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It often comes as a complete surprise to find that people are not always exactly what they seem to be.
The quiet librarian who secretly waits for the moment when she can loosen her passions on an unsuspecting patron. The nurse who is ready to take on any of her patients, male or female, who think they can handle her. The teacher who, given half the chance, will not hesitate to relent his perverse desires on at unsuspecting girl in one of his classes.
Merril Harris is one of these outwardly normal people. In fact, if anything, she seems most shy, more reserved than most. But deep within herself she is becoming the helpless captive of a reckless passion which, now that she has at first acknowledged it, must be fed a constant diet of perverse excitement. In HOT WET WIFE, the story of the weekend in which she completely lets go, she allows depravity to spill into her life, ruling her completely, and taking her into a world which she had never dreamed existed.
HOT WET WIFE — a novel that explores a hidden segment of our society, a powerful lesson for those who refuse to believe some of the darkest problems that face us all.
The warm rays of the summer sun beat down relentlessly on Alecia Allen’s naked body as she lay quietly on her stomach next to her swimming pool. Her body was deeply tanned all over; she seldom wore a swim suit under any circumstances and never wore one at all in her own back yard.
The yard was enclosed on three sides by a high wall, while the two-story, Spanish-style house she shared with her husband Larry formed the fourth boundary. Thus she could be certain that no one would see her while she sunbathed, though had she been in the middle of a crowded beach it would have made no difference to her. In fact, she might have liked the latter circumstances better than the present one, since she liked nothing better than to feel men’s hungry eyes feasting on her nakedness, whatever the circumstances might be.
Today she was, to put it mildly, horny. She could feel the hard concrete beneath her towel pressing forcefully against her crotch and tits, and she rubbed against it, letting the hard resistance excite her. Deep inside her cunt, she could feel a throbbing, tingling presence, and she knew that if she were to dip one of her fingers into her simmering honeypot she would find her pussy to be warm and moist.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.
Note: This story is the same as catalog number PR-4018 in the original publications (a duplicate).