Cucold Club: Joe's Story

Who would believe an organization like this existed? Who would believe they found me out? Even crazier, who would believe I would join? Craziest of all, I'm making the opening speech tonight.

"Hi, I'm Joe, and I'm a cuckold."

"Hi, Joe."

I've been listening to you guys for the past few months. You either love having your wives fuck other men, or you complain that you can't do anything about it. I love having Lisa screw other men. We're getting rich because of it. She's more than a hot wife; she's a prostitute, an escort, a whore, a call girl to you older guys. She isn't a streetwalker or sidewalk sweetheart. That's too dangerous.

It first I wasn't too keen on the idea of her whoring. It started out of necessity. The transmission in my car went out six months after we were married. We needed a thousand dollars fast. We hadn't established any credit. Her car was okay, but, as a sales rep, I needed mine for work.

The breakdown occurred during the evening rush hour on the freeway on a Friday. By the time I got the car towed to a garage, the mechanic had gone home. He had the weekend off. I called Lisa and had her pick me up. It was nine o'clock before I got home.

Saturday morning Lisa and I worked the telephone trying to find someone who would loan us a grand to fix the car. My parents were out of town for the weekend. Hers were tapped out paying for our wedding. Her brother was always broke. I'm an only child. Our friends offered us sympathy, but no money. We had no savings, no credit cards, no stocks or bonds, no liquid assets of any kind. We had eighty dollars in our checking account until payday. The rent was due the day after we got paid. It would be two weeks before we got any more money. That would have to cover the car payments, utilities, and groceries. Our only hope was to get the mechanic to let us make payments.

Monday morning, I dropped Lisa off at her job and used her car to make my sales calls, then picked her up in the evening. This made her forty-five minutes early. She also had to wait an hour for me after she got off work. After I picked her up, we went to the garage to try to get my car. She waited in her car while I went inside to talk to the mechanic.

The guy listened patiently while I explained our situation. When I got to making payments, he suddenly became very stern. "Look, pal," he said, "I have a deal with the bank. They don't fix cars; I don't make loans. You'll get your car when I get my money. If I don't get paid in thirty days, I file a mechanic's lien and sell the car. There will be a ten-dollar a day storage fee tacked on. That's the law."

Slowly I walked back to Lisa and got into the car beside her. "What happened?" she asked. Dejectedly, I recounted my conversation with the mechanic. When I finished, she was silent for a couple minutes. Her expression told me she was deep in thought. I didn't say anything. "Let me talk to him," she said with conviction.

"I don't think it will do any good," I said. "He's pretty hard-nosed about money."

"I think I can soften him up." She unbuttoned her blouse down to the nipple line exposing her cleavage and got out of the car. She dashed into the office before I could say anything.

I should tell you a little bit about Lisa. My own personal, highly biased opinion is that she is the most beautiful woman in the world. I'm sure you feel the same way about your wives. She has emerald eyes, high cheekbones, waist-length golden hair, 34D boobs, long strong legs, a narrow waist, and gently flaring hips. Add a marketing degree with honors, and I never had a chance when we met. I was sold on her in half an hour.

Speaking of half an hour, that's how long she was inside the office. When she came out, she had a cocky smile, and she walked with a swagger. Another button was open on her blouse, and her hair seemed a little messy. She slid in behind the steering wheel and held up my car keys. "I told you I could soften him up," she said.

My jaw dropped open. "How did you do it?" I asked dumbfounded.

"I'll tell you about it at home. Right now, we should leave before he changes his mind."

I hesitated only a moment getting out of the car. What slowed me down was an odor. I could swear I smelled a freshly fucked pussy.

All the way home I thought about the aroma. The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced Lisa had fucked that guy. I knew what she smelled like after sex after having fucked her every night since we became engaged. Her clothes had been perfectly clean. His hands had been coated with grease when I talked to him. He could have washed up and stripped off his coveralls. The idea of her cheating on me so soon after our wedding, and right under my nose, angered me. At the same time, I got a hardon from thinking about the two of them going at it.

At home I immediately started asking her how she got the mechanic to give us the car. She ignored me, went into the bedroom, and started removing her suit. I followed her. Her back was to me when she took off her jacket and put it on a hanger. I went to my side of the bed to empty my pockets. She turned to face me as she unbuttoned her blouse. Her dark areolae were clearly visible through the thin material. Her taut nipples formed bumps in the fabric. She reached behind her waist and unzipped her skirt, which dropped to the floor exposing her down covered pussy. "Where's your underwear?" I asked in shock.

"The mechanic is holding them as collateral for the rest of the payments on your car repairs," she said very matter-of-factly. "I'm going to take a shower." Lisa turned and went into the bathroom. Slowly I finished removing my jacket.

I was stunned. She had actually done it. She had fucked a total stranger so we could get my car back. Considering the size of the repair bill, that had been a very expensive half hour for him. I didn't know if I should be angry with her or be grateful to her. We need both cars. Probably we would not have been able to raise the money any other way, and we would eventually have lost mine. Having only one car would have put us in a terrible bind. My curiosity was running wild. I had to get things cleared up with her. Quickly I undressed and went to the shower.

"Hi, Honey," she said sweetly when I stepped into the stall. "I see you decided to join me." Her eyes dropped to my turgid pecker. "And I see you're glad to see me." She handed me the soapy washcloth. "Here, you do my back, and I'll do yours."

I took the cloth, and she turned her back to me. Slowly I wiped it up and down her back as I tried to think of a way to open the conversation. Finally, I blurted out, "Did you fuck that guy?"

"What if I did?" she responded in her sweetest voice.

"Did you?"

"I got your car back, didn't I?"

"Did you do it?"

"Suppose I did." She put her hand on my boner. "It feels like you approve of the idea."

"Just answer the question."

She turned and took the washcloth from me. She gestured for me to turn around. Reluctantly I turned around, and she began scrubbing my back. "Today was the down payment. The total bill, as you know, is nine hundred seventeen dollars. I'll be coming home late the rest of this week and all next week. The deal is he writes off a hundred dollars per fuck. The last day will be the seventeen plus the interest. If I miss one day, we must pay the full amount." I couldn't believe my ears. My beloved bride was being a whore. The only positive part was she was doing it so I could keep my car. I stood there slowly shaking my head in disbelief. "Do you have a better idea?"

"No," I whispered. There was no other way out of our predicament. Even if one of us got a part-time job, it could be a month before we got the first paycheck. It would not be enough to pay the full bill, and the car would be gone. At least she would be mine on the weekends. What was I thinking? She was mine all the time. I would just be lending her out for a few hours. I turned and put my arms around her waist. "Thank you," I said softly. She held my head in her hands and kissed me.

"I love you," she whispered.

We stood under the warm water holding each other tightly. I closed my eyes and imagined the mechanic's dick plunging in and out of Lisa's cunt. My own solid meat nestled against her slit. Our lips met gently at first. The pressure increased as the seconds ticked by. My hips rocked back and forth moving my cock along her lower lips. Her nipples were rock-hard against my chest. I moved my mouth downward to suckle on those lovely points, then kissed my way down to her puffy labia. Dropping to my knees, I lapped at the little man in the boat protruding out from under his hood. Her head fell back. Her breathing became deep and rapid. I knelt further down and lapped at the sweet juices flowing from her dripping pussy. I wondered if the mechanic did that with her. She placed her right leg over my shoulder giving me greater access to her inner wonders. If there was a desk in the garage office, she probably would have sat on it and put both legs over his shoulders. In that case, she would have pressed her legs against his head when she climaxed. The thought of him eating her out made me even hotter. After another minute I was on the verge of cumming. I stood up, and she wrapped her leg around my waist. I lifted her up a couple inches and empaled her on my solid shaft. Her other leg snaked around my waist, and I held her up with my cock. To gain leverage, I pressed her against the wall under the shower head and pumped furiously into her. Another minute flew by. My ball sac began to tighten. Her breathing was deep and sharp as she tumbled over the edge into a powerful orgasm. Her pussy muscles contracted again and again as I blasted load after load of my hot seed into her womb. Apartment walls being thin, I was certain our neighbors probably heard our screams.

Slowly we collapsed to the shower stall floor clinging to each other as we regained our normal breathing patterns. Just as we settled down with her seated on my still rigid member, we both suddenly emitted a different type of shriek. We had used all the hot water. We were being pelted with cold. Lisa jumped up and turned off the faucets. Frantically we grabbed the towels to dry our shivering bodies. We rubbed ourselves quickly, then dashed to the bed and burrowed under the blankets. "I guess we deserved that," I said through chattering teeth.

She giggled. "Something had to cool you down," she said. "I've never seen you so excited. Was it because I did Bart?" I gave her a quizzical look. "That's his name."

"I guess so. I kept seeing you two in my head. I wish there was some other way to pay this bill."

"We need to save up some money for emergencies like this. We've been living on the financial edge since our wedding. Frankly, Joe, it makes me nervous."

"I guess I should get a part-time job in the evening for a while. I did tend bar for a while before we met. I could do it again without too much trouble."

"I should do something too. It's not fair for you to do it all. I would get bored sitting around here alone every night. A couple girls I work with are escorts at night. They make surprisingly good money. I'll call around tomorrow to see if anyone is hiring."

"I don't know about that. Doing Bart is one thing, but prostitution is something else."

"What's the difference? With him we're getting a transmission instead of money, but legally it's the same thing. By the way, he wants me to shave my pussy. What do you think?"

I thought for a moment before I said, "A satisfied customer is the best advertisement."

Lisa turned her first tricks on the night Bart got his last payment, and she got her underwear back. Three other guys had her beside him that night. She came home with as much money as both of us made in a week. I made her tell me all about each of them, which got me extremely hot, while I munched on her now hairless pussy. My balls ached by the time I shot my wad into her, not just on that night, but every night thereafter. Soon I was arranging johns for her myself. By eliminating the escort agency and becoming her pimp, I controlled who fucked her. We also made more money. Considering what her hooking has done for our bank account, I wouldn't change a thing.

I paused a moment before putting the microphone down. Should I mention her rate is $200 an hour for a straight fuck? I'll wait to see if someone asks.