A Rich Fetish

As I stepped back into the closet, away from the better light in the sewing room, I noticed a folded piece of paper had fallen on the ground. It was a blank title deed for an address in the apartment complex. Sarah's maiden name was written in ink in the appropriate box. At the bottom, where the franking stamp was supposed to be, was a rough sketch of the stamp. Whoever had drawn it had no artistic skills whatsoever. Written next to it, again in the same spidery script as her name was, You know what you have to do to get the real thing.

Sarah may have. I, however, was bewildered.

The next, much thinner, envelope, contained a simple one-page valuation of, I presume, the big diamond ring. It was valued by a business in the next major town over. I picked up the big ring box and looked inside again. Holy effing hell, so that's what $132,000 or a five-carat diamond looks like. I'd guessed it to be the real thing the first time I looked at it, but it blew my mind that it could be worth so much. I put the ring and paperwork back. As an afterthought, I looked at the valuation again. July 2014. Jenny was only a few months old at that time. Was there any significance to that period? None that I could think of.

Moving a pile of desk calendars near the back of one shelf revealed two boxes of morning after pills. The calendars themselves were marked with Sarah's cycle. In my haste to look at the rest, I didn't think too long on their significance.

The rest of the documents consisted of envelopes marked by years, that, on inspection, contained receipts. I glanced at one. Victoria Secret. Matching bra, pantie, and suspender belt-maternity. Upstairs we had a similar hoard of receipts. Sarah kept them all, just in case she had to return anything.

That left only the DVDs. Subconsciously, I knew they would end any hope of Sarah's innocence I had left. There were six of them. Three marked with different initials and dated shortly after our engagement. The other three were all marked AK. One was from three months before our wedding. The second, seven years later. The last, as previously mentioned, from just under two years ago.

I looked at the DVDs and then at my watch. Decision time. I was already exhausted from one sleepless night and suspected what was on the videos would rob me of many more. As in, for the next year or two. I had responsibilities with three children to look after. So, after texting my sister to ask if she could look after Cindy again the next day, I went to bed. If Sarah's only crime was to rob me of this family time, she had already committed a big one.

*****

DETAILS OF GETTING THE two elder kids to their respective schools and dropping Cindy off, aren't relevant. Suffice it to say, at five past nine on Thursday morning, I was in the living room loading the first DVD into our player.

As I walked back to the family room, case in hand and heart already pounding, I re-read the label; SJ 20^th September 2005. I'd proposed to Sarah in September of that year. Was that significant? I didn't know. Further musing came to a halt as the sound of Sarah's voice issued forth from the television. I turned and fell onto the couch, my worst fears realised, not by the images that met my eyes, but by the words she was exchanging with SJ.

"So, you want me to role-play being your wife and allowing a man you've sourced to seduce me?"

"Yes, that's it in a nutshell. But you know this already."

"I know, but humour me, Steve. You talking to me about it helps me get into character. It makes me wet."

I groaned. Bad enough she was about to fuck another man, but a wimp who got off on seeing his wife screw other men?

Steve inhaled loudly. "Okay. Um, I've brought you one of Josie's dresses, along with some of her underwear. As you know, you have pretty much the same coloured hair, but you'll need to put it up in a clip—Josie always wears her hair up during the day."

They went on to discuss the nicknames and endearments Steve, as I now knew him to be, and Josie used.

Steve passed Sarah a bag which she tipped onto the bed. She proceeded, without the least bit of shyness or awkwardness to strip. Her ease confirmed what one of her ledgers had already told me even if I hadn't wanted to acknowledge it—she'd been naked with him before. That truth fed the knot of betrayal fuelled rage growing in my belly.

She pulled on a dainty set of underpants. They were white and innocent looking. The matching bra was the same. The dress was also white and in a style Sarah had once described to me as a sundress. Strappy sandals finished the ensemble. Sarah moved to stand before a mirror, gathering and twisting her hair into a messy knot held up by a clip.

"This okay?" she asked.

"Yes. Perfect. You could almost be her twin."

"Is that why you like me, Steve? Because I look like your sweet, innocent wife?"

Steve nodded.

"But maybe the naughty version. The one who will do things to and for you that she won't. Right?"

"Yes," he whispered throatily.

"Get off on the idea of seeing her fuck another man?"

Again, Steve nodded. I scowled. What a weak-arsed jerk.

"Want to see her come on another man's cock?" Sarah had dropped her voice to a raspy whisper. "Want to see Josie suck another man's dick?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"I hope you found her a nice big one then. One that will give her a big orgasm."

"I did. It's huge." Steve cleared his throat and adjusted his crotch.

Sarah stepped toward him, palming him through his trousers. "So, is he going to stretch my tight little pussy, honey?"

As soon as she uttered the word, 'honey' I knew Sarah was in character. It was not an endearment we used.

"Is he going to make me squeal and squirm? Is he going to make your sweet little wife scream?"

"God, yes."

"I'll scream so good for you, honey."

Steve moaned. "Fuck him good, baby. Show him what a tight sweet cunt my pretty little wife has."

"I will, Stevie. I promise."

I stared at the screen, shaking my head. It was Sarah, and yet not her. Her demeanour, the way she held herself, her choice of words, even her mannerisms were not the Sarah I knew and had loved for so many years.

Hearing Steve excuse himself, I took the opportunity to study the setting. It looked like a hotel room with a small kitchenette. Behind Sarah, in the corner of the room was a small table set as if for dinner. The guy had clearly gone to a bit of trouble to set the scene as being reminiscent of his home. Sarah speaking directly to the camera ended my perusal of the room.

"Are you listening to this, Josie? He wants to see you fuck other men. Lots of other men. This is not the first time he's had me role play this sort of scenario. Hell, it's not even the tenth time. He likes this scene a lot. It turns him on like no other. Are you hearing me? He wants you to be his slut. He wants to loan you out to strangers, to his boss, to clients, your neighbours. He wants to watch you take cock after cock after cock. He's just too afraid to ask you. That's why he's been coming to me for nearly two years. He gets me to shower beforehand using the same soap and shampoo you do. He has me wear your clothes, your perfume, even your used knickers. And then he gets me to pretend to be you and service some guy or guys he's found. Watch and see what he really wants from and for you."

Sarah's speech rocked me to my core. I'd braced myself to see her fucking another man, but this? Suddenly the purpose of the video was clear. It wasn't a memento, or a tool for masturbation. It was a tool, all right, not for pleasure but rather for financial gain. I hit the pause button and dashed down to her sewing room, grabbing the journal for 2005. For each month up to and including September there was a deposit initialled 'SJ". Nothing for the remainder of the year. No large unexplained deposits either. I checked 2006 as well and it was as if SJ had disappeared. If she was or had been blackmailing Steve, where the hell was the trail? She kept a note of every other deposit and withdrawal so why would she treat the blackmail any differently?

Still pondering the riddle, I returned upstairs and steeled myself for the show. The guy Steve had found for 'Josie' was big, at least six-two or three, and heavily muscled. I watched, feeling vaguely nauseated, as the three of them acted out Steve bringing home an old college buddy for dinner. It was like watching a thinly plotted porno from the eighties, which, in a way, I guess, other than the era, it was.

"I'm going to get changed and wash up. Why don't you two, ah, get to know each other while I'm gone?"

"Don't worry, honey, I'll keep Jimmy entertained for you," Josie reassured Steve.

Steve left the screen.

"Here, let me freshen your drink."

Josie rose and walked around to Jimmy's side of the table, leaning over him, and brushing her breasts against his bicep as she refilled his wine glass. She placed the bottle on the table before rubbing his shoulders and arms.

"You're so big and strong, Jimmy. Is that from playing ball?"

They exchanged some more innuendo accompanied by Josie flashing her tits and legs and then Steve re-joined them.

"Stand up, Jimmy."

Jimmy rose as requested and it was clear he was sporting a huge erection.

"Now, will you look at that, Josie," said Steve, gesturing toward Jimmy's crotch. "You did that."

"I didn't, honey. I swear I didn't do anything wrong."

"Thinking about you made his dick hard, baby. Looking at your pretty tits is what got him aroused. So, seeing as you made his cock hard, you need to help him do something about it. You need to let him find relief in your sweet pussy."

Josie shook her head, letting loose a little whimper. "No, honey... please don't make me. I... we shouldn't. It's wrong. I can't. I only want you. I love you. I don't want anyone else."

I gasped to hear her say she loved him. For a moment I forgot she was pretending to be his wife.

"His cock is hard, baby. Achingly erect and hard and you made it that way. You have to do something about it."

"No. Please don't make me. I don't want him, I want—"

"I know you don't want him," Steve interrupted her. "That's what makes it so special for me, baby. It's seeing you do it just for me, because you love me. That's the turn on. So be my good little slut and service my friend."

"You really want me to fuck him? That's what you want?"

"Yes, baby, this is what I want. I want to watch him use your sweet cunt for his own pleasure." Steve turned to Jimmy. "Get undressed."

Jimmy dropped his trousers faster than a racehorse out of the starting gate. As he stripped, Josie (I could no longer think of her as Sarah) did a good job of looking nervous, her eyes darting back and forth between Steve and Jimmy.

Steve stepped toward her, kissing her gently on the forehead before moving behind her. I heard him unzip her dress, easing the thin straps down her arms. It slid down her body and puddled at her feet. He slipped his hands into the cups of her bra, freeing her breasts. He cradled them in the palms of his hands.

"Aren't they beautiful, Jimmy?"

"Yes, they are. They look good enough to eat."

Both men laughed.

Steve released Josie's tits, moving his hands to the sides of her underwear. Slowly, he slid them down her legs until they joined her dress at her ankles.

"Step out of your panties, baby."

"Stevie, please... please don't make me do this."

"Baby, you made his cock hard, so now you need to let him relieve the tension in your pussy. I want you to service him. Make his dick think he's gone to heaven."

Seeing Jimmy at the edge of the screen leisurely stroking his cock made me feel queasy, so I focused on Josie. She had dropped her chin to her chest. Had I not seen the earlier footage I would have believed her to be genuinely reluctant. It was scary how good an actress she was.

"Sit on the edge of the bed, baby."

Like a lamb to the slaughter, Josie stepped out of the mess of clothes at her feet and clad only in her bra and high-heeled sandals, sat on the side of the bed. Steve gently manoeuvred her onto her back, swivelling her legs onto the mattress. He slipped his fingers into her snatch, sliding them in and out. I could clearly hear squishy sounds. I swallowed painfully; Sarah was turned on.

"Steve, please don't. We shouldn't. It's wrong. He'll wreck me. Wreck our marriage. He's so big. My pussy will never be the same. Please, please don't make me."

"Baby, shh, it will be all right. You doing this for me is making me so happy. And, Josie, baby, for all your protests I can't help noticing how wet you are. Wet and getting wetter by the moment, so much wetter."

Jimmy, his engorged cock an angry shade of red, stepped closer to the bed. Josie squeezed her thighs tight against Steve's wrist, turning to look at him worriedly.

"You can do this, baby. You can do it for me."

Steve extracted his fingers from Josie's vagina and brought his other hand to her knees, gently prying them apart. Josie kept shaking her head, but it seemed to me that she allowed him to open her legs quite easily, and certainly enough for Jimmy to slowly knee-walk between her thighs. She made one or two more feeble protests that Steve ignored, and I noted, though it broke my heart, that she didn't take her eyes off Jimmy's big angry looking cock. I knew that look. I'd seen it many times when I'd been the one between her thighs.

Jimmy leaned over her, staring into her eyes. He moved his large hands under her thighs, lifting and spreading them further apart. He didn't attempt any foreplay and I could only guess this was part of Steve's fantasy—his wife was there only to service, to be a vessel for a man to pleasure himself in.

I watched in sick fascination as he positioned his fat dick at the entrance of her vagina. I turned away, not wanting to see the actual penetration, but I knew the moment he entered Josie by her whimper turning into a grunt.

Once his dick was in, I returned my gaze to the screen, swallowing down bile. It burned my throat. How could anyone want to do this? How could they get off on watching another man take their wife? My cock was as soft as overcooked pasta. And the wife? How could any woman want or agree?

On screen, Jimmy was busy pumping while Steve was equally busy stroking his cock through his trousers while trying to undo his belt one-handed.

"Fuck him back, baby," crowed Steve. "Show him what a sweet fuck my slut is."

She shook her head. "I can't. I love you—"

At her words, I cringed, my gut clenching.

"You can, and you will," ordered Steve. "Work your pussy. Milk his cock. Don't make a liar of me. Be my good slut and fuck him good."

Josie sighed in resignation, wrapping her legs around Jimmy's hips, and began meeting him thrust for thrust. Jimmy groaned.

Steve, much to my horror, was clearly entranced at seeing his 'wife' submit to his will. He was now down to his underwear and sporting his own erection. Josie's moans hit me like a punch to the gut. They, too, were something I was extremely familiar with. Paid or not, it was obvious to me Sarah was genuinely enjoying Jimmy's big cock.

"You look so beautiful taking his cock, baby. So beautiful welcoming a stranger into your needy little cunt. And it is needy, isn't it?"

Josie groaned at his words.

"You look so beautiful being my good slut. Does his cock feel good inside you, baby? Is he stretching your sweet little pussy? Does your hungry little cunt love pleasuring his fat cock?"

Josie groaned again but it was almost drowned out by Jimmy's grunt.

"Tell me, baby. Tell me how much your slutty pussy loves servicing his big dick."

Josie shook her head from side to side on the pillow, another groan escaping her.

"Admit it. You like it."

Another shake of the head combined with more groans.

"Admitting you like his big cock pounding into your hungry little cunt isn't going to make you any more of a slut than the moans that give away how much your pussy likes his big dick stretching you. So, say it. Tell me how much you like being my little slut and servicing a stranger."

"Yes! Yes, I like it," she whimpered, as if the words were being torn from her.

"Good girl. Now tell our stranger. Tell Jimmy you want him to visit again when he wants his dick serviced."

"I-I like you using my pussy. I, oh god, I like making your cock feel good."

I flinched, another knife to the heart—that sounded truthful.

"And the rest, baby."

"I, oh Jesus, ugh, want you to use me whenever your cock needs relief as long as Steve says yes."

"Good girl," Steve moaned. "Is he going to make you come? Is he going to make you come all over his cock?"

"Yes," Josie groaned reluctantly. "God, help me, but yes."

Another flinch. More honest admissions lacerating my heart. The words no sooner left Josie's mouth and she shuddered, arching off the bed. I cupped my mouth, dry retching. How many times had she come like that for me? Too many to count.

"So beautiful. You look so beautiful coming on his cock."

No, she didn't. She looked like a traitor.

Jimmy rode her like a bucking bronco, oblivious to her climax. He was too busy chasing his own. He only lasted a few more moments, fucking with many grunts and groans before coming noisily inside Josie.

As soon as he was done he pulled out, not staying to enjoy the feel of her pussy around his softening cock. Without a word, he rose and picked up his clothes and left, his only acknowledgment, a quick nod to Steve.

"My beautiful slut. You were perfect. You took his big cock so well. You made him come so hard."

Before I heard the click of the hotel door, Steve was on top of Josie, pushing his erection into her messy vagina. It hit me—she'd taken Jimmy bareback. I slid from the couch, doubled over, praying I wouldn't vomit up breakfast.

"God, baby, your cunt feels so good, So hot and gooey. So loose and slippery. I love it. I want it to always feel this way," moaned Steve as he frantically humped away at Josie. "I love knowing your cunt is a sticky mess because you fucked a stranger simply because I told you to. God, you feel fantastic."

Either Sarah had missed her calling, or she was as much into the moment as Steve was.

"I was a good girl. I fucked him for you. I was a good slut," she mewled repeatedly as she hungrily thrust her hips up to meet Steve's.

"Yes, you were, baby. You were such a good slut. You made him come in gallons. He's made such a mess of your pretty cunt, but I think my slut likes that. I think she likes servicing cocks. I think she likes me loaning her cunt out."

Josie moaned.

"And he made you come so hard. You came all over his fat dick. What kind of woman comes all over another guy's dick in front of her husband?"

"A slut. Your slut. I'm your slut, only yours," she cried, shuddering as she came for the second time.

That seemed to send Steve over the edge. He came with a roar before slumping on top of Josie, obliterating her from view.

There was no movement on the screen and the only sound was that of two people recovering from a hectic sex session. I sat on the floor with my back to the lounge, stunned. For much of the video, I hadn't been able to see the woman on the screen as Sarah, so convincingly had she inhabited her role as Steve's wife, Josie. It was her body that had given her away—her moans, her whimpers, the way she arched her back during orgasm. These were Sarah. My Sarah who wasn't so mine, after all.

I rose, thinking the film over when suddenly it cut to Sarah talking directly to the camera, now fully clothed.

"Hi Steve. I thought I'd give you a little souvenir of our last time together. I'm sure you'll agree with me, it was memorable. Yes, you heard me right. Our last time. My, ah, situation has changed and while it's been fun, it's time to move on. This little video will never see the light of day as long as you're a good boy and never contact me again. If you see me in public, you won't acknowledge me. If someone introduces us, you will pretend it's for the first time. And you will never, and I do mean never, tell anyone about me or speak of our time together. If I get so much as one whiff that you've divulged anything at all about me to anyone your sweet little Josie will receive a copy of the video. And we wouldn't want that, would we, Stevie?"