1. don_jetman

    don_jetman Well-Known Member Founding Member

    Games (wife as prostitute)
    by tonytony3



    "Honey, I want to get an early start today. I'll grab an Egg McMuffin
    on the way to work. Stay in bed for a while, OK?" His lips brushed mine,
    and he was gone.

    "What's the matter with him? What's the matter with me?" That damned
    project was eating him up. He hadn't touched me in a month!

    I rolled onto my back, and wiped a tear from my eye. I had a late
    morning appointment, so I had the privilege of staying in bed for another
    hour. Privilege, hell! Being in bed without him with me wasn't a
    privilege. Our marriage was like an afterthought in both our lives.

    I realized I had pulled at my nightgown, and my fingers were
    absentmindedly stroking my vulva.

    ". . .oh. . ."

    The stroking, still gentle, was no longer absentminded.

    "Just along the lips. . ." I thought.

    ". . .oh. . ."

    That does feel so nice, so warm. "Why isn't he doing this to me?" There
    was moisture, now, lubrication, like cream, along my outer lips. I let my
    fingertips enter, just a little. "How could he not want to do this?" I
    wondered, and then my fingertips found that nub - it's always a little
    shocking, how sensitive it is. . .

    I couldn't - no, that's not true, I wouldn't stop. I let my fingertips
    brush against my clit, slowly, then faster and faster, playing a one string
    arpeggio, until. . .

    . . . until. . . release. Release.

    But - not a lot of satisfaction. All that warmth, all that lubrication,
    all that passion, wasted.

    "I've got to do something about us" I muttered to myself later, in the
    shower.

    That evening, at dinner, it was just the two of us at Hilton Hotel
    Restaurant, overlooking Austin's skyline. It's a wonderful restaurant, we
    had a simple meal, wine. . .it should have been romantic.

    It wasn't. It was food, fuel, taken mechanically. I could have been a
    co-worker, not a wife, a lover.

    "Liz, let's go home. I'm beat," he said.

    "May as well," I agreed. "I need to stop in the lady's room."

    "I'll wait in the bar. We can have a nightcap, anyway, before we go,"
    he said, leaving me.

    Ten minutes later - that's all the time it took to weep a little, and
    then fix the damage - I went looking for my husband. I found him talking
    to a younger woman, a very pretty one. He saw me, and pointed to me.
    "See, there she is, she's coming now."

    The woman, turning, saw me, and walked away.

    "What's that all about?"

    "Oh, she's, ah, I guess you'd call her a working girl. She tried to
    interest me, and I told her I wasn't interested, and I was married, and my
    wife would be right here. And, there you were."

    "It looked like you were interested in her. Were you? Would you have
    used her if I wasn't here?"

    "Of course not."

    A prostitute? She could have been a coed. Hookers, in Austin? How
    naive I was. I wanted to know more.

    "Dave", I asked, as he drove towards our house, "what do they do? What
    do they charge?"

    "I don't know much about that stuff, honey. When I told her I was
    married, she said she'd do things I'd never ask you to do. Ahh, and she
    said a couple of hundred dollars would buy an hour of heaven."

    "Oh."

    The rest of the drive was silent - no tension, just the kind of silence
    married people are used to, when they're tired.

    I wasn't that tired, though. My mind was racing. "Things I'd never do?
    I'd do anything for this guy - to this guy. Maybe I'm not exciting
    enough!"

    My mind focused on that idea. "I'm not exciting enough to interest
    him!"

    But I can be!

    Dave got into bed quickly, as he usually does. I wasn't too far behind.
    His eyes were shut, he couldn't have seen I was wearing a little baby doll
    night gown that hadn't seen the light of night for years. Only this time,
    I had left the panties in the drawer.

    His back was to me. I cuddled close, and he made himself comfortable,
    warm against me. I had one arm around him, on his chest.

    "Dave?"

    "Mmmm?"

    "Dave, what would you have wanted her to do to you, or with you, that I
    don't do?"

    "Mmmm - you mean that prostitute I was talking to?"

    "Yeah, her."

    "I'd never use a prostitute. I'm married, and I love you. Let's go to
    sleep, honey."

    "If you did, what would you want. Come on, tell me!"

    "I don't know - maybe I'd want her to go down on me, or something."

    "I do that."

    "No, I mean like, maybe, all the way, until I came, or something."

    "Oh."

    I thought about that for a while. His breathing smoothed out, he was
    going to sleep.

    I moved my hand down his chest, over his belly, to his groin.

    "Hey mister, for a hundred dollars I'll do things to you your wife never
    does."

    I felt his body go rigid - there was a stirring in his groin. Maybe he
    wasn't going to sleep, after all.

    "What?"

    "Mister, for a hundred dollars I'll do things to you your wife never
    does."

    Did I really say that?

    He rolled on his back, awake now.

    "A hundred dollars?"

    He was getting an erection. It was working!

    "Yeah, a hundred."

    "OK."

    "What do you want, mister?" I thought I knew, but I wanted him to tell
    me.

    "I want some light in the room."

    I got up and turned on the bathroom light. With the door open, the
    bedroom was softly lit.

    "I like that outfit!"

    He was getting turned on.

    "It's part of the service."

    I heard the sound of some pajama snaps opening.

    He pulled the sheet off - it was obvious now that he WAS turned on!!

    "Come here."

    I did, kneeling on the bed.

    "Lay on your side, with your head there."

    I did that, too, my head on his thigh, his cock just in front of my
    face.

    "Take me in your mouth!"

    I did, feeling that cock between my lips, my tongue probing, licking,
    then releasing it, moving down the shaft, to his scrotum, and nuzzling
    that, too, and back up, fully involved in giving him pleasure. I knew what
    he wanted, it would be different. This time, I decided I'd let him do it
    in my mouth, at least a little.

    He said something.

    "What did you say, lover?"

    "Pull your nightgown up a little."

    It wasn't covering much, but I pulled it up to my waist, I was actually
    enjoying seeing him watch me as I licked at him, and enjoying seeing him
    look at me, uncovered, expecting him to move, to go down on me, too. I was
    horny!

    He said something else.

    "What, lover?"

    "My wife would never do that, and touch herself at the same time. I
    want you to."

    "What??"

    "I want to see you masturbate while you're sucking on me. Do it!"

    I was a hired whore for my husband. I wanted to excite him.

    I freed a hand, and used that hand to touch myself, while the other
    stroked his penis, and I sucked on him. I could feel how excited he was!
    My fingers found me wet, excited, too.

    I moved again, so I was kneeling beside him, my fingers in me, the other
    hand holding his cock still so my mouth and breath could excite him!

    I was lost in the role I was playing, and remembered something I read,
    something both depraved and delicious. I'd do it!

    My mouth held his cock, while my hand reached for, and found, his hand.

    I drew it to his cock.

    Wrapped his fingers around it.

    My hand held his, held his fingers around his cock.

    And I began masturbating him, having him masturbate himself, in time
    with what my mouth was doing to him, and my fingers were doing to me, to my
    own cunt.

    That worked!

    He was making small thrusts now with his hips, excited.

    I could feel him grow larger and warmer in my mouth, and could feel me
    grow warmer and wetter in my hand.

    "Oh!"

    His cock grew, throbbed. There was a thrust in my mouth, and then an
    eruption, a spurt. And another, and another. I turned my head to look at
    him, his cock still in my mouth, to see him looking at me, his mouth open,
    his hand pumping himself into me.

    He slipped from my mouth, I felt wetness on my cheek, then captured his
    cock again, sucking, swallowing, and my own fingers pushed me over the
    edge, too, and I shuttered with excitement and release. . .

    And relaxed, my head falling to his groin, covered with my saliva, and
    some of what he gave me, too, leaking from my lips.

    "God, you look sexy - what a night" he muttered. "She couldn't have
    done as well."

    I moved beside him, hair messy, fingers wet, then his mouth covered
    mine!

    "Thank you, sweetheart."

    And, we slept, in each other's arms.

    "Good morning, honey." He woke me with a kiss. "I owe you a hundred
    dollars."

    "I was joking about the money."

    "No, no, I have to give it to you. It completes the fantasy for me."

    He went, naked, to his wallet, and brought back a fifty, two twenties,
    and a ten. "Here."

    He put the money on the night table, and came back to bed, not able to
    hide his excitement. His "Excitement-o-meter" went from pointing at three
    o'clock when he was standing beside the bed, to noon when he lay down.
    Finally it was pointing at me, and then in me, time and again, causing and
    measuring my own arousal.

    After an hour, he struggled out of the bed again. "Hell, I'm going to
    be late for work. But it's worth it!"

    He was late, and it was worth every minute.

    It worked! He and I became closer physically over the next couple of
    months.

    No role playing - well, except every couple of weeks I'd respond to a
    gentle push while we were making love, and went down on him, and he, on me,
    and we'd postpone actual intercourse, but not sexual gratification, until
    the next morning.

    Finally, his project's product was ready for introduction at the
    Pittsburgh Conference, a big deal show for analytical chemists.

    "Take the week off," he begged, "and come with me. We'll have fun in
    New Orleans." (Pittsburgh Conference, in New Orleans, you ask? It outgrew
    Pittsburgh sometime in the mid '60's.)

    The Royal Orleans is a beautiful hotel, right in the French Quarter. I
    loved it. We checked in Sunday night.

    Dave had to be at the booth showing the new instrument every day, but
    the big day for him was Wednesday, when he'd deliver a paper (no, he's not
    a paper boy, this was a formal presentation to scientists) and he was as
    up-tight as could be. He practiced every free moment, and finally
    Wednesday came.

    His presentation went over without a hitch. The introduction was a
    success! "I'll catch up with you at the hotel" he told me. "I'm going for
    a couple of drinks with Henry (that's his boss)".

    I went to the room, and after a while went down the hotel's lounge.
    Sure enough, Dave was there, and Henry was just leaving.

    Dave had his last drink raised to his lips when I got to his side. "Hi,
    big boy. You look like you've been working hard. Wanna buy a good time?
    I'll do things your wife never does. . ."

    He turned to me, smiling, and a little surprised. He was remembering
    the last time I said something like that. "Sounds good. How much?"

    "Oh, an hour will cost you $200. Can you afford it?"

    "Oh, baby, you're looking at one hot prospect. You bet I can. Your
    place, or mine?"

    "Yours!"

    He took me by the hand, and led me to the elevators. In a minute or so
    we were at our, no, his, room.

    "Very nice," I said, walking in, looking out of the balcony, onto
    Rampart Street.

    "It is. So are you. I guess you want your money up front, huh?"

    "Uh, yeah. It'll be, uh, $200."

    He unfolded his wallet, extracted two bills, and held them out for me.
    "You're going to have to earn them."

    My husband was actually a little drunk!

    I took them, folded them into my purse, and turned to him, feeling a bit
    trashy, a bit nervous, and very excited.

    "What would you like, that your wife doesn't give you?" I stood close to
    him, allowed my hand to caress him - yes, he was excited.

    "Oh, I'll think of something."

    "Well, let me use your bathroom and freshen up, " I said, and not
    waiting for permission, went in and closed the door. I had done a little
    research about these matters. It didn't take long to get undressed. I
    wrapped a towel around my body, and came out to find him naked, on the bed.
    "I want a back rub, first."

    That would be new.

    Neck, shoulders - he was so tense!

    Upper back, lower back.

    "Keep going."

    Buttocks, then thighs.

    "Higher!"

    Back to buttocks.

    "Yes, there."

    I was straddling him, rubbing hard, using the lotion the hotel supplies.
    I was curious about all of this, too. I decided to explore a little.
    Hands on each buttock, pushing, spreading.

    There it was!

    I let my fingers move into that crevasse, brush against his ass.

    He arched his body - he liked it. "More!" I wanted to do more, too.
    The finger, gently touching, pressed a little, then a little more, and -
    its end disappeared.

    And Dave was pushing into the bed, very aroused. "More!!"

    I watched in amazement as my finger pushed in, feeling the tight ring of
    his sphincter, and out, and in again.

    "That's so nice" he said, "and something my wife would never do."

    "She doesn't know what she's missing," I replied.

    "Enough of that. Get off me."

    I did, laying beside him, ready for him to peel away the towel, and
    empty his lust and his sperm and his passion into me..

    "Roll over."

    Oh? He's not ready? Maybe he wants to give me a backrub, too. But
    that would be out of character, he'd do that for his wife, not me - he
    interrupted my train of thought.

    "No, no, not like that. Get on your hands and knees."

    "Oh, doggy style. That'll be fun, I thought," as I did that, too.

    He flipped the towel up on my back, and knelt behind me. I couldn't
    wait.

    I felt him guide his cock to my vagina, then -

    "Uh!"

    There was nothing subtle about that! He just rammed into me.

    He had his hands on my shoulders, and pulled me back as he pushed
    forward - it was the most violent sex we ever had! His hands went on my
    waist, pushing and pulling me, while he stayed still, using my vagina as he
    might have his own hand, to excite himself. I liked it, I liked him using
    me to satisfy himself that way! I was drenched with sweat and slick with
    my own lubrication.

    Then, he withdrew: but he wasn't done. Neither was I. It was too soon
    to stop.

    I could feel his cock between my buttocks, and his fingers in me.

    He was moving moisture, wetting me down between my buttocks!

    Then I felt a blunt pressure on my anus - "Dave, what are. . ."

    "Be quiet" he interrupted. "I wanted to try this with my wife for a
    long time!" The pressure increased - he was so large, his pushing moved me,
    from on my knees to flat on my belly.

    "Maybe that'll be better" he grunted, and moved over me, pressing again.


    "Get your hands on your ass cheeks, spread them!"

    I couldn't help myself - I reached behind me, pulling, spreading,
    feeling more pressure, feeling him move his cock around, feeling my
    spreading, and then, the pressure stopped, and a sense of fullness invaded
    my body - I felt stretched, some pain, and then his groin against my
    buttocks - he was fully in me!

    These sensations were all different, the small pains, the feeling of him
    moving, pushing, there, until I felt those small movements he makes, just
    as he comes.

    He collapsed on me, the stress of the project, of the presentation, and
    the sex, finally exhausting him.

    Finally, he rolled off me, asleep.

    I cuddled against him, my own fingers busy, working on releasing me,
    aware of him, aware of feeling sexy, of satisfying my husband, of being a
    little trashy, and loving it. I knew I loved it, because it didn't take
    much touching before I came, too.

    We awoke in each other's arms.

    "You're wonderful," he said. "Did I hurt you?"

    "Dave, you probably don't want to hear this. I'll have trouble sitting
    for a couple of days. I think you caused hemorrhoids!"

    Nevertheless, we quickly took a shower together, and as quickly got back
    in bed, and instead of having sex, made love for an hour. "I have to go to
    the convention" he said, finally, at 10:30. "It's been a new product
    development and a presentation meeting and a way of meeting the sexiest
    wife a guy could have, all in one project. What can top this?"

    Nothing could. We were acting like lovers again. My efforts paid off.

    When we returned home I took the $200 he gave me and bought a sexy
    little black dress - you know the kind, short, simple, showing lots of leg.
    I'd save it for a special occasion, I thought. To complete the outfit,
    since it was going to be used for trashy occasions, I bought a garter belt
    and stockings. That'll surprise him! Oh yeah, the whole outfit cost a lot
    more than $200, but any women reading this would know that.

    We didn't have the opportunity to play our game for a couple of months.
    Dave was still busy at work, getting his new instrument into manufacturing,
    and besides, we had plenty of quality time together, without me playing at
    being a tramp.

    Dave did say, though, he couldn't wait for "that other Liz" to show up.

    Dave had to travel to Salt Lake City, to meet with some people who were
    interested in the new product and had questions that were best answered
    face to face.

    "It's only a couple of days. Come along with me, OK?"

    It was easy to take Wednesday and Thursday off. Besides, I wanted to
    play whore to my husband again, and traveling provided the opportunity.

    We arrived Wednesday afternoon, and toured the city, dominated by its
    Mormon population. It was lovely.

    Dave's meeting was the following morning. "Let's have dinner in the
    hotel dining room" he suggested. That was OK with me.

    "I've got to change," I told him.

    "Oh. OK. I'll go down and wait for you. Or maybe," he hinted, "some
    lovely woman will come by and keep me company."

    He did want me to act like a whore again. If he knew what I packed,
    he'd know I wanted to, too. I packed my special outfit. I decided to do
    it right, and wore only the garter belt and stockings under the dress.

    It fit so well, it made me feel sexy, and not really exposed. I
    practiced sitting, though. It didn't take much of a mistake before
    stocking tops were visible - I didn't want that to happen accidentally.

    I was ready, and went down to find him in the lounge.

    "Hi, big guy", I greeted him. "Wanna party?"

    He turned to me, his eyes lit up with excitement. He extended his hand.
    "My name's Dave. Who are you?"

    "My friends call me Liz."

    "Hi, Liz, I love your outfit. Want a drink?"

    This was fun!

    After a few minutes he said "Want to come to my room and see my
    etchings?"

    "For $200 I can be an art critic."

    "Come on, then. Maybe you'll model for me, too." He stood, grabbed my
    hand, and began leading me to the elevators.

    Just as we got there we were intercepted by a well dressed tall, broad
    man.

    "Excuse me."

    "Yes?" Dave asked.

    "We don't allow this sort of thing in this hotel. Miss, if you don't
    leave, I'll call the police."

    We looked at each other, shocked.

    "But, she's my wife!"

    "Sir, come on. I saw what happened. Don't make this worse than it is.
    Soliciting is a crime. So's hiring a prostitute. You'll be arrested, and
    Salt Lake City has a policy of publishing John's names."

    Dave simply left me and the man standing there, and walked to the front
    desk. "I demand to see the manager."

    A woman came out.

    Dave, who's usually cool, went on a rant. "Accusing me of being a
    John." "Accusing my wife of being a prostitute." "I'll sue you for every
    nickel." These were some of his calmer lines.

    I produced a driver's license for identity.

    "But I saw her pick him up in the bar" the house detective complained.

    Before it was over, we had an apology, and an offer to comp our room and
    meals. Big deal, it was an expense account trip. Well, it was funny, but
    it changed the mood for the eveing.

    When we were finally alone at dinner, we couldn't help but laugh.

    "You're too obvious when you play a hooker," Dave said, between
    chuckles.

    "Someday, maybe, you should try to pick up a stranger. I'd love to see
    that!"

    "You're out of your mind," I countered, "It's hard enough being able to
    act like a whore for you!"

    "I can dream, can't I?" he replied, and the conversation ended because
    we saw the detective come into the dining room. Dave waved him over, and
    bought him a drink. "All's forgiven."

    There was no role playing that night.

    On the flight home Dave regretted that.

    "I like when you're trashy, Liz, it's fun."

    "Maybe next time," I suggested.

    He had a glint in his eye. "Yeah, maybe next time. There are some
    things I'd like to do that my wife would never allow."

    Wow. I wonder what he had in mind. He wouldn't say, though, "After
    all, you're my wife. I wouldn't want to do tell you about that dark side
    of my nature. Except, like I was saying, maybe sometime you should try it
    outside the immediate family. That'd be an experience."

    I dismissed that idea - "You're really brave, talking like that, when
    we're on the way home. What kind of a guy would even think of such a
    thing?"

    "Oh, a voyeur kind of guy. But let's talk about how we're going to
    spend my bonus, instead."

    He kept his word - I tried to probe him, asking what he might want from
    me, or from that other woman he picks up from time to time.

    Nothing! No hint. "That'll be between that other Liz, and me, honey,"
    is how he explained his reticence.

    "That's OK", I thought. Life with Dave was pretty wonderful now. His
    professional success was obvious, our personal life was exciting, filled
    with all I hoped for. I had a warm, loving, successful husband who loved
    me.

    Three weeks later Dave was part of the team responsible for entertaining
    an agent for an investor group that wanted to help take the small company
    he worked for public. Bridge financing, IPO's, and dreams of making a
    basket full of money on the options Dave held sure got our interest.

    The on site due diligence went on for a couple of days - that's the in
    depth investigation these guys do before committing to the deal. It's a
    high pressure time, there's a lot at stake.

    "My turn in the barrel tonight, Liz" Dave explained. Henry, Dave's
    boss, had agreed to the VC's (Venture Capitalist's) request that he have an
    afternoon and evening alone with Dave, who after all was the bright eyed
    guy who developed the product that was making the company a winner.

    Henry, Dave said, told him "Don't lie to Mr. Spart, answer his
    questions, and be a good host. He figures you're a key man in this deal,
    and if you impress him, he thinks making you manager of a new division
    would really move us along. Go get him!"

    Mr. Spart, Dave told me, "He said to call him 'Tony'" was a guy about
    40, really smart, and "I think I could like working with this guy".

    About 9 that evening I got a phone call from Dave.

    "How's your evening going, honey?" I wanted to know.

    "Tony's quite a guy, we're really hitting it off. We're going over to
    his hotel to have a nightcap in a half hour or so."

    "Good. I guess you'll be home by eleven or so, then, huh?"

    "Uh, yeah, maybe. Uh, Liz. . ."

    "What, honey?"

    "Honey, do you think that other Liz might be around?"

    "She'll be waiting for you when you get home, big guy, if that's what
    you want.."

    "That's not what I mean, honey. This is a big deal, this deal with
    Tony."

    "I know that."

    "Well, he was asking me if there was any action in town. . ."

    "What kind of action - wait, do you mean, like, hookers?"

    "Yeah, like hookers."

    "Well, that hotel, isn't that where that woman tried to pick you up?
    Won't she be there?"

    "I don't know, but I was thinking about something else. You know, like
    the way you like to act, sometimes? Like, I'd like to see you do that for
    real, sometimes, and maybe. . ."

    "You don't mean, you can't possibly be thinking, that I'd. . ."

    "That's exactly what I was thinking, because you're so good when you act
    like that, and if you tried to pick me up tonight I'd buy you for Tony!
    There, I said it."

    "How could you even think of such a thing?"

    "I told you," he started to say, "that I have a dark side . . ." but by
    then I slammed the phone down. I didn't want to hear anymore. I was
    irate!

    I mean, pretending to pick up my husband was one thing, but to actually
    pretend to be a prostitute, a whore, a hooker, with another guy, that was
    outrageous!

    Unthinkable!

    My intellectual side was furious with my husband, but my emotional side
    let itself be heard, too.

    I realized I was horny! How could that be?

    How could approaching a stranger, even if he was as safe as can be, and
    having a fling, a one-nighter, excite me?

    A stranger, touching me! A stranger that my husband approved of,
    touching me!

    Fucking me!

    Outrageous!

    I realized I had gone to the bedroom, full of fury, slamming the door
    closed, hard enough to tilt a picture on the wall.

    Another door slammed - I looked, and realized it was the closet door,
    and that I had taken out the simple black dress.

    What was I doing?

    A shower. That'll help me think, and cool down, and drown some of the
    anger I was feeling.

    I realized it wasn't all anger. There was excitement, too. What an
    outrageous idea, to seduce someone.

    Could I even do that?

    Well, it worked on my husband. I was probably pretty enough. I looked
    in the bathroom mirror as I toweled myself dry, taking inventory. If I
    dressed nicely, I realized, I'd look younger than thirty-two. There wasn't
    much fat reflected in the mirror. My nipples were erect, my whole body
    looked a little flushed.

    I was horny!

    He wants me to be a whore for a night. How could he think that about
    me?

    Besides, what would a whore really wear when she was working?

    "Well," my intellectual side said, "she'd dress for the environment.
    Like, that hotel has lots of parties, so she'd probably wear a dress like
    mine. I wonder if she'd wear a bra, or anything? You wouldn't want to
    look too trashy, but salesmanship means making the buyer want to buy. Try
    it on, see how it looks."

    That was a harmless idea. I'd do it! I'd see what it looked like to
    dress the part.

    "A working girl would wear the garter belt and stockings."

    I had that stuff. I wrapped myself with the garter belt, pulled on the
    stockings, and looked into the mirror again. "Ridiculous!" There was a
    woman, naked, except for stockings! "But that's a pretty common thing in
    those girlie magazines Dave used to buy," my brain reminded me.

    I looked again.

    That's right! I looked a little like some of those porno photos. Well,
    would my black dress look OK over just my body? It was too obvious when we
    were in Salt Lake City. That was earlier in the day, though.

    It did look good! The neckline scooped enough to show just the tops of
    my breasts and a little cleavage. I didn't have big breasts, so it looked,
    I thought, all right. I reached for the hair brush, and got my hair
    falling just the way Dave liked it - softly, to my shoulders, with just the
    most subtle wave.

    Makeup! Not much needed. A darker than usual lipstick.

    Scent: neck, ears.

    Hmmm. I reached behind me, moved the dress's zipper down. I watched in
    the mirror as it fall from my shoulders, and off. That was sexy! I'd bet
    a lot of guys would like to see that. I added scent to cleavage, and a
    little to thighs - no one was going to smell that, of course, but it felt
    good anyhow. I put the dress back on.

    I felt so damned sexy, and horny. It was still early, Dave wouldn't be
    home for a couple of hours. He'll be so surprised to see me dressed like
    this when he comes in. Me, all dressed up like one of those women, like
    the woman I sometimes pretended to be, for him.

    "The nerve of him", I thought, "wanting me to go there to the hotel, and
    play my game, with this other guy."

    Even while thinking it, I realized I was at the door, car keys in my
    hand.

    Even more surprising was finding myself in the car, driving to the
    hotel. What was the matter with me?

    Then, I understood. I liked pretending to be trashy, to be a whore. My
    husband liked it too. And he wants me to do this!

    AND SO DO I!!!

    I parked the car in the hotel's garage, went to the lobby, and to the
    lady's room there.

    A quick inspection in the mirror. Who was this woman, looking back at
    me?

    She looked wholesome enough - what was she doing here? How dare she?
    This was crazy.

    I can't!

    I left the rest room, back to the lobby, and down the stairs to the
    garage. I mean, playing the whore for my husband was one thing, but
    actually being one was something else - it wasn't me!

    Two guys were coming up the stairs as I was going down, and stepped
    aside as I passed.

    "Miss, you're one beautiful looking woman" one said to me as I passed.
    "I wish you were weren't leaving."

    I didn't say a thing, but continued to the garage, feeling complemented.
    I guess a working girl would have stopped and solicited them.

    At the door of the garage, I stopped. "I don't want to go!" my mind
    shouted. I felt sexy, trashy, and I was here because my husband wanted me
    to be here, and I wanted to be here, too. It was as much his doing as
    anyone's. "I'll go there, play around a little, just enough to get him
    upset, because he couldn't possibly want me to actually do it, and I wait
    to see how he handles it!"

    I walked fast through the lobby, took a deep breath, and went into the
    lounge.

    There he was, at a table, with another man - that must be Tony.

    Oops - I didn't have a plan! What do I do now?

    I'll let Dave do everything, I decided. Let him call the shots.

    I noticed a small table across the lounge. I'd have to pass by Dave and
    his guest to get there.

    Dave saw me as I approached his table, his mouth gapped, and he made a
    motion as if to stand, expecting me to join him. I didn't stop, of course,
    I avoided eye contact, and went to my table. Tony didn't notice Dave's
    reaction. He was looking around, I guess for a waitress or something. I
    did get a quick head-to-toe examination by him, though, as he glanced
    around the room.

    I got to my table as the waitress got to theirs.

    I was settling in, as she approached me. I guess every woman orders
    white wine in a place like this. Anyhow, she got a glass of it for me.

    I avoided looking toward Dave and Tony - it was difficult, but I did it.
    I was able to watch Dave pretty well, though, with peripheral vision. He
    was spending a lot of time looking at me, and from time to time his guest
    did, too.

    Something unexpected happened! A well dressed businessman sitting at
    the bar came to my table. "May I join you?"

    Now what? By then he was sitting down, introducing himself - "Hi, I'm
    Mike. Do you live around here?"

    I explained that I was waiting for my husband to show up, it was the
    only story I could think of that would make him realize I wasn't available
    for pick-up.

    After a minute or two he left my table, and the lounge, knowing he was
    looking for action in all the wrong places. If he only knew how excited,
    how horny, his stopping at my table made me. He thought I was available. I
    WAS sending out those vibrations!

    Dave sure noticed what happened, though.

    The waitress soon appeared at my table. "Those gentlemen wanted to buy
    you your next drink." She presented me with another glass of wine, nodding
    towards Dave and Tony.

    I took the glass, smiled at them, and raised it in a toast.

    Dave and Tony raised their glasses as well. After a sip, Tony came to
    my table. "Miss, would you like to join us? My name's Tony, and my friend
    is Dave."

    He took my hand, and led me to their table. "Dave, this lovely creature
    is Liz."

    Dave stood, extending his hand. "Hi, Liz. I'm Dave."

    "I don't often get to Austin," Tony said, making conversation, "but it's
    a nice city. Where would a lovely woman like you suggest a visitor go?"

    I talked about the LBJ Library on U of T's Campus, of the older parts of
    town, some of the places I like to visit.

    "You and Dave here have a lot of common interests, he was suggesting
    some of the same places to me," Tony said. "My business here is almost
    through, I hope I'll have some time to visit them."

    That didn't sound very good - "Oh, what business are you in?"

    "We do investments. My job is to do a preliminary investigation, and if
    I like what I see, my boss comes and tries to do a deal. I like it here,
    and I think my boss will like it too. After we do the deal, though, he's
    the one who visits and keeps tabs on it. Austin is kind of a one night
    stand for me. Dave and I are sort of celebrating doing a deal. What kind
    of work do you do?"

    I paused. "A little of everything."

    "What's that mean?"

    I looked at Dave for help.

    He offered none.

    I continued. "Oh, sometimes a little entertaining, things like that."

    Tony wasn't dumb.

    "Oh. Well, we could use some entertainment. Do you, uh, entertain at
    night, sometimes?"

    "Sometimes."

    Dave spoke up. "Could we hire you to entertain us? We're having a
    little celebration."

    "You're having a private party here?"

    "Yeah, Liz, we are," Dave said. "We're celebrating. Com'on. Join the
    party.

    "Tony, I'll bet she'd be happy to join the party for a fee."

    "What's the going rate, Liz?" Tony asked.

    "Uh, if I ever did anything like that, for the evening, it'd be $500."

    "Hell, I'm good for that. You're on, Liz."

    Tony was a little drunk! So, it seemed, was Dave.

    "Lemme get another drink here for us," Dave said. "That OK with you,
    Liz, before. . .?"

    "Sure, let's do that, first,†Tony agreed.

    Was my husband not wanting what he asked me to do? The drinks were
    served, and Dave finished his, first.

    I watched, wondering, almost hoping he'd do something to stop this.

    But, he stood, reached for my hand, and pulled me to my feet. "Com'on,
    Liz. Com'on, Tony. Let's go upstairs."

    Tony turned to me. "Yeah, Liz, come on up."

    "Come on, Liz. It'll be a great party!" My husband, his face flushed,
    really did want this!

    I stood, and watched Tony sign the check at the bar, arrange something
    with the bartender, and lead us out.

    "I'm having a couple of bottles of Champagne sent to my room. That'll
    be a good start."

    The three of us got to the elevator, and in. When the doors closed,
    Tony turned to me.

    "You're one beautiful woman, Liz. I'm glad you're coming up with us."

    He held my hand, and pulled me closer, into an embrace. His head moved
    toward me, and I reflexively tilted mine, and our lips met!

    And his tongue pressed against my lips, and between them -

    and I was kissing a man the way I only kissed my husband!

    "It's going to be a nice party, Dave," Tony said, as he released me.
    "Liz has the sweetest lips. Would you like to try them?"

    He turned me around, facing my husband.

    "Yeah, I would!"

    In a moment I was in his arms, his kiss as passionate as Tony's.

    "I think I'm going to get to do things tonight I never do with my wife"
    he muttered, then kissed me again.

    In a minute we were at Tony's suite - two rooms, a living room, and a
    bedroom. Dave plopped himself down in the middle of the sofa. Tony got
    the in-room music system on, and the sounds of a Spanish Guitar filled the
    suite.

    "Let's wait for room service. Look around, it's a nice suite."

    Dave and I wandered into the bedroom, looked out the window, overlooking
    the Austin skyline.

    I whispered to him, "Are you sure about this?"

    "You bet! I want you do do anything he wants. He's a good guy, and I
    want him to have a good time here."

    "You asked for it, buddy!"

    There was a knock at the door, and in came room service, with the two
    bottles of Champagne in ice buckets, and 8 glasses, all on a cart.

    "Anything else, sir?" the attendant asked, as Tony signed the bill.
    "Nothing from you," Tony responded, closing the door.

    "We're all set for our celebration," Tony said. "Let's get the business
    out of the way, first." His wallet came out, and five one hundred dollar
    bills appeared in his hand. "Put this away, Liz."

    He picked up a bottle and went to sit on the sofa, where Dave had
    returned. . The first cork went flying across the room, and the amber
    fluid cascaded into three glasses.

    Tony raised his. "To the success of our venture, Dave, and to a
    memorable way of celebrating its start with Liz. Come on over here, Liz,
    and sit between us."

    Dave responded: "I'll drink to that. Will you, Liz?"

    I lifted my glass, and joined in the toast.

    Too soon, the glasses were empty.

    There was silence for a minute.

    "What are you guys celebrating?" I asked.

    "Oh, a kind of partnership. It's sort of a way of sharing success. You
    see, my company can provide the money to Dave's company for them to expand
    pretty fast. In this kind of sharing, everyone wins. I really like
    sharing. I like to share nearly everything."

    "I especially like to share beautiful things."

    "And, Liz, you're really beautiful."

    He put his glass down, turned to me, and pulled me toward him, turning
    me, so I was laying back in his lap. My legs almost automatically moved
    onto Dave's lap.

    He lifted me, until our lips met.

    Again, lips touched, opened, and tongues touched.

    "You're an exciting woman, Liz" he said, holding me with one hand, while
    the other caressed my check, then my neck, and throat.

    It reached the top of my breast, and I lifted up, my arms around his
    neck, kissing back, as that hand went lower, under my dress until it found
    my nipple.

    He was touching my breast! Now what? Was I really doing this, this
    whore role? With my husband right here?

    I could feel Dave squirming under my legs, I could feel his excitement,
    and mine, too.

    "I love women who don't wear bras when they go out at night, Liz. You
    feel so fine. . ." and there was another kiss.

    The kiss ended. "Sit up a little, Liz." I did. I felt his hand on my
    back, and the tension in the dress eased as the zipper he found glided
    down, quietly.

    I found myself staring at Dave, and he at me, as Tony pushed the dress
    to my shoulders, and down to an elbow. "Pull that arm out, Liz."

    There was fire, excitement in my husband's eyes. "Yeah, pull your arm
    out!" he said.

    I did, and used it to hold the dress against my chest.

    "Now the other arm, Liz."

    I did that too, and laid my head back down in Tony's lap, holding the
    dress to my breasts.

    "Dave, I'll bet you can figure out how to open that sash," Tony said.
    Dave looked at it, and I looked at him. I looked as my husband reached to
    my waist, and released the sash that helped the dress gather in at my hips!


    "This party is getting pretty good now, Liz" Tony said. "Do you like
    it, Dave?"

    "Oh, yeah. She's great."

    I looked up at Tony, my head on his thighs, while I held my dress in
    place.

    "You won't be able to cover yourself with that drss much longer, Liz",
    Tony said. "There's something else better for you to be doing with those
    hands."

    I looked at him, not understanding.

    "My belt, Liz, work on my belt."

    I rolled my head - right there in front of me was his crotch.

    I used one hand on his belt, holding my dress up with other.

    He used his hands to grab at his belt, helping me get it released, and
    then the buttons holding his pants together.

    "You do the zipper, Liz."

    I did do the zipper, while he unbuttoned the lower part of his shirt..

    He bridged a little, and with both hands on his waistband, pushed down.

    I lifted up a bit, and felt the band of material pass under my back, to
    his knees.

    When I let my head fall back, his penis was in front of my face.

    He put a hand on my cheek, turning my head even more, and pulling me
    toward that swollen organ.

    "Take it, Liz, let the party begin."

    "Do everything he wants," Dave told me.

    I felt pressure against my lips, and at the same time felt a tug on my
    dress. Dave was pulling it off!

    I opened my mouth to accept Tony's cock, and at the same time lifted my
    hips, and felt the dress slide over my breasts, my belly, my thighs.

    I lifted my legs, firmly together, and felt my dress, being pulled by my
    husband, slide over them, and over my feet, toes extended, too.

    Except for garter belt and stockings, I was nude! And excited! And
    horny!

    "Look, Tony, Liz is dressed for entertaining!" Dave said, excitedly,
    looking at me, exposed, nothing hidden, a tramp!

    Both my hands went to the penis in my mouth, one holding the shaft, the
    other reaching under, cupping his scrotum. I did this to other men before
    I was married, but that was so long ago, this all seemed so new, so strage,
    so exciting, with two men, one a man I loved, the other, this stranger, who
    didn't know who I was, really. My own eyes were closed, now, but I knew
    Tony was holding my head to him with one hand, and the other seemed to be
    fondling my breast.

    There were other fingers tracing along my leg, pausing at my knee. It
    was Dave’s fingers, and his hand went between my knees, and pushed,
    encouraging my legs apart. I complied, and felt that hand, those fingers,
    move up along my inner leg, higher, and I rotated my hips a little,
    presenting myself to my husband’s fingers, while my mouth was busy pleasing
    Tony. Dave’s fingers found the lips they knew so well, found them moist,
    found them in a context neither of us would have ever expected, and found
    their way between them, into them, into me! I never had as much
    stimulation as I was feeling at the moment.

    "Tony, Liz is so wet - I think she likes this!" Dave was touching me, he
    knew I wasn't acting, the moisture he felt proved that. I had not tasted
    another penis for so long. . .or felt another man touch my breasts, or had
    ever been with two men like this!

    Heaven!

    My hips were pushing into Dave's fingers, this penis in my mouth, a
    stranger's penis, while my husband fingered me, so exciting. . .

    I was doing it -

    - being a prostitute.

    Acting out what Dave wanted, what I wanted.

    Not acting - doing it!

    My body shuddered - orgasm, already! I actually came!

    It wasn't over. "Let's go to the bedroom." Tony said that.

    "Yeah, let's do that. I want her, and I want to see you fuck her too,"
    Dave said.

    He pulled me to a sitting position, and then - it had to look ridiculous
    really, with Tony holding up his pants with one hand, and me by the other,
    and with Dave pulling on my other hand, tripping over clothes, going into
    the bedroom.

    Tony released me, and in two frantic pulls, had the cover and blanket
    off the bed.

    "Get in the middle of the bed, Liz."

    I did. It stopped looking rediculous. It looked just like it was -
    very serious.

    I watched this powerful man get his shirt unbuttoned, and off. "Join
    the party, Dave. You can't be the only one dressed," Tony commanded. Dave
    was pulling at shirt and pants and socks while Tony calmly stepped out of
    his pants, and stood at the foot of the bed, erect, horny, and very
    obviously in control.

    Finally, Dave matched him, also standing there.

    "Liz, can you satisfy two horny men?" Tony asked.

    "I, I don't know."

    "Dave, go to the head of the bed."

    Dave moved there, kneeling beside me, while Tony went to the other end.

    "This is how I like to consummate a deal," Tony said, reaching toward my
    knees, pushing them apart, and moving between them.

    Dave and I both watched as he moved into position, between my legs still
    clad with stockings, his cock throbbing. He leaned forward, supporting
    himself with his hands at my shoulders.

    And paused.

    "Dave's my guest tonight. I'd like to see his cock in your mouth."

    Dave moved closer, and I turned my head, mouth open, one hand reaching
    for his shaft, grasping it, moving it, until my lips closed over it. This
    was a familiar taste!

    "Use your other hand on me!"

    I did. I found his cock, posed above me, spread my legs a little, and
    moved it, up and down, its head stoking my vulva, just as my fingers did at
    the beginning of this story.

    I turned away from Dave, and lifted my head, looking down, along my
    body, along his.

    Tony's cock was at my crotch. He moved, and I felt increased pressure,
    then that sensation of entry,

    of spreading,



    of penetration.

    I looked down to see our pelvises merged,

    I could feel him in me, moving,

    and then I looked at Dave, who was watching the same thing, watching
    this man's cock disappear into his wife. What was he thinking?

    "That's what adultry feels like," my mind whispered, while Dave watched.
    His mouth was open, his face red - with excitement, I hoped.

    I reached up with both hands, pulled at his waist, bringing him closer.

    He was excited. I could see his cock throbbing, and I tilted my head,
    so it was at my lips, then in my mouth again.

    I lay there, legs spread, Tony pumping into me, Dave rocking back and
    forth, fucking my mouth, while my hand kept control of his cock, preventing
    him from pushing too deeply, and stroking him, exciting him as much as I
    could.

    I heard Tony say "This is how to celebrate a deal!" and heard a slap
    they did a high five over me.

    Tony was ramming into me - he didn't care about me, I was something to
    fuck - only his pleasure mattered to him.

    Dave's hand covered the hand I was using to hold his cock.. He began
    helping me masturbate himself, using my mouth the way he'd use a tissue to
    catch what he ejaculated.

    I felt trashy. And excited, too.

    It didn't take very long before my husband was too excited - my mouth,
    and his hand, provided all of the stimulation he could handle. He grunted
    there was that change in size and shape and texture, and I got a bolus of
    sperm from him.

    "Pull out, Dave, I want to see you come on her!" Tony muttered, his own
    climax about to happen.

    Dave did - I felt a wetness on my cheek, and another on my neck as his
    hand pumped his cock, rougher and harder than I ever imagined a man would
    enjoy.

    At the same time Tony erupted - it was sensory overload for me.

    We had a minute's recovery.

    Tony, beside me, lifted up, and looked at me. "Liz, you're a mess.
    Let's the three of us get in the shower. There's another $300 in it if you
    stay a while longer with us."

    He got up, pulling at me.

    The two of us were in the bathroom, trailed by a dragging Dave.

    I pulled off my stockings and garter belt, and entered the shower with
    them. It was too small for anything to happen with three wet bodies in it.
    We stepped out, and I dried off two men, both of whom were getting erect
    again, while I was dried by them. Fondled would be a better way to
    describe it.

    "Let's go back to the bedroom," Tony said.

    Tony pulled a tube of something from his kit.

    "Dave, lay down, OK?"

    Dave lay on the bed, on his back, almost erect.

    "Liz, get on him, OK?"

    We've made love a lot of times with me on top. I got in that position,
    and guided his cock into me - it was getting harder! He wasn't finished,
    or if he was, he was recovering!

    I began moving on my husband, enjoying it, enjoying him, enjoying the
    excitement in his eyes, enjoying him leaning up to meet my breasts,
    enjoying knowing that Tony was watching this, too. I felt the bed move,
    Tony was behind me. He wanted to do more than watch!

    I could feel his hands on my back, moving between my buttocks. There
    was a jolt of coolness!

    "What's that?" I wanted to know.

    "Oh, it's just a body lotion, a lubrication. You're going to need it."

    I could feel Dave moving in me, but my senses were concentrating on
    Tony's fingers, and that cooling, now warming, lotion, that he put on me.
    His fingers moved lower, and I could feel the lotion spreading, over my
    anus.

    And his finger pushed in there!

    "You're not going to. . ." I started to say, but he interrupted "Oh,
    but I am. I want to feel Dave's cock in your cunt while mine is in your
    ass. . ."

    And his finger was replaced with the pressure of something bigger,
    pushing, forcing, his actions forcing me down harder on my husband, who was
    getting very excited, too.

    The pushing blunt force changed to a stretching one, almost painful, and
    then that full feeling, as Tony moved into me, into my ass, and I could
    feel both of them in me, and I knew they could feel each other's penis,
    too, as I was sandwiched between them. I'm glad they both came before - if
    they were as horny as they had been, as hard as they had been, as big, I'd
    be torn apart.

    Tony had his hands around me, grabbing at breasts, as he pushed into me.
    His actions caused all of the motion Dave and I needed, for him to move in
    me, too.

    It overwhelmed me, and I collapsed flat on my husband. Tony continued
    for a while longer, then his pace changed, too - I recognized his body
    language as he ejaculated what little he had left. Finally, tired, he
    pulled out, and rolled off me.

    In a few minutes, he was breathing deeply and regularly - he fell
    asleep! Dave whispered "You were great, I love you. But, maybe you should
    go home. I'll be there soon."

    "OK, you're right."

    I started to get out of bed, then stopped.

    I reached over and shook Tony.

    "Huh" he said, awakening.

    "Tony, I'm going to go. You owe me another $300."

    "Uh, oh yeah. Dave, will you hand me my wallet?"

    Dave did. Tony took out four bills. "There's an extra hundred - that's
    a tip for being so good. Goodnight. I gotta get some sleep!"

    I pulled on my dress and shoes, leaving my guarter belt and stockings,
    and crept out of the room.

    A half hour later I was at home in the shower, worried.

    What was happening to me, to my marriage? What would Dave think?

    That question was answered nicely, The shower door opened, and a naked
    Dave came in, too. Naked, and horny, carrying my stockings and belt, a
    leer on his face.

    We washed each other, the way newlyweds often do.

    And dried each other, too, and went to bed, hugging, until we slept.

    I awoke to the sensation of a mouth on my breast.

    "Good Morning, lover," Dave said, when he saw I was awake.

    "Are we all right?" I asked, wanting reassurance.

    "Never better" he said.

    And he proved it.

    Later that evening, after work, he told me that when Tony was leaving,
    he asked my husband to drop by the hotel a couple of times to try to locate
    me. Tony wanted to find out my name and number, because he wanted to be
    able to contact me when he brought his boss to Austin. "He wants to show
    his boss what it's like to ride a Texas girl," Dave said.

    "So, Liz," Dave said, "when they come back in a couple of weeks, am I
    going to tell them I know how to contact you, or do you want to
    accidentally show up at the hotel when they're there, or do you want to
    give up the game?"

    "I don't want to be a hooker, honey, except to please you."

    "Oh. Well, that's too bad. I think you'd be able to get the two of
    them in a good mood and that would help close the deal. That would please
    me."

    I thought about that for a while.

    And decided.

    "Well, in that case. . . ."


    End
     
    ColinRupert, badhabbit and NECuck like this.
  2. Tarnaq

    Tarnaq New Member

    Super sexy!!

    Wow loved your story!!! So sexy and just an outstanding story and we'll written too!! Btw the sexy wife shouldn't have to feel insecure about wanting to please her husband and herself!!! If I'm ever in Austin I could only hope.for a similar encounter!!
     
  3. banhkemsua7

    banhkemsua7 Member

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