The Senators Hotwife

By BD Hampton

DISCLAIMER: This is PURE smut with a hard edge. Proceed with caution

 

Senator Norman Flowers, the top Conservative Senatorial Candidate in the state of Louisiana has never thought his wife would cheat on him. And when he gets a bad case of the runs one early Monday morning, he goes home at lunch to find two motorcycles parked in his driveway. When he goes inside to investigate, he finds his wife of thirty years in their marital bed with two young black men.

 

He watches in the shadows of the hallway and when they are finished, he hurries to his car and waits for them to leave so he can follow them. When he follows the bike that has the larger of the two pair, the one he had watched the closest too, he finds out exactly why you should just let a bull loose in a china shop and not attempt yo ever stop it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fjord Horse Publishing
• Release date: Nov 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215353790

Book preview

Chapter 1

Circa 1999

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Senator Norman Flowers was an everyday stuffy southern conservative Republican senator deep in rural Louisiana in a town called Chauvin. He was in his late sixties, well past retirement age, pasty and overweight with beady eyes and full cheeks with sweat that poured from his brow like a waterfall in the scorching sun. He never came home during his lunch break but on that particular Monday, he had to go home with a bad case of the runs.

He raced down Centerline Street to the house high up on the hill overlooking the small town of Chauvin that had at most a few hundred poor farmers and fishermen who had voted for him in the last senatorial race. Norman raced up the driveway in his ninety nine Mercades and slammed it into park. As his hand hit the door handle, he noticed a set of Yamaha sport bikes on the side of the house that stopped him cold.

He tapped his thick fingers on the steering wheel and stared at the license plates. Normal Louisiana plates. Norman’s eyes swung from the bikes to the front door which was cracked. He took a rag from his pocket and wiped the copious amounts of sweat from his brow and waited.

He stayed in the seat for several long moments, his country music barely audible, Garth Brooks’ Unanswered Prayers playing on the radio. He slid his hand to the door handle with one last look at the cracked front door. Why would two motorcycles be in the driveway? Did his wife Brandi call a maintenance guy? A lot of the younger mechanics in town rode around on motorcycles to save gas as it was high priced deep in the bayou. But why would she need two?

Norman waited for another few more moments. For some reason, his heart was palpitating. He knew he should kick the car door open, barge in through the front door and find out what was happening, but Norman wasn’t that type. There was obviously a logical reason as to why the bikes were there. He had won his senate seat because of his cool demeanor under pressure. No need to change that now.

Norman opened the door and readied to step out. It took a minute to sling his full weight out of the car. At three hundred and eighty pounds at five eight, he was hard pressed to get his frame out of a seat of any kind. Once he was standing in the driveway, he immediately was wiping his brow of sweat as the sun beat down on him. He tugged his soaked button up white shirt collar with his red tie tight to the top and then started to walk to the house. His stomach had settled for the moment and he knew why. The nerves of who was in the house outweighed his upset stomach. Now it was doing flips as his heart pounded.

Why am I so nervous? he muttered under his breath as he swiped the soaked rag across his forehead again. There’s nothing going on in there...but why is the door cracked?

Norman walked across the gravel driveway, his steps making a loud crunching noise as he made it to the porch where the Louisiana state flag and the Confederate flag swayed lazily in the breeze beside it. Yeah, it was bad taste to fly the stars and bars but his family had fought and died for that particular cause and even if he wasn’t in total agreement with their philosophy, he understood it. And he was no fan of other races.

He walked up the three steps and then to the door. He moved his hand to the round brass door knob and slowly pushed it open. The door swung open with a slight creak. The hinges needed oil. Norman stepped through the doorway and looked around. It was quiet, too quiet for his liking.

Then he heard it.

His wife wailed, Fuck me harder, you big black dick mother...ughhhhhh...fucccc...fuccccc meeeeeeee!

Chapter 2

Norman’s eyes bulged out of his head and his face turned beet red, the back of his neck scorching. Can’t be...couldn’t be...black? Well, fuck the race issue. She was cheating on him. Not in his household. But for some unknown reason, he couldn’t move. His heart raced uncontrollably, the sweat poured from his brow and armpits even more than usual in the air conditioned room.

A moment later the rage overtook his shock. He blinked and stayed still, his feet glued to the floor, hands starting to shake, the anger starting to boil through his blood. He was no one to be cheated on. It was quiet, then a loud smack of skin and his wife crying out in pain broke the silence.

I’m your white whore! she cried out as the smacking continued. I’m sorry for my husband's flagggggggg! Owwwwwwwww!!!

Norman’s breathing became sharp and he felt his cock pulsate and then start to harden without the use of his newest prescription Viagra that had just been released on the market.

The fuck? he muttered as he felt it harden and push his pants out a tiny bit. My flag?

His cock was less than three inches and with his weight, Brandi and he hadn’t had any kind of sex life even with his Viagra. He hadn’t even seen his dick in twenty years when he took a piss and with his gut, it wasn’t comfortable at all in missionary. He could easily crush Brandi. But like a dutiful wife, she did her best to ride him but she never came because he lacked the ability for deep penetration. He didn’t like eating pussy either so he was just making it the best he could. And of course, he felt bad that he couldn’t make her cum, what husband wouldn’t?

With a concentrated effort, Norman managed to move one foot then the other as he swayed on his feet to the stairwell with a deep growl. Ohhhhh myyyyy gaaawwwd, Brandi screeched as she obviously came. "That dick is sooooo fat! I feel it in my stommmmmmmmach!"

Norman’s jaw dropped at the statement, then he felt empty. She was fucking a big dick and clearly having the time of her life. But his dick grew even harder when he heard it.