Hotwives and Husbands - Tia Lascivo - ebook

A collection of six stories about sexy hotwives and the husbands who love them.~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~Wendy Jacobs felt so wild and free. Desired. Feminine.She got out of the car and looked at the front of the house. Saw a sliver of light through a chink in the drapes.“He’s still up,” said Wendy to the man in the car.“Problem?” he asked.Wendy snickered, the sound dark and foul while she shook her head.“God no,” she replied. “You get on. It’ll be fine.”The man pulled a face, lips pursed.Dubious, he said, “You sure?”She nodded. “Absolutely.”He shrugged, threw the selector into drive.Wendy closed the door and watched the tail lights wink as he tapped the brakes at the corner. Then he was gone.“Where have you been?” her husband accused when she got inside the house.“Out,” said Wendy as Robert took a glance at his watch.“It’s two-thirty,” he said. “Where the hell have you been until now? How did you get home?”“Robert,” she said, tone brooking no argument. “Go and get me a drink.”He looked at his wife, the refusal right there behind his teeth. Wendy could see it jammed there, knowing he wouldn’t have the guts to tell her to get lost.Wendy knew she’d won when Robert’s mouth snapped shut and he all but scuttled away to comply with her wants.

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Hotwives and Husbands


Tia Lascivo

* * * * *

Copyright © 2016 by Tia Lascivo

All Characters are 18 and Over



“Hi, boys. Glad you could make it.”

Nicola stepped back a couple of paces, pulling the door open as she went. She saw the interest flash across both their faces when two pairs of eyes went straight to her breasts.

“Come in,” she added, flashing her smile.

She felt the thrill of the boys’ stares on her body. She could see the hunger in their expressions for a brief moment before they caught themselves. It had been an instinctive thing for them. She knew they were hot for her but felt bound by social convention. She was their friend’s mom. It went against the code to hit on a friend’s mother.

Nicola loved the attention. Adored it. Felt herself go squirmy between her legs.

“The coast is clear,” she said. “Joe’s out. And so is my husband,” she hinted. “It’s just the three of us.”

Virgil was the first to reply with a bland, “Hi, Mrs. Landen,” his attention moving up to her face.

Nicola thought he covered it well. If he was thinking anything lewd in nature, he was pretty good at masking it.

A second or two later Art put in a greeting of his own. “Hey, Mrs. Landen,” he said.

Virgil felt Art’s elbow nudge his side when Nicola turned to walk into the house. He grinned at his friend when Art regarded him with round, incredulous eyes.

Holy fuck, Art silently mouthed. Her tits! He gestured with both hands, fingers set as arthritic claws while he mimed oversized breasts.

Virgil quashed a laugh and nodded quickly, suddenly forced to compose himself when Nicola looked back over one shoulder.

Both boys showed her neutral expressions as she called out, “Come in. What are you waiting for? You don’t have to be shy around me.”

“You ain’t fuckin’ shy, bitch,” Virgil heard Art mutter under his breath.

“Dude,” said Virgil in warning. “She’ll hear.”

Art threw a glance down the long hallway. Nicola Landen was gone, moved into the living room further along.

“Virgil,” he said in an excited whisper. “She’s looking hot today, man.” Art rolled his eyes in appreciation of Nicola’s figure. “Those fucking tits, dude…”

“I know,” said Virgil. “I’ve got eyes. I can see.”

“Man, I’ve got the raging horn for her rack. I bet she’s all smooth, too. These old chicks shave it all off. I bet her pussy is bald as your dad’s head.”

“Shut up,” said Virgil. “Come on. Let’s go. She’ll think we’re weird if we stay here, whispering. And stop with the drooling, Art. There’s no way anything is ever gonna happen. You’re a dick if you think anything else.”

“You don’t know,” Art said as they both stepped inside. He shut the front door and added, “The way she’s dressed. Looks to me like she wants us to make a move. She’s beggin’ us, man. Joe’s not here and her husband’s out of the house, too.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Virgil replied.

“Can I get you a drink?”

Nicola looked from one to the other. She was standing in front of the sofa, hands on her hips, the boys sitting there side-by-side, both of them looking up at her with their forearms on their knees. She saw Virgil keeping it together, his face benign as ever. The other one, though, Art, he was decidedly jumpy.

“Soda?” she asked. “Beer?”

“I’ll take a beer, Mrs. Landen,” said Art.

Virgil cringed inside when he heard Art adding, “You look very pretty today, Mrs. Landen. If you don’t mind me saying.”

“Aw, thanks, Art,” Nicola replied. “That’s so sweet.”

To Virgil, the way she said it made Art sound like he was five years old. He could easily crack Art one in the mouth. He wished the guy would just quit with the bullshit. Nicola Landen was Joe’s mother, and Joe was their friend. She was too mature and wise to even think of Art as anything more than a kid. She had to be getting up there towards fifty years-old. Yeah, okay, she had the whole sexy soccer-mom thing going on – pretty and hot – really damn sexy, and she did have an incredible rack. But, cheating on her husband with a dork like Art? No fucking way.

“Joe’s dad never pays me a compliment,” Nicola said with a pout and a shake of her head.

Virgil blinked with mild surprise when she said it. He hadn’t expected that kind of response.

“What about you, Virgil?” was the next thing she said. “Beer for you, too, sweetie?”

“Uh, yeah, Mrs. Landen,” he managed to say. “That’d be great.”

Nicola smiled and nodded and then held up a hand.

“You boys stay right there,” she said. “I’ll be right back with the beers. In the meantime, you think about what I can do for Joe’s birthday. I want his twenty-first to be awesome for him.” She looked at Virgil for several long seconds, then turned her focus to Art. “It’s great of you to come over to help. I’m really grateful to you both.”

As soon as Nicola vacated the room, Art started in with the excited whispering.

“See!” he hissed, tapping Virgil’s arm with the back of a hand. “Did you hear what she said? Her husband doesn’t give her any compliments. That’s a fuckin’ signal, man. That means she want us to fuck her brains out.”

Virgil felt a ripple of arousal of his own. Yes, it could be possible Art was right. The look on her face as she said it seemed to indicate some deeper meaning than the throw-away comment implied.

But he was doubtful. It was too ridiculous to be true. Why the hell would she?

Virgil pulled a face and shook his head. “She’s probably just fucking with us, Art. Come on,” he insisted, throwing a glance at the doorway. “Think about it. She’s married. Do you think she’s really gonna risk this big old house and the Mercedes and all the money to give it up to two of her son’s friends? She might like to flirt a little, and maybe she tells Mister Landen about the guys she has going ga-ga for her – Maybe it’s their thing? But there’s just no way she’d think about getting on with us. Here? In her own house? When her husband might catch her?”

“I still think she’d put out,” Art said, a sulky pout on his face.

“Uh-uh. No way.” Virgil was emphatic. “I’m telling you, dude. She might flirt a little, but she’s only teasing you, man.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Nicola asked.

Startled, both boys jumped in their seat.

“Now you look guilty,” she added, head canted towards one shoulder. “Were you talking about me?” A smirk danced on Nicola’s lips as she handed over two beers. “Here,” she said. “I’ll just get my drink.”

The pair sat on the edge of the sofa, both watching the sway of her ass as Nicola again left them alone.

“Okay,” said Virgil, popping the tab on the can. “Let’s be cool. No more bullshit from you, Art. Let’s just help her plan Joe’s birthday party. Give her some ideas, stuff like that. Ignore the bullshit, okay?”

“I’d give her more than ideas,” quipped Art, a hand pawing his crotch.

“Will you shut up with that crap,” said Virgil. “Fucking hell, man…”

“Is everything all right?” Nicola asked as she approached the sofa. She held a glass of some clear spirit – vodka or gin – ice tinkling within when she gestured towards Virgil. “You boys aren’t fighting, are you?” she asked.

“Naw, Mrs. Landen,” Virgil responded. “Not really. We were just discussing bands. You know, in case you wanted to get some live music together for the party.”

Her face lit up.

“That’s a brilliant suggestion, Virgil,” she beamed. “Shove up. Let me in.”

Nicola moved to the sofa. She turned around and eased her rump in-between the two boys, wriggling her hips to make room for herself.

“There, that’s cozy,” she said on a sigh and a grin towards Art on her left. She twisted her focus to Virgil. “Comfortable?” she asked, easing back to cross one leg over the other.

“Yeah. That’s fine,” Virgil replied. He blinked and swigged at his beer, the gape of Nicola’s wraparound blouse showing almost all of one smooth inner flank of her breast.

“Are you sure?” Nicola said, frowning at Virgil. “You look kind of worried there, Virgil.”

“No, I’m fine. Honest, Mrs. Landen,” he said in response, doing his best to keep his eyes off the exposed flesh.

Nicola nodded and eyed Virgil with some doubt for a few beats more. Then she turned her attention to Art. “You boys are always so polite,” she said. “Always calling me Mrs. Landen. Makes me feel old.” Nicola tinkled a laugh, her free hand going to Art’s leg. She squeezed his thigh, the bright smile fixed to her face. “Do you boys think I’m old?” she asked, her fingers still resting on Art’s thigh as she switched back to Virgil.

Virgil found himself stuck for an answer. What did he say to that? He felt his mouth open, then he closed it again. He repeated the action a couple more times, gaping but still with no words coming out.

Nicola chuckled and slowly shook her head. She smirked, eyes focused on Virgil’s face. “You’re not shy are you, Virgil?” she asked.

“Nuh-no,” Mrs. Landen,” he quickly replied, shaking his head.

“And you’re not, are you, Art,” she added, turning to the other side.

She saw Art’s throat work when her hand moved high on his thigh. Nicola saw the fear on the boy’s face, the power she felt an adrenalin surge.

Art gulped and stammered a no. He gawked at the hand on his leg. Saw her wedding band shine, noticed the sparkle of the big diamond on the ring alongside.

“I didn’t think so, Art,” Nicola murmured. “I’ve heard what you think about me. You’re pretty loud sometimes when you talk, Art. I know what you think of my tits.”

“Mrs. Landen,” Art gasped. “Shit … I’m so sorry. I … I didn’t mean--”

“Oh yes you did, Art,” Nicola cut in. “You meant what you said. I know what a horny young guy might think of an old gal with big tits. And you’re young and horny, aren’t you, Art? I bet you think up all kinds of dirty stuff and jerk off.”

She turned her head again to take in Virgil’s wide-eyed look of shock.

“I know what this perv thinks, Virgil,” she crooned. Nicola held the boy’s stare while taking a sip at her vodka. “But what about you? You don’t give much away. I don’t know what goes on in your head. Would you like to fuck me? Or am I too old? Too married? Does it worry you, Virgil – me being Joe’s mom?”

It was beyond Virgil’s experience. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Not from his friend’s mother. Not from any woman. The casual way she just came out a said it…?

When Virgil didn’t make any articulate response, when he just kept on gawking at her, Nicola chuckled and said, “I’d like to think you boys like me enough to want to fuck me. I know I’m probably too old for you, but I’d love it if you said you found e a little bit attractive. That’s why I wore this skimpy little blouse today, Virgil. I thought I’d give you boys an eyeful of the girls. Maybe get your interest. What do you think, Art?” she asked, shifting around again. “I’ve heard you saying things about my boobs before. I think you appreciate this blouse – don’t you, sweetie?”

“Mrs. Landen,” Art said on a croak. “I … I think you’re awesome.”

Nicola cranked up the wattage in her smile. “Really?” she asked.

Art nodded so fast his bottom lip flapped.

“Fuck, yeah, Mrs. Landen. I … I think you’re the hottest.”

“Would you like to fuck me?” Nicola purred.

The look on Art’s face sent a surge of heat rushing through Nicola’s core. Her insides clenched with excitement. The seduction was always the best. The way they looked when they realized she was going to give it up, that she’d let them stick their long, hard cocks into her pussy, that she’d allow them to touch her. That moment was always sublime. Nicola could see Art was getting there quicker than Virgil. The horny young bastard was close to making his move. He was set to lunge and grope and slobber kisses all over her breasts.

The beast was about to slip its leash.

Virgil could only boggle as he watched Art’s hand moving over Nicola’s thigh. Her skirt was high on her legs, the skin smooth to look at. He vaguely wondered what it felt like to have her skin under his fingers.

“Shit,” he gasped when Nicola Landen moved in close to kiss Art’s mouth.

The next few seconds were unbelievable. Virgil saw their tongues sliding and slipping together. He heard Nicola moan, saw her legs go wide while she squirmed around, her free hand on the bulge in front of Art’s jeans.

Something dark tugged at his vitals while he watched his friend’s mother losing control. He knew it was on, but just couldn’t believe it. She was actually going to take on her son’s friends right there on the couch. She was going to spread her legs for them both. It was crazy and dangerous – for god’s sake, what if Joe or her husband walked in?

Virgil was on the verge of hauling the woman off Art. He was close to yelling into her face, screaming at her about her sanity, about her being blind to the risks. But then he saw Mrs. Landen had broken away from Art. She was looking at him, her expression amused while Art carried on pawing at the exposed skin of her upper thighs.

“Come here, Virgil,” she breathed, mindless to Art as she leaned forward to place her drink on the low coffee table in front of the couch. “Put that beer down. Come here and kiss me.”

She switched from one to the other. Nicola stayed seated between the two boys, first kissing Virgil before moving to Art. As the seconds ticked by, as the heat rose inside them all, the boys grew bolder, pawing her legs and her breasts, cocks at full tumescence inside their jeans.

“Take these panties off,” Art eventually gurgled. He had the flat of his hand pressed against her underwear, the filmy garment packed tight with Nicola’s vulva.

“Are you going to lick my pussy?” Nicola asked, her gaze locked on his face.

“Shit … Fuck,” Art gasped, the full impact finally hitting. “You mean it?”

Nicola’s response was to ease back into the sofa. She grinned at Virgil as her rump came up off the cushion, then smirked at Art while hooking her thumbs into the waistband. She kept her knees together and lifted her legs, sliding her underwear down. When her panties were off, Nicola tossed them aside, then shunted her ass backwards and spread her thighs.

“There,” she whispered, the heat of their hungry gazes against her smooth, hairless pussy. “There it is, Art. You like that, baby? You wanna maybe get down there and kiss mommy’s kitty?”

“I don’t fucking believe it,” Art said on a gasp. “That’s nasty.”

“Go on,” Nicola urged, splaying the folds so she could slip a finger over her clit. “I’m horny for it, baby,” she squeaked, wincing and moaning, chest hitching as she choked back a sob. “Mommy’s pussy’s so wet.”

“Jesus,” said Virgil when Nicola fixed her hot-eyed stare on his face.

“You get undressed,” Nicola said. “Then kiss me while your horny little friend licks my pussy.”

She watched as Virgil, following several long seconds in which he just gawked, stripped out of his clothes. Nicola felt the hot breath zephyr over her sex as Art got down to lap at her pussy like a thirsty dog. She wriggled and moaned, thrilled to be cheating again.

Two of them this time. Two hot, horny guys who were young enough to be her own sons.

“God, I want to suck on that cock,” Nicola moaned, lust exploding when she saw Virgil’s erection. The heat was on her, she felt wild and crazy and free. Nothing was too nasty, nothing too filthy for her to consider. She’d do it all with these boys. She’d suck and fuck them both. They could use her mouth, her pussy, and even her ass. Nicola was hot for their bodies. She needed their cocks, craved their cum.


Forty miles away, in his downtown office, Jimmy Landen stared at the screen, the one in the center of three large computer monitors set on his desk. The picture was perfect. It should be, the equipment state-of-the-art. He could see what was going on from three different angles. Could hear every sound. Each gasp and moan and mumbled obscenity came through loud and crystal. Things worked okay on a laptop or tablet. He used them when he was away on business. But Jimmy liked it best when he watched from his office.

Jimmy flicked a glance at the door. He got up out of his chair, the big leather recliner specially designed for his frame. He moved around the desk and checked the door was securely locked. It was Sunday. There was very little chance any of his staff would walk in and catch him with his dick in his hand. But Jimmy hadn’t made himself a fortune by being careless to details. He only took chances after a long and careful calculation of risk. Being busted by Mavis, his long-standing assistant for over two decades, didn’t feature high up on his lift of fun occurrences. The risk might be near insignificant, but the outcome would be personally devastating.

So he made sure the door was well-and-truly locked before settling back into his seat.

“Yeah, Niccy,” he growled, eyes set on the scene. “That’s my baby.”

At home, his wife was laying it on real thick. She knew what he wanted to hear. Nicola had the porn stuff down to a fine performance, babbling on about being a dirty, nasty cheating slut while one kid got busy down between her legs, the other scrambling out of his clothes.