TWELTH NIGHT
He came twice in that first hour. I didn't. I again counted the first money I'd earned as a professional called Debbi Draper, and smiled to myself. He paid me for what I'd given him for free for years. A good business principle. Reuse. You've got it. You sell it. You've still got it. With my husband as my first fucking client, I'd become a whore. An escort. A call girl. A harlot. A prostitute. Sticks and stones. An easy woman who for cash in hand will ease you inside her. Meaningless cock pulsing in pussy. I could take it, like I always had.
Now for the rest of my life, for me, my indepence, my pleasure.
FIRST DAY
It was by accident and carelessness I'd first woken up to what was happening. He'd left a suit out. It looked like it needed to go to the cleaners. So I thought I'd better check the trouser pockets. There was the expected handkerchief in one. In the other was a crumpled pair of black lacey knickers. I was taken aback - but why should they be mine, I didn't wear such things. I sat down hard on the bed. In a daze I turned the offending flimsies over and over. I'd never owned anything that....brazen. My mind started to race. I saw that they were soiled in the crotch area. Hardly thinking I raised the garment to my nose. The aroma was....different. Not my smell. Not his. Some other woman's. The penny dropped.
He'd been having sex with another woman. What did this mean? He still slept in my bed. Sometimes he mounted me for an unsatisfactory fuck (for me). I'd never refused him except at the time of the month. So....
What did I want?
SECOND DAY
I'd been distant last evening. Joined up thoughts refused to come. I'd made and served him a meal. Like a housekeeper. I'd watched television without seeing anything. I complained of a headache, took a long bath, absent mindedly fingered myself without a climax. My mind raced round in circles. He came to bed later, I feigned sleep.
This morning, more of the same. After he left for work, I sat holding the knickers. Sniffing them. Something started to stir "down below". I stripped off my usual practical night dress. Why had I never bought something appealing, sexy even?! started to rub myself.The warmth travelled from my groin. The climax, when it came,wasn't huge. But it was all my own work. And somewhat more pleasure than most times when he mounted me and came inside me. All stickiness, no satifaction. That was food for thought....I prowled the bedroom, naked. Decided that in the absence of trust, no trust was owed. So I started to search thoroughly.
Later, made a couple of telephone appointments, found an instant print place that ran off 100 business cards for me for a few pounds while I waited.
THIRD DAY
I'd found out more yesterday. But still come to no conclusion, although like a long-delayed orgasm I could feel it coming.
As soon as the cheat left - probably grumpy because I'd contrived to be in the toilet, complaining of stomach pains, when he had to go - I went upstairs and stripped off again. Looked at some porn on my phone. All those girls writhing around while being fucked by big dicks. Real or fake? No matter. This time my orgasm was a little more satisfying. I decided I deserved more.
So I called my hairdresser for an emergency appointment. There, the chatter amongst the younger women was about men, as I'd thought it might be. And the fit new masseur at a recently opened gym. Normally I ignored these bird brains. But somehow the raging hormones I'd stirred up got to me. So I had most of my hair chopped off. I wanted a man who'd use it to hold me down, not the inconvenience of the long locks he liked.
Now I had to move fast. I walked to a nearby coffee bar, practicing walking with more swing of the hips than usual. Practicing flaunting it....
Online I found a locksmith who sounded like he might be a bit younger. Davey's Unlocker. I spoke trying to sound more attractive than hassled house-wife. After promising "extra incentive" he agreed to come round this afternoon. I went to the bank and shopping.
While he was fitting the lock onto the big bedroom door, I edged past him. He tried to stand to leave me. Don't worry I said, you keep going while I change. He swallowed. I couldn't / wasn't going to close the door on him. "Incentive time" I breathed. "Deal or no deal?"
Pouting I look at him waiting for his answer. He sat back and nods, "but you have to do a strip dance and take your clothes off slowly." Music was playing on his phone - Freak like me. Looking at him I slowly move my hips. Swaying back and forth, while I reach up and unclip my strapless bra. Pull it out from under my blouse I hold it up. Walking in a small circle I throw it towards the doorway, smiling. I place my foot up on the bed, slowly I slide my hand down my side. Pull down my zipper, then run my hand teasingly up my leg. Showing a little bit of my skin.
I place my other foot on the edge of the bed and repeat the process. I'm now only in a blouse and skirt. Reaching back I slowly start to pull the zipper down. I turn around so he can see. Turning back around I let ago, I let the skirt slip down. I had been pantiless all day. My blouse is only covering up to half of my stomach. I pull it up and over my head. I walk over, slowly kneeling and undo his pants. Pulling his cock out, I slide my mouth over it.
"So, we have a deal? Blowjob, no invoice, services rendered, payment with a mouthful of cum?" He nods eagerly
Slowly moving back and forth, taking inch by inch. Pressing my lips against his cock. Licking all the way down and all the way back up. Scraping my teeth against his cock lightly. Adding pressure as he moans lightly. I pick up pace slightly as I moan to encourage him, but looking up, like a good whore. Taking him as deep into my by now drooling slightly mouth, I listened to his moans and groans as I keep a steady pace. He stroked my hair : "shit I'm close. Can I fuck you?" "Yes, but not today. And my hourly rate is more than yours." My blowing turns into his face fucking. I use more pressure and flick my tongue once more. He shoots hot thick ropes of cum into my mouth. I "swirled the sperm" Not bad tasting, so I made a big show of swallowing.
I wrote my number on the discarded bra and tucked it into his trousers. Too expensive even though a great sales aid. Also fondled his balls while putting a business card in his pocket.
Job done without cash outflow. Seemed like classic small business capital conservation. Environmentally friendly with organic fluids recycled.
I was ready for the showdown when I heard quick-dick trying to put a key in the door. It was obvious I was home. Eventually he rang the bell, furious.
"Come in, shut up, sit down there." He was taken aback that I was so forceful. And my new haircut. He looked where I had indicated he should sit. He saw the black knickers, the packet of three condoms, the credit card slip. He started to bluster. "Sit" I commanded. "Drink this" I passed him a glass of red wine.
"I know what you've been doing. I'm not going to discuss anything. But there are consequences.
A - you are sleeping in the spare room tonight. I've put your stuff from my bedroom - which now has a lock on it - in there, along with a couple of cases. You leave with them in the morning and never come back. My solicitor will send the divorce papers to your office. He's a friend of my Dad, who I'll also be telling on the phone. As you know, they both play golf with your boss. Especially given your recent performance, I expect you to be out of a job by the end of the week. And by the way, I've taken half the money out of the joint bank accounts.
There's a B. Do you want time to think about A?
No?
You stay on as a nominal husband. When essential, I'll still be with you in public. In private, the spare room is now yours. I'll come and go as I please with no explanation. You don't interfere with my life, you'll do your agreed share of the household work, you'll pay household expenses.
You know I've changed the locks. I've also taken out half the money from the joint bank accounts as a down payment on the divorce.
Oh - the good news - maybe - is you can still fuck me on a Sunday night. Except I'll be charging you by the hour.
But I will want a full confession in your own writing by midnight, including who you've been fucking. That's the insurance policy against you welching on the deal.
There's a cheese sandwich in the fridge if you want it. I'm going out now, I'm taking your car but it will be back in a few hours. I'll expect the confession on the table then, or that your suitcases have gone in the morning."
FOURTH DAY
The confession was there when I returned from a wine bar. I didn't look at it.
After he left I went to a local coffee bar and read it at leisure. In some ways a pathetic document. He'd been wanked off in a massage place. Paid a prostitute who advertised online for a straight fuck, and bought her panties after she wiped herself on them. Had kissed a woman at the office and was trying to get into her knickers (hence the condoms) He begged for forgiveness. Too late.
So to the gym to see if I could see the young stud so admired by the airheads. He was indeed a piece of beefcake. He was strutting amongst the women who were fluttering at him. I was stirred, maybe becoming a little moist. That was a change..... As I walked past him he scanned me up and down, smiled slightly as if he appreciated my figure.
This was a big boost to the ego and my libido reminding me I still had one.
My breasts (tits, as some men like to call them) are a C cup. "A handful" as such men will say when they don't think we're listening. Enough to surround a cock. Enough cleavage to take cum. Nipples big enough to be obvious when hard. I didn't necessarily need to wear a bra. The sort of tits men might fantasise about grabbing from behind while their hard cocks press into my arse.
At the desk I asked "Can he fit me in?", and it crossed my mind "can he fit in me? Is he fit enough to last through more than one orgasm?" I was offered a female masseuse on Monday, but I dismissed the offer with a wave of the hand. I got an appointment an hour hence. Perhaps surprisingly the young lady receptionist seemed to be touchy-feely.
I signed up for gym membership. Keeping fit was going to be essential. As well as the fringe attractions. Coffee from the machine, watched the fit and the fat, especially those with trim part clothed bodies, and tingled. When the hour came round, I went back towards the massage room. The cute young redhead said "He's expecting you" and smiled attractively.
I had made up a story about lower back pain to "explain" the urgency, and walked past her to the massage rooms. When the younger man came in, I gave my most winning smile. "oh, you haven't taken your clothes off yet"
"I wondered if you'd like to be my audience".
