The Wife Next Door by Janet McCoy
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Experts argue over whether or not a man is naturally monogamous. If we accept that he is, we must allow for the undeniable fact that many marriage partners are not satisfied with the favors of one mate.

When we say “man”, we must of course include “woman”. Such a woman is the protagonist of this novel. Emma Tate is a woman with a wandering eye. Safely mated, she becomes bored with the predictability of her life. She feels there must be something more, though she is not sure what.

In THE WIFE NEXT DOOR, Emma embarks upon an existence that offers her the excitement of new lovers and new situations. But, as much as she enjoys herself, fear of discovery haunts her continuously. Emma is afraid to try to fend for herself. The security Harry offers is important to her. So she procrastinates, and she suffers, and she cheats on Harry. Until the day her “mouse” of a husband turns into a lion.

There was only one thing Sam Robbins liked better than fucking in general.

That was fucking his well-stacked wife Helen in particular.

He sat on a kitchen chair watching her go through the ritual of her Saturday morning chores. It was a luxurious feeling — to have the whole day in front of him, with nothing scheduled, with nothing more pressing to do than to watch the taut wiggle of Helen’s ass as she rummaged under the sink for her Mr. Clean.

No doubt about it, he thought lustfully. I have got myself one hell of a good-looking old lady. He began to toy with the idea of impaling her right there. Of pulling down her snug little pink shorts and filling her ever-ready twat with a swollen seven inches.

The effect of his fantasy on his penis was impressive. It began to grow and throb under his bathrobe. Part of a day off for Sam was to sit around in his old robe, all day if he felt like it. It felt sexy to have his prick so close at hand. All he had to do was reach inside the fold of his robe.

Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.

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