Orra's Story: The A-Z of Trophy Wives, #15

By D.D. Grey

They're young, beautiful, with fast cars and luxury homes—with absentee, older husbands. Bored and lonely, each of our trophy wives has her own solution.

 

Orra had been a tomboy as she grew up. She was still more comfortable in tight jeans and an even tighter tee than she was in a cocktail dress. At one cocktail party, in particular, she is bored out of her skull. Tim, her husband, is busy schmoozing up to a bunch of high-ups, and she has been cut loose. She knows it's his job, but it's still a boring way to spend an evening.

Their hostess takes pity on her and offers to show her around the house. Downstairs there's a playroom, originally set up for the couple's kids, but they've long flown the coop. The air hockey table still works, and the pool table is in good condition. S he challenges Orra to a game of her choice with a small stake. She agrees, and she roundly thrashes her hostess at air hockey. Double or nothing on the pool table has her losing, and she realizes she might be in over her head.

Another double or nothing on the pool table, and she's wiped out. She offers her another game, same terms, only this time, if she loses, she has to come back another day without her husband.

When she loses again, will she welsh on the bet?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.D. Grey
• Release date: Sep 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798201630324

Book preview

Chapter 1

I couldn’t help it. I had to giggle. That giggle turned into a full-throated laugh. The reason? The look on my husband’s face. Tim’s mouth hung open. To be brutally honest, his tongue looked like it should be hanging out, not flicking at his lips. I guess it was a compliment, the way his eyes glowed with unbridled lust. It turns a girl’s head to be looked at like that. I tried hard not to preen because we just didn’t have time. Even so, my nipples hardened inside my tight black lace bra, while down below, everything was heating up.

If we’d had the time, I know I’d have ended up on the bed with him, and we’d both have needed a shower afterward. The trouble was, I needed to finish my makeup, and then pull my tight little black sheath dress over the scanty underwear that was currently all I was wearing. He was fully dressed, tuxedo, cummerbund, everything, right down to the obscene tent in the front of his pants.

Fuck, Orra, you look amazing!

Like you haven’t seen me in my underwear before.

Not that set. It’s a perfect fit.

I rose from the seat in front of the mirror, turned my back to him and deliberately, and very slowly ran my hands over the smooth lace of the boy shorts that covered my rump.

You’ve seen these before.

Not for long.

Not for long?

No, I’d have torn them off you in nothing flat. You are so gorgeous if only we had time...

We don’t have the time, remember. I’m doing this for you, so you’d better make it up to me afterward. I freaking hate these stuffy parties.

I know, babe. And given how you look in those scanties, I have every intention of making it up to you, all fucking night long.

Then you can start by stopping the swearing and leave me alone so I can finish getting ready. Twenty minutes I think you said for the cab?

He took a step toward me—his grin matching the lust glowing in his eyes, and the tent in his pants.

I wagged a finger in his direction. Uh-uh! I have not spent three hours having my hair done, a mani/pedi, and suffered through a full wax just for you to shred a sixty-dollar set of underwear just to bury that monster in me.

His voice took on a hoarse quality. You’d love it, every minute of it.

I flashed him a smile but kept my hand up, telling him to stay away. That’s not the point. Later, darling, later. Now I suggest you go downstairs and let me finish getting ready. I giggled and pointed at his crotch. Give yourself time to lose that before you frighten away the cab driver.

Later, baby, later! He echoed what I had said.

I chuckled again. I’ll counting on it, tiger, but for now, sit, stay, springs to mind.

As he headed out the door, I sat down again and chided myself for provoking him like that. I hadn’t needed to stand up and display myself. That had entirely been for my own benefit. I’d probably pay the piper for that particular stunt, later. Mind you, as I’d said to him, I was counting on it.

* * * *

The dress wasn’t a new one, but it had the same effect on my husband as the first time I’d worn it. In the back of the cab, he was more than just affectionate. In the end, I grabbed his hand and entwined our fingers just to stop him running his hand up under the hem of the dress. I loved the attention but didn’t want to arrive at the party, all rumpled and creased. For that matter, I wanted to keep my own desires under control.

You love it, really.

Shut up!

He chuckled and leaned in for a kiss. I turned my face away, not wanting him to smudge my lipstick. It wasn’t a rejection, the way I squeezed his hand confirmed that to him.

Later, minx!

As I said, counting on it. Just don’t rip the underwear in your haste to get them off. I suppressed a shiver. He had been there done that a lot while we’d been dating. Dating Tim had meant shopping for new panties on a regular basis. It wasn’t that he was rough, more that he was eager—accidental tears rather than deliberate rips. Mind you. I’d liked it when he did get a little rough.

I glanced at the back of the taxi driver’s head. In the darkness, apart from the flash of the streetlights, I couldn’t be sure, but I thought his ears were turning red. Our whispered conversation wasn’t as quiet as we’d thought. That made me blush too, and Tim saw that.

I don’t care who hears me saying I want to get into my sexy wife’s pants.

I said, shut up! I took a deep breath and tried to calm my own burgeoning libido. My nipples were tight inside the soft lace of the bra, and I could feel my pussy heating up. I wasn’t yet leaking moisture, but I knew, up inside, I’d be nice and wet already. Tim could be ruthlessly seductive when he wanted to be. On the way back from tonight’s party, great. On the way to the party, not so much. I glanced down to see my nipples pushing out the front of my dress.

Luckily the cab slowed and pulled up outside the three-story brownstone, which was our destination for the evening. I sighed. This was a work thing for Tim, and I had to tag along for appearance's sake. It would be all shop talk, and high business finance and taxation were not my thing. Tim had to be there. Ergo I had to be. He had to make a good impression. I just had to be the plus one, smiling and looking pretty. At least my husband knew how I felt and sympathized. I mean, really sympathized. He thought it was demeaning, but it was necessary in order for him to get ahead.

As I waited for Tim to pay the cab, an eddy of wind swirled up the street, caught the bottom edge of the thin dress, and billowed it up, exposing my legs almost all the way to the top. I gasped and grabbed at my skirt, pulling it down, only to see Tim, the taxi driver, and a guy walking down the street, all having a good look.

Not funny.

The three men just grinned at me, my husband’s grin the goofiest of them all.

Should have worn a weighted hem, baby.

Like you would know the difference.

Well, I do know one difference.

Which is?

Not as sexy. That dress is sexy. He lowered his voice, becoming hoarser. Way sexier.

I rolled my eyes and transferred my glare to the taxi driver as Tim finished paying him. The guy chuckled and gave a sardonic wave as he started off.

That was not funny.

Well, be thankful for one thing.

Which is?

It’s not one of those parties where I’ve dared you to come commando.

My blush fired up. Two weeks ago, he’d done just that, and I’d gone with it. Luckily that had been under a long dress. By the time we got away, I was literally dripping, and Tim reaped the benefits when we got home. There was no way I was going to scandalize his business contacts by accidentally flashing pussy or naked ass in a dress as short as this one. A black lace flash, maybe, but not full-on bare beaver.

He was still laughing as the hostess opened the door to us.

Orra! So good of you to come. Why did you bring this hunk with you? You could have left him behind, and we’d have had some real fun. Rachel was always like this, over the top, and larger than life. We both knew she was teasing.

Blushing already, what have you been up to, you naughty boy?

Tim held his hands up. Not me, an errant breeze. Told her she should have worn a weighted hem.

Rachel giggled then put on a fake Italian movie star accent. But darrllinggs, weights are just so yesterday!

Rachel, as ever, looked stunning in her silver sequined dress. Not for her, a little black dress. No, she had to go one further. As she turned to allow us into the house, I could see the dress was backless, confirming she was braless under the thin material. The back gaped all the way down to the swell of her ass. I couldn’t quite see the top of her crack, but it was close. The skirt was shorter than mine too. From how tight it was across her butt, and with no hint of VPL,