1 Home & Again
I woke up first, it took me way too long to work out where, why and what day it was. It was Saturday morning wasn't it? Then the memories from last night came flooding back. To tell the truth, I hadn't slept all that well, full of worry that she was okay. What had the experience of last night done to her? And, most importantly, what on Earth was the illicit drug that she smoked? I almost had a heart attack when I looked up 'chalk' and found out that it was a street name for Methamphetamine. Luckily, I found out that it was maybe also a street name for other stuff, however, none of it really helped me relax.
The thing that really hit me though was the worrying fact that something about it excited me too. So much so that I nearly wanked off again in bed thinking about it. My devious mind raced around the idea of my beautiful, safe, moral, wife becoming somewhat dependent on hardcore drugs. My mind darted from seeing her in rehab, to hospital and even death, to being the life of a party, to dressing provocatively and not conforming to anything that society wants us to be. It all scared me enough to know that we needed to avoid that downward path, however, my hard dick said that it was going to be a tough road ahead as I was already starting to feel its impact in a positive way.
When Emily was eventually awake enough, she threw the duvet away and looked down at her body. I wondered if she caught the pussy and sex smell that instantly emanated from her. It was something new, another thing that I liked, to go with the sexy little outfit that she still had, sort of, on. She tutted at herself, moaned about her head hurting, and crawled into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
I would have usually followed her in and ran the shower for one of us but her locking the door was a sign: "Privacy, please." I switched the TV on to watch a bit of nothing and to drown out the usual morning bathroom sounds. Trying to clear my mind, I stood up and moved around the small room, noticing that the street below was empty of everything. Even at 9:40 AM on a Saturday morning, this part of the planet was still hibernating.
My mind's eye took me forward to tonight, I could see my wife standing down there buying her next hit off those wayward peddlers. Her nervous hand shaking as both the need and the reality of her ungodly situation taking hold of her as if she was a puppet, controlled by some outward force. She hands over the cash, excited as she buys the packet of illegal drugs. I shake my head to try to remove the vision, my cock hard in my pants. It's strange that the prostitution has taken a back seat to this crazy new train of thought.
I can't help as another vision pops into my head. This time it's in this hotel room. She's here with a few people, there's music playing, and she's smoking the drugs. They're all dancing, plenty of flesh on display. My wife is clearly high, stoned, spun... I dunno the right term. She's dancing close to another man, they're touching, his hand is holding her naked tit. She's letting him, loving the feelings, not a care in the world.
Shit, I have to stop this in my head. It surely can't lead to anything positive.
Little was said over the next hour or so between us. She looked tired. We checked out of the hotel, walked to the car, past the spot where the women would no doubt return that night. The rest of the day was normal, though she took a good few hours to come round. It was like she was in a serious mood. I was really starting to regret it all. She spent time sleeping, moping about, sulking, and overall being horrible to be around. Not my usual happy wife at all.
At about 6 PM she seemed to snap out of it, like a switch had been clicked somewhere. My wife was back. She was smiling, jokey, we even squeezed in a little small talk about last night and how bad it was. It was nice to have her back; I had started to get worried. It's amazing how fickle our minds are as, very quickly, I was starting to think back to our fucking last night, what she did and how it made both of us feel.
At about 8 PM I looked up from my laptop where I was fiddling with some work rubbish, not really able to concentrate. Emily hadn't been settled in the last hour or so. She was on her mobile with the TV on, but something was not quite right with her, she was agitated, maybe a bit restless as if she wanted to launch herself into something but was in two minds, back and forth should I, shouldn't I?
"Hey, babes." She looked up at me. "You ok?"
She scrunched her face, "Yer," and then looked straight down at her mobile screen.
I paused for a moment watching her. She looked back up at me and held my gaze. I didn't want to break the spell, I knew what was in my mind and was sure she was thinking the same thing. "You sure you're okay?"
She didn't nod, smile, or acknowledge me at all, she just held my gaze. I couldn't help myself, I didn't want to sit here all night like this. I spat it out, "Do you want to go back there?" I didn't need to say where.
I saw it in her eyes; there was no expression on her face but her eyes glinted like twinkling stars in an inky black night. I nodded, letting her know I'd seen it. I had questions for her, but I didn't know where to start. Something in me didn't want any answers. I didn't want to know what her plans were or why. I think we both knew that we'd talk ourselves out of whatever it was. We didn't want to admit that we both wanted this. My mind was running wild with questions and worry, but at the same time my dick was getting hard.
We held the gaze as I started to think about Lyn and her attempted protection of Emily. How she was friendly and mothering almost, even though she was most definitely younger than my wife. But she had sex for money. That woman had sex with strangers for money. Men got to see most if not all of her body naked, they played with her tits and put their cocks inside her pussy. They were likely nasty to her, came and gave her money and left. Then she did it again. Crazy. Crazy hot.
Then Jane came to mind, having the same sex as her friend and how she started my wife on drugs. Meth of all things, shit. Right now as I thought about it again, my cock throbbed. Looking at my wife sitting in front of me, gob smacked at the fact that she's smoked meth, twice. Something in me liked that, I didn't know why, I knew it was stupid. Really stupid. But I couldn't help how it made me feel.
Fuck! I wanted my wife to be friends with these people. What was wrong with me? What was I expecting to happen?
I couldn't help it, my cock had grown trapped by my pants, it was uncomfortable. I adjusted it. I had to. She saw it. She nodded and looked down at her phone. Frantic typing before she stood up. Looking me in the eye, she simply said, "Let's go," and she walked out of the room.
I heard keys, I saw the blink of our car lights, heard the door of the house and then a few moments later the car door. I was now even more confused. We had no hotel room? She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt only. I don't think she'd picked up a bag or anything like that. What was the plan? Was she sitting in the car waiting for me? Waiting for me to take her back there? To do what?
Fuck, my cock was already starting to go down as confusion set it. Even if I didn't want to, I needed to speak to her. To understand the plan. Closing my laptop and putting it to one side I stood and walked to the door. There on the side were the keys, so that meant that she was likely sitting in the passenger seat waiting for me. Even more perplexed, I picked them up and begrudgingly walked outside to the car.
Opening the car door, I was about to ask her a question when she simply said, "Lock the house up, let's go."
I didn't move, leaning down into the car looking at her. But she was looking at her phone, typing something. "Babe what's going on?"
She didn't look up, simply telling me to, "Lock up," again.
I sighed, "Love I get it, but the hotel room? Clothes? Money? Bag?" I wanted to tag more onto that list. But it was stuff I couldn't say myself.
Condoms.
I couldn't let on that I knew we should be sensible. This surely wasn't going in that direction but we should be sensible. She looked up at me, smiled, "It's okay, I'm sorting everything."
What the fuck does that mean? What's everything? Again we held our gaze. Fuck! this didn't make sense. She looked back down at her phone and started doing stuff again. I took a breath.
Oh fuck it.
Let's see where this adventure goes. I returned to the house, locked it up and we headed back to the dangerous part of town.
2 Interesting Travel
I was surprised when on the way she apparently called the hotel, told them a strange story about me, and within minutes had the same room booked for us. She was decidedly efficient, I was pleasantly surprised. Maybe she was actually 'sorting it all'. Though again I didn't really know what that meant. A few times I opened my mouth to ask her something but each time I knew I didn't want the answer.
With the ideas and questions spinning around in my head, I had to at least try. "Babes, what are we going there for?" A quick glance in her direction but she didn't look up from her phone. That pissed me off, so I pushed, "Honey this is crazy. They're prostitutes. They take drugs. They have risky sex with strangers. Why are we doing this? What's the plan?"
This time I heard a huff from her. Another glance across and she was looking ahead, I added, "I love you honey, I'm worried."
I felt her turn to me, eyeballing me as I tried to concentrate on the driving. There was a strange silence for a moment before she pointed out, "They're sex workers, Chris."
What the fuck! That was her answer? I wanted to shake my head and yell at her but instead found myself nodding. I mean she was correct but she'd missed the point really. She then added, "Did you enjoy the sex last night?"
I answered quickly and emphatically, "Yes!, God yes babes! " I then instantly realised how that sounded, almost too desperate. I quickly back peddled, "I mean, I.. weee." I glanced at her, she was smiling. I smiled back, I wanted to know more. "But you don't want to ..."
She finished my sentence, "Be a sex worker? No."
I think I breathed a sigh of relief, "Then why?"
"No, I don't want to be a sex worker. We're lucky."
I don't know what that meant at all. "Lucky?"