Confused: A Marital Blunder

By Colt Sievers

When Mark and Eva met five years ago, sparks flew immediately. Mark was standing at the barbecue, beer in mid-air, when a half-naked Eva ran past and stopped dead, turning to face him. She looked him up and down like a predator sizing up a meal and then did something no one else had seen her do. She wrapped her arms around his neck and thrust her topless tits into his chest. Mark was instantly drowning in her scent, spirit, and beauty. Eva knew in a split second that Mark was her soul mate, and for years, their love and connection had been undeniable, Mark even accepting Eva’s exhibitionist desires.

But then Quinton came into the picture, and suddenly, their friendship was thrown into chaos after a drunken threesome. Will their love be strong enough to withstand the new challenge?

If you enjoy tension and suspense, then you'll savour this erotic story of taboo love.
Buy Your Copy Today
Reader Review: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Another excellent read from this author. He really does a good job of imbedding taboo kinks and relationships in a less common way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Geode Books
• Release date: May 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9781777645762

Book preview

cover

Confused

Mark Was Everything…Until!

A Hotwife/Interracial Story

Copyright: Confused © 2023 Colt Sievers

ISBN 978-1-7776457-6-2

Distributed by Geode Books Canada

The secret is inside!

Cover Credit: andrewgraphics

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner

without the prior written permission of the copyright owner,

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Cover

Ch 1

Ch 2

Ch 3

Ch 4

Ch 5

Ch 6 EVA

Ch 7

Ch 8

Ch 9

Ch 10

Ch 11

Ch 12

Ch 13 Mark

Ch 14 Eva

Ch 15

Ch 16

Ch 17

Ch 18

Epilogue

CONFUSED

Chapter 1

We’d been out shopping on our day off and stopped for a drink at the local bar. Sitting in a dark booth in the back corner, Eva and I were enjoying happy hour.

I was surprised…NOT when she went to the washroom and dropped a tiny scrap of panties in my hand when she came back. I was surprised she had any on to begin with. She’s a bit of an exhibitionist. I made a big deal of inhaling deeply before shoving them in my pocket, much to the amusement of a few men around that got what just happened. They knew what was coming.

After all, she had a reputation to uphold.

It was darker where we were sitting, and I knew she was spreading her legs just enough to get them to look but too dim to actually see anything.

I met Eva at a barbecue five years ago. She ditched her top before any of the other girls, running around giggling and flaunting her tits at the guys. There was something about her free and easy spirit that had me fascinated. She ran past where I was standing, sipping my beer and stopped dead, turning to face me. She looked me up and down like a hungry predator sizing up a meal. Beer in mid-air, I froze, wondering what I’d done.

It’s you, she whispered and then did something she’d done with no one else there. She sidled up to me and wrapped her arms around my neck, thrusting those naked tits into my chest. Her lips met mine, and I was instantly drowning. Her scent, her spirit, her looks, her body, it was like the woman I’d spent my life waiting for.

She didn’t leave my side for the rest of the party except to grab her top and dress herself. There were no questions about girlfriends or boyfriends; we were instantly a couple. I took her home, and we spent half an hour making out in my car before she went in. I drove home floating on a cloud of lust and happiness.

We were married six months later.

To be fair, Eva had been totally upfront with me. She had a couple of kinks she freely admitted to. She had this exhibitionist streak. She loved to show her body off to other men. And she had a clothing and shoe fetish, I guess that went with the exhibitionist tendencies. She was totally focused on how she dressed herself. How those competing urges to dress up and undress shared the territory in her head was a complete mystery.

But if we were going to make it as a married couple, I had to be okay with the things she did. She told me flat out she had no intention of suppressing herself.

On the plus side, showing herself off made her totally horny, and she always fucked my brains out after a session like the bar we were currently sitting in. I knew we would barely make it in off the street at home, and she’d be naked and yanking my clothes off. Our bed got little usage when this happened. It was a joke between us because we seldom made it that far. Too many conveniently flat surfaces between the door and our bedroom. She was always dripping and ready for me after flashing; no foreplay needed, thank you very much.

She was my plug-and-play girl at that point.

Her clothing fetish had a life of its own. She subscribed to any magazine or website related to fashion, especially how the rich and famous dressed. She worked in a high-end women’s clothing store, and her employers loved her. She could talk knowledgeably about any current fads, design trends, materials or accessories. They had successfully added several lines of clothing and ditched others based on her advice. Her sales in the store were many times that of any other clerk.

She spent hours pouring over her magazines and emails. She had taken over our third spare bedroom and installed shelving and a computer. Every magazine, book or article or email was carefully indexed, and she could pull something out almost magically if she needed it. She knew the lives of every designer and what they were working on. On TV, she watched fashion shows or any award ceremony with stars, especially if they were strutting their latest fashions on the red carpet.

In my opinion, she was obsessive about clothes and shoes. But that compulsion had its value. Other retailers were constantly trying to lure her away to work for them. It was her profession, and I had to admit she was passionate about it. No, let me change that. She was a consummate professional in her trade, and her hard-won expertise put her above all others.

For those of you that need the information, I’m Mark, 28 years old. Eva is 25. I’m an architect and just starting to get noticed in the industry. I’m six feet tall to Eva’s five foot two inches, and brown hair and eyes to her blonde hair and blue eyes. I keep myself in decent shape, as does Eva. I doubt she’d let an ounce of fat change the contours of any dress she wore. And she almost always wore dresses and high heels. All the better to flash, I guess.

Everywhere she went, the guys in the neighbourhood knew her name, and she knew most of theirs. Those that played it smart got a nipple slip or a hitched-up dress to show her little blonde pussy. Those that didn’t got ignored.

I guess there’s one thing that bothered me. I doubted there was a man in the area that hadn’t seen my bride’s body parts. On the other hand, we never lacked invites to parties or social occasions. Give Eva a couple of drinks, and all too often, her top would be the first to disappear, spurring the women into a competition. The guys loved it. A couple of parties we’d gone to descended into outright orgies after Eva got started. But as soon as anything like that started, she was back at my side instantly.

But back to the bar we were in. The barkeep walked over, bringing fresh