Foxy

It was a warm summer afternoon when Nix returned from a day of shopping in Cambridge with her best friend, Louise. They'd popped into her favourite boutique she had found recently before heading out for a lazy lunch, where one cocktail had turned into two, and then three. Slightly tipsy from the indulgence, she kicked off her sandals at the door, the soft thud echoing up the hallway. Nix made her way upstairs to drop off her bags, intending to slip into something lighter and a touch more comfortable.

Upstairs, she pushed open the bifold doors onto the Juliet balcony in our bedroom, letting the cool evening breeze drift in and sweep over her. As she did, she heard my voice from outside. At first, she assumed I was on the phone until she looked down over the balcony and realised I was deep in conversation with a man she didn't recognise.

She paused. Rather than changing into her usual lazy vest and soft cotton shorts, she unhooked her bra from beneath her shirt with practised ease, tugging it out through a sleeve, sighing at the relief as her breasts relaxed beneath the fine fabric. She left her jeans on, redoing the top button after a little tug to pull them snugly back onto her hips and over her curvy arse. Barefoot, she padded back downstairs, curiosity already stirring about who I was talking to.

Joining us in the garden. I was catching up with a guy called Jason, someone I'd bumped into at work recently. He'd been felling a tree nearby, and out of nosiness, I'd wandered over for a closer look, thinking I recognised him. Turned out I did we'd gone to school together. We'd had a laugh, shared a few memories, and I'd invited him over to give me a quote... and a cold beer.

"This is Jason," I said with a grin, recalling old school days. "We were in the same year."

Jason stood to acknowledge Nix.

"A gentleman, I see," she joked.

A plain white T-shirt hugged the bulk of his chest and arms, biceps and triceps taut beneath the cotton. His jeans were sun-worn, dusty at the knees, and his Timberlands carried the honest scuffs of a man who worked with his hands. There was an effortless masculinity about him quiet, capable, and unbothered by money or the estates he worked on.

Nix smiled softly. "That's nice, love," she said, tone light, but I didn't miss the way her eyes gave him a slow, measured once-over. Appreciative. Not overt, but there. A flicker of something.

A moment later, she muttered something about suddenly feeling like she needed a Diet Coke break and slipped back inside. I thought nothing of it. Nix had always been cheeky flirtatious.

In the kitchen, she indulgently popped the cork on a bottle of champagne. She was still feeling frivolous. Spontaneous. She poured herself a generous glass and took a seat at the breakfast bar, the bubbles tickling her lips as she sipped.

Her gaze wandered. My laptop sat where I'd been working before Jensen had come round, still open. Her eyes wandered to the screen. Something among the folders caught her attention.

For a moment, she hesitated. Was it merely the heat of the day? the alcohol?... or was she still distracted by the lumberjack in the back garden? But the name stood out, unmistakable among the others. There it was again "Naughty Vixen."

She blinked. "It can't be..." Her voice was a whisper, barely audible even to herself. But as she leaned closer, the names of the folders confirmed it. The Horny Housewife. Me and My Three Boyfriends. And The Naughty Vixen.

Her pulse gave a little jump. Why did I have such a file? Her hand hovered over the touchpad intrigued. She hesitated. This was private. She knew she shouldn't. But still curiosity got the better... she clicked.

She skimmed past the first page it was just full of descriptions and backstory. Then the second unfolded filthy, shameless, and deliciously detailed.

The "naughty vixen" was fearless and unashamed... One tale described her pleasuring two men for the first time, striding in wearing a short skirt with no knickers, settling onto a leather chair with legs wide apart, and letting her skirt rise high enough to reveal her soaking, eager pussy.

Nix read on, utterly mesmerised. Before long, she'd become distracted, her hand slipping between her thighs, rubbing the seam of her jeans. She popped the top button, fingers slipping beneath the waistband, finding herself already slick and aching utterly soaked and desperate.

Suddenly my voice broke through from outside, offering Jason another beer. My voice was clear, close even loud intruding on her moment. Panicked. Flustered. Nix undeniably aroused and turned on in a way she hadn't expected darted upstairs. But something had already taken hold. If I wanted a "naughty vixen," I'd bloody well get one. And maybe... just maybe, Jason would too.

Upstairs in our walk-in wardrobe, she rummaged for her shortest skirt, carelessly throwing items of clothing onto the floor until she found it, tossing it onto the bed. Next came the top but she knew which one she wanted: her black halter top. I'd always liked it. The fastening was around her neck the tighter it was, the more it hugged every inch of her gorgeous curves. Normally, she'd wear it with a strapless bra, but not today. Today, she wanted to feel every touch, every move of the fabric.

Standing before her vanity mirror, Nix sifted through her makeup drawer, brushing aside anything that didn't match her wicked mood. With quick, confident strokes, she applied dark eyeliner, a quick curl of her eyelashes before applying mascara, then finishing with smoky eyeshadow and a slick, glossy red lipstick that made her lips look utterly devourable. A smirk in the mirror what stared back was no longer my sweet wife. She was her. The vixen I'd written into existence on a word document.

Then, with a sultry calm, she peeled off her tailored shirt and let it fall to the floor. Her hands dropped to her waistband, hooking her thumbs in. With a little shimmy, her jeans and thong were around her ankles. She kicked them aside without a second thought. The very idea of knickers hadn't even crossed her mind; the story had already decided they were redundant.

She pulled the halter over her head and tied it tight, the fabric straining, tugging across her nipples. Then she slid into the tiny skirt, smoothing it over her bare hips. It was so short it barely covered anything. A pair of shiny black Louboutin heels completed the look of a woman who possessed legs for days making her stride unmistakable, with an attitude to make any man weak at the knees.

Downstairs, Jason and I were on the sofa, watching the Olympics, each of us with a beer.

"Women's rugby was decent," Jason said, "but the volleyball..."

I opened my mouth to reply, but then I heard it the unmistakable click of high heels on hardwood. Intentional. Seductive.

I turned. There she was.

"Alright, love?" I asked, voice cracking slightly.

She didn't answer. Her walk was pure confidence, hips rolling, legs long and bare beneath that wicked little skirt. Jason straightened slightly, unsure whether to look away or lean in.

She passed in front of us, flicked off the telly, then ran both hands up into her hair, tying it into a high, tight ponytail.

Jason glanced at me. I raised a brow in silent acknowledgement, confusion mingled with intrigue. I said nothing to him. Just gave the smallest shrug, as if to say Let's see what happens.

"Nix, darling, what are you...?" I began, but she pressed one finger to my lips.

Still silent, she lifted her skirt slowly, teasingly, inch by inch, revealing the soft skin of her thighs. Just as the bare curve of her pussy was about to show, she turned and repeated the motion. She bent at the waist, hands to her knees, giving us the full view raw, obscene, breathtaking.

Bending forward at the waist, with her hands resting on her knees like a naughty secretary retrieving a dropped pencil, letting the skirt ride up over her arse cheeks. Her glistening pussy was now fully on display shaven, swollen, irresistible.

Then Nix straightened slowly and seductively, hands behind her neck. She undid the halter neck and let it fall. Her tits tumbled free, full and heavy, nipples erect. She turned to show us, unveiling her perfect, tits nipples hard, proud, aching to be touched.

I was frozen. Then she met my gaze and I knew. This wasn't teasing. She was offering herself. To both of us.

Jason looked at me again. I gave him a nod. No hesitation. He understood.

She stepped forward once more, positioning herself between us one leg seductively resting between Jason's thighs, the other between mine. Leaning forward, she pressed her ample bosom together soft, jiggling, flawless and the rich, expensive scent of her perfume hit me Familiar and lethal.

I reached up and cupped her breast, running my tongue over her nipple before taking it in a firm suck. A soft moan escaped her lips.

Jason followed, his hand sliding over her arse, then up to her other breast his rough palms grazing her skin like fine sandpaper, rugged and coarse, a stark contrast to mine. His mouth found her nipple, teasing it with a slow hunger until she trembled. Her skirt was discarded. She wore nothing now but those heels.

Squeezing her calf, I trailed my hand slowly up her long, shapely leg, until I reached her entrance. Rubbing it firmly, I discovered just how wet she already was. Slowly standing, with better access to her clit, I massaged it in slow, teasing circles.

Meanwhile, Jason, still balanced on the sofa, placed one firm hand on her stomach pinning her in place while the other smacked her arse. With nowhere to go, the impact made a delicious sound, his large rough hands leaving a red mark behind. Each slap was perfectly judged just enough to make her gasp in anticipation, the next one wringing a cry of pleasure from her lips.

I slipped a finger inside her, feeling her pulse quicken with every throb. Her legs trembled as we explored her body together, lost in our own erotic choreography, each touch discovering what made her coo. She was still trembling when she dropped to her knees.

Nix undid my belt, tugged down my jeans and boxers. My cock sprang free, hard and waiting. She took me in, her lips soft and wet. Her hand worked my balls with practised care.

Gently, I tugged her ponytail, and she looked up, our eyes locking I savoured the sight of her mouth working on me. Jason shifted behind her, partly out of her view. Now in the moment Her focus remained.

Then Nix hand reached behind, blindly searching. I noted that Jason had already pulled off his jeans. Ever the rugged specimen, he'd gone commando. His cock landed in Nix's palm with a weighty thud, and for a moment, she froze--startled by its sheer size. But then her fingers curled around it, slowly caressing up and down its thick, heavy length, drawing a low, approving sigh from Jason.

"Mmm, yeah slowly pump that cock," Jason murmured. I caught his eye, mouthed, It's Nix. A flicker of surprise crossed his face.

Use her name. Nix.

A knowing smile. A nod of silent thanks.

Then, his voice dropped lower thicker, darker. "Nix... pump it for me nice and slow." It worked like magic.

Nix turned her head slightly, curiosity piqued, eyes widening as the name landed. My jaw dropped slightly. His cock was fully erect now, the head slick with pre-cum, and her hand moved with hypnotic rhythm smooth, deliberate strokes pulling the skin right back over the thick, swollen shaft.

"You naughty girl, Nix," he murmured, the words sending a shiver through her, fuelling her growing confidence.

I'd heard the rumours about Jason back in school... but seeing it now, watching my stunning wife wrap her fingers around that big dick it was something else entirely. It was a sight to behold my wife on her knees, wedding ring flashing as she worked him with skill and hunger. A twisted mix of jealousy, pride, and raw arousal surged through me. I leaned forward, My voice low, edged with command, I said, 'Let me see your pretty face while you suck his cock.'"

Nix paused for just a second, then took me deeper, lips tight around my shaft, her hand still pumping Jason's with steady determination. She was stalling--looking up, somehow slightly shy, a little bit coy. Breathless and dazed, she grinned and confessed, 'This is mad... I only found out about your little kink minutes ago--and now you want me to...'

But it was inevitable. Irresistible Curiosity got the better of her Nix had to switch.

Squatting in front of Jason, she took his cock in both hands, licking the bead of pre-cum from the tip before sliding her lips over him. She began sucking slowly.

I watched, mesmerised, as her lips stretched wide around his thick length. "Fuck... I didn't know you had it in you," I said, unable to tear my eyes away.

Nix tried to deep-throat him but couldn't take it all. So instead, she focused on the head, sucking with intent while her hands pumped the thick shaft in eager, steady strokes. Then something I'd never seen her do she spat on his cock, her saliva dripping slowly down the length. She followed it with her gaze, then leaned in and licked the underside from base to tip in one slow, deliberate sweep. Dropping lower, she took his spit-slick balls into her mouth, causing Jason to moan softly. Her hands roamed over his abs, chest, and thighs with raw hunger each touch stoking the fire already raging inside me.

I could picture the fantasy unfolding in her mind Jason transformed into a rugged lumberjack, a mountain man holed up in a remote log cabin, a fire crackling beside them while snow fell outside. Naked. Primal. Tangled together on a bearskin rug.

Jason's moans loudened pulling her back to the present as he guided the rhythm, his breath catching and hips twitching. He was close.

She pulled back at the perfect moment, wrapping both hands around him and jerking with purpose. He came hard, splashing across her chest as her lips curled into a wicked grin, taking every drop as though it were earned. Slowly, she licked the length of his cock before turning to me with deliberate intent. "You're next," she purred.

She devoured me effortlessly, her mouth moving in perfect sync with her hand wrapped around the base of my cock, bringing me to the edge. My groan was all the signal she needed. Leaning back, Nix only needed one hand for me, unlike Jason, who'd required both of hers, leaving her free hand to pinch her nipples as she smeared Jason's cum across her breasts and skin. I added my own load to the mess, across her face, her tits, and her belly. But she didn't stop. With slow, sensual strokes, she licked me clean, savoring every last drop, finishing with one final, deliberate flick of her tongue that made me shudder.

Afterwards, she turned back to Jason and gave him one last, languid suck before kissing him gently and pulling away smirking, proud, utterly radiant.

Jason turned to me, breathless and wide-eyed. "Mate... you're the luckiest man alive." I simply nodded.

Still in those black heels, Nix rose and stepped towards me, playfully smacking the tip of my cock. "You are a very naughty boy," she teased. "Next time, maybe try password-protecting your dirty little stories."

With that, she strolled back into the kitchen, her hips swaying, cum glistening on her skin like warpaint. Naked, she elegantly crossed her legs as she settled at the kitchen bar and opened the laptop.

Nix's eyes scanned my folders with deliberate interest, and her lips curled into a knowing smirk.

She was already choosing the next one.