Hotwife Miami Read online

  Hotwife Miami

  by Jewel Geffen

  Copyright 2019 - Jewel Geffen

  All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Preview: Hotwife Miami 2 - Undercover Cuckold

  Also by this Author

  Chapter One

  “Man... this is a trip.”

  “Hm, what's that?”

  “This place, brother. This is something else.”

  James smiled tightly. “It's only a house, Shawn.”

  “It's not a house, Professor, it's a goddamn palace.”

  “Please, Shawn, try to watch your language.”

  “Uh, right... Sorry, sir.”

  The two men walked through an enormous and immaculately tended garden. Flowers bloomed in lavish abundance – which said as much about the opulence of the estate as the house itself, given the oppressive length and power of the heatwave which was currently engulfing the entire city of Miami.

  It took care and effort to maintain a garden of such size, James knew that much. Young Shawn, of course, was largely oblivious, but James couldn't entirely blame him. The other man couldn't be faulted for having his mind of other things, tonight of all nights.

  They came to the little side door of the house. James reached into the pocket of his trousers and took out the little silver key he'd been provided with. It fit easily into the lock. He turned it and it gave a satisfying click. He was about to push the door open when he remembered the alarm system which he'd been warned about.

  James allowed himself a slight grin. Perhaps Shawn wasn't the only one distracted tonight.

  He reached up on punched the four digit in on the keypad beside the door. The light turned green, and there was a soft buzz. He'd memorized it, of course.

  James pushed open the door and he and Shawn stepped inside the vast mansion.

  Shawn whistled with admiration, turning slowly around as he took in the scope and grandeur of the place.

  James couldn't deny its impressiveness, though he knew they were only in a little side room. The main doors of the estate, he understood, were opened only for large parties and gala events. Tonight's engagement, however, would be a far more personal and intimate one.

  The whole place was empty, it seemed, and it gave him a strange feeling. The lady of the house, true to her word, had dismissed all the house staff. She'd been very clear about that. They were to have the place entirely to themselves.

  And yet James couldn't help feeling like he was being watched.

  He felt it like a tingle at the back of his neck, a sixth sense to danger – a relic of a more dangerous time in the human evolutionary cycle when you never knew when you might be set upon by a pack of wolves or some predator.

  The door at the far end of the hall swung open, and a woman came into the room. Perhaps it was more accurate to say that she swept into the room. She was dressed in filmy layers of gossamer silk that clung to her voluptuous body like wisps of fog, concealing little. He could see the pink buds of her firm nipples and the dark shadow of the hair between her thighs – a rich black that matched the curls tumbling exquisitely about her porcelain face.

  Shawn whistled again, his admiration directed now exclusively towards the approaching woman rather than the immense mansion.

  James frowned slightly at his younger companion, but again he couldn't blame the other man. Hilary Kendall was a sight to behold and no mistake.

  She smiled looked them over for a long moment, a little smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She wore bright red lipstick; it was almost shocking against her pale face.

  “Well well...” she said slowly, looking them both up and down, “you're something to see and no mistake... I'm so pleased you could make it tonight. I've been looking forward to this for a long time.”

  James walked towards her, closing the distance with three long strides. He lifted her delicate hand gently to his lips. “The honor is mine, Misses Kendall. You truly are an enchanting sight.”

  “My my, but you are a gentleman, aren't you?” she said, one eyebrow cocked as she looked up at him.

  “I like to think so,” he said with a smile and a wink, “it's lovely to meet you.” Then he gathered the voluptuous woman into his arms and drew her close, pressing his lips against hers.

  She seemed surprised for a moment at his boldness, but she didn't for an instant try to resist. He knew she wouldn't. They never did. Women like her didn't want to resist. They lived for the thrill of being taken.

  She surrendered to his kiss, her sweet mouth opening to his, her tongue sliding into his mouth as his did into hers. His hands strayed down to cup her bottom tight and he pulled her against himself.

  For a long moment they kissed, seized by a sudden and overpowering passion.

  When he let her go she was trembling, her eyes lit with a hungry fire and her hands shaking with desire.

  Here they were, two strange black men who she had never before in her life met. She'd greeted them in clothing as skimpy and revealing as any lingerie, and now she'd kissed him. The gold of her wedding band shone bright on her ring finger.

  James grinned, and he gave her bottom another squeeze. For him, this was just another night. Just another white woman desperate to have her sexual fantasies brought to life in a way that he husband never could have done himself.

  He'd done such things a hundred times before with a hundred different women. Tonight, however, was going to be special, even for him. He'd been with rich women before, but seldom one as shockingly wealthy as Hilary Kendall. And he didn't usually bring company with him.

  Misses Kendall, however, had been very particular about her desires: two powerful strong black men were to come to her house in the middle of the night and have their way with her. Two men she had never met before, and whom she knew nothing about.

  James had been more than happy to help bring her fantasy to life. He was quite looking forward to it, actually.

  “Please,” she said, her lips parted and her breath already coming a little faster, “the bedroom is this way.”

  The three of them had no idea yet that this night was going to change their lives forever, for reasons that none of them could have ever even begun to suspect.

  Chapter Two

  Hilary led them deeper into the house, then up a long and winding set of stairs to an enormous room on the third floor.

  James would have been hard pressed to call it a bedroom, as Hilary had done. A bed chamber perhaps, or a suite even. To call it a mere room seemed something of an insult.

  It was, however, an undeniable fact that there was a bed in the room, and that the bed was by far the focal point of the arrangement. It was a huge thing, beyond even a king size, he thought. There were gauzy curtains hanging around it, much like the wispy gown she wore herself.

  All along the room on two sides was a large balcony which looking out over the distant glimmering lights of Miami. Huge windows lined the walls. The room felt both extremely open and strangely remote. He felt like he could see all of Miami, but that they were somehow hidden from the city.

  Shawn followed him into the room. The young man was swaggering and posturing, no doubt in an effort to cover up how intimidated he was no doubt feeling. />
  James smiled. That was a good sensation, if he could harness it and bring it into the bed with him. In a time like this you had to have absolute confidence in yourself, total belief in your own virile prowess and capability.

  A bull, they called it. A man who had sex with other men's wives. Someone who provided through the totality of their masculinity a tonic to women too long under-served. Sometimes a woman just needed a good rough fuck to remind her of how good it could be to have sex.

  James provided that. Sometimes he did it in front of the husband, sometimes he did it without the husband ever knowing about it. It didn't matter to him, particularly. His focus was on the women. And his focus now was on Hilary Kendall.

  She stood at the foot of the bed, playing with the top button of her gown. “So...” she said, a bit hesitantly, “how are we going to do this?”

  “Don't talk,” James said, and he took her again in his arms. “There's no need to say anything.”

  He grabbed the gauzy wisps of material and gathered them in his fists. He looked her right in her doe brown eyes and he ripped the gown swiftly and brutally from her shoulders. The wispy cloth – which he had no doubt was absurdly expensive – tore easily in his powerful dark fists.

  She gasped, her eyes going wide with a fearful delight, and she reached her hands up to cover her suddenly exposed breasts.

  James snatched hold of her wrists and pushed them roughly – though not painfully – away, forcing her to expose the beautiful pale swells of her ripe bosom. He bent down and took her firm pink nipple between his lips.

  All of this had been arranged beforehand. She'd said exactly how she wanted to be treated, and he was more than willing to do it. Some women wanted slow and gentle lovemaking, and he could do that. Others wanted it to be brutal and forceful, almost playing at being taken against their will. And he was willing to do that as well – to playact it, at any rate.

  He knew just how far to push to bring her fantasy to life.

  Shawn came to join him, emboldened by the older man's aggression. He pushed his hand between Hilary's legs and started to feel her. It was roughly and somewhat awkwardly done, but that hardly mattered now. It was just what Hilary needed.

  She moaned, gasping and arching her back slightly, surrendering her body to their desires and to their use.

  James reached into his pants and drew out his cock. Hilary gasped at the sight of it, and James grinned. Ten inches of thick black dick tended to get a strong reaction.

  “Suck on it,” he instructed her, pushing her down onto her knees and sliding his fat erection into her open mouth.

  She complied eagerly, taking him fully into her mouth, sliding back and forth and painted wet the length of his shaft. Her bright red lipstick left marks along his cock.

  James reached down and laced his hand into her black hair, sliding his fingers deep in and grasping it firmly. He started to move his hips, thrusting back and forth as he fucked her face. Hilary gagged softly on him, but didn't try to stop him. He'd known that she wouldn't.

  Shawn moved behind them, still touching and caressing her between her legs. “Hm, baby,” he murmured, “shit, that's so nice. Hm, that's a tasty ass. Yeah, I like a woman who doesn't wear panties.” He pushed her dress up over her hips to reveal the round shape of her pale bottom.

  Hilary was naked beneath her dress, and her full-figured body was gorgeous and utterly inviting.

  Shawn didn't waste any time yanking his cock out of his pants. “You ready, baby? You ready for this big bad boy in ya?”

  She moaned hungrily on James' cock.

  “Do it,” James said, “do her hard.” He reached back and helped reposition her so that she was down on all fours, with the two black men standing one on either side of her. She looked up at him with her big eyes open wide.

  Shawn slapped his cock against her upturned bottom and laughed, then pushed it forcefully into her.

  James couldn't see it from where he stood, but he could hear the sweet wet sound of her cunt as the younger man entered her.

  Then he heard something, a click and a whir. James' head snapped around. The curtain by the edge of the long window rustled strangely, moving more than the others. He realized, with a strange sense of forbidding, that it wasn't the wind.

  He squinted into the darkness, and he saw suddenly the glinting of a camera lens.

  All at once a fury overtook him. A camera! Of all the conditions which James insisted on, not being photographed or video-taped was the single most important one. He had a life to protect, and having the truth about his activities come out could be a disaster.

  Still, he wasn't worried yet, in fact, he was fairly sure he knew what was going on. It wouldn't be the first time someone had tried to break his rules. He wasn't going to stand for it. It must be Mr. Kendall, he supposed, sneaking around and trying to take some shots of his wife, James supposed.

  As it would turn out, he was wrong.

  He turned suddenly, his cock pulling wetly from Hilary's mouth. He started walking suddenly and swiftly across the room. “Give me the camera, Mr. Kendall,” he said, his voice low and stern.

  He knew he made an imposing sight, his powerfully muscled black body in all its naked glory as he crossed the room. Still, he didn't quite expect what happened next. The man darted out from behind the curtain. He was slender and dressed completely in black, with a ski mask pulled down over his face.

  Hilary looked up, and she screamed. Shawn blanched, still balls deep inside of her from behind.

  The scream was a sudden and shocking sound, bloodcurdlingly loud. It told James right away that Hilary did not know this man. James was already in motion, however, and it was too late to stop.

  The dark-clad man slipped out through and open window and onto the balcony. James rushed out after him and made a snatch. He caught hold of the camera strap, and for a moment the two men struggled over it.

  The strap snapped and the camera smashed to the balcony.

  A muffled curse came out from under the mask, and James saw pale pink lips in the moonlight, twisted into a snarl. He made another grab at the man, but the shadowy intruder slipped out of reach and flung himself over the edge of the balcony.

  James cried out instinctively. They were thirty feet up at least, and there were hard paving stones below. He thought for sure the man was throwing himself to a certain death.

  He grabbed hold of the balcony rail and leaned out.

  The man was sliding quickly down a slender rope. Before James could even think about following the thin cord snapped and the man tumbled the final six feet to the ground. He landed hard and rolled, but staggered up and hurried off into the darkness, limping slightly as he rushed across the grounds of the estate.

  Behind him Hilary must have recovered herself and triggered the alarm. It set off blaring behind him, a shrieking whine that seemed to claw at the very air.

  James took a deep breath and gripped the balcony railing tight. Chances were, that alarm would go right to the local police station. This place would be swarming with cops any minute. Surely they would understand why a pair of black men were in the Kendall's estate alone with Misses Kendall. He could already imagine the questions he'd be expected to answer.

  He sighed heavily. So much for discretion.

  Chapter Three

  It was the summer of 1989, and it was a hot bastard of a day.

  Scott Chapel shut the door of his battered blue Integra. That car had been through a scrap or two, just as he had. They'd both seen better days.

  He tilted his hat back and looked at the building in front of him. All he could do was whistle.

  In his line of work he'd seen his fair share of ritzy digs, but this was something else. Maybe he should charge extra. People like this probably wouldn't even blink if he doubled or tripled his usual rate. After you crossed a certain threshold everything started to look like peanuts.

  Scott didn't have that problem. He was behind on his car payments and his mortgage –
though only by a month or two, the bank wasn't on his ass just yet. This case, if it worked out, might just put him back in the black. That would make his wife Julie happy, anyway.

  He walked up the path and rang the doorbell.

  The impressive double doors swung open a moment later, and a tall slender man with thinning black hair and a brush of a mustache on his upper lip ushered him inside. “You would be Mr. Chapel, I presume?” he asked.

  “That's right,” Scott said, and slipped his aviators off to put them in his shirt pocket. “And you are?”

  The man – a butler or housekeeper of some kind, Scott figured – sniffed. He didn't seem to especially want to dignify Scott with an answer, but decided that it wasn't worth putting up a fight and answered the question. “Mr. Nevin, sir. I'm the estate manager.”

  “Were you here last night when it happened?”

  “No sir. Misses Kendall requested that the staff not be present.”

  “Really? That normal?”

  “Not especially abnormal, sir.”

  “Interesting.”

  They walked through the mansion, Nevin leading him on swiftly through the chambers and halls of the ornately decorated house. Scott wasn't exactly an art critic, but he actually recognized a few of the paintings and sculptures. He doubted they were replicas.

  “Expensive looking place. What was stolen?”

  “I prefer to leave the details of the matter to Mr. Kendall,” Nevin sniffed.

  “Sure.”

  They came eventually to a large office, a study on the first floor at the back of the house with a wide round wall. It reminded Scott of pictures he'd seen of the oval office in the White House. He couldn't help but wonder if the resemblance was intentional.

  A man in a finely tailored suit sat behind the massive oak desk which dominated the room. He looked like a normal-enough sort of guy, maybe thirty-five years old, with slicked-back black hair and clean-shaven features. He had intense gray eyes that flashed around the room, and seemed to take in everything about Scott with a glance.

  The effect was just a little chilling.