His name was David. He was about 25, handsome, and had two sleeves of tattoos going down his arms. He brought my wife her car when she came out of the restaurant.
Lunch had gone well. She just landed a new client and I guess she felt like celebrating.
“Why don’t you drive me somewhere?” she said to him, and she hopped in the passenger seat. He was surprised. But it was an Audi A7, black, a sweet ride. That’s one thing about us tax lawyers, we can afford to buy our hotwives nice toys. David nodded. He was into taking this baby for a ride.
She told him to drive downtown, then texted me in the office. “Come on, David wants to take you for a ride.”
“David?” I texted back.
“Yes, he’s nice,” was all she texted in response. All she needed to text.
Yes! I felt that lucky feeling. That jackpot feeling is the best way to describe it. When a cuck’s wife lets him know that “it’s on,” so to speak, it’s like winning a jackpot for the cuck. He knows he has hit the three seven’s or whatever. It’s just a question of collecting the prize now.
I made an excuse to my secretary and hit the elevator. On the way down I thought about this “David.” Who could he be? Where had she found him? What was she going to do with him? I loved this complete lack-of-details stage. Being in the delicious dark with nothing to go on. Just a name. While descending to the lobby, I pictured a faceless bull named David chauffeuring Christina downtown where he would pick me up, then take us to his nearby loft. He was a hipster downtowner. Maybe a painter. I was going to follow them into the loft and…
Once outside my office building, I saw my wife’s car, a good-looking man in the front seat. As I hopped in back, Christina introduced us.
“David, this is my husband, Phil.”
When he turned toward me, I could see that David seemed like a nice guy. “Hi, Phil,” he said in an East LA accent. “Where do you want me to take you guys?”
“I just want you to hit the open highway, David,” said Christina. “Know what I mean…just take the 110 to the 5 and then the 118 and we’ll go through the Santa Susanna mountain pass and I’ll suck your dick.”
“Huh?”
David looked at her, shocked.
“With your husband in the back seat?”
Evidently David had never been involved in a cuckolding encounter before. Christina nodded to assure him she wasn’t kidding. He grunted back skeptically, so I conjured up something to help seal the deal.
“Actually, David, this is how my wife is making good on her threat to pay me back for cheating on her,” I said. At which Christina put a hand to her face, stifling a snort.
“Oh man, I don’t want to punish anybody,” said David, sounding concerned, that nice kid.
By now Christina was cackling hard, shooting down my pathetic attempt to help pave the way to her sucking David’s cock before my eyes.
“Oh shut up, Phil,” said Christina. “Phil never cheated on me. Phil could never cheat on me. He’s mine. Aren’t you, Phil?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Oh, I understood why Christina had laughed like that, with such disdain. To her, I seemed like a total nebbish. Why else would she find the idea of me cheating so patently absurd?
“He likes to watch me, David,” Christina said. “It’s his greatest thrill. He’s what they call a cuck.” That was the buzzword he needed to grasp the scenario.
“Oh yeah!” said David, suddenly warming. He was comfortable now, maybe from remembering some cuck porn he’d read or watched. And his eyes were shining, no doubt with the realization that shortly he would be the center of the action.
His excitement was compounded by the thrill of driving Christina’s car. Out on the 5 freeway, he let loose at about a hundred and ten miles per hour. The Audi A7 was a stick shift, so David was really on a joy ride, now, grinding the gears while weaving in and out of traffic, even letting out a loud Woo Hoo.
What a day it must have been for him! To be driving this car, with this hot female in the front seat about to blow him. Life in Southern California probably didn’t get much better than that.
On State Route 118, he opened up to about a hundred and twenty, as Christina undid his fly and pulled out his hard cock. He was ten inches. When I asked her later how she knew it would turn out to be so big, she replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I saw it going down the left side of his pants leg, dumbass. Cocks like that always have to choose a side.”
My wife had spotted that thing from a distance like a whale watcher with a pair of binoculars scanning the horizon. Both on the lookout for something uber-sized and warmblooded that could rise up and spout magnificently from its blowhole. Christina was Captain Ahab, ready to lash herself onto David’s Moby Dick.
As she started sucking, David accelerated even more, making me a little nervous. Yeah, it was an Audi but this was the 118, not the fucking Autobahn. The roof was rattling like crazy while he was screaming in ecstasy, Christina’s head bobbing furiously over his cock. Peering over the driver’s seat, I saw the speedometer creeping towards a hundred and fifty.
“Jesus! David, be careful. We have children to think of, man,” I said.
“Hey, don’t worry, Phil,” he said between moans while receiving the road head of his life from my wife. “I’m a professional driver — God, your mouth is incredible, woman…ahhh….”
Taking that to mean he was a trained race-car professional, I relaxed. It was only later that I learned that he was a parking valet, which, I guess, is kind of a professional driver.
He shot his load as the A7 hit 180. We had made it to Ojai in about twenty minutes with Christina sucking him off, a drive that took me an hour on a weekend with her and the kids.
“Wooey, that was good!” he said.
He drove us back to Los Angeles with Christina now snuggled against me in the back seat.
“Did you enjoy that, my love?” she cooed.
“Very much, my love,” I said. And we kissed deeply, her mouth tasting of Cabernet and David’s cum.
We were so in love!
David pulled over in front of my building.
“Thanks for the ride, David,” I said. “You go ahead and keep the car. You seem to enjoy it so much.”
“Keep the car, bro’?” David said, his eyes bulging. “You’re fucking kidding me!”
“Christina can give you the title when you drop her off at home in the Hollywood Hills.”
“Phil!” Christina said, shocked. “What’s gotten into you? You’re usually such a cheap bastard. I mean, wasn’t it this past weekend you tipped the valet at Muza fifty cents? You’re giving this one a whole car?”
“Yeah, David, better get out of here before I change my mind,” I said. “I’m guess I was just overcum by the moment.
It’s true, it was the cum that did it to me. The little trail of cum that was dribbling out of my wife’s mouth after she pulled it off his dick. David must have shot a big load, because she’s usually a great swallower. This time, though, there was this incredibly sexy overflow, trailing from her luscious red lips, onto her chin.
As her elegant dancer’s hand rose to her mouth to wipe it off — for a second there it was! Damn! So fucking sexy. I would never forget that little trail of cum.
But to be honest, I kind of wish I still had that Audi A7. Don’t ever make any major financial decisions moments after watching your wife suck off the parking valet’s cock. You won’t be in your right mind, trust me.
David stared at me in disbelief. It was his lucky day. Luckily for me, I had just made about two-hundred-thousand dollars in a stock options deal, thanks to a heads-up from my buddy, Bill the broker. So what did I care about an eighty-thousand-dollar car?
“You can fuck her back at the house if you still have anything left in you, too,” I told him, getting out of the car.
“You kidding me!” He smiled. “I got a lot left for this sweet lady.”
“Aw shucks, David,” said Christina. “You’re the sweet one.”
She was touched. As I left I saw her climb back in the front seat and begin to make out with him.
She took a quick break and called to me through the open driver’s side window with an ironic wave.
“Bye, honey, have a nice rest of the day at work.”
That was funny. I was going back up to the law firm to push some paper around all afternoon. And she was going back to our house in the hills to do who knows what? Maybe they would fuck, maybe they would take a dip in the pool. The kids wouldn’t be home till six — those expensive private schools have stuff to keep them busy till late, thank God. What would my daughter be doing? Oh right, Lacrosse. And my son had soccer. And Christina had her “sport.”
All that afternoon I pictured David fucking Christina in our bed. She probably wouldn’t tell me about it. Sometimes she does that. It’s exquisite, how she carves out her own private time with the bull, and keeps me out of that space. I love that the most, to be honest. To be on the outside, desperate to get in. Isn’t that the height of all heights of passion?
“None of your business, Mr. Man,” she joked to me that night when I asked about it. “You gave away my car! What am I supposed to drive now?”
“Oh, you’ll see, tomorrow,” I said.
The next day my car broker delivered a new Tesla Model S to Christina, complete with a bow on it and a personalized license plate: Xtina!
My darling and extremely hot wife — my Christina!
Read Colt Stevens full length My Wife Has a Boyfriend here
