The black limousine purred discretely down the avenue. In the back, Marilyn straightened her husband's tie and stroked his face reassuringly.
"Okay, honey, this is our first 'trick' and it's just the sort of thing you'll enjoy. We're meeting a lovely couple at a painfully respectable hotel. They've taken one room and we have the adjoining one. All we have to do is open the door between them and no one else will ever know what happened."
"A couple? Why would a couple hire another couple for sex? Can't they get what they want with each other?"
Marilyn grinned. "Don't ask how I know but there is this funny thing about some people. Most johns pay for sex because either they can't get any for free or they can't get the kind they want from their wives or because they're looking for hot, young and beautiful. That's common knowledge. However, there is another reason that very few people know about. For some people, and I include women in this, paying for sex is a fetish. Laying out the money on the nightstand and seeing their sex-worker pick it up and stick it in a wallet turns them on. No, I'm serious! Why would many of Shirley's friends hire pro's four times a year when they can have orgies by themselves without laying out a grand a couple? They get off from it."
"And these 'clients' of ours belong to the party?"
"Uh-huh. They've already paid for my pussy once and now they're going to pay for it again while paying you to ball the wife. And no, they aren't fat and ugly or hard up or bizarrely kinky—except for this one fetish."
"So, how much are we getting for this trick?"
"I only asked a thousand. That's what they paid for the party and we're just rank beginners in the hobby whore gig. Besides, the man was my favorite Humanities teacher in high school. I'd let him have me for free if he wasn't so excited about paying. And you will love his wife!"
Brenda Lynn Seems brushed her long, silver tresses down over each breast and regarded herself in the hotel room mirror. The wispy waif who'd danced naked in the rain and the mud at the Summer of Love was long gone but forty years of daily yoga since then had left her with a figure that still turned heads when she walked down the street. She ran her hands down the taught belly to where the silver on her head was matched by a neat triangle below and thrust her hips forward. Mark was going to enjoy earning his fee.
"You are the most delicious thing, dear" Leonard Seems cupped his wife's right breast in a warm hand. "Thirty-five years and three children later, I still can't keep my hands off of you."
"Or your cock out of me." She kissed him over her shoulder. "But tonight you'll be sticking it into that little thing you used to obsess over in your class. And to think we're having a private party. I'm getting all juicy just thinking about it."
"Now don't go talking like that! Get me too excited and I won't be able to get my money's worth out of Marilyn for assaulting you. It's not like I'm nineteen, any more."
"I shudder to think what you might have been like at nineteen, dear. When we met you were twenty-four and you were pretty impressive even then. None of my other lovers had figured out how to be multi-orgasmic and the first time you did me all night long? Phew!"
"And I still can! I've been told young Sylvestre can, too." He wiggled his bushy, iron-grey eyebrows. "I have it on good authority that we will be in for a long night."
Brenda Lynn hummed and ground her hips in anticipation. "I'm so glad we decided to spend our entertainment money this way instead of boring ourselves silly at some respectable resort. Swinging is all very well but you can never be sure what your new partner knows."
Leonard pulled his wife close and started running his cock up and down the cleft of her ass. He licked the shell of her ear until she affectionately slapped his cheek. "Get your tux on you terrible man! We are supposed to meet them for dinner downstairs in ten minutes and I need to be properly draped."
Anyone at another table that night would never have guessed what the middle-aged and young couple who sat chatting amiably over dinner were about. Only a single bottle of wine was consumed and the dinner itself was a light one.
Can't have full stomachs slowing down the action, tonight
, Marilyn thought to herself.
Shirley says that Leonard will probably fuck me so long I'll walk bow-legged tomorrow. Just for that, I'll have Mark do the same to Brenda! Fair is fair, after all. If Leonard wants more come tomorrow night, he'll have to take her up the butt. I bet that's how I get it.
Dessert was a frothy lemon mousse and when it was gone, Leonard signed the bill and the foursome walked arm-in-arm to an elevator. Leonard had visions of pulling Marilyn's low neckline open as they ascended but unfortunately, the car was already occupied so everyone remained decorous until they returned to their rooms.
"Just one thing, honey," Mark said to his wife as he prepared to unlatch the door between the two rooms, "Am I spending the night next door or coming back after some particular space of time?"
"Fuck her 'til she begs for mercy, Mark, then snuggle her to sleep. I'm sure that's what Leonard wants to do to me and Shirley insists he can. Since neither of us knows how long that may take, I'll just plan on seeing you in the morning. Then we can all go down for breakfast."
"Go down for breakfast? For some reason I have this feeling you're going to want room service. I don't think the dining room chairs are that well padded, after all."
"Perhaps, but we can decide that tomorrow. Right now, unlock that door so we can start earning our fees." She kissed him soundly and turned back towards the neatly turned down bed.
Brenda Lynn sat on an equally ready bed in the next room, her thighs trembling slightly in anticipation. She glanced at the envelope on the nightstand and then smiled at her husband. "Have a good time, Len, and screw that little minx right. We may have to order room service for breakfast if you guys do us proper."
She moaned internally at the thought of being pounded sore. She knew plenty of her fellow fetishists who reveled in the sting of floggers or riding crops but that kind of pain wasn't for her. What she loved was her pussy burning and sore from the previous night's use. The door latch clicked, it swung open and her husband and Mark nodded cordially to each other as they traded places. Mark quietly closed the door behind him and smiled broadly at Brenda. She stood and came to his arms for a long, deep kiss. "The money's on the nightstand. You'd better count it to make sure I've got it right."
Nodding urbanely, Mark made a ceremony of slowly opening the envelope and counting out the twenties. He licked his thumb between each bill, drawing out the process until he could see Brenda fairly dancing with anticipation. "Yes, five hundred dollars, exactly right. Now, my dear, let us proceed."
Slipping the envelope into the inner pocket of his tux, Mark reached up and undid the fastening behind the woman's neck. He pulled the straps forward and let them fall and the evening gown collapsed into a satin billow on the carpet. He stopped long enough to hand his jacket over the back of the club chair then pulled her in close.
Brenda felt his right hand run down her back, undoing each hook of her strapless brassiere while his left dove under her panties and fondled the taught ass inside them. When the bra fell away, he caught her hair in his fist and pulled her head back. Bypassing her mouth, her hungrily kissed, bit and licked her exposed throat.
Oh, he's good,
she thought,
so civilized and so savage at the same time. I was right. We will have to order room service for breakfast. I'll probably still be sore Monday morning.
"Oh Mark," she whispered, "you animal!"
In the next room Leonard took the envelope from his pocket and formally presented it to Marilyn. She curtsied in reply and put it in her purse. "Here, Mr. Seems, let me help you with that coat." Once his coat was off, she pressed her hips against his and undid his bow tie, shirt studs and suspenders. This was quite a trick given that she was grinding her pelvis against his growing erection at the same time. "Dear Mr. Seems, if I'd known you felt this way about me back in class, I'd have snuck out with you at the senior prom. You were always my favorite teacher, you know."
He grabbed her upper arms but she pushed him away. "Sit on the bed, darling. Let me put on some music . . ."
A smoky tenor sax began to moan from the stereo over thud of a bass drum and the snarl of wire brushes on a snare. Marilyn cocked her head sideways, stuck out the tip of her tongue and, raising her arms over her head, swayed out into the center of the room. Hips swinging, shoulders shimming, head thrown back and mouth open, she gave herself over to the music. Eventually, she tilted her head forward to look at Leonard through mascara-ed eyelashes. She winked seductively and slowly unzipped the back of her dress. Sequins sparkled as it fell off her shaking shoulders and slid down her grinding hips. Undulating in long slow waves, she turned slowly around to show her client how she undid her bra and let the straps drop down each side. Holding it in place she faced him again to let it slide down her arms and onto his lap.
"I think you like these, Mr. Seems," Marilyn smiled and lifted her breasts with her hands. She pointed them at the older man and massaged them sensually, pinching the nipples erect. "Do you want to fuck them? Ah-ah! Not yet, Mr. Seems, I still have too many clothes on, and so do you, sir."
