The Coldest Night of the Year Ch. 01
Date: 10/31/2017, Categories: BDSM, Interracial Sex, Voyeur, Author: magas911, Source: xHamster
The night my wife told me, "Don't wait up." It was about midnight when Clara finally came home. As soon as I heard the sound of the key in the front door, my heart was racing. I tried to look nonchalant as my wife opened the door. I doubt I was very convincing. She scowled when she saw me sitting there on the sofa. "I thought I told you not to wait up," she said. She'd been drinking. I can't say I was surprised by that. She was wearing a cashmere sweater and a short, tight skirt that took advantage of her legs and ass. At some point after she'd left home that morning, she'd lost her bra and I could see her nipples were hard from the cold. She smoothed her skirt and ran her fingers through her short red hair. She was normally perfectly put-together. I'd never seen her looking quite this disheveled. "I'm sorry," I said. "I couldn't sl**p." I had sincerely tried to honor her demand, but I found myself lying awake in bed with a knot in the pit of my stomach. "Really?" she said. She didn't sound surprised. Merely annoyed. "I thought I made myself clear." I waited for her to give me some indication of what she wanted to happen next. Clara walked across the room, passing close enough for me to catch the scent of alcohol, and stood in front of the overstuffed leather chair in the corner. She stood there for a moment, put her hands on her hips, and stretched, arching her back. I watched, still frozen, as her breasts thrust forward. ... The hem of her skirt, already high, rose slightly on her thighs. God, I loved her legs. She was wearing a pair of heels I hadn't seen before. I know every pair of her shoes intimately and I knew I'd never seen these. She looked at the wall, as if watching herself in a mirror, but clearly thinking about what to do next. She must have done this for a full minute or two before she even looked at me. "How was your day?" She asked, without enthusiasm. I couldn't tell if she was trying to change the subject, or just going through the motions. "Busy," I said. "Three shopping days till Christmas. So, there were lots of shopping bags of gifts and d***ken partiers. At least I picked up some surge pricing." "I would have loved to have been out driving today, instead of at a fucking offsite with the other division VP's. Christ, what a bunch of empty suits." She sat down in the chair and crossed her legs. "I left my car at the W, and took an Uber home myself." At least she was self-aware enough not to drive. She was smirking, letting me know she'd just hired a guy like me to drive her home. Was the meeting at the W? I couldn't remember. "Bring me a Scotch and a cigar," she said. I knew better than to ask her if she was sure she wanted another drink. As a life-long non-drinker, I knew it came off as sanctimonious even under the best of circumstances. But I was in no position to do that with Carla. She prided herself on her ability to hold her ...