The Houseguests - Sex Stories

The Houseguests

Chapter 1

I hadn’t been particularly pleased when my husband, Steven, had asked if his friend Kevin could stay at our house for a month. Kevin had apparently lost his job, and the bank had seized his house. He was completely broke and my husband really wanted to help him out.

“No,” I said. “If Kevin can’t hold down a job, that’s his problem. He’s not freeloading off me.”

I didn’t have a problem with Kevin. He was a nice guy, and he was easy on the eyes, so I had always been ok with him visiting. He didn’t have the gorgeous big biceps of my husband, and I’d definitely married the hotter, more successful of the two friends. But he was equally tall at around 6 foot 2, and when we’d relax in my pool, I didn’t mind checking out his smooth, sexy chest. Kevin always had women hitting on him, except when he hung out with my husband, who always took the spotlight. Only after a woman struck out with my husband, him preaching his loyalty to me, they would move on to the consolation prize and go home with Kevin.

My husband was cautious as he continued to probe, seeing if there was any chance of changing my mind about letting Kevin stay. He didn’t want to run the risk of aggravating me and being forced to spend the next few nights in the guest room - but he wanted to test the waters and see if he could convince me to help out his buddy.

I was lying along my white leather couch, glass of wine in hand, my baby blue silk nightgown wrapped around me. My long, tanned legs ...

... contrasted against the white leather, my feet in my husband’s lap. He was giving me a foot massage, just how I liked it. One of his strong hands kneading my sole, the other running lovingly across the top of my pretty ankle.

“Kevin would have to earn his keep,” my husband reasoned, “Doing chores and so forth.”

I thought for a moment. The idea of having the attractive Kevin taking care of the housework was appealing. But I shook my head. The answer was still no.

“He’ll have Peta with him… And she’d have to respect the rules of the woman of the house…”

I smiled as I raised an eyebrow at the mention of Peta’s name. He had my interest.

“Peta from the bar?”

He nodded.

I had never met Peta, but I’d heard about her. My husband, as per my rules, always told me about the girls that hit on him, only to be declined before they turned their attentions to Kevin. I recalled that he’d told me about Peta a couple of months ago. I remember scoffing.

“What kind of name is Peta?” I’d laughed.

Peta had been particularly aggressive in her pursuit of my husband that night, refusing to take no for an answer. My husband had repeatedly declined her until she FINALLY began to flirt with the single, more obtainable Kevin.

“Didn’t know they were dating,” I said. But my mind was already at work. The bitch who - despite my husband’s wedding ring, had chased him anyway, being rejected multiple times - living under MY rules? Aha! I’d have the bitch calling me ‘ma’am’ scrubbing my ...