Friday 8.05 a.m.
"How you feeling babe?" were the first words my husband said to me as I stumbled, bleary eyed into the kitchen on the Friday morning.
"Ugh don't ask... tired... and a bit sore." Wrapping my robe around me, I complained, as I dropped into a chair.
He grinned and passed me a mug of steaming life's elixir otherwise known as coffee.
"Well Tyrell did give you a bloody good shafting."
Looking up at him my eyes widened, "And you didn't? I seem to recall that you took your turn after he had gone and then you had me again in the shower."
"Sorry. But seeing him fucking you really turned me on."
I had known it would.
Chris doesn't get the opportunity to see me with customers very often but Tyrell is one big exception. He likes being watched, so my husband being there and becoming aroused by it wasn't a surprise.
"You're just a pervert." I couldn't help but smile at him.
We lapsed into silence for a minute or two while I drank my coffee.
"So, anything planned for today?" Chris asked me breaking the quiet mood as I sat in the kitchen staring at nothing while he stood up, ready to leave for work that morning.
"Not today no." I sighed, idly playing with my cup, "No one wants me."
"None of your regulars?" he raised an eyebrow questioningly, "Isn't that unusual?"
Shaking my head, I replied, "Yes, it is, I thought Hugh Penfold might be back but there's absolutely nothing. I'm unwanted."
"Very strange." he took another sip of his drink, "So what do you think you'll do with your day?"
I frowned as I considered his question, "To be honest I'm not sure. I might go shopping or I could head over to the airport hotel later. Maybe I'll find a bored business man to entertain."
"Well, whatever you decide don't forget we've got that party at the Harper's house tomorrow afternoon." he reminded me as he slipped on his jacket.
I sighed even louder, rolling my eyes.
I made it a rule to try to avoid socialising with my customers whenever I could.
However, it wasn't always possible.
Derek Harper had been a regular for quite some time and I always found it difficult chatting with someone who was paying to fuck me once a week. That said it was even harder talking to his wife Margaret in a social situation where he was also around.
In addition, there were also likely to be a few more of my regulars at the Harper's party tomorrow. It promised to be a challenging time for me to say the least.
"Do we have to go?" I pleaded with my husband hoping he would say no, although I already knew he wouldn't.
"They're our next-door neighbours we have to. It would be really rude not to turn up." He stated the obvious.
"Yes, but don't you find it awkward, chatting to them when... well you know?"
"When they're paying to fuck you, you mean?" he looked at me enquiringly.
I blushed and giggled, "Well.... yeah."
He grinned, "I'm married to the town whore. If that doesn't bother me then why would talking to them?"
"Oh, I don't know. It's just I find it kind of difficult. Talking to Margaret about whatever when I keep thinking that Derek was screwing me in their bed just a couple of days ago." I admitted honestly.
Chris didn't reply, just stood up and, looked at his watch as he finished his coffee, "I have to go. I'll see you tonight."
With that he kissed my cheek and was gone.
Friday 9.09 a.m.
After my husband had left for work, I sat and finished my coffee before wandering back upstairs to take a bath and try to make a decision about the day, as I relaxed in the tub.
Dropping my robe, I slid into the deep bubble bath enjoying the feel of the warm water on my body. It was especially soothing on my tender labia which were still a little sore from the energetic fucking that Tyrell and my husband had given me the previous evening.
The day was mine to do with as I wanted and, after thinking it through, I decided that I would pay a visit to the airport hotel.
I knew I should get on with some housework, especially the ironing, but I hadn't been across town for ages and I thought that maybe I would give it a try.
I could just to see how things were over there I decided, and if I did find myself a bored businessman while I was looking the place over then the day might not be a total loss.
Getting there before lunchtime would be a pointless exercise, however, so I took my time in the bath, washing my hair and shaving my vulva to make sure it was a smooth as possible.
Friday 9.58 a.m.
Eventually, with the water getting cold, I rather reluctantly climbed out of the tub. Then, after drying myself off, I wrapped my hair in a towel and made my way back into my bedroom.
Leaving my blonde mane to dry, I did my long nails. Removing my normal vivid scarlet colouring that I had on and carefully re-painting them a sultry jet black.
After letting the nail varnish set, I sat in front of my mirror and spent the best part of 25 minutes to properly blow-dry my long blonde hair. That done I spent another 15 putting it up on top of my head and teasing out several long strands to get it looking just the way I wanted.
Finally satisfied, I turned my attention to the next part of my preparations.
Friday 11.07 a.m.
It was still a little too early to be heading for the hotel bar so, not needing to rush, I occupied myself experimenting with my make-up. Putting on my usual false eyelashes and mascara I changed my eyeshadow to a deep smokey grey and then spent another next ten minutes, staring in the mirror, deciding that I did quite like it.
I took my time dressing as well; rolling black seamed stockings up my legs and attaching them to my red satin suspender belt. After that I slipped on the matching panties before looking in my wardrobe and selecting what I was going to wear.
Settling on a vivid red cocktail dress I stepped into it and pulled it up, fastening the zipper up the back. It was short, barely covering my stocking tops, not the sort of thing you could decently wear during the day. However, for soliciting for business in a hotel bar it was the perfect length.
The garment was sleeveless, with a fairly revealing neckline that was held together with three buckles between my breasts. My chest isn't large and I really need a proper push-up bra if I want to have a decent cleavage so exposing my tits in this way was a good alternative.
My black 3" strappy stiletto heels completed what I hoped was a slightly classy, very slutty look.
I took a last look at myself in the mirror and, deciding I was ready, I set off for the airport hotel.
Friday 11.47 a.m.
Picking up my bag and my car keys I stepped out of the front door, locking it behind me, and slipped behind the wheel of my mini.