reaction. My cock swelled, and at first I thought it was because my wife looked so beautiful, more of her shapely legs visible, her breasts straining against the silky fabric. But I had seen her naked, why was this mere peek of her legs getting to me?

  The black man nodded, as if satisfied, but Andie grinned, and lifted the skirt a little higher. I could tell the back man was laughing. Andie turned her head to look directly at him, she would have seen me if she had looked my way, but she seemed to have forgotten about me; did she even know I was sitting right outside the store?

  Then, as Andie stared into the black man’s eyes, her face inches from his, she lifted her skirt once more. With each inch she raised it up, my cock grew. And then it hit me, I wasn’t just reacting to Andie’s show of leg. I was reacting to the black man’s hands on her, to how close they were, and to how she was responding to him, to what she was doing with him.

  Once again I had the urge to jump up, but was afraid my now full erection would be noticeable. And what would I do? Barge into the store to stop a clerk from helping my wife pick out an outfit?

  Now Andie was laughing, and while still looking over her shoulder she lifted her skirt even higher, and she must have lost track of how high it was, because now I could see a lot of thigh, almost as if she was wearing a micro mini. The black man shook his head, but I could tell he was doing it in jest, as if he was pretending to be offended, that Andie had gone too far.

  Now I was really mad, not only at the clerk, but at Andie. She seemed to be flirting.

  I tried to reason with myself. Andie was very friendly, she had always been that way. She made everyone feel at ease. She was just having a bit of fun, and besides, the clerk was probably gay anyway.

  Andie turned away from the mirror. Instead of backing away, the black man stood his ground, and now Andie was pressed against his broad chest. I was enraged to see that he still hadn’t let go of her blouse, making it almost look like he was hugging her.

  Erection or not, I started to stand up. I was interrupted by a chuckle coming from the bench next to me. A man about my age was also sitting and looking through the window at Andie and the black clerk.

  “He’s got her now,” said the man.

  “Huh? What do you mean?” I asked, slowly sitting back down.

  The man nodded toward the window. “Once they let him put his hands on them, that’s it. They’ll do anything after that.”

  I glanced at the man on the bench, who seemed like a normal guy, and then looked back inside the store. The black clerk had finally separated himself slightly from my wife, but as he moved away Andie’s body followed his, like she didn’t want to lose the connection. The clerk walked over to get another outfit, and Andie was right behind him. He gave her the outfit and motioned to the dressing room. Part way there she looked back over her shoulder. Had he said something? Was that a coy glance?

  “You’ve seen this before?” I asked the guy next to me.

  “Almost every day. Watch this part,” he replied, leaning forward.

  For a few seconds nothing happened, then the black man picked up a pair of shoes, handed them to Andie, and pointed to the dressing room. She hesitated, as if considering something. Was that a look of disappointment?

  Andie disappeared into the back room.

  The man next to me let out a laugh. “He’s toying with her.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  The guy looked over at me. “She wanted him to go into the dressing room with her. He sometimes does, although not usually on their first visit. He makes them practically beg for it.”

  I was flabbergasted. That was my wife the guy was talking about. But for some reason I couldn’t admit it to him, or agree that she was flirting, because it would make her sound like a slut. And obviously he was wrong, of course Andie didn’t want the black clerk to go in the dressing room with her. To see her in the outfit, okay, I understood that. But nothing more.

  “I think you must be imagining things,” I said.

  The guy laughed again. “Believe what you want. But this is like free real life porn, which is why I hang out here. I’ve seen women practically drag him back into the dressing room.”

  “Maybe they just want some help with their outfits,” I said.

  “They want some help all right, but not with their outfits.”

  I shook my head. “It’s a public store. He can’t be coming on to them, he’d get fired.”

  “I think he owns the place. Besides, what better way to hook up with hot women? He ge
ts to pick and choose. I bet a lot of women are bored with their husbands and just salivate over the attention. Not to mention over his cock.”

  I still refused to believe it. “I think he’s gay.”

  “Really? Why don’t you find out? Go in there and hit on him, see if he’s interested in a man.”

  “I’m not gay,” I said.

  The guy shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me either way. But I know what I’ve seen. He pulls that Wouldn’t this top look better if it were tighter ploy all the time. Once I even saw this married woman pull his hands right on top of her tits! And there were other people in the store! It was like she just got lost in it.”

  “How do you know she was married?” I asked, blown away by the thought of the clerk fondling a woman’s breasts. Fondling Andie’s breasts.

  “I saw her ring.”

  “Didn’t anyone say anything?”

  “The other women in the store seemed envious, not upset. I bet they wanted those big black hands on their breasts.”

  I imagined Andie standing there, resting her hands over his as he tugged on her blouse, guiding his hands to her breasts. . .

  She’d never do that. She was my wife.

  “That woman who was just there,” I said. “She didn’t do anything at all like that.”

  “No, she didn’t.” The voyeur sounded disappointed. “But did you see how she hiked up her skirt? And man, that look she gave him as she went into the dressing room? She wanted it.”

  “No, she didn’t,” I protested. But now I was starting to wonder.

  “I guess we’ll have no way of telling,” said the man. “Although I bet I see her here again. He especially likes the married ones. She’s got a rock on her finger, her husband must be loaded. He’s off somewhere, playing golf or something, thinking his wife is out shopping, totally oblivious to what his wife is really shopping for.”

  At that moment Andie emerged from the dressing room. She was now dressed in a short, very tight knit dress which squeezed her thighs together. Her breasts pushed against the form fitting fabric. And she had on four inch heels, something I had never seen her wear.

  She looked amazing. Sexy without being slutty. Or maybe just a little slutty.

  The black man waited as Andie approached. She stood before him, posing, one leg out a little. The clerk twirled his finger, and Andie dutifully turned around, showing off. The back of the dress was cut low, revealing a lot of skin. My eyes followed it down to the sharp outline of her ass.

  I gasped.

  Andie finished her twirl, and the black man nodded slowly, giving his approval. Andie beamed.

  “Wow,” said the guy next to me, clearly in awe. “That’s hot.”

  “Yes, she is,” I managed to say.

  “I bet the next time she’s here she’ll come out of that dressing room looking a little more disheveled. I’m definitely coming back tomorrow.”

  The two of us watched in silence as Andie returned to the dressing room. She was in there quite a while.

  “Composing herself,” said the voyeur. “Or maybe masturbating.”

  The same thought had crossed my mind. Could she be? The idea was terrifying, and oddly exciting.

  Finally she emerged, dressed in her original outfit.

  “Not wearing it home, I see,” said my companion.

  “She’s probably going to save it for her husband,” I said.

  The man laughed. “You think she bought that for her husband? She bought it for him.”

  And as I watched Andie sign the undoubtedly expensive credit card receipt, all I could think about was the look on her face as she modeled the outfit for the black man. Was she thinking of what she looked like to him in it? Or was she thinking of what she would look like out if it?

  As Andie headed for the door I got up quickly and walked away, trying desperately to hunch over and hide my erection, still confused as to what exactly had made me so aroused. After leaving the store, Andie didn’t mention a thing. In fact, she was a little subdued, her earlier excitement about shopping no longer evident. What was she thinking about? Who was she thinking about?

  I asked her if she wanted to shop some more, but she just wanted to go home. “I don’t think I’ll find anything better than what I did,” she said, and even though she seemed happy with her purchase, for some reason her voice had a hint of sadness in it.

  “Did you get everything you wanted today?” I asked.

  Andie gave me an odd look. “Does anyone ever get everything they want?” She looked away. “Sometimes we have to just be happy with what we have.”

  That night the strangest thing happened. Not strange as in bad, but as in unexpected. I went up to be unusually early, the events of the day wearing on me, my head hurting from thinking about it so much, trying to decide if I should say something to Andie. I figured she would be in the shower, or reading. But the lights were off, and I could tell Andie was already in bed.

  I quietly climbed in next to her, in case she was sleeping. Instead, she said, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  I was shocked as she leaned over to kiss me, and even more shocked to find out she was totally naked. I couldn’t remember the last time Andie had gone to bed naked. In the beginning of our relationship, sure, and maybe a few times after we got married. That was it.

  Andie’s mouth was all over mine, her hands already reaching for my cock. Surprised as I was, I responded instantly. This wasn’t the time to wonder about her desire, I wanted it so badly I couldn’t think of anything else but her and what she was doing.

  Andie stripped off my underwear with one hand as she pulled my hand onto her breast with the other. She moaned as she mashed my hand into her chest, guiding my fingers onto her nipples, forcing me to squeeze them, much harder than I ever would have on my own. I even tried to pull my hand away. I didn’t want to hurt her, but she made me squeeze even harder, pinching her teats, and her moans told me she liked it, something I never would have expected.

  She pulled me on top of her, grabbing the back of my head, pulling it against her, our mouths now pressed together, her tongue diving into my mouth. Her hand was still on my cock, stiff between us. I thought she’d guide me into her, but her legs were locked together, and I suspected she wasn’t wet, that she was trying to get herself excited, so that maybe we could have sex without some artificial lubrication for a change.

  I reached my hand down between us, touching her thigh, thinking I could try to get her wet with my fingers or my mouth. But she forced her hip into mine, and I couldn’t get my fingers between her legs. What was she doing? I didn’t understand the mixed signals, attacking me, but then not letting me touch her.

  I tried one more time, forcing my hand in, and she let up just a little, giving me a hint of access. I took that as a signal, and I groped forward, but she said, “No, no,” even as she was opening up a little more, and I froze, not sure what to do. Andie hesitated, then I felt her legs spread beneath me, and my cock was poised at her entrance, and just my weight pushed me toward her.

  “No!” she groaned, and again I was confused, I thought she might be talking about not being ready, so I let up the pressure and leaned over to the nightstand for the lubricant, but at that moment Andie opened her legs wide and urgently whispered, “Take me!” and thrust her hips forward, and, unbalanced, I fell on top of her and into her, and she was wet, soaking, wetter than I ever remembered her being, even after long foreplay.

  I didn’t need any more prompting, just her wetness drove me wild. I was exciting her! Finally! I drove into her and again she said, “No!” as her hands pushed against my chest, as if to ward me off, but her voice and her hands had no conviction, and for some reason I understood that she wasn’t telling me to stop, and I drove into her again, and now her arms were around me, and she was repeating over and over, “Take me, take me!”

  I’d never seen her this way or heard her talk like this, and the combination of her dirty talk and her wetness and her desire turned me on
like I’d never been before, and way too fast I was out of control, spurting into her. Andie kept grinding against me, but I was spent, and she groaned, and in my post orgasmic clarity heard disappointment. I tried to keep thrusting but my cock had gone flaccid. I reached for her clit and rubbed it gently, but it obviously wasn’t enough, because Andie grabbed my hand and used it like a sex toy, grinding my fingers on her. She couldn’t get much movement because I was still on top, and with a strength I didn’t know she possessed she pushed me off her.

  Without taking her hand from her clit Andie reached into her nightstand drawer and pulled something out. My eyes had finally become accustomed to the dark and I saw that it was a very large black dildo. I lay there helpless, feeling useless, as she used both hands to drive it into her pussy.

  I had seen a small vibrator on her nightstand once, but never a dildo. How long had she had this?

  As if I wasn’t there, Andie fucked herself, hard, the large dildo thrusting into her pussy, her hips reaching up, slamming into the oversized black cock. It made me immediately think of a well hung black man on top of her, taking her. Was that what Andie was thinking? Is that why she had bought a black dildo?

  The black man at the store popped into my mind. Had she bought this dildo because of him? It had only been today. Or had she seen him before? Or another black man she fantasized about?

  And now I couldn’t help it, I was imagining a black man on top of my wife, fucking her, and watching how excited she was getting, and I felt humiliated, and jealous, and sad, but at the same time I couldn’t help but notice how excited Andie was, how aroused, how crazed, and as I watched her approach her orgasm I could only fear what she was thinking about as she pushed herself over the edge into a shuttering climax.

  Chapter 3

  A week went by and we didn’t have sex again. Each night I lay in bed hoping that she’d want to start something, but it was pretty clear she wasn’t interested. If she got up before me in the morning, which she often did, I would roll over to her side of the bed. I could still feel her warmth, and the soft aroma of her scent. It would get me immediately aroused, thinking of her, of those breasts, of her legs crossing over mine. I would masturbate, guilty but not knowing why. After all, I was thinking about her, not some other woman.