Chez Femme

If your wife, the love of your life, decided you weren't enough for her and went to work in a brothel, what would you do? Find another wife who would be satisfied with two or three orgasms a night or would you try to win her back?

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Though he usually slept in, this Friday he rose early to catch Joanne before she left for work.

"I love your book club."

She looked up from her coffee, "Oh, why is that?" Her long hair was pulled back across her shoulders. She took a breath and he was reminded how much he enjoyed those beautiful breasts.

"When you came home last night, you were a tiger; a hungry tiger."

"And you fed me rather well," she smiled.

"What are you reading that was so exciting?"

"I'm not, but some of the ladies were reading Lady Chatterley's Lover and the discussion was interesting."

"Well, keep reading."

The next Thursday night, he was running errands, picking up parts for a weekend project. He was close to the bookstore at closing time and decided to meet her and maybe catch a late night snack.

The bookstore was almost deserted except for a group of women but Joanne wasn't there. He talked to one of the ladies as they were leaving and he discovered it was a quilting group.

He was surprised but realized he had assumed the club was at the bookstore and he must have been wrong. But he was sure Joanne had mentioned the bookstore.

He said nothing, but the next Thursday, he waited for her to leave and followed her. She parked and went into a building. He slowly drove past after she entered and saw a sign, Chez Femme, a Ladies Hotel.

So, they had a meeting room in a hotel. That wasn't unusual, but Joanne hadn't mentioned it.

He drove around the block, looking for a parking place and found one behind the building. He approached the rear entrance and saw a sign similar to the one on the front, but when he got close enough to read it, it was Clubbe Maison, Members Only. Charley ignored it. He entered a hallway that led to a hotel receptionist, a lovely lady in her thirties, a business like white blouse and her brown hair in a braid.

She was smiling, but there was a questioning frown on her brow, "Sir, are you a member?"

"No, I'm looking for my wife."

"I'm afraid we can't help you."

But at that moment he heard laughter that he believed was hers and started down the hall.

"Sir, you can't go in there. Only Members."

He stepped into a large room where men and women were gathered in small groups. The men were all in suits and the ladies in cocktail dresses. He was definitely out of place in his slacks and windbreaker. He spotted Joanne surrounded by three men. When she saw him, she stepped away and started toward him.

She was wearing a white knit dress that caressed every curve of her beautiful body, not the jeans and shirt she had on when she left the house. Her hair was drawn up in to a very nice chignon with a Japanese comb holding it making her graceful neck appear even longer.

As Joanne reached him, a woman joined them followed by a very large man. Charley was big, broad shouldered, in good shape. But he was intimidated.

Joanne smiled, "Angie, this is my husband, Charley."

Angie nodded, "Pleased to meet you." She turned to Joanne, "Are we going to have a problem?"

Joanne smiled, "I don't think so." She took Charley's hand, "Come with me."

She led him upstairs and he watched the tight cheeks of her beautiful ass shift beneath the jersey dress. They entered a room and she closed the door. There was a bed, a wardrobe, three full-length mirrors, an armchair and a couch, all done in pinks and grays.

He started, "Now, tell me..." She placed a finger to his lips to quiet him.

She went across the room, poured him a drink, and pulled her dress over her head. She turned. She was beautiful. She was naked except for high heels and white stocking held up by a thin white garter belt, framing her shaved vagina. The tips of her tits were as erect as his cock.

She handed him the drink, reached up and pulled the pin holding her hair, letting it cascade over her shoulders.

As she approached, he started, "Tell me..." but she stopped him with a kiss, her tongue invading him. She pushed off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. She moved down and began nibbling on his nipples as her hands found his belt and unfastened his pants, letting them drop to the floor. She knelt, pushed down his shorts and let his erection spring free. She caressed it, stroked it, kissed it.

This was his wife. Joanne. She hadn't given him a blow job since they were dating ten years ago. But now she kissed and swallowed him to the back of her throat. One hand stroked his cock and the other caressed his balls. Damn, she was good. His wife, a cocksucker.

He felt his jism rising and knew he was close. "Joanne, I'm going to cum." He tried to pull away, but she grabbed his ass and held him. She had never swallowed.

He could no longer contain himself and exploded deep in her throat, pushing, growling.

She never lost a drop.

Even though he finished, she continued to suck till there was nothing left.

She licked him clean, stood, and pushed him down into the armchair. She sat in his lap, both legs to one side, her arms around his neck, her bare ass on his bare thighs.

She kissed him, "I love you, Charley."

"Then what is all this?" He indicated the room.

"How often do we make love?"

"Almost every night."

"And how often do you cum?"

"Every time."

"And how many times do I?"

"Once or twice, maybe more."

"I come here and I will have ten, maybe fifteen orgasms in an evening."

"How many evenings?"

"Just on Thursday nights. I need the week to let my pussy and asshole recover."

"You let them fuck your ass?"

"Sure. I get six hundred for my ass."

"You get paid?"

"Yes, two hundred for a blow job, four hundred for my pussy, six hundred for my ass and another hundred if they don't use a condom."

He blustered, trying to understand, "You're a whore."

"Not really. Whores do it for a living. I do it for the pleasure. The money is just a way of keeping score. And it makes it clear that it's just sex, not love."

"But you could get hurt."

"No, there is no bondage, no sadism. Any member that gets too rough faces suspension or expulsion. If that's what they want, there are other places.

He had to ask, "Have you found anyone better than me?"

She laughed, "Charley, I love you. Nothing anyone could do will change that. No matter whom I entertain, they don't love me. That's why I love having you make love to me."

She reached between her legs and found his cock. The conversation had given him another erection. She stroked him, "See, you still love me." She smiled and kissed him as she guided him into her vagina.

But sitting on his lap didn't get him in very far. She moved down and knelt on all fours. "Fuck me, Charley."

He knelt behind her and easily entered her. She was very wet and he wondered if it was some other guy's cum making her wet. He looked down at her beautiful ass, wondering who had fucked it.

He pulled back so that just the tip was still in and slapped her ass.

He thought, 'My beautiful wife' (slap) He slammed into her. He pulled back.

'Is a whore.' (slap) He slammed into her. He pulled back.

He realized that when he slapped her ass, her vagina contracted, making her tight when he rammed her. He wondered if it hurt. He didn't care.

Out loud he said, "She fucks" (slap) She tightened. He slammed into her. He pulled back.

"For money." (slap) She tightened. He slammed into her. He pulled back.

"She does it." (slap) She tightened. He slammed into her. He pulled back.

"For fun." (slap) She tightened. He slammed into her. He pulled back.

She reached under and grabbed his balls. He grabbed her hips and rammed her hard, trying to inflict some sexual revenge. He rammed her again and again until he felt wad after wad pumping deep inside her.

She cried out loud enough for everyone to hear, "Fuck. Me. Charley."

He continued to slam into her until there was nothing left and he fell to the floor beside her. She pushed him on to his back and crawled halfway on top of him, kissing him, murmuring, "I love you, Charley," over and over.

After a few minutes, she stood, helped him up and said, "Get dressed, we have to go."

She crossed the room, picked up her dress and went in to the bath. When she emerged, the dress was on, her hair was up again, and her lipstick was reapplied.

He had dressed and she came over and they kissed. She took his hand and led him down the stairs. At the foot of the stairs, she stopped. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. "Go home. I'll be there in a while."

"You're not going with me?"

"No. I have commitments here. Go home, we'll talk later." She pushed him down the back hall and she returned to the front room.

He stumbled down the hall in a daze. As he neared the back door, Angie stopped him and took his arm, "Charley, come with me."

She took him to a room with a bed in the center and couches around the outer walls. She sat on one of the couches and motioned for him to sit with her.

"I gather you didn't know your wife entertains here?"

"Entertains? She's a whore."

"Not really. A whore is someone that has to screw for money. Our ladies entertain and enjoy the pleasures of sex."

"And get paid for it."

"Yes, but that's only important in clarifying the relationship. No one is in love. It's all for pleasure. And I assure you, the ladies enjoy themselves. If any of the members get out of line, they may get suspended, and lose their membership fee."

"Fee?"

"Yes. A thousand a month for the privileges besides the cost of other activities."

They sat for a minute. He was trying to come to terms with the situation. "I don't know what to do."

"Well, I know that Joanne loves you and if you ask her to quit, I believe she will." She took a tissue from a box on a near by table and wiped her neck.

"Okay." Though she was older, he noticed she had a lovely neck, beautiful intense gray eyes, light brown hair that curled at her neck.

"But she'll probably resent your making her stop. And because she enjoys sex, she may find a lover to satisfy her, someone who won't be as considerate as our members. Someone who might abuse her."

"No."

She unbuttoned the top buttons of her blouse. It was a brown shimmering fabric and as she ran the tissue inside, he noticed that she had lovely breasts and the tips were straining against the fabric.

She noticed him watching, "Sorry, it's hot in here. I'll have to get James to adjust the heat."

"The big guy with you before?"

"Yes." She unbuttoned the blouse down to her waist and he could see that she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Does he service the 'ladies?"

She laughed, "Hardly. He prefers men, but he's very protective of his ladies. No one gets hurt."

She turned, raising one leg on to the couch so that her legs were spread, one ankle under the other knee, her skirt pulled above her knees and puddled between her thighs. "You may want to divorce her. But understand, she will have to leave here if you do."

"What?"

"All the ladies here are married. It lessens the possibility for entanglements."

"Do their husbands know?"

"Most do not. Some husbands do and, as I understand it, find it quite exciting that their wives are enjoying themselves. The ladies tell me their husbands find the tales they tell quite erotic and it makes for great love making at home. Another knows, doesn't like it but excepts it because his wife likes it."

She ran the tissue up under her gray skirt and dabbed at her inner thighs. He thought he caught a glimpse of black underwear. Though she was older, she was still beautiful and he was having difficulty ignoring her sensuality.

"So what do I do? Just grin and bear it?"

"Joanne is a very special lady. When she started entertaining, she set a standard of sophistication that our members found most enticing. Because she was attracting so much attention, the other ladies raised their level of sophistication or changed to another night. That changed the mix of the members."

"Why."

"The ladies choose whom they will entertain. The beer drinkers and rogues received no attention and they too changed to other nights."

She pushed her skirt up further, exposing white thigh above her brown stockings.

"So I shouldn't tell you this, because we don't want to lose her. Joanne loves you very much. Everyone knows that when she has an orgasm, she yells 'Fuck Me, Charley' no matter what the member's name is. I asked her why and she told me that no one fucks her like you."

"Then why is she here?"

"When you make love, do you have an orgasm?"

"Yeah, sure."

"How many does she have?"

He hesitated, not wanting to accept the answer, "One or two."

"And that is the problem. She wants more."

She pulled her skirt up to her waist and he could see she wasn't wearing panties, he was looking at her trimmed bush.

"Stand up," she directed.

He did.

"Drop your pants."

Looking at her body had excited him and he wasn't ashamed to drop his pants and shorts and display his erection.

"Ah. You made love to Joanne a few minutes ago and already you've recovered. That's a good sign."

"You were listening?"

"I don't usually, but you were angry and I wanted to be sure you didn't abuse her. And I knew she was alright when I heard her yell, 'Fuck me, Charley."

"Anyway, the problem is you cum too soon. You need to learn to control yourself."

She knelt in front of him, wrapped her hand around his cock, leaned forward and kissed the tip. She licked, sucked, swallowed, took him to the back of her throat. She played with his balls, fingered his ass and he was feeling the stirring, knowing he was going to shoot any minute.

And she wrapped her finger and thumb around the base of his cock and squeezed. He felt the surge back off.

"Now see, if you had cum, it would be another half hour before you could fuck. What would you do then?"

"I would go down on her."

She sat on the couch, placed one foot on the back and the other on the floor, spreading her legs. "Eat me."

He dove in, kissing her vagina, sticking his tongue in as far as possible.

She pushed his head away. "No, No. Look at my pussy. Is it wet? Is it ready?"

"Yes."

"Yes. Which gives you a wonderful advantage. I want you to fuck me. So now you can do all sorts of things to me, for me."

She released his head, "Kiss my knees. No, the hollow behind it. Now kiss my thighs. Don't dive in. See how my lips are swollen. Nibble on them, suck them. Yes, like that. See the inner lips? Suck them. Follow the outer lips up to the top. That little nub like a tiny penis, lick it. Oh, wow. Can you suck it? Oh, I like that. Now bring your fingers up and rub."

Pushing the blouse aside, she began massaging her tits, pulling on the nipples.

"Don't be rough on the clit, just tap it. Now put two fingers in me. Yeah, now curl them up. Yeah, that's the spot. Oh yeah. Just keep it up until... Oh, oh, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck me, Charley."

She shook, her head banged against the back of the couch, her tits bounced, she growled.

She pushed him away and stood, "Come on."

By the time she reached the bed, she had lost the blouse and the skirt. She lay down on her back, her stocking covered legs spread, her high heels in the air.

"Fuck me, Charley."

He stepped out of his pants, kicked off his shoes, lost his shirt and knelt between her legs. He carefully placed the tip against her slit, but she was having none it. She grabbed his hips, pulled him in and rose to meet him, burying him deep within her. He stroked in and out but before he could begin to build, she had another orgasm. As her muscles clamped and unclamped he felt his balls filling again. As she came down, she pushed him away.

"Eat me, Charley." And pushed his head between her thighs.

This time he dove in full force. He inserted three fingers as he licked and sucked her clit. He ran his hand under her, found her asshole and jammed in a finger. He felt her shudder through another orgasm.

She rolled him over on to his back, straddled him, grabbed his cock and dropped down on it, drawing it deep inside her puss. She leaned forward, offering him her breasts, her nipples. He sucked, he nibbled.

"Bite it." And he did. She slammed down on him and shuddered through another orgasm.

She rode him. He caressed her tits, her ass. Stuck a finger in. He could no longer tell when she was having an orgasm; she just kept on. He thought he had lost the desire to cum until she climbed off, got between his legs and started sucking his cock.

Remembering the last time, he wasn't sure of the outcome but he was enjoying it. This time he was not disappointed. He felt it rising, waited for her to stop it but she kept sucking, letting him hit the back of her throat. He felt it rising and she sucked harder. He erupted and she swallowed every bit and kept pumping.

When he was completely dry, she crawled up beside him. "That was good. Do you know how many times I came?"

"No."

"Neither do I."

After a few moments she spoke. "What time do you leave work?"

"We close at five, but I'm usually there until six."

"Okay. Monday night I want you here at seven. I want you to learn to delay so that you can bring Joanne to more orgasms. When she says 'Fuck me Charley,' I want her begging, not cheering. Will that work for you?"

"Sure."

As he was dressing, he looked around the room and asked, "What is this place?"

"This is our exhibition hall. Some evenings we will have professionals in to talk to the ladies."

"Professionals?"

"Yes. Everything from high class prostitutes to gynecologists. And on weekends we have exhibitions. That's what the bed is for. A man and woman, a woman and two men, two women and one man, two women, all sorts of combinations."

"The couches?"

"For couples to watch."

"Joanne?"

"She has never taken part, either as an exhibitor or observer. Now, go home. Decide what you're going to do. I'll plan on seeing you Monday."

Should the writer continue? Does he need an editor?