Easy
A Hotwife Fantasy

by Jason Lenov

David's career is just starting to take off when Andrea announces she wants to start a family. During a work dinner David watches his boss make a pass at Andrea. Andrea's eagerness to explore the boundaries of their marriage shocks David as much as it thrills him. The couple plunge down a rabbit hole of lust and passion. David grapples with his desire to see his wife with another man despite the risk that entails. Will he surrender to his needs, even with the future of their family at stake?

Chapter One

To call my rise at Siren meteoric would have been immodest but not inaccurate. It took all of three months between being hired to having drinks with Tom Pollack, founder and CEO, on his penthouse balcony thirty stories above the city.
Andrea had been as incredulous as I was cocky during the whole wild ride. I felt a certain masculine pride at having made such an impression and advanced so quickly. It was what good men did, at least in my mind. Secure their success so that they could start a family in comfort and provide for their wives.
Call me old-fashioned but that’s the way I was raised.
I still remember the smile Tom flashed me as our glasses clinked. “You give damn good copy, David,” he said before taking a deep breath of icy mid-February air and downing half his scotch. “I’m surprised you haven’t been snatched up sooner.” “I’ve had a few offers before this,” I admitted, indulging my pride. They’d been modest but Tom didn’t know that. “I was really trying to wait for the right one to come along.” I took a healthy swig from my own glass.
Tom nodded. “Well we’re lucky to have you aboard, David. Lucky to have you aboard.”
I wasn’t sure what to say in response to that. In fact, I was still a little uncomfortable at having been invited to their apartment in the first place.
Tom had started his ad agency, Siren, in the nineties. He’d had a good enough team to make the transition to digital and had done very nicely for himself. So nicely that he rarely took an interest in the day-to-day operations of the agency.
Which only doubled my vanity at the interest he’d taken in me. I glanced over my shoulder and looked inside at the elegantly furnished penthouse.
Andrea was standing with Tom’s wife, Bridgit, martini glass raised in her slender hand, cheeks slightly red from the effects of her second cocktail. Even the somewhat plain and rather conservative grey wool dress she was was wearing outlined her pleasant curves in a very eye-catching way.
I couldn’t help but smile at my good fortune. A beautiful wife, a promising new job, hob-nobbing with the boss on a frigid Saturday evening.
“She’s quite a woman.”
For a moment I wasn’t sure whether Tom was referring to his wife or mine. It was only when he flashed a knowing smile and nodded in Andrea’s direction that I understood he was referring to her.
“Thank-you, sir,” I said, still a little ill at ease at calling him by his first name.
“I told you, David, call me Tom. We’re friends now. I plan on watching your career with great interest.”
I smiled. Tom was the sort of man you didn’t say “no” to. Whether it was calling him by his first name or anything else he might ask. He exuded the confidence of a man who always knew what he wanted and one who would do anything to get it. “Thanks, Tom,” I muttered, feeling a little sheepish.
Tom smiled again.
Bridgit was no eye-sore either. Despite being in her early fifties, she had the sort of body that made men look twice. Full breasts, a pleasantly protruding ass and toned calves which she made no effort to hide even in this cold weather. She was gesticulating with one hand which came to settle on Andrea’s shoulder.
Andrea started chuckling, presumably at whatever joke Bridgit had just made.
“Tell me, David,” Tom said, before slugging back the second half of his drink. “Where do you see yourself in five years?”
The question put me in a slightly awkward position. The truth was that I had every intention of starting my own ad agency. I’d done well in school and every mentor I’d had said that I was clever enough to have exactly the sort of career I wanted. The only thing standing between me and the vision of myself I’d dreamed up was my own ambition and money. Because, contrary to popular belief, you didn’t make it in this world without having some money to get started with. Still, I was a little reluctant to share this with Tom, not wanting to sound too sure of myself.
“Come on, David. Don’t be shy. We’re friends, remember?” he prodded.
“Well, Tom,” I began. I took another swig of my drink. For courage and to brace myself against the stiff winter breeze thirty stories up. “To be perfectly honest I’d love to have my own agency someday.”