Ascending Lauren

[SimpleEnigma]

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Chapter 14
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December 17th. Ten weeks to go.

The bright yellow Kia Soul looked out of place in a neighborhood primarily comprised of pool halls and adult toy shops. It's driver, a young man barely into his 20s, swiveled his head to and fro as the import rolled through the dimly lit streets of Little Havana. The coordinates his friend Chloe had sent him were just ahead, but there wasn’t a soul around, save for a homeless person here and there. With a bit of confusion, he slowed to a stop in front of an Asian grocery store, long closed for the evening. Only a few run-down tenements lined this stretch of the road, with a dark access alley off to one side.

The youngster was about to verify the location when he saw a woman stumble from the shadows, desperately tugging on a football jersey in a futile attempt to cover her nether regions. As the tattered apparition approached the car, the white of her thighs and the slit between them were plainly visible. Eyes wide, the youngster threw the compact into park and hurriedly grabbed a sleeping bag from the back seat.

“I’m Charlie. Are you Lauren?” he asked, already knowing the answer. He wrapped the warm material around the frail specter and helped her into the front seat.

She nodded and breathed a sigh of relief as the boy put the car into gear. “Thank you,” she managed.

“Don't mention it. Chloe told me where to find you.”

“You saved me from some real embarrassment. Don’t worry, I don’t live too far from here.”

Charlie shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road. “I've been asked to take you to Sandy’s.”

“But I can’t. I’m half naked.”

The young man chuckled. “So are most of the women there.” Then, seeing his ill-timed joke had fallen flat, added, “No worries, we’ll go in the back door."

Lauren winced at the reference. Hers had just been take viciously and without lube, and right now it itched like hell.

+++++

Few at Randy Sandy's gave notice to the young buck who had become somewhat of a mascot backstage as he helped the chick with the sleeping bag through the employee entrance. Navigating past a small kitchen, the pair ended up in a long and narrow dressing room with two or three half-clad showgirls.

“You can wait for Chloe here,” Charlie motioned to a stool in front of a brightly lit vanity.

Lauren sat down obediently, loosening the thick cloth around her waist. Several dancers glanced briefly at the woman with the smeared makeup, sizing her up, but thought nothing of it as they made their way to the stage. They’d see lots of things at the strip club and little surprised them anymore.

Suddenly, the DJ’s voice made a blustery announcement through the overmodulated PA.

“Allllllrightttttt, Sandies, let’s give it up for our own Autumn Breeze! Nice work out there, Autumn! Next up for your Saturday night enjoyment, please welcome Cherry and Jade!”

A few minutes later, 20-year-old Chloe appeared in the dressing room, slightly out of breath, a glistening sheen of sweat covering her near naked body. Her splotchy red face turned to one of concern when she saw the disheveled brunette.

“Are you okay?” the dancer asked with a frown, handing Lauren a bottle of water. “What happened? It looks like you’ve been dragged through a ditch.”

Lauren choked up as she told her about the Cubans, the emotions pouring out in one unabashed stream of consciousness.

“Wow," Chloe's eyebrows arched, "I gotta say, that was incredibly stupid."

“I know, I know. I wasn’t thinking.”

Chloe stood and tossed her a pair of sweatpants. “Listen, we need to have a talk. But I have to do one more set. Then we’ll get you home.”

With that, the sagacious entertainer turned to leave. Lauren grabbed her hand just before she disappeared from the dressing room.

“Chloe?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for helping me. Why did you have Charlie bring me here and not take me home?”

The dancer smiled kindly at the rumpled creature.

“Maybe because I like you. Maybe because I wanted to personally make sure you were okay."

Above appreciative clapping from club patrons, the DJ once again began making his sensuous introductions.

"Or maybe I just wanted to see you again.”

The women held an affable gaze until the music began its rhythmic thumping.

“Alright Sandies! Here she is, back on the main stage, let’s welcome the draft that always warms our hearts, Miss...Autumn...Breeze!”

+++++

Thirty minutes after Chloe's sizzling set, she and Charlie helped the older woman into her apartment. Soon, a freshly showered Lauren appeared in a fluffy white robe to a batch of smoothies the young man had whipped up with whatever he could find in the fridge. Settling on the couch in the small living area, they all sipped the cold concoctions in silence, smiling like a bunch of teenagers at the ice cream store.

Eventually, Chloe tapped Charlie’s knee. There were some girl things she wanted to discuss, and it would be best if he wasn't around.

“It’s been a long night, Chaz. I’m going to hang out for a while and then catch a taxi. Thanks for the solid, man.”

Nodding somewhat reluctantly, the boy said his goodbyes and Lauren showed him to the door with a gentle kiss on the cheek. “I owe you one,” she said sincerely, once more acknowledging his help.

After Charlie left, the office manager sat down next to the young dancer.

“He looks awfully young. What’s his story?”

Chloe looked at the floor and smirked. “Well, let’s see. He’s a year older than me. We were both raised in the same orphanage, and we’ve hung out ever since. Charlie's been like a big brother to me, although there's always been something else bubbling beneath the surface. When I started working at Sandy’s, he hung around, first as a customer, then offering to help here and there. Didn’t take long to endear himself to the girls and staff. Now he’s just part of the scenery, being a gopher and watching out for us.”

“But you don’t feel the same way?”

“Maybe,” Chloe sighed. “Doubt we’ll ever find out though. I friend-zoned him a long time ago. I think that ship has sailed.”

“Ah, unrequited love.”

“Not that simple. I do have feelings for him…and he’d be the perfect boyfriend…but that’s exactly the reason I don’t pursue it.” She paused, trying to find the right words, “You see, I get paid to be objectified. Whether its stripping or escorting, it’s a situation that most guys can’t handle in a relationship. I mean, some might, but they’re usually into that kind of thing to begin with.”

Lauren coughed. Like my Corey .

“So why not let Charlie decide what he can and can't handle?”

“Someday, yeah, I might. Right now, I think he cringes enough watching me take my clothes off, much less knowing good and well what I do in the back room and on my side job. As a friend, he tolerates it. As something more? Not sure he has the temperament.”

Lauren couldn't help but make the connection to her husband.

"Or maybe he could learn to enjoy it."

The dancer looked at the older woman curiously but let it go.

“Enough about me,” Chloe wagged her finger. “You know you took a huge risk tonight. Forget about them maybe stiffing you, they could’ve left you for dead in that alley and you’d be known to Miami-Dade County as just another a cold case.”

Lauren shook her head, eyes watering. “I know, I know.”

“Tell me something. I really want to understand. Your husband’s out of town, and you have a lot of itches to scratch. I get that. Not much different from the cast of thousands that come into Sandy’s. Or you know, hire someone for sex without strings. But most of them aren't selling themselves to get what they need. What on earth possessed you to go down an alley with strangers as a wannabe?”

Dabbing her eyes, the Iowan wife contemplated the word “possessed”. That’s what it felt like sometimes. Kumiho?

“I-I-I…it’s, uh, you know, something that keeps me up at night.”

Chloe stroked Lauren's hair, trying to ease her mind. “Now we’re getting somewhere. A fantasy? About selling yourself?”

“Hmm,” the brunette breathed slowly, her eyes rolling back as the girl’s fingers caressed her locks. “But not just that.”

“Tell me.”

“I really can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

Lauren exhaled. “My dreams. I get picked up by a pig of a man and we do it in the filthiest of places. He slaps me, roughs me up. And God help me, I love it.”

“So, tonight must have really hit the mark?”

“Yeah, it...it did."

The girls took a drink of their smoothies.

“You like it rough, huh?” Chloe smiled, openly tonguing the straw in her mouth. “A little submissive, are we?”

Lauren shrugged. “I never thought about it. I mean, not until that night with Corey’s friend.”

“What? You fucked his friend? A little close to home, isn't it?”

Shit. I just don't know when to keep my mouth shut. Could this night get any weirder? Reluctantly, but almost with a sense of cleansing, she proceeded to tell the stripper everything about the past six months. The initial flirting, how phone sex led to the threesome with Max Bemer. All the other trysts. Everything.

The more details Lauren provided, the hotter the young girl got. Part of being a sex worker was acting as a surrogate therapist to clients. Good ones did more than just spread their legs, they built rapport. But she was still a slut at heart, and hearing about the hot interludes aroused her to no end.

“Wait, you did Max Bemer? Club X Bemer? I’m jealous, he’s hot. That’s quite the resume for someone who's been a devoted wife for three decades.”

Lauren looked into the redhead’s eyes. “Are you psychoanalyzing me right now?”

Chloe brushed away the older woman’s bangs. “That’s half my job. The other half I think you've already seen.”

"Have I? Have I really?"

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, the mutual attraction indisputable. Each was desperately trying to keep their libidos in check.

“Sooooo," Lauren finally spoke, pulling away slightly from the dangerously attractive stripper. "What about you? Isn’t being an escort just as dangerous?”

“Not the kind of danger you were in. Sure, there’s always risk, but with my arrangement, clients must go through a screening process before I ever meet them. Yeah, a few idiots slip through now and again. They want more than what the talent signed up for and get pissed when they don't get it. But most know that Prurient Stables will come down on them hard in a very painful way if they ever get out of line. That's usually deterrent enough. But you, you had no threat of retribution, no safety net. Not smart.”

“What do you mean, what the talent signed up for?”

“Well, it’s a business. We tell the service what we're willing to do beyond the vanilla. S&M, bi, water sports, the list is endless. This goes in our profile, so when clients ask for a particular style, the service can match us up.”

“Like a skills section for a headhunter!”

“More or less.”

Lauren's mouth watered, a twinkle in her eye. “And what’s in your profile?”

Chloe bit her lip. It took everything to keep her from jumping the brunette's bones right then and there. She liked sex. Gender didn't matter. And not just because it was in her job description. She simply liked to fuck. Period. But unlike the amateur sitting next to her, the full-time dancer and part-time escort had long ago learned to exercise at least some control. It's what kept her alive. But it would be contemptible to hit on this woman right now. Tonight, she needed a friend, not a lover.

Sitting up straight, fluffing her hair, the redhead gently dropped Lauren’s hand and took a drink. The chilled beverage helped cool her down.

“So, hubby knows of your misadventures, huh?”

Lauren shifted on the couch, a bit disappointed that the girl had backed off.

“He does," she sighed. "Well, except for tonight. No way.”

“You’re not going to tell him?”

“How can I? It was too…too raw.”

“Okay, I may only be twenty,” Chloe offered, “but I’ve roleplayed more than one hotwife fantasy. Isn’t that just the kind of thing he would enjoying hearing about?”

Lauren shrugged. “I don’t think even Corey knows what he wants.”

She went on to explain that initially it was enough for her to dress provocatively, to get men to gawk. Then he wanted to share. Compersion, he said. It was all about her pleasure. No nursing “angst” or whatever the internet called it. He was just happy that she was happy. Then it turned darker, with questions like “how did he feel in you?”, “did you really cum?", and the classic “was he a better lover?” All hallmarks of a man craving to feel...inferior.

Chloe nodded. “Humiliation. It’s very common. But there are varying degrees. Stags, cuckolds, whatever the labels. Only classic cuckolds are said to enjoy the feeling, but I call bullshit. Seriously, can a guy watch his girl get pounded into next week by a better lover and not feel a touch of humiliation? Really? And if they didn't enjoy it, even just a little, why the hell are they allowing it in the first place?"

"Wow, I must say, that's pretty profound,” Lauren agreed. She’d never thought of it that way. “My Corey's only recently started exhibiting that tendency though. Maybe its just part of the journey the forums speak of, but I think it has a lot to do with him not being here for me. In some perverse way, he likes it that way. The less control he has over the situation, the more pleasure it triggers. I could sleep with the entire 7th fleet on shore leave and he couldn't stop it. I think that gets him off.”

"The 7th fleet, huh?” Chloe’s eyes lit up. “I need to know when that ship comes in."

The girls shared a giggle. Lauren went on to confide the overwhelming sympathy she felt for her beleaguered husband. Even though they had agreed to the arrangement…and her hall pass…there was a certain amount of guilt associated with partying in America's playground when the poor guy had nothing to look forward to but work and cold weather. She confessed to the video he secretly filmed of her in the neighbor’s apartment and pointed to it as just another pathetic example of just how much he was jonesing without her.

Chloe leaned back into the couch, both hands on her drink. Anything to help remove the temptation to reach out.

“So, let me get this straight. He likes to watch you have sex, that much is a given. He may have morphed any jealousy he experiences at the thought of you doing things behind his back into something that gratifies him. And he digs a bit of humiliation? Is that right.”

Lauren pursed her lips. She was amazed. How could such a young girl describe these things so succinctly? “That about sums up my Corey. But honestly, I think the humiliation is really just a way of punishing himself for not being here.”

Nodding slowly, Chloe gazed out the window of the 23rd floor apartment and down onto the lights of the city. The two sat in silence while she was lost in thought. Finally, with a long draw on the smoothie’s straw, the 20-year-old turned back to her friend.

“You know, when you like to fuck, I mean really, really like to fuck, it’s easy to go down a rabbit hole. Now, I’ve only been in the industry a couple years, but I’ve seen chicks who fucked themselves into sex rehab, or worse, drug addiction. Their lust destroyed them. And it's easier for us girls to find a fix cuz we can pretty much walk into any bar and find someone to feed the addiction.”

“Being one of those girls who likes to have my feet in the air, I have to be really careful. Not that I don’t let myself get crazy sometimes, but I’ve learned to channel it.”

Lauren nodded. “Into being a stripper and escort.”

“Well, sort of. Make no mistake, I’m a sex worker because of the money. But I was a huge slut before that. Just ask the varsity team my senior year. Now I get paid and I don’t have to go into an alley to get my fix. Two birds with one stone. And from what I’ve heard, you could use the same kind of focus.”

That caused the office executive to belly laugh. “We’ll, I’m too old to be competing with the likes of you on a stage.”

Chloe chuckled. “Don't knock it. MILFs rake it in."

"But sometimes I wonder if I'm broken now," Lauren sighed. "For nearly thirty years I was content to sleep with one man. A wonderful man, who was a great lover. Since he opened the door, I seem to be insatiable. Like the kid whose parents never let them do anything in high school, then goes off the deep end in college."

"Nonsense. You’ve rediscovered the joys of sex. Maybe the long suppressed slut in you is finally getting a chance to fuck. My only advice would be to channel it into something that helps you from chasing that rabbit.”

“If Corey was here, that would help.”

“But he’s not, right? So, you have to have the discipline yourself or you’re going to wind up dead in an alley. As for Corey, why not really push his buttons? Feed his Frankenstein. If he can’t bring his angst to you, you bring it to him.”

"And just how do you suggest I do that? I mean, I’ve live streamed, let him watch, told him the details later. All of that.”

Chloe's eyes closed. Then she grinned.

“Why not make your own sex tape?”

Lauren’s mouth fell open. “Jesus, you mean like a porno?”

“Not just any porno. One customized to ring his bell."

The older woman fidgeted uncomfortably.

“You’re joking.”

“Why not?” Chloe asked. She looked dead serious.

“And how is that any different than live streaming?”

"Well one, like I said, it's customized. The theme is tailored to a targeted audience. Second, the production values are better. And third, he can watch it over and over."

Great. Maybe Amelia can find that one. "I don't know if that's a good idea. Besides, I have no idea how to make a porno."

“That’s okay,” Chloe chortled. “I know a guy.”

“What?”

Chloe yawned. Six hours at the club, two of them in the back rooms with customers, had done her in.

“A film maker. Well, an amateur film maker. He provides tech setup to camgirls and does low budget vids for them to sell to their fans.”

Lauren cocked her eyebrows. “I couldn’t do that. I’m an executive at a large company. That gets out, I’m through.”

“It doesn’t have to. This is commissioned work. You know, like artwork, when you commission a sculptor to create a statue. Same thing. You both sign an NDA and only the client gets a copy.”

“I don’t think there’s much to work with here,” Lauren looked down.

“Cut the crap. You’re sexier than many women half your age. Most fifty-year-olds I see have long let themselves go. You're firm, tight. And hot. Really fucking hot. Plus, he does all sorts of themes. Gay, lesbian, trans. Even some scat and fake snuff stuff.”

“Snuff?”

“If you don’t know what that is, you probably don’t want to. Suffice it to say there isn’t much this guy hasn’t filmed. A hotwife bent won’t phase him one bit.”

“I don’t know.”

The redhead yawned again and laid her head on Lauren’s shoulder. “Think about it. For now, let’s just get some rest.”

Lauren turned off the lamp next to the couch and the pair stretched out in the dark holding each other, twinkling lights from the city as far as they could see. The young girl’s head felt good on her chest, crimson hair enveloping them like a blanket.

“So, you think I’m a MILF?” Lauren asked in a hushed voice.

“Hmmm,” Chloe murmured, pulling the older woman’s mouth down to hers. “You have no idea.”

+++++

Hours later, as the sun rose high over the Atlantic Ocean, Lauren’s eyes fluttered open to her cell phone dancing on the coffee table. Chloe was long gone. They must have passed out just after that long sensuous kiss.

Bleary eyed, she bent over and snatched up the buzzing device. It was Corey.

“Hi there.”

“There you are!” the happy husband exclaimed, breathing a sigh of relief. "I haven’t heard from you since the game yesterday. You okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry, must’ve had some bad, uh, sausage or something. I just came home and went to bed.” She inhaled sharply as a shadow crossed her heart. It was the first time she'd outright lied about her whereabouts.

“Sorry, that sucks. At least you got to see a great game!”

“It was a great game,” Lauren agreed, a little less enthusiastic about it than she’d been the previous day.

“So, listen, about this week. I’ve got a flight Friday morning. Should be there about ten-thirty.”

“Wait, what?”

Shit! She’d completely forgotten about their call at the bar.

“For my interview with Dactyl on Saturday. He’s coming down from Fort Lauderdale just to meet with me.”

Goddamnit, that’s the day of the stupid party.

“Figured I’d fly in on Friday, meet with him the next day, then hang out with you for a few.”

Lauren perked up at the prospect of spending time with her best guy. Maybe she could find someone else to chaperone. I mean, how hard could it be?

“That’s perfect, babe. I’ll see about getting off a little early that day."

“Cool, okay, well, it’s a date then,” Corey sighed. "I miss you."

“I miss you too,” Lauren assured him.

The couple said their goodbyes, ending the conversation on an upbeat mood. After hanging up, Lauren clasped her hands together. She wasn’t lying. She really did miss him. While he might not be able to deliver the goods physically like he used to, emotionally she needed him like never before. A life partner and her best friend, forever. Drawing hot water with a melancholy heart, Lauren stepped in front of the bathroom mirror and dropped the soft robe.

Had any of the neighbors been walking down the hallway at that precise moment, the shriek that came from apartment 23f would have surely brought the police.

“Those bastards! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

On her shoulders and breasts, several deep and dark bruises were forming with a most hideous green-yellow tinge. There was no doubt these were Hickeys from Cuba, with love.

+++++

The tired executive walked into Rekrap’s headquarters early Monday morning with purpose. Stopping by the CEO's office, she poked her head through the door.

“Sir, sorry to bother you. Can we talk?”

The old man looked up from his desk and waved her in.

“Good morning, Lauren. What’s on your mind?”

“The party this coming Saturday. I was wondering if someone could take my place. My husband is coming in town, and I’d really like to spend the weekend with him.”

Jones set down his pen and asked her to close the door.

“Sorry, I'm afraid that's impossible. I need our best people on this. To ensure the clients have a good time.”

“I appreciate the confidence that I can host a good party, but I’m sure someone else is just as qualified. There's a lot of people in this firm that know how to schmooze.”

Stephan Jones stared at her from above the frames of his readers.

“Lauren, I think we both know why you were selected.”

“What? Why? I'm a pencil pusher.”

“Really? You have no idea?”

At first she didn't have a clue. Then her mind raced back to the chance meeting with him outside a restaurant where she'd just had dinner with a man that was not her husband. He’d notice the anklet Corey had given her and recognized it’s significance.

“I don’t see how my personal life is relevant here.”

Jones fixed her with a coy smile.

“Oh, but it certainly is. Let me be blunt. Detrevrep’s and Polymer Thermoset’s owners Stretch Madison and Angel Tagliatelle are single guys enjoying the finer things in life. I’m sure they would reward our company handsomely with contracts should any of our staff be able to persuade them to do so. That being said, not many of my female staff are willing to use their charms of persuasion with men they hardly know. That narrows the pool down a bit, doesn’t it?”

Lauren’s jaw dropped. His expectations regarding her attendance were clear now.

“Uh huh...so there it is. What makes you think my next stop won’t be HR?” she asked defiantly.

Her boss tapped his fingertips together.

“Will it be?”

Lauren looked at the floor and shifted in her seat.

“Before you answer that, let me just say that you have great business acumen. That will take you far. Whether it’s here or somewhere else. We've all had to make sacrifices to get ahead. Sadly, mine was missing my son's childhood while I was busy climbing the ladder. You have to ask yourself what you are willingly to do to make the grade.”

The office manager glared at the old man as he scribbled on a piece of paper and pushed it across the desk to her.

“As you know, Jose Rodriquez is planning on retiring next year. Which means that Operations will need a VP. That’s the salary for the position.”

Lauren picked up the stationary and her chest pounded. The number was almost triple what she was currently earning.

“That would significantly help a middle-aged couple from Iowa planning on retiring to the Sunshine State, would it not?”

Lauren just gawked at the figure. It was hard to argue the benefits.

“If I was to agree to...use my charms,” she finally asked, slipping the note into a skirt pocket, "what of my husband? After flying halfway across the country I can’t very well ask him to go watch the paint dry while I’m entertaining your bottom-line.”

“Hell, I don’t care. Take him along. Tell everyone he’s the bartender or your new assistant. They'll buy that. And if you do happen to hit it off with one of our clients, let him watch. The bastard just might get his rocks off!”

Without speaking a word, Lauren rose and spread her hands out on the walnut desk, leaning over it just enough for gravity to do its thing. The old man found himself staring into what little cleavage his subordinate had, the white linen blouse falling away from her chest enough to see a frilly opaque bra rising and falling with every sexy breath she took.

“Okay,” she whispered, warm breath caressing his cheeks. “You want me to be your whore? I’ll be your whore. But there damn sure better be an announcement at Jose’s retirement party, or this little birdie’s going to sing.”

He nodded, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Lauren looked back with a grim face as she reached his office door. “Don’t ever mock my husband again. He’s a good man, unlike pricks like you.”

“Really, my dear?” Jones retorted. “Is what I’m asking you to do really that much different than what you're doing to satisfy his abhorrent desires? Only difference I see is that you stand to become financially independent with me.”

Lauren stepped into the hallway a bit shaken. He was right, and that candid and insightful observation would haunt her the rest of the day.

+++++

Corey was beside himself as he packed for his flight the next morning. Four days of frolicking in the sun, drinking by the pool, and enjoying Christmas Eve in the arms of his loving wife. Maybe even get a little naughty. Either way, it would be a welcome break from Iowa’s freezing temperatures.

It was while he was deciding between blue or green swim trunks that his phone started blowing up. Shit. It was Zane Picardo. More precisely, it was the best friend who’d introduced his Lauren to the pleasures of rough sex. That Zane Picardo. Corey let it go to voice mail as he’d done a dozen times since the “Ashley Date.” Thirty seconds later, the messaging app blew up.

Zane: Are you ever going to answer? We need to talk about this.

Zane: I still consider you guys friends. Never would have taken Lauren to the awards ceremony if I knew it was going to cost us our friendship. I only did what you hoped I’d do.

Zane: So that’s it, man? We’re done?

The 61-year-old picked up the phone and quickly read the texts. He damn near called the biker back but decided against it. Corey wasn’t ready to face him, knowing that he knew. It was just too soon.

+++++

Lauren wiped down the stair-master while cooling off from a long session. It was nice to have a gym right there in the lobby of the luxury apartment building. Membership was exclusive to residents, so there was always plenty of room and she recognized most of the regulars. Some were part-timers, only working out after eating chocolate cake. Others were gym rats like her, pushing themselves to the limit at least five days a week.

Four of them were there as she stepped off the machine and caught her breath. Two younger women, who could have been glamour magazine models, a 30-something who looked like he was born with free-weights in his hand, and a new resident who couldn’t have weighed more than 100 pounds wet. Lauren chuckled. She could definitely picture her husband working out with this one. Skinny and softy hitting the mats.

Approaching the towel hamper, tall and lanky politely held the top open, allowing her to toss hers in first.

“Thanks,” she acknowledged his chivalry. “I’m Lauren. You new to these parts?” Her midwestern colloquially was on full display. As was her small chest and abs, held tightly by a thin sports bra.

“I…yes, moved in last week,” he managed, trying hard not to look at her firm figure. “Luke. 15b.”

Although clearly an adult, the guy appeared to have the social skills of a nervous 16-year-old.

“Well, nice to meet you, 15b,” Lauren replied, smiling and turning towards the elevators. She could feel his eyes on her.

There was no longer any doubt.

All men ARE perverts. Even the ones you wouldn't expect.

A girl just had to find the right way to exploit that trait.

+++++

The phone vibrated incessantly as the sweaty brunette opened her apartment door. Multiple calls, all from the same number. How curious. They were from Zane Picardo.

Fearing something had happened to Corey, she immediately returned the call.

“Hi there,” the biker picked up right away. “How’s Miami treating you?”

That was an oddly casual greeting, especially since he’d not said boo to her since she slept with him over Thanksgiving.

“Fine. Is Corey okay?”

“How would I know? That’s what I’m calling about. And yeah, don’t worry, I doing okay too.”

Lauren sighed. “I’m sorry. It's just that…well, you don’t call me much. At all, actually.”

“Should I start?”

A heavy silence fell hard.

“What’s going on, Zane?”

“Your husband. Hasn’t talked to me since you and I hooked up. I text, I call. Nothing. You know how tight we were. Now, I think that’s all fucked up. I should've never agreed to that date.”

“Calm down. Look, it was Corey’s stupid idea. I went along with it. It wasn't your doing. Period. I threw myself at you and he got what he wanted. You and I had our fun too. But I don’t think that’s what’s keeping him from calling you.”

“Then what the hell is he trippin’ on?”

“Himself.”

“What?"

“I think it’s pretty clear. Your buddy’s been a regular guy for a long time. A guy’s guy. Sports, drinking whiskey, girlie mags. Then he develops that…interest...I told you about. Now some would say a real man wouldn’t never allow another man to touch their wife. But plenty do. And when they do, they don't broadcast it. Especially to biker friends. He knows I let it slip about his kink. So, I'm guessing he’s worried what you’re going to think of him.”

The mechanic said nothing.

Lauren listened patiently to the dead air. “Zane?”

“Damn. And I thought he was just pissed at me.”

“Hardly. Remember, he engineered that night.”

“Yeah.”

Another long silence.

“So, all good with you?” Zane asked, his voice gentler now.

“Yeah, its good,” Lauren replied walking into the bedroom, her tone softening too. She draped a strand of straight black hair behind one ear. “Working hard. I wish Corey was here.”

The one-time lovers talked about Miami, how her job was going, and the latest from Des Moines. He confessed he was getting tired of being a motorcycle mechanic and wanted to do something different.

"But then you'd never get another award," she giggled.

"Ha. Worthless trophies. Speaking of that, I guess you still have the last one? My boss has been asking about it."

Lauren felt the heat rise in her cheeks, thinking of the things she'd done with that glass wrench while Corey watched.

"Uh, yeah. It's at the house."

“Good. I guess it’ll give me an excuse to go see the old fucker.”

More silence.

"You were great that night, Lauren. I mean that."

"Zane..."

“Yeah, I know, it was a moment in time. I gotta say though, you were definitely not the prim and proper girl we’ve all come love. That was some surprise."

Lauren closed her eyes. “You're right. I’m not the same girl,” she whispered, biting her lip. “I don't think we’ll ever see her again.”

“Well, for what its worth, that’d be alright by me.”

There was a long pause as they listened to each other breathe.

"What I meant," Zane explained with an exhale, "is if you guys are still playing, I'd be up for an Ashley reprisal."

He could feel Lauren smile through the phone.

"I'll keep that in mine," she assured him.

“Well, I hope you enjoy your new life, Laur. I miss having your guys around.”

Tears welled up in the transplanted Iowan’s eyes. “I miss you too. Tell everyone hi for me. I hope your job gets better. You’re a great mechanic, Zane, stick with it. And please go see Corey, okay?”

"I will, even if I have to drag his sorry ass to the bar."

The screen went dark leaving Lauren in deep thought. How many times had she masturbated to the biker roughing her up in Bakersfield? Nailing her to that mattress for hours. It was truly some of the best sex she’d ever had.

Her eyes shifted to the bottom dresser drawer where the Chairman lay at the ready. Bending down, she picked up the large ten-inch vibrator and checked its batteries. It whirred to life, it’s little head rolling about the end of the shaft. Plenty fresh. Good.

+++++

December 22nd. Nine weeks to go.

Harvey watched from the concierge’s desk as a grayed haired gentlemen entered the lobby of the luxury high-rise dragging a suitcase and attached camera bag behind him. It wasn’t until the man took off his sunglasses did he recognize him as Mr. Miller, the absent husband of one of the hottest residents in the building. He wondered with amusement if Mrs. Miller was aware her hubby was in town. If not, and the rumors about her were true, they both might be in for a big surprise.

Entering the apartment with his own fob, Corey breathed in deeply. Although it was half-past eleven in the morning and she’d been gone to work for hours, he could still smell his wife’s perfume and almost sensed her presence. Even though his name was on the lease, the place didn't feel like he belonged. No telling what kind of debauchery had taken place in this building...in this apartment...while he'd been gone.

The kind I jerk off to every night, thinking of what she's doing without me, that's what.

And the damn décor was way to female too. That would have to change. Sighing, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and stood in the kitchen. Lauren promised to leave work early so they could go to the beach, but that was still at least two hours away. What to do until then? It would be utter boredom. He walked into the eerily quiet bedroom and set his luggage on the bed. Everything was the way he remembered it, right down to the large mirror above the dresser where they had enjoyed watching their reflection as they made love.

I can’t believe I’m actually here.

Having not been to visit since early November, he was curious to see how Lauren had settled in. One could tell a lot about how someone lived just by observing them “in the wild.” Especially a beautiful wife in a long-distance marriage. It was the little things that told the story; how she went about daily life, how she interacted with new friends, coworkers, and neighbors. And more importantly, her attitude towards him being there. Would she welcome him back with open arms, or be contentious about his visit?

Selecting a drawer to stow his things, he unpacked and neatly folded his underwear, socks, and a few pairs of shorts. Standing at the dresser, Corey opened the bottom right-hand drawer. Sure enough, there sat the Chairman of the Board, right on top of some linens, almost like it had been recently used. Next to it was an empty tube of lube. Strange, he could have sworn that was nearly full his last visit. Naughty, naughty. Probably been through quite a few batteries too from the looks of it. In the other drawers were his wife’s bras and panties. He was surprised to find that most of the latter were thongs, something she never used to wear at home. Pulling them out one by one, Corey caressed each and sniffed the crotches before gently putting them back. He stuffed a particularly thin and sexy red one into a trouser pocket and moved to the next drawer. More treasures. Swimsuits and racy lingerie, some he recognized, others he didn’t. Here was the black bodysuit she’d fucked her coworker Steve in. There was the teddy Corey had given her years ago which she hadn’t worn since. At least for him. Who knows what lucky guy had seen her in it? And what was this? A see-through mesh bra and panties? Hold on, that wasn’t fucking underwear, it was a nearly transparent two-piece bikini! Christ! There was only one reason to wear that and it wasn't to attract the clergy. Other unmentionables were in there too, some with the tags still attached.

Across the room, one side of her closet had been left open. Corey slithered across the floor and took inventory. He finger-walked through a variety of clothing, all neatly pressed and organized. On one side was her work clothes, all far sexier than what she used to wear at the paper distributing company in Des Moines. On the other were colorful fun skirts and tops, as well as more provocative outfits. There was the mesh crop top and leather pants which she’d worn to tease men at the pub crawl. And what the fuck were these? Actual latex leggings? Really? Jesus. He’d only seen those in porn clips. Who had she worn those for? Certainly not him. Let's face it, dude, she doesn't wear anything sexy for you. Just THEM. A familiar tingle of jealousy began to tantalize his crotch in a way that made him groan. Why did that please him so much? It's not right, you sick fuck.

Looking around, he spied a framed cherished photograph of their wedding day on the nightstand. Corey ran his hand fondly over the glass. Besides the birth of Caroline and Amelia, it was the best day of his life. Next, he opened the table’s small drawer and peeked in. Nothing but an old phone charger, hair clips, and aspirin. He was about to close it when a rectangular box beneath some blank post-it notes caught his eye. It bore the logo of a popular brand of condoms. Lifting it, Corey examined the carton. Only 4 left out of a pack of 12, all size XL. Corey's hand trembled, his dick twitching with bittersweet turmoil, the implication unmistakable. Even back in the day, he was at best a size medium.

Taking one out, the realization at just how small he was unleashed a host of raw emotions. The theme was clear. The sexy clothes in her closet that he'd never seen were not for him. The lingerie and swimsuits clearly were not for him. And the size XL rubbers were certainly not for him.

What, then, WAS for him? Just memories like the one captured in the wedding photo?

A moan escaped from the undersexed husband’s throat as he settled back on the bed, nestled between two fluffy pillows. What was she really up to down here? How many men had taken her to bed? This bed.

Why I am getting so hard?

Did the idea of Lauren running around behind his back actually turn him on?

Fuck, my dick is on fire!

Corey held the condom between his lips and unbuckled his trousers. Tighty-whities around his knees, he was amazed at how much it dwarfed his pink pencil by at least a quarter inch on each side. As he rolled it over his aging six-inches, he noticed it fit more like an ill-fitting shower-cap than an effective prophylactic.

So this is the size of my wife’s lovers.

Gripping his dick through the loose sheath, Corey began to masturbate, thinking of the girth that Lauren’s pussy must have endured while being impaled by a cock that could fill this out. How she must enjoy being filled to the fullest in a way he couldn't even in his prime. He pulled the red thong from his now unzipped pants and held them above his waist. Easing the small satin triangle to his crotch, he slid it up and down the quivering shaft. It angled itself toward the sexy panties as if yearning to learn what gaping hole might be behind it.

With one hand teasing his lonely penis, raw from weeks of knowing nothing but a rough palm and gym socks, he began fingering hypersensitive nipples through a pulled up knit polo shirt. The soft and wrinkled nubs soon became hard beneath the material, contributing intense pleasure to his private afternoon gratification.

So much for being bored.

+++++

Lauren was just leaving her office when her best friend and coworker Amy Rosinner appeared in the doorway.

“Last day of the year and you’re not coming to the office party this afternoon?” the 26-year exuberant blonde asked with a tinge of disappointment.

The junior executive shook her head. “I had planned on it, but Corey's coming in today.”

The legal secretary twirled her hair absentmindedly. It was no secret she had the hots for the executive, especially since the orgy at Sir Jack's place. Still, she was happy for her friend.

“That’s right! You must be so excited.”

“Yeah, it’s going to be great. But he’s only here through Christmas. Back to Iowa first thing Tuesday, so I want to make the most of the time. Plus, I’ve got that stupid party to chaperone tomorrow.”

“Don't get me started. Thank God I didn’t get roped into that. Watch yourself, I hear those guys are all hands."

Lauren slung her purse over her shoulder. "Thanks for the warning."

"We should do something New Year’s Eve, huh?"

“You bet. Call me, okay?”

The women hugged and wished each other a Merry Christmas, promising to get in touch after the holiday.

+++++

Lauren was heavy in thought as she began the three-block walk home. She wanted to do something special for Corey but didn’t have a clue as to what. From their long talks at night, it was evident he was barely hanging on. She knew he was living vicariously through her, soaking up every detail when she went out. Where and with who. What he was fishing for was clear, but it wasn’t like she was hooking up with every guy she met. In fact, it was just the opposite. Hell, she’d only worn the dumb anklet he'd given her a couple times and it didn’t really produce the desired results. It wasn't that guys didn't try - jewelry or not - but with working 12 hours a day, most nights her and Amy would just drink and dance. Sure, there was some flirting, but in the end, she wound up going home alone. But since it seemed his kink was the one thing that was helping him cope, she’d go ahead and make up stuff, telling him about imaginary lovers while he beat off on the other end of the line 1,500 miles away. Corey knew it was all bullshit but got off on it anyway. So what better way to spend their time together now than to really, REALLY crank up the dials on his fetish?

After yesterday’s call with Zane – and a round of fun with the Chairman - Lauren had settled in her bed, tablet in hand. She didn’t just want to push her perverted husband’s buttons, she wanted to punch them hard. But he was difficult to read, so she had to have the presence of mind to let him set the pace and guide her as to how for to take it.

Starting with some porn sites on the subject of “wife sharing”, she checked off the stuff she already knew. Some guys with Corey’s penchant just dug watching, some wanted to participate, and yet others, like Chloe had mentioned, were into more extreme flavors of the kink. Yet after reading through some very bizarre comments in some very diversified forums, she was surprised to learn that for many of these men, what preceded the actual act of sex was just as exciting. Whatever the “label”, the common denominator seemed to be the thrill of the chase. Simply put, for these guys, the ogling, the flirting, the foreplay, the teasing, was almost as enjoyable as watching the sex itself. Each of those things fed their Frankenstein, arousal, and yes, their angst. The sum of those parts could drive a husband or boyfriend over the proverbial cliff, an emotional combustion rivaling the most explosive of conventional orgasms.

As Lauren entered the lobby of her apartment building, she barely noticed Harvey sneaking peeks at her from his desk. As she waited for the elevator, a million ideas on how to make this weekend enjoyable for Corey raced through her head. By the time she got to the 23rd floor, her smile grew into a wide, devilish grin.

She knew exactly what to do.

+++++

Corey’s body was quaking, nearly to a breaking point, as he continued to rub the thong’s small triangle against the underside of his skinny penis. Fully erect at thoughts of his wife servicing hoards of men in that very bed, he wondered how many had had their asses in this spot and rubbed their cocks on this very patch of satin? How many had watched Lauren sink her bald pussy down onto their throbbing dicks? How many guys had she graced with frilly and sexy lingerie, while all but abandoning her “mom” panties that lay gathering dust back home?

His mind was tormented with both pleasure and despair as he saw his wrinkled smallness adrift in the vast expanse of the extra-large sheath, serving only to emphasize the inadequacy of his manhood. At least eight times now his wife had witnessed one of these parachutes being unfurled onto a much more deserving cock, confirming to her what she had been missing for so long.

With the thin straps of the thong wrapped tightly around its circumference, Corey slid the makeshift noose up and down that inadequacy, over and over, until he could feel the semen bubbling up in his very blue balls. With the other hand working his soft pecs feverishly, he knew it wouldn’t be long.

Fap, fap, fap.

Oh god, oh yes, oh Lauren…

He saw the lithe body of his bride next to him, bouncing up and down on the ripped body of a faceless man, crying out her lover's name, and looking down at the hapless husband as the lust for someone else built in her eyes.

Fap, fap, fap.

She was almost there, almost ready to release! He moaned, she moaned, her lover moaned.

Corey readied the thong to take the impending blast.

Fap, fap, fap.

He yelped. One, two, three more strokes and he’d be there. Yes, yes, yes!

Wait, what was that?

Shit, shit, shit.

What should have been a grand and monumental ejaculation was suddenly and rudely interrupted by four words he’d long to hear for months - just not right then.

“Hey, babe, I’m home!”

+++++

Lauren fully expected her husband to be sprawled out on the sofa, beer in hand, watching some afternoon sports program. Instead, the apartment was dark, save for the sunlight streaming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Corey?

Setting her purse on the kitchen island, she heard rustling noises from the bedroom and what appeared to be a quick moving shadow just beyond the doorway.

“Babe?”

“In here!” a seemingly out-of-breath Corey called from the bathroom.

Peeking around the corner, she could see the love of her life sitting on the toilet, pants around his ankles.

“Uh, hey, well, this isn’t the romantic reunion I was hoping for,” she joked. Was it her imagination or was he hard?

The vexed 61-year-old rose and kicked the tousled trousers aside, leaving a half-erect cock bobbing in the middle of the bathroom. The look in his eyes said it all.

“I need you now,” Corey pined, pulling her close with a deep kiss.

Lauren gasped when he pushed her against the doorjamb, his hands cupping both cheeks as their lips parted, tongues swirling. She raised a leg to his thigh and tossed her head back, exposing a tan neck to his advances. The couple's motions were halting and clumsy as they fumbled for each other's body. Twenty-eight years of marriage were fighting hard to overcome the awkwardness the retched long-distance relationship had imposed over the last six months.

Falling back on the bed, Corey’s hands explored the woman he’d not seen for weeks. The passion began to rise between Lauren’s legs as he unbuttoned her satin blouse. She needed him too. Not for the predictable two-pumps of carnal pleasure her husband might be good for, but for the life time of emotional happiness that was in his touch, his smell, his sweet words.

The sullied wife nearly succumbed and let him take her right then. And he would have, had she not managed to control her lust.

The plan. This simply wasn’t in the plan!

Corey damned near wept when she slithered out from underneath him and rolled off the mattress.

“Later, babe,” she panted, one arm out Heisman trophy-like, the other buttoning up her top.

“C’mon, Lauren, I need you!” Corey whined, quickly losing what rigidity he had mustered.

“We have all the time in the world, sweetie. Don’t you want to go do something fun this afternoon?”

“Well, I sort of thought we just were…”

Lauren laughed that off and pulled a pair of his swim trunks from the dresser drawer. “Here, put these on. Let's go to the beach!”

+++++

Despite being denied his wife’s delectable treasure, Corey was happy as a clam as they walked arm in arm, sandals in hand, feet in the sand. This particular beach was located a quick ride-share from downtown Miami. Halfway between Hollywood and Fort Lauderdale, it didn't seem to have as much traffic as others. Quite a find in such an urban setting, it was clearly a spot not advertised to the tourists.

Lauren was dressed in a loose off-shoulder tee and cotton shorts which allowed the sea breeze to hint as to what was beneath. Every now and again, Corey caught a glimpse of a bright blue swimsuit. Was this the skimpy two-piece he’d seen in the drawer?

For his part, the project manager had opted for a light polo shirt and knee length swim trunks. Although the water temperature was barely tolerable, at least to his pale, Midwestern winter skin, he hoped the unusually high air temp of 85 would entice Lauren into a lengthy tanning session so he could drink in the beauty he'd been missing.

Corey, of course, was unaware that his wife too was making some observations. There was something so subtle about her husband’s appearance that she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. His build seemed slimmer, his stride stronger. More like Corey in his prime. There was no question his aging physique could still be described as portly, brought on by too many donuts and lack of exercise over the years. But there were little things that were made more noticeable by time and distance. The sag below his chin was less perceptible, his man-boobs and gut less prominent as the wind pinned the knit shirt against his body. Had he firmed up and lost weight?

Starting from the south parking lot, the pair walked north, taking their time to enjoy each other’s company. Corey caught her up on the latest timelines for the hospital project that was in its last phase. By the end of February, he should be able to move down permanently, leaving the sale of the house in the hands of a competent realtor. He talked about getting a head start on packing photos and dishes. Lauren apologized for not being there to help, lamenting the long hours she was working to retain clients. With any luck, there might be a week in January where she could return home and provide some support.

Now would be a good segue into the customer appreciation event, the office manager told herself.

Corey listened with interest as she explained being picked to chaperone the party and just not being able to get out of it. Surprisingly, the revelation was met with a shrug.

“Okay, no biggie. You go do your job and I’ll hang at the apartment. How late can a work function go? Ten? Eleven?”

“Well, pretty late from what I understand. They’ll likely be an after-party.”

“Okay, whatever,” Corey looked down to examine a dead crab. “I’m sure there will be a game on.”

Lauren blinked. That wasn’t part of the plan either. She knew very well the after-party might get wild and wanted him to be part of anything that might go down. Quite frankly, he needed to be part of it. Stephan Jones was an asshole, but he was right on one account: if things got out of hand, it would be just the sort of thing Corey got off on. Didn’t he deserve that much?

“Look, you could go with me.”

“What? Doesn't one need to be a Rekrap employee to attend?”

“One does. But I could pass you off as my personal assistant, you know, someone who manages my calendar. You can even take pictures for the company newsletter.”

“Me? You’re assistant? Yeah, right.”

“No really, you’d be good at it. It’s only for a couple hours. Puh-leeeeeze?”

Corey stared at her like she was nuts. "I don’t know, it seems kind of…wrong.”

She was losing the battle. Okay, you want to go there?

“You mean like sending me into the lion’s den as Ashley the girlfriend, huh?”

He winced. Those enchanting eyes held so much disappointment. “Yeah, you got me there. Sure, boss. I’ll be your assistant. But I draw the line at sleeping with you.”

Lauren chuckled. “No worries, that's an extra five minutes I could use back in my day!”

Corey’s face fell at the insinuation but broke into a wide smile as they began chasing each other down the beach. They were having fun and cherishing every moment. So much that he nearly missed the white sign warning of nude bathers beyond that point.

“Whoa. I guess we turn back, huh?” He knew his wife was bolder these days, but a nude beach?

Lauren frowned. “Why? C’mon, it will be fun!”

“Really? I dunno. Do we have to take our clothes off?”

While a large part of him was secretly thrilled with the idea of seeing her topless – or more - he didn’t relish the prospect of putting his old junk out there for all to see. Twenty years ago, he might have been game, but now? These days his aging cock behaved more like a shy turtle. Having it on display would certainly NOT improve that reticence. In fact, compared to the young men who were surely just ahead, the embarrassment might be too much. Still, the irony of the situation did not escape him. For years he’d been trying to get Lauren to wear less. And here she was encouraging him to do the same. Quite fucking amusing.

“No silly, it’s clothing optional, you dope. There are plenty of people fully clothed.”

Corey’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been here before?”

Lauren grinned. And so it begins.

“Maybe,” she winked, though she’d never set foot in the area.

“Whaaaattt?” Corey bleated as the playful 48-year-old skipped ahead, her jet-black mane whipped by the ocean breeze. The idea that his wife had been here before, frolicking naked with the natives, gave him reason to pause.

Lauren in the wild.

The turtle began climbing out of its shell.

+++++

The couple ventured past the warning sign, Lauren several paces in front of her husband. Being the holidays, the small number of tourists that knew of the place had, for the time being, left the surf to the locals. Dozens were now enjoying the respite from crowds and lay scattered about on blankets, some with nothing on but what God had given them.

Twenty yards ahead, a group of college kids had set up a makeshift volleyball net and were taking advantage of the space they wouldn't have had otherwise. Comprised of maybe a half-dozen girls and as many guys, they seemed to be enjoying Christmas break with glee. Four of the coeds were topless, with most of the boys al natural, save for one chubby fellow who was content to play referee.

Stopping a respectable distance from the game, Lauren removed a blanket from her oversized beach bag and spread it across the sand. Thankful for a rest, Corey stretched out the length of the cloth and propped himself up on his arms. Lauren emptied the contents of her bag, lining up tanning lotion, some lip balm, and a small Bluetooth speaker. After a few minutes, she announced she had to pee and left for a nearby shed which doubled as a restroom and shower.

Well, Corey thought as he watched her shuffle past the players, this is certainly different.

His attention was drawn to the youthful exuberance of the game. Well, that and the bare breasts bouncing freely as the girls served and set. Never having been to a nude beach, he was amazed at how casually people carried themselves, as if they were in a grocery store or any other public place. Amazing too was the indifference shown by all, as more johnsons than Corey could count swung about in the open air. From his vantage point, the guys playing volleyball were of various sizes – a couple good enough to do porn – but all were rather flaccid. No erections, despite the wealth of nudity surrounding them. It was clear they were used to this; just another day at the beach.

Unlike those boys, however, naked 20-year-old females DID affect him, and in the most predictable ways. Adjusting tenting swim trunks, he hoped the novelty would soon wear off, and with it the stiffy that was surely to embarrass him if he had to stand or - Jesus - remove them. That hope was quickly dashed when he saw Lauren leisurely strolling back from the outhouse, rocking the blue mesh string bikini he’d seen in the lingerie drawer.

Holeeee Shit! he gasped as she neared, passing closer to the volleyball game than really necessary. The two-piece was far racier than any other he'd seen on her, even the gold one worn on Myles’ yacht. The mesh material of the top, and small patch of the bottoms, barely held enough netting to conceal what was beneath. As Lauren passed the coeds, one of the guys taking a water break spoke to her. He stood like a bronze Adonis, his cock hanging proudly like the nozzle of a gas pump; not erect, but not completely soft. He said something that made her laugh, causing those lovely taut abs to quiver as she shifted her feet in the hot sand. Corey closed his eyes, trying to overhear their conversation. The damn breeze and surf made that impossible.

Moments later, he felt a shadow blocking the sun. There was his hot wife, standing over him, hands on her hips.

"Are you falling asleep already?"

Up close, the swimsuit was even more translucent. Although Lauren was nearing 50, her tomato-sized breasts sat high on her chest, the sheer mesh rubbing against tender nipples, hardening them through the thin material. She was still bald below - the pasture had been kept well grazed in his absence - allowing the bottoms to fold into her slit, creating the most shameless cameltoe. Whatever anxiety she had about a few varicose veins was surely unfounded. No one was looking there.

“Friend of yours?” Corey asked, playing it cool while butterflies danced in his stomach.

“Never seen him before,” Lauren smiled, looking over at the game. “Believe me, I would’ve remembered.”

Dropping to her knees, she could see the tent forming beneath his trunks. “Wow, somebody’s excited. Does all this nudity get you worked up?”

Clearing his throat, Corey tried to look indifferent.

“Not really.”

“Uh huh, okay,” Lauren nodded, not believing a word. “Then you won’t mind if I do this.”

Still on her knees, with a most naughty look, the sexy executive reached behind her back and untied the top. With dramatic flair, she pulled it over her head and dropped it in her husband's twitching lap. In an instant, her tiny tits were bared to the world, laying firm against her chest.

Corey’s heart leapt to his throat. The woman who had refused to wear anything but a one-piece her entire life was now nearly naked on a public beach. He followed her hands as they lowered to the sides of her micro-bottoms, tied off on either side of her hips by a thin strap.

“Maybe I should lose this too,” Lauren giggled, pulling on the strings.

“Jesus, babe…” Corey moaned. But before she could go any further, Mr. Adonis appeared above them.

“Hey Lauren.”

“Hey, Barry,” Lauren replied pleasantly, as if she’d known him all her life. Already conveniently on her knees, she was at eye level with the boy’s groin, and got a good look at what was swinging between his legs.

“Soooo, Leo has to split and we’re one down. Feel up to it?”

The once demure Midwestern wife glanced at her husband. “Um, I’m not sure, I kind of just wanted to get some sun.”

“Go on," Corey nodded towards the net. "There’s plenty of sun out there too.” He knew he was tempting fate, but the thought of his bride’s tiny breasts jiggling unfettered in front of others was too strong to pass up.

“But…” Lauren protested, just not too much. This weekend the decisions needed to be his. The glint in Corey’s eyes told her everything she needed to know. Okay, perv, be careful what you wish for.

Taking Barry’s outstretched hand, she slowly rose, her face at first just inches from the college student’s naked package, then his chiseled stomach and hard pecs, and finally staring into his boyish grin.

“You can play too, man,” Barry told her graying friend. “We’ll work you in.”

Corey shook his head. “Thanks, but no." It had been a long day already and he wasn’t ready to be shown up by guys 40 years younger. Besides, if he had to wear the same uniform as they…no way.

“That’s cool,” Lauren purred, running a finger from the kid's chest to his waist. Her eyes travelled well past that though. “I don’t think he brought the right equipment anyway.”

The pair turned and walked away giggling. Corey knew a crude attempt at pulling his levers when he heard one. She was simply testing the waters. And it was working. If he hadn’t been excited before, his cock was now rock hard. Why? Why so aroused after clearly being dissed? Did he really enjoy that vagary? Did she even notice his reaction?

Just as she was going to serve, Corey saw Lauren peek over her naked shoulder and smile.

Yeah, God love her, she knows EXACTLY what she’s doing.

+++++

As with water polo, Corey learned quickly his wife wasn’t good at sand volleyball either. Paired with Barry and two other boys, the lack of skill apparently didn’t really matter since everyone was pretty buzzed and going through the motions. There she was, twirling the ball around in her hands, asking teammates if they were ready. Her silky jet-black hair was gently blowing in the sea breeze, cascading like a billowing cape over those bare shoulders and down her naked back. When she served – poorly by the way – her small, naked breasts were a sight to see. Not having much mass, they seemed to float as she rose and fell, with only the smallest jiggle when she landed. The whole scene was absolutely mind-numbing to a husband who for three decades had watched his wife chair the PTA, cheer on the sidelines, and volunteer in the church rectory. Couple that with much “incidental” contact between the team as they jockeyed for position, and Corey nearly lost his load...several times.

When the group had had enough, the whole lot of them flopped down on various blankets placed around their coolers. Corey watched from afar as Lauren accepted a beer from one of the men and took a seat next to Barry. The students were friendly enough and included her in their conversations. While talking, she drew her knees to her chin, which did little to hide her exposed tits, nipples stiff from hot sweat caressed by ocean breeze. Casual touching escalated as they all laughed at one thing or another. Although much younger, they seemed to accept Lauren's presence without exception. Occasionally, Lauren glanced over at Corey in that sexy way she had, as if to say, “I know you’re watching.” To illustrate, she picked up a random tube of tanning lotion and squirted a small amount on her hands. Barry nodded in appreciation and laid on his back, his proud cock bouncing like a diving board, a mast of masculinity. For several excruciating minutes, she worked in the lotion, paying special attention to the boy’s pecs, abdomen, and legs. At times she came dangerously close to his bobbing member but refrained from touching it. While nudity on the beach was allowed, outright sexual activity was not.

The pressure against the project manager’s inner lining was now blissfully uncomfortable. All sorts of thoughts raced through his head. This was it, then. This was his wife in “the wild”. Living the life she had forged in his absence. While he was away trudging through the snow, she was kicking it up with naked coeds in the sand. It was a conventional man’s nightmare and but a deviant husband’s dream. He had no way of knowing that his wife had never set foot on that beach, but it didn’t really matter. The die had been cast.

How the hell does this guy NOT have a raging boner? The curious husband was at least 15 yards away and didn't have the hands of a gorgeous girl all over him, yet his own erection was now downright painful. Worse yet, he could tell by the look in her eyes that she was thoroughly enjoying his agony.

Soon enough, the lotion was evenly applied. Lauren remained on her knees at Barry's midsection, trying to look at anything but the sizable cock that loomed in front of her. The boy tugged unsuccessfully at her bottoms, an act which she quickly rejected with a playful slap. He was clearly not concerned about her gray-haired companion just yards away. The touchy-feely continued, their flirting becoming quite obvious. Corey expected any moment for his wife to stand and return to him, and was a bit perplexed when she instead pulled the Adonis to his feet and led him by hand towards the outhouse. Her little ass cheeks rocked up and down beneath the skimpy bottoms as she sashayed away, sand caked on her calves. The student followed, their fingers interlocked. His cock was no longer curved downward like a gas pump; that schlong was thick, stark and at attention. Before disappearing around the corner, they looked back at the voyeur husband, each with a silly grin. The last thing Corey saw was her arm slip behind the wooden wall, a crook of a finger beckoning him to follow. The Iowan’s organ couldn’t have been any harder if Medusa herself had fixed him with a glare.

This presented a problem. Either stay, or risk walking past the pod of volleyball players with nothing but the netting in his trunks to suppress an insufferable hard-on. It would all but confirm to those who had been paying attention that the old guy was beyond aroused at seeing his wife step away with their well-endowed friend.

Wobbly, Corey stumbled through the deep sand and past the drunk coeds who snickered under their breath.

“You really want to go in there, Pops? Barry’s taking care of bizness.”

Another smattering of chortles.

Turning the corner behind which he'd seen the two disappear, Corey realized just how secluded the backside of the hut was. Divided into two halves with a common entrance facing the dunes and brush, it was far from the prying eyes of the beach and any lifeguards. Formal signs above each half indicating gender were long gone, replaced by makeshift ones of “Dames” and “Dongs".

Corey cocked his head and listened. There were hushed noises coming from inside, but he couldn’t be sure from where. There was no one in the Dames, so he crept stealthily to the men’s side, where the whispering was distinguishable.

“Like that, just like that. Oh please, keep doing that,” a male begged.

Someone spat, followed by wet, squishy, stroking sounds.

“Yesssss,” a female crooned, “give it to me. Give me your cum. I need it so fucking bad.”

There was no mistaking that voice. It was Lauren, apparently doing what Lauren did best these days.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Damn that’s good.”

Corey peeked in, his eyes settling on two stalls, one which was latched shut. The space between the bottom of the door and the concrete floor revealed four feet, all barefoot with sand between the toes. Two of them had painted nails, so it was not hard to determined which belonged to his wife.

The sloppy, wet sounds picked up. Through a crack at the frame, he could just make out a fleshy blurring motion which appeared to be a hand on a very erect dick, jacking fast and furious.

Daaaammmn, she’s giving him a handjob. Looking back to ensure no one else was around, Corey pushed the front of his trunks down, finally freeing his own unforgiving erection. The humid dank air in the stinky outhouse felt good on the liberated skin.

Barry groaned again, his breathing becoming more eratic. “Give me all those feels, doll. Jesus, you're good at that.”

“Cum for me!”

“What about your friend? He's gonna miss you."

“That’s my husband.”

“No shit? He'll be coming soon then.”

“Not before you," Lauren giggled. "Don't worry about him. You gonna blow or what?”

“Keep sucking me like that and I will.”

“Hmmmphhhhtttt.”

One did not need much of an imagination to know what she was doing then.

“Yeah, baby, deep throat that shit! Fucccckkkkkkin’ A.”

More spit, then louder gooey, slippery sounds. The stall was shaking as Barry moaned louder.

“Are you serious? Hell yes, that’s it…allllll the way, holy shit!”

Corey shivered as his hand molested his homesick dick. Her throat must be full right now.

It didn't take long until the buck naked volleyball player issued a frantic warning just seconds before unloading. “I’m right there, girl. RIGHT…FUCKING…THERE! Where do you want it?”

Through the crack, Corey could see his wife’s head tilt back, mouth open, and the young manhood quivering just above those rosy lips.

The ejaculating student had the presence of mind to curb his enthusiasm when he came. No reason to attract undue attention, especially if her ol' man was lurking about.

Barry squirmed as the brunette took his load. Corey could just see a couple ropes of cum strike her face where he missed the target, glazing her cheeks like rows of icing on a bear claw. The younger man had a better view though, gazing down at the pretty face who'd just given him one spectacular - albeit quick - blowjob. Coming down from the high of his release, he decided they'd been there too long. As much as he'd like to stay and fuck this beauty senseless, it would be prudent to abscond before the beach patrol, or worse yet, a jealous husband happened by.

The stall door was flung open way too fast and damn near came off its hinges, catching both men off guard. Barry with a strand of semen still dripping from his deflating cock, and Corey, with his pink whistle firmly planted in his hands. The latter stood like a deer in headlights, caught with his shorts down in a very compromising position.

“Fuck,” Barry exhaled in surprise, concerned the old guy might be packing. However, it didn't take long for him to realize he was in no danger, and why the woman hadn't been at all concerned about her hubby finding them.

“Hey bro. Wow, top shelf cocksucker you got there, definitely a keeper. Go get yourself some."

With that, Mr. Adonis quickly slipped out of the shed and onto the beach.

Envious of what he'd just witnessed, Corey peered into the stall. Lauren was still on her haunches, bottoms intact, a light trail of liquid oozing from a corner of her mouth. Turning, she spat the white contents into the toilet and pulled the shocked sexagenarian in. Without a word, she swallowed his beggared cock and serviced it like a pro. Mercilessly sucking, licking, and caressing his tool. He felt her hot breath on his wiry pubes as she exhaled through her nose.

“Goddamn Lauren!” Corey cried out in ecstasy.

“Shhhh,” Lauren hushed him, "this is still a public beach."

"I saw you. I saw you giving him head."

“I know you did, baby. It's what you dig best, isn't it? Watching? What part did you like? His ball sack in my mouth or when he tickled my tonsils with that lumber?"

A loud moan escaped Corey's dry mouth.

"Stay quiet now or I'll have to stop."

She turned to double fisting him, spitting on the pink worm while increasing the pace. They couldn't stay much longer.

“Shit, babe, that's incredible," he wailed. "When did you become such a slut?”

"The day we signed the lease."

"Ohhhhhhhhh noooooooo."

"Shhhhhh," Lauren scolded him, halting the hand job.

Both heard the noise at the same time. It was coming from somewhere outside the hut...and it was close.

“Lauren, stop!”

But Lauren did exactly the opposite, pumping his cock at a yeoman's pace, applying more spittle for increased viscosity.

“C'mon, Corey, paint my face! I’ve been waiting on your love for weeks.”

“Mmmmphhhhhh…”

The noise was closer now. Was that an engine?

“Pleeeese, babe, we have to hurry,” she pleaded, opening her mouth. The remnants of Barry's semen still coated her tongue. “Do it now, add your spunk to his. I need your love!”

The first spate of milky white jizz burst from the engorged head directly into the eager wife's mouth, the slimy nectar landing near the back of her tongue, inducing a fitful gag. The next few spurts weren’t nearly as accurate, landing on her cheeks and chest.

Whatever had been approaching was now just outside the shed. Corey shuddered and screamed into his elbow, trying to suppress as much of his overdue orgasm as possible.

Lauren acted quickly, wiping any telltale signs from her face onto Corey’s trunks, then pulling them up to his waist. She pushed him out of the stall, slammed the door shut, and sat down on the toilet...and waited.

Suddenly, a tall figure wearing a blue uniform and ball cap blocked the entranceway. Beach Patrol. He looked at the gray-haired gentlemen leaning against the sink and heard sounds of heavy urination coming from within one of the locked stalls.

“Almost done, babe,” Lauren called out sweetly.

“Take your time, honey” Corey replied just as innocently, smiling at the officer.

“Women should be on the other side,” the cop pointed with his thumb.

“Sorry officer, you know how wives can be. Apparently its pretty disgusting over there, so she asked me to stand guard.”

As if on cue, Lauren flushed and unlocked the door, tying her bottoms, bare breasts jiggling with each step.

“All done. Oh, hi there,” she said to the sand constable, acting surprised. "You really should report the condition of these bathrooms...ick."

The cop watched her naked body breeze by him.

Corey followed, but not before seeing the patrolman enter the same stall to empty his bladder, the soles of his boots squashing the few ropes of cum that Lauren was unable to handle.

In the wild, indeed.

+++++

Back at the blanket, the odd couple said not a word, simply content to watch the shadows of the December afternoon become longer. By then, the coeds had drifted away and most locals had left. After a few minutes, husband and wife turned to each other, rather serious expressions on their faces, lips pursed. Faces reddened as the absurdity of the situation bubbled to the surface, until Corey could no longer maintain the façade.

His belly began shaking with amusement. "What the fuck" he snorted aloud, "what the fuck was that?"

The impish Lauren sniggered, playfully punching him on the arm as they burst into full blown laughter.

“That, Mr. Miller, was your welcome back to Miami. You may wish to fasten your seatbelt...bro.”

+++++

Banished from the bedroom, Corey lounged around the small apartment watching the second half of an English Premier league soccer game. He had been unceremoniously ushered out of the bathroom, the door locking behind him. He could live with that. The night held a lot of promise as it was. Reservations at eight to sample a new sushi bar, then dancing. While listening to a classic rock band in a bar was more his speed, he knew that the quickest way to his wife’s heart – and pussy – was twisting the night away. That, and copious amounts of alcohol.

A strike to the upper 90 put the home team ahead. “Goooooooaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllllll” the announcer squawked, making it seem much more dramatic that it actually was.

“That’s right, pal,” Corey cracked open a long neck and raised it to the TV. “You now, me tonight.”

+++++

Lauren sipped a glass of white wine as she walked from bathroom to bedroom with a puzzled look. She’d found a red thong stuffed in the sink’s cabinet and couldn’t for the life of her figure out how it got there. At first, she thought it might be Amy’s, perhaps a vestige from one of their late nights out. But it was clearly the junior executive’s. No telling how long it had been there. Now a bit crusty, into the hamper it went.

Peering into the mirror, Lauren examined her shoulders and breasts. The hickeys the Latino…what were they to her…tricks? The Latino tricks had left were lighter now, so much so that they were easy enough to hide with a little foundation and powder. Miraculously, Corey had missed them at the beach, probably blinded by her sheer nakedness. Tonight’s bawdy outfit wouldn't cover much more, but between the whiskey he was sure to consume and his eagerness to take her to bed, any concern they might be detected was surely unfounded.

Her tricks. It was hard to come to terms with the fact that she had done something so over-the-top, so wanton, so illegal. It was for these reasons she still had not confessed such a reckless act to Corey and Amy. Would she ever? They say every woman has her secrets. That just might be one of them.

Hooting and hollering from the other room brought her back to the present, smiling. Wow, how nice was it to have Corey around again? She wished he didn’t ever have to go back, but was somewhat comforted by the fact that she’d soon be doing laundry for two. Just a couple more loooong months. That’s why it was so important that this weekend was all about Corey. Lauren was determined to send him back to snowy Iowa with a lifetime of memories to beat off to.

Wanting to wear something really sexy for him, she stood at her closet, chin in hand. It dawned on her that beyond the occasional texts, he hadn't really seen her collection of "slutwear." Much of it Lauren hadn’t even worn yet, waiting for the right moment, the right...lover. For months now the poor guy had watched from afar as she sent him photo after photo of her out partying in some pretty hot numbers. Over the Thanksgiving holiday, the look in Corey’s eyes as she left for the “Ashley date” in tight leather pants and corset was almost too much to bear. Lauren had been dressing like a whore for everyone but her own husband.

Tonight, that was going to change.

+++++

Corey awoke from a light sleep to the sound of the bedroom door opening. An afternoon of “fun in the sun” had zapped a lot of energy from those old bones.

Shaking off the fog, he struggled to sit up, warm beer in hand. “About time, babe. I mean why do women take so fuckin..." The thin voice trailed off as he saw Lauren towering over him. "Jesus, Joseph, and Mary.”

Those religious icons certainly would not have approved of the impure vision standing in front of him. Eyes at crotch level, the first thing he saw was shiny latex leggings, the ones he'd seen earlier. Clinging tightly to every inch of her lovely calves and thighs, it fit so snugly one was hard pressed to guess how she even got into them. Above her waist, an undone dark blue cropped denim jacket provided a mouthwatering view of a cobalt blue bandeau bra, leaving her taut midsection enticingly bare. Heavy makeup – what he called her “strumpet” face - and indigo high heels confirmed in an instant his wife’s capability of going from topless beach bum to world class tramp in less than two hours.

Corey poked at the pants. “Those look uncomfortable.”

“They’re not shorts,” Lauren chuckled, “but not too bad. They feel like a warm hug,” Pulling him to his feet, she winked. “Besides, I don’t plan on wearing these long, if you get my drift.”

He beamed. With purple eyeshadow and dark red lipstick lushly outlined in black pencil, her face simply compelled a man to try and fuck it. It took a lot of strength to turn away and get himself dressed, a feat that was somewhat difficult to do with yet another growing erection.

Settle down, he told himself with a titter. Sushi…then pussy.

A short time later the couple eased into the back seat of a taxi, both looking regal, as if they owned the Magic City. Lauren nestled against her dapper husband and held his arm tightly.

“There have been days,” she whispered low so the driver could not hear, “when fate determined my naughtiness. But tonight, you decide just how nasty I get.”

The beguiled project manager could only gulp as she buried his trembling hand between her latex-clad legs.

God, I love my wife.

+++++

The sushi bar was exceptional, having some of the best tuna rolls they’d ever tasted. Lauren was pleased that her husky husband skipped the Mochi desert, something he typically would scarfed down two of. After finishing their vodka tonics, they stepped onto the sidewalk and noted the time. Half-past eight, way too early to hit the dance clubs. Being only a stone’s throw from the Taffy Snapper, the couple decided to walk to the neighborhood bar and have another drink.

Sally was just beginning her shift and welcomed her regular with a hug, then whistled at the immodest outfit.

“You best not let the boys see you dressed like this, or you’ll never have any peace and quiet in here.”

Turning to the older man, she stuck out her hand with a friendly smile. “Hi there. Glad to see she’s finally bringing her dates here.”

Corey raised an eyebrow. Underneath all that makeup, Lauren began to blush. “Uh, Sally, this is my husband, Corey.”

The waitress went pale and her grin faded. “Oh, I…uh…shit.”

“Darn the luck,” Corey made light of the greeting. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll bring her dates around just as soon as I leave. I hear the watch parties are legendary.”

Sally wasn’t quite sure how to take the sarcasm, whether to smile or frown, so she just scurried away to get their drinks, admonishing herself under her breath for being so cheeky.

The pair slid into a booth and Lauren reached for his alabaster hand.

“Dates?” Corey chuckled.

“Just a figure of speech.”

“Uh huh,” Corey’s smile broadened, “whatever you say.”

Sally returned with two Long Island teas and quickly left, avoiding eye contact.

“You could though.”

Lauren took a sip. “Could what?”

“Date.”

“What?”

“You know, go out with guys. Not just to have sex, but you know…date.”

“That’s silly, I don’t even know that many guys and I sure don't want to…”

A large shadow fell over the table and was soon joined by another. Corey looked behind him and saw a dark-haired guy with a grin on his face and one of the biggest cowboys he’d ever seen.

“Well, if it isn’t Ames, back rub it in,” Steroids gushed, looking down on them. “Still gloating are ya?”

Lauren rolled her eyes. The irony of stating she didn't know that many guys and their sudden appearance was simply astounding.

Shaking black bangs away from tempestuous eyes, she smiled at the men politely. “Hi there, you remember Corey from the game last week, right? Corey, this is Alex, mmm, Cartwright? And Vinneeee…Amato?”

The Italian beamed. “That’s right! Very good. Hey man,” he looked at the older man, “those Cyclones of yours looked really good last week. Playoff material.”

Corey perked up at the mention of his team. He had an instant liking for this guy. “You think they’re contenders?”

As the Italian Stallion and the Iowa State fanboy chatted about the game, the big Texan stood off to the side, less enthusiastic about engaging the couple than his friend. He just stood there in his white cowboy hat, large hands stuffed into the pockets of an equally large pair of jeans. He seemed content to let Vinnie do the talking.

Corey sat back with folded arms, both curious and amused at the same time. Lauren in the wild, part two.

“Hell yes,” Vinnie agreed. “Although Tex here would differ. That win ruined his entire evening.”

Lauren glanced at the big man who was desperately trying to avoid eye contact. “Is that why you left, Alex? You were upset about the loss?” She knew full well it wasn’t why he left the bar that night.

The two held each other’s gaze longer than casual acquaintances might, both clearly remembering his reaction to her friendly wager during the game. A bet that Corey and Vinnie were completely unaware of.

“Yeah, sure,” the El Paso native replied, trying to sound indifferent but failing miserably. His attraction to the distinguished beauty was undeniable. He had felt it during the game and could even recall the perfume she was wearing. The way she was dressed tonight, in those shiny black pants with barely anything on under that denim jacket, well, that was what dreams were made of. But he was no homewrecker. His parents had taught him the sanctity of marriage. That meant this one was to remain just a dream.

“Uh, yeah, well,” Vinnie furrowed his brow, nonplussed by the air of awkwardness that had descended over the conversation. “Me and Alex were just heading out to the bowling alley. You guys want to come?”

Lauren shot a quick look of disapproval at Corey. He and Vinnie had hit it off and for a moment she thought he was going to accept.

“Nah, guys, we’ll take a rain check,” the older man begged off. “Maybe next time.”

Lauren sighed with relief as she watched the men leave, both waving to Sally as they went.

Corey finally set his drink down and looked into Lauren’s eyes. “Now where were we? Ah yes. I wouldn’t mind, you know.”

“Wouldn’t mind what?” she answered back, her gaze still lingering on the front door as it shut behind Alex.

“Dating.”

“I told you I don’t know any guys.”

Corey followed her eyes to the door. “Oh really?”

“C'mon, they’re just some fans I met at a watch party. Longhorn fans at that. Don’t let your imagination run wild.”

“Sure, okay. But don’t tell me you've not been asked out. I don’t mean hit on by some drunk guy looking for a quick hook up. I mean for a genuine date.”

“Tommy made me soup.”

“That was dinner and a fuck.”

“Zane…”

“Doesn’t count. Manufactured.”

“I went to a movie with Steve.”

“We're getting closer.”

Lauren studied his face. Yup, there it was. The evolution of a hotwife. Plenty of real-life stories of hotwives and their boyfriends. Was that a natural progression of the lifestyle? The fact was, she did get asked out, all the time. And she turned down every single invitation because she knew dating involved more than just sex.

“What’s going on, Corey? Up until now, you’ve been satisfied for me to wear your anklet and practically seduce guys to fuck me. Which, by the way, doesn't work much. I'm still twenty-five years older than than most of the girls in bars these days. Now you want me to take off my wedding ring and be single again? Hit the dating circuit? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get rid of me.”

“I-I-I'm sorry. It's just that...it's not fair to you. I should be here."

“Fair to me? What’s that supposed to mean? You do know that a byproduct of you living out your little kink is that I’m getting laid too, right? And I love it. You showed me just how enjoyable being a slut can be. I love getting fucked. One guy, two guys, beautiful girls. That's right, Corey, and I cum when I'm with them. I cum so hard, babe. That’s not exactly penance.”

Corey exhaled slowly, picturing her writhing around on a bed with a bunch of naked friends. He raised his hands.

“Look, forget it. I just want to make sure you’re having fun while I’m away.”

Lauren crossed her arms, softening her tone. “I can have fun at museums and the theatre. You’re aware what you’re suggesting goes far beyond sex, right? Dating has at least some emotional connection. Boy meets girl, girl likes boy, they go out. Remember when we were dating?”

Yes, he did. For weeks he was allowed to only finger her, while her then boyfriend got all the bennies. Corey knew she was right. Hooking up for a bout of raunchy sex was one thing. Dating involved so much more. Activities outside the sack such as concerts, holding hands, walks at sunset...feelings.

Lauren closed her eyes, wondering how her husband got to be such a headcase. Then she remembered this weekend was all about him. She reached under the booth and placed a hand over his crotch. It jumped in response.

“I remember when we first met,” she whispered, “I kept you a secret from Pauly. That was technically cheating. Is that what you want me to do now? To you? For me to go behind your back, maybe I'll tell you, maybe I won't? Does that excite you?”

Corey couldn’t help it. His cock began to grow. “You wouldn’t have to cheat. I’d want to know…”

“Really?” Lauren gave his developing erection a squeeze. “So, you wouldn’t get all hot and bothered if I said you only know about a fraction of the men I’ve slept with since I came down here?”

“Wha…?”

She smiled and winked, feeling the growing tent. “A girl is entitled to some secrets, ain't that right?”

“Damn, are you serious?”

“Are you?” Another squeeze. “Damn, I think you are.”

“About what?” Corey hissed, eyes intently on hers. His kink was sizzling like a frying pan.

“Me dating. Having boyfriends.”

Corey thought he was going to blow right there at the table. “Would that…would that make you happy?”

Lauren’s eyes darted to the large, frosted window that ran the length of the bar. A white cowboy hat paced back and forth above the frost, waiting for a taxi. Looking back at her husband, she saw he was consumed by his own perverted thoughts.

“I think,” she licked her dark red lips, “that would be much more fun than a day at the museum.”

+++++

After finishing their drinks, the couple stood outside the Taffy Snapper, waiting on a ride-share Lauren had inconspicuously ordered while Corey had gone to the restroom. She was texting with someone, but he didn't notice, his thoughts occupied with the attention his wife was getting from myriad of men as they walked by her on the sidewalk. It was easy to understand why. Hot as a firecracker, half-naked in that cropped jacket, tube top and shiny latex leggings, appreciative eyes gaped lustfully, especially at her ass, the contours of which were gloriously enhanced by well selected three-inch purple stiletto heels. She was so alive, so sexy, so vibrant. For the first time in a long time, Corey felt that special glow men feel while being out with a woman that could make a dead man cum. Lauren’s manner of dress and her attitude had done a complete one-eighty. She had been in full mom mode since the birth of their daughters, trading in what risqué clothes she did have for sensible outfits, those that could be worn to school board meetings as well as church. In fact, the tightest pants he’d seen her in since then was her softball coach uniform. So, to see her standing there, elegant but bewitching, was an incredibly powerful aphrodisiac.

The car arrived and Corey held the rear door open. She ducked in, the black latex stretching taut across her bottom, offering a vantage point most men would pay to have. Lauren provided an address to the driver rather than a destination name, which prompted a somewhat surprised look from the Middle Eastern man. He glanced in the rear-view mirror to confirm that’s where she really wanted to go. A brief nod later, and the two fares were whisked down the boulevard in an older model minivan. They sat in the back, holding hands, occasionally commenting on this storefront or that. Corey noticed they were on the same street as Club X, and watched as the car slipped by the popular nightclub with its long lines of waiting hopefuls. Man, Bemer sure is making a fortune with that place.

Through the trees of Cityscape Park, the iconic pink neon feather of Randy Sandy’s lit up the other side of the street. Corey’s mouth went dry as the driver pulled into the parking lot and unlocked the doors.

Lauren read her husband's surprised face. “You look thirsty, sweetie. Care for a Sex on the Beach?” That was the drink recommendation which had first brought her here weeks ago.

“I thought we already did that earlier today.”

“Not from where I’m standing, Mister. Two for the boys, zip for the girl? Nuh uh. That wasn’t my cum on the floor.”

“Touché.”

The line to get in the storied gentleman’s club was smaller than X’s – it was early for that type of entertainment – but still rather substantial. For a second, Corey felt Lauren would bail because of the wait. That would be a shame. Since living in Miami, she’d been to two strip joints without him, and quite frankly it made him a little jealous. Back home, he'd tried several times to get her to go to one, but was always refused. Now was his chance to see her “in the wild” in a rather unorthodox setting and the excitement was palpable. Before Lauren could change her mind, Corey began walking to the back of the line to queue up.

“No,” she stopped him, checking her phone, “follow me.”

One can imagine the looks the regal, yet slutty mature received sauntering alongside the mostly male clientele on her way to the door, ass rocking up and down in those shiny leggings. Every few yards, a head would pop out from the line to enjoy her gait a little longer. Corey purposely trailed, thoroughly enjoying the attention his wanton wife was getting. Strutting her stuff in front of dozens of horny guys really stoked his fire. And she knew it.

As the couple approached, the doormen eyed them warily until Lauren leaned in and gave her name. One of the burly men checked a small tablet and nodded to the other, who promptly stamped their hands with blue ink that read “VIP”. The security guards’ eyes followed the woman and her gray-haired companion as they disappeared inside. The men smiled at each other. Prime pieces of ass were nothing new at Sandy's, but most of it was on the stage and way younger than this one. Some not even close to being as well put together.

Inside, Corey breathed deeply. They all had the same smell, didn't they? Booze, body odor, and sex. Lots of sex. A waitress wearing hot pants and halter showed them to a table abutting a long runway that led to the stage. Removing a yellow Reserved sign, the girl took their drink order and scampered away.

Impressive, Corey thought, glancing over at Lauren. VIP section. Just how often do you come here, my love?

On stage, a blonde with short hair was entertaining a smattering of mostly unimpressed men and a few women sitting on short stools along the railing. She seemed tired, and a bit ate up, a stripper who’d seen better days but could do nothing else with her life.

The next dancer was a younger black girl with way more energy. Lauren smiled quietly as Corey followed her every move. An expert in her field, the seasoned entertainer revealed her body slowly, teasing the crowd in an old-school cabaret costume. It was clear both the junior executive and her husband were drawn to the smooth ebony skin, and the wiry bush between the girl's legs. "Jasmine" winked at the couple as she strolled off stage.

Lauren perked up when the DJ announced the next performance. Autumn Breeze. “Chloe!” she exclaimed as the redhead strutted down the runway, blowing them a kiss as she passed their table. Corey was surprised that his wife had befriended such a young woman, and even more struck when he learned her age. At 20, the dancer was six years younger than their daughter, Caroline.

Dressed in a plaid mini skirt, black thong and red sequin bra, Autumn skillfully employed the pole at center stage to begin her act. Gone were any disinterested patrons. Every eye in the room was on the spritely redhead. After circling the brass several times, her hair flying behind her, she began to hump the spinner with earnest, thrusting a thinly covered snatch hard into the fixture as if it was going to sprout a dick and fuck her. Grabbing her ankles, she slid into a down-dog and rubbed her ass against the pole as if she was being taken from behind. This prompted lots of whistles and a shower of bills.

Simply put, Corey was fascinated by how professional the girl was, taking care to make eye contact with each and every patron before launching into new moves. No beginner, she seemed to thrive on the attention as much as the tips, collecting each cat call as enthusiastically as a twenty dollar bill.

Sashaying along the runway, Autumn stood above her older friend, feet planted firmly in an incredibly sexy pose. She was pleased to see the pretty brunette and her husband were there, both now staring up at her with lust in their eyes. Letting the sequined straps of her bra fall from both lily-white shoulders, the girl turned and pushed out her hips, allowing the couple a direct shot up the scanty miniskirt. What appeared to be a neatly coifed racing stripe peeked back at them. After several fervid moments, Autumn’s fingers made quick work of her bra's rear hooks and it dropped straightway to the floor, exposing her fleshy breasts. A round of approvals came from the crowd as more bills hit the stage. She glanced over her shoulder at Corey, who was fighting his own internal conflict. Seeing that this girl was younger than his own children, the thoughts he was having were, well...just not right. As if to add to his anguish, Autumn unleashed her best Harlem Shake, those full and meaty breasts bouncing in unison just above his head. Lauren pushed a fifty into her god smacked hubby’s hand and pushed him towards the edge of the catwalk. She laughed as he gingerly placed it in the stripper's waistband, a bead of sweat forming on a priceless face.

Autumn slowly pranced to the other side of the stage, kicking up her high heels and playing to the other patrons. There she sunk to her haunches and continued to shake those succulent tits, accepting generous tips from customers on the rail. As the second song began, the pretty stripper stood and hoisted the flaps of the oh-so-small miniskirt, allowing everyone a good look at what the couple had previewed moments earlier. The black thong – if you could call it that – was really only a series of braided cords, thicker between the legs to offer some mystery, but not much. With erotic flair, Autumn guided the braids between her outer labia with all the drama you’d expect from an exotic dancer. With one hand flossing her rose-hued slit, the other caressed her breasts as she feigned masturbation. She milked that for a few more bills, then gradually slid the so-called panties down her thighs and heels to the floor.

Returning to the pole, the humping resumed, this time bare pussy against brass plating. One could almost see the snail trails of juices that were left as Autumn fucked the fixture like it was her last. That got the room going. Amongst many hoots and hollers - and one a melodramatic faux climax – she gyrated back to where Corey and Lauren sat and shimmied off the skirt, kicking it onto their table. The gorgeous dancer then sank to her knees, spreading her legs and extending her arms to the couple, as if to say, “take me now”. With that, the song ended and the spotlight dimmed, leaving the youngster in the dark, entirely naked, and out of breath. While other patrons clapped, Lauren handed the skirt to her friend, who leaned over and whispered something that Corey couldn't hear. He sat speechless as the girls kissed and giggled.

Could this day get any better?

+++++

Thirty minutes later, Chloe, not Autumn, appeared at their table, all fresh and showered. Gone was the sequined costume in favor of a bright blue leather dress and fishnet stockings. At that point, Corey had difficulty seeing past the girl’s naked alter-ego which had such an impact on him earlier, and it would come as no surprise that his wife was feeling the same way.

The trio shared another round of drinks, then Lauren recommended they find someplace to dance. Corey pointed out they were already in such a place, and maybe the manager had an open slot. That got him a Bronx cheer, although Chloe did mention - and without kidding - that Tuesday's were amateur night, and his lovely wife was welcome to come back then to compete.

"Ahhh, perhaps I should extend my stay by a day," he replied, only half-joking.

"Not a chance. Move on, perv," Lauren chuckled. "Now let's get out of here."

With a silly grin on his face, she and Chloe ushered the overly stimulated project manager from Sandy’s to the sidewalk.

Outside, they walked arm in arm, making Corey the happiest man in Miami at the moment. The women already seemed to know the next stop, so he just allowed himself to be led like a lemming, caught up in the euphoria of being flanked by such beauties. Eventually the familiar lights of Club X cut through the darkness of a small park and he realized their destination.

Brilliant, he thought sarcastically, why go anywhere else?

Unlike the last time Corey visited the upscale nightclub, they were granted immediate access without accompaniment. Upon seeing them arrive, the doorman simply unhooked the stanchion rope and allowed the trio to waltz in.

Is this because she comes here often, or because she's fucked your boss? the inebriated Iowan felt like asking as the girls tugged him passed the guards.

Inside, the place was just ramping up for a Friday night. The dance floor was packed as lasers caressed the crowd and professional dancers did their thing on platforms throughout. It didn’t take long before Chloe and Lauren began swaying to loud and thumping EDM. They pulled a reluctant Corey to the floor and pivoted around him, making sure he was the center of their world. Encouraged by their undivided attention, he found himself actually enjoying the bumping and grinding, albeit his six-decade old body could not quite match their moves.

They danced nonstop for at least 45 minutes, the two friends making sure their focus was only on the graying husband with beads of sweat beginning to form on his brow. A few younger men tried to cut in, but the girls were having none of that, quickly rebuffing any attempts to carve them away from Corey.

What seemed like hours later, the parched threesome finally limped off the dance floor in search of liquid refreshment. Corey began heading towards the bar when Chloe grabbed his arm.

“I think your wife is taking care of that.”

Across the main room, he saw Lauren speaking with a pretty goth-looking waitress dressed in a purple bodysuit and choker emblazoned with a large “X”. After a quick credit card exchange, the pair were waved over.

“Nice,” Corey exclaimed, sliding onto a plush red velvet sofa tucked away in a VIP alcove. “You're outdoing yourself tonight, babe!“

Moments later several waitresses in colorful bodystockings burst through a service door, one holding a bottle of bourbon and high-end champagne on a silver platter high above her head. Sparklers were ablaze around the tray’s rim as the women pranced in a circle around the small cutout, clapping their hands and shouting Corey’s name. Eventually they stopped at a low-profile coffee table in front of the couch where they placed the fiery display.

“Awesome bottle service,” Chloe remarked.

Awesome indeed, for on the platter were $500 and $800 bottles of cognac and bourbon respectively.

Corey shook his head, astounded at how the evening was going. Two beautiful ladies and me. And then there were three. It doesn't get better than this. He poured them all a drink, whiskey for him, brandy for the girls.

Lauren started them off with a toast. “Welcome home, babe. May we be together forever soon.”

The oddball threesome drank to the toast and kept drinking. And drinking. And drinking. As the night wore on and bottle levels decreased, the trio alternated between their comfortable VIP pit and the dance floor. Through it all, Corey was the center of attention. He could have died right then and couldn’t have been happier. But he didn’t die…and was soon to find that the measure of happiness is a very subjective thing.

+++++

The club’s dance music was somewhat muffled in the men’s room, offering some respite from the constant “thump, thump, thump” of the never-ending beat. Corey smiled as he shook the last few drops of piss from his dick and tucked it away. He was three-quarters of the way through the expensive bourbon and the girls had just polished off the cognac. Seeing it was just after one o’clock in the morning, he figured he'd be balls deep in Lauren's pussy in about an hour.

Navigating a wobbly return to the VIP niche, his somewhat blurry vision noticed two things: a guy in a black silk shirt and pleated pants chatting Chloe up, and his wife...or more accurately, the lack of. The slim redhead was busy flirting with the young fellow, frequently playing with her hair and touching his hand or arm. What struck Corey most was just how much the guy reminded him of a 1970s gigolo. Maybe 25, with buttons undone exposing half his chest, and a heavy gold chain with a round medallion covering the rest. A regular Don Juan.

“Oh hey,” Chloe welcomed the older man back to the table. “Corey this is Jax, a friend of mine.”

The black-haired Don Juan nodded. Corey had to laugh. This guy’s right out of some bad 70s porn movie.

“Lauren go to the ladies’ room?” he asked, looking back towards the service area.

Chloe shook her head. “Not exactly.” Her eyes lifted to a row of suites on the second floor high above the dance floor. Following her gaze, Corey caught sight of his wife standing next to club owner Max Bemer. They were behind a row of floor-to-ceiling windows, shoulder to shoulder, talking and sipping what looked to be white wine. Lauren had one hand on his elbow as they laughed, sharing something that was obviously hilarious. A minute later, Lauren’s former lover – the one that started it all - drew her into his arms. She responded by burying her face in his chest, smiling from ear to ear. As Corey’s jaw dropped in disbelief, the windows suddenly darkened, and they disappeared behind heavily tinted glass.

Seeing his reaction, Chloe pulled the drunk and bewildered man onto the couch next to her. “Looks like your better half just scored some real VIP treatment. I’m sure she’ll be down soon.”

“Or going down,” the young lad snickered, almost cruelly indifferent to the presence of the woman’s significant other. “Do you know who that guy is? He’s laid pipe to half the broads in this city.”

The stripper conspicuously shushed her friend but smiled inwardly. This was all part of the plan. The visit to Sandy’s, the dancing, the over-the-top attention they’d given Corey the past few hours…these were only a few ways her friend planned to push kinky hubby buttons this weekend. Jax was part of the plan too, specially devised to provide a weekend of debauchery Corey would not soon forget. Whatever Lauren was doing on the second floor with Max was just one more lever being pulled. Good for her. Her friend was embracing the therapeutic merits of the game, and the dancer was damn proud of her. She really gets it.

With that in mind, Chloe tried repeatedly to draw Corey into a sustained conversation with her incredibly handsome friend. It would become important later for the two men to form at least some type of connection now. But he just kept looking towards the darkened windows and wouldn't engage. Okay, then. Time to poke the bear. It’s what Lauren would want.

“What do you think they’re doing up there?”

Corey shook his head slowly, not taking his eyes off the glass.

“Jax’s right, you know. Max is a pussy hound. And Lauren is pretty drunk.” Putting a hand on his thigh, she leaned over and whispered, “So…do ya think they’re fuckin’?”

Chloe felt a distinctive twitch from the project manager’s lap.

“I bet she’s got her pretty little face buried in his nutsack. Whatta you think?”

The tent below the twill slacks confirmed everything that Lauren had told the dancer. Oh, he’s got it bad!

“Big Max, that’s what I’ve heard. But you already know that, right? By now she’s probably riding that thang for all it’s worth.”

Corey grunted, remembering that day on the yacht when he and the bar owner had double teamed her. His cock was pretty impressive.

The redhead’s hand moved up the older man’s thigh until it covered his hardness. Corey froze. He hadn’t been touched there by another woman in thirty years.

Her grin grew wider as she glanced over at young Jax.

“You may be right about Max doing half this town, J. Looks like he's nailing her...again,” she giggled. “Just another slut wife.”

Jax deliberately stared down Corey. “Is that right? Your bride a cock whore? I like whores too, you know." The innuendo was anything but subtle.

Under other circumstances, these words and actions would have seemed most cruel to those outside “the lifestyle”. But Chloe understood the kink well, and knew this was simply manna from heaven for a man with Corey’s predilection.

The crotch under the girl’s hand responded just as expected. Having felt enough clothed packages in her short career, Chloe estimated dear Lauren had been getting about five, maybe six inches most of her life. No wonder she's doing Miami!

Corey tore his gaze away from the upper level windows long enough to look at the young couple. “So, exactly how do you two know each other?”

Jax and Chloe grinned. “Let’s just say we work together,” she answered vaguely.

Before he could press further, Corey felt a warm hand gently gripped his shoulder.

“What did I miss?” Lauren asked, bending down to kiss his cheek. Her breath had an odd musty smell, not unlike after the outhouse at the beach.

“Get lost?” Corey asked, not mentioning what he’d seen.

Lauren wiped the corners of her mouth with thumb and forefinger, taking care not to muss her lipstick. “Just saying hello to an old friend.”

Chloe jumped up, eager to move the night onward. “Let’s dance!” she suggested, pulling the pretty brunette and Jax to the dance floor. They say timing is everything in comedy. If this was a skit, the redhead would have nailed it perfectly.

“Coming?” Lauren asked, one hand outstretched to Corey while Chloe tugged on the other.

“Nah, go enjoy. I’ve still got a jigger of this fancy whiskey to finish.”

With that, he watched his wife disappear into a sea of fun, bouncy young bodies. For some reason the sight of her gyrating between the stripper and handsome Don Juan was at the same time disquieting and strangely erotic. His eyes shifted to the second floor where the windows were once again transparent. Max Bemer stood looking down on his lucrative enterprise, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a cocktail. The bar owner noticed Lauren's husband and raised his glass when the two men’s eyes met.

Corey sighed and raised his shooter, acknowledging the fact that he was no longer as relevant as he used to be. A mere footnote in his wife's new life. He had now seen her in the wild and it was official.

Lauren was firmly entrenched in the fast lane, and there didn’t seem to be any goddamn speed limit.

+++++

The nightshift concierge nodded at the two women hanging from the arms of a very dapper young man. She recognized the older lady as a resident, but couldn’t place the others, nor the gray-haired gentleman who trailed them through the lobby. All of them were having difficulty navigating, which was no surprise, given it was half-past two in the morning.

Corey followed Lauren and friends into the elevator and stood to one side, trying unsuccessfully not to wobble. The whiskey was hitting him hard, but he could not allow himself to pass out. Not yet. Not until he made love to his wife. It had been almost a month and he needed more than a handjob on the beach.

As the lift carried them upward, he got the idea that the young couple had no intentions on leaving any time soon. Giggling and cuddling against the other wall, Chloe, Jax and Lauren were all over each other, touching, caressing. Occasionally they glanced his way to acknowledge his presence, the boy even having the audacity to squeeze Lauren’s ass while looking right at him.

They spilled out onto the 23rd floor amid hearty, drunken laughter, and waited impatiently for Corey to find his fob. While lurking, Jax held the girls tight, nuzzling one neck, then the other. Once in the apartment, the older man handed out bottles of water and stumbled to the couch. He hadn't planned on being a host. Chloe whispered something to Lauren before leading Jax to the same sofa.

Streaming sultry jazz through the stereo, the girls began dancing with each other, much to the younger man’s delight. He elbowed Corey several times, just to make sure he was watching. He was.

Chloe helped guide Lauren’s moves as they swiveled their hips in unison. She ran her hands up and down the raven-haired beauty’s body and eventually into her hair, fluffing out the black locks. Lauren reciprocated, fingers dancing on the redhead’s shoulders, then her back. They came together and lightly kissed.

“Hell yeah,” Jax uttered, giving Corey another shot in the side.

Chloe moved behind the office manager and tightly grasped the collar of her denim jacket in a decisively controlling way. Without warning, she roughly yanked it down to the older woman's elbows, exposing those lovely tanned shoulders, upper arms, and slight chest. Lauren gasped and arched her back, a shameless look of lust on her face. After some hesitation, she allowed the jacket to fall to her feet while both women locked their eyes on the mesmerized men in front of them.

Swaying to a gentle saxophone, Chloe placed her chin on Lauren's shoulder, hands wrapped around the brunette's very taut and firm mid-section. The dancer’s fingers slowly traced the contours of her abdominal muscles. Their lips met again, only this time the kiss held, lips smacking, nibbling. Chloe’s hands eventually cupped the thin bandeau and pulled at the tiny breasts beneath, nipples hard as erasers, just as pink and desperate to be pinched.

The two turned towards each other, embracing and kissing. Pulling Lauren’s bra over her head, the stripper flung it to the floor dramatically, as if still on stage. After mouthing and licking each delicious tit, Chloe led the brunette over to Jax and pressed her down into his lap. Lauren fell sideways over the young man, an arm around his neck to keep from sliding off. She looked at Corey and winked. He simply stared back at his now topless bride, still clad in tight latex leggings, feet bound by stiletto heels. He had no words, but didn't need any; his pulsing cock spoke volumes.

While soulful music played on, Chloe channeled her inner Autumn, standing in front of the other three in that snug leather dress, hands on her hips, her feet planted far enough apart to stretch the material tight. As she swiveled her waist, she slowly rotated, hands above her head, like an ice dancer showing her sensuous body from every angle. Corey blinked, trying to rid himself of lecherous thoughts about a girl who was barely out of her teens. Chloe sensed this and moved directly above him, her body a serpentine. She bent down and caressed his legs, a hand just grazing a modest but excited crotch. Smiling, the stripper turned her back to him and sank onto his lap, placing his bony fingers on her dresses' zipper pull.

Corey peeked at Lauren, who was still on Jax’s lap. One of the boy's hands cupped a naked breast and he was busily thumbing the erect nipple, seemingly fascinated by how hard it was. The older man swallowed and looked at the dancer's back, a trembling hand grasping the pull. The girl’s lily-white skin began to appear as the teeth lost their bite and the blue leather fell away from a smooth and delicate spine. She was not wearing a bra. And why would she?

When the zipper reached its stop, Chloe let the dress fall from her shoulders. She leaned back into Corey’s chest and took his hand in hers. Together they pulled the material down to her waist, freeing the full and meaty breasts he’d been ogling since her performance on the runway.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Go head, touch me,” the young girl whispered, placing her cheek next to his. “She won’t mind. Look.”

Swiveling his chin, Chloe led Corey's eyes to the pair sitting one cushion over. Jax now had his tongue down Lauren’s throat and a hand under her leggings as they made out not more than two feet away.

Corey groaned, then gingerly reached out to one of the stripper’s large tits. It was the first time in thirty years that he’d touched another woman. His aching dick felt like it would burst through the now too tight trousers. Chloe kissed him. He closed his eyes and let her tongue in, savoring the smell of her cherry lipstick as it swirled around his mouth. For the next ten minutes, the only sound in the apartment was smooth jazz and two couples engaged in heavy petting, all on the same couch.

After giving him time to get sufficiently worked up, Chloe pulled away from Corey and deliberately turned his attention back to Jax and Lauren. His wife was now writhing on the boy’s lap as he fingered her pussy beneath the latex pants.

“He’s going to fuck her, you know.”

“No, not fair," Corey hissed, "It's my turn.”

Sliding off his lap, the erotic entertainer unzipped the tenting slacks and fished out the fully erect six inches. Okay, maybe five.

“Nuh uh, not yet. Maybe never again," she laughed as she went down on his quivering pink pencil. "And you wanna know something else?”

“Mmmmm?”

“I’m gonna to fuck her too.”

+++++

Lauren's eyes rolled back in her head, arm wrapped tightly around the young man’s neck. He had at least two fingers buried in her pussy, evidenced by the rapid rise and fall of the shiny leggings between her legs. The other hand squeezed and pulled at her tiny breasts. "Oh, FUCK, yessssss!"

Corey gaped, mouth open, his gaze alternating between his wife being finger-fucked and the sexy 20-year-old between his thighs, lapping at his aging balls.

“Nuh, nuh, nuh, nuh…” Lauren repeated as her body quivered, Jax’s fingers working their magic. She leaned into his chest, forehead against his chin.

Chloe looked up and caught the older man watching his wanton wife. Smiling, she deep throated the cucked husband…all the way to the base. Not that far to go, really.

“AHHHHHH, ohhh,” Corey exhaled, basking in the pleasure that was the budding sex worker’s warm and inviting mouth.

Suddenly, Lauren arched her back, her head draped over the young man’s arm, black hair dangling to the couch.

“Mmmmmm, mmmmm, ohhhh…” she mewled, hugging Jax tightly as a tiny orgasm washed over her.

Corey too almost succumbed, but held back, wanting to enjoy the redhead’s blowjob just a while longer. But before he could even think about coating the back of her throat, Chloe pulled off, strands of precum sticking to plump lips. With a quick wipe, she stood and shimmied the dress to the floor.

No panties, what a surprise.

The girl looked down at him in just fishnet stockings and platform shoes, the neatly trimmed crimson landing strip, only about a quarter inch in width, leading his watering eyes to her pink treasure.

Fuck yeah. Today’s my lucky day.

Corey smiled sheepishly and grabbed her hand to bring her closer. To his surprise, she scoffed and pulled away, yanking her wrist from his fingertips. Astonished, he instead watched the dancer move to stand above Jax and Lauren.

“Shall we make a night of this?” Chloe purred.

Jax grinned with anticipation as his friend pulled Lauren off his lap. He stopped and looked over at the confused husband.

“We’re going to go fuck your wife silly,” the cocky Don Juan stated matter-of-factly. “You’re either in or out. What’ll it be?”

Corey could not speak. Heat radiated from his gut all the way down his legs and up through his cheeks. His breathing became rapid and uncontrolled. He wasn't sure if he should be pissed at the arrogant jackal talking to him that way in his own place, or complacent because what was unfolding was so damn intriguing.

“That’s what I thought,” the young man smirked. “We’ll leave the light on for you.”

+++++

A long, long way from home, the lonely but clearly aroused project manager remained on the sofa, cock hanging out of his fly. For the moment, he was content to just be within earshot of the wet, smacking sounds and occasional light moaning coming from the bedroom. He’d read about how intense pure auditory stimulation could be, and he’d fantasized about listening to Lauren getting fucked many times. But as minute after agonizing minute passed, his curiosity got the best of him. Quietly rolling off the couch, discarding his clothes along the way, he tiptoed to the doorjamb and peeked in. For a man with Corey’s kink, it was a sight to behold.

The comforter had been tossed carelessly to the footboard, and in the middle of the king bed lay his beautiful and completely naked wife. Gone were the leggings and stilettos, replaced by an equally nude Jax who had his face buried between her thighs, legs held high above his head by powerful tattooed arms. Chloe lay next the older woman and was kissing her passionately, gently massaging those itty-bitty titties. Lauren moaned into the stripper’s mouth as their tongues whorled around the other, pulling and tugging.

Jax’s tongue was busy as well, inching its way into the depths of the junior executive’s sopping wet pussy. Having just cum on the sofa, her slit was already oozing clear juices and he eagerly lapped up the delicious cocktail as quickly as it was secreted.

Corey absentmindedly began stroking himself as he watched the young man masterfully pleasing his wife. He wasn’t just eating her pussy, he was consuming it. Expertly alternating between his nose and fingers to massage her clit, he continued to burrow his tongue as deep as it would go. The way she was writhing on the bed, guttural moans growing louder by the second, his acumen at cunnilingus seemed almost…professional.

“Ohhh... ummmm...ohhh,” Lauren squirmed under Jax’s face, her hips raising to meet his mouth, trying to fuck the swirling pink appendage as it flicked from his mouth like a snake. He was tormenting her, edging her, taking her to brink again and again…until she was ready.

“NOW!” he told Chloe, who immediately took Lauren into her arms, her fingers rolling her friend’s nipples between her thumb and forefinger.

In one practiced motion, Jax latched his hand onto the gyrating cunt and buried three fingers into her undulating hole, his palm balancing on sticky, gooey lips.

“OH FUCK!” Lauren screamed, her head slamming repeatedly into Chloe’s chest.

“Let it go, baby,” the girl urged her moaning friend. “Cum for Jax!”

“Ohhhhhhhh,” came the primal utterance as the fourth finger entered her vagina.

Corey watched his wife’s face contort as her climax built. The way she was being held by Chloe, Jax’s hand between her legs, it reminded him of childbirth in some odd perverse and demented way.

“You like that, whore?” Jax barked. He’d done his homework.

“Nnnnggggggghhhhh…”

“Cum on my hand, slut!”

Lauren felt the final push between her legs as the boy’s entire fist slid in. “Oh GAWWWWWWDDD noooooooo!”

“Look, look what you’re doing to your husband, whore!” Jax yelled.

Lauren’s head snapped towards the bedroom door, her eyes afire. The sight of her naked Corey, furiously masturbating as she was being fisted by the young stud, sent her over the edge.

“Oh God Corey! Oh please…ohhh...ohhh..GAH!”

“That’s it baby, relax and let all that energy flow out your body,” Chloe coached, “right out that pretty little cunt!”

“FUUUCCCKKKK!”

Jax kept pumping his fist in and out of the wild wanton wife as the natural lubrication continued to build. Corey could hear the sloshing of his hand all the way across the room.

Splat, splat, splish.

“Do it Lauren!” Chloe demanded, “Cum for us. CUM FOR US ALL, YOU FUCKING WHORE!”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AAAAHHHHHHHHH EEEEEEEEEE!”

And cum she did. Her body bolted upright as she grabbed Jax’s hair, pulling it hard. The first spurt was more of a spritz than a squirt. Jax pressed his thumb into her engorged clit, triggering exactly what he hoped would happen. Suddenly a small geyser jetted from Lauren’s pussy, coating his fist and the length of his arm with one, then a second, eruption. Through it all, Chloe held her tight until the stream subsided and her hips stopped bucking, gently stroking her hair until her mind rejoined her body.

Jax crawled up the mattress through the puddle and flopped down next to the two girls.

“You like?” he asked Lauren, who was still trying to regain her breath.

“Never in my life…” she panted, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Well now you have.”

Amidst the lingering intimacy, they happen to hear an odd whine coming from the foot of the bed. The three looked down to see a naked Corey, dick in hand, going for a home run.

“OH NO, YOU FUCKING DON’T!” Chloe yelled, leaping off the mattress. She slapped his hands away and pulled him onto the bed to groans of a ruined orgasm.

“Serves you right,” she admonished him. “Spying on your lovely wife. Did you see what you came to see?”

Corey didn’t answer. He just leaned back against the headboard, exhausted, as spasms of what was to be a fitting release faded away. Lauren was laying on her side with a small grin, staring at her husband. Jax lay behind her, caressing a dainty arm.

“I didn’t hear you," Chloe pushed. "You know what I think, Jax? I think this prying perv is hoping to see more. Aren’t you perv?”

Prying perv? This is my apartment too. Still, he was riding the high of a nut that didn’t happen, so Corey closed his eyes and simply nodded his head.

“Then what is it you came to see, hmmm? C’mon, we’re waiting.”

The older man’s moist eyes could not hide the internal conflict that was tearing him apart. A part of him just wanted to be alone with his wife, to make love, to cuddle. The other part…well…


“Still waiting.”


“Do her. Fuck the cheap whore.”

The smile on Lauren’s face faded slightly as Jax’s broadened. He stood at the end of the bed and roughly yanked her ass to the edge. “With pleasure, dude.”

Corey looked on as the heavily tattooed man positioned his cock between Lauren’s thighs and ran the head along the folds of her sopping wet box.

“You heard him, J…fuck that slut,” Chloe ordered.

Lauren gasped at what was about to enter her. It was as long as Zane’s but much wider and rounder, like a can of potato chips. “Wait, oh god…” She was out of breath already, waving her hand to the side of the bed. “Drawer.”

All three looked at Corey expectantly. Muttering, he opened the nightstand and removed the one of the four remaining XL condom packets and tossed it to Jax. The boy caught it, tore open the packet, and rolled it on. Corey was envious at how smoothly it unfurled on the glistening member; no gaps, no slack. A perfect fit.

The teasing began in earnest as he pushed his impressive tool between reddening lips, but not quite penetrating. He spent the better part of five minutes simply rubbing the circumcised glans around her pulsing slit. His arousal was apparent too, as evidenced by the amount of leaking precum.

Finally, the impatient stripper, who had taken to fingering herself, had had enough. “C’mon, Jax, do it!”

Corey could easily tell when the boy first entered his wife. Hands gripping the sheets, her mouth opened wide as if to cry out, but there was no sound. The initial push and stretch had sucked the wind from her lungs.

Once in, the rest of the journey was easy, the lubrication from the fisting paving the way. As the fat cock traversed her viscous love canal, driving deeper, Lauren once again found her voice.

“OHHHH FUUCKK, you are sooooo big, you’re gonna tear me apart!”

Chloe laughed and leaned over her new friend, a crimson mane dangling around Lauren’s face.

“You’re barely going to feel that husband of yours after Jax is done with you.”

As if to confirm this, Jax moaned on a downstroke.

“Oh goddamn, baby, you're so tight.”

Corey’s cuck meter pegged red. He just had to jerk off.

“NO DON’T!” Chloe shouted at the old man as he grabbed himself. She immediately softened her tone. “It’s better to wait sweetie, it really is. Once that’s done,” she said, pointing to his wrinkled dick, then to her head, “this is done. Trust me.”

In front of the stunning stripper, Jax and Lauren were really hitting their stride. They were moving in unison, hips synchronized as he carefully made note of the depth that would please, not hurt. As their love making intensified, Corey laid against the headboard under the watchful eye of the young redhead. He did manage to play with his nipples, one hand on each pec – something she noticed and allowed - but his own stiff penis was left to bob by itself in the air, yearning for attention.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," Lauren bleated as the hunky twenty-something pounded his meat into her.

Jax was putting his back into it, pummeling that pussy with the artistry of a master tradesman. He grabbed Lauren's throat, closing his hand around her small neck. Their carnal bond deepened, souls bared to the other. Moving as one, Corey clearly saw the profound harmony as his wife stared into the eyes of her lover.

An odd sense of deja vu floated through the recesses of his memory...had he seen this movie before?

+++++

“Umpf…umpf…umpf…” the concupiscent Midwestern beauty panted with every thrust of the young man’s tool.

“Damn you’re so tight,” Jax grunted, surprised that a woman her age was still so snug. That spoke volumes as to hubby’s size. He threw a glance Corey’s way. “No way you’ve been treating this prime pussy right.” The older man’s hands were firmly planted on his chest, nipples rolling between trembling fingers, eyes glued to his wife getting ploughed. “Don’t worry, dude, I’ll make sure she get’s a proper fucking.”

“Oh shit…oh my god…oh my god…oh shit…I’m gonna cum,” Lauren howled.

Jax pulled out, quickly flipping her onto her belly and pulling her hips to his. “Not yet, doll.”

With one fell swoop, he drove the length of his cock deep into her dripping cunt. She brayed loudly as it filled her, his balls slapping against her bald labia. Once in, he continued the hammering. Grabbing a fistful of black mane, he rode Lauren like a professional. She truly was getting the dicking of her life.

“Fuck her Jax! Fuck that dirty little whore!” Chloe squealed with glee.

Jax grunted and smacked Lauren’s ass cheek one at a time. “Like it rough, slut?”

“Yes, yes, hit me, hurt me!”

Corey was aghast. Never had he heard his wife in the throes of such depraved passion. His own dick was ready to explode. The young girl noticed how purple it had become and smirked. The agony must be excruciating. Good.

Chloe laid back on the mattress and slid her legs over older woman’s shoulders, presenting her red muff to Lauren’s mouth.

“Eat me,” she cooed, grinding her slit into the older woman’s face.

Lauren opened her eyes and saw up close for the first time the 20-year-old’s vulva, a tuff of crimson pubes trimmed into a neat racing stripe, just above a smooth, pale hood where the girl’s clitoris was peeking out. Although her lesbian experiences were limited, Lauren’s tongue darted in and out instinctively between the folds, curling as it reacted to the sweet yet acidic taste.

Chloe pulled her lips apart, exposing the pink flesh, a stringy web of sticky strands already coating the inside. Lauren tried to keep her mouth on the stripper’s pussy, but it was difficult between Jax’s thrusts and her own arousal. But she soldiered on, recalling girl-on-girl videos from the internet. Pressing a finger into the top of the girl’s slit, she swirled a curled tongue around her button, sucking, teasing. It just seemed the thing to do.

And it was. Chloe squirmed convincingly, pressing her thighs against Lauren’s ears. She enjoyed the brunette's cunnilingus for a few moments, but knew the older woman was too inexperienced to make her cum. It didn’t matter though, Chloe wasn't there for herself.

While Jax continued his doggy assault on the hot executive’s cunt, the redhead finally returned to the overheated husband who was still pulling furiously at his man-boobs, the only physical stimuli he'd been allowed. Corey gasped as the young girl straddled his waist, large breasts hanging high on her chest, swinging freely above him. He winced as her well-coifed crack slid up to his throbbing dick. Chloe peered down at the pink and fully erect worm, now an angry shade of plum. She had to be careful. With all the stimulation, too much too soon would cause him to spill before it was time.

“Naughty boy. You like watching your wife, don’t you?”

“Yessss,” Corey hissed, trying to slide his tremulous twig between her legs.

Chloe wagged a finger at him. “Not yet, lover.”

“But I’m clean.”

”You’re not the one I’m worried about.” She looked in Lauren’s direction. “Your little whore has fucked a lot guys since she’s been down here, baby. Lots of guys.”

If Corey’s cuck meter had been a glass thermometer, it would have completely shattered. Barely able to speak, he struggled to reach for the drawer again.

The stripper stopped him. “An XL? My, our eyes are bigger than our dick, aren’t they?” Scurrying to her purse, she returned with a rubber wrapped in thin foil marked with a large letter “M”.

“I come prepared for all sizes,” she giggled, "even yours."

Chloe gingerly rolled it over his staff, minimizing stimulation.

“Did you hear Jax say how tight your lady is? If you'd been properly fucking that little pussy, she'd have been broke in years ago.”

“Mmphffff.”

The angry plum was magenta now, matching the stripper’s pubes.

“That’s okay. She's getting all the stretching she can handle now. That's what you get for leaving her down here all alone. She...doesn't...need...you...any...more.”

As if to accentuate the proclamation, the libidinous couple next to them were clearly peaking. Overcome with pure wanton pleasure, Lauren was convulsing uncontrollably under the massive cock’s assault.

“Ohhhhhhhh, fuck me Jax! Fuck me…fuck me…pleeeassssse fuck me!”

The young man grimaced, feeling a huge release nearing, “Goddamn, slut, your pussy is soooo good!”

It was time. Chloe positioned her hips over Corey’s waist and slowly lowered herself onto the wrinkled six inches, the opaque latex clinging tightly to the skinny shaft. He shuddered as it disappeared into her warm, moist hole. A hole his wife’s tongue had just been in. It was the first time in thirty years that he was inside another woman.

Don’t blow this! Don't cum, don’t cum, don’t cum.

The dancer leaned over, her meaty tits now just a tongue flick away, her crimson mane falling over her shoulders and into his eyes. Corey looked up into the youthful face. So sweet…

“Do me,” Chloe crooned, “Fuck my tender young pussy. It’s all yours tonight…Daddy.”

Tender it may have been, but the sex worker was anything but tight. Sloshy and cavernous would have been good words for it.

The stripper ground her hips hard into his groin, trying to feel something that would get her off. After hundreds of lovers, men of this size typically could not make her cum, and at that moment, she was very underwhelmed, barely feeling the garter snake slithering about inside. But as always, this wasn’t about her.

“Look at your wife,” Chloe demanded, pulling a dangling breast from Corey’s suckling mouth and turning his head.

Lauren and Jax had by now devolved into two animals humping in the wild, panting, screaming, panting, screaming.

“Take…my…cock…you…nasty…whore!” Jax bellowed with each thrust.

“Yes, yes, yes! Do it, stud! Give my pussy your love. I want to wear it!”

The young man snapped her head back, yanking on the long black hair wrapped around his hand. Feet firmly planted at the foot of the bed, his hips and ass were a machine now as he drove his piston into Lauren's mature, but oh-so-tight box.

“Fuck yeah…fuck yeah...fuck yeah...giving it to you...you DIRTY WHORE!”

Chloe jerked Corey’s chin back to hers. “Looks like he’s going to paint your wife like the Mona Lisa, cucky. Gonna blow her head clean off. Believe me, I know.”

“OH SHIT! OH SHIT! OH SHIT!” Corey stared intently into the youngster’s eyes, tears streaming out the corners of his.

“Do you like my hot little pussy, Daddy?” Her oozing pussy gripped his weathered penis and cranked it like a lever. She could see it in his eyes. The fire, the heat, the passion. And just a hint of shame.

“Do I remind you of someone? A young Lauren?”

“No, please don’t go there.”

“It’s okay, Daddy, we all have our fantasies,” Chloe whispered, milking his cock with clenched cunt. “Let me be your fantasy. Fuck me! Fuck me hard!”

“GONNA CUM, GONNA CUM, GONNA CUM!” Lauren screamed next to them from her down-dog.

“SLUT!” Jax roared again. He’d learned how to pace himself but was now on the brink.

It only took one last thrust to send Lauren over the edge. “AAAAAAAAHHHH, I…I…I OHHHHH, CUMMMMINNNNNGGGGG!”

The tsunami of her orgasm took hold fast, starting slowly, building, shaking Lauren’s entire body from fingers to toes, hips bucking in response. Her pussy impulsively clamped down on the boy’s cock, squeezing it hard for all its sticky reward. As good as it was, Jax's journeyman control simply could not hold back any longer. He flipped the pretty brunette on her back and knelt above her head. The semen bubbled up quickly as it shot from his sack like a rocket. He barely had the rubber off before it erupted onto Lauren’s hair and face.

“GODDAMN…FUCK…SHIT…NNNNNGGGGGAAAH!” the young man cried as his balls unloaded several days of steaming semen onto the older woman who eagerly bathed in his seed.

Seeing their climax, Chloe picked up the speed with her own lover, her hips appearing to dislocate from the rest of her body. They took on a life of their own, riding the gray-haired husband until she could see his face twisting and contorting.

“C’mon, baby, give it to me. Give it to Autumn.”

Turning his head again, Corey saw Jax’s spunk dripping onto Lauren’s forehead, her hands spreading it through her hair and onto her chest. She was laughing maniacally.

“Now you know what your whore wife does with her free time, cuck.”

Corey was melting down. “OH LAUREN…I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, BABE!”

Experience told the redhead he was close. A couple more tricks with her hips, a pinch or two to his nipples, and the telltale contractions began.

“Oh Jesus."

Chloe held Corey tight while the man forty years her senior whimpered, a look of sincere gratefulness in his eyes. It was not a huge orgasm, but one that gracefully spilled whatever sperm his aging balls could produce into her post-teenage cunt. "I’m there…I’m there…oh so there."

"That's a good Daddy," Chole purred, softly stroking his gray hair. "Let it flow out of you, baby. Give it all to me tonight. I'm here for you. Autumn's here for you."

+++++

The two couples lay still in post-coital peace. Jax next to Lauren and Chloe on top of the cuckolded husband. The smell of sex permeated the room, and the only sounds were heavy breathing and the ever-present jazz, a fitting soundtrack for the glorious cooldown.

After a few minutes, Chloe rolled off the older man who stood a bit too quickly. In that moment, Corey Miller learned that it didn’t matter whether a bottle of whiskey cost $50 or $800, if you drink it in its entirety, the damn thing it will drop you like a rock. And it did.

+++++

The passed out project manager heard the apartment's front door unlatch, prompting him to open one eye. It was all he could manage. It flitted around, searching to acquire his bearings. He was now on the living room couch, still in the clothes he'd worn that night. The apartment was quiet, except for whispers in the dark kitchen. Lauren and Jax. She handed the young man an envelope, kissed him on the cheek, and pushed her well-schooled lover into the hallway with a muted laugh. With an agonizing moan, the searing pain in Corey's head forced that lone eye shut. The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness again was the sound of his wife reentering the bedroom and closing the door.

+++++

The warmth from the rising sun caressed Corey’s face as his eyes – both of them this time – blinked open. Microscopic dust floated about in the sunlight. Only a hum from the refrigerator broke the silence as he sat up, rubbing his neck. The headache was still there, but manageable. Staggering to the coffee maker, he heard muffled, almost imperceptible sounds coming from the other room. A fragment from the night before recalled Jax leaving, but not Chloe.

Putting an ear to the door, he at first heard nothing. Then, there it was again, a sigh, a murmur, a whimper. Slowly he turned the handle and opened the door just a smidge. He pressed an eyeball to the crack and peered in.

In the golden rays of the morning sun, he saw the girls under the sheets. Chloe was on top of Lauren and the two were embracing, lips locked in a deep kiss. The covers rose and fell where their hips were, his wife’s arms folded around the redhead’s back, holding her tightly. The stripper’s prediction had come to fruition.

”I’m gonna fuck her too."

Their lovemaking appeared tender and lazy, with little urgency. The hallmark of morning sex. Corey couldn't look away, even though his head was in a thousand vice grips. The humping increased, whimpers morphing to moans with the occasional outburst. Chloe suddenly rose, the sheets falling from her back as she straddled Lauren’s waist. With one leg extended across the raven-haired beauty’s chest, foot to her cheek, the dancer began to grind her pubes into the older woman’s thigh, slowly moving forward until their pussies met. As their clits came together, the women gasped. More whispers, more murmurs. They were quite oblivious to the voyeur just outside the room.

With Lauren holding her lover’s leg tightly, they fucked each other passionately, moving in rhythm, mewling and panting. Slit to slit, their hips moved in an erotic dance, putting delicate but effective pressure on their swollen clits. Their breathing became rapid, moans turning to primal grunts. Lauren cried out when Chloe placed a palm on the woman’s labia and began tap-tap-tapping the clit while at the same time sliding their sopping wet holes against one another.

“Yessss, Chloe…yes Chloe!”

Corey looked on as his wife writhed beneath the redhead, her hips thrusting upward involuntarily to meet the young girl’s. It was one of the most sensual and erotic things he’d ever seen. He squeezed his crotch but there was no reaction. His fried brain simply would not connect to his weary cock. Several minutes passed as the pace – and the women’s groans - increased substantially. The sheen from their sweat began to cover shoulders and bellies. Friction between their legs was evidenced by occasional squeaks, but kept to a minimum by the copious amount of juices flowing from both of their very lubricated pussies.

It wasn’t long before the pair were sneering at each other with an intense, carnal kinship. Chloe threw her head back and howled at the ceiling. Lauren sunk into the pillows, lungs forcing primitive and almost unearthly rumbles from deep within her. The two lovers came at the same time, fittingly, having shared a special moment, one that had been building since that portentous lap dance weeks ago. The younger woman collapsed next to her new friend, and they cuddled affectionately, whispering things only they could know while regaining control of their breathing and emotions.

+++++

Corey backed away from the door with mixed thoughts, gently closing it, not wishing to interrupt the tender moment. A moment similar to one he himself had hope to share with his wife that night. He crept to the kitchen island and began to brew coffee, head hung low.

The day was not at all beginning the way he had hoped.

Here nearly twenty-four hours and everyone’s fucked my wife...except for me.

Perhaps it would get better. His phone chimed as he poured a cup of joe, and a reminder popped up on screen.

Dale Dactyl, Job interview, Le Café, 2 hours.

+++++

[Ky_Da]

Good stuff. I liked the detail about Cory picking up the box of condoms and only finding 4 left.

[mundyman]

That was fucking amazing!!!!!
Blistering.

[MichaelW]

Wow. Sad the chapter ended and the next chapter was not there waiting to be read.

[mundyman]

So given your intro on page1, what in this last chapter is fiction and what actually happened??

[SimpleEnigma]

Thanks for the feedback, all.

@Ky…yeah that was actually “ripped from a headline” in my own past, only it was back in college and it was an old FWB’s nightstand in her apartment. Although I’d seen larger cocks in locker rooms, it was the first time I had to come to terms with my average “medium” size in context to sex. Believe me, the next time she and I did the dirty it was definitely on my mind.

@mundyman…see my comment to Ky. That was one “truth.” Without giving too much away and thus distracting from Lauren and Corey’s story, I will only say this:

- Some friends had a similar beach adventure, complete with near discovery by the beach patrol.
- One couple we hang out with, the wife is an ex stripper and was an escort for a period of time. There may have been a “time or two” we four played together.
- In the past, we knew a guy that had a brief career in “film”. He was truly a professional, just ask my wife.
- And me and the missus were discussing her dating one night in a restaurant when two of her still platonic male friends stopped by our table to say high. Did they ever become more than just friends? Perhaps the answer lies with Corey and Lauren.

In general, for any episodes related to this fictional representation of real life, there is truth and embellishment. Those that were there know the truth. Those that weren’t…well, reading about it is all part of the fun now, isn’t it?

Stay tolerant, my friends.

[Guhunkadorn]

So much to unpack here...just, wow.

Love how the 20 yr old stripper says to the 61 yr old husband: when this is done here, then it's done up here....classic line.

Lauren and Chloe together in bed while poor Corey discovers himself banished to the living room couch...great ending.

He must now be considering the possibility that he'll return north NOT having enjoyed his wife's pussy, and all the implications/complications that go with that.

And perhaps most ominously for Corey, what will develop between Mr. moral cowboy hat guy and Lauren??....now that Corey had basically told Lauren he WANTS her to have a REAL boyfriend - in so many words.

All roads point to a potentially punishing 'be careful what you wish for scenario'...AND REGARDLESS OF THE ENDING I'M LOVING THE JOURNEY.

[mundyman]

Thanks for the feedback, all.

@Ky…yeah that was actually “ripped from a headline” in my own past, only it was back in college and it was an old FWB’s nightstand in her apartment. Although I’d seen larger cocks in locker rooms, it was the first time I had to come to terms with my average “medium” size in context to sex. Believe me, the next time she and I did the dirty it was definitely on my mind.

@mundyman…see my comment to Ky. That was one “truth.” Without giving too much away and thus distracting from Lauren and Corey’s story, I will only say this:

- Some friends had a similar beach adventure, complete with near discovery by the beach patrol.
- One couple we hang out with, the wife is an ex stripper and was an escort for a period of time. There may have been a “time or two” we four played together.
- In the past, we knew a guy that had a brief career in “film”. He was truly a professional, just ask my wife.
- And me and the missus were discussing her dating one night in a restaurant when two of her still platonic male friends stopped by our table to say high. Did they ever become more than just friends? Perhaps the answer lies with Corey and Lauren.

In general, for any episodes related to this fictional representation of real life, there is truth and embellishment. Those that were there know the truth. Those that weren’t…well, reading about it is all part of the fun now, isn’t it?

Stay tolerant, my friends.

Thank you for the response. It is just enough to keep the wheels turning, the heat on high, and the sizzle on intense.
Your story and the way you write are truly extraordinary!
Thank you for your time and effort.
Eagerly awaiting the next installment.


PS did you and your wife ever play with denial Or chastity?

[JustWantToWatch]

That was the best chapter yet!!!

[Fred_Garvin]

I'm loving the story of Lauren ascending, and Corey descending into the cuckold abyss...

Here's another deep probing question about the real-life Corey and Lauren:

Are you actually Iowa State fans?

[OOAA]

Amazing story SimpleEnigma !!!!!!!!!!!

Really hot, well written and long!! THANKS!!!

I was hoping for an S condom for hubby instead of the M one

[SimpleEnigma]

@Fred: I’m just an American football fan in general. Mrs. Enigma is definitely a football widow during the season. But my real preference is pocket pool. She told me to write that.

@OOAA: Since Corey is an amalgamation of several of our male friends and me, the missus (and coauthor) decided on 6” for our conflicted protagonist. Not large, but not unrealistically small either. As anybody who has ever worn a condom knows, it’s really the girth not the length that determines what ya buy. But we used artistic license to keep it simple and get the point across.

Glad you are all enjoying. We continue to draw past experiences out of our special circle of friends to apply to the Iowan couple. One of them actually told us about an adventure that would fit perfectly with Corey and Lauren, we just have to figure out how to weave it in. More to come.

[OOAA]

@Fred: I’m just an American football fan in general. Mrs. Enigma is definitely a football widow during the season. But my real preference is pocket pool. She told me to write that.

@OOAA: Since Corey is an amalgamation of several of our male friends and me, the missus (and coauthor) decided on 6” for our conflicted protagonist. Not large, but not unrealistically small either. As anybody who has ever worn a condom knows, it’s really the girth not the length that determines what ya buy. But we used artistic license to keep it simple and get the point across.

Glad you are all enjoying. We continue to draw past experiences out of our special circle of friends to apply to the Iowan couple. One of them actually told us about an adventure that would fit perfectly with Corey and Lauren, we just have to figure out how to weave it in. More to come.

Thanks for the message!!! No problem at all, of course!! In fact you authors are the drivers of this hot car

...based on my tastes, though, I would have decreased some inches... you know

[SimpleEnigma]

========
Chapter 15
========

December 23rd. Just over 2 months to go.

The ringtone echoed loudly from somewhere in the apartment, jostling Lauren from a deep sleep. Her heavy eyes slid open, then squinted in the morning sun. Curled next to her, facing the opposite direction with sheets pulled tightly to a pale neck, lay Chloe Morgan. The young stripper was fast asleep.

Swinging aching feet to the floor, the disheveled brunette rubbed her temples to mitigate the hangover that was clouding any semblance of clear thought. Not wishing to disturb the redhead, she gently lifted herself off the mattress and slowly stood, wobbling a bit until gaining confidence in her balance.

Lauren winced.

There it was again, that damn phone. Who the hell is calling so early?

Naked, she stumbled to the kitchen and fished the device from her purse just as it stopped ringing. It had been her daughter, Caroline. No surprise there; the girls often called on Saturday mornings to catch up. The real shocker was the time. Already eleven o’clock!

So, where the hell is Corey, and why didn't he answer the phone?

The couch where Jax had deposited her blacked-out husband some six hours prior was empty, the small blanket she’d thrown on him now lay neatly folded on one of the cushions. A half drank cup of coffee sat on the cutting board next to the dishwasher, and a suit bag was hanging neatly from a kitchen cabinet handle.

Of course! The interview! And I was supposed to help him get ready.

Lauren cursed herself for not setting an alarm. Armed with a cup of coffee and a heavy dose of guilt, she snuck out to the balcony and returned her daughter's call. As they chatted, Chloe was visible through the bedroom window overlooking the veranda.

How could such an young, angelic face be so...naughty?

But what was worse? A 20-year-old exotic dancer, or the 49-year-old that slept with her?

The pure depravity of it did not escape Lauren, nor did the fact that she began to get wet just gazing upon the sleeping beauty. When Chloe’s eyes fluttered open, she saw the older woman talking on the phone and waved through the window.

The call ended a few minutes later and Lauren joined her new lover in the bedroom as she was shimmying into last night's dress, pushing meaty breasts back inside the outfit, then pulling on very high heels.

"Well, you look happy," Chloe observed, struggling with one shoe.

"Yeah, that was my daughter. She's coming for a visit next week. Winter break."

"College student?"

"School counselor."

"Ah, then we have something in common."

Lauren coughed. You mean besides both of you being in your twenties?

The two sat in silence while the younger woman threaded straps through tiny metal buckles.

“I suppose last night was just another day at the office for you, huh?” Lauren asked meekly.

Chloe shot the pretty brunette an annoyed but forgiving look. She was used to people seeing her as just a hired fuck. “Is that what you think? I was working? Like Jax?”

Lauren paled. She hadn't meant to offend. “I'm sorry, I just figured when I asked you to help with Corey, you know, I’d get a bill. Nothing is free these days.”

Chloe leaned over and kissed the Iowan native. “Friendship is. And don't worry, the only bill you'll get is from Jax.”

“I already paid him.”

“Then we’re all square. Look, you can believe what you want, but I wasn’t on the clock last night. Yeah, you had an agenda and all, but I didn't agree to help you as a hired hand. That wasn't Autumn that made love to you, it was Chloe. I like you. I think we could be friends. Quite frankly, I don't have many of those. And you're special."

Lauren managed a smile. “I think you're special too.”

Chloe stood up and smoothed her dress.

“Hubby still passed out?”

“No, he went to a job interview this morning.”

“Ouch.”

Lauren nodded. “He's probably rough around the edges right now. Anyway, thank you for helping with his…you know...thing.”

“Oh, I definitely think we hit the mark," Chloe tossed her hair and picked up her purse. "We cucked him pretty hard. Not as hard as we could have, mind you, but he seemed to be into it.”

“I guess he’ll let me know.”

“There's a sadness about him, you know.”

“He's lonely. That'll change soon. I just hope he can hang in there.”

The young girl winked. “Then create some memories to tide him over.”

"I intend to do just that. Listen, thank Jax again for me, too. I know I was just another, um, customer, but...wow," Lauren reddened, fanning her face.

Chloe laughed. “Yeah, don't I know it. We occasionally team up. He does the hotwife thing a lot. You wouldn’t believe how many couples want the experience but don’t want to go through the trouble of bars or risk being seen. I asked him to keep the bull-cuck interaction fairly mild this time, since you didn't know how Corey was going to react. Maybe you guys can go deeper next time. Jax can really turn on the humiliation if you want. Believe me, you have no idea what some cucks get off on."

Lauren looked down at her hands. Oh, I've got a pretty good idea.

The dancer saw the doubt in her friend's eyes. "Make no mistake, honey, he's got it bad. I may be young, but I can tell. He doesn't just like to watch you have sex, he wants to wallow in it, to bask in the fact that he's no longer as virile as the man who's fucking you."

"I never would have guessed that. And after all these years."

"Those you'd least suspect get bitten by the notion. Powerful men, like bank presidents. Tough guys, like firemen and soldiers. Once it gets in their heads, its like a drug. Hard to shake. "

"I might have to give Jax a call next time Corey's in town."

"I think he'd like that, if he's available. Just know he mostly does vids and shoots a lot."

“Pornos?”

“Adult films. Low-budget, not the slick stuff coming out of LA. Cam girls hire him a lot.”

“And you?”

Chloe smirked. “There may be a few shorts out there with me in them.”

"Well, you guys are very good actors."

"And so are you."

The junior executive blushed. "I wasn't acting."

The two women kissed at the door, ignoring the spinster in 23g who was taking her dog to the elevator. They giggled at the dirty look she telegraphed their way.

“Thanks again," Lauren smiled. "You made us very happy.”

“Hey, it’s what I do. Tootles!"

Moments later Chloe could be heard praising the small terrier in the lift as she joined the neighbor for the ride down.

Lauren leaned against the closing apartment door. She knew she should be focusing on the day ahead, but there were far weightier things on her mind.

+++++

Dale Dactyl sat at a table for two on the patio of Le Cafe, sipping a vodka martini. He was simply dressed in a floral shirt, white trousers, and brown loafers. Although one of the richest men in southeast Florida, you'd never know it by his appearance. No gold jewelry or Rolodex for him. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy wealth; that much was evidenced by the limo that took him everywhere and a sailboat docked in Fort Lauderdale. It’s just that he didn’t feel the need to flaunt it. In fact, he didn't even feel rich. Just some guy who was lucky enough to have positioned his small construction company to take advantage of the building boon in the 2000s. That, and having a good relationship with local unions helped catapult him to the top. Depending on the time of year, his company had fifteen to twenty residential developments underway at any one time. At 53, he wanted to put down the hammer and step back from the nine-to-five so he could travel and live life. That’s why he needed an experienced project manager to help oversee the growing inventory of homes and high-rises.

Looking out over Biscayne Bay, Dactyl admired the expansive marinas filled with every type of vessel. Although he and his wife Amanda preferred Fort Lauderdale, Miami was okay too. One thing was for sure, he thought while admiring the ass of a pretty waitress as she walked by, both cities had really hot women.

+++++

Corey trudged past the towering hotels and million-dollar condos on his way to the water. His head was about to detonate, but it wasn't all related to the hangover. There was no choice but to press on with the interview. It could make a difference between a good life and great one. With Lauren.

What would that life look like? Expensive house in the 'burbs? One of those stuffy high-rise villas in the sky? Maybe a small sea-faring boat of their own? He was full of hope, trying to stay upbeat about how things might play out. But there were darker thoughts as well.

When he did finally live here, would she still be willing to play? Lauren wasn't his slave. She could stop at any time. Yet there were no indications she wanted to.

Of course, she doesn't. Face it, man, whatever Lauren does now is well beyond just satiating your perverted mind. She's bought into it. She digs it.

It was true. Of the ten lovers he knew of - two of them women - he'd only set up one of those. That had been with his best friend Zane. All the others, she had solicited.

What if it got to be too much, too intense?

Then why bring up dating, you fool? You sit at home fretting about her finding someone else, then talk about dating? What the fuck's wrong with you?

The fetish, that's what.

It just went to show how strong the pull was. It consumed every waking moment. At work, he'd see the coworkers Lauren had fantasized about, then have an overwhelming urge to masturbate in some remote porta-potty. He'd drive by some of their favorite bars and imagine she was in there, flirting with their friends. He'd start streaming an old western, then find himself searching for new hotwife videos.

Yes, he had it bad, and it was getting worse. Those things Lauren and her friends had said last night were daggers, but in a sick, gratifying way. He couldn't remember his dick being any harder. The sad part was, it wasn't because his 61-year-old cock was in 20-year-old pussy. No, it was because he was watching his wife getting pounded into the mattress by a tattooed gigolo!

And if that wasn't enough, there were the spears of humiliation.

Lauren alluding to him being a "five minute" man, and not having the right "equipment" to play nude volleyball.

Him being told HE got to decide how nasty she should get, but in reality, the whole night had already been planned.

Her leaving his side to go to Max.

That kid's arrogant attitude, telling Corey he hadn't treated her pussy right.

Chloe denying him sex with Lauren, saying he may never fuck her again. Her laughing at his attempt to use an XL condom.

And the one that hurt the most:

"She doesn't need you anymore."

His heart may have taken the brunt of the anguish, but the rest of his body had bathed in the sweet emotional rollercoaster that all men of his ilk craved.

And he couldn't explain why. It's just the way he was wired.

+++++

“Mr. Dactyl?”

Dale looked up and saw an older man with pale, pasty skin smiling at him. Definitely not a native Floridian.

“Mr. Miller? Good to meet you, please have a seat.”

For the sake of the interview and the future it might hold, Corey had pushed his previous thoughts into the recesses of his mind before entering the restaurant. What stood before the Florida construction guru was now a confident project manager with thirty-five years in the business.

The men ordered a round of drinks and spent a good part of the first thirty minutes getting to know each other. Dale spoke of his days as a framer, working sunup to sundown for others, until starting his own firm. Corey listened intently to the story and was impressed. Just a regular guy who clawed his way up the food chain the hard way.

Corey reciprocated, running down his lengthy years of service managing large scale construction efforts. Although most of those had been in commercial and health care, he didn’t think a pivot would be too hard, given his experience. Dactyl agreed. The shrewd businessman had already done his research and knew Miller was the right guy for the job.

“How’s your wife feel about you being away from home? Not far, within the state, and not often. But you may occasionally have to set up shop on site for a week or so.”

“She's lived without me for six months now. I think we can survive a week or two apart here and there. Did you have a figure in mind?”

Corey had to contain his enthusiasm when Dale threw out a starting figure. A 35% increase from his current pay.

“What do you say? I’ll even throw in a car of your choice, seeing as you’ll be driving around our fine state.”

With a broad smile, Corey held out his hand. “I’d say we have a deal.”

“Good,” Dale nodded, polishing off his second martini, “See you in mid-March. Take a little time off before you start and take that wife of yours on vacation. You’ll need it.”

“Yes, sir!”

The newest employee of privately held Dactyl Construction was all grins as he walked backed to the apartment. The life he and Lauren had envisioned together was finally falling into place. Retire to Florida and grow old in each other's arms!

What a wonderful life it was.

+++++

”Do her. Fuck the cheap whore.”

Those were Corey’s exact words, Lauren fretted, blurted out last night as Jax prepared to fuck her. The way her husband used them…they weren’t tongue-in-cheek. They didn’t come out as playful or coltish. It was as if he was trying to make a statement. A vulgar one.

Had that whole scene been too much for him? Was the long-distance marriage starting to take it’s toll? Had they pushed things too far?

A whore.

She bit her lip.

Of course, I’m a whore now. By anyone’s definition.

And oddly enough, it didn't feel wrong.

+++++

When Corey returned two hours later, Lauren could tell he had good news. Three decades of marriage tends to provide that instinct. The look on her face was priceless when she learned of the job offer.

“Oh my god, babe,” she threw her arms around his neck, “that’s wonderful! We need to celebrate!”

He spied her braless breasts beneath a well-worn tank-top and kissed her. “That’s exactly what I was thinking too.”

And yet, there was something wrong. It was subtle, but there. A tiny hesitation when he had pulled her near.

“Okay, what gives?”

Lauren shook her head. She didn't want to ruin his happy announcement. It wasn’t until he persisted that she finally opened up.

“Fine. We need to talk.”

“About the job?”

“About us.”

Corey’s expression turned to one of concern as she led him to the sofa, patting the cushion next to her.

“Things have been…different…between us, you know, since I moved here.”

"Really, I hadn't noticed."

The sarcasm was thick, earning him a foul look.

“C’mon, babe," he said solemnly. "I'll admit, the dynamics have changed, but we’re still Corey and Lauren. The two amigos, remember? And wonderful kids to boot!”

Uh oh, there it is. The expression every husband gets when a storm is brewing.

“You're wrong!" she cried, folding her arms. "More like Corey, who sent his wife to Sodom and Gomorrah, and Lauren the good mom turned slut.”

“I sent you? Laur, sweetie, you just said that you were having fun with all this, that you weren’t exactly living a penance.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“You called me a cheap whore.”

Corey massaged his aching head, feeling a little sideswiped. “Huh?"

“Last night you called me a cheap whore.”

“I…I don’t remember that specifically. But if I did, it’s only because..."

"...the shoe fits. That's is what you're trying to say, right?"

"Hey, whoa. You guys didn’t exactly pull any punches with me.”

Lauren sank to the couch and exhaled, her little cheeks puffing out. “I know, I know. I guess we're both making assumptions. I don't know, this whole arrangement, it seems to consume our lives. We don’t talk about normal things anymore. Hey, did you hear the new song on the radio? Hey, can you pick up some sugar at the market? I never thought I’d say this, but I miss the normalcy.”

“We live fifteen-hundred miles from away each other. For married couples, it's not normal.”

“You know what I mean, Corey!” Lauren frowned, standing up. She was pacing now. “When we do find the time to talk, it always turns to sex. My sex. Lauren, did you go out tonight? Lauren, did anyone hit on you? Lauren, did you sleep with anyone? I mean, it's all we talk about!"

The tears began to well up in those stormy eyes.

“And the thing is, you’re right. I am a whore now.”

Corey hung his head. This just wasn’t worth it. When he started pushing her six months ago, it was only to test the waters. Any distress, any jealousy, any angst…that was supposed to be within him, not her. A hotwife was supposed to be free to experience others, unshackled from the chains of a traditional marriage. She’s not supposed to be crying.

He rose and pulled her into his arms. “You were only trying to please me. I can’t make love like I used to. I know this and you do too. So now you're free to find those that can. Is that wrong? I don't think so. What we do is nobody else’s business. And I for one do not think you’re a cheap whore!”

Lauren managed a weak smile, sniffling. “Just a regular one, huh?”

Corey laughed. “Yeah, look at us. A sick, twisted bastard and his whore. But I want you to know, we can end this anytime, go back to the way it used to be.”

She tightened her hug. "I’m not sure we can. I’m not the girl I was. And I’m not sure I can ever be her again.”

A mist clouded Corey’s vision. For the first time, the reality of the lifestyle hit him like a sledgehammer. It was so hard to see from a distance, through video chats, but up close, there it was in her eyes. There was no going back. How many couples before them had thought the same thing? Fact is, you can’t. You can’t unhear those peculiar sounds she makes only when she's with another lover. You can’t unsee the way she looks at him with unbridled, animalistic lust. Corey was learning to accept this as part of living with his fetish. Past deeds were the kink's exhaust. They could not be changed.

“It’s okay, I kind of like the new girl,” he said in a feeble attempt at comforting her, unsure he believed his own words. “So, now what?”

Lauren broke their embrace and put a finger to his lips.

“Let’s go celebrate your new job."

+++++

Leading her husband to the bedroom, Lauren pushed him onto the bed and undid his trousers. Corey smiled dreamily as the mother of his children pulled aside the loose boxers and kissed the head of his soft cock. Her tongue flicked snake-like around the flaccid six-inches, licking down one side of the shaft, then up the other. Recalling what she’d learned over the past few months, she pulled out all the stops. She fucked his dick with her mouth, deep throated him until his wiry pubes poked her nostrils and pressed a thumb into that oh-so-soft depression at the base. Yet, despite her best efforts, the most Corey could muster was a weak semi, acting more like a jumbo gummy worm than a real cock.

Seriously? And it’s been weeks since he's fucked me?

He saw it in her eyes and felt the shame.

“I’m sorry, babe.”

Straddling his hips, Lauren kept trying, grinding her shorts into the once venerable dick. Her hands fisted it, gently tugging at the loose skin. Nothing worked. Frustration began to set in. At his age, she didn’t expect him to be a Jax, but it would be nice if a husband could at least get it up for his wife.

“I want to feel you inside me," she whined.

“Me too.”

“Then what’s wrong, babe?” Her annoyance was showing. “Don’t you want to make love to me?”

“I’m trying.”

“You manage to get hard for Chloe.”

“We both know that was because of you and your stud-on-a-stick.”

“I see. So, the only way you can get it up now is seeing me fuck someone else? News flash…there’s not always going to be someone else around.”

This was not going well. And certainly not helping solve the problem at hand.

“That’s not true! It’s just that you guys were so hot together.”

Lauren scoffed and rolled off him.

“And you wonder why I fuck other men.”

“And you wonder why I call you a whore!”

“Go to hell!”

She almost made it to the bedroom door before Corey blocked her way. Something in him snapped. He didn't know what, but he could feel it. Grabbing her hair, he used it to drag her back to the bed.

“Oww, Corey, what the fuck? You’re hurting me!”

“Isn't that what you like, slut? So, it's okay for my best friend to rough you up, but not me? Oh, I'm gonna fuck you alright. Fuck you like the goddamn whore you are!”

Ripping off the tank top, he pinned her flailing arms to the mattress and peppered her face and neck with sloppy, imprecise kisses.

Lauren struggled mightily, her body squirming under his weight, shocked by his overt actions.

"STOP! JUST STOP!"

For the first time in his life, Corey Miller slapped a woman. She cried out in astonishment when the back of his hand contacted her cheek.

"You PRICK!"

"BITCH!

The second backhand struck the opposite cheek, this time much harder, turning her head.

"FUCKING CUCK!"

She tried to keep him from pulling off her shorts but lost that battle too. Corey ripped her panties away and shoved three fingers into a very sopping wet pussy. He tap, tapped, tapped her clit with one hand, and slapped her tiny breasts with the other.

"Like that, bitch?"

Lauren sneered at him, still struggling. One hand kept fucking her as he raised the other for yet another strike. She spit in his face.

"LOSER! Needs other men to fuck his wife 'cause he can't!"

SLAP!

Tears streamed down her reddening face. She reached up and grabbed his ears, pulling them hard.

"Corey, PLEASE STOP..."

"No way, slut. You want to get fucked, and fucked you'll get."

Corey pinned her arms and mounted her with rock hard dick. To his surprise, the fight began to diminish as outrage appeared to turn to lust. Slowly, her cries of protest were replaced by soft whimpers, and she opened her legs to accept him.

“Yesssss,” Lauren hissed, hips wiggling upwards to meet his.

He snaked his tongue into her mouth. She gently bit it.

“Do it. Fuck your slut wife!”

And he did. With one quick motion, Corey plunged all six inches into her. Both gasped.

“Oh, Lauren!”

“Mmmmm, Coreeeeee.”

He pushed in and pulled back, slowly, wanting to last as long as possible.

“Gonna fuck you good, babe!”

She moaned loudly at the first deep thrust.

“Gonna fuck you long!”

“OH YES!”

The second thrust caused Corey’s eyes to roll back into his head. Soooo much better than the gym socks he'd been relegated to!

“DO ME!” Lauren demanded.

As his pace increased, so did confidence in his stamina. She sync’d with Corey's rhythm, and they began their lover’s dance, panting and grunting. Her pussy was dripping now, providing all the lubrication his cock needed. As their bodies writhed as one, Lauren’s lust grew, her eyes on fire. To Corey they seemed…unnatural. Clawing at his back like an animal, she dug her nails deep into his skin. He was quite sure they were drawing blood.

“Damn, girl!”

“FUCK ME!”

“I am!”

“HARDER!”

“Umpfffff…”

Lauren's body was in overdrive, a primordial desire out of control. Without warning, she laughed maniacally and pulled the pulsating cock out of her pussy. The next thing Corey knew, she was on her belly and thrusting her ass in the air.

He smiled, taking the cue. Doggystyle was one of his favorite positions. Sidling up behind her, he carefully aligned his cock with her juicy labia.

“Not there,” she said, shaking her head violently. “Here.”

Reaching back with both hands, she pulled her ass apart, providing an unfettered view of her gaping brown hole. The implication of what was being offered caught him off guard. What? That had always been a no-fly zone.

“Are you sure?”

“Do it before I change my mind.”

Unsure of how to proceed - he’d seen lots of anal porn, but never experienced it - Corey gingerly placed the head of his circumcised dick against the puckering crevice. Eying her asshole, he couldn’t help noticing how it resembled an inverted volcano, with tiny wrinkles of skin fading into the abyss. This is sooooo crazy.

Not wanting to injure, he gently pressed the head of his cock into the small opening. An inch of it disappeared, but not without resistance.

“I…I don’t know, it’s pretty tight.”

Lauren giggled. “I’m pretty sure it's supposed to be that way. Get the lube.”

Corey scrambled to the drawer where The Chairman was kept and grabbed the KY. After lathering up, he grasped her hips and guided his thin greasy member into the once forbidden hole. This time, it slid in easily, nearly halfway.

“Oh fuck,” Lauren gasped, preparing her knees for what was to come.

Encouraged, Corey went deeper, slowly, until his balls touched her pussy. The feeling was incredible, like her whole being had swallowed him, the sphincter collapsing around his cock like a black hole. Nothing escapes was the thought that popped into his head. As strange as it sounded, he was almost afraid to move.

“Now what?”

Face down in the sheets, Lauren tittered.

“Really? What do you think, silly?”

Corey eased back, but not completely out. The compression around his shaft was like nothing he’d ever experienced. Slowly but surely, he began to rock back and forth, building speed. His main concern was hurting her, but growing moans of pleasure told him he had nothing to fear. Relaxing, he began to enjoy it too.

I’m in her ass! I can’t believe I’m actually in her asshole!

“Oh YEAH, baby, pack that shit!” Lauren howled. Apparently, she'd not forgotten Juan and his epigram. “Treat me like the slut I am!”

The sheer decadence of the moment caused Corey to lose it - again. Slapping her ass hard, he grabbed a fistful of his wife’s long black mane, jerking her neck upward, her back arching to accommodate the strain. Driving his cock into her rectum as far as he could, he became the Neanderthal she needed.

“NASTY WHORE! You been fucking around on me, haven't you?"

Lauren laughed again. She knew what he wanted to hear. “You have no idea, Twisty. Soooo many men. So much dick.”

Corey almost came but kept his cool. She moaned with desire. Unlike with the Latino, her husband's cock actually felt good in there. No pain, just fullness, likely due to the smaller size and a healthy dose of lube. The latter was allowing for frictionless spearing of her small anus, but introduced a lot of air, producing a phenomenon not unfamiliar to those who've experienced anal pleasures.

Fffffffttttttttttt, her colon queefed. Then again.

The couple had to slow down the first few times to stop laughing. But that didn't last for long. Lauren continued to ground her ass into his undulating hips while he drove his cock deep, one hand on the small of her back, his balls slapping her taint repeatedly.

“Let the neighbors hear you, SLUT!”

She cried out, a loud howl reverberating throughout the small apartment.

"What do they hear when I'm not here, whore?"

"No, Corey, don't make me tell you," Lauren bayed. "Please don't make me."

He slapped her ass cheeks again. "TELL ME SLUT!"

"Every night, Corey, they hear me get fucked. Every...single...night. They know their names by now too, babe. Tony, Tommy, Amy, Max! I beg them all...please, PLEASE FUCK ME LIKE MY LOSER HUSBAND CAN'T!"

Corey grimaced as the heat from his swinging sack began to rise. His imagination was running amok.

"How many?"

Lauren laughed as his cock pounded her.

"I...I can't count that high."

"Oh shit, baby, no."

She could tell he was getting close.

"Countless men, Corey. Countless have taken me right here in this bed. While you jerk off at home, they've laughed at our wedding picture, especially when they spew their hot spunk deep in my whore wife pussy."

It was too much. Corey couldn't hold it together much longer. The sight of his cock impaling her asshole, the gradual discoloration of greasy lube, and the unique aroma wafting up from the persistent queefing was overloading his senses.

“Gonna cum,” he wheezed. "Good god, I'm gonna cum."

“Do it, babe, blow in my ass.”

"AAAAHH...AAAAHH...AAAAHHHHHH!"

"Just like all the rest have."

"OHHH GAAWWWDDD LAAAAURRRRRRENNNNNNN!"

His orgasm hit quickly, flooding her bowels with thick, steaming semen. She could feel the warmth exploding in the tight, confined space, the blowback squirting out of her ass and onto the sheets. Crowing loudly, Corey bent over his wife's body and shook uncontrollably. No longer able to bear his trembling weight, Lauren collapsed, ramming her face into the mattress. Panting, he lay on her back with his cock still inside her smelly hole, both trying to recover.

“You...you like that, baby?” she asked with a whisper, squeezing a sore sphincter to milk the last bit of cream into her.

“Damn, that was amazing.”

“So, I’ve heard.”

Corey rolled to his side, taking his dick with him. It was plastered with cum and dark bits of matter. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We're here to try new things, aren't we? That was a new thing."

"But..."

Lauren put a finger to his lips. "Enough. Now take me shopping. I need a new dress for the party."

He wanted to pursue her previous statement, but gave in, giving her a very apologetic look.

"I hope...I hope I didn't hurt you earlier. I'm sorry. That was not me."

Lauren slid off the bed and headed to the bathroom, pressing her thighs together to save the carpet from any dripping goo.

"Well, maybe it should be. You were fucking amazing."

+++++

“Wowsa,” Corey let go a low whistle as his wife posed in a heavenly one shoulder, hourglass bandage dress.

He was now glad he’d agreed to go shopping that afternoon. The red rayon and spandex blend hugged the contours of her lithe curves splendidly, ending at the knees. Festive and coquettish, but not over-the-top. He especially liked the full-length back zipper, the bright silver contrasting nicely against the blood red material.

Lauren turned this way and that, evaluating it in the full-length mirrors. “It’s perfect.”

“Yes, it is, but isn’t it a little too, um...flirty...for a work function?”

“It’s a party you old fuddy-duddy,” she called out from the dressing room, “and I’m supposed to be entertaining the client.”

“Wearing that, you may very well be the entertainment,” Corey goggled.

Lauren exited the changing room and brushed by him on the way to the sales counter, a hand grazing his crotch. “Like you would mind,” she winked.

+++++


After leaving the store, they walked hand-in-hand down the boulevard, window shopping, and drinking milkshakes purchased from an ice cream shop. Pausing at a small pocket-park nestled between some buildings, the pair sat on a bench and watched last minute Christmas shoppers scurry past. There was chatter about Corey's new job, and musings about what kind of car he should get. Lauren told him about Caroline’s upcoming visit and how much fun it would be. For just a few blissful minutes, they relished in being the old Corey and Lauren, married with children, and staunch Iowa State football fans. And yet, as tends to happen to longtime couples, the conversation eventually fell off, leaving them to fill in the gaps with their own thoughts.

“You know,” Lauren finally broke the silence, trying to prepare him for the inevitable. “I may have to get a little flirty with my customers tonight.”

Corey took a long draw on his straw and turned to her. “Sex appeal creates business opportunities. You do what you need to do help your cause."

“Whatever it takes?”

“Yes, whatever it takes.”

“Will that bother you?”

“Should it?”

“Well, you are my husband.”

“Correction,” he countered, stabbing the frozen concoction with a plastic spoon. “Tonight, I’m your personal assistant.”

Lauren scrunched up her face. “Ooh, so that means you have to do everything I say!”

“Yes, mistress,” the amused project manager chuckled.

“Good, then right now, mistress says we do more shopping!”

“More parties?”

“No silly,” she giggled, hugging his arm. “Never can tell when I'm going to be asked out on one of those dates you're just dying for me to go on. And if I do, I intend to have fun. Lots of fun.”

Corey stopped slurping the shake.

Jesus.

+++++

If that day proved anything, it was that the petite wife from Des Moines was now a bona fide, grade-A cock tease. They visited several more stores, where she would make a beeline to their slutwear department, gather arms full of clothes, and disappear into the dressing room. In keeping with her commitment to ratchet up the cuck meter, Lauren pranced out in various outfits, one by one, fixing him with that sultry look of smoky eyes beneath black bangs. She’d asked his thoughts, then promptly announce that his opinion really didn't matter since he’d never see her in any of them anyway. At one point, she sat in the poor guy’s lap wearing tight blue jeans and a nearly see-through bodice. Her hair fell tantalizingly over those small breasts that were straining to pop out the lacey top.

“She anything you like?” Lauren whispered, detecting a hardness in his crotch.

Spellbound, Corey could only nod.

“Good,” she replied, hot breath blowing on his cheek, “then so will they.”

+++++

To his surprise, Lauren wore the new jeans and translucent top right out of the boutique, having bought them without changing back. A short time later, she led Corey down a side street where some of Miami’s most eclectic shops were located. Vinyl records, gourmet coffee, and adult-themes seemed to be the block's forte. Some even specialized in sadomasochism. The native Iowan couldn’t believe they were allowed to be this close to the main drag. In Des Moines, you had to go to the other side of the tracks to find places like these.

They quickly browsed through a few of the quirkier outlets. Corey loved the looks Lauren was pulling in her new tight clothing, literally right off the rack. To his delight, she wasn’t done modelling, either. For the next hour, he got to watch her try on an additional variety of unmentionables, ranging from babydolls to teddys. She even very briefly pranced around the dressing area in a black bodystocking, nipples and bald slit just visible through the tight mesh. How far you’ve come, dear, Corey thought, from the girl that hesitated to go topless on Myles’ yacht.

The chatty salesgirl at that fine establishment noticed their matching wedding rings and offhandedly predicted an evening of amour for the couple. Lauren sneered and simply swiped her card. “Possibly, but not with him.”

Corey’s cock quivered as the clerk suppressed a snicker. She knows.

Indeed, the girl did. Working in lingerie apparel, she'd seen more than one cuckold in her sales career.

+++++

After rummaging through a few more stores, they came to a storefront with heavily tinted windows and a simple red neon sign proclaiming they were open.

Beatitudes was stenciled in small letters on the glass door. Videos, Toys, and More.

Against weak protests, Lauren pulled her husband through the entrance, giggling. Inside, a pale blue light illuminated walls of yet more sexy clothing and an assortment of electronic gadgets.

“Man, they ain’t kidding when they say and more,” Corey nudged her as they wandered the aisles, browsing the offerings. A few men doing the same would periodically look up when they heard her comment on a product, like a dildo or strap-on.

Towards the back of the store, the couple eventually came to a dimly lit corridor. Above it was a small sign.

Premium Adult Video Booths

On either side of the hallway, there appeared to be several full-length privacy doors.

“C’mon,” Lauren whispered, tugging Corey down the hallway, “I want to see.”

As they moved to enter, a thin, almost sickly-looking man in his 70’s sitting at the front counter cleared his throat.

“Eh, yeah, so there’s a twenty-dollar rental fee per booth," he said, pointing at a plaque above his head. “Up front, and that doesn’t include the dollars for the loops.”

Corey sheepishly walked to the front and gave the man a twenty, plus another to break. The clerk gave him change and held up five fingers. By the time he got back to where he’d left Lauren, she had company. It seemed the painted-on denim jeans and lingerie top had attracted somewhat bored patrons, who were now checking her out under the auspices of perusing rows of DVDs. Corey smiled. Seeing the way those pervs were eyeing his wife was worth the price of admission.

The pair crept down the corridor cackling softly until they reached booth 5. Slipping inside, Lauren was taken aback by how barren it was, almost like a prison cell. Easy clean up, she presumed. A video screen was embedded at one end, held in place by an anti-theft bracket. On the other wall, metal shelving was bolted to the steel frame, apparently as a makeshift stool. She took a seat next to Corey as he fed the automated bill taker.

The first dollar brought up a random film, one with a not so attractive women taking it from behind by an equally unappealing man. The second dollar got them an actress that was somewhat prettier. Corey felt Lauren lean into him, one hand on his arm, the other on his thigh. By the third dollar, they had all but abandoned the bad porn on screen and were making out. With his tongue down her throat, Corey plied Lauren's breasts, twirling stiff nipples through the lacey material. For several minutes they fondled each other, their breathing intensifying. The notion that the previously staid married couple were getting it on in an adult video store was getting them worked up. Especially Lauren, who reached down and massaged a growing tent. She was about to unzip his slacks when she noticed a beam of light coming from a small hole in the opposite wall. It sat about waist high and was sealed around the edges with what appeared to be a rubber grommet.

“What’s that?” she panted, trying to get at Corey’s dick. “Is…is someone watching us?”

Corey laughed. “Maybe, but I don’t think anyone would want to put their eye there.”

“What?”

“You’ve never seen a glory hole?” It was a legitimate question. Half a year ago, he knew the answer would have been an unequitable “no”. But these days?

“Wow,” Lauren grinned, having seen a few in pornos. “Not very glamourous.”

As if to underscore that statement, the couple watched as the light beam was replaced by the head of a very thick penis.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Look!” she laughed, pointing at the opening. “What do we do?”

Several more inches of the fairly meaty shaft appeared. Then more. A cupped hand could be seen just on the other side, beckoning.

“I think he wants you to come closer.”

Quietly, Lauren slid off Corey’s lap and knelt in front of the disembodied cock. It now extended at least seven inches onto their side of the wall. Slowly, she reached out and touched it, quickly pulling her hand back. It trembled and bobbed. Lauren giggled and looked back at her husband.

“Well?” was all he asked.

“Do you have a condom?” she whispered.

“Oddly enough, I didn’t think to bring a condom to go clothes shopping. But it’ll make the list next time.”

Lauren stuck out her tongue, then turned back to the protruding member. She grasped it with both hands and began jerking it off, slowly at first, then increasing with each stroke. The skin was brownish in color, and she tried to remember if there had been a Latino or Indian in the store. Lauren studied the cock with great interest, spitting onto it every so often to reduce friction. She could hear the guy on the other side breathing heavily. And he wasn’t the only one.

Back on the metal shelf, Corey had fished out his own dick and was matching the rhythm of his wife’s hand on mystery man’s cock. The faster her hand went, so did his.

Before long, the couple heard the stranger grunt loudly. Lauren's fingers felt the blue veins beneath them pulsate, followed by apparent gasping of the slit in the circumcised glans. It was not gasping. Suddenly, it began spitting out several ropes of thick milky cum into the air, arcing across the room. The first couple blasts nearly hit Corey, with less forceful ones landing on the floor. Lauren’s jeans were a casualty, as was her top.

“OH SHIT!” Corey cried as the mystical cock from the other booth quickly disappeared back into the hole. Lauren knew that wail well and dashed to him, lowering her lips over his shaft in the nick of time. Their earlier lovemaking had taken most of what the 61-year-old had, but what was left she took like a champ. Rising from her knees, she opened her mouth and showed him her slimy prize, before allowing it to slither down her throat.

Jesus, Joseph, and Mary.

"Do you have any more change?" Lauren asked innocently.

+++++

The temporarily reunited couple arrived at the opulent Jamais Vu hotel at half-past five and checked into one of Rekrap Industry's comp’d rooms. Corey dutifully played the part of personal assistant, using their last name to address her, and lots of “yes ma’ams”. Dressed in a sports coat, button down shirt, and nice slacks, he looked the part too, toting her overnight to the elevator, a small tablet she used as a PDA in his hand.

The one-bedroom unit was nicely appointed, with a queen bed and refrigerator. Lauren quickly realized that it just happened to be adjacent to the event's reception suite that her CEO, Stephan Jones, had rented for their clients. She had to hand it to Jones. He was a prick, but he was always thinking ahead.

While his wife took a shower, Corey checked his camera. He had brought it along, quite coincidently, hoping to capture some sea birds along the beaches. Now, here he was, preparing to take self-serving photographs for a company he wasn’t even employed by.

Newsletter, my ass, he thought, checking the memory card. Ever since Lauren had explained what may be required to advance some of her business opportunities, Corey had been extremely tense. ”I may have to get a little flirty, she had warned. “Do whatever it takes” had been his reply. Did he really mean that?

As she exited the bathroom and began to apply a sweet-smelling lotion to her skin, Corey’s mind recalled watching her get ready for her date with Zane. His anxiety had been off the charts then too, but unlike then, tonight he’d actually get see Lauren working her charms in person. It didn’t matter whether there was really any flirting or not, just the potential knotted his stomach. Such is living life in the kink.

For now, all he could do was sit on the bed and admire her naked and toned 48-year-old body. It was something she worked hard for the gym. Something he had started to take to heart. Her still wet, straight jet-black hair fell loosely about her shoulders, some of it covering her tomato-sized breasts, the rest extending down to just past her shoulder blades. Small beads of water dripped from the ends and trickled down her back and belly, drawing attention to well-defined abdominal muscles. Below those taut abs were slightly rounded hips, giving way to a hairless cleft that any man would pine for. Corey couldn’t have been prouder. She was the definition of a MILF. And unlike most, men didn't just want to fuck his MILF, they actually were.

Lauren felt his eyes as she finished drying her hair and wrapped a red strapless bra around her breasts.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re beautiful.”

She turned her nose up in mock distain. “Why, thank you, but my assistant shouldn’t be saying such things.”

“Your assistant shouldn’t be watching you get dressed.”

“So, you like watching me get ready?” Lauren smiled, pulling a pair of red frilly panties and matching garters out of her overnight. “Even if it’s to impress other men?”

“You know I do.”

She smiled, pleased by his response. Walking over to the bed, the raven-haired beauty stood before him, her bald pussy mere inches from his face. “You are such a perv.”

Corey pulled her close and put a cheek against his wife’s tight stomach. He inhaled deeply, smelling her freshness, wondering just how long it would stay that way. Sadly, she pushed him away and stepped into the lacy garter belt, pulling it along her legs and into place above her hips.

“It’s nice to see you wearing sexy things for me,” he commented, admiring the straps dangling down her thighs.

Sitting in a chair next to the bed, Lauren held out a pair of black thigh-high stockings and lifted a leg. “They’re not for you, Twisty,” she smirked, carefully watching his reaction. “Here, help me with these.”

Kneeling in front of her, he slid the opening of one over her foot, gently shimmying it up her calf. He repeated the same for the other leg. As he smoothed them out under her watchful gaze, he stared at her still bare slit and a hint of pink within.

“Focus,” Lauren reprimanded him, tapping the top of his head. Standing up, she put one foot on the chair. “Fasten,” she commanded, pointing at the garters.

Corey did as he was asked, attaching the suspenders’ end-clasps to each stocking, first in the front, then the back. Hand still on his head, she lingered for just a moment, allowing him to gaze at her pussy and smell her sex.

“Thank you,” Lauren finally broke the awkward silence, giggling inwardly. The tent in his trousers told her all she needed to know.

After pulling the panties over the garters, she stepped into the little red number purchased earlier in the day. Adjusting the one and only shoulder strap that held up the bodice, she turned her back to her husband, offering him the full-length zipper. “A little help, please.”

Corey inserted the pin into the bottom stop and carefully guided the slider up and over her buttocks, then along her delicate spine to the back of the neck. As the teeth closed, it pulled the dress tight, conforming to every curve.

“Wow,” the awestruck project manager exclaimed, stepping back.

“Looks nice, huh?” she asked, disappearing into the bathroom to finish her makeup, already knowing the answer. “Very Christmassy.”

Twenty minutes later Lauren reemerged, her hair now wrapped in a classy bun atop her head, a couple wisps framing her picturesque face. Corey was blown away. She looked fabulous. Business Sexy was a term that came to mind, along with others that he chose not to articulate. True to its name, the dress fit like a bandage, wrapping her body like scarlet gauze, from just above the knee to just above those bite-sized breasts. Unlike last night, her makeup was light and airy, presenting an overall package that was professional, but with heat.

Lauren picked up her wedding ring and slid it over her finger.

“You sure you want to wear that?” Corey asked, “considering you are trying to create, um, business opportunities?”

She nodded and looked deeply into his lonely eyes.

“I’m proud to be married to you. Yesterday, today…tomorrow. In that perverse little brain of yours," she whispered, taking a hand in hers, "you may want to share this." Lauren touched their intertwined fingers to the thin dress material just below her waist. “But," she added, raising them to her heart, “no one will ever share this.”

The long-married couple stared at each other for a long time, until an alarm on Corey’s phone broke their tacit proclamation of love.

It was time for a party.

“Safe word?” he asked, gulping.

Lauren picked up her clutch and headed towards the door.

“What makes you think I need one?”

+++++

The Grand Ballroom was certainly that, replete with Crystal chandeliers, colorful carpet and ornate statues. The hotel’s brochure said it held 50 guests, but it could have easily held twice that many. Upon arrival, Lauren and Corey manned the reception desk for a bit, checking in guests from The Detrevrep Consortium and Polymer Thermoset, issuing name badges and directing new arrivals to the bar. In short order, CEO Stephan Jones saw to it that Rekrap’s best asset of the evening was freed up to make the rounds. He watched with amusement as Lauren moved from pod to pod, introducing she and her assistant “Carson”.

Corey immersed himself in the role, taking photos of his "boss" with client execs and their wives. Eventually they came to the president and owners of the two companies, Angel Tagliatelle and Stretch Madison. Both were perennial bachelors and were particularly jovial that night. Tagliatelle had brought a date, a young blonde woman who giggled too much and appeared very trophy-like. Madison, on the other hand, was alone, and although he tried to hide it, was obviously smitten when he turned around and saw the pretty office manager in the tight red dress. The wealthy Detrevrep owner extended a hand and introduced himself.

Lauren noticed how svelte and trim both businessmen were, no doubt products of some overpriced gym. Not hunks by any means, but sexy enough. She wondered, while shaking Stretch’s hand, exactly how he got his nickname. Perhaps she'd find out. Off to the side, she noticed her boss, CEO Stephan Jones, looking in their direction and nodding.

So these are the guys he wants me to make eyes with? Hmmm. Okay, certainly could be worse.

Unaware of his wife's collusion with her boss, Corey encouraged Lauren and Madison to huddle for a couple photos. Lauren smiled politely as the polished tycoon pulled her into his large frame. Next came a photo op with Tagliatelle, who posed in his Armani suit, pearly whites flashing. He was smaller than his counterpart, but handsome, nonetheless. Both were consummate gentlemen, and thanked Rekrap for hosting a special way for their employees to cap off the holiday week.

Moving on, Lauren continued to press palms with other clients and their guests, while Corey snapped loads of pictures. At one point, a logistics manager at one of the companies expressed a desire to have a conversation with her around supply chain. "Carson" didn't miss a beat, simply nodding with a straight face and making notes in the PDA.

Oh, he's good, she thought. Maybe I should make him take a memo.

Finally, they had hit all the tables and found their place settings alongside other Rekrap employees. After a nice sit-down dinner, Jones took the podium and made a toast, ending it with wishes for long, profitable relationships. This was followed by dancing, music provided by a cover band that played hits from the 70s, 80s, and 90s. Drinks flowed and the lines at the bar were deep. At Lauren’s suggestion, Corey mingled, taking photos for the newsletter, while she hung back, helping where needed. As the party wore on, the need for official chaperones diminished. At that point, it was just dancing and drinking. Predictably, Lauren was tugged to the dance floor by several women she knew from client offices. All were feeling their liquor and it showed as they shifted from one genre of music to another with ease.

Corey snapped a few pictures of his wife and her friends before noticing something both disturbing and exciting through the viewfinder. He wasn’t the only one noticing their dance moves. Several groups of single men, chemical engineers no doubt, had gathered to the side and were watching the women. Not only watching, but plotting. It was no surprise when a few fanned out and began introducing themselves. Lauren snuck looks at Corey as she accepted several invitations to dance, smirking in that special way she had these days. There was some twirling and shoulder touching, but everything else was above board. Nothing that any husband could complain about, and certainly not a personal assistant. Through it all, as the younger bucks took their shot, Stretch Madison held court at the Detrevrep table, his most loyal employees fawning over him. He generally enjoyed the attention, but tonight he was more interested in the woman who’d greeted him earlier in the tight red dress. Amazingly beautiful, he thought while watching her moves on the dance floor. No youngster...but oh so alluring.

When the band took a break. Corey scurried off to the bar to place an order – like any good assistant would – knowing the boss would be thirsty. As he waited in line, a not unfamiliar voice came from behind, a smell of spearmint preceding it.

“You’re Lauren Millers’ PA, right?”

Corey turned and smiled. Stretch Madison himself.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Enjoying the party?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Your boss, she’s something else.”

“That she is.”

Madison offered Corey a mint. “She’s got a ring. Is that just for show? Can’t tell these days, some women wear them to ward off unwanted attention.”

He’s fishing, the project manager grinned as he took the white candy.

“It’s not for show.”

“Too bad.”

The men looked over at a group of employees where Lauren was engrossed in conversation. Corey caught his wife’s eye when she happened to glance their way. They widened upon seeing who he was talking with. Carefully crafting his next steps, the supportive husband continued.

“Um…, so, you own the Consortium, huh?”

“That’s right,” Stretch replied, his eyes not leaving Lauren.

The line moved forward, and Corey placed his drink order.

“Rumor is you’re thinking of leaving Rekrap, taking your business elsewhere.”

Madison tore his gaze from Lauren and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “And how is that your concern?”

“Well, I for one like my job. So naturally, the more customers we have, the more secure it is."

Corey nodded towards his wife. "I also know of one pretty office manager that would probably be very appreciative if you signed a new contract.”

The chemical mogul studied the personal assistant’s face, letting what he was suggesting sink in.

“Is that a fact? I thought she was married.”

Corey looked left, then right, like he had a big secret to share. Leaning in close, he nodded in Lauren’s direction. “Married, but available.”

“And how do you know this?”

“Simple. Does your secretary ever make dinner reservations for you and a date? Have you ever asked her to send flowers afterward? Has she ever been in the room when you’re finishing up a private conversation?”

Stretch’s features relaxed, understanding the gist. Of course, assistants know everything. He looked back to where the cute Rekrap executive had been, but she was no longer there.

“So exactly how long have you been working for…”

“What's it take for a girl to get a drink around here, boys?” Lauren piped up, suddenly appearing alongside the chatty men.

Corey turned and took two Long Island Teas from the bartender.

“It appears your assistant has you covered, Ms. Miller,” Stretch commented.

“Please, call me Lauren. And yes, he does have my back.”

“Here ya go,” the incognito husband replied, handing both drinks to the businessman. “Well, Mr. Madison, see you around. And remember what I said.”

“Carson” exited the line with a wave, looking over his shoulder just in time to see the middle-aged entrepreneur hand his wife the drink.

+++++

Lauren politely accepted the cocktail and clinked rims with Stretch Madison’s glass. They both took a sip in silence.

"What was that about?" she asked of the mysterious parting words.

“Your PA seems to think Detrevrep isn’t going to renew our contract. You know, Ms. Mil…Lauren, loose lips can sink ships.”

Lauren giggled. “Lips can do a lot of things, Mr. Madison,” she winked, hooking an arm through his. “But since we’re on the topic, would you care to discuss what it would take to retain your business?”

The enthralled industrialist smiled. “I have some ideas,” he said, holding his drink in the air, “and the name’s Stretch. Perhaps we can review the terms later?”

Lauren returned the smile and led him back to the party. “Perhaps. And, for the record, my lips have never once sunk a sink.”

Stretch Madison’s grin got even bigger. “Oh, I wouldn’t bet against that.”

+++++

The band played a strong second set and had the crowd on their feet. Corey continued to circle the perimeter of the hall but abandoned all pretense of taking pictures. Instead, he focused on his wife and her newfound friend. The pair took to dancing like ducks to water. While the Iowan native had two left feet, Stretch was a dynamo, constantly showing his prowess. Lauren seemed delighted to have such a great partner as he twirled her about, easily transitioning from fast to slow songs. Not to be outdone, Angel Tagliatelle would occasionally cut in, much to the chagrin of his trophy date. Being overshadowed by business was one thing, but to be upstaged by a woman who had nearly 20 years on her was a hard pill to swallow.

For the most part, the dancing remained completely safe-for-work, nothing inappropriate, just a lot incidental touching. When Angel tapped in as Lauren’s partner again, Corey took the opportunity to run to the restroom, believing his “boss” would be relatively safe on the dance floor with the renowned capitalist. Upon returning, however, he found that neither Angel nor his wife were on the dance floor. In fact, they weren’t in the room at all.

Had she gone to the restroom? Possibly. Had Tagliatelle rejoined his date? No, Barbie was sitting by herself at Thermoset table, fuming.

Then where the hell is Lauren?

+++++

The petite office manager led Angel down a hallway to a row of identical breakout rooms, trying doors as they went. Finding one open, she pushed the Florida magnate towards the darkness and into a meeting chair, allowing the door behind them to click shut. Seconds later, Lauren was down on her knees and the wealthy business owner’s cock was dangling through the fly of his tailored suit pants.

After rolling on a condom, she slurped, sucked and stroked his shaft with such enthusiasm that it was clear she wasn’t just doing this out of duty, it was out of pure joy. Completely hard now, Tagliatelle leaned back in the chair and allowed her face to fuck him, using her mouth as cunt with a tongue. Wet, smacking, and gurgling sounds echoed through the dim and empty room.

“That’s it baby, suck my dick. Jesus, that feels good.”

“Mmmmphhfffff.”

The pace at which Lauren attached his cock was truly amazing, and in his euphoria, Angel accidently grabbed the meticulously bunned hair atop her head, loosening it considerably. With each passing thrust, a bit more of her tresses came loose, strands of it falling around her ears and cheeks. Eventually the hair stick could not withstand the groping, and the silky black mane fell, cascading around her shoulders and back.

Recalling what the other men had so seemed to love, she alternated between stroking his dick and swallowing it whole. On one particular deep dive, she gagged so much she had to come up for air, spittle oozing from the corners of her mouth. That didn’t stop her though, going right back to it, sweeping her tongue around his tool, then engulfing it again with her mouth.

Fearing being caught by a bellman taking a shortcut through the empty meeting room, Lauren decided to bring it home. Peering up from behind those sexy bangs at the businessman looking down at her, she wrapped a fist around his shaft and began pumping it with purpose.

"You wanna to cum?"

Angel moaned.

"Will you be buying from us next year?"

"Hmmm."

Lauren spit on his dick.

"I didn't get that."

"Need...to...review...terms," Angel panted.

She slowed the pace, nearly stopping.

"Not good enough."

With one swift motion, Lauren gave him another taste of her skill, slurping the stiff rod back into her mouth, sucking a few times, then letting it plop out.

"Oh god!" he yawed.

"Well?"

The strokes picked up.

"Yeah, alright, yes, we'll do business."

Lauren grinned as she continued to pump his twitching member, her lips just in front of its purple head.

"Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Angel professed, “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Then do it, baby, give me your love."

"Unnnnnnnnng!" he squawked, lost in the moment.

Using puffs of breath to blow the bangs from her eyes, she looked deeply into her client’s eyes.

“C'mon Angel, paint me. Seal the deal.”

"OH FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM!”

Seconds later, Rekraps' second biggest revenue generator erupted in Lauren's mouth, unloading a load undoubtedly earmarked for his trophy date. The pressure of the first ejaculation caught Lauren off guard, causing her pull back, leaving the next few spurts to fly over a shoulder and spray the top of highly polished conference table. Tagliatelle grunted several times, then fell back in the chair, catching his breath. Lauren stood slowly, the exhilaration of blowing a guy in the middle of a dark meeting room igniting her own libido.

"You'll remember this in February, right?" she asked, referring to the contract renewal date while removing the hair stick, and fluffed out her hair. The high-bun look was hopelessly lost for the night.

Angel coughed breathlessly as he stuffed his cock back in his pants. “Consider it done."

Lauren smiled, the empty rubber packet fluttering to the meeting room floor. Her evening as a corporate whore had begun.

+++++

Corey had just asked a woman to check the ladies’ room when he saw his Angel reenter the ballroom from one entrance, his wife through another. Lauren’s hair, no longer balled atop her head, spilled over her shoulders in a hot mess. She was smacking her lips as she approached the Rekrap table.

“You okay?” Corey asked, bursting with curiosity on her whereabouts.

“Just ducky,” Lauren replied playfully, the alcohol showing.

"Where were you?"

“Taking care of business.”

Reapplying lipstick, the couple stood and stared at each other as her eyes confirmed exactly what he was thinking. Mercifully, Stretch Madison appeared and broke their silence.

“Uh, hi Lauren. May I have a word with you?”

Guiding the office manager out of earshot, Stretch touched her elbow.

“So, would you like to go review terms of the new contract, um, upstairs?”

Lauren fixed him with a sultry gaze. “I think I'd like that.”

Corey saw a wide smile splash across Stretch’s face. Whatever she’d said sure had made the businessman happy. The project manager was pretending to look elsewhere when the pair returned.

“Carson,” his wife addressed him in her most professional tone, “thank you for a lovely evening." Turning her nose up in a patronizing manner, her eyes narrowed to slits. "I won’t be needing your services any more tonight. I’ll call you in the morning.”

Picking up her clutch, Lauren turned back to Stretch and looped her arm through his. Corey stood numbly as they left the ballroom, Madison’s hand dropping to her ass as they went through the double doors. The music and revelry faded to the background, the sweet pleasantness of her perfume lingering.

And just like that, she was off with another man.

+++++

Lauren was surprised to see the reception suite empty. Stretch explained he had decided that an afterparty would just distract from their negotiations. A waste of Rekrap’s money to be sure, but if an agreement to extend the companies relationship for yet another year could be reached, it would be well spent.

While Madison made drinks, Lauren excused herself to pee. After washing her hands, she discovered the bathroom served both the reception area and an adjacent bedroom. Cautiously, she entered the latter and tiptoed to a door that looked like a connector to the hotel room next door. Figuring this to be hers, the brave brunette threw back the latch and pulled it ajar, the soft click of the lock echoing like a gunshot in the quiet and empty bedroom. She looked towards the door and the rest of suite. Stretch was making himself comfortable on a sofa. Hurriedly, she scampered back into the bathroom and flushed the toilet.

At least Corey could get to her if she needed help.

Not that she would be needing any.

+++++

The ditched husband grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the now deserted ballroom’s bar and headed up to the 12th floor. Safely inside Lauren's room, he removed his sports coat and put away the camera. Using a glass from the mini-bar, Corey poured a few shots in quick succession and sat on the bed in silence, thinking about what might be happening next door. He was prodded from deep thought by an outburst of laughter.

Lauren? Had that come from the hallway or the suite?

Silence now.

Lightheaded, he removed his dress shoes and laid on the bed, still clothed.

She’s right. What have our lives become?

He felt something odd and lifted his head from the pillow. It wasn’t so much a sound as it was a change in air pressure.

Click.

Rising from the bed, Corey cocked his head, listening. Knocking back another shot, he walked to the connecting door and put his ear to it. More laughter, only this time accompanied by talking. And there was a definite draft.

The other door was ajar.

Curious, he poked it until it swung aside. It was dark, but clearly led to a bedroom, separated from the rest of the suite by a door to the main area and one to the bathroom. It appeared undisturbed, nor was there any clothing about. Tossing back another shot, he stepped through the doorway.

+++++

Stretch had an arm draped across the nape of Lauren's neck and was nuzzling her ear.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes, fine.”

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

She smiled. “No, why?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you’re a married woman sitting on a sofa with your single, good-looking client’s arm around you?”

“Modest much?”

The businessman laughed. “I didn’t get to where I’m at today being modest.”

“And I didn’t get to where I’m at without taking risks.”

“Good, then you won’t mind if I do this.”

Taking her chin in his hands, he leaned over and kissed the Rekrap executive. She tilted her head so their lips could meet full-on. Both settled back into the cushions, lips connecting. Parting her mouth slightly, she accepted his tongue.

+++++

With another dose of liquid courage, Corey crept through the bedroom towards the door that opened to reception area of the suite. Carefully, he hugged the doorjamb and hid in the shadows. His eyeball jetted back and forth, adjusting to the light, looking for his wife. Eventually he caught sight of her shiny jet-black hair cascading over the the side of a couch, head back…and kissing Stretch Madison.

It was no friendly peck, either. The synthetic materials producer had one hand on a shoulder, the other on the bodice of her dress, and his tongue down her throat. She was eagerly reciprocating, kissing him back with passion. After a few minutes, they came up for air and Stretch went to make more drinks.

Get a little flirty, my ass, Corey thought. But isn't this exactly what he'd hoped for?

+++++

Lauren lifted her glass and made a toast.

“To budding relationships, long may they last.”

Madison took a drink, unable to take his eyes off the raven-haired beauty. She had his attention and knew it.

“Now, about that contract,” Lauren smirked, stopping the progress of Stretch’s hand up her stocking. “What can Rekrap do to earn your business for another couple years?”

She let his hands resume their climb, allowing a good look at the top of her thigh-highs.

Stretch chuckled, watching the hem of her dress rise. He took a small glass vial and tiny metal spoon from his suitcoat.

“Before we talk shop, you up for a little bump?”

With practiced skill, he dipped the spoon into the container and pulled out a nice round mound. Lauren simply stared. It had been years, decades really, since she and Corey had dabbled with coke when it was all the rage. At first she shook her head, then seeing the man’s expectant look, reluctantly leaned over and sniffed the fine granules up her nose. The rush was instantaneous, forcing her eyes shut. As the initial surge waned, she opened them to a world of vivid color. Everything was now intense and sharp, like a photo that had been over-processed.

“Oh, wow.”

Her client laughed. “Been a while, has it?”

“Years.”

“Have another,” Stretch offered, sliding it under her nose.

The drug slapped her senses again, sending Lauren’s head reeling. While she enjoyed the euphoria, the businessman took the opportunity to move his hand higher on her thigh.

Be careful, babe, Corey thought. Neither were strangers to recreational drugs, but these were unpredictable times, and the world just wasn’t the same place.

“Now where were we?” Stretch pondered, his hand caressing her arm. “Contract renewal, right?”

“Yes, terms of engagement,” Lauren replied, dabbing the white remnants from her nose.

“Before we talk terms, I think we need to talk incentives first. Would you agree?" He lightly snapped one of the garter suspenders. “Exactly what motivation is Rekrap offering?”

Lauren looked down at the hand inching up between her legs. Although quite stoned, she knew three things were crystal clear. First, the two executives were dangerously close to flaunting Florida quid pro quo laws. Second, the starting figure for Jose Rodriquez’s job was incentive enough. And third - and possibly most important - at that moment she was very, very horny.

+++++

Corey’s jaw dropped as he watched Lauren stand and put her hands on her hips. It got wider when she stepped up on the coffee table and gazed down on her prey. Pairing her phone with the sound system, she chose a slow-burn blues number and began swaying to its soulful beat. Stretch beamed up at her as her fingers lightly traced the sides of her dress, up and down, accenting every curve. As the music intensified, so did the undulating, her hands weaving a pattern in the air from above her head to the small of her back.

Goddamn, she looks beautiful, Corey trembled, mesmerized at the sight of his wife dancing for another man.

He'd give anything to be Stretch Madison right then.

+++++

Lauren continued to dance atop the table, her eyes closed, neck rotating as if in a dream state. To say her senses were elevated and energized would have been an understatement. Colors were vibrant and she felt one with the music, her skin literally breathing from every pore. It didn’t take long until the office manager’s movements became exaggerated, fueled not only by the coke but by burgeoning arousal. It drove her every move. Recalling Autumn’s routine, she danced not only to entice, but to kill, and at times captured her friend’s serpentine-like moves perfectly. Lauren began to turn in circles, lifting the hem of her dress to tease. With each turn, she’d raise it a little higher, up to and passed the strapped stockings, eventually giving Stretch a peek at the frilly red panties and hint of succulent muff beneath. When he began subconsciously rubbing himself, she knew she had him exactly where she wanted.

“So,” Lauren purred, striking a sexy pose, “is this incentive enough? Do we have a deal?”

Madison had been reduced to a melting pot of male hormones. He would have agreed to pretty much anything at that point and simply nodded.

“Good. I’m really looking forward to this.”

Hands clasp above her head, her hips swiveled erotically, rolling to the music, allowing her client a good old fashion eye-fuck. Just when he looked like he was going to lose control, Lauren turned and reached behind her. Slowly and methodically, she began lowering the dress’ full-length silver zipper.

Stretch rubbed his trousers. “I thought you were married,” he grinned, pointing to her ring.

Lauren snickered loud enough for anyone else that just happened to be listening.

“Forget about him. The poor bastard couldn't make a nun cum.”

+++++

Corey’s mouth hadn’t shut since she’d begun taking her clothes off, and her latest dagger didn't do anything to help it close. He moaned at the emotions it sent coursing through his veins, bringing both shame and pleasure, the hallmark of a cuckold who enjoyed…no...craved the thought of his wife being taken by another.

As Lauren’s zipper lowered, so did his. Seconds later, Corey's growing erection was in his hands, a place it seemed very much at home these days.

Fap, fap, fap.

+++++

Stretch watched with lust as Lauren removed the dress, the zipper’s teeth uncoupling at an agonizingly slow rate. Her tanned back was the first thing the saw, followed by smooth shoulder blades and the thin braid of the red strapless bra. The further it went, the more her naked spine provided a roadmap to her ass and beyond. Finally, she allowed it to drop to the table, and promptly kicked it away.

Both men groaned again, Stretch completely unaware of Corey watching from the other room. Lauren posed, clad only in the red strapless bra, thigh-highs, and matching panties. Stepping carefully off the table, she quickly dispatched the panties and tossed them next to the dress. Her client’s gaze went straight to her freshly shaved slit which was noticeably moist. Reaching out, he inserted a finger into the recess of her sex.

It was finally her turn.

+++++

The voyeur husband watched intently as Stretch’s fingers probed Lauren's wetness. Corey suppressed a gasp when his wife dropped to her knees and began unbuckling the millionaire’s pants. His teeth clenched as she peeled apart yet another condom package and unfurled it over the eager cock.

Fap, fap, fap.

“That’s it baby, suck my dick,” Madison encouraged the office manager. “Jesus, that feels good.”

“Mmmmphhfffffffff.”

Lauren had to gasp whenever she came up to breathe. He wasn’t the biggest she’d had in her brief time in Miami, but definitely bigger than Corey.

Peering up from behind those bangs, she wrapped two fists around the quivering shaft and pumped furiously. Stretch’s head was rolling around on his neck. When she thought he was close, Lauren stopped on a dime, and stood.

“Wha…oh c’mon now!” the king of chemicals protested. But not for long.

“Take me to bed,” she implored, looking in the direction she though Corey would be. “Fuck me like my husband can’t.”

Corey’s eyes widened when the pair began walking towards the doorway he was in. Quickly morphing from masturbator to runner, he fled to the adjoining doors, a semi-erect dick dangling from wrinkled trousers as he ran. The Iowa State Cyclones fan crossed the threshold just seconds before he heard them entering the bedroom. In his haste, he allowed the door to close, and as it did, there was the unmistakable clicking of the latch.

Shit.

He’d just locked himself out.

+++++

Lauren wasted no time, laying on the bed and spreading her legs. Hands wrapped around the dark stockings, she held her thighs apart, revealing the moist pinkness between them. That was all the invitation Stretch needed, who dropped his pants and pulled a very sweaty dress shirt over his head. Climbing between her legs, he slipped two fingers into her very wet pussy and flipped her bean in a most precise, pleasurable way.

“Just like that,” she moaned. “Now lick me.”

Tossing slim legs over his shoulders, Madison gripped those divine thighs tight, taking care not to rip the garter from the hosiery. With great expertise, he sucked her bald slit, then pushed a wandering tongue into her dripping hole, the sweet and tangy juices striking his taste buds as one gratifying taste sensation. Within minutes his face was a shiny, sticky mess, and Lauren was going nuts.

+++++

Corey was on his hands and knees, cheek pressed to the door, trying to hear something.

Anything.

He found that placing his ear along the doorsill allowed him to catch snippets from the other side.

“Ohhhhhh, hmmmm, ohhhhhhhh!”

“Such a beautiful cunt!”

“Oh shit! Eat that married pussy, baby!”

More wet sounds and the slightest hint at bedsprings creaking as bodies shifted.

The very fuckable courtesan apparently hadn’t forgotten her husband was likely lurking nearby either.

“That’s it, Stretch. Dig, dig for the treasure. OH GOD it’s right there! There! THERE! Get it, get it! You’re SO MUCH better than my husband!”

Goddamn, Lauren, you’re such a slut.

Fap, fap, fap.

Moans, groans, and a creaking bed were like a wall of sound for the next few minutes. Corey was laying on this back, body contorted, one cheek to the floor and an ear to the sill, desperately trying to hear what was taking place. The licking and smacking continued, as an image of the rich businessman snacking between his wife’s legs drove his hand to zealous masturbation.

+++++

Lauren squirmed under Madison’s expert tongue as it darted in and out, snake-like, licking the soft nub that was now fully extended from its fleshy hood. The coke had sensitized her entire body, the net result which was now flooding Stretch’s face with all the juices he could handle. She could feel a release building.

“Yes…yes…yes.”

“Damn, doll, you’re a fuckin’ waterfall.”

“Pleeeesseee don’t stop! I’m almost there!”

"Mmmmmm, tasty."

“Oh god…oh god…oh god,” she whimpered repeatedly as Stretch thrust his tongue deep, slathering the sides of her pussy, a thumb worked her clit madly. Minutes later, Lauren’s hips began to writhe uncontrollably and the dam broke, flooding his face with copious amounts of clear, syrupy liquid.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh yesssssssss!” she cried, hands clutching his hair. “I’m cumming….I’M CUMMING.”

+++++

That’s no acting, Corey grimaced, almost creaming himself.

Fap, fap, fap.

More rustling noises as Lauren’s cries diminished.

“Enough of this shit, I need to fuck that cunt!”

There was a snapping sound.

What was that?

“Stretch, no!”

“Sorry, babe, I gotta feel it in you.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“It is now.”

“But…OH FUUUCCCCKKKK!”

“Shit yeah, I thought you'd like that.”

“Ohhhhhhhh, yesssssssss, put it in!”

+++++

Lauren lay splayed open, heels in the air, as her client’s cock slid into her waiting pussy au natural. She needed to be fucked so bad that she was way past reason. Simply put, she didn’t care if there was protection or not.

“OH GOD, baby, please fuck me. Fuck me hard. Tonight, I’m yours.”

The naked businessman leaned and kissed her, the tips of their tongues meeting as he drove deep into her sopping wet hole. Their hips moved to meet.

“Give me that big, fat dick!”

The two moaned, settling into a one rhythm as they began to build to the inevitable.

"Oh, yes, give it to me."

+++++

The sound of the headboard knocking into the wall was clear through the space between the floor and bottom of the adjoining door.

Corey jacked off at a fevered pitch as he heard his wife and her lover moaning incessantly.

“Take it, take it all,” Stretch uttered as he slammed into the Rekrap executive.

“Oh, oh, oh,” Lauren brayed repeatedly, lost in the pleasure.

“Damn, girl,” Madison panted, “doesn’t that husband of yours ever light you up?”

“Nooo…can’t…fuck me…like this…anymore! PLEASE GOD FUCK ME like he should be!”

The groans and squeaking bedsprings were testament to the crescendo that was near.

“Ahhhhhh…eeeeeeeeeeeeeoooooooohhhhhh”

Fap, fap, fap.

+++++

“Jesus, you’re hot!” Stretch barked as Lauren grabbed his ass, drawing him in as far as he would go.

“Nasty…little…bitch…aren’t…you?”

“You have no idea.”

“Jones’ whore.”

Lauren gasped. "Yes I am. And how much do you like fucking Jones’ whore?”

“About 20.5 mil over two years, apparently.”

They both slowed down to laugh a bit before Stretch slammed back into her cunt at full speed.

“Then I'm gonna get my money's worth. Take it slut!”

“Ohhhhhh, yes give…it…to…me!”

+++++

Corey was on his knees, one hand on the door, the other fisting his dick. His emotions were off-the-chain, the notion of his wife of 28 years giving herself to a handsome business partner, all in the name of a contract, was so debased that it was insanely pleasurable.

“Don’t stop…oh god, please don’t stop. Harder!”

“AHHHHHHHH YESSSSSSS!”.

Squeak, squeak, squeak.

Stretch was about to nut.

Fap, fap, fap.

“Shit, shit, SHIT!”

The bedsprings slowed. There was a long pause, then both lovers began to howl, their orgasms reaching under the door and gripping Corey’s cock like a vice. The images of Stretch Madison dumping his seed into her unprotected pussy scorched the voyeur husband’s brain, nearly spilling his own on the carpet beneath trembling knees. But he held off. He had to.

Then there was nothing. No moaning, no squeaking. Nothing. Only a whisper now and again.

Well, that’s that, Corey nodded, stumbling to the queen bed. It’s over. She did what she came to do.

”I may have to get a little flirty” echoed in his ears just before everything went black.

Indeed.

+++++

The room was cool and dark when Corey awoke to Lauren crawling on top of him, naked and smelling of sex. Without a word, she ripped off his boxers and straddled his hips. Seconds later the flaccid cock he had been flogging earlier was in her hand, rubbing against bare legs. Regaining consciousness, he could tell something was different about the way she felt. Her skin was oily; both slick and sticky at once.

Lauren positioned herself over her husband and began lowering her cum filled pussy over his. As the white slop was displaced by Corey’s growing erection, it squirted out the sides and pooled around his pubes. Initially revulsed, the warmth of her cunt and her lover's tepid semen seemed to swaddle his cock, lubricating her passage in a way that felt like an oasis. This was sloppy seconds.

“Lauren…oh god...”

“Shhhh,” she hushed him, squatting fully on his hard six inches.

“Do you feel him? Do you feel the man who just used your slut wife to deposit his seed? That’s his love in me, babe, his spunk.”

"Oh no."

Corey’s cock twitched and lurched inside her. His eyes rolled back in his head, trying to process what he was feeling.

Lauren remained expressionless and began to ride her husband, moving her trick hips up and down his. With each pass, a bit more of the creamy mess was forced from her well-fucked hole, ejected with a splat.

“He fucked me good. Soooo good. Can you feel his cum coating your dick, tickling it? He got dibbs, Twisty. You're finishing second.”

"Ahhhhhh, nnnnggg."

“Oh yes! Fuck it right outta me,” Lauren begged, “bath in his cum, cuck!"

Grabbing her waist so hard it made her yelp, Corey drove his dick up into the boiling, gushing cunt. It had never felt so hot, so squishy, so…nasty. He could see the thick white paste being churned into butter with each impalement as she screamed at the ceiling. Corey thrashed underneath her. It was so vile but so perversely erotic.

“So much in me,” Lauren moaned as Stretch's jizz continued to froth, “he shot it deep!”

The couples’ breathing got heavier, their gyrations animated. They fucked like animals amid wet and sloppy sounds. As it were, Lauren’s used and stretched cunt allowed Corey to last a few more minutes, but the silky smoothness of the white glaze - and the thought of its origin - was just too much for the old boy.

"FUCK!" he cried, his cock pumping another small load into the already packed swimming pool that his wife's pussy had become.

Lauren waited until the flow from Corey's penis stopped, then rolled off onto the mattress, the soupy discharge from the two men creating quite a wet spot. The couple was spent, a long day now behind them. As their eyes grew heavy and sleep began to take over, the alarm clock next to a Gideon's Bible on the nightstand blinked its silent time. Half-past two.

It was officially Christmas Eve.

+++++

The snow fell silently outside the small condo on the west side of Colorado Springs, a town that was no stranger to white Christmases. Inside, the waif-like figure of the youngest Miller tossed and turned in her bed, a half-smoked joint in a nearby ashtray. Like her parents some two thousand miles away, she'd had a long, trying day. Earlier that morning, the 27-year-old's boyfriend had asked her for some "space", which, of course, translated into "I want to date others." The pair had been together for nearly a year and the request literally came out of nowhere.

After a day of laying in bed, smoking away the initial tears, Caroline had passed out, succumbing to weed induced incongruent and surreal visions. Those that analyze such things would call it illusory dreaming, where effigies and short-circuiting memories create bizarre and sometimes erotic delusions. Indeed, at the moment, the high school counselor was desperately trying to climb stairs to the second floor of her childhood home. Although her legs were moving, she didn't seem to gain any traction, nor get any closer to the landing, no matter how hard she tried. Eventually, she made it to the top and started down the long hallway to where she knew her parent's room to be.

As the dreamer neared, cries of passion came from within, growing louder with each step. They were the same sounds her and her sister Amelia occasionally heard growing up, when their parents thought they were sound asleep down the hall. Those times they had simply giggled and covered their ears. This time, Caroline continued down the corridor, floating on air. When she reached the doorway, she peered into the dimly lit room and saw her mother on the bed, facing the headboard and straddling her father. The couple was making mad love, grunting and moaning, rivers of sweat pouring from their bodies.

"Mom?" Caroline asked carefully as she tiptoed to their side.

The older woman turned and smiled, patting the side of the bed. Caroline inched closer, watching her mother's hips glide against the ones beneath, to the obvious pleasure of both. Summoning her courage, the younger girl glanced over her mom's shoulder, expecting to see her father in the throes of rapture. Instead, she gasped, for there was the man she'd known all her life as Uncle Zane, hands on her mother's tits, fucking his best friend's wife with abandoned.

"Mom?"

"Come," Lauren beckoned her daughter as she dismounted the biker. "Come and taste."

Out of perverse curiosity, the counselor drifted closer, leaning over the impressive cock. She felt her mother's hand on the back of her head, pushing her face closer as a dirty smile crossed Uncle Zane's face.

"But...what about Dad?"

"It's okay,” came her father's voice from a dark corner of the room, "I’m here. I’m always right here."

+++++

[mundyman]

Another outstanding chapter!!!

[JustWantToWatch]

Incredibly hot chapter!!! One.of the best!!!

A small request: as someone who views this site on my phone I have noticed that really long posts like this last chapter bog down the site. It takes forever for the story to load. Could these long chapters please be broken up into multiple posts to prevent the lag?

[SimpleEnigma]

Of course, that seems reasonable. Anything to help out. Our publisher, the very talented in many ways Mrs. Enigma, will certainly keep that in mind for the next chapter.

[lookingiansa]

Incredibly hot chapter!!! One.of the best!!!

A small request: as someone who views this site on my phone I have noticed that really long posts like this last chapter bog down the site. It takes forever for the story to load. Could these long chapters please be broken up into multiple posts to prevent the lag?

IDK if I would agree with that. I like the long posts myself. What kind of phone do you have that's that slow?

Quite a few authors have long post too. Look at KY edge and back are as long as these ones.

Just my opinion.

Mr. Lookingiansa

[Guhunkadorn]

Also like the long posts...whatever style the authors' present their stories in usually helps define them as well as the plot and I believe here there is so much that is happening in a given time frame that shortening each post could weaken the time frame build up I sense developing. Multiple, separate, posts in the same time frame can needlessly drag the plot on.

[Guhunkadorn]

Holy crap, I forgot to comment on the story.

I thought it was very fapable.

[WACouple]

Oh, yes!

[knighter33]

Best story ever!

[armyguyot1]

Welcome to the forum knighter33.

[SimpleEnigma]

Thanks for all the positive vibes. @knighter33, I appreciate the sentiment. I would encourage you to check out all the many great authors here that grace us with their stories. Free time is scarce these days, but when we do get some time to ourselves, we head straight to this site because we always know there will be a treat awaiting us.

Stay tolerant, friends.

[seles]

Great work, really hot! Thank you for sharing it here.
Look forward to reading more of Lauren's adventures.
Hope she starts breaking the condom rule more often!