Shaken in her Boots, The Complete Series (Volumes 1-3): A Hotwife Adventure Read online

  Shaken in her Boots, The Complete Series (Volumes 1 – 3)

  A Hotwife Adventure

  Bart Tracer

  Copyright 2017 Bart Tracer

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this work may be reproduced for distribution by any means physical, mechanical, or electronic without the explicit written permission of the copyright holder.

  This is a work of erotic fiction intended for adult consumption only. Unlike real life, characters in books cannot contract STDs and/or ruin their lives or the lives of other people. All characters and locations are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Individuals pictured on the cover are models and are used for illustrative purposes only.

  First digital edition electronically published by Bart Tracer, March 2017

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Bart Tracer is a family man who has a secret passion for writing erotic stories. He specializes in hotwife adventures and sexy group encounters, writing the kinds of stories that he enjoys reading. His narratives pull the reader in and provide an emotional investment in the characters, with plenty of naughty action and sexual tension to keep things lively. Some of his inspiration is drawn from his own personal experiences, but mostly his works are a way for him to explore all of those theoretical “what ifs” that separate the mundane from the extraordinary. Hope you enjoy them!

  Feedback welcome! Visit Bart’s Tumblr site at barttracer.tumblr.com.

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  Shaken in her Boots, Volume 1

  Chapter 1

  Lord, I was tired. Bone tired. But if we were going to gain enough points to qualify for the state championship, we needed to hit as many rodeos as possible this month. I’d driven all night, through the unbroken monotony of the Texas Panhandle, but now we were finally here. Surprisingly, the fairgrounds were well-marked and, arriving early, we had our pick of spots to set up our portable corral.

  Our winnings from the rodeo in New Mexico would more than pay for our entry fees for tonight’s event, and if our luck held, we might actually leave town with a tidy little sum. Provided, that is, that I caught my calf and tied it fast enough and Elizabeth didn’t knock over a barrel.

  Putting the truck in park, I killed the engine and glanced over at my wife, curled up in the passenger seat, fast asleep. Her long legs were tucked adorably under her perfect little butt, just a hint of her tiny socks peeking out from under the cutoff shorts she always wore when we were driving. Her fiery auburn hair framed her gorgeous, pale face as her chest rose and fell in an even cadence. Even after five years of marriage, I was still fascinated with my petite young wife.

  For just a moment, I watched her sleeping, regretting that we hadn’t had any time for one another in the last few days. Maybe tonight…

  We had been high school sweethearts who married young, just out of school. We met when we were both 16, two skinny farm kids, both into horses and rodeo. The attraction was immediate and strong and blatantly obvious to everyone around us. Our friends in school would hum the wedding march every time we walked past. We gave a new meaning to the word inseparable, doing everything together. Well, almost everything.

  Both of us needed some time to work up the courage to take that final step. There had been plenty of passionate kissing, and hands had roamed on more than one occasion, but we also stopped short of full-on sex. But ultimately, our need for each other overcame our shyness, and one spring evening, parked in a hayfield under the stars, after half a bottle of sparkling wine drunk from red plastic cups, we had given our virginities to each other on a soft blanket laid out in the bed of my rusty old pickup. It was the most beautiful night of my life, and Elizabeth felt the same way. I proposed to her the next day and we had been together since then.

  Neither of us had ever been with anyone else. In my case, even if the opportunity had presented itself, no woman could ever compete with Lizzie for my affections. She was my world, my soul-mate, a beautiful, sweet goddess whom I worshipped with every fiber of my being. I loved her with an incandescent intensity.

  Lizzie was a little flirty. Always had been. It wasn’t even intentional; it was just who she was. She laughed and batted her eyes, and very much enjoyed the attention this brought her. In my heart, I knew it didn’t mean anything. She never showed the slightest interest in taking things further than flirting, and I trusted her implicitly. But there were times when, watching her touch some other man’s arm or laugh at one of his jokes, I felt a little shiver of excitement run down my spine. I didn’t dwell on it or really even think about it, but it was there, deep down. I liked her flirting.

  The honk of a car horn abruptly jolted me back into the present, and I blinked, shaking my head to clear it. Beside me, Elizabeth seemed oblivious to the jarring noise, still sleeping soundly. It was a crying shame to disturb this vision of feminine beauty, but we had things to take care of, so I reached over and gently shook her awake. “Baby, wake up. We’re here.”

  Her blue eyes fluttered open and then focused on mine as a smile played across her full lips. “Hi, Sweetie!” she said warmly, stretching both arms above her head, innocently silhouetting her smallish breasts beneath her t-shirt, “What time is it?”

  “About 6 o’clock,” I answered, tearing my eyes from her divine chest. “You want to go get our numbers, while I unload the horses?”

  “Sure thing. Just point me in the right direction,” she said as she opened her door and slipped on her boots. “Are we going to the dance tonight?”

  “I don’t know, Baby. I’m really bushed from driving all night,” I complained. I got out and closed my door. She knew I hated to dance.

  “Well then I suggest you try to grab some shut-eye between now and then, Mister,” Elizabeth threatened playfully with her hands on her hips, “Otherwise, I might have to find someone else to go with!”

  With a little giggle, she twirled on her heel and bounced off to the announcer’s booth, her magnificent ass swaying seductively with each step.

  Chapter 2

  When the dust had settled that night, Elizabeth and I had both won buckles in our events and our wallets were just a little bit thicker. Back at the trailer, we fed the horses and went into the living quarters that were the front half of the trailer to clean up before heading to the rodeo dance.

  When the chores were finished, Elizabeth got in the shower while I finished shining our boots. Once the boots were buffed to a brilliant shine, I laid out my jeans and shirt, then brushed the dust off my black hat while I waited. Suddenly feeling playful, I decided to join her in the trailer’s tiny shower stall.

  She giggled as she felt me squeeze in behind her. “Bill!” she squealed, “You’re going to make us late!”

  “Come on, Baby! It’s been almost a week,” I implored as I started to soap her perfect little titties. “Why don’t we stay in tonight? We’ll go dancing tomorrow night.”

  “Uh-uh, cowboy,” she scolded coyly, “that’s the third time in a row I’ve heard that line! This little lady wants to shake her moneymaker tonight!”

  As my wandering hands found their way to her neatly trimmed little bush, I pressed a soapy digit between her slippery folds and began to finger her tight little hole. I felt my manhood stiffen against he
r round little butt and made one last appeal, “Please! Baby, you’re killing me! I need you so bad!”

  Twisting to face me, she reached between my legs and grasped my now fully erect penis in one hand. With the other, she began to slowly run her fingernails over my scrotum.

  “Oh, you poor thing!” she teased as I twitched in her hand, “Does someone have a case of blue balls?”

  “Oh God, yes! Please, Baby? There are some condoms in the medicine cabinet. It’ll only take a second, I swear! Just wait right here!”

  “Nope!” She laughed, sticking out her tongue as she suddenly pushed me out of the shower, “No pussy for you until I get to go dancing!”

  There were two kinds of cowboys in the room when I walked into the dance hall with Lizzie on my arm an hour later: those who openly stared and those who tried to hide it. More than one gawking man fell victim to a well-aimed slap from his significant other that night. Not that I could really blame them. Elizabeth could have given a dead man a boner.

  Her deep-red, perfectly coiffed hair framed her flawless face beneath her black Stetson. A white button-up shirt was carefully tied above her belly button, accentuating her perfect, braless, little breasts while providing a delicious view of her flat, toned tummy. A flared denim skirt hugged her rounded hips, stopping mid-thigh to showcase impossibly long legs ending in a brand-new pair of Tony Lama boots. The overall effect was exquisite. She was easily the most attractive woman in the room.

  As soon as we were inside, I went to get us a couple of beers. As I was standing in line, I saw my wife heading to the dance floor with a cowboy in a plaid shirt. She really loved to dance and it wasn’t unusual for her to dance with several other guys when we went out. I was the one who always took her home, so it really didn’t bother me. Once I had our drinks, I found one of the empty tables along the wall and waited for my wife to reappear.

  When the song ended, I saw Elizabeth moving through the crowd looking for me and stood up, waving to get her attention. Spotting me, she waved back, an enormous smile on her face, and started toward me. It wasn’t until she had almost reached me that I realized that she was bringing her dance partner along. And looking up, I realized that I knew him. The man who had been dancing with my wife was none other than Lance Corbin, the bronc rider. Just what I needed!

  I didn’t really have anything against Lance. He was friendly enough and a damn good cowboy. In fact, he too had won a buckle tonight. And Lance was always a perfect gentleman around us. He pulled his weight and was more than willing to lend a hand if you needed help. It’s just that, well, the kid could be awfully impressed with himself at times.

  Now don’t get me wrong, rodeo is no sport of shrinking violets. More than once, I’ve heard it said that the reason cowboys drive pickup trucks is so that they can haul their egos around with them! But Lance took this to a whole new level. In addition to being a self-proclaimed “bronc stomper” who could “outdrink any man alive”, he also considered himself to be quite the ladies’ man. Rumor had it, he had bedded half of the barrel racers on the circuit and more than a few of the queen contestants. Lance was what we called a “poon hound”. Not exactly the first man I would’ve chosen for my wife’s dance partner!

  To make matters worse, Lance was built like the proverbial brick shithouse. His broad shoulders and muscular limbs made him stand out in any crowd. Add to this a face like Steve McQueen and a crooked, infectious smile, and even I had to admit that the man was a beefcake.

  Lance’s father had passed away a few years ago, leaving him a 5000 acre ranch in Texas, along with an undisclosed fortune in oil revenue. So, while the rest of us were rushing from rodeo to rodeo, trying to make ends meet, Lance had it made in the shade. Rodeo was a hobby for him, and he liked to pursue that hobby in style, with first-rate tack and a twin-engine private plane that he piloted himself. It was no wonder the girls were throwing their panties at him.

  For her part, Elizabeth had always liked Lance and would hear nothing ill said of the man. She dismissed the rumors of his extracurricular activities as being highly unlikely or excused them with statements like “boys will be boys” or “he just hasn’t found the right woman yet”. And when I brought up my concerns about him hitting on her, she had laughed at me outright. “You have nothing to worry about, Sweetie! I get all the loving I need right here at home with you!” And now, she was bringing the guy to our table. Perfect!

  “Hi Sweetie!” Elizabeth chirped as she leaned in to kiss my cheek, “You know Lance, don’t you?”

  “Sure! How’s it going, Lance? Man, you sure made one hell of a ride today! Congratulations!”

  “Thanks man! You did pretty well yourself. Hope you don’t mind me dancing with Elizabeth,” Lance said nervously. “She said you’d be okay with it.”

  “No problem,” I said. “She knows dancing’s not really my thing. So she keeps an eye out for other victims.”

  Laughing dutifully at my little joke, he seemed to relax.

  “Don’t you have a date tonight? What’s the deal?” I kidded.

  “I was actually planning on bringing Carol Ann,” he explained, “but she cut it a little close coming around that third barrel and had to go to the ER for stitches on her knee. I was actually thinking maybe I should just call it a night and go back to the motel.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Lizzie insisted. “It’s bad luck not to properly celebrate after winning a buckle, and besides, you’d actually be doing Bill a favor by staying here and dancing with me. Isn’t that right, Bill?” she demanded.

  “Sure, pull up a chair,” I offered, trying my best to sound sincere.

  What the hell was I supposed to say? My original plan had been to spend just enough time at the dance to get my wife in the mood, then take her back to our trailer and get my fuck on. Instead, I was stuck making small talk with Lance Corbin. And now that she had a willing dance partner, I was pretty sure my wife was going to stay put until they kicked us out of here.

  As the night progressed, my prediction proved partially correct. I was indeed stuck in the dance hall, but at no point did it become necessary for me to make small talk with Lance. Except for the occasional trip back to our table to grab a drink, my wife kept him on the dance floor the entire time.

  At first, I was relieved. I could sit quietly, left to my own thoughts and sip my beer as I admired my gorgeous wife swaying seductively to the music. The band played a mix of two-steps and waltzes and she really was quite stunning, dancing in the arms of this young Adonis and beaming happily at me over his shoulder. I had to admit, they made a good looking couple, moving fluidly against each other in perfect time to the music. But, with each successive dance, the distance between them seemed to close until they were dancing cheek to cheek.

  A frown creased my brow as I began to study them more closely. Her tiny hand stroked his muscular back. They turned and glided elegantly across the floor. Some unheard remark from him brought the peals of her laughter to my ears. She blushed, molding her body to his as they danced on.

  Occasionally, his hand would seem to stray down her slender back to brush her ass, but never lingered long enough to cause me any real concern. Once I thought I saw Elizabeth run her hand over the back of his tight jeans and felt a sharp stab of jealousy. But, when I saw them again, her hand rested innocently in the center of his broad back.

  I thought about cutting in, but I didn’t want to be an ass. After all, I had encouraged him to dance with her and maybe it wasn’t intentional. Hell, maybe I was imagining things. We had been drinking, after all. But as I pondered the best course of action, I couldn’t help but notice my wife grinding subtly against him. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, her hips moved up and down along his thigh, gliding along him.

  When they turned with his back facing me, my wife lifted her head from his shoulder and stared straight into my eyes, biting her lip. I’d seen that look a million times… she was getting aroused! Enough was enough! It was time to retrieve my wife.

&nb
sp; Maintaining eye contact with her, I stood up, intending to cut in, when the strangest thing happened…

  I was still 15 feet away from them when my wife’s eyes suddenly shot open. With an audible gasp, she took a stumbling step backwards from Lance.

  “Oh! I.. I’m so sorry, Lance! But I… we have to go now!” she stuttered as she hurried toward me. “Thanks so much for the dance! Umm, see ya around!”

  And snatching my hand, she pulled me through the door into the cold night air.

  “Baby! What the hell just happened?” I demanded. “Why did we have to leave so damned quick?”

  “Oh my God, Bill!” She croaked. “Not here, Sweetie! Just get me back to the trailer, and I’ll explain everything!”

  Chapter 3

  I don’t remember ever seeing Lizzie walk so quickly. It had taken us a good 10 minutes to walk across the fairgrounds from our rig to the dance hall earlier. We now covered the same distance in half the time. When we reached the trailer, she ushered me inside, closed and bolted the door, and leaned back against it, her face flushed and breasts heaving as she fought to compose herself.

  “All right, Baby! Tell me!” I pressed. “What was that all about? What happened?”

  “Sweetie, it wasn’t my fault!”

  “What wasn’t your fault?”

  “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t realize…”she uttered, shaking her head. “God, Baby, please don’t be mad!”

  “Mad? Baby, I’m not mad. I love you. Just take a deep breath and tell me what happened.” Concerned, I knelt in front of her and stroked her hand softly. “Come on, Baby, you can tell me anything.”

  “You really won’t be mad?” She entreated, her big blue eyes now filled with tears.

  “Of course not, silly! Now, let’s hear it. What’s all the fuss about?”