This narrative is part of a multi-part story that explores the sexual exploits of a Midwestern couple who wanted a change in locale, but are experiencing much, much more.
Warning: subject matter includes hotwife/cuckold/group sex topics. This story is tagged as such, so if you do not care for these types of tales, move on. You are your only enemy if you continue reading.
Those that do choose to continue, please know reading previous chapters will help you better understand the characters and their journey.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.
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Chapter 15
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December 23rd. Just over 2 months to go.
The ringtone echoed loudly from somewhere in the apartment, jostling Lauren from a deep sleep. Her heavy eyes slid open, then squinted in the morning sun. Curled next to her, facing the opposite direction with sheets pulled tightly to a pale neck, lay Chloe Morgan. The young stripper was fast asleep.
Swinging aching feet to the floor, the disheveled brunette rubbed her temples to mitigate the hangover that was clouding any semblance of clear thought. Not wishing to disturb the redhead, she gently lifted herself off the mattress and slowly stood, wobbling a bit until gaining confidence in her balance.
Lauren winced.
There it was again, that damn phone. Who the hell is calling so early?
Naked, she stumbled to the kitchen and fished the device from her purse just as it stopped ringing. It had been her daughter, Caroline. No surprise there; the girls often called on Saturday mornings to catch up. The real shocker was the time. Already eleven o'clock!
So, where the hell is Corey, and why didn't he answer the phone?
The couch where Jax had deposited her blacked-out husband some six hours prior was empty, the small blanket she'd thrown on him now lay neatly folded on one of the cushions. A half drank cup of coffee sat on the cutting board next to the dishwasher, and a suit bag was hanging neatly from a kitchen cabinet handle.
Of course! The interview! And I was supposed to help him get ready.
Lauren cursed herself for not setting an alarm. Armed with a cup of coffee and a heavy dose of guilt, she snuck out to the balcony and returned her daughter's call. As they chatted, Chloe was visible through the bedroom window overlooking the veranda.
How could such an young, angelic face be so...naughty?
But what was worse? A 20-year-old exotic dancer, or the 49-year-old that slept with her?
The pure depravity of it did not escape Lauren, nor did the fact that she began to get wet just gazing upon the sleeping beauty. When Chloe's eyes fluttered open, she saw the older woman talking on the phone waved through the window.
The call ended a few minutes later and Lauren joined her new lover in the bedroom as she was shimmying into last night's dress, pushing meaty breasts back inside the outfit, then pulling on very high heels.
"Well, you look happy," Chloe observed, struggling with one shoe.
"Yeah, that was my daughter. She's coming for a visit next week. Winter break."
"College student?"
"School counselor."
"Ah, then we have something in common."
Lauren coughed.
You mean besides both of you being in your twenties?
The two sat in silence while the younger woman threaded straps through tiny metal buckles.
"I suppose last night was just another day at the office for you, huh?" Lauren asked meekly.
Chloe shot the pretty brunette an annoyed but forgiving look. She was used to people seeing her as just a hired fuck. "Is that what you think? I was working? Like Jax?"
Lauren paled. She hadn't meant to offend. "I'm sorry, I just figured when I asked you to help with Corey, you know, I'd get a bill. Nothing is free these days."
Chloe leaned over and kissed the Iowan native. "Friendship is. And don't worry, the only bill you'll get is from Jax."
"I already paid him."
"Then we're all square. Look, you can believe what you want, but I wasn't on the clock last night. Yeah, you had an agenda and all, but I didn't agree to help you as a hired hand. That wasn't Autumn that made love to you, it was Chloe. I like you. I think we could be friends. Quite frankly, I don't have many of those. And you're special."
Lauren managed a smile. "I think you're special too."
Chloe stood up and smoothed her dress.
"Hubby still passed out?"
"No, he went to a job interview this morning."
"Ouch."
Lauren nodded. "He's probably rough around the edges right now. Anyway, thank you for helping with his...you know...thing."
"Oh, I definitely think we hit the mark," Chloe tossed her hair and picked up her purse. "We cucked him pretty hard. Not as hard as we could have, mind you, but he seemed to be into it."
"I guess he'll let me know."
"There's a sadness about him, you know."
"He's lonely. That'll change soon. I just hope he can hang in there."
The young girl winked. "Then create some memories to tide him over."
"I intend to do just that. Listen, thank Jax again for me, too. I know I was just another, um, customer, but...wow," Lauren reddened, fanning her face.
Chloe laughed. "Yeah, don't I know it. We occasionally team up. He does the hotwife thing a lot. You wouldn't believe how many couples want the experience but don't want to go through the trouble of bars or risk being seen. I asked him to keep the bull-cuck interaction fairly mild this time, since you didn't know how Corey was going to react. Maybe you guys can go deeper next time. Jax can really turn on the humiliation if you want. Believe me, you have no idea what some cucks get off on."
Lauren looked down at her hands.
Oh, I've got a pretty good idea.
The dancer saw the doubt in her friend's eyes. "Make no mistake, honey, he's got it bad. I may be young, but I can tell. He doesn't just like to
watch
you have sex, he wants to
wallow
in it, to bask in the fact that he's no longer as virile as the man who's fucking you."
"I never would have guessed that. And after all these years."
"Those you'd least suspect get bitten by the notion. Powerful men, like bank presidents. Tough guys, like firemen and soldiers. Once it gets in their heads, its like a drug. Hard to shake. "
"I might have to give Jax a call next time Corey's in town."
"I think he'd like that, if he's available. Just know he mostly does vids and shoots a lot."
"Pornos?"
"
Adult films.
Low-budget, not the slick stuff coming out of LA. Cam girls hire him a lot."
"And you?"
Chloe smirked. "There may be a few shorts out there with me in them."
"Well, you guys are very good actors."
"And so are you."
The junior executive blushed. "I wasn't acting."
The two women kissed at the door, ignoring the spinster in 23g who was taking her dog to the elevator. They giggled at the dirty look she telegraphed their way.
"Thanks again," Lauren smiled. "You made us very happy."
"Hey, it's what I do. Tootles!"
Moments later Chloe could be heard praising the small terrier in the lift as she joined the neighbor for the ride down.
Lauren leaned against the closing apartment door. She knew she should be focusing on the day ahead, but there were far weightier things on her mind.
+++++
Dale Dactyl sat at a table for two on the patio of Le Cafe, sipping a vodka martini. He was simply dressed simply in a floral shirt, white trousers, and brown loafers. Although one of the richest men in southeast Florida, you'd never know it by his appearance. No gold jewelry or Rolodex for him. It's not that he didn't enjoy wealth; that much was evidenced by the limo that took him everywhere and a sailboat docked in Fort Lauderdale. It's just that he didn't feel the need to flaunt it. In fact, he didn't even
feel
rich. Just some guy who was lucky enough to have positioned his small construction company to take advantage of the building boon in the 2000s. That, and having a good relationship with local unions helped catapult him to the top. Depending on the time of year, his company had fifteen to twenty residential developments underway at any one time. At 53, he wanted to put down the hammer and step back from the nine-to-five so he could travel and live life. That's why he needed an experienced project manager to help oversee the growing inventory of homes and high-rises.
Looking out over Biscayne Bay, Dactyl admired the expansive marinas filled with every type of vessel. Although he and his wife Amanda preferred Fort Lauderdale, Miami was okay too. One thing was for sure, he thought while admiring the ass of a pretty waitress as she walked by, both cities had really hot women.
+++++
Corey trudged past the towering hotels and million-dollar condos on his way to the water. His head was about to detonate, but it wasn't all related to the hangover. There was no choice but to press on with the interview. It could make a difference between a good life and great one. With Lauren.
What would that life look like? Expensive house in the 'burbs? One of those stuffy high-rise villas in the sky? Maybe a small sea-faring boat of their own? He was full of hope, trying to stay upbeat about how things might play out. But there were darker thoughts as well.
When he did finally live here, would she still be willing to play? Lauren wasn't his slave. She could stop at any time. Yet there were no indications she wanted to.
Of course, she doesn't. Face it, man, whatever Lauren does now is well beyond just satiating your perverted mind. She's bought into it. She digs it.
It was true. Of her the ten lovers he knew of - two of them women - he'd only set up
one
of those. That had been with his best friend Zane. All the others,
she
had solicited.
What if it got to be too much, too intense?
Then why bring up dating, you fool? You sit at home fretting about her finding someone else, then talk about dating? What the fuck's wrong with you?
The fetish, that's what.
It just went to show how strong the pull was. It consumed every waking moment. At work, he'd see the coworkers Lauren had fantasized about, then have an overwhelming urge to masturbate in some remote porta-potty. He'd drive by some of their favorite bars and imagine she was in there, flirting with their friends. He'd start streaming an old western, then find himself searching for new hotwife videos.
Yes, he had it bad, and it was getting worse. Those things Lauren and her friends had said last night were daggers, but in a sick, gratifying way. He couldn't remember his dick being any harder. The sad part was, it wasn't because his 61-year-old cock was in 20-year-old pussy. No, it was because he was watching his wife getting pounded into the mattress by a tattooed gigolo!
And if that wasn't enough, there were the spears of humiliation.
Lauren alluding to him being a "five minute" man, and not having the right "equipment" to play nude volleyball.