Rented Out

Rafaelo's was famous for its

porchetto

, its

fagiole

and its

risotto di funghi

. But what Shirley most valued was the exquisitely trained waiters. "And not only are they the most professional in the city, but the most discrete, as well. That's why I brought you here for lunch, dear Marilyn, so we could have a 'friends with benefits' chat and be completely sure that nothing we say will ever get farther than this booth."

Marilyn giggled. "Friends with benefits. Now there's a phrase I haven't heard for a while. Mark called you a bossy playmate. I like your version better."

"Oh he's got me nailed there. A bossy playmate is exactly what I am; always managing other people's sex lives for my own enjoyment. And that's why we're here, quietly digesting this excellent lunch. It's been a couple of weeks since we had "dinner and entertainment" at my place and I want to see what's going on with you two. Did you find pegging Mark as much fun as you hoped?"

A slow, sly smile spread over the younger woman's face. "We went out to breakfast the next morning—because we were too horny to eat dinner Monday night, remember? Anyway, after the entire eggs, meats, waffles and such we sort of waddled back to the house. Mark mumbled something about a quick nap and hit the pillow. He was asleep before I could even lie down. When I woke up, he was still asleep so I tried undoing his buttons. Didn't even twitch! I got his shirt open and his pants undone and he was still asleep. So I wiggled his jeans and briefs down over his ass and pulled them clear off. Surprise, surprise, he must have been dreaming about something fun, 'cause he was stiff as a pikestaff. That's when I stripped and put on the harness."

"Good moves, girl. I should have loaned you a riding crop while I was at it."

"I don't know about that but once he was half naked, it was easy to get him to roll over and pull off his shirt. I was thinking hard about tying his wrists together when he woke up."

"And?" Shirley leaned back expectantly and lifted her wine glass to her lips. She liked the way this story was playing out.

"Well, Mark is so much stronger than I am that there was no way I could actually hold him down but I jumped on his back and grabbed his ear in my teeth."

"Good, good. That's the ticklish part of being a woman top. The man is stronger than you are, period. Either he plays along or the game is over. Of course, I do have Mark well trained . . ."

"Thank you for that. As soon as I was on top, he gave a little moan, spread his legs and lifted his hips. It was easy to see he was ready. So—I stood up and grabbed the lube tube. I greased up his ass and that king-size dong you loaned me, hopped back on top and pushed. I thought it might be hard, but even as big as that one was, it slipped right up his butt."

"It's just a question of muscle control, Marilyn. All my guys learn it really quick. I make sure they do." She winked.

"I think I understand now why you said you preferred fucking men to being fucked. There's a real feeling of power shoving a big chunk of silicone into your guy's ass over and over. I don't know when he came 'cause I didn't stop until I did. We needed a shower afterwards . . ."

"And the next time?" By now Shirley was grinning like a well-canary-ed cat.

"You mean the next night or the next time I did him?"

"Both, of course, assuming they were different times."

Marilyn blushed. "Uh, they were. The next night when I came out of the shower, Mark grabbed me, threw me over his shoulder and carried me outside. I don't know when he built it or bought it but there was this big walnut and leather frame on our patio. I wanted to scream at him but all that would have done is attract attention so I let him strap me in. He told me I'd been a very naughty girl and that I really needed a sound spanking for being so naughty."

"And he gave you one?"

"He took out a leather flogger! He showed it to me, slid it up, down and across my ass and then cracked it across me. He started slow and light but worked his way up real fast. By the time I was crying, he had my entire butt red. Then he stuck this lube dispenser up my backside and greased me all at once. Girl, he butt-fucked me good and proper. I must have come six or seven times, I swear. How come no one ever told me that pain and pleasure were so close together?"

"Because they aren't for everybody. Mark took a big risk doing you that way. Only about one person in three really gets into BDSM and not all of them do pain. But you liked it a lot?"

"I did. It's funny; the thing that most attracted me to Mark was that he was so sweet and gentle. And for the first year or so we were married I was really happy with him being that way."

"And then you got bored. It happens. When Hercule and I were first married, I loved the whole romantic Continental shtick. The candle lit dinners, the French sweet nothings in my ear—it was wonderful for a while. Then it got repetitive. I was about to blow a gasket until the day I found out that Hercule liked men as much as he likes me. That put a whole new angle on the relationship and we've never looked back.

And since we're on that subject, does Mark know?"

"He asked if Hercule had done him or was it all you. I told him I'll never tell and he'll never know. I guess that was fine. He hasn't said anything about it since."

"He obviously enjoyed it. Of course, as doped and fired up as he was, he'd have enjoyed anything. Keeping his initiation into gay sex a secret is fine for the present. Eventually he'll have to know. There are too many men at the party just slavering to get into his pants. You are still on for renting him out?"

"You bet! He insisted that we put the money he was paid into something for me and I insisted that we put all the money we get that way into things for us. I think he felt really guilty Saturday morning. It took a lot of reassurance to make him feel better. Of course, Monday night helped a lot, too!" Marilyn giggled again. "I'm sure he will feel a lot better if I announce that since he found a way to turn a profit on me, I'm going to return the favor. I just need the proper wording. When is the next party, by the way?"

"Oh, in two or three weeks. These things are pretty spontaneous unless we're hiring the ass-and-pussy. Most times we just meet at someone's house for drinks and an orgy. You've got plenty of time to get him ready to be the centerpiece. The next time we bring in paid cock won't be until the fall equinox."

"Uh, since I've only been to one as hired fun, I'm not a member, am I? And if I'm not, what about Mark?"

"Mark was my guest, not a member. And you're right, so long as we're paying to pork you, you don't get to come to the members' only nights. Besides, you two are too young, yet. In a few years you will get a very subdued invitation in the mail and there will be a mysterious initiation. Of course by then probably every member in the group will have fucked both of you numerous times. We don't usually invite pro's to join but you two are just going to be hobby whores. Membership is inevitable, once we get tired of paying you."

Marilyn choked on her wine, laughing. Once she was calmed down and able to breathe again she snickered and said, "Hobby whores! What a great phrase. Shirley, I'll be up front with you. Whoring isn't something I'm all that new at. Several of us in the dorms back on campus decided that if men were silly enough to pay us for doing what we liked anyway, we'd take the money. To be honest, it was a bit of a revelation. Any woman can be a street walker but if you want to make serious money in the call-girl business, it's a different world. I did that for—oh, a year and a half. I regret nothing but being a hobby-whore is a much better idea."

"I know. One of the members recognized you and told me later. He said you were one of the few pieces of ass he paid for that was worth every cent. If he'd known then what he knows now, you'd be his wife instead of Mark's."

"Oh gawd, I knew I recognized one of the voices that night. I was afraid it was one of my high school teachers or something. Good thing it was an old client."

"Uh, honey a couple of your old high school teachers are members and both of then fucked you royal that Friday. Leonard Seems told me it was the culmination of endless daydreams about you."

"Mr. Seems? Oh, shit! I wondered why he never looked me in the eye when he spoke to me. I thought he was just shy. I had no idea he was staying in control of himself. Poor man, I should have seduced him the day I turned eighteen. Such a sweet person, I'm glad he had fun. I'll have to make up to him when I get the chance. Anyway, you wanted to know about the next time I fucked Mark."

Shirley looked at her watch. "Yes, I do, but it will have to keep. I've got a meeting with Parks and Recreation in twenty minutes. We'll just put this on my private tab and talk again later."

On a warm Saturday morning Mark Sylvestre sat in his trunks sipping coffee. The pool looked inviting but he wasn't ready for that just yet. The lawn was freshly mowed, most of the weeds had been pulled and there was nothing in particular that he needed to do so he did nothing. Just sitting in the sun was so pleasant that he half dozed off. And being half asleep explained why he never heard Marilyn walking up behind him and had no idea she was there until the scent of frangipani perfume woke him up. At the same time, hands covered his eyes so he had no warning when a warm, naked body plumped itself on his lap and eager lips pressed against his.

"Mmm . . . Mr. Sylvestre, you are just too delicious, especially with a light coating of salty sweat. You smell hot and that makes me hot. What should I do about that?"

Mark grabbed a full breast in one hand and a firm buttock in the other. The coffee cup fell away, unheeded. "I can think of several things and all of them would be fun. Shall I take you inside or just let you have it right here on the grass?"

"Out here? Where a neighbor on a stepladder could see us? You'll have to earn that one, Mr. Sylvestre." She stood aside and dropped to her knees. "Off with the trunks, stud, I want a good, long look."

When he complied, Marilyn let out a slow, appreciative whistle. "You know, darling, I really think you ought to take up triathlons."

That comment threw Mark completely off course. "What? Triathlons? What in Hell for?"

"Because cyclists shave their legs to prevent infections when they crash and swimmers shave all over for greater streamlining in the water. Most importantly, I can get about twenty percent more for you if you're smooth and oiled." She grabbed him by the balls and started to suck on his semi-aroused cock.

Mark would have liked to pursue the question forming in his mind but his wife's skilled oral sex so distracted him that he forgot about it completely. He grabbed her hair and began to thrust down her throat in a steady rhythm.

Knowing that she had him where she wanted him, Marilyn withdrew and disengaged his hands. She lay back on the grass, spread her thighs and raised her arms in invitation. At once, Mark was on her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder blades and her legs around his hips. Then he was inside her and she clamped down, holding him, treasuring him, crooning happily to be so penetrated, so held, so possessed.

Yes

, she remembered the phrase,

other playmates but only one lover!

Sunday morning, as was his custom, Mark woke up earlier than his wife and began making breakfast. Once the bacon was crisp, the oranges squeezed, the coffee filtered and the pancakes piled up and buttered, he called Marilyn out for breakfast on the patio. When all was reduced to empty dishes, cups and glasses, he fixed a glare into his well-beloved's green eyes. "Now, getting back to those comments you made yesterday, just what do you mean you can get twenty percent more for me if I'm smooth and oiled?"

Marilyn smiled sweetly, moistened her napkin and dabbed his lips. Then she planted a long, hot kiss on them. "You have in your personal bank account some five thousand dollars that you received for the use of my body by at least twenty different very lusty, perhaps even depraved people. Simple justice requires that I do the same with you. And, to be honest, because fit, virile young men available for sexual hire are less common than compliant, receptive young women, guys demand a premium. You got five grand for me but Shirley says that your price will be at least sixty-five hundred and if you're shaved, tanned and oiled in something like patchouli, the price is more like seventy-eight hundred. So, though the next party where the group, whoever they are, will be hiring entertainment isn't until November, you are going to start preparing to be one of the centerpieces."

"I am?" Mark's voice was flat and emotionless.

Marilyn's eyes narrowed and her jaw muscles tightened. She leaned forward across the table. "You are!"

Taken aback by the vehemence of her response, Mark froze and thought furiously before going on. After opening and closing his mouth twice, he finally stammered, "Well, I suppose it's only fair and I probably do have it coming. But do you seriously think anyone but the most desperate—uh—person would lay out good money to be fucked by me?"

Marilyn relaxed. She'd won. Now she needed to build him up for the deed. "Mr. Sylvestre, you are, to quote Truman Capote, 'an object of desire'. Remember the old Coke commercial where all the office women dive for the window when the construction worker takes off his shirt for his morning break? That's what goes on in City Hall when you're outside cutting and fitting stone. And I have on good authority that even men who consider themselves straight are willing to make an exception in your case. No, the people ready to pay for your 'services' aren't desperate; they're connoisseurs of the flesh."

"Hercule fucked me, didn't he?"

"I told you I'd never tell you one way or another. 'Never' isn't over yet."

"I don't want to know. And if I'm going to get buggered by some other man, I don't want to know it either. If that's what I'm being rented out for, there has to be a blindfold."

Marilyn smiled sweetly. "Well, of course, honey. I knew you'd feel that way and that's what I'll insist on. All you need to do is enjoy the way it feels, not worry about who's making you feel that way."

"And I'm not sucking anyone off, blindfold or not."

Marilyn pursed her lips in thought. "I don't see any problem with that. I'll get it in writing. 'All same sex contact requires a blindfold. Fellatio not provided.' Everyone will understand. Now, about those triathlons, there's a local club that meets at the high school the fourth Wednesday of each month. That's this coming Wednesday. You go and sign up. Work out a training schedule and start talking about it so that everyone knows why you suddenly started shaving all over. It will make sense to your crew and, just incidentally, raise the temperature on the second floor of City Hall by a good ten degrees."

"You're not joking? About the second floor, I mean?"

"What? You want me to take a video on my cell phone as proof? Just thinking about it is raising mine right now. Go get clean and bend over the foot of the bed. I've got a new outfit I think you'll like . . ."