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Her Husband Watches: Ten Book Bundle Vol 1: (Cuckold, Hot Wife, Humiliation, Voyeur, Interracial, Seeding, Box Set, Compilation) Read online




  Her Husband Watches:

  Ten Book Bundle Vol 1

  By Lainey Fox

  A TEN Story Bundle:

  1) Her Husband Watches: Going Black

  2) Her Husband Watches: Going Black 2

  3) Her Husband Watches: Going Black 3

  4) Her Husband Watches: His Big Black Boss

  5) Her Husband Watches: His Big Black Boss 2

  6) Her Husband Watches: His Big Black Boss 3

  7) Her Husband Watches: The Arrangement

  8) Her Husband Watches: The Arrangement 2

  9) Her Husband Watches: The Arrangement 3

  10) Her Husband Watches: Seeded by the Neighbor

  Copyright © 2015 by Lainey Fox

  & Scarlet Lantern Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  Her Husband Watches: Going Black

  Her Husband Watches: Going Black 2

  Her Husband Watches: Going Black 3

  Her Husband Watches: His Big Black Boss

  Her Husband Watches: His Big Black Boss 2

  Her Husband Watches: His Big Black Boss 3

  Her Husband Watches: The Arrangement

  Her Husband Watches: The Arrangement 2

  Her Husband Watches: The Arrangement 3

  Her Husband Watches: Seeded by the Neighbor

  More Salacious Stories by Lainey Fox

  Want a bit of foreplay?

  Below is just a taste of the explicit scenes to cum!

  “I need you to hold your wife still, she’s moving too much.”

  Laura glanced sideways at Doug and smiled to him around Andre’s member. He felt relieved. As long as Laura was enjoying herself then that’s all that mattered. He stood behind Laura and pinned her chest against Andre. This kept Andre’s length sheathed in Laura’s mouth even when she pulled back as far as she could. Laura struggled to take Andre’s entire length, his cock easily hitting the back of her throat. She gasped and drooled, her tongue caressing as much of Andre’s flesh as she could reach. Her legs twitched and her body fought against Doug’s restraint as she began to cum and her body writhed about. Doug held her down harder, tying to follow his boss’s instructions as his wife came.

  Desiring more, Andre pulled himself from between Laura’s lips and picked up the still trembling woman. He moved her over to the couch. Doug, afraid to do anything that might upset Andre, decided to wait until he was instructed. He stood at the desk, patiently waiting and watching. He wanted Laura to enjoy herself and he wanted Andre to see him as a good employee. Laura was placed on all fours across the mahogany leather sofa. Tony had followed Andre over and replaced the void Andre had left by pushing his dick into Laura’s mouth. Andre grabbed her from behind and teased her with enormous cock. Laura screamed in pleasure when Andre thrust against her, sheathing his entire length in a single thrust. Doug had barely heard the scream from across the room. Tony’s prick kept Laura’s calls to a muffled voice.

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  Her Husband Watches:

  Going Black

  Book 1 of Her Husband Watches: Going Black

  By Lainey Fox

  Copyright © 2015 by Laney Fox

  & Scarlet Lantern Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language.

  All characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  Realizations

  Amy was tired of it all and she had been tired of it all for quite some time. She stayed home with the kids, cleaning the same messes and watching the same shows. She rarely went out with her friends anymore. Her husband came home at the same time every night, ate dinner, watched TV and went to bed. It was same old routine, day after day after day.

  It seemed to Amy that things would continue on this way for eternity. The most depressing part was that she didn’t really mind. She had grown into a content stupor with this kind of life; this kind of routine. Even so, she occasionally daydreamed about all the crazy things she might do if she wasn’t caught up in these particular circumstances. If she wasn’t married she could party every night, go dancing, drink herself silly and pass out in the middle of the living room. If she didn’t have kids she could have wild sex in any room of the house, walk around naked, watch porn on the living room TV.

  Amy’s friends were fine. On the rare occasion that she went out with the girls she felt a little more alive. Amy knew how to cut loose and have a good time, but she also knew that the amount of fun she could have was severely limited now by the details and particulars that she had somehow accrued in the last five or ten years. She had accounts to pay, a body that would ache and obligations the next day. She was twenty-nine but she felt fifty.

  One morning, Amy woke up and decided to do something different; something to break up her routine. Instead of waking up the kids and making breakfast, Amy brewed herself a pot of coffee and went out into the garden to sit, relax and think. Her house was nice. It was big, and very expensive; almost too expensive really. It had so many rooms you could get lost. But somehow, it didn’t always feel like home. She felt lonely that day, sitting in the garden. Her husband was distant, focused on work and the kids. The kids were wrapped up in their activities and friends. There was no room for Amy anymore. In the past couple of months she had began to feel lonely in ways she hadn’t before.

  When Amy met John, he seemed like the man of her dreams. He was handsome, funny, and bold in ways that made her feel safe and special. He was her ideal man. But maybe that was precisely what was so boring about him after all. He was too perfect. He never made mistakes, and if he did, he always knew how to fix them. He simply functioned on a level that seemed, at times, inhuman.

  Staring down at the flowers blooming in the garden, a though dawned upon Amy. At first it was just an inkling, an itch she couldn’t quite translate. But as she sat outside, sipping on coffee and reflecting it grew. Soon it was all she could think about, it was consuming her thoughts and was the most obvious answer. She should do something else with her life, do SOMEONE else.

  Amy didn’t know exactly how she would do it. She had been out of the dating game for so long that the concept seemed foreign. The club was out. While she trusted her friends, she knew that something would get out and make it back to John. Bars would probably be risky as well; too public.

  To further complicate matters, Amy was rarely out and about without her two boys in tow. They were six and eight and their once simple lives were turning into a swirl of sports, schoolwork and activities. They true joys of her life, but she felt increasingly unable to keep up with them, to mother them properly, to give them the kind of upbringing they deserved. She was either too self-aware, or not self-aware enough, she thought, to be a good parent.

  Unable to think of a better solution, Amy turned to the internet. She had heard that you could find just about anything, if you knew where to look. It took a f
ew weeks of searching for sites before she found a handful that seemed to offer what she was looking for. Amy then spent night after night setting up, deleting and then recreating profiles. She really didn’t know much about what exactly what she was doing or what she wanted, but on some dim level she couldn’t account for, she knew it was exactly what she needed to do. There was a craving, a hunger gnawing away inside of her, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself.

  John always wanted to have a very certain kind of sex. He was very loving, and very good at it, but he wasn’t... enough for Amy. He was soft, and easy, and gentle. He found her beautiful, but he didn’t ever seem out to be of control around her. He never WANTED her. The things he did didn’t feel wild or passionate. Their sex was never rough, or uncontrolled. She felt like John couldn’t drive her anywhere near the crazy she was craving.

  They Meet

  It took three weeks for Amy to work up the courage to meet the man she began chatting with. She stood nervously in the lobby of the fancy hotel he had given her the address to. His name was Damien. He was six and a half feet tall, all muscle, and drove an even more expensive car than her husband. His last message before the meeting had said “I’d like to fuck the life out of you by the end of the night.” Amy figured that was just the kind of sex talk men liked to give over the internet before they met a woman, but it turned her on more than she liked to admit.

  “Hello, gorgeous.” Damien said as he approached Amy in the lobby.

  His voice was deep and smooth with just the smallest bit of gravel too it. He wore a sharp suit and didn’t have a hair on his head. He flashed a smile that was bright, contrasting to his dark chocolate skin. Amy could tell just by looking at him that he was dangerous and her pussy grew damp at the thought.

  “Hello.” She responded nervously.

  Amy hadn’t expected him to be so exactly like he said he would be. He was here now with her, alive and electrifying the room. It was almost painful to be in the same space as him, while at the same time intoxicating.

  “Did you have trouble finding the place?” Damien asked, wrapping his arm around Amy.

  “No. Not at all,” she responded.

  Damien smiled his flashy smile again. “Husband’s at home with the kids?”

  Wincing at the mention of her husband, Amy hesitated before answering. “He thinks I’m, uh, out with my girlfriends.”

  “Are your girlfriends cute?” He asked as if he might be imagining having sex with them too. Amy thought that would bother her, but in fact, it turned her on a little bit more.

  “They are. I think you’d like them,” she said in a cheeky tone.

  Damien chuckled. “I think I’d like you the best. No contest.”

  He led her back outside, and they walked slowly down the street to a restaurant nearby. It was a nice part of Los Angeles, and one of the few places where anything was close enough to walk to. Amy had been through the area several times, but never took the time to stop and explore.

  “So tell me about yourself.” He asked in a way that indicated he actually wanted to know more about Amy, and not like he was asking a standard first date question.

  “What do you want to know?” She asked.

  Damien returned to her a look that simply said everything.

  “Oh. I don’t know. I’m a stay at home mom. I sometimes go out with my girlfriends. My husband is amazing but-” Amy rambled before being interrupted.

  “But he’s never really given it to you?” He asked.

  Amy found that Damien had that kind of command of the conversation that black men sometimes had. Like they’d seen enough and dealt with enough of the shitty things in the world that they could just cut straight to the chase.

  “Oh… Umm. No. I guess not.” She laughed a little awkwardly.

  “That’s okay. I know someone who will.” He said with a smirk. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Tell me what you dreamed about when you were a little girl. Besides growing up and fucking a black man.”

  “I dreamed about owning a horsing ranch,” Amy stuttered, unprepared for the question.

  “Really? That’s awfully Midwestern,” Damien chuckled again. “But it’s cute. It suits you.”

  Over their table a chandelier tinkled softly, setting a dark mood lighting in the restaurant. Damien told Amy to order whatever she wanted as the waiter brought out an expensive bottle of champagne and poured them both glasses. It tasted heavenly to her. Amy was used to luxury, but this felt excessive in the best way.

  “You look a little overwhelmed.” He said to her over his glass.

  Amy glanced down, embarrassed. “Oh. No. I’m just not used to this.”

  “Your husband doesn’t treat you well?” Damien inferred.

  “Oh no! He does,” Amy protested in her husband’s defense.

  “But he doesn’t have the kind of intentions that I have,” Damien stated, plain as day.

  Amy was again taken back by Damien’s directness, pausing a moment to weigh her thoughts before answering.

  “And what kind of intentions are those?” She asked in an attempted seductive voice.

  Damien smiled and leaned back. He knew he was in. “Have you ever been with a black man?”

  Amy blushed. She hadn’t, but she couldn’t say she wasn’t curious. Several of her girlfriends had been with black men and they could never stop talking about it. Amy though, never had the chance. She had married too early to have the kind of late twenties sex that most of her girlfriends had the luxury of indulging in.

  “No. I haven’t,” Amy sheepishly responded.

  “Well, cheers to new beginnings,” Damien laughed.

  Damian was smoldering. He looked like a lion who knew he didn’t even need to pounce to get what he was after. Amy couldn’t wait for him to take her.

  “How often do you do this?” Amy asked.

  “Do what?” Damien responded, though he already knew.

  Amy rolled her eyes at Damien’s innocent smile. “Meet a woman, treat her to a good time and then have sex with her.”

  “Well, that’s not all there is to it,” He said with a laugh.

  “It isn’t though?” She retorted.

  Damien sat forward in his chair, placing his chin in his hand thoughtfully. “No. I like a very particular kind of woman. I mean, sure, I get along with all women. That much should be obvious. But what really gets me going is something a little different.”

  Amy leaned in herself, closing the gap between her and Damian. She waited silently for him to continue.

  “Hmm... Can I be honest?” He whispered across the table.

  “Of course,” Amy whispered back seductively.

  “I like white women. In particularly white married women with children. A woman who’s inner sexual deviant feels trapped. Someone, like you,” Damien finished his confession with a wide smile, locking eyes with Amy.

  “Are you saying I’m a MILF?”

  Damien laughed heartily, breaking their gaze. “I like meeting a woman who has real values, a real life, and then seeing how bad I can get her to be.”

  Amy blushed and didn’t say anything. She brought her eyes down to the table and poked at the remains of her food with her fork. Was she that kind of woman? Was she going to let that inner demon out… if it even existed?

  “How bad are you going to be?” He asked, standing up from the table.

  Becoming His

  Damien slid the key through the slot and held the door open for Amy to enter the hotel room. Even though they both lived in Los Angeles, he had paid for a hotel room so that they could meet together discreetly. She didn’t know why he also wanted to be discreet, but she didn’t question it.

  Amy walked to the center of the room and stood awkwardly, not certain of what to do. Now that she was here with another man, about to commit an infidelity, she didn’t know where to begin. She was nervous, and she could feel the guilt swaying in her abdomen. Damien’s large hand fell around one of her shoulders, offer
ing some comfort.

  “Hey,” he said. “What’s the matter?”

  Amy shook her head and didn’t say anything.

  “You’re feeling guilty, yeah?” He probed.

  Unable to muster the words, Amy simply nodded a little. Damien responded by taking her chin in his hand. He looked into her eyes. His eyes were big and brown and had a kind of unknown depth to them that scared her, but also aroused her in ways she had never felt before. This man was dark, scary… sexy.

  “Don’t. You deserve this,” he said, trying to pep up his would be lover.

  Damien pulled Amy’s face close to his and kissed her. It was gentle at first, but that didn’t last long. He was soon rough and controlling. She had never been kissed with this kind of animal energy before, like it was life or death if something didn’t get done. She could feel his big hands almost immediately go from her shoulders to the rest of her body, exploring and kneading her back and her sides. Soon they went without hesitation to her hips and her ass. He pulled her into him, and she could feel his cock already swelling in his pants. The size of it immediately shocked her. It must have gone halfway to his kneecaps.