Selling Wife's Pussy for Cash

I was just horsing around after sex one Sunday morning and jokingly called Claire my sweet little whore. She turned toward me abruptly and gave me a look that made me immediately regret my words, then--after a rather long and pregnant pause--she smiled and said, "Well, how would you feel if that was true?" I said I didn't mean it, apologized, and told her I was just joking. "I'm asking if you would take the money if my pussy earned it? Could you handle a whore-wife?"

I figured she was still pulling my chain and shrugged, then laughed and made a face. "I mean it," she said. "What if I could sell it?"

"You're serious?" I said.

"As a heart attack," my wife answered with a determination that rocked me back on my heels. "Would you be able to accept your wife making cash with her coonie? We could put money away for the house, you know." She was right, we were always talking about saving money for 'our fantasy home' and she had used the perfect strategy, the old sentimental favorite, the dream-house ploy. "You're always saying that sex is just sex, it's not love, that being faithful is more than just who you don't fuck, right? So could you accept me making money with my womanly charm, my vagina?"

"You really would consider having sex with men for money," I asked, "being a prostitute?"

"We could buy a house!" she argued again. "It would be a steady job, always a market. No union dues, layoffs, or getting up early."

"You could do that?"

"Actually it sounds kind'a fun to me," she said smiling. "If I made it, would you have any hesitation spending it, or would you turn it down because of how I earned it? You called me a sweet little whore. What if I was one? You handle that?" she said with a challenge in her voice.

"Sure," I said finally, being as stubborn as she. "You could do it, I could handle it. It might be a ball to be the husband of a whore, pun intended."

"Then it's settled." she said, making sure I knew she was not fooling around. "I'll call Gail tonight and ask how to go about it. She used to be a hooker, you know. Remember her?" I did and said so. "Well, I'll see what she thinks. Find out just how we should go about it. Your wife the lady of the evening. Got a ring to it."

I finally began to believe she really meant it, and I started to warm up to the idea. We began to talk about it seriously, like it was a real possibility. I wondered if she'd really go through with it. After getting off the phone with Gail, she turned to me and smiled. "Okay," she said, as if something big had just happened. "We're on our way."

That night we decided we should go on line, set up a website, as Gail had suggested. She said that was the only way. I even began to get excited about the idea, and yes I even began to think about the house.

Like Gail had advised, we created a website, set it up, decided on a hotel, then picked a day to start her new business. I began to actually get used to the idea of my wife as a money maker, even if it was selling her pussy to strangers. In the first two days she got twenty calls. After the calls started coming in, we rented a room at the Carlton, a suite actually, so I could be there next door. We knew to avoid any connection to where we lived. She had agreed to meet five of the callers, and she started getting herself ready around noon, showering, shaving her legs and pussy, making sure her hair was perfect.

With help from my work computer, we did background checks on the callers and we were almost ready for her 'new job.'

At seven we left home for my wife's first night of 'work.' We got to the hotel and I put my hand on her arm. "It's not too late to change our mind," I said.

"What? After all that shaving? No way. I'm ready to fuck for money, my man. Stand back and let me work," she said with a laugh. When the night was finished she had fucked five guys and made nearly $2500. The next night she had sex with six men and took in $2000. My PTA wife had earned in one weekend what it takes me three weeks to make.

In the next two weeks she fucked her way to over $10,000, In one month, I figured in my head, that she would take in over thirty grand. The next weekend she did twelve guys in two nights and made herself another ten grand. At that rate, I realized, she could make over $500,000 a year.

I figured after all that sex, she would be worn out, but it seemed to energize her and we had more sex after she started 'working' than ever before. She decided she would work a couple of times during the week, then it turned to three, and she finally ended up doing five days a week and making as much much as twenty thousand a week. Of course, not all girls could take in that much, but with Claire's looks and her love of sex, she was easily one of the highest priced call girls in the county. In one year at this rate, we could have our dream house with a lot left over.

With her very first customer I moved the chair in the adjoining room close to the door and put my ear close to the doorknob. I could only hear murmuring, not really what was said, but after a short time it got quiet and then the bed began to squeak. I pictured her fucking him on the bed and I have to admit it was a bit of a turn on.

I was nervous and when I heard a door close I went in. She asked if I would wait for her to knock on the wall, in case her 'customer' was coming back in. She didn't want to freak him out. With her third one that night I stayed on the bed and read a magazine, only listening with one ear. There weren't any problems and with the last guy I actually dozed off and was awakened by a door closing. Then I heard her knock on the wall.

Her first customer asked her how much for oral. She told him the fuck was five, oral was three. Then he asked her how much if she swallowed his cum. "That's another three hundred," she said off the top of her head. He fucked her, then had her suck him off, then when he came she swallowed everything. She made $1200 from that one 'john' because he gave her an extra $100 as a tip. She was beginning to pick up the terminology. When I came in she held up a handful of bills, hundreds, all one thousand, two hundred dollars.

That night the third customer said he only wanted her feet.. He sucked her toes for five hundred dollars. She told them all her ass was off limits and one guy asked if he could just kiss and lick it. She said, "why not?" and pocketed three hundred for a quick and easy ass swabbing.

After a while she began to get regulars, and she liked that a lot better because she knew what to expect. One wanted to just fuck her and go. He barely took thirty minutes. Another asked her to call him daddy, she did and he fucked her from behind with her on her hands and knees on the bed. One guy asked her to talk dirty to him, telling her to demand he "fuck her in her dirty pussy" and for her to say "let me suck your hungry cock."

In six months she had it down to seven regulars. She kept the "toe" man because she said it just seemed like a nice person with a little toe fetish. She dropped the talk-dirty-to-me guy after two weeks because she said he creeped her out, but she kept the doggy-fuck fellow and by the time she only had regulars she said she felt comfortable with all of them. She was then fucking only three days a week but bringing home more in two months than I make in a year.

We had to account for the increased purchasing power so she applied for and got an accountants license and is now an 'accountant on the side. She pretty much has her days free, so she volunteers for charity work and is very active in the PTA. Claire is now a member of the Chamber of Commerce and on the city advisory board for new development in the area. Claire has her own car, a spiffy new sports car with flame detailing and a stabilizing wing on the back.

Her friend Gail started hooking again, after Claire's success, and now they both use the Carlton. The hotel gives her a lower rate now, because she is such a good customer, and they call her Mrs. Grant. They smile knowingly when she comes in, although she doesn't often use the lobby, but goes straight to "her" room. They are by now well aware of what goes on in room 211, but they smile and give her a warm, friendly nod when they see her in the parking lot or for some reason she has to go through the lobby.

We woke up this morning, had slow, lazy sex, then just read the paper in bed. "Hows my little whore today?" I asked with a look away from my paper. She said my little whore was more than fine and said she was thinking about investing in the Carlton Hotel where she 'works.' I put the paper down and we made love again, her money-making persona began to turn me on.

"I get so hot when your vagina makes us rich," I said as I pushed into her.

She has been at it now for three years and she is beginning to realize she may not be able to work the sheets forever. She spends less time in bed now away from home, and has two young women who 'work' for her and they also operate out of the Carlton. Claire handles the advertising, does the background checks, and assigns the sessions. They still call her Mrs. Grant at the hotel, but now she is part of management.

We now own a second home, a rental, and just between us we call our dream home the "Pussy Palace." She knows her working days are numbered, no one wants to fuck his grandmother, but she can manage more girls and still be my hot whore-wife. I have never regretted agreeing for her to go into the sex trade. I look back and smile at the memory of the night she asked me if I could handle her fucking for money. Yeah, baby, I can.