Virgin Gigolo

"Going to work tonight?" I asked, reaching over and caressing Robin's bare breast, my fingers naturally closing onto her nipple.

"Uhm, yeah," she responded, stretching both arms above her head before rolling towards me. I raised my arm over her body, and she snuggled into me. I had just made love to my wife and she had, in effect, told me that she was going to fuck someone else that night -- for money.

We had discussed sex outright in the past. What positions "we" liked. What

really

turned us on, or turned us off -- and we both admitted that

talking

about

fucking

with others for a living was somewhat of a turn-off. Instead, we somehow naturally began referring to paid sex as 'our work,' or 'going to work,' or 'making a living.' Perhaps it was just a euphemism. Perhaps it was hiding from the truth. Or, perhaps, it was just like any other couple. We get up, go to work, come home, have dinner, pay the bills, go to bed, have sex with our spouse, sleep, wake up, and do it again tomorrow. We don't necessarily tell our spouse

all

about what we did as an electrician, plumber, mechanic, or insurance saleswoman -- just that we 'went to work.' We know that the electrician

may

have handled some dangerous wires, we know that the plumber

may

have had his hands in raw sewerage, we know that the investment banker

may

have handled a two hundred and fifty million dollar investment today, but for the most part we don't talk about those things. More often than not, when we got together, our opening words were "How was your day?"

Usually, I went to work during the day, although sometimes it was in the evenings, and occasionally I worked all night. Robin, more commonly, went to work in the evenings, and about half the time when she did that, she wouldn't get home until the following morning, but the other half it was almost always midnight or later. A couple of the big spenders would pay her to go away with them for a full weekend, and at least once for a full week, and those several-day gigs were quite lucrative. My most common income stream was in $500 minimum payments, usually only once a day. A couple of times I had an early or mid-day customer and then an evening or nighttime customer later, but no more than two a day at the most. When I was a teen and not getting sex at all, I could masturbate multiple times in a day, but now that I was providing a sexual service, I had to admit I really couldn't do it more than that in a day. When a woman is paying you to get her off with a hard cock, you'd better be able to provide a hard cock. Robin's income streams were always greater, seldom were they less than several multiples of the minimum. Two thousand for a night was common, and many times she went away with a high roller for a long weekend -- or sometimes more.

The interesting thing, and what many can't understand, was that neither of us ever had any qualms about our spouse 'cheating' or having an affair. We recognized that sex was different than love before we got married. And while we

knew

we were each having sex with other people, our

love

for each other was exclusive. There was no room for jealousy in our relationship.

~

"Brent's Tree, Yard and Maintenance..." I answered when the phone rang, and I saw an unknown number.

"Is this Brent?" an unknown male voice questioned in return.

Immediately I cringed. Although I'd continued playing regularly with Paul and Lindsey, if it hadn't been for Lindsey and her wanting Paul there whenever we played, I would have just hung up with a "Sorry, wrong number." Lindsey was sexy; admittedly I could get a hard-on thinking about or playing with her and had no trouble doing so. She could suck me, I could eat her, we would fuck each other, and I had no problem with any of that. Paul, on the other hand, now regularly sucked my cock with Lindsey watching, usually sharing a mouthful of cum with Lindsey if he sucked it out of me. Although thinking about doing so did nothing for me beforehand, with my eyes closed it was hard to tell whether it was Lindsey's mouth or Paul's that was providing a tongue slithering around my glans. And, on a couple of different occasions, I'd ended up with Paul's cock in my mouth. I'd closed my eyes, blocked it out of my mind, and then charged them double for the session. They'd never balked at paying and Lindsey always told me how hot that was for her seeing Paul's cock in my mouth.

"This is Brent," I warily answered the query. "How can I help you?"

"I'd like to hire you for a night."

Oh fuck.

My mind ran cold at the thought, but for some reason, I didn't just hang up. "Uhm, I take it I was referred by someone?" It wasn't as if my phone number was pasted on grocery store bulletin boards around town, so he must have gotten it from somewhere. Perhaps I was wrong, but I gave it a chance.

"Yeah. Melissa said I should tell you that she gave me your number."

"Ah," I responded, as if that explained everything. But then, Melissa of all people, should know that I normally had no desire to be servicing men, which meant perhaps it was something else. "Yeah, but um, she doesn't normally refer men to me."

"Oh, I don't want you for me. It's for my wife."

"You want to hire me, to uh... do some... yard maintenance for your wife?" I never used explicit language on the phone. Even though it was supposedly private, in today's day and age, we never know who might be listening in.

"Yeah, sort of." His answer wasn't telling me much.

"Sort of? What does that mean?"

It was a pregnant silence before he said, "It's sort of a long story..."

"OK. Want to try me? I'm not going anywhere." I had been in the kitchen heading to get a soda when the call had come in. Having ascertained that this wasn't going to be a thirty-second conversation, I moved on to the refrigerator and found a Coke.

"I uhm... that is, my wife and I are coming up on our seventh anniversary, next week. We were together for four years before we got married, so unofficially it's been 11 years since either of us has been with someone else."

I waited just momentarily when he stopped talking. "And she wants to have an affair," I prodded, having long before learned that it was a lot easier to keep the conversation from stagnating with a little verbal feedback.

"No, actually I do."

"You want to have an affair, so you're hiring me to... be with your wife?"

Again, he didn't answer immediately. I was about to say something else to prod him when he sighed. "God, I love my wife. She's a great lover, the yin to my yang. She's been everything to me for almost 11 years now... but..."

"But?" I repeated.

"We have always shared our fantasies and desires. And my fantasy has always been a threesome with two women. She's had some really hot girlfriends over the years. I've had some really hot co-workers over the years, too. She'd always ask who it was that I dreamed of a threesome with, but she's always said there was no way with any of those people."

"But now she's for it?"

"We'd both get aroused talking about things like that, but she never showed any signs of really desiring anything like that for herself. And then, a couple of months ago just out of the blue, she mentioned that one of her friends said her husband set them up with one of his friends in a threesome and she told my wife it was the hottest thing she'd ever done. She wouldn't tell me which of her friends she was talking about, but her friend told her about being spit roasted, sucking her husbands' cock while his friend fucked her doggie style, and it seems that somehow that struck my wife's fantasy. She'd never shared a desire with me for

anything

like that before, but the sex that night was as hot as anything in recent years. She finally admitted that the idea of sucking a cock and being fucked at the same time had really set her off. I told her that was almost exactly the same fantasy that I had, except with two women."

"So, you agreed?" I queried.

"Not right then. She was still in the "it's just fantasy, and I don't

really

want to do anything like that," but for the next couple of weeks, just about every time we had sex, she ended up on all fours with me doing her from behind. I kept teasing her about whose cock she was thinking about sucking while I was doing her, and she finally admitted it didn't matter, that her fantasy was of being fucked doggie by me while she was sucking someone else and then swapping places and sucking me while being fucked by someone else. When I confronted her and asked who she was fantasizing about, she said it had to be someone we didn't know, it couldn't be anyone from work or any of our friends, but for the first time, she gave an inkling that

just maybe

she'd

really

like to do that.

"I was a bit leery of that type of arrangement, too," he continued. "It was one thing to think about a woman joining us, it wouldn't mean anything -- it would just be hot sex for me, but I couldn't stomach the thought of someone else that we knew fucking my wife. She said she understood, that's exactly how she thought about

me

fucking another woman. I finally told her 'OK, I'll make arrangements, but if I do, you have to make arrangements for a woman to join us some other time.' I didn't expect she'd say yes, after talking about it for 10 years, but she said 'OK.' I was shocked, but when I said 'Really?' she said, 'He's got to be young and handsome, and he's going to spend the night with me. I want to suck his cock while you fuck me, and then you're going to go away and leave us all night long. And then you're going to make us breakfast in bed, and I'm going to fuck him one last time before he goes home. Maybe I'll let you join us and I'll suck your cock while he fucks me that last time.' I still wasn't quite sure I liked this idea, but she convinced me if I ever wanted my threesome fantasy, that was the cost."

I didn't say anything for a moment, although he was obviously done talking. "You got a name?"

"Jerry."

"OK, Jerry. How about your wife?"

"Becky. Rebecca."

"How old are you?"

"29. Becca is 28." I found myself nodding into the phone.

"I'm not into men. Normally it's $250 for an hour with a two-hour minimum. I don't normally get requests for all nights -- but I'll give you 12 hours for two grand. Call it 8 to 8. Since you're setting this up for your wife, I'll meet you for dinner wherever you decide. If the attraction is there, I'm in, but that's up to her. If not, I'll walk away for just the cost of the dinner. Since she wants breakfast in bed, it almost mandates your place. You'll get a hotel room for you to go to. If she wants you to leave, I'm sure it's that she doesn't want you watching or listening. She'll let loose if you're not there, but it will go south in a hurry if she thinks you're in the next room listening. I don't kiss, I don't do bareback, but other than that, almost anything she wants is OK with me." I could almost hear his head nodding over the phone. "You there?" I finally asked.

"Two Grand?" he responded.

"Two Grand," I confirmed.

~

Jerry had texted me a pic of himself and Rebecca, but I probably would have recognized them even without a picture. It was just after 6 when they walked into the steak house, two nearly 30-year-olds nervously looking around for someone. I stood from my table and raised a hand in greeting, and they walked toward me with Jerry just behind his wife. "Rebecca?" I said, offering a hand to her.

"Call me Becca."

"Got it. Jerry?" I said, shifting my hand to his, as he nodded and shook mine in return. "I stepped to the side with my back towards Jerry, purposely stepping between them and, as Becca slid into the booth, I slid in behind her. I saw she was a bit startled by this, obviously expecting to sit next to her husband. From that time on, Becca was the center of my attention, and Jerry was just a sideline -- a distraction really.

If there was a mutual attraction between us, it wasn't immediately identifiable as she was a bit uptight. But the conversation flowed easily as I concentrated on her. Every question I formed to let her answer, and if Jerry chimed in, I shifted the focus of the conversation back to his wife as soon as I could. I made no effort to touch or seduce her with anything, other than my words, to begin with. She ordered a margarita, Jerry had a Rum and Coke, and I ordered an iced tea. The waitress had indicated they needed to show some ID from the start, even though they were appreciably older than me, so I wasn't going to order anything hard. I don't think that either of them knew or had any idea that I was just months from being old enough to legally order a drink, but I wasn't taking any chances.

Becca was visibly nervous but, as we sat and talked, her nervousness eased. Facing her husband who was sitting opposite us on the other side of the table, she had to turn slightly to look at me. Having given Jerry the "dinner or else" option, I wasn't entirely sure Becca was going to buy into this and give the go-ahead until dinner was almost done when she lowered her napkin to her lap and then let her hand slide over onto my thigh. She didn't outright turn and look at me, but she looked at her hand on my leg and I detected a smile that said she liked where this was going. Jerry didn't notice at first, but when I leaned back and put my arm on the back of the seat around Becca, I saw his eyes do a double take as his eyes lighted on Becca's arm and recognized it was below the edge of the table, towards me, and not moving.

~

I asked to use the toilet when we got to their home. When I came out, Jerry was acting a bit nervous, and Becca was nowhere to be seen. "She went to change clothes," Jerry needlessly advised, while pouring himself a drink at their wet bar. When he asked if I wanted anything to drink, I advised him that just a glass of water would be fine.

Becca reappeared a few moments later, dressed in a white satin shorty robe ending mid-thigh. She stopped when she stepped into the room and just looked at me. I set my glass of water on the counter and turned back to her but, instead, she turned and walked to her husband. Putting her arms around his neck he bent, and she kissed him, after which I heard her whisper, "Are you sure?" He pulled back and looked her in the face, and asked her something, presumably if she wanted to go forward with this as I heard her answer "Yes." I saw his mouth form the words "I love you, baby," before gripping her arm and turning her to face me.

I stepped over behind her and put my hands on both of her arms. "We've never done anything like this before," she said, slowly melting back against me. I could see her eyes still on Jerry, who now wisely backed away.

"I know. Jerry told me," I answered. "We'll take this as fast or slow as you want, but I'm here for you and for the night." I turned her to face me, her hands rose to my arms as my hands slid between her breasts to the fold of the robe.

"Are you going to kiss me?"

I shook my head slowly. "No. Kissing is about love, and that's between you and Jerry. This is about sex." I grasped the edges of her robe, slowly spreading it open as my hands moved lower, the backs of my hands pressing against the curve of her breasts. The silky tie around her waist had been holding the robe closed, but with just a simple overhand knot, it easily slipped open with the slightest of pressure.

Slowly opening the robe, letting my eyes drift down, her bare neckline became visible first. The tops of her breasts gradually appeared, followed by the top of a sheer nightie beneath the robe. Thin spaghetti straps became visible on her shoulders, and finally, the robe belt slipped completely free, allowing me to part the robe. I lifted my hands back to her shoulders and pushed the robe backward. She rolled her shoulders and the robe dropped to the floor leaving her in just the sheer nightie and a matching gossamer panty. I let my eyes run up and down her body, my cock responding to yet another beautiful woman.

Becca areolas, large and dark brown, were clearly visible through the sheer material. Her breasts were as large as navel oranges; her areolas spreading over the entire face of her breasts. I hadn't noticed anything visible during dinner, but the two large buttons of her nipples were now pebbling up through the gossamer material. I slid my hands inward and underneath, hefting her tits slightly. As I let my thumbs find and caress her nipples, her entire body quivered in response to my fingers and thumbs closing upon them, her eyes momentarily closed and just accepting my caress.

Becca ran her hand up onto my chest, grasping my shirt and pulling it upward from out of my pants. I lifted my arms to let her slide my shirt off, her hands immediately coming back to stroke my chest. "Oh... So nice!" she whispered and bent forward to kiss my nipple. As she took it in her mouth, I grasped the edge of her nightie and raised it, slipping my own hands underneath and onto her bare breasts. Again, she quivered to my touch, but not as much as a moment later when I slid my hand over her belly, and found the edge of her panty, slipping my fingers inside to her sex.

Becca wasn't bare below but had neatly trimmed pubes above clean-shaven labia. A landing strip, probably an inch wide, guided me to her slit and clit, eliciting another shudder and gasp as I found her pleasure button. I pushed my finger down between her lips, finding that she was already totally wet.

Becca moved her mouth away from my nipple, looking over again to Jerry who I hadn't even been thinking about. Following her gaze, I found that Jerry had shed his shirt and pants, just dropping them to the floor while watching my hands caress his wife. He had his cock in his hand, extending through the slit in his underwear, slowly stroking himself. "Oh My God, baby," Becca said to Jerry, "he's going to make me cum..." and as I raised my finger back to her clit -- she did. She collapsed into me, her face against my chest, shudders running through her body as my finger strummed against it. I sensed it was enough for the moment, and withdrawing my finger and my hand from her panty I slipped my hand around to her bare bottom. "Nobody else has touched me like that since before we got married," she quietly said to my chest as I withdrew my hand from her panty and pulled her close.

"Hmm," I cooed in her ear, "you came so easily."

"Yeah, I don't normally but I've been turned on all evening."

Slightly recovered, a moment later she straightened and pulled back and her hands went to my belt and pants. As with many of my customers, she wanted to undress me, and I let her. I caught my shoes with the toe of the opposite foot and slipped them off; moments later her hands pushed my pants to the floor.

Once again, her mouth went to my chest, kissing my pecs and breasts while one hand gripped my now-freed erection. Gradually dropping to her knees, she pulled my cock to her mouth, letting her hands reach around to my ass and pulling me forward into her. Her lips and tongue engulfed and caressed my cock for just moments before she pulled away and rose. Without saying another word, she took my hand and headed into the bedroom. "Let me get my pants," I said, holding back slightly, "I've got to get condoms." I sensed Jerry following along but didn't look.

"We've got them, but you won't need them just yet," she said, not relinquishing her hold on my hand. Walking me up to their bed, she indicated I should sit against the headboard. Reaching down she slipped her panties off, dropping them on the floor, before climbing onto the bed and between my legs. On her hands and knees, her bare bottom was pointed away from me, and when Jerry didn't immediately move up behind her, she turned her head to look at him and said, "Do you need a written invitation, Baby?"