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My Stripper Hotwife

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He heard clothing being stripped off and his wife moaning. Knowing men were excited by her beautiful body fulfilled a need deep inside her, an insatiable lust to be taken and used. He’d started this, but how long could Ryan battle his own jealousy, rage, and hot longing while she’s taken hard and fast by multiple hot studs?

Excerpt

It was a week later before I could talk with Madison.

“It’s been almost a month,” I said turning off the television. It was a rare night she wasn’t at the club or with Cecil.

“A month since what?” Madison asked.

“Since we made love.”

“’Made love.’ Who talks like that?” Madison asked. “You want to go now? Come on, I’m ready.”

She didn’t look ready, in fact she looked anything but ready.

“How many times have you fucked Cecil this month?”

“Thirty days? Probably 40 or 50 times,” Madison answered. “Sometimes before work, sometimes during work, always after work. On some days, all three times. Whenever he wants me.”

“Are we still married?” I asked.

Madison’s head snapped around so she could look at me. “Are you asking for a divorce?”

“No, let me explain myself,” I said. “You know how conflicted I am, how much it turns me on to know you’re over there every night showing yourself and fucking guys. You also know how humiliating it is, and how jealous it makes me.  But, with Cecil, it’s different. It’s like you’re married to him and not me.”

“He asked me to move in with him,” Madison said matter-of-factly.

My heart stopped beating, I could feel acid in the back of my throat, my entire body felt cold. I couldn’t say anything, I felt my mouth working but no words came out.

Madison was studying me. “I told him no,” she said. “At least for right now.”

“What does that mean?” I managed to whisper. “For right now?”

“I’ve kind of… I don’t know… become his anyway,” my wife said. “I’m with him every day. I never know when I’ll see you. You’re always on a case, I might not see you for a week at a time anyway.”

I had to ask the question that really mattered. “Do you love him?”

Madison smiled at me as she stood to leave the room. “I love part of him, maybe I’ll learn to love the rest.”

I was left sitting in my chair feeling cold but sweating at the same time. I was losing my wife, and I didn’t know what to do about it. What I knew about Mary Ann’s connection to Cecil made me afraid for Madison.

And so, life went on. Madison came home later every day, until she was only coming in long enough to shower and change her clothes before going back to the club. I rarely saw her even on her days off.

The investigation continued, except now I knew that Madison, when not at the club, was at Cecil’s apartment. My personal life and my professional life had intersected. Madison and I rarely talked; I already knew what she was doing.

I gave her one more chance. “I don’t see you much anymore.”

“I’ve been pretty busy,” Madison was packing a small suitcase.

“You spend more time with Cecil than you do with me.”

Madison studied me; her gaze finally fixed on my crotch. “I think you like it.”

“I love you, I don’t want to lose you,” I moved to hold her, but she turned away from me.

“You’ve got a funny way of showing love.”

“Can we talk about this? How long do you plan on spending most of your time away from home?” I asked.

“Remember when you asked me if I loved him?” Madison asked. I stopped breathing and my heart stopped beating.

“Madison…”

“I’m close to an answer, please, just let it go,” she snapped the suitcase closed and walked out the door.

When she was gone, I went through the closet, and the dresser. There was very little left of my wife in our home.

 

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