The next time I saw Hoffman again was for my performance review.
I walked into his office and even before I sat down, he began speaking to me without ever looking up from the screen, "We have reviewed your performance this year and concluded..." so on and so forth.
To the chase, the salary increase, and performance bonus were exactly what I had asked for. He didn't discuss anything else and never looked at me and then indicated the meeting was over.
I sat in the chair for a moment gathering my thoughts then wrote on a pad that I had brought into the meeting with me asking him to come to dinner at my home in two weeks, time enough for the spoils of my sin to register my bank account. I wrote the date, a Saturday night, and added that instructions will be left on the hall console at the entrance to my home. I tore off the sheet handed it to him, he took it, read it and simply said, "Yes Ok." and tore it up.
I walked out and knew we had a deal. That night I told Jennifer the deal had been struck.
She looked away for a moment then turned to me and said, "I knew he would go for it. Poor guy is horny as hell. I think he has not been laid in ages."
"Yes, that's the attitude, it's a pity fuck, or better yet, it's a therapy fuck. You are the treatment for what ails him. I bet he hasn't been with another woman other than his wife for decades."
She smiled and said, "Oh yeah, I'm like Florance Nightingale right?"
"If Florance Nightingale was the most beautiful woman in the world and a whore, then yeah you're just like her," I grabbed Jennifer in my arms and kissed her.
It entered my mind that these lips that I was kissing would soon be enveloping another man's cock. Not only didn't it bother me, but I was aroused by it. I didn't even think it strange.
I had technical work to do before the red-light Saturday. I went to a big photography and video store in the city and bought three expensive small video cameras, a spy set up and asked the sales guy if you knew anyone who could set this up in my home. He offered his own services and came out to my house and set up three cameras in the guest bedroom, one in the ceiling, and two on opposite walls, one hidden in a piece of furniture, the other in the wall behind a painting, well hidden. He charged me a fortune, but it was money well spent. I tipped him a third of his fee to make sure he forgot everything he had done or seen. I could sit in my office on the other side of the guest room and simultaneously watch the three cameras on my computer.
Then the filthy lucre hit my checking account.
I showed it to Jennifer, "It's not enough but you are going to be the highest paid whore in the history of whoredom."
She smiled and said, "You always say such lovely things to your wife. Come on, do pimps really talk that way to their whores? Don't they sweet talk them, tell them how desirable they are, how much they love them, you know con them?"
I hadn't really thought about it, but she was right. I did my best impression of Harvey Keitel as a pimp in the movie "Taxi Driver" which was my only point of reference, sweet talking a young Jody Foster. I'll spare you the bad dramatics, but Jennifer appreciated the attempt.
On the designated Saturday I left a note with instructions and the new one-hundred-dollar bill folded width wide and balanced on edge on top of the table in the hall foyer. The currency note was a symbol, to him and to Jennifer, that this was a business transaction. A whore and her john in an exchange by mutual consent; money for sex. Enjoy, but you are only renting my goddess wife by the hour, nothing outside the next ninety minutes is yours.
Jennifer spent more time than usual applying her makeup and then choosing an outfit, although I intervened and had her put on the attire she wore on Hoffman's first visit. It was to be her whore wardrobe. She walked about the bedroom getting ready just a bit too quickly, touching objects around the room without any recognition of what they were for. I thought for a moment that I would give her an out, tell her she didn't have to go through with it if she didn't want to. No, I thought better of it, she had been given opportunities to back out of this several times before this evening. I was a pimp tonight and she was my whore. I had taken payment and now she had to deliver for her man. The doorbell rang and the front door opened. I grabbed Jennifer by the arm and pulled her into the guest room. She went without any resistance, but I could tell that without the forceful pull she wouldn't have made it across the hall. She sat on the bed, and I made my exit. Hoffman was reading my note in the foyer as I closed the door to my office, opened my laptop and connected it to the three cameras. As the images appeared on my screen, Hoffman entered the guestroom.
Jennifer stood up and said, "Hi Jack, I'm glad you could make it."
She said her rehearsed lines very convincingly.
"God, you're beautiful," Hoffman gushed. He placed the crisp C note on the dresser as instructed, "This is for you."
Jennifer said, "Thank you, Jack," and began to unbutton his dress shirt.
"Wait first I want to undress you; can I do that?" he asked.
She said, "Of course, you can Jack," as she turned around to give him access to her back.
Our playacting had trained her well. The banter with Jack was second nature to her, as if she had done this many times before, which she had, with me, her husband.
Her dress slipped off her body, and Jack immediately undid her bra which she took in her hands and discarded onto a chair as she turned to face my boss. He immediately placed his hands on her breasts, leaned forwards and kissed Jennifer on the mouth kneading her breasts in his palms and fingers. I guess Jack is a breast man.
He pulled away and said, "Sit on the bed," and gently guided her to the bed.
He got on his knees between her legs, took the elastic band of her panties between his fingers and with Jennifer lifting her butt off the bed swiftly took them down her legs and away from her body.
He spread her legs wider, moved his face closer to Jennifer's vulva and leaned forward placing his mouth on her pussy, taking short licks at first then placing his entire mouth over her sex without coming up for air. Since his private sex show weeks earlier, the guy must have been starving for my wife's cunt. Jennifer leaned back with her head resting on a pillow, her legs below the knee over the edge of the bed, eyes closed, hands rubbing the top of Hoffman's bald head.
At this point I was playing five on one. After all, I was watching a porn video, with three different angles, with a woman, way too beautiful for porn, getting her pussy eaten. The fact that it was my wife did not detract from the lust factor, but only enhanced it. To see another man sexually pleasure my wife aroused my manhood, contradicting what my ration mind, if such an entity exists, was signaling that I was obligated to be outraged with jealousy, but I wasn't in the least. It just made my cock hard.
Jennifer's hands were grabbing fistfuls of bedsheet, soft moans emanated out of her mouth, I assumed Hoffman was competent with his tongue, though he stopped well short of bringer her to orgasm. He stood up and with lustful vigor he took off his pants and the rest of his clothes.
Jennifer was catching her breath when, using both hands, he brought her legs up onto her chest while at the same time pulling her body to the edge of the bed. Then he took his cock in his hand, rubbed the tip up and down on the outside of her inner labia lips to pick up wetness, brought the head of his cock to the entrance of her cunt and pushed just a bit in then pulled out, then pushed more of it back in on the next stroke.
Jennifer whimpered with each thrust of his penis. Listening on my headphones plugged into my computer, I was watching a porn, on three screens, scene staring my wife. Although I knew all the sounds she makes while making love, over the headsets they somehow seemed as if I was hearing them for the first time. I spit on my cock, why didn't I have lotion handy?
By the fourth thrust the entire length of his penis was sliding in and out of my wife's cunt. Jennifer's pleasure noises became louder. He pulled both her legs straight up and place them on his chest, occasionally kissing her calves. He gradually picked up speed and soon slammed his full body weight against Jennifers ass while plunging his manhood into her sheath.
I think the guy might have lasted all of five minutes, which is impressive when you think about it. He is slamming his cock with all his sixty-year-old vigor into the object of his lust, my wife, a ten, and he can hold off ejaculating for an entire five minutes is impressive.
Then he groans and drops his load into her. I've noticed from watching porn that women orgasm slightly differently from one another, whereas guys all ejaculate pretty much the same, there is no heterogeneity to the male orgasm. Sometimes with women you can't even tell if she came or not and it's even harder to tell if its genuine. I can tell when my wife genuinely orgasms, and she most certainly did not with my boss.
