The Houseguest: A Novel About Sharing (and) Temptation Read online

  My ball sack was hot and wet, and she strained to get it all inside of her. “That's it,” I said. “Open up.” She slobbered on my sack, sucking it for a few minutes, before she worked her way back up to my shaft and took me down her throat again.

  “I want you to fuck me,” she said, panting as she held my cock and took a breath. “I'm so ready for your cock.”

  “Get on your hands and knees,” I said. My cock was about to burst, and I hadn't appreciated the interruption, but I wanted to make her come and maybe scream so Ethan could hear it. I watched her climb onto the bed and tilt her ass for me. I rubbed my shaft over her wet cunt and up to her ass. “That's just how I want you to do it for Ethan,” I said. “Show me what else you can do. Show me how you can be a dirty little slut.”

  Natalie looked back at me. I could tell she was at a loss of what else to do, since she was a pretty straightforward girl with sex. I snatched one hand and slapped it onto her ass, and then I pushed her down to her chest and took the other hand. She let me move her like a puppet as I placed her hands on her ass.

  “Pull your ass open,” I said.

  Natalie obeyed, spreading her cheeks wide and creating a picture-perfect view of her engorged cunt and the tiny pink eyelet of her asshole.

  I wanted to go further, give her more and lewder instructions. Ideas so filthy I could hardly believe they came out of my own mind flashed through my head, but my cock was actually to the point of nearly exploding, and I didn't have time for them. I guided my cock to her dripping cunt and plunged inside of her.

  She was so slick again that there was almost no friction. I slammed into her, and it took all of my willpower not to let my mind wander to how it would feel when I finally got what I wanted, and I pushed my cock into my wife only to find it sloshing with Ethan's cum and loose from being stretched by his thick, long cock.

  I went over the edge, but Natalie was right there with me. She was still holding onto her ass, and I watched my cock pummel in and out of her, her hands submissively on her cheeks, as I filled her full of cum. She bit the duvet and yelled into it as her cunt welled up and overflowed with her own filthy orgasm.

  Natalie was facing me, playing with my chest hairs and falling asleep.

  After the buzz of coming wore off, I was back to my cyclical thoughts of distrust and lust, both wanting Natalie to go further and being furious that she had gone this far at all.

  Of course, I knew I couldn't be a dick and say anything like that to her. There wasn't really any option, in my view, except to push it further. If I didn't, Ethan would take it further anyway, himself. I liked the idea of having control over what was happening.

  I stroked Nat's cheek with the back of my hand and she stirred, but in the way that made it obvious she was drifting off to sleep and would rather be left alone.

  “So you don't think Ethan's maybe for real, saying he doesn't want to do this?” I said.

  A smile came to her lips, and she sort of snorted. It was a very dismissive, confident snort. She didn't need to say anything else: she thought the idea was preposterous.

  It was a lot of confidence for Natalie. She had been a fairly confident girl when we met (not the type to laugh huskily at the suggestion that another man might not be trying to get into her pants, right under her husband's nose) but a lot of that confidence had faded with time, kids, age.

  I looked down at her. Her oaky, shiny hair was spread out over the pillow, and her unlined face looked creamy with just a kiss of blush against my skin. Her lips were still pressed into a faint smile. Down by my chest, her pretty breasts moved with her breath.

  Or maybe I was wrong? Maybe Natalie's confidence had been there all along, and she just never had a chance to use it? Maybe I hadn't been paying attention to my wife.

  The realization loomed in my mind, pulsing with its truth:

  Maybe I hadn't been paying attention to my wife.

  I gathered her in my arms, and I hugged her. Then I kissed her on the head. Even I was not deaf to the contradictions of my physical actions and the next words that came out of my mouth:

  “You sound pretty confident that you can seduce a man. That's... a new one.”

  Natalie squirmed a little and opened her eyes. “What's that supposed to mean?” she said. She was a little miffed. It colored her cheeks when she got angry and it was impossible for her to hide.

  I shrugged, and because I was holding her it moved her whole body as I did. She placed her hand on my chest to push herself away. “Just... you know. I'm surprised, is all. Not that you can do it, just that you... are so... seductive about it.”

  Natalie pushed away from my chest to look at me with an expression that, really, I deserved. It's a look women reserve for when men make sexist fart jokes at someone's wedding, that kind of thing.

  But then she gave her hair a little toss. “Huh,” she said. “So you didn't have any confidence in me? You thought maybe... what?”

  I closed my mouth very deliberately. I was starting to get the feeling it was a good idea for me to shut up.

  “Are you having second thoughts?” she said.

  I shook my head and pressed my lips tightly together. If I just kept repeating to myself to keep my mouth closed then maybe I wouldn't say any more stupid shit.

  “So you're just surprised? That I can seduce a man?”

  I made a motion with my head that was neither “yes” nor “no,” and really, it was the most truthful thing I could have done. Natalie rolled her eyes. “What's that?”

  “It isn't that,” I found myself saying. Honestly, women. A fucking cantaloupe could seduce a man, under the right circumstances, but this is a sentence I had learned the hard way to never ever, ever, let pass my lips again. “It's just that you're so... such a sex-bomb.”

  This really could have landed in any number of ways with Natalie.

  But... she smiled. Then she snuggled against my chest. Her fingers worked their way down to the curls of my pubic hair, which was still damp with her juices. My cock was getting hard again, and her mouth flickered with a smile when she confirmed it with her fingertips. Her breath was warm and moist on my skin when she said, in a low voice: “And what worries you about that?”

  I turned and pushed her hands onto the pillow. My cock flexed against her leg, and she smiled again. “I guess I just didn't expect you to... like it so much. You didn't strike me as such a bad girl.”

  “It's sort of fun,” she said, and my cock twitched again. She grinned. “You hardly seem to object.”

  I was already on to other things. “Sort of fun, huh?” I was working my body around so that I could slide my cock inside of her without having to let go of her hands. “How's that? Is Ethan really working his magic on you?”

  She dropped her eyes when she felt my cock twitch at my own words.

  Then she looked back at me. “It's more like... It's really fun to be bad. It's like Ethan's a one-off, right, so I can be really...”

  “Naughty?” I suggested.

  She grinned.

  I maneuvered the tip of my cock to the sopping opening of her cunt by putting my weight on her body. She struggled against me a little, which only made me want her more. My cock slid inside of her up to my balls. “And what kind of naughty things do you have in mind?” I said.

  Natalie lifted her chin and squirmed underneath me. “You'll just have to wait and see.”

  CHAPTER 7: NANNY-CAM

  After we had sex again, I couldn’t help myself. I had to pester Natalie again. When could she make it happen?

  “I have a feeling that I can make it happen tomorrow, if that's what you want. But what's the rush?”

  Natalie was amused with herself, I could see. She was pretty convinced that the rush had been created by her teasing me as we made love, and she was partially correct.

  The other part of the rush, though, was that after the previous day, I didn't fully trust Ethan to be as big of a jerk as he used to be. I was actually starting to believe that he had a conscience, and he might move out of the house before my fantasies had a chance to be realized. The rush was that I was a little unhinged with my needs, and I wanted it done.

  Also, who was this woman? She was negotiating this dark fantasy so... unhesitatingly, it almost didn't seem real.

  “Oh.. okay,” I said, and I was the one who was hesitant. “But... how are we going to arrange it so that I can...”

  “Watch?” Natalie was right there with the word. She was smiling, too. She had a solution already. She held up a finger and disappeared out of the room.

  “Hey good-lookin'” I heard Ethan say to her in the hall. Whatever Natalie's response was, it wasn't audible. I wondered if she had swung her hips to make the shirt crawl up and over her butt, giving Ethan a nice view as she walked away.

  Or maybe the two of them were already in pretty deep. Maybe she blew him a kiss.

  Anything was possible.

  I listened. Ethan went into the bathroom and locked the door. The sounds in the hallway gave me no indication where Natalie had disappeared to.

  An excited, nauseated feeling worked its way through me, as I let my imagination picture Natalie having gone into the bathroom with Ethan. I pictured him lifting her onto the counter, holding his finger to his lips to tell her to be quiet. Then his hands, sliding her panties down. I envisioned Natalie rocking back and forth on the counter to help him pull the already sodden lace over her hips.

  They wouldn’t do that, of course. But the lack of sound in the hallway began to play tricks on me.

  As the minutes ticked by, I pictured them fucking like rabbits on the counter, doing it quickly to not get caught, Ethan's hand over Natalie mouth to keep her from screaming because his huge cock made her come like a rocket. Their eyes locked in their mutual betrayal...

  I stood up.

  Natalie walked into the room at that moment. She had a teddy bear in her hands. She twisted it upside-down and right-side up in rapid succession.

  I stared at her. What she was doing was so out-of-place, so far from the things I had just imagined, that it felt like I had fallen into another dimension.

  “Nanny-cam,” she said, annoyed that I didn't recognize the object. She sighed. “Let's see if it still works.” She set the bear on the dresser and did something at the back of the animal, before plopping onto the bed and getting her phone. She fiddled with a few things and then smiled.

  She flipped the screen toward me. “See?” she extended a leg to push me with her foot so that I went into the Nanny-cam’s range of vision. I watched my legs and torso shuffle into view on her phone.

  The picture was in black and white, and the resolution made it difficult to see details.

  But it would certainly do.

  I went over to the bear and turned it toward Natalie. Then I climbed over her, resting on her lower back. My cock throbbed against her back. I had positioned the camera well, and I could see myself crouched over her, her torso hidden and her long legs twisting out behind me.

  It was a spectacular view.

  I reached behind myself and slid my fingers along the length of her inner thigh, then up to her panties. It was hard to see the detail of what I was doing, but it was sufficient for my imagination – especially if I pretended the man I was watching wasn't even me. I found the hem of her panties and slipped a finger beneath it. I pulled it up and toward me, so that I could dip my fingers into her wet cunt.

  Then I watched myself on the phone as I finger-fucked my wife. Her legs opened and then her feet twisted as I brought her closer to orgasm. When I stopped, to tease her, just before she was about to come, her feet kicked and she tried to rise up beneath me to rub herself against my fingers.

  “Spread your legs,” I whispered hoarsely. I took the phone from her, and I held it up so I could see her legs and the dark hole between them on the screen with more clarity.

  Not ideal, I thought, as I watched my fingers slide between the folds of her cunt and over her clit. I watched her body jerk and spasm as I brought her to orgasm.

  Not ideal... but it would do.

  I had a moment in the car.

  Everything was arranged. All I had to do was turn the key in the ignition and drive off to work. Then I just waited, and I relaxed, until my wife informed me that she was going to fuck my friend Ethan.

  We had decided that the Nanny-cam looked pretty silly in our room, and I also wasn't too keen on them fucking the first time in our bed (or at all... but I wasn't overly resolute about this, either. There was some appeal to the idea of it).

  Still, if she put the bear in the living room or the upstairs loft, on a bookshelf, it might not be so obvious.

  I wasn't sure why I cared.

  That was the thing: I felt certain that if I just told Ethan I wanted to watch him fuck my wife, he wouldn't even so much as flinch at the idea.

  There was some other reason that I wanted to keep it secret.

  Maybe it was something about finally pulling one over on Ethan. While he was there fucking my wife, thinking he was the one being a bad friend... I don't know, it felt good thinking about how I was actually the player.

  But now that I was in the car, my keys in hand, and I had left Natalie in the house with Ethan with what was tantamount to instructions to try and fuck him in the upstairs loft, well... now I couldn't bring myself to turn the engine over.

  What if Natalie were the ultimate trickster here?

  Or what if Natalie and Ethan were plotting something themselves, together? A way of talking me into believing that I was at fault for getting them together? Maybe they had a relationship, outside of what I had seen so far, and this was all a trick to make believe it was my idea. That I had somehow brought it onto myself.

  I shook my head and wiped the sweat off my brow. It was still morning, and pretty cool, but I was sweating like a pig in the parked car.

  These musings were absolutely moronic.

  I wiped my face again and put the car in reverse.

  But I had to think about it all the way to work, going through every turn of circumstance, reassuring myself that I had been in control of Natalie's “relationship” with Ethan all along.

  The Nanny-cam was one of these inventions that you could leave on all day, supposing you wanted to watch your kid from work, and so we had done just that.

  This meant that I, Erik Ossington, spent the whole day staring at my computer with the Nanny-cam feed on it, even though nothing was happening. Natalie had assured me she would text me when she felt the time was getting close, so there was really no need to obsessively check it.

  Even so, I found myself staring at the black and white image of our upstairs loft, where Natalie had finally decided to leave the camera. The ugly couch that was a pull-out bed, in case we ever had so many guests at the same time that we couldn't fit them in the guest bedroom. The plaid of the couch, so at odds with all of the decor in the house, now seemed to taunt me on the black and white screen.

  I stared at the screen, going through all of the interactions between Natalie and Ethan again in my mind, feeling alternate jolts of erotic lust and cold pain, for half an hour at a time.

  What was Natalie doing, right at that moment? Had she really gone on a jog this morning, as she had been all dressed up to do? Or had that been that been just an excuse to wear a skimpy outfit?

  No, she had probably really done it. She liked running, and she usually went a few times a week. She had probably come back dripping in sweat, her forehead sparkling with little beads of it, a dark stain in her sports bra where it had gathered between her breasts. Had she timed her return to “bump into” Ethan?

  He would almost certainly take the bait. He would be able to smell her body, and imagine how she would look if they took a little tumble in the hay. It was a perfect plan, actually. If he saw her upper lip a little damp with sweet, womanly sweat, her cheeks flushed with exertion, her hair springing loose from her pony tail and sticking to her skin, there was no way he’d be able to avoid thoughts of what she would look like if he fucked her. She would smile, lean over the counter while she drank some water, spill some down her throat, bend over so he could see her ass. Then she'd say coyly, “I just have to go take a quick shower,” and his mind would follow her to the bathroom, imagining what she looked like as she ran the stream of water over her naked body.

  I looked at my phone.

  No text. No anything.

  Jesus, Erik. It's 10:30.

  Right.

  Right.

  She needed some time to get the ball rolling. I should be grateful for that. I should be glad that Natalie and Ethan didn't just jump on each other the minute I left the house; after all, that meant they didn't have some secret affair going on already. It meant that things were as Natalie said they were, and I still had some control over this whole thing.

  I needed to relax. Trust my wife. Wait for a text.

  I minimized the Nanny-cam screen and stared at a will. I had the intention of burying myself in boring but easy, rubber-stamp projects I'd been putting off.

  At 10:37, after getting nothing accomplished, I maximized the window again and leaned toward the screen. I stared at the living room.

  Nothing, not even the shadows outside the house, seemed to have changed.

  Maybe it was frozen.

  Maybe the Nanny-cam didn't work anymore.

  Maybe.. and my heart took a plunge... maybe Natalie had known that, or somehow programmed it, and I was just staring at an endless feed while she went about her business, fucking Ethan all over the house.

  I shook my head.

  That was so ridiculous. It was a ridiculous, overwrought conspiracy.

  Most ridiculous was the idea of Natalie programming a Nanny-cam. What did I even think that meant? If she really wanted to be evil she would just fuck him in some other room.

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