I Love Your Wife Part III: Minnesota

Traveling to Minnesota Jake hooks up with his oldest lover who had planned a romantic interlude with him…and her husband. Minerva had complete control over her husband’s sexuality, because that’s Harry’s particular kink, but sometimes she likes to have plain, vanilla sex with what she thinks of as a real man…and that’s Jake. And Jake is always—always—willing to bed a married woman.

Jake finds all types of women attractive, but for him to have real interest in one, she had to have one singular quality he finds irresistible: she has to be married. Sex with another man’s wife is his kink and it’s the only way he can really enjoy himself. He’s found it surprisingly easy to bed married women, usually because they don’t get the attention they need at home with their husbands.

This is an 11,000 word novelette intended for adult audiences. Part three of five.

Content warning: This story features graphic sex, cheating spouses, sex with multiple partners, cuckolding, enforced male chastity, and other explicit depictions of adult sexuality. Explicit language and adult only content.

Excerpt:
Minnie was the first married woman I had sex with. We were both going through initial training at the company I still work for (she changed jobs years ago) and were seated next to each other. I commended on what I thought was a flashy anklet that she was wearing, gold with a series of bangles hanging from it.

“I used to know a girl who wore an anklet like that in college,” I told her. “She was a big deadhead, way too many years too late to be a proper hippie. Everyone in my dorm would make fun of her because we could always hear her coming.”

Just the way Minnie gave me a private smile and said, “I like it when people can hear me coming,” made me excited despite the fact she was almost ten years older than me. I was fresh out of college and she was way too worldly for me. She laughed lightly at what was supposed to be a joke, but she wasn’t kidding around.

I laughed along with her, not knowing the joke. “It’s very pretty though,” I commented and started to reach out my finger to run it along the fine gold chain around her ankle. She was leaning back in her chair with a foot up on her knee. The leggings she wore just barely covered her calves and her ballet flats exposed a huge amount of skin on her lower legs. She didn’t stop me when I was about to touch her; I stopped myself, remembering I was in an office, not a college dorm.

“Thank you,” she said, receiving the compliment. “My husband gave it to me.”