Hotwife Surprise

Cleo chuckled, eyes bright as she traced a long nail over the exposed inner flank of one round breast, the top three buttons of the jacket undone to reveal a hint of a dark blue patterned bra beneath.

"Yes, of course," she breathed, smirking. "But this is how I wear it tonight. It is also part of your surprise, so I wore it sexy for you now."

"Just what is this surprise?" Malcolm asked, intrigued.

"In the living room," Cleo replied, pointing.

When he saw the slim tripod and camera set up in the lounge, Malcolm blinked in surprise.

He looked at his wife, bemused. "What...?"

Cleo repaired her lipstick, examining her handiwork with approval through a mirror above a black wood unit. Satisfied, she then walked to a big armchair in white leather, turning to face her husband as he frowned at the video equipment.

"It is for you. For when you go away on business or I am working in Guatemala. I want you to watch and remember your wife."

Still puzzled, Malcolm shook his head, grimacing as she said, "What? I don't get it, Cleo."

"You will," his wife replied, pointing to another chair, the twin she was standing in front of. "But for now -- sit. Sit down and do not interrupt."

Malcolm's mouth opened. "But--"

"Sit down!"

His eyes widened at Cleo's sharp command. He thought about mugging her off and asking what the hell was going on. But in the end, after a few seconds of glittery-eyed stand-off, he relented and did as he was told.

"Good, well done," Cleo said, hair shimmering as she nodded briskly. "Now, see what I bought today?"

She went to the video camera and switched it on. Next, she took the remote control and pointed it at the television fixed on its bracket on the wall to Malcolm's right. A picture appeared on the screen: the living room with the arm chair opposite him the focus.

Malcolm kept his mouth shut despite his growing incredulity, a shocked gasp coming out of him when Cleo walked to the chair and reached into a luridly coloured plastic bag which had lain there unnoticed.

"I bought the camera, the tripod, and these," Cleo purred, her smirk sly when she held up two objects for Malcolm's gape-mouthed perusal.

"Jesus, Cleo..." he mumbled, agog at the sight of a thumb-sized, hot-pink vibrator his wife held up.

"Shush," Cleo said, brow creasing while she pouted at him in disapproval. "Don't interrupt."

"Yes, but--"

"Wait and see," Cleo interjected, waggling a huge lump of moulded rubber cock at him. "This is your surprise.

"No-no," she chuckled, amused when she saw her husband's appalled expression. "It isn't for you. It's for me. Don't worry, Malcolm. I don't want to put this into your ass."

Regardless of the shock, Malcolm felt a ripple of arousal as the realisation dawned. She was going to fuck herself with it. His hot wife was going to jam that awful bulk of latex into her pussy.

...And she was going to record the whole scene!

"Oh fuck," groaned Malcolm, his cock swelling. "Dear God, Cleo..."

His wife grinned at him, eyes like slits, expression feline. "Shut up and watch," she purred.

***

With a glance at the television, Cleo hiked the skirt up to her waist and slumped into the chair. She laid the rubber cock on the arm and then, lifting her shoes from the floor, spread her legs.

Malcolm was puzzled at first. He looked at his wife and examined the clothing she had on beneath the skirt. At first glance Cleo seemed to be wearing a pair of hold-up stockings and boy-shorts underwear, but further scrutiny finally revealed what was in fact a pair of hose, opaque at the legs but with an integral pattern designed to give the appearance of close-fitting shorts.

With her thighs wide, Cleo then twisted the end of the pink vibrator, teasing the indented cleft of her underwear, grinning at her husband while the angry hornet buzz of the sex toy droned in the background, its tone oscillating with each sweep.

"Remember me, Malcolm," cooed Cleo, her gaze intent as she stared at the eye of the camera. "Wherever you are, wherever I am, whenever we're apart -- watch this on your computer and remember me. I don't want another man, my darling ... I only want you. I can fuck myself with this..." She picked up the large dildo and held it aloft, thrusting it at the camera. "I can fuck my little pussy with this and you can see it again and again. This is your surprise, Malcolm. This recording will be a little gift to remind you of me."

Keeping her attention focussed on the camera, Cleo kissed the big domed head, licking it before popping it between her lips.

Malcolm sat there, enthralled, his erection barely noticed while he gaped at his wife.

As if he'd need reminding he had a witty, intelligent and beautiful wife, her soul pure. He didn't need to see Cleo lasciviously slurping the rubber cock to know she was the hottest woman he had ever known. Recording the scene was entirely superfluous. But, dear God, seeing Cleo doing what she was doing, hearing her sighs and moans and lewd murmuring affected him on a primal level, bringing out the beast in him.

"I can suck this and imagine it's your cock," Cleo sighed, slipping more of the thing past her lips. Her mouth distorted and her cheeks went concave when she sucked. Her lips smacked off the end when she eased it out, with Cleo's back arching, the vibe tight against her body, tickling her clit through the hose. "I like it," she purred, mushing her lips against the latex cock-head, her stare fixed on Malcolm's slack face. "But I prefer you in my mouth, darling. I like to taste you. I love to feel you on my tongue. Your cock is so alive."

It went on for a few minutes: Cleo stroking the pink vibrator over her vulva while alternating between long, lascivious licks at the fake penis and sucking avidly at it. With Cleo's ardour rising like mercury in the glass she began to thrust the dildo further into her mouth, slurping at it and mumbling lewdly around its girth. She moaned and gasped and squirmed, the sight of her being so wanton bringing a low keening moan from Malcolm.

"You don't need another woman, Malcolm," Cleo breathed, holding the rubber cock in one fist while she stared at the camera. "I don't want another man. I love you, my darling. You're my husband ... You are all I want."

She paused and leaned forward, legs closing, feet going to the floor. Cleo placed the dildo on the chair arm and switched off the vibrator, placing the pink cylinder on the table next to her seat.

She stood, skirt bunched around her hips. Cleo loosened the remaining two buttons on the blouse and revealed her taut stomach and torso, breasts packed into the blue bra. She flicked her long hair away from her shoulders, caressing her body with sweeps of her palms, hands going down between her legs to where she cupped her vulva, grinning at her husband while watching him for a reaction.

"You like this, Malcolm?" Cleo whispered, pouting and blowing him a kiss.

Malcolm's throat worked. "God, Cleo," he groaned, "I ... I ... Jesus."

His wife chuckled, her hands going to her breasts. She squeezed herself, wincing.

"I'm all yours, darling," Cleo sighed. "I'm your wife. You do not have to concern yourself I will cheat. I promise you, I will not. I love you. I am not a prostituta infiel like the others. I will not disrespect you."

The blouse came off. Cleo's fingers went to the lapels and she eased the jacket away.

Malcolm moaned when his wife's smooth brown shoulders came into view. He sighed and shook his head, gazing at her when she posed for him, hands on the butterfly jut of her pelvis, hip cocked, expression questioning.

"You will always be faithful to me, Malcolm, yes?"

Malcolm gulped and whined a reedy, "Yes."

Cleo smiled, the creases melting from her furrowed brow. "Good," she murmured, nodding in approval. "Excellent. You would not wish to lose this, eh?" Malcolm's wife indicated the front of her lithe body with a sweeping gesture of both hands.

Then, before Malcolm could reply, Cleo eased one full breast from the cup of her bra. The man gasped, swallowing heavily before licking his lips, his stare setting fire to Cleo's skin. Malcolm whined when she slowly scooped the second orb from within.

"Você gosta dos meus peitos grandes , não é?" she asked, bringing a blank uncomprehending expression to her husband's face. "You like my big tits, Malcolm?"

"I love them, Cleo," Malcolm croaked, staring. "I love everything about you. Your body ... your mind ... This..."

Cleo blurted a laugh. "Good," she said, nodding quickly. "Think about this if you are ever tempted by some fora, some puta who thinks she can have my man."

Cleo pouted at her husband, her tongue then sliding over her lips while she squeezed her breasts and she taunted him with her smirk.

"Think about my tits, Malcolm. Imagine what it would be like to lose me. If you ever cheated on me..." Cleo cupped the weighty mounds in her palms and presented them to her husband. "Gone!" she yipped. "You would never hold these again. You would never suck them, Malcolm. In fact I would go to the first man I could find and let him have all of me if you fucked another woman. The first man. He might be young or old, it wouldn't matter. I would let him touch me, Malcolm. I would suck his linguiça. I would suck his sausage and let him fuck me. I would take his cock in my pussy and feel him cum. I would stay the night with this man and let him use me. My pussy, my tits and my ass..."

Cleo teased her nipples, plucking at her teats with forefinger and thumb, goading her flesh while Malcolm grunted a promise never to cheat.

"I wouldn't do it to you, Cleo," he gurgled, appalled and sickened by the thought of someone pawing his lovely wife. Malcolm's eyes were huge and round as he shook his head quickly from side-to-side. "You know I've been hurt before. You remember when we met? You know what it was like for me. I ... I couldn't," Malcolm retched. "I couldn't do it to you, Cleo."

Cleo paused and nodded. "Yes, Malcolm," she murmured. "I remember. I just want you to know I hate cheaters, too. I don't doubt you, my darling, but if any bitch ever tries..."

She reached around and unzipped her skirt, hooking her thumbs into the waistband as she turned and presented her profile to Malcolm. In that way, while he looked on in wet-lipped fascination, mouth gaping, Cleo bent and shucked the skirt to her knees. She levered upright, breasts cantilevered over her bra, nipples erect points of flesh.

Cleo let the skirt fall to the tops of her shoes and then stepped out as elegant as a dancer, kicking the discarded material away with a flick of one foot. Turning back to face her husband square-on, Cleo ran her hands over her body, teasing her vulva with both palms. She stretched the waist of the pantyhose with one hand, the other delving into the gap.

Malcolm watched his wife rub her pussy, the material of her hose bulging and squirming like a sack full of kittens.

"My pussy is so wet and hot and itchy," Cleo murmured. She yanked the faux boy-shorts down to show off her bush, her labia visibly glistening through the brown hair. Her fingers slid through folds tacky with desire. She rubbed herself and mauled one breast with the other hand, bringing her sticky fingers up from her pussy to her mouth. She licked each digit clean, sucking at them while staring at her husband's face. Cleo then fingered her sex again, engagement ring and wedding band gleaming on the third finger of her left hand as it moved between her thighs.

"Oh God," Malcolm moaned, rubbing his cock through his suit trousers when his wife turned and presented her pert, impossibly tight buttocks. He groaned and squeezed harder as Cleo bent at the waist, fingers coming back to splay those taut cheeks, her sphincter winking at him while Cleo's labia parted with sticky reluctance, her cunt gaping scarlet.

Cleo's fingers grabbed at her flesh and she held herself wider open, thrusting her hips back and tilting her pelvis to flaunt herself in an obscene display of female genitalia.

Awed by the sight, stunned by the sheer eroticism of watching his wife casually exposing all of herself, Malcolm sat in his seat and gaped at her in amazed wonder.

Turning again, Cleo then fingered her sex and massaged her breasts. Then she lowered the hose to her knees and sat down.

"Ah fuck ... Jesus, Cleo," Malcolm groaned. "God, that's gorgeous."

The sight confronting Malcolm was his wife in the chair, legs lifted with her thighs as wide as she could manage with the restrictive waistband of the pantyhose a band around her knees. Cleo's fingers held her labia apart, the scarlet core of her all hot and glistening. The woman remained that way for half-a-minute, taunting her husband with her sex, teasing him with the lewdest display Malcolm had ever experienced.

Cleo mewled and sighed as she slid a finger over the pink bud and probed at her opening. It was obscene, it was disgusting -- and it was the sexiest most arousing thing he thought he'd seen in his life.

"My pussy is hungry, Malcolm," Cleo sighed, smirking around her leg at her husband. She levered upright and rolled the hose to her ankles, then rummaged in the plastic bag at the side of the chair, pulling something from inside. Next, she reclined and lifted her shoes from the floor once more, legs parting to expose her cerise core. "This thing is too big," Cleo said, matter-of-fact, patting the rubber cock with the flat of her hand before squeezing some sort of unguent over her pussy and massaging her vulva.

"Oh Jesus," Malcolm breathed, eyes fixed on his wife's body as the dildo's cock-head slipped up and down and split the lips of her sex, the folds glistening with lubricant.

"Ugh, oh fuck," Cleo grunted, stomach tensing when she took two or three experimental nudges at her opening. "Ooh fuck," she squeaked as her cunt took a full six inches of moulded latex. "My pussy ... Ooh, this thing is so big." More of it slid into Cleo, the woman gasping while staring rapt at the television, her hands easing the whole length slowly in.

With the dildo embedded completely, Cleo gulped and snorted a long breath out through her nose.

"Aaaah," she sighed, teasing it out until just the bulb remained inside her. "God it feels good," Cleo moaned, her rump shifting closer to the chair's edge as she lifted her legs higher. Her shoes waggled, the taut hose stretched to a diaphanous membrane from ankle to ankle. She was almost horizontal by then, chin on chest as she watched her body accept the terrible length, her pussy stretched by its girth.

Cleo went at it, slowly slipping the dildo in and out, the greasy slide accompanied by a liquid squelching which brought a low, strangled moan from her husband.

"Come closer," hissed Cleo, eyes glazed with lust. "Come and see. Bring the camera."

It took a few moments for the message to sink in, but, eventually, after a good long stare at his wife, Malcolm rose from his seat and unclipped the camera from its mount.

"Here," Cleo grunted, pointing to the floor in front of her. "Get in close. I want you to have this forever."

There followed a full two minutes of Malcolm recording his wife as she eased the dildo into her body, the slow outstroke distorting her flesh, the tissue between her sex and sphincter bulging.

"Ah fuck, Cleo," Malcolm swore. "What are you doing to me, babe. This is too much. I'm going to come in my trousers."

Cleo laughed and taunted her husband some more by repeating the action several times, eventually pulling the rubber cock free of her cunt, her body yawing in an obscene gape for a second or two afterwards.

"Take your clothes off," Cleo instructed Malcolm, kicking her shoes from her feet and toeing the hose away. "Put the camera back and then come and stand at the side of my chair."

It took a minute or two for Malcolm to comply, approximately a hundred and twenty seconds during which there was some frantic and occasionally comedic activity from Malcolm while Cleo fucked the dildo into herself with ever-increasing robustness.

"It feels good," Cleo whined, nose crinkled as she stared up at her husband, expression feral, bottom lip curled over her teeth. "My pussy ... My tight little pussy," she gasped, one hand mauling her breasts, the rubber cock sliding in and out. "Never fuck another woman," Cleo panted, her hand going to her husband's erection as he crouched alongside her. "This pussy is yours," she mumbled. "Never fuck anyone else."

Malcolm boggled down at her, totally amazed at his Valentine's surprise. "I never will, Cleo," he said, the words thick and treacly, clotted with desire. "God, how could I? Juh-just look at you. I love you, Cleo. Jesus, I love you so much...

"You didn't have to do this to give me the message, Cleo. You know how it was for me."

Cleo winced, stomach tensing, breasts rolling as she fucked her pussy with moulded latex. "I know I didn't really need to," Malcolm," she gasped, blinking at him. "I wanted to do it, my darling. I want you to look at this whenever we're apart. I want you to remember.

"Besides," Cleo sighed, "I'm having such a good time doing it, Malcolm. It's so nasty, so baaad. I am a lady in public and a slut for my husband."

The idea came to Malcolm right then. The first inkling about the future he wanted to share with his wife came while Cleo went at herself with the rubber cock and cranked her husband's hard-on with her free hand. It was perfect, the ideal solution to a niggling, on-going, often heated discussion between them. Cleo wanted to work, her career taking her to sites all over the world while Malcolm's business interests were located solely in UK and Europe.

There were hoops to jump through to obtain a visa. Despite their marriage and Malcolm's wealth, the bureaucracy involved was staggering: forms and questions and even then Cleo might be refused. One thing they needed was time to prove they were genuinely, unequivocally together as a committed married couple. Malcolm's embryonic plan vaguely forming while the sweet sensations surged through his cock was to sell the business. He would get out of it totally. He had enough money for three lifetimes -- why stay in? Why not chuck it all, take the money and then enjoy life with Cleo wherever her career took her?

"I never want to be apart from you, Cleo," grunted Malcolm.

His words fell to the floor. Cleo didn't hear them. When the utterance came out of Malcolm, Cleo was using both hands to jam the dildo deep, her orgasm boiling. She squealed and moaned and writhed, one fist working the rubber cock while she rubbed her tight, slippery button.

"I'm going to come," Cleo snorted, knees folded, feet dangling, a hand mauling breast flesh. "Oh ... Oh fuck. estou chegando ... meu Deus ... I'm coming ... God, Malcolm ... I'm coming so hard—"

Malcolm tugged his cock and stared at the ensuing carnage. His wife moaned and writhed, sobbing, eyes squeezed shut, the cords on her neck stark as knife blades as she snarled and spat obscenities, her orgasm a volcanic eruption. Cleo juddered, thighs shivering nerveless while she pawed at her own flesh, red welts from her clawing fingers across her breasts and stomach.

Finally, eventually the chaos faded. Cleo, breathless and shell-shocked blinked at her husband, half the length of the rubber cock hanging out of her.

She sat there, gasping as she blinked at Malcolm, the man staring at her, incredulous.

"Put it in my mouth," Cleo groaned, shifting her rump so she could rise up and take her husband between her lips.

She went at him with her hand and mouth, cranking Malcolm's cock while sucking his knob-end, the dildo still dangling from her cunt.

"Oh shit," Malcolm moaned, his attention fixed on Cleo's labia clinging to the latex shaft, the length of it daubed with splotches of creamy residue, evidence of the woman's state of high agitation. "That was just..." he groaned, shaking his head, expression stunned.