I got up and took off my coat, which I handed to Lizzie. She automatically went to hang it up, and I turned to Don.
“Coffee.” I demanded. “You’ll know how Cheryl takes hers. I like mine strong, with a dash of milk, no sugar. Off you go.”
He grinned, knowing that here was a woman used to issuing her demands, and having them obeyed instantly, and to the letter. He trotted off happily to do as he was told.
Lizzie watched him go and said, “I’m off then, Cheryl. I have a date with my Mistress tonight. I am due my weekly maintenance spanking, and then I’m hoping to get myself well and truly fucked!”
Cheryl wished her a good afternoon and told her she’d see her in the morning. She locked the front door after her and came and sat back down. She looked at me expectantly.
“Now then,” I smiled, “You want to be a Hot Wife? Well, as you so correctly assume, you’re talking to one of long standing. It’s a fantastic lifestyle, but not one that can be flirted with. If you’re in, you have to be in one hundred and ten per cent. And both parties must agree. The lifestyle of a Hot Wife and her cuckold is totally different from the swinger lifestyle, for instance. If you’re swingers, both of you get to fuck other partners. The lifestyle you are contemplating means that you decide how much sex your cuckold gets. If any at all.”
Cheryl nodded her understanding.
“We’ve had sex, obviously,” she said, blushing in a very attractive way. “It’s just that Don can’t keep it up long enough to pleasure me. He puts it in, jiggles about for about two or three minutes, cums and then he’s out of action for hours. It’s so frustrating.”
I smiled at her.
“Now you know how those boys in school felt all those years ago when you used to flash your tits and arse at them,” I grinned, and Cheryl blushed again.
Before she could respond, Don returned with a pot of delicious smelling coffee on a tray, complete with what looked like two cups and saucers of the salon’s best bone china crockery, together with matching milk jug and sugar bowl. He was out to make an impression, so there was none of the bog standard supermarket mugs on display today.
“Very nice,” I told him approvingly. “You can be mother and pour for your wife and me.”
Don did as he was told, handing each of us a cup of perfectly brewed coffee. He hovered, offering milk and sugar, and when we were satisfied with our individual drinks, he made to go out again, leaving us to chat.
“Don’t go,” I called after him. “Your input into this conversation is vital. Get yourself a cup, and join us.”
He reappeared a few moments later, carrying one of the aforementioned bog standard supermarket mugs. I nodded approvingly, and he blushed with pleasure.
“OK,” I began, “I’m happy to give you both some insight into the Hot Wife lifestyle that I live. It’s not a hard-and-fast rule, but I base my lifestyle on consent. Richard, my cuckold, knows everything, and consents to me doing it. He and Isaac, my boyfriend, are very good friends.”
“That sounds perfect,” Don said, sipping his coffee. “I recognise my shortcomings, and I want Cheryl to have a satisfactory sex life.”
He paused.
“There’s also the fact that I find the thought of her having sex with another man exceptionally thrilling.”
He blushed, and Cheryl took his hand, smiling at him.
“Even if I do manage to get a boyfriend, I’ll always come back to you,” she said softly. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything before.”
She looked at me in confusion.
“Am I being a hypocrite?” she asked.
“Not at all ” I reassured her. “I love Richard dearly. But nature dealt him a cruel blow when she gave him a cock. It’s barely three inches long fully hard, and it’s as thin as a piece of string. I need filling and stretching. So I have sex with my boyfriend.”