Never Too Late to Play: The Profile 1

We pick up on Julianna and Stephen a little after the incidents of "Awakening." If you didn't read that one yet, definitely go back and check it out. It's not 100% necessary, but will give this all a lot more context.

This one's designed to be a slow burn. Not everyone's cup of tea (and don't worry, there will be faster, more hard-hitting books down the road). One of my dreams is to create a book series that someone new to the hotwife fantasy could pick up, read, and glean some greater understanding. Not sure if I'll be successful, but it's always a fun challenge.

Enjoy! And as always, leave comments and feedback. Let me know what you like, what you'd like to see, etc. This one's very much a work-in-progress. I haven't even finished the next part as I post this, which is very uncomfortable for me!

Chapter 1

“How about, ‘Looking for intelligent and attractive men to have a discreet, no-strings attached relationship with.’”

“Uh, no. That’s not me at all,” Julianna said with a laugh.

“It’s a starting point. We’re workshopping it.”

Julianna was chopping vegetables at the counter. Stephen was on his computer, composing a profile for her on Ashley Madison. “You’re workshopping it,” she said. “I’m preparing dinner.”

About a month had passed since Phoenix, and Stephen was increasingly eager to push the hotwife thing. He got like this about new pursuits—even went through a board game phase a few years back, acquiring games of escalating complexity and making Julianna try them out with him. She finally had to tell him that she wasn’t interested. He took it well, but the hobby stopped after that, and they were still receiving Kickstarter fulfillments.

That level of enthusiasm was one of qualities that drew her to him back in the day. She got excited when he did. Early on, before they had much money, they hiked and camped all over the place, and she still had amazing memories. He could be like a kid just before Christmas, eager, speculative, obsessed.

It was also sometimes kind of annoying. That was the way when you knew someone for so long. She was trying not to let this new hotwife thing get to her, but it also came laden with doubt and insecurity.

Was she not good enough for him? What kind of woman did he think she was that she’d just have sex with other men after years of being monogamous? And also, maybe, he was just angling this to be some kind of swinger thing and sleep with a younger, tighter, sexier woman.

“I think those onions are minced enough,” Stephen said softly behind her. He touched her arms, pressing up behind her.

Julianna looked down at the cutting board, where she’d been taking out her angst on the poor Vidalia.

“Oh, right.” She laughed to herself.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

She turned in his arms, leaning back against the counter, and looked up at him. He was such a handsome man. She’d always thought that, even when he was just “her brother’s best friend.” She knew she was biased, but thought he looked better now than ever. She liked his current look—shaved head and graying goatee. She liked the way he’d filled out over the years, with muscle in his arms and shoulders… and some extra padding around his waist. Even that, she kind of liked.

It wasn’t fair that men could go into their later years and look better—that they could be called “distinguished” as a good thing—while women had to put all of their energy into fighting their age. She would soon be 55. Again, the doubt rose in her—that Stephen was getting bored, and that maybe he wanted to trade up.  

He seemed to pick up on her anxiety. “Hey, I’m sorry I’m pushing. I don’t need this. Definitely not.” He pulled her in for a hug. “You’re all I ever need, okay?”

That felt good to hear. She believed him, because it was exactly how she felt about him. And yet, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more. “But?”

“No buts,” he said, sliding his hands down over her ass. “Other than this one,” he added, squeezing her cheeks.

Julianna laughed, even though it was a joke she’d heard from him a hundred times.

“I can just drop it. No more talk about hotwives.” He made a gesture to zip his lips closed, but she stopped him mid-zip.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t hide it away again, because that’s what you’d be doing. I just… I’m still processing it all. You’ve lived with this fantasy for years—”

“Probably decades.”

“I’ve had a month. It’s just… a lot.”

“I understand.” He took her hand in his—the one that stopped the zip—and kissed the backs of her fingers. “And when you’re ready, maybe we can actually write the profile together.”

“Yes, let’s do that.”

“And you know what else we’re going to need for the profile, right?”

“What?” she asked.

“Photos!”

“I am not putting photos of myself on some random internet site.”

“Not so random. And we’ll make sure they can’t identify you.”

“If you want to scare away any potential guys, just put pics of this old body out there.”

“Oh please,” Stephen made a face and waved. “You know that’s not true at all.”

“I can’t compete with anyone in their 20s. Or even 30s or 40s—”

“Not true. And deep down, you know it.”

Julianna was used to this kind of flattery from her husband, but it still felt good. He took her hand and pulled her towards the stairs.

“Where are we going? Dinner—”

“Can wait. I need to prove something to you.”

***

Stephen snapped a photo of Julianna at the bathroom sink, applying lipstick, before she chased him out. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited, his heart racing as he studied the candid shot.

It wasn't just that she was beautiful. She definitely was that. Her statement about competing with women in their 20s came back to him, as it always did, because that’s what made her exceptional. Those girls didn’t need to try. Their youthful beauty came almost effortlessly. Julianna had to work hard to stay trim and sexy, and that effort made everything so much more meaningful.

She was also his partner. He looked at the photo of her in her lacy black boyshorts, her garter belt, her push-up bra, and remembered the first time she modeled it a decade before, when the two of them had left Garrett with Stephen’s mom and taken a trip to Estes Park. They were celebrating Stephen’s 50th, and Julianna had gone all out to make it extra special.

The perfume she wore reminded him of a trip to New York in their early 30s, when she’d first discovered it in the Macy’s cosmetics department. Even the shade of lipstick that she was applying reminded him of dates they’d shared over the years, which got him thinking about dates she might have in the future… with other men.

He knew he needed to pump the brakes some. He knew that his relentless pursuit of this hotwife fantasy—a thing that he’d been terrified to even admit to himself a month ago—was getting under his wife’s skin. But he couldn’t stop.

“I kissed him.” Was that how she’d phrased it? She’d kissed another man in Phoenix. After decades together, that was a huge step. Maybe it wasn’t the pace of some of the hotwife books and stories that were out there, but it still made him light-headed every time he remembered the confession. It also made him hard, even now.

“Okay, how’s this?” Julianna’s question pulled him out of his reverie. He looked up at her, standing in the doorway with the poise of the model she had once been.

“Wow,” Stephen said, drinking her in—and imagining that guy from Arizona, Anthony, doing the same.

She’d left her russet brown hair loose. It fell just above her shoulders in rich waves, and her pose seemed designed to accentuate her curves. 

He lifted his phone and took a photo, and this time, she didn’t wave him away. This time, she sauntered into the bedroom, her smile bright, her face flushed—two dead giveaways that she was more than ready for what they were about to do.

“I’m not sure how you talked me into this,” she said.

Stephen wasn’t sure, either, but he was going with it. “You listened. You love me,” he said simply, gesturing towards the bed.

“I’m beginning to question the importance of listening in a relationship,” she said, her smile wry. But she glided over to the bed anyway, climbing up into the middle and folding her legs beneath her.

Her doubtful demeanor actually helped dispel some of Stephen’s nervousness. “That’s, uh… that’s perfect,” he said as she arranged her hair off of her cheek. He took a quick snapshot of it, then glanced down at his phone to check his work.

The image caught her in a half-blink. Not good. “What?” she asked, seeing his face.

“Nothing, just…” He tried again. “Just getting the hang of this phone.”

This photo was better, although it also perfectly captured her skepticism. In it, she stared up at the camera, one brow raised as if asking again, “I’m not sure how you talked me into this.”

It made him laugh.

“What, Stephen? Come on, let me see?”

He made sure to delete the first image before walking over to her and showing her the shot. To his relief, she started laughing. “Yeah, that’s just about right,” she agreed, nodding at the photo. “Not bad, but I look old.”

“You look amazing, Jules. Seriously.” He stood up again. “Now, maybe smile?”

“Why? I thought you said we weren’t going to use any shots of my face?”

They’d agreed to keep her privacy in the online profile, but he still wanted some shots for himself. “Just smile, okay, Julianna?”

She put on the most fake smile she could. “Perfect,” he said. Yet after a few shots, her fake smile slipped into a real one. He didn’t try to direct her, just let her pose as he moved around her.

“I think you have enough, don’t you?” she asked, looking at him over her shoulder.

“Maybe. But… what if you take off the bra.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, but once again, she was smiling.

“Think about doing this for Anthony.” Stephen said it before he lost his nerve, and was pleased to see the color spring into his wife’s cheeks.

“That is not happening.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I kind of think that it is.”

Still, she reached behind her and unfastened her bra, and Stephen had to take a steadying breath, silently thanking her for playing along.

“You can never show these photos to anyone,” she said sternly, even as he started snapping pics that captured the side swell of her breast. She draped a hand across her nipples as she turned to him. “Promise me.”

“I promise. Of course, of course. Anything.” He licked his lips, but even still, she didn’t immediately lower her arm. She did lie back on the bed, though, her breasts somehow looking larger and fuller as they swelled over her arm.

Stephen climbed up onto the bed, balancing on the springy material to take a photo of her from above. When he wobbled, Julianna laughed. “You better not fall and break something doing this,” she warned. “Not sure how we’ll explain this one in the ER.”

“Sometimes true art requires sacrifice,” he said. His instincts were correct. She looked great from above, her hair fanned out around her, one leg draped over the other, tantalizing with her barely covered breasts.

She turned onto her back, giving him another view of her topless form. He snapped some more photos before hopping off the bed and moving down, in line with her face. Her smile was genuine now, like she was getting more into it than she cared to admit. She lifted up enough to show the deep well of her cleavage as she rested her head on her elbows and smiled.

He knew right away that this one was a keeper. Her dark eyes danced with mischief, her expression vibrant, engaged, and beneath, the hint of her nipples. It wasn’t a photo he’d ever be able to share, but one he knew he’d look back on for years to come.

She reached for him, taking the phone away. “Come on,” she said. “We’re done, right?”

Stephen could have gone on forever, but he saw the playfulness in her expression. He couldn’t deny that. Nor did he want to. “For now,” he said. “I think we have enough.”

“Good,” she said, drawing him close. He kissed her, and she readily accepted his mouth. “I’m getting cold.”

Stephen laughed with her as he climbed onto the bed once again. She rolled onto her back, exposing her bare breasts to him for the first time. Her nipples were hard. “I can see that,” he commented. “Let me help warm you up.”

Before she could roll her eyes, he climbed over her and kissed her on the mouth. For all her resistance to the photo shoot, she kissed him back with the same enthusiasm that had been coursing through him all evening, every evening, ever since Arizona. Stephen could feel her hum with pleasure against his lips, and when she ran her hands along his back, he knew she was game.

He was probably wrong, but he liked to think that at least a part of her was considering his fantasy—that as she felt the weight of him over her, she was thinking of someone else on her. He sat up and together they pulled his shirt off.

She ran her hands over his bare chest, tracing the pecs that he worked so hard to keep toned. He did it for her, mostly, and whenever he felt like skipping a gym session to watch television, he thought about the Anthonys of the world and found his motivation. Yet despite all that, it still turned him on to think that maybe his considerable extra effort still just wasn’t enough. That was the cuckold paradox.

“You’re hard,” Julianna whispered as she reached down between his legs.

“Maybe I’m just cold, too.”

“Ha!”

She tugged at his pants. He helped her out, freeing his dick. “Very… cold.”

Stephen caressed the exposed skin between her panties and stockings. “Love this.”

“At least someone does.” Julianna hated the snaps of garters, no matter how much Stephen told her it was worth it.

“Not just me.” He ran his hand up over her boyshorts, which she’d put over the garters. He always loved that detail—that she was ready for sex, but also not something that he’d taught her. No, she’d learned to do that at some point before him. He dragged her panties down, and he could smell her excitement. “They look great in photos.”

He wanted to take a photo of her right now, her legs spread, naked except for the garter belt and stockings. She’d even touched up her landing strip, the dark slash of hair neat and sexy above her glistening, bare lips.

“No, you’re not—” she said as he grabbed his phone again.

“Yes, I definitely am.”

It wasn’t the best nude, but it encapsulated their relationship perfectly. Julianna was laughing, holding her hands out, arms straight as if warding off paparazzi. But her hands didn’t hide her bright smile just behind her fingers.

More than that, she was so comfortably sexy. It was what had always struck him most about her. Her beauty was effortless, despite knowing how much effort she put into it.

“Delete that,” she said.

“Never.” He locked his phone and tucked it out of reach. “That one’s just about perfect.”

“Stephen.” There was a hint of warning in her voice.

“I won’t share it. I promise. But you have to let me keep it.” He slipped up at her side this time, and she rolled to meet him. “Thank you for indulging me, Jules.”

“I still don’t get it, you know,” she said. She climbed over him, taking his dick and guiding it against her smooth gash. She didn’t get it, no, but something had her worked up. Maybe it was just his excitement. Sinking down onto him, she shuddered and sighed. “But you clearly aren’t faking this.”

“No.”

“Unless you got some blue pill help?” She opened one eye to check him out.

“No help, other than the thought of… new adventures.”

Julianna giggled, but kept any further quips to herself. She began to ride him with renewed vigor, her initial hesitation giving way to something more primal. He marveled at the sight of her body, her curves accentuated by the mood lighting of their amateur photo shoot. Each roll of her hips sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through his body, his cock throbbing within her tight embrace. He imagined another man seeing her like this, experiencing her raw beauty, feeling her wet pussy wrapped around his dick.

Stephen reached up, capturing her breasts in his hands, feeling their weight as he thumbed her hardened nipples. Julianna's gasp of pleasure spurred him to sit up and capture one taut peak between his lips. He sucked and nibbled, encouraged by her keening moan.

The taste of her skin, salty with sweat and musky with desire, was intoxicating. Stephen trailed his lips along the column of her neck. She shivered beneath his touch. “I want to watch you with someone else,” he whispered.

She didn’t protest this time. She only moaned, her eyes still shut, perhaps even imagining that she was with someone else.

“I want to see another man worship you, to pleasure you, to make you come.”

He’d wanted to tell her that for so long, yet couldn’t. Even now, he worried that there would be repercussions, but his cock was now fully in control. His balls were boiling. His time was nearly at an end.

So was Julianna’s. He could feel her inner walls flutter around him, her body responding to his deep, dark confession. He thrust upward, meeting her downward strokes with increasing urgency. He held her close, pulling her body to his as they rutted through the last moments.

Julianna pulled her head back, her scream of release filling the room. Stephen finally let go of his own restraint. His orgasm tore through him, his seed pulsing deep into her as they clung to each other, riding out the waves of their mutual ecstasy.

At last, Julianna collapsed onto him, taking in deep, heaving breaths. As he held her close, he realized just how sweaty they were now. He was going to be sore in the morning. It had been a long time since they’d had such vigorous sex.

“I’m going to be sore tomorrow,” she said, echoing his thoughts. Stephen laughed.

“Then we’ll need to keep practicing.”

Stephen’s fantasy still hung in the air between them, his words still ringing in his ears—I want to watch you with someone else.

“Practicing,” Julianna said. “And talking. This is good, Baby.” She kissed him. “But also, you better not share that photo.”

“Nothing will be shared that we both don’t agree to,” he said. “We go into this together. Always.”

Part 2 will hopefully post on Friday, but like I said above, I haven't actually completed it (I've started it, though).