How Natalie Became A Wifewhore

"20, 30, 50, more?"

"Maybe more, I don't remember."

Hours later he let me sleep. When I woke up he was gone.

The next day he was waiting for me outside the office building I worked in. He took me by the hand and led me to a small dingy bar across the street. We sat in a booth at the back and he ordered our drinks. We sat in silence for a while listening to the crappy pop music in the half darkness of the smoky room.

"I have something to confess too." He said.

"What?"

"I have taken digitals of you asleep naked and posted them on the net."

"Jesus, Paul."

"Remember the pics I took of you getting out of the shower ...?"

"You said you deleted them," I interrupted.

"You have quite a fan club Natalie. And we will have other, better pictures soon," he said.

"We came here for you tell me that?"

"No, sweetie, we came here for a bit of fun. There's a glory hole in the men's bathroom. Whores work this place at night. I thought we might start here."

I smiled and began to cry at the same time. An old, but familiar heat began to radiate in my tummy. I had forgotten the power of my sexual need after several years of marriage. But still my mind was panicked even if my body instinctively drawn the idea of my whoredom. I looked around at the men standing at the bar paying no attention to us. They were business types mostly, slugging back a few quick whiskeys before heading back to their wives and children. I was dressed for the office; a tweedy fitted jacket and matching skirt with a white buttoned blouse. I stood up and slipped my jacket off, drawing looks from the men gathered at the bar. Now the heat was pulsing through my pussy lips. I let my jacket fall and bent over to pick it up; lingering knowing I was being watched. I had masturbated to the idea of men watching me like this in a place like this so many times before I was married. I could feel the collective intake of breath in bar and it burned its way up through my breasts and exploded like fireworks in my nipples. I turned and looked at Paul. He eyes were sharp with an intense excitement. For the first time in days he smiled at me. I smiled back and then walked slowly towards the men's bathroom.

It smelled of men, a primeval smell. There were three stalls and in one a hole had been cut. I went in, locked the door and sat on the edge of the toilet. Soon the bathroom door opened letting in a crash of sound from the bar. I watched a pair of smart black city shoes walk past my stall and turn into the next one.

"What's your name sweetie?"

"Natalie," I replied. The situation reminded me of confession.

"You looked too pretty and classy to be a prostitute but I'm not complaining sweetie. The usual price?"

"Yes," I said, my mouth suddenly dry.

He slipped a twenty through the hole and I heard him unzip his pants. I knelt down on hard, cold tiled floor. He fed his semi-erect cock through the hole. I reached up and touched it, feeling it jump and harden. I gathered the spit in my mouth and like silk I lowered my mouth onto his cock. I registered the groan of his pleasure at the tip of my clit. I steadied myself with one had against the stall wall while I held his cock with the other. My lips made rapid passes over his now swollen, bursting cock. I pushed my head forward until the head touched the back of my throat. Then I pulled my skirt up over hips and pushed my panties aside so that I could feel myself swim in my own desire. He came suddenly without warning, gushing his cum into my mouth. I swallowed.

Once he had left I adjusted myself and walked out back into the noisy bar. I sat next to Paul and kissed him, allowing him to smell the cum on my breath. He observed the wet stains on my blouse where it had spilled.

It was the next night that my husband introduced me as the paid-for whore to two businessmen at a motel near the airport. This time I was dressed the part; a short black mini and a cut-off tee that exposed my belly and no bra.

"The pimp is staying to make sure we get our money's worth," the fat one said to his colleague.

"Don't you worry, he replied, "this whore is going to be well fucked."

When the first one entered me from behind, his thumb pressed hard into my ass, I turned and let Paul look at my face. I silently mouthed, "Is this what you wanted?" He nodded.