If a story about a prostitute wife is not your thing then why are you reading this? Please take note that comments from anonymous haters will be deleted.
Please read chapters 01 to 04 first if you wish to fully appreciate the story.
Finally, a huge thank you to anyone who has taken the time to read my efforts, constructively comment or follow me, it is people like you that have encouraged me to continue this series.
The days flew by and the proposed evening had come around far too quickly for me, or so it seemed, and once again I found myself preparing for a night on the game. Probably the first of many for me if things evolved how my husband wanted them to.
During the days preceding my return to the world's oldest profession I had been busy at school, so my mind had been fairly preoccupied, but I had still found some time to shop for outfits, the local charity shops providing a good source of inspiration. I was also able to get my hair and nails done one evening, making sure at least that part of me was ready.
As the agreed date had grown closer so my apprehension had slowly increased. My concerns about being on the street still worried me and although I knew I would still go through with it I couldn't help but feel nervous.
I left work promptly on the Friday afternoon heading straight home to organise dinner and get ready. After we had eaten, a meal taken mostly in silence as we both contemplated the night ahead, I left my husband to clear the dishes away while I went up to take a long, luxurious bath and prepare myself for the evening to come.
Liam was waiting in our lounge when, over an hour later, I slowly descended the stairs, pausing in the doorway as I reached the bottom, for him to critically inspect my appearance.
"Wow!" his eyes widened when he saw me, "You look amazing."
My hair had been pinned up with numerous blonde strands trailing loosely down across my ears and neck while my make-up was applied a lot more heavily than usual. The dark eyeshadow around my blue eyes helping emphasise the long false eyelashes I had on, which were black with a thick layer of mascara.
Under the thin black denim jacket, I wore a lacy red bra that did little to conceal my modest breasts and matched the short flared red skirt I was wearing. I had found it on one of my charity shopping sprees and had spent an evening shortening it so it just about reached the tops of my black fishnet hold-ups. The strappy black stilettos with a 3" heel, big hooped earrings and a wrist full of bangles completed what I hoped was the perfect hooker outfit.
And, judging by my husband's reaction, I definitely looked the part.
"Shall we go?" I reached for my shoulder bag, scooping up the additional condom's I had purchased, adding them to the half dozen or so left from my first outing as a harlot.
I quickly slipped into our car, checking that none of our neighbours were around to see me so inappropriately dressed, and fastened my safety-belt as Liam pulled out of our driveway. Traffic was unusually light and the short drive to the run-down industrial estate we had used on our previous adventure only took us less than twenty minutes. We drove mostly in silence, both of us deep in thought about the evening ahead.
"The café seems busy." I finally commented as we drove in through the entrance to the site.
"Probably truck drivers I imagine, considering the number of lorries that are parked up." Liam suggested.
I hadn't paid much attention but he was right, there were quite a few articulated trucks standing at the roadside and I made a mental note that the café might be good for business sometime.
As if he read my thoughts Liam interjected, "It might be worth paying it a visit later. Truckers must get lonely to."
"I was thinking the same. I guess I'll just have to see how busy I get." I agreed.
Our conversation ended at that point as my husband pulled our car over, stopping close to the spot I had used previously. There were a couple of girls down the road, obviously already touting for customers and I expected more would arrive as the evening progressed. However, like before, I was some distance away from them and hoped not to arouse any enmity by encroaching on their 'turf'.
We sat, parked in the shadows, for a few minutes, silently watching the occasional vehicle drive by as I envisaged what I was about to go and do for the second time. My heart was thumping and my stomach was in knots as I tried to calm myself before getting out of our car.
Finally, I sighed, I was as ready as I would ever be and I couldn't put it off any longer, "Time to go to work I guess."
With that I slipped out of my seat into the unseasonably warm night air and, heels clicking loudly on the tarmac, walked across to take up my position on the street.
Standing on the pavement, under the glow of the streetlights, it all seemed so familiar. My husband waiting for me across the road in our car, parked discretely in the shadows, while I strolled back and forth on the pathway ready for and available to any potential punters that might drive by.
It wasn't a long wait.
I had only been there a few minutes when a dark Audi pulled over beside me and I wiggled my hips as I strutted across to the open passenger window.
"Hi honey, looking for some fun tonight?" I leant over making sure my jacket fell open to reveal my breasts only just covered by the lace bra.
"How much?" he got straight to the point.
I looked at him properly for the first time. He was old, at least fifty plus, I estimated, unattractive and very overweight from what I could see. Definitely not the most appealing of customers but I was a whore and not here to be fussy.
"It's £25 for oral and £40 for a fuck." I repeated my prices.
He looked from my face to my tits and back up again, "OK, a fuck. Get in."
Opening the door, I slid into the passenger seat, not bothering to pull my skirt down when it rode up exposing my stockings and the tops of my thighs. Glancing across I could see him eyeing my legs lustfully as I fastened my seat belt and hoped he wouldn't take to long to cum.
"Left and left again. You can park up behind the building." brusquely I gave him directions to the loading bay behind the abandoned unit that I used for my encounters.
There was no answer, he just put the Audi into gear and pulled away from the kerb, following my instructions.
"You got a name hon?" I asked trying to avoid the disconcerting silence.
He looked across at me, "Yeah, its Del. Short for Derek, What about you?"
