*Chapter 12: Sex, Love, and Money*
I look back on it and think how interesting it is that certain small minor events in life, a traffic light is green instead of red or a decision to stop and admire a dress in the window of a store, can have profound effects on life’s outcomes. I believe there is a principle in science called ‘The Butterfly Effect’ where a small change in air pressure in China (the flapping of a butterflies wings) ends up setting in motion a chain of events that end up causing a hurricane in the Atlantic ocean.
It was almost a year now since Ron and I had started playing our little game of fantasy exchange and in many ways I had fundamentally changed as a person. I sometimes wondered if that day in his house alone, I would not have looked in that shoe box. Where would we be now? Would we even be together?
I guess I will never know, but the fact is, I did look and we are so wonderfully together.
I was sitting at my cubicle at work organizing my calendar when a chain of events began to fulfill a sexual fantasy that I had sent to Ron weeks before. It started with a phone call.
My phone rang and I was in the middle of work and for a brief instant I considered letting it go to voicemail, but then I was also waiting to talk to my boss about a project I had started for her.
“Hello, this is Sara.” I answered.
“Hi you.” Ron’s voice said in a relaxed tone.
I smiled in spite of myself, and all thoughts of work left me. I had not talked to him since I had slept over at his house the previous weekend.
“Hey I wondered if you were going to ever call me, or if you were just using me last weekend.”, I said teasingly.
Ron laughed and said, “Well you fuck pretty good so I thought you deserved at least another date.”
I laughed and knew he must be working from home. I could not banter with him in my cubicle environment so I changed the subject.
“Yeah Yeah, I am a woman of many talents. So how are you?”
“Good.” He replied. “Great in fact. If you are free, I think you should be at the Hilton after work. There is someone who would like to meet you.”
“Really who?” I asked intrigued now.
“Just check your in box.” He said with a giggle and hung up.
I held the dead receiver in my hand with white knuckles and my heart raced. Was tonight the night? Holy shit it’s a fucking Tuesday and it’s only been a week since we decided to continue the game.
I thought about the implications and the short notice and my stomach was a molten core of nerves. A thin sheen of sweat coated my upper lip, but my nipples were suddenly hard as pebbles. Jesus my fantasy was tonight? That was too fast. How could he have set it up? What had he set up?
I stood there transfixed with the receiver held to my ear. Slowly I put it down its cradle and glanced guiltily around feeling like my co-workers would somehow know something dirty was going through my mind.
Obviously that was my overactive imagination as everyone in the office was working as usual. No one stared at me with penetrating, knowing eyes seeing what fantasies played on the movie screen of my mind.
I smiled to myself enjoying the moment as if I was holding a secret that they would be shocked to know. It was an arousing feeling to live this life of fantasy within the context of my normal life and no one knew. I sometimes imagined what Shiela my cubical neighbor would say if she knew of the things I had done. She would probably transfer to another department.
I sat down in my chair savoring the feeling and adrenaline rush of a secret about to be revealed. I opened my private web mail (that I hoped really was private) and typed in my username and password. I glanced around nervously to make sure no one was watching and clicked the sign in button.
The screen blinked and I was surprised. “No New Messages” was prominently displayed. I knew Ron would never send me a provocative email to my work account, but I checked it just the same. I leaned back nervously in my chair wondering if the internet was running slow today. I forced myself to wait a full two minutes before clicking the refresh button on my browser. Still there was nothing.
I took a deep breath, confused and unsure of what to do. Ron had told me to check my in box. I considered calling him back, but he had hung up on me suggesting that was all the information I needed.
I glanced around the office once more to make sure I was not being scrutinized and pondered what to do. Then my skin went cold and butterflies rolled hard within my stomach. ‘Oh my God,’ I thought as realization hit me. But he would never have done that. Would he? I am sure I must have gone pale even thinking the thoughts I was thinking.
Nervously I stood up and started walking down the hall. It took all of my self control not to run. Jesus was he insane?
I turned the corner and ran into my boss. She was a classy lady in her mid 40’s with an amazing figure that was whispered about by her male colleagues. She dressed impeccably and most impressively she was genius smart. She was hard to work for because she was so driven, but she was also fair and was frighteningly loyal to her teams.
I loved her.
“Sara are you alright?”, she asked as I nearly bowled her over coming around the corner. “You look a little put out.”
I tried to smile, but I was nervous. “Er… fine. Sorry.” I stammered not knowing what else to say.
She took my hand and made me stand still. “Really now is everything ok?” Her eyes bore into me and I was sure I looked guilty. One of her many talents was being able to see into people and understand them.
“Yeah really everything is fine, I just er forgot something I need to do.”
She appraised me and said, “Well if everything is fine, I wanted to tell you I thought you did a great job on that report the other day. I would like to discuss it with you in my office later. Stop by before you leave for the day.”
I nodded and tried to look calm as I walked away from her briskly. I could feel her eyes on my back.
As soon as I rounded the outside of the cubicle farm I pushed open a side door and raced down a deserted office corridor. On the far wall was another room that I rarely visited and pushed my way into. Inside was the mail room with an office in back where clerks sorted and delivered mail to a public row of open boxes each with a name labeled on the front.
No one was in the mail room except one of the late afternoon clerks who was busy photocopying ad copy for a client under the glow of fluorescent lights. I smiled at him tentatively and he nodded. I walked to the third column of make shift mail boxes and found my last name.
I peered tentatively in the box expecting something. It was empty.
I breathed a sigh that was both filled with relief and confusion. I should have known Ron would never send something from our “Game” to my work place even if it was sealed. These mail boxes were not secure and anyone that worked for the company could see or even take the contents of any mail box. It was ironic that the company had recently installed post 9-11 metal detectors and cameras on every floor of the building, but failed to invest in 10 dollar locks for something as sensitive as mail could be.
I must have breathed my sigh of relief out loud as the mail guy turned to me and asked, “Are you okay?”
I turned and noticed him for the first time. He was a young man (almost boyish) and I could tell from his bright orange badge that he was one of our interns from the local college for the year. They called them ‘pledge’ badges because the bright orange marked them as interns that were only here for a semester. They were universally hated by the college kids. This one was stamped with the name “Gary” in black block letters.
Gary was a handsome young man in his early 20’s at my guess but was awkward and uncomfortable in the way that we are when we are out in the world and not yet experienced enough to know how to handle it. I smiled at him and also at myself and said, “Yes. I’m sorry I thought I had forgotten a package.”
Gary smiled back and said, “Oh well we don’t generally put packages out there, not that we get many. The packages are kept in the closet in the supply room.”
I nodded never knowing the intricate inner workings of the mail room, and must have appeared either interested or stupid because Gary seemed to brighten at the idea of teaching me what he did every day.
“You see,” he began, “if we get a package we mark it as received with a date stamp and then tag it with a blue card that has identical numbers on both ends. We then tear the ticket in half and put half of the tag in the mail box of the person the package is for. It’s kind of like how they do baggage claim at the airport.”
I nodded, not knowing what else to do. Was I really listening to a college kid tell me about mail? I was, but was so dumbfounded by the conversation I just listened.
“So, if you have a blue tag you have a package.” Gary concluded.
I nodded again as he came toward me. “Are you sure you are alright?” he asked.
“Fine.” I said and then Gary was at my side.
He looked into my mail box which was about two inches above my sight line. He smiled and said, “Looks like you’re gonna fuck, after all.” As he pulled a blue tag out of the back of my mailbox that I had overlooked.
“WHAT did you say?” I asked him with both panic and anger in my voice.
Gary looked at me, confused and afraid. He stammered, “I said it looks like you are in luck after all.” He blushed holding the blue tag out toward me like a peace offering.
It was my turn to blush. “I’m sorry. I just…..” my voice trailed off. “Never mind. So can you get me my package?” I asked my heart racing.
“Of course.” He said taking the ticket back and seeming to be happy to go back into the clerk’s office and away from the crazy bitch (aka me).
He returned a minute later with a brown cardboard box that was approximately 18 inches square. He held it out and I took it from him slowly. I wasn’t breathing. I held in my hands an artifact of ‘The Game’ and I was standing in the mail room of my office building.
I felt the world spin a bit as the reality of my fantasy world and the real world crashed together. I felt off balance the way one might feel if Daffy Duck stepped through the television set and shook your hand.
The box was real. Sara was real. The game was fantasy where Sara took the back seat and watched as her alter ego, Slutty Sara, do all the things her carnal mind imagined. But here was Sara and a possession of her alter egos.
It was out of context. I was out of context and didn’t know who I was at that moment. I felt trapped between who I was and who I sometimes pretended to be. The dislocation was intoxicating and I felt both the terror and excitement as if this was that first moment we ever played this most interesting game.
I took the box from Gary. Part of me wanted to just let go, rip his clothes off, and fuck him on top of the photocopier, and part of me was terrified that I had even entertained the thought. This was not a strip club in St. Louis or a party at Ron’s for God’s sake. This was my work. My life. But somewhere in my mind my alter ego lingered.
As if the thought was printed on my forehead, Gary turned away from me as if suddenly self conscious. I smiled in spite of myself and turned to leave him.
Across the hall was a women’s bathroom. I darted inside and thankfully was alone. I splashed cold water on my face and stared at myself in the mirror. I was Sara again albeit a little flushed. I stared at the box sitting on the vanity next to me. I felt suddenly nervous like a drug addict who realizes while in line at the airport security terminal he has forgotten to empty his overnight bag of the two ounces of coke he hid there.
What the hell was I going to do with that box? I couldn’t carry it around all day, but no way was it going to be left under my desk in my cubicle. I vowed to get even with Ron for this.
I took a deep breath and picked up my box and went to the last stall. It was the handicapped stall so I had more room. I gently set the box down on the floor and stared at it for a minute.
Finally I mustered my courage and pulled the tape on the top of the box. It ripped away with a loud tearing sound that startled me in the small confines of the ladies room.
I nervously listened to make sure I was still alone before opening the flaps of cardboard. I was tingling despite myself and my nipples were rock hard. Although I was nervous and a little terrified of having my alter ego visit me at work, deep down I was also boiling with anticipation at what I might find.
My body betrayed my nerves and the familiar butterflies of nervousness gave way to tingles that dance across my nipples and clitoris. I licked my lips involuntarily and opened the box.
I stared down into bubble rap. I could not tell what the box concealed, but on the very top was a single sheet of blue paper folded in half. My name was written in familiar handwriting on the side facing me. I picked it up gently.
The sound of the door startled me. Someone had just come into the ladies room. I quickly stood and dropped my skirt and sat on the toilet as if I expected them to look below the stall doors and wonder what I was doing. I smiled to myself even as I was blushing.
I listened as two women I didn’t recognize talked.
“She’s such a bitch. I can’t believe I have to work Saturday. I was supposed to go to the zoo with my kids.” The first woman said.
“That sucks. I was planning on spending the day with my boyfriend.” Woman number two commiserated.
Water began running and one of the women entered the stall next to mine.
I sat silently wondering what I should do. I held the letter in one hand and the box was at my feet. Thank god for the bubble rap. Even if they knew I was here at least there was no chance of them seeing what was in the box.
Suddenly I sneezed without warning.
The two women stopped talking immediately, obviously they thought they were alone.
“Hello? Is someone else in here?” one of them called nervously wondering who had overheard their conversation.
“Hello.” I said. “Just Sara.”
The sigh of relief was audible. They had no idea who I was.
“Sorry, just thought we were alone.” a voice called from the stall next door.
“No problem.” I said, wondering who in the hell would talk to some stranger on a toilet.
I reached for the toilet paper roll to blow my nose when it happened. The paper I held dropped from my fingers and fluttered toward the floor. My heard stopped and I grabbed for it losing my balance and nearly falling off my seat. I watched in horror as the blue paper fluttered one last time and then managed to slide under the wall and into the adjacent bathroom stall.
“What’s this?” the woman asked.
My heart was pounding and my face flushed. “Sorry,” I said trying not to let the edge in my voice show. “That was in my pocket and it fell.”
Silence followed for what felt like a year and then finally a hand appeared under my stall wall. “Okay well here you go.” The voice said.
I looked down and saw the familiar blue paper held between two slender fingers with red nail polish. I snatched the paper from the hand and said, “Thanks.”
I clutched the paper to my chest willing my heart to slow down.
I dared not move. I had almost paid a horrible price for this game. What was I thinking? I should never have opened the box.
Two minutes later the women exited the restroom and left me alone, heart pounding sitting on a toilet clutching a now crumpled piece of blue paper to my chest. It was unfathomable to me that another person outside of my fantasy life had actually touched an artifact of the game.
I kept picturing those slender fingers holding the paper casually between the finger tips, but in the reply in my mind at the last second they snatch the paper way from me. Before I can do anything I hear the woman say, “Oh my God.” And then hurry from the bathroom. I imagine how fast that memo would travel throughout the office and wonder what hell I would endure knowing that my co-workers would see me everyday and think, “Slut” or “Whore”.
I would have to quit.
But that scenario only happened in my mind. Even still, my face flushed and heart beat wildly at the thought. What was I doing? I asked myself for the millionth time since I had met Ron.
But under it all, if I am honest, there was something more. My face was not the only thing that seemed to flush. My nipples were like diamonds inside my bra even now and I found myself squeezing the muscles of my pussy involuntarily. When I became consciously aware of these responses I flushed again.
After waiting a full two minutes, I opened the box again, slowly as if expecting a jack in the box to come springing out of it.
I intended to replace the note and reseal the box until I could find a more appropriate place to unpack it and digest its contents and implications in private.
Instead, spontaneously, as if possessed by another woman, I pulled out the bubble wrap and peered inside.
At the bottom of the box lay a pair of black high heal shoes, a black mini-skirt, a conservative white blouse, a make up kit, pantyhose, black thong underwear, an electronic hotel key with the number 801 written on it, and a bottle of lubricant.
My mouth was dry as I opened the note and read:
Sara —
I think I understand this fantasy of yours. If I am right it is about risk and submission. Your words said, “I want to be a hooker for a night”, and I must admit, I wondered, ‘why?’. Hookers fuck for money, but I don’t think that is why you want this.
I think you want to be ‘used’ for pleasure to explore what men want and if you can provide it. I think you want to fuck someone who you do not know or care about or who does not know or care about you. I think you want to see if you can please a man and explore pleasure yourself on a purely sexual and transactional level. I also think you like the risk involved, but I will not put you in physical jeopardy for a fantasy.
I have arranged for your fantasy to come true, but to make it more real it will not be without risk. Your ‘client’ is a man named Robert. He is a business associate of mine from Europe. Your ability to please him will have a direct affect on my ability to work with him in the future, so the risk you are taking is mine. He is a significant client to me, and he is also a pervert who loves hookers. I know he would not harm you, but he will expect quality service and I have assured him I have arranged a ‘date he will never forget’.
So you get to be his ‘trick’. He will pay you $1000.00 for two hours of your time. He is in room 1099 and is expecting you at 7pm. Good luck, and I look forward to hearing about your fantasy tonight over drinks when you finish with Robert. Come to my house at 11:00.
Love Ron.
I was stunned. I sat in the stall of the women’s room reeling. My stomach was in knots. Was he crazy? Making me a real hooker for something that could cost him his business God knew how much money.
Jesus.
Could I do this? For the first time in the game I felt trapped. I mean the Hilton was only across the street. What if someone I knew was there? But I couldn’t really get out of this now. It was my fantasy after all, and Ron did have something to lose. Fuck.
I checked my watch. It was 4:41 pm. Good God, less than 3 hours.
I took a deep breath and examined the contents of the box more closely. The clothes were expensive and well made, but they were not conservative. The skirt was a little too short and the blouse a little too tight. I imagined walking through the hotel lobby. My outfit alone screamed ‘call girl’, and of course, that was the role I was playing.
I imagined being in the outfit. The too short skirt hinting at thighs and more that could be bought. The too tight shirt pressed against my bra-less breasts, outlining and imprinting the hardness of my nipples against the silky fabric.
I imagined this woman who was not me, but who also was me walking confidently through a hotel lobby as heads turned to watch the sway of her ass. Part of me envied her. Part of me was her. And a big part of me wanted to put on her clothes and become her.
I smiled at the imagery and steeled my mind against the night that lay ahead. I would do this. I knew I would so there was no point in agonizing over the morality of it. I would become the woman in my mind who was so confident, daring, and sexually aware of herself.
But not yet. First I had to get out of here so that when I was done being the woman I imagined, I could come back and be the woman I was.
I put the note back in the box and began to close it. Then I hesitated a wicked thought occurring to me. I stood up and hiked up my skirt. Below I wore a pair of blue panties (cotton). I peeled them down my legs and stepped out of them. I admired my shaved pussy and touched my clit and then touched the tip of my finger to my lips. I licked it and tasted myself. I grinned and opened the box again and pulled the black g-string panties on.
I smiled to myself and marched confidently out of the bathroom depositing my ‘old’ panties in the waste bin as I left, not knowing I would regret that decision in a few hours.
At that moment I felt as if I were both the woman I was and the woman I would become. Underneath my skirt I wore her panties and that was a secret I kept from everyone who was around me. Underneath, where no one in this building would ever see, she was there. And I was glad. Tonight would be fun.
* * * * * *
The Palmer House Hilton is an icon in Chicago. The vaulted ceilings ornately decorated along with the hotel staff all screamed sophistication and class. The staff was polite and refined and only business men and women on expense accounts and the financially elite could afford to stay there.
I stepped into the lobby from a side door which was held open for me by a doorman in a red suit. He smiled at me and then dismissed me as one more traveling business woman with a box under her arm.
As I stepped into the main lobby my eyes were drawn to the three story ceiling vaults and intricate paintings that could rival the Cisteen Chapel. It was 5:49 and the place was packed. Business men dressed in expensive suits milled throughout the room drinking single malt scotches from the bar. Service people swarmed the line at the immaculate check in desk frantically sorting and tagging luggage for in room delivery.
My heart was pounding as I contemplated the move I would make next. I checked my watch for the 200th time that hour. I still had over an hour. I decided a drink was in order.
I took my box containing my ‘whore-wear’ as I thought of it and stepped into the bar. The bar was ¾ full of men drinking expensive drinks and watching a basketball game on ESPN. I looked and found an empty bar stool half way down the bar with no one sitting on either side. That looked like a good spot for some liquid courage a few moments of peace to collect my thoughts.
I sat down and put the box on the chair next to me. The bar tender was there instantly and said, “Yes ma’am. What would you like?”
I smiled at him and said, “Vodka martini.”
He nodded and was gone to practice his craft. Three minutes later he returned with a large martini glass with flakes of ice attached to the outside. I took a drink and felt the burn of alcohol go down my throat and warm my stomach.
I took a deep breath and looked around. To my left were a group of business men talking about the long term oil market pricing based on futures traded earlier in the day. I shook my head and wondered how anyone could possibly be interested in that. To my left was a couple engaged in casual conversation that I could not hear. I took another deep breath and wondered if one of the men in this bar would be inside me in less than an hour.
I bit my bottom lip as I scanned the crowd wondering and familiar tingles raced between my nipples and my clit. Jesus this was insane.
Fantasies began playing in my head of what the night would hold. I drank two martinis and left the bar at 6:50pm both excited and terrified.
********* *
I entered the women’s room closest to the bank of elevators with my box and went into the handicapped stall at the end. Thankfully I was alone, but there was no guarantee for how long. I quickly stripped off my work clothes and stood on the cold marble floor in bare feet. I was horny as hell and briefly I wondered what would happen if I marched to the elevators and up to my trick’s room naked. I shivered with pleasure at the thought, but quickly reeled the fantasy in.
I dressed in my ‘whore wear’ and packed my day clothes in the box.
A question suddenly flared up in my mind. What the hell was I supposed to do with this? What kind of hooker shows up for a trick with luggage?
I laughed out loud at the imagery, but realized I had a real dilemma. I couldn’t leave it here, and I most certainly could not check it at the front desk. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I sighed and looked around for a solution. At the back of the handicapped stall there was an ornately decorated door. I tried the knob and it was locked, but loose in the frame. I presumed this was a maintenance closet.
I opened my purse and found a letter opener I had borrowed from work (for a reason I still do not remember) and attempted to pry the locking mechanism back through the narrow slit in the door. On the third try it opened.
Inside was a mop sink, a mop, and a furnace. I smiled and slid the box into the small room and said a short prayer that no one would find it.
* * * * * * *
I left my stall and stared at the woman in the mirror. I was even more slutty looking than my mind’s eye would have predicted. The skirt seemed shorter and the blouse tighter. The heels pointier. I smiled and realized for a split moment I was attracted to the reflection. I giggled wondering what Freud might say about that.
I was also nervous as hell as my alter ego became real before me and Sara was relegated to the back of my mind all the while screaming how insane I was being. I mentally told her (myself) to relax and enjoy the ride and boldly stepped into the hotel lobby.
It was 7:01 when I stepped into the elevator with three men whose eyes bore lustfully into me.
* * * *
At 7:04 I stood in front of a white door on the 8th floor at the end of a long yellow hallway. Black numbers proclaimed that the door in which I stood was number 801. I had the hotel key in my hand and wondered if I should use it or knock.
My hands were sweaty and my heart was pounding. I stared at the door not knowing what to do. Could I do this? I looked down at myself and noticed my nipples were clearly indicating that part of me could.
I knocked.
A moment later the door opened and my heart dropped to my stomach. I was staring dumbfounded at a woman.
The woman was dressed in a robe that had the Hilton logo over the right breast. She had auburn hair and was my height. She looked sophisticated even in a robe and clearly was well to do judging from the diamond ring on her left hand.
My confusion must have registered, but the woman staring back at me smiled and said, “Well do come in.”
I started to speak, but no sound came out. The woman extended her hand and said, “Perhaps you expected my husband, Robert.” She said and gently took my elbow and guided me inside. “Don’t worry, he is here. Why don’t we all go inside and have a little chat.”
Inside was a suite that was amazing. There was a main living room book ended by a study on the left and a master bedroom on the right. There was an L shaped couch in the center of the room and a plasma screen television hanging on the wall. At the back end was a wet bar stocked with every kind of top shelf liquor you could imagine.
Robert was no where to be seen, but I thought I heard the shower running.
The woman let go of my arm and said, “Perhaps a drink to steady your nerves dear?” I noticed a glass at the end of the bar with an amber liquid in it. “My name is Monica by the way and I have been married to the man you came here to fuck for 15 years.”
She said this pleasantly, but underneath her tone was one of cold anger.
I was too stunned to speak and would not trust myself to talk anyway. Monica walked to the end of the bar and selected a high ball glass. “Now would you like a Manhattan young lady?”
I nodded. What else could I do?
Monica poured the drink and began to speak. “So you are understandably confused so allow me to illuminate the situation. You see I was in London shopping since my dear husband Robert had urgent business in Chicago, and a thought occurred to me.”
She handed me my drink and I took it reluctantly. I looked in her eyes and saw a cold fury there that scared me and thought, ‘woman scorned’.
“I thought, how nice it would be to pop over the pond and see Robert and do some shopping on the Miracle Mile. Oxford street can be such bore comparatively. And since my dear dear Robert was already there perhaps we could dine together at some of your cities fine eateries.”
She paused for dramatic effect and appraised me critically. I never had felt so naked as I did under her stare.
“So you can imagine my surprise when I arrived last night to find my husband naked on that very couch with a young woman equally naked who apparently mistook my husband’s penis for her personal lollipop.”
Monica took another drink of her Manhattan as I stood holding mine in stunned silence. This was not going well, and sensible Sara was screaming in the back of my mind to run like hell. Somehow my feet seemed glued to the floor.
Monica then smiled at me coldly and said, “You look a little pale dear. Are you sure you are alright?”
I bit my bottom lip nervously and then said meekly. “Perhaps I should go.”
Monica laughed coldly and said, “Go? But you haven’t even seen Robert yet, and besides you have not yet done your job or been paid. No I don’t think a young industrious entrepreneur such as yourself should have made this trip all the way here and leave with nothing. Let’s see what Robert thinks.”
With that she stepped to the bedroom door and said, “Robert, your whore for tonight is here. She is blond also, but at least of legal drinking age. Get your ass out here.”
The word ‘whore’ cut into me like a cold steel blade, but part of me admired the strength of this woman. Yes to her I was a whore, but she was not playing the victim in her husband’s infidelity.
“As soon as I dress.” a male voice answered. I heard both fear and submission in his voice and thought, ‘Dude you are so fucked.’
Monica disappeared into the bedroom and I considered bolting toward the door, but she returned before I could take a step dragging her husband who was wet from a shower and wrapped in only a towel around the waist.
Monica smiled again as Robert stood behind her holding his towel. He did not even look at me, but instead found a spot two feet in front of him on the floor much more interesting. “May I present my husband Robert.”
Monica turned to him and said, “Where are your manners Robert, this young lady came all the way here to fuck you, at least you could say hello.”
Robert finally looked at me and rolled his eyes and mouthed the word, “Sorry.” After his wife had turned back to face me. All in all Robert was attractive. He had a thin waist and was darkly tanned as if from Middle Eastern descent. He had black hair with a fleck of gray at the sides that would have given him a look of sophistication had he been dressed in a suit rather than a towel. There was also a look of defeat about him now, and I almost felt a bit sorry for him.
Monica led her half naked husband to the couch and sat him down and then turned to me and said, “Now why don’t we all sit down and get to know each other.”
I was shocked, but found myself taking a seat in an overstuffed chair across from Robert and Monica. I was still too stunned to trust myself to speak but I stole a glance at my watch which read, 7:12. Jesus it had been the longest 8 minutes of my life so far.
Monica sat with her drink next to her husband but acted as if he were invisible. Well perhaps not invisible, more like a piece of furniture that was inconsequential to her. I on the other hand was an object of intense focus for her. She leaned forward and her eyes seemed to bore into me. “May I know your name dear or would that be improper? Do you use a pseudonym in your profession?”
I stared at her blankly not fully comprehending her question. “Um. My name is Sara.” I said hoping my nerves did not show through in my voice.
“Sara. What a lovely name. And have you met Robert before or was tonight to be your first ‘date’.” The word date she emphasized coldly as if she had bitten into a rotten piece of fruit. Her voice was thick with contempt for me, but underneath I thought I sensed also genuine curiosity.
“I have never ‘dated’ Robert before.” I said reflecting her contempt with more confidence than I felt. This woman was inches away from a rage she would not be able to contain. This could be dangerous, but I also knew instinctively that to cower to her like her husband would only encourage her further.
She appraised me with those cold brown eyes again, but the corners of her mouth turned up slightly. She seemed somewhat amused by my boldness. I knew that she was using me to torture her husband, and part of her was now wondering if I would play along and for how long. I was wondering the same thing. This was not the sexual experience I had imagined in my fantasy, but deep inside me there was something so titillating about being on the edge like this.
Monica smiled and said, “Well tell me, how long have you been a whore?”
I knew she was trying to get a reaction from me. I gave her none, but smiled back at her coldly and said ambiguously, “Not long.”
“And do you enjoy your work?”
I shrugged noncommittally.
“Please don’t be shy, educate me. I have never known a woman like you. Tell me do you find pleasure in the sex, or is it just something you do for money? Does the attractiveness of the man play into it?”
She was genuinely curious, but was also enjoying watching Robert squirm as he sat silently next to her. I decided to play along for a bit longer to see where this was going. I knew this was probably an irrational decision, but a part of me deep down was enjoying Robert’s humiliation. But he had dug his own hole here and Monica intended to make him pay for his transgression.
She was also trying to destroy his fantasy. In a sense she was forcefully taking him behind the scenes of a porno movie forcing him to see the not so arousing side of prostitution.
“Well to be honest, I do enjoy it with the right person. If the man is attractive and treats me well.” I said not knowing if that was true at all.
“And do you find my Robert attractive?”, she asked.
I looked at Robert who met my eyes. Was there something more than fear there now? I felt his eyes sweep across my body as mine appraised his. I looked back to Monica who was intensely interested in whatever I said next. A bead of sweat had formed on her forehead and for the first time I saw not only anger and curiosity in her eyes, but also longing. What was going on here?
I smiled and said, “Yes, your husband is attractive.” Monica took a deep breath and said, “And how much do you charge for your services?”
“I believe the agreed upon rate for this evening is 1000.00 for two hours.” I said not knowing if this was too high, too low, or just right.
Monica stood up appraised me and went back to the bar. Robert and I sat silently staring at each other. Robert must be the boldest man I had ever met because even in his predicament, I could see him staring at my breasts with lust. The towel across his lap tented slightly and I wondered what would happen if Monica also noticed his arousal.
Monica returned after rummaging behind the bar and handed me a thick role of 50 dollar bills. I took them but only stared at them.
“You may count it if you like.” Monica said misinterpreting my hesitation. “Now you came here to do a job so far be it from me to get in the way of a first date. Go on fuck him.”
Her rage was back and she stood to one side of the couch watching us. Niether of us moved. “Well what’s wrong? You got your money now go on fuck him.” She spat at me.
I was still too stunned for speech. Monica sighed and went to her husband and savagely yanked the towel away from him. Whatever arousal he may have felt was gone instantly and his cock hung limply between his legs.
“Monica you have made your point. Stop this now.” Robert spoke for the first time in an English accent.
Monica turned on him like a striking snake. “How dare you even speak to me you cheating bastard. How many whores have there been over the years? Many I am sure. Now don’t get all holier than thou with me just because I have decided to play in your decadence. Now you are going to fuck her or I am going to fuck you in divorce court for the rest of your life.”
Robert sighed resigned and sat naked on the couch waiting to see what would happen.
Monica turned to me and said, “Do you know the last time he fucked me was 3 months ago. I think I deserve to at least know what he could not find in me. Don’t you?”.
I was beginning to understand more now than I had. Monica finds out Robert has been cheating on her. Something she probably knew deep down anyway. Wives somehow always deep down know. But there was more to this. She felt inadequate. Behind her toughness and her razor like tongue was a woman who was in the middle of her life feeling like she was not enough for the man she had married.
Deep down she was afraid and hurt, but as much as there was of hurt, there was also self doubt about what could Robert possible see in a whore such as me that she could not provide.
I pitied this woman at this moment and could see that she was on the verge of not rage now, but tears. I went to her slowly and took her hand. She resisted and made to pull away from me, but the effort was weak and half hearted. I led her to the chair in which I had sat and set her down.
I kneeled before her leaned in closely. Her rage melted and was replaced with sadness and hurt. Part of me wanted to hug her, but I didn’t. I was not her friend; I was her husband’s whore. She looked up at me with both curiosity, self loathing, and confusion.
I could smell her expensive perfume and knew she had stopped breathing. She was not in control here now, I was. And that was good. I didn’t know if I could save her marriage, but I could not leave her without at least trying to release her from her own doubt.
I whispered to her a single word, “Watch.” I favored her with a grin reserved for two conspiratorial women and for just a moment her eyes twinkled and the corners of her mouth turned up into a grin. Then it was gone and she did as I asked.
* * * * * * * *
I released her hand and turned toward Robert. She seemed to relax, perhaps relieved not to have to be in control of anything. Robert recoiled slightly and I wondered if he could see the hatred I had for him burning in my eyes. It may have been irrational, but I blamed him completely. Not for using whores, but for making Monica feel as if she were not good enough for him.
I had felt that way often enough in my life. Still felt it sometimes, and I loathed it.
I walked to him slowly. I shed my heels as I walked. Then standing before him and between he and his wife I slowly stripped off my blouse. My breasts came free and I heard a sharp intake of breath from both man and woman whose eyes I could feel on me.
I knelt before Robert and placed my hands on his naked thighs. My breasts were all but touching his knees. I rand my hands up his thighs toward his cock. It twitched and began to harden. I smiled.
I could feel Monica watching me intently. All rage was gone and had been replaced with burning curiosity. I licked my lips seductively and unzipped my black skirt letting peeling it away from my hips. My black thong accenting the curves of my hips and ass with the thin material covering what Robert was now longing for.
I lowered my mouth to him without hesitation and took him deeply in my throat.
He groaned at my touch. I bobbed my head on his hard shaft in gentle oscillating rhythms. He lay his head back in pleasure. I stroked his shaft with my hand as I performed my very best blowjob on him. I found myself getting wet at the thought of his hard cock and his wife’s curious eyes on me. I love cock sucking and it was such a turn on.
I sucked his cock not with lust although I was aroused, but with anger and hatred transferred from Monica to me. I wanted to hurt him, but more than that I wanted Monica to know what he was. I would show her who he was and maybe who she could be.
I felt Robert shudder and immediately stopped. I squeezed the base of his cock to prevent his eruption. Precum oozed but he did not cum. I flicked my tongue over the tip of his shaft tasting him and letting a strand of his pre-cum stretch obscenely between the tip of his cock and the tip of my tongue. I broke as I pulled away from him and I licked my lips.
“Does it feel good Robert?”, I asked seductively.
“Jesus yes it don’t stop.” He said in quivering tones as his cock spasmed in my hand.
I squeezed tighter around his shaft. “Not yet.” I whispered.
As near orgasm subsided I slowly released my grip on his cock and slowly began stroking him. I completely ignored Monica and wondered if he could do the same. For her part she sat silently watching us without expression or comment.
“So tell me do you like her watching me suck your cock Robert?”, I asked.
I could feel his whole body tense. He did not like the way this was going and although his mind was in a sexual haze, he knew this line of questioning could be dangerous. I imagined his dilemma. Should he be honest? What was the right answer? Was there a right answer? He chose silence which was both wise and cowardly at the same time.
I stopped stroking and gently began massaging his balls. He moaned, but there was also fear there. I could hurt him and he knew it. His cock was still hard, but I could feel the mixture of fear and arousal in him. I wondered if he enjoyed the feeling. “Now don’t be shy Robert. Tell me. Does it feel good to do it in front of her?”
Monica’s eyes were now sparkles and the curve of a grin returned to her face. The cold hardness was there, but also some thing more.
Robert still chose silence and I squeezed his balls a little more tightly. Not enough to cause pain. There was still pleasure in my touch, but enough to remind him of his position.
“Um yes it feels good.”, Robert groaned finally deciding an answer (even the ‘wrong’ one) was better than no answer.
I rewarded him be licking his balls gently and stroking his shaft. Monica gaped. I smiled inwardly. Robert relaxed again as his arousal once more began to build.
I slowly stood not releasing my grasp on his shaft and turned to face Monica. Her face was flushed. Our eyes met and she held them. I stared back into them and I slowly sad down upon Robert’s lap. I positioned his cock at my pussy and slowly impaled myself upon him. His hands found my hips and once fully inside me I leaned back against his chest feeling him filling my cunt while allowing Monica to watch him slide inside me.
I watched Monica silently watching me as I ground my hips back and fourth on her husband’s lap as his cock slipped in and out of me. I could feel Robert panting on my neck and knew he would not last long. I brought my fingers to my clit and began masturbating myself knowing he would finish long before I got there.
Monica was still angry and curious, but also aroused. Her face was flushed and the nipples beneath her robe had to be like hard pebbles full of desire. Her own hips rocked involuntarily as she watched us.
Without warning Robert’s grip on my hips tightened and I felt the familiar warmth and spasm inside of me indicated he had ejaculated. I pushed down hard on him, not cumming myself, but what whore came with her trick in real life anyway. His cock spasmed again and I knew another spray of him had gone off inside of me. And then his body went limp and it was over. His cock slowly wilted inside me.
Monica seemed to sense this also and shifted slightly in her seat breaking eye contact with me finally. I took a deep breath and slowly stood up off Robert as his cock slid from me with an audible ‘plop’.
I walked to Monica slowly and took her hand. I said softly to her, “How do you feel?”
She considered me and then said in a whisper, “I’m not sure. I expected…” Her voice trailed off.
“You expected more? Something special perhaps for the sum you paid me. Perhaps something you couldn’t do?” I smiled knowing my understanding was correct.
“Yes.” She said as if I had voiced her own thoughts.
I smiled at her and said, “Sorry to disappoint you, but getting a whore isn’t about a woman’s inadequacy, it’s about the man’s. I hope I helped you to understand that.”
She looked at me and grinned a real smile for the first time. It was just a flash and then evaporated, but it was real and genuine while it was there. She nodded and said, “I think you did. Thank you.”
I giggled and said, “You are the first woman I know that has ever thanked a hooker for fucking her husband. I hope you two work it out.”
Monica smiled at me and then looked over at Robert who was sitting there wondering what the hell was going to happen to him. He could not hear our whispers, but Monica’s face went from warm and conspiratorial to cold and calculating immediately. “Oh I am sure I am going to work it out.” She said loud enough for Robert to hear.
Robert cringed at her words, and judging from how she looked at him he had every right to be worried. Never before had I seen a man so absolutely fucked.
I picked up my panties and Monica’ took my hand before I could step into them.
“May I have these?”, she asked. “I will pay for them if you want.”
I considered her for a moment and then handed her the thong panties. “Sure.” I said confused.
“Thank you, I have plans that may require this sort of underwear, and although I am sure more could be purchased, there is something fitting in that they be yours.”
I shrugged as I stepped into skirt and top sans panties. I did not understand, but all I really wanted to do was get out of there at this point. I really didn’t ever plan to wear that underwear again anyway.
Monica walked me to the door and handed me another 1000.00 dollars. I took the handful of bills and said, “Enjoy the rest of your night.” It sounded hollow and stupid, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
She nodded to me and closed the door. I would never see either of them again.
I rode down the elevator with two business men whose eyes seemed to maul me. I could feel Robert running out of me and that was when I realized that I had thrown my other panties away.
I sighed as the doors to the lobby dinged open and quickly made my way to the ladies room to turn back into Sara.
At 10:05 I was in a cab on my way to Ron’s with 2000.00 dollars in cash. Although it was not the fantasy I imagined, I had been a whore for a night, and a successful one at that. And while it was not a mind bending sexual experience, the memory of Monica’s eyes on me while her husband’s cock was inside me would be masturbation fodder for the rest of my life.
* * * * *
An hour later I was naked again. This time I was with Ron and much more comfortable. He was naked too and sat immersed up to his neck in the hot water of his spa. I sat on the side, at his request, drinking another martini. He wanted to see me while I told him my story.
He sat and listened in stunned silence as I told him every detail exactly as I remembered them. When I had finished I knew he had to be hard, and I suspected he was stroking himself under the frothing water.
“Did he really have sex with you while his wife watched? Jesus.”, he said with a flushed face.
I grinnned and spread my legs to answer his question. I used my fingers to open myself for him (he loved that visual) and I knew he could see I was more open than usual from the night’s escapades. Not to mention some of Robert’s cum was still stuck to my thighs.
“Jesus.” He said again but this time lustfully.
He stood up, his erect cock before him. I grinned as he came to me. He positioned himself at my pussy and slowly slid into me. I sighed as he easily hilted himself on his first thrust. “You are such a good whore.” He said.
I moaned at the word which did not cut this time but aroused hearing it from him. And at his words I became his whore. But this time not for money, but so much more.
He was urgently thrusting inside of me then and I held his shoulders as I wrapped my legs around his body. I could feel him deeply inside me and I was wet from my current arousal and the fuck from before.
“Fuck my cum filled pussy baby.” I whispered nastily in his ear knowing he wanted me to be nasty now. I could sense deep down he was extraordinarily turned on by the thought of fucking my cream pie pussy. A little part of my brain went, ‘Hmm that’s interesting’, and then the thought was lost in my own lust.
“Oh God.” He replied and thrust more urgently.
We both came fast.
He erupted inside of me harder than I had ever felt before. It was like a hose let loose deep inside my pussy. I came with him, equally hard, gripping him with the contracting muscles of my cunt.
It was fast and hard, and I felt myself lose control of my mind as I came on his cumming cock.
Wetness squirted from me, coating his cock and balls. This rare event never ceased to catch me off guard and when it happened I was completely beyond control.
Another squirt from him and I was contracting in orgasm again. I was lost in the feeling and when the orgasm crested, we crested together. I held Ron tightly and he to me both shivering uncontrollably as we rode the waves of a mind bending orgasm.
Slowly the shivering tingles subsided, but we hugged each other tightly until we both broke into a fit of giggles. We sank into the water together both laughing and kissing. We spent the rest of the night making love and loving each other.
Around 4:00 we held each other in Ron’s bed. He kissed my forehead and said with good nature, “God I am so glad it’s my turn again.”
I kissed him back and said, “You mean I don’t get to go twice in a row after that?”
He smiled and said, “No way babe. I’m not giving up my turn.”
I reached between his legs and gave his cock a gentle squeeze. I was somewhat horny again. Jesus this game made me a nympho. And then feeling particularly dirty I said, “I think you should be really dirty this time.”
I drifted off to sleep holding him not knowing that my words would set in motion a fantasy that would change three people’s lives forever.