My Wife Is My Pimp

Chapter 1 - Prelude

"That was a great dinner! Now sit tight and I will get dessert." I stood and left the dinning room. I was back in a moment and dropped a large, thick, nine by twelve envelope on my wife's place mat.

"Check that out."

I sat again and watched my wife's face carefully as she opened the flap and pulled out a pack of glossy colour photographs. As she saw the first one, her face went white and she stopped breathing.

"Don't say a word. I repeat, don't say anything!!" I growled harshly. I could see tears coming to her eyes.

"I..." she mumbled.

I reached across the table and slapped her across the face hard enough to almost knock her out of her chair. "I said, don't say a word!" (Just so you don't think I'm a wife beater, that was the first time in the 22 years that I had known her that I had hit her in anger).

"Just sit there and nod or shake your head. All the questions I have, have yes and no answers. Got it?"

"Y..." she started, then furiously nodded as my hand snaked across the table.

"Good. Now look at each of those pictures. One at a time. A good look." I made a new statement every time she looked at a new picture. "Think about your mother seeing these pictures. Think about your father seeing these pictures. Think about your daughter seeing these pictures. Think about your son seeing these pictures. Think about our friends seeing these pictures. Think about your neighbours seeing these pictures. Think about what it is like to be divorced with nothing."

She opened her mouth as if to speak at this one and then shut it again.

"Think about the whole court seeing these pictures. Think about these pictures on the internet. Think about what people will think about you. Think about having no job. Think about not being able to get a job. Think about it now because you sure as hell didn't think before!"

She was sobbing now. I passed her a box of tissues.

I sat and looked across the table at my wife. This was our 20th Wedding Anniversary. And such an anniversary it was. Ashley was a good looking woman, she was 38 now, but still had delicate features and a toned body.

The tears running down her cheeks just made me more angry.

"I've had those pictures for two weeks now. I have made a few decision of my own. The first question I have to ask is; do you want out of this marriage? Now, before you answer, you need to understand that there will be a few rules that you will follow if you stay. The first of which is about sex. I get it from you whenever, where ever, how ever I want it. No complaints, no 'headaches,' no excuses, no 'I can't...'. I think we both know now that you can. If this sounds manageable to you, you can nod. If you want a divorce, shake your head." I waited.

In between sobs she nodded.

"OK, prove it. Get over here and give me a blow job." I turned my chair sideways and slid my ass a little forward.

This sounds easy, but she had never gone down on me before, not once in 20 years of marriage. She had used every trick in the book to keep my prick out of her mouth. Yet in a couple of the pictures she had been looking at, she was blowing a couple of different cocks.

She hesitated as she glanced around the room still sobbing. The curtains were closed. Both our kids were at college. She got up and grabbed a couple of tissues to mop her face. Her mascara had run and her nose was dripping. As she came around the table, she tried her best to clean her face.

She drew a deep breath to control her sobs as she got down on her knees on the floor in front of my chair.

As she undid and pulled down my pants and shorts, my semi-rigid cock popped up. Her cold little hand wrapped around the base of my cock and it wilted until, for the first time in the twenty-two years I had known her, her lips kissed and caressed the head. Between one heartbeat and the next, I was hard.

She started a slow in-and-out rhythm with a little tongue and a little suction. Every once in a while a sob would provide a little extra stimulation.

"You know," I started, "this is the first blow-job I have ever had. Stupid me, I have been faithful all my wedded life. Twenty-two years of denials and what do you do? You go play slut and give some other dick your BJ virginity. That was worse than seeing you fucking another guy. At least I had been there first... and your ass. Jesus H. Christ! We won't go there tonight."

I paused to take a deep breath. This sure seemed to me to be a well practised blow.

"Now while you are busy, the second rule. It says that you have to do whatever you are told to do regarding sex. It is only a little different than the first rule but has lots of applications. By the way, you will swallow. Got it?"

Her head was already going up and down but she nodded anyway, I nearly came.

"Last rule. No talking to anyone about those pictures, especially to me. I don't want to know why, how, when, or who. I don't want to talk about it at all. It will be the elephant between us - the unspoken friction. Maybe over time it will shrink."

I was breathing hard now, "Agreed?" I squeaked as I was about to cum.

Her nodding caused me to blast cum into her mouth. She took it - all of it - and there was at least two weeks worth stored up. She took a few more slow thrusts then moved her head back and opened her mouth. I could see my cum all over her tonsils. She swallowed.

I sat there for a moment, enjoying the afterglow of a great orgasm. It was a smart move on my part to wait two weeks before shattering the complacence of our coexistence.

"Oh, by the way, you are sleeping in the guest room until further notice. So, was dessert good?"

* * * * *

When I came downstairs for breakfast the next morning, my wife was at the stove, dressed in a sheer teddy. My wife, Ashley, is a beautiful woman. I think she looks better now than when she was 18 at our wedding. She had filled out in all the right places, but a slim diet and constant workouts at the gym had kept her body toned and tight. There was little sag to her C-cup breasts, no cellulite on the backs of her legs, and no significant scars or tattoos (I hate tattoos).

When she realized I was there, she turned and smiled. "Breakfast in five minutes - bacon and eggs." She rarely cooked breakfast for me, even though I had to be at work by 8:00 and she didn't start work until 9:00.

I grunted. I am never civil before my first coffee in the morning. I poured myself a cup and sat at the table. My iPad was already there so I read the news and sipped my coffee while I waited.

"Here they are." Ashley slipped a plate into my place. "Anything else?"

"Not yet. But don't go too far."

She sat at her place and nibbled on a piece of toast. "Anything interesting in the news?"

I put the last of my egg in my mouth. "Nope."

"Any exciting plans for the day?"

"Yeah," I said as I stuffed the last of the bacon in my mouth, "my wife is going to give me another blow-job. Right now."

She came around the table and went to her knees in front of me as I turned sideways toward her. I opened my robe and she took my prick in her hand and moved it to her mouth.

"You are going to have an interesting week," I said. She looked up at me.

"You are going to find a young, good-looking woman who is going to come here next Saturday night at 7:00 to fuck me blind."

She stopped sucking. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"Don't know. Don't care. Saturday. Seven. Cute."

She continued to look up at me.

I raised one eyebrow, "Divorce?"

She started sucking again.

"Oh, not a pro," I added, "that includes your 'coworkers'." She had been fucking around at work.

It took a little longer this morning. I really wasn't into it and neither was she. When I finally came, she showed it to me and swallowed it down. Breakfast of champions.

Chapter 2 - Heather

It was an interesting week. The first days were tense. I spoke in monosyllables, she worked hard at pleasing me. She was sleeping in the guest room. I had the master bedroom to myself. I had a blow-job every morning - and then Wednesday came.

Wednesday was special because it was the night of the meetings. Supposedly her management team had an evening meeting that often went late. One or two in the morning late. That was when the P.I. I had hired had taken the pictures.

Usually on Wednesday, she would get home around four (early for her) and begin to dress to go back to the meeting. That was my first clue. I happened to walk in on her one Wednesday when she was putting on stockings and a garter belt. She never wore stockings for me.

When I asked her about it, she said that a regional manager was coming to this meeting so she wanted to make a special impression. She was hoping for a promotion. Yeah, right.

The final straw was when I found what I thought was semen in some of her panties in the laundry on a Thursday. I knew it wasn't me. We hadn't fucked for months - well OK. At least a week. I hired that P.I.

At breakfast the first Wednesday after the explosion, I could see that Ashley had something to say but couldn't because of Rule #3. After my blow-job (which was very thorough) I put the needle to her.

"So, what are your plans for the day?" I said as I pulled my robe around me and fastened the tie.

There was silence as she obviously thought carefully about her answer. "Well, I have to work..." she paused and moved further away. "It's Wednesday so I have a staff meeting tonight."

"Hmm," was my response. Then I got up and left.

That night I went to the local pub.

I got home around midnight. She came in late again. Around 1:30 am.

Thursday she was quiet at breakfast but she did make porridge. I had my usual blow-job and left for work.

Saturday came. Breakfast was waffles and strawberries. When I had finished, she came around the table to give me a blow-job.

"Not today," I said, "I need all my stamina for tonight."

She sighed. "The thing is..."

I cut her off. "I have all the divorce papers in my office. My lawyer sent them over yesterday. They just need my signature. Seven, right?"

She nodded.

* * * * *

The doorbell rang at 7:05. Ashley had been pacing the floor in the living room for the past hour, chewing her fingernails. When the bell rang she rushed to open the door. I was dressed in my robe, sitting just out of sight. I got up leisurely and moved to the door. I could hear them speaking.

Ashley said, "Hi, Heather, come in, come in. I was worried, I thought you might change your mind..."

I missed Heather's reply. When I got there, Heather was bent over, taking off her shoes. As soon as she stood up, Ashley introduced us.

"Ralph, this is Heather..."

Heather was a brunette with shoulder length hair, a heart shaped face that, though it wasn't beautiful, certainly wasn't ugly. Her pert nipples stood out behind the material of her T-shirt from what appeared to be A-sized tits. Her low-rise black jeans cupped a generously curved butt. She wore no belt, no jewelry and no bra.

"No last names," I interrupted, as I stuck out my hand.

Heather clutched my hand and shook it, "Hi."

"So, Ashley has told you why you are here?"

"Yeah, she told me all about you. Like how big you are and how strong." Heather stepped up to me and hugged me, mashing her breasts into my chest. She ran her hands up and down my back as I put one hand on her ass and the other behind her head.

I pulled her head toward me and kissed her on her lips. She responded by pushing her tongue into my mouth. We tongue wrestled briefly until I noticed her hand had slipped past my sash into my robe. I turned my head to my wife.

"Yes, well, Ashley is going to leave us alone now, right, Ashley? You are going out until Heather leaves?" Ashley, who was still by the door, reached for her jacket and purse and left.

By the time I had turned back to Heather, she had one hand on my cock and the other down my back with a finger plying my butt crack. She renewed the tonsil play as fast as she could. She dragged her other hand out of my butt crack and used it to push my robe off my shoulders. I reached up and grabbed both her tits and squeezed. This bought forth a moan of delight.

My robe fell and she began kissing my nipples.

I slid my hands down and grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and wrenched it up to her armpits.

I hunched over to suckle at her breast. She shucked her T-shirt across the room. I suckled the other breast. She pushed me away to put both hands on my cock. I kissed her lips again. She slid down my body, kissing as she went. I grabbed handfuls of her hair and pushed her down past my belly button. She worked my cock and massaged my balls. With two hands in her hair I drew her head up and shoved my dick in her mouth. She took it all.

And I do mean all. Her nose was pressed into my belly, her chin tight against my balls. I pulled her head off and dragged it back again. And again. And again...

Such a blow job - so different from my dainty wife.

I glanced down at her head and beyond. Her small tits hung, bouncing with our rhythm, her hands were fighting with her pants. I didn't want to come yet, so I dragged her head up by her hair until she was standing, kissing me again. I could taste myself on her tongue.

I slid down her body, kissing as I went; her boobs, her stomach, her belly button, her pubs. I finished the fight with her pants by dragging first one pant leg over her foot, then the other. I thrust my face into her box, tongue first and flipped her clit fiercely. She moaned.

We were both naked now.

I flicked her clit harder, lapping the sweet juices that were flowing around my face. She moaned harder and grabbed my head. She pulled me up.

"Fuck me," she murmured as my head went past her mouth. When I was fully standing, she put her arms around my neck and lifted both legs around my waist.

"Fuck me!" she said, sliding her pussy up and down my lower belly. I reached under her ass to find my cock and place it at her doorway to heaven. She slid down all the way on and with a growl shouted, "Fuck me!!"

With both hands under her butt I lifted her nearly off my prick. Then I dropped her down. She moaned.

After a few strokes I realized that we were still in the foyer. I began to walk us to the nearby couch.

Heather seemed to understand that we were moving. "Over there... on the rug... in front of the fireplace..."

Eventually I got there. I carefully collapsed down planning to put Heather on her back so that I could fuck her harder. She rolled us over so that I was on my back and she was riding me.

"Grab my tits..."

I reached up and squeezed one in each hand.

She moaned and said, "Harder, pinch my nipples... Oh yeah, harder!" She reached down and started to play with her clit.

She moaned as I rocked my pelvis under her cunt, pinched her nipple and reached around to see if I could find her asshole. That made her turn a 180 so her backside was facing me. I wasted no time in soaking my finger with saliva and jamming it up her pooper shoot.

"Holy fuck... I'm cumming!" she wailed as her ass went into hyper drive. A few more strokes and she collapsed.

I slowed my piston-ing and relaxed for a moment or two.

"Don't stop... don't stop... oh god, don't stop..."

I maintained my slow pace until I felt her beginning to bounce once again.

"From behind, fuck me from behind, doggy style..."

We changed positions and I drove deep into her cunt once again.

She pounded back against me as I rammed her. I grabbed her tits from behind and twisted her nipples hard.

"Oh, yeah, harder! Oh fuck, twist those nipples... harder!" she screamed.

I twist them again, then I reached back and used a free hand to wallop her backside. There was another scream and a big red hand print formed on her right cheek.

She reached under and began to play with herself, occasionally slipping her fingers over my thrusting dick. Her moans were constant, in time with our pounding action.

I walloped her again and again, finally I reached under and twisted her nipples again - hard! That was all it took. She screamed, "I'm cumming, I'm fucking cumming again..."

I didn't slow down. I kept on pounding away, drilling for a gusher.

Her moaning went up an octave or two. She slid down so her head and shoulders were on the floor. I grabbed her hips and kept them in position while slamming into her. I was nearing my explosion. "I'm gonna..."

Before I could say cum, she had slithered out from under and had pushed me over on my back. She grabbed my juicy dick just behind the head and squeezed tightly. She held on until I started to deflate. She looked me in the eye and announced, "You're not finished until I say so!" She swung one leg over my head and dropped that juicy pussy right on my mouth. "Shut up and eat me!"

I ate. I didn't have a choice. It was either that or drown. I licked up and down her slit lapping up her liquid and playing with her clit. Meanwhile she played with my dick, making sure it got hard again and stayed that way. I managed to get one arm free so I reached up to put a finger in her pussy. One wasn't enough. She wanted more. I put in two, then three, and stroked them in and out in time with my tongue on her clit. Then I bathed my little finger in her copious juices and rammed it up her ass.

She missed a beat in her blow job, but quickly resumed her strokes.

I think it was the wriggling fingers that finally gave her her third orgasm of the evening. She came, mewling and moaning as I continued to pump her holes.

Eventually she sat up and ordered, "Put that fuck stick in my ass. If you do a good job, maybe I will let you cum!" Then she simply crawled down until my prick was under her pussy. She sat up with her back to me and reached behind to grab my cock and place it where she could sit her ass on it. She slid down my pole until it was buried deep in her bowel. With her hands on my knees she began to lift and drop her pelvis at an ever increasing speed.

I may be dumb but not so dumb as to announce my cumming again. I just lay there until I could not hold back any more, then I painted her shitter white. She wasn't far behind. About a half dozen strokes and she came for number four.

"Well," she announced, "that was fun, but I guess you're done for the night." She bounced up and went for her jeans. "I don't know why you guys can't cum twice, but I'm outta here." By this time she was dressed and headed for the door. "Maybe we can do this again some time..." she picked up her purse and was out the door. "See ya!" drifted in on the billow of air as the door closed behind her.

I felt like I had been run over by a truck.

Chapter 3 - Serena

"The thing is," I said to Ashley the next morning as we sat at the breakfast table, "this is supposed to satisfy me. Not her, not that she was satisfied after four orgasms. Christ, I didn't have time to even see her body, she was a freakin' whirling dervish. This girl this Saturday had better be a lot more complacent. Oh, by the way, no blow job today."

Tuesday I had my morning blow.

Wednesday came. I passed on the blow job. Ashley went to work and to the evening meeting. I went to the pub. She came in at 2:30 am.

Thursday at breakfast, Ashley was looking tired. She didn't have my coffee ready. She was in an old ratty housecoat that zipped up the front. I think I mentioned that I am not at my best in the morning before I have my coffee. She put a plate of greasy fried eggs on the table. As she turned to go back to the stove, I rose behind her and reached under her arms for the lapels of the housecoat. With one strong flex, I ripped the zipper down the front and pulled it over her arms. I turned her to face the table and pushed her forward until she had to bend over it.

"Bend over the table." I muttered in her ear. She did. I pulled the house coat down to a puddle on the floor - she was naked under it. "Spread 'em."