Hotwife Kelly Bundle Read online

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  Kelly’s Summer of Sin by R.C. Curtis

  Kelly Rides a Rogue Wave by R.C. Curtis

  Kelly’s Lost Weekend by R.C. Curtis

  Kelly’s Great Expectations by R.C. Curtis

  Kelly Gets Pooled by R.C. Curtis

  Cover design by R.C. Curtis

  Image licensed from fotolia.com

  First digital editions published by R.C. Curtis 2015. All book shave been previously published separately.

  With the only exception of quotes used for reviews, this book may not be reproduced in whole or in part by any means without explicit permission of the copyright holder.

  This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or to places or events or locales, is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author’s imagination only, and are used fictitiously.

  Contents

  Kelly’s Summer of Sin

  Bar Crawling

  The Beach Party

  Bonding

  The Hike

  The Contest

  Kelly Rides a Rogue Wave

  Fallen Angel

  Blocked

  So Hungry

  Breakfast

  Slut. Slut slut slut slut slut.

  Deliver Us Not Unto Temptation

  Kelly’s Lost Weekend

  Upping the Ante

  Dwane Takes Possession

  The Morning After

  Dwane Displays His Dominance

  Dwane Uses His Possession

  A Parting Blow

  Kelly’s Great Expectations

  Birth Control

  Making a Baby

  Kelly Struggles

  A Call from Kelly

  Shopping with Kelly

  Return of the King

  After Dinner

  Kelly Gets Pooled

  Finishing the Pool

  Guy, Interrupted

  Swapped

  Pooling Kelly

  Passion in the Pool

  Everyone Into the Pool

  Private Pool

  Learning to Swim. Again.

  Getting It. In the End.

  The Limo Ride – an Excerpt from “Kelly’s Confessions”

  The Phone Call: An Excerpt from Ashley’s Dark Temptation:

  See all my books at my Amazon Author’s Page!

  Kelly’s Summer of Sin

  You may know Kelly as my wife, but all the adventures we have had their beginning before we married, on the tropical beach, where I first saw Kelly. I will never forget that day, watching her run along the sand in a wisp of a bikini, long before we married, long before she wore the anklet.

  I grew up in Hawaii, but went to the mainland for university. I came back for the summer, and on my first day back at the beach, I saw her. A few of the guys knew her, but she was a transplant, and had just moved here from Iowa while I’d been at school. She had apparently finished high school this year, but no one knew her plans for the future.

  I said “Hi,” to her, and we talked for a bit. She seemed nice, and not too impressed that I had three years of college under my belt. I asked her out, and she agreed.

  I knew I wanted to fuck her. No surprise there, most men want to fuck Kelly on sight, even now. But the way she moved. Exquisite. Her hips moved with a languid grace, her perky and half-bared breasts held just the hint of a waver when she shifted from one foot to another as we talked. I knew I had to make her mine.

  I had no concept then of how challenging such a conquest might be, nor did I understand how exhausting it would be to try and restrain those wriggling hips under mine, and mine alone. In many ways she was eager to surrender, but a creature born wild sees far, far differently from you or me.

  I discovered by asking around that she had a reputation for being a bit of a flirt, and definitely a cocktease. I thought that seemed about right for a girl just turned eighteen. She sounded like someone who liked to have fun, but wasn’t about to get serious too fast.

  Kelly and I hit it off immediately. I made her laugh, and she made me laugh. She flirted madly, recklessly. Clearly still boy crazy, the kind of girl who has to touch every guy she talks to. Nothing spectacular, just to put her hand on their arm or touch their shoulder. She was incredibly sensual, and so much fun to play with. She was a wonderful kisser, and I figured that was why people thought she was a cocktease, because she would kiss you in a way that you were sure you were going to fuck, but she’d always shy away before it happened.

  I made my first compromise without even realizing it. I knew it would pass, her infatuation with the many beautiful boys that swarmed to the beaches each year. I indulged her, because it made her happy to talk and flirt and to see them long for her in their eyes. When you first let a girl enjoy the desire of another man for her, isn’t everything after that just a matter of degree?

  We explored each other’s bodies. She didn’t want to fuck, but she would do anything else. Her hands would slip inside my shorts, or her mouth would wander down below my belt. She opened her thighs for my hands, for my mouth, and her slowness to actually fuck seemed endearing. I made her come, she made me come. Technically celibate, but…

  The scent of her pussy, the taste of salt on her thighs, the hard pucker of her nipples under a wet bikini top, her eyes looking up at me mischievously as she fumbled with my fly

  The perfect summer.

  The perfect summer with only one drawback: My job.

  I worked as a bartender, which meant I worked afternoons and nights every day but Monday weekends. It meant I had great mornings every single day with Kelly, but when it was time to party, to go out and have fun, those moments we didn’t often get to share. I felt frustrated in that respect, but otherwise everything was good.

  Now, Kelly was a party girl. The drinking age was eighteen then, and she took full advantage of that. Not that she ever intended to get very drunk or stoned or anything, but she just wanted to hang out and listen to music and dance every chance she could. She fit in fast with the other kids on the beach, and she quickly had a group that she spent most of her time with, when I was working.

  A lot of times Kelly would sit at the bar while I worked, but inevitably she would get lured away by her friends and go off dancing. I was too busy to give her much attention anyway, so it seemed like a good thing to me.

  Some of my friends mentioned to me from time to time that she was a wicked flirt, which I already knew, and that she seemed especially interested in guys who were just here for a week or two as tourists. They said they felt sorry for them, because Kelly came across as this wild child, and yet she wasn’t going to give them what she wanted. Her cocktease side seemed to be blossoming wonderfully. Part of me thought this was all good, because anything that heightened her sexuality would move us closer along the path to actually fucking. I would have fucked Kelly on the first day we met, but obviously she was more hesitant about it. She didn’t want to discuss it yet, and I didn’t push her.

  One beautiful thing about Kelly at that time was her innocence. We’d been together a couple of weeks, and one Monday she was unhappy because of something that happened at church. The pastor had pulled her aside, and suggested firmly that she not wear that dress to church again.

  “My white dress, the one with the little lace around the bottom edge,” she said, actually pouting, which just made my cock twitch.

  I knew the dress. I’d only seen her in it once, but it was already my favorite.

  “It’s a beautiful dress.”

  “I know,” said Kelly. “I look like an angel in that dress.”

  I agreed, but I pointed out that if she stood against the light, it was entirely see through.

  “That’s not my fault,” said
Kelly.

  “Were you wearing underwear?”

  “I never wear underwear.”

  I had an image of Kelly standing in the morning light, at the doorway to her church, backlit in this wonderful translucent dress, her always firm nipples poking out, her lean sensual body completely displayed through the hapless fabric. An innocent angel, the calm eye of a tornado of sin that swirled around her. How many men had seen her that morning, and mentally broken their marriage vows? I understood her pastor. Kelly was a catalyst around which male lust quickly clustered. She had to be stopped.

  And yet Kelly was entirely unaware. She was deeply religious, far, far more so than I, and when she wore that filmy white sundress I really think she saw herself dressed in the raiment of angels. She was always, for the rest of her life, oblivious of the impact her body, her face, her physical presence would have on men. She liked male attention, but she didn’t seek to get it through exhibitionism. She preferred to wear as little as possible, but that was for her own comfort, not the entertainment of men.

  “Baby, I can sort of see your nipples through that dress too.” I told her.

  “People shouldn’t look at my nipples,” she said petulantly.

  “They will though.”

  Kelly frowned. “Fuck him,” she said. “He can’t tell me what dress to wear in God’s house. Fuck him, I’m going to wear it again.”

  She didn’t though.

  Kelly didn’t like the idea of people looking at her nipples. Hers were truly beautiful, but more pronounced and perky than she would have liked. She felt they didn’t match her breasts, but they really did, and as she developed physically, they matched her breasts even more. Kelly was slow to reach her full curvature, but the wait was worth it.

  Anyway, about two weeks before I met her, Kelly had been skimboarding along the beach, and as she emerged from the surf, arranging her hair, a man walked over to her and struck up a conversation. Kelly, clueless as ever, chatted away with him for several minutes, until the man finally said goodbye and walked away. Kelly gripped her skimboard, and looked down, and realized that her right breast had slipped out of her bikini top, exposing her taut nipple to the man the entire time they had talked.

  “I wanted to die,” said Kelly. “I wanted to dig a hole in the sand and climb in there forever”

  I pointed out how happy she had made the man, and how beautiful she must have looked, but she would have none of it.

  “I wanted to die,” she said again, and that was it.

  I found the whole story fascinating. Kelly thrived on male attention, she sought it out and seemed validated by it, but not at the expense of showing her body. She wanted male attention for herself, she didn’t want her body only getting male attention. I figured that she was clearly a girl who did not want to be objectified.

  Ah, but if it were only as easy as that.

  Bar Crawling

  We had been together a month, and to celebrate Kelly came by the bar where I worked. Honestly, I had not been tracking it, but Kelly knew and she was pretty happy to tell me about it.

  I still had to work, so Kelly went out with a couple she knew from school, Anthony and Sandra. They planned to do a bar crawl, and told me they would probably figured they would end up at Coco’s which was a quasi-legit dive bar running out of an old restaurant that had gone out of business. Coco’s wasn’t very particular about regulations, and they were one of the last places to close every night. They didn’t have a 4:00 a.m. license either, but that didn’t stop them. I’m not even sure they had a license at all, the whole place was always a little cryptic.

  I finished my shift and closed up shortly after last call. I hadn’t seen Kelly in six hours, and I was excited to meet up with her again. I got in my car and drove on up to Coco’s. The outside lights and the neon sign were off, but there were still about a dozen people in there, and I saw Anthony and Sandra seated at a table, but no sign of Kelly.

  I went over and said hi and asked if they knew where she was.

  Sandra looked pretty wasted. “I don’t know,” she said. “She was just here. She’ll be right back.”

  Anthony nodded, his eyes glassy. “She was here not five minutes ago.”

  They both looked pretty drunk. I looked around. “She in the bathroom?”

  “Probably,” answered Anthony, a little uncertainly.

  The bathroom only served one person at a time, so I checked, but she wasn’t in there. I headed outside, wondering where she had gone.

  I walked around the dark side of the building back to the parking lot. As I moved around a dense bird of paradise plant, I heard Kelly giggle, and I my heart leapt up in my chest.

  Then I stopped short.

  In a pool of light, leaning against a car, stood Kelly. With her arms around some guy.

  I could hear what they were saying, but they were kissing, and I just froze.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  I stepped back, to make sure they couldn’t see me.

  Kelly seemed quite unconcerned about being visible. They were right under the main light for the lot. I couldn’t really see her well, except for her hands around his back, plus her legs. Kelly had on this short little spaghetti strap sundress, the perfect thing for the evening warmth.

  They kept kissing, and I felt awkward.

  They were kissing deeply, long slow soft kisses, with Kelly’s hands around his neck. He had her by the waist, and they were just taking their time. I could see Kelly’s cheeks move, her tongue obviously exploring his.

  They stopped kissing for a moment, and he slid his hands down under her ass and lifted her up on the hood of the car, and then stepped between her thighs. She had such pretty slim thighs. He pressed against her, and they kissed some more. Kelly tilted her head up to him.

  I should have stepped forward and claimed her and argued with her about kissing a guy and it all would have been over in less than an hour.

  But I didn’t.

  Remember how I said it was a matter of degree? I saw this as my own fault. I’d let her flirt, and now it had gone a step further. No one to blame but me, but I would rein Kelly in after this and make sure she behaved.

  I’d been too indulgent.

  I watched them kiss, waiting for Kelly to come to her senses, and tell him to stop.

  They kissed longer, more deeply. I went from righteous indignation to thinking that this was an intimate, private moment and that I shouldn't be watching.

  I shouldn’t have been watching. But watching Kelly kiss another guy awoke a perverse sensuality in my groin. She was so sexy. I could feel my cock awaken.

  Kelly slipped her hands around his ass now as he ground against her. With one hand he slipped the strap off her shoulder and eased her breast out. Her nipple stood out firm and taut. He brushed it lightly, then cupped her breast with his whole hand.

  Now I felt really awkward. You can’t say “Let go of my girlfriend’s breast,” when you have already conceded the moral high ground by allowing them to kiss. Allowing them to kiss while you watch them, uninvited. I began to see how fraught it would be to confront Kelly about kissing a guy behind my back.

  Kelly liked to tease, but this guy was now beginning to explore what I considered to be my property. He lowered his mouth to her breast and began to suckle her nipple. Kelly closed her eyes and leaned back, cooing softly. He slid the other strap off, and tugged her dress down exposing both breasts. His mouth found the other nipple, and he kissed and caressed it gently. Kelly moaned.

  He used his hands to caress her breasts as he sucked her nipples, moving from one to the other and back again. Kelly’s nipples were rock hard, bulging up off her firm breasts. They glistened with his saliva, and she made little soft sounds and he began to nibble on them with his teeth. He would tease one nipple with his fingers, tugging it, squeezing it, while he sucked the other, and then reverse the action.

  The effect on Kelly was remarkable.

  She tipped her head back and lightly held the back
of his head as he grazed on her. He opened his mouth and took her whole nipple in, biting down on her areola, and then dragging his teeth along her flesh as he tugged at her nipple until it popped out of his mouth. He pressed his cheek into her breasts, rubbed them with his face, and every time kept sucking them back into his mouth. He handled them roughly now, keeping her nipples taut and swollen.

  Kelly began to make little jolting movements. No obvious orgasms, but little signs of pleasure bursts. He straightened up and kissed her. She had her arms around his neck. I couldn’t see her face anymore, but I saw the movement of his head as he kissed her. He stepped back, and placed his hands on Kelly’s bare thighs. She shifted on the hood of the car, getting comfortable. They both looked down now. Kelly bowed her head, and he bowed his as well. For an instant I thought they were praying together.

  Kelly pulled one leg up, her foot now on the hood of the car, her heel against her buttock. He pushed in closer to her and she flung her head back. He started to make little short motions, and I realized he was grinding on her. Kelly groaned again, and lifted the other leg, both feet on the hood, her pelvis pushed tight against his.