Second Honeymoon Goes Wrong

Gloria seemed to come on to him. Of course that was part of her job, even though she wasn't a hostess -- he'd have to pay extra to fuck her. But he didn't dismiss the idea that it might be genuine. After all, he was 6'2", totally buff, with a full head of hair. He carried himself like a rich man -- women liked his kind of man. No reason why Gloria should be different.

Whatever. Around 10:30 he went back to his room to take a shower. But then instead of opening a book, he went down to the lobby to find something else to do.

If you put a bull in a candy store, eventually the bull is going to eat some candy.

But that wasn't really part of the plan. He got a cup of coffee and sat down with a local newspaper. Checking his watch he noticed it was just past eleven. Yvonne, he thought. And he got up to stake out the elevators.

A couple other guys were there as well. He recognized one of the teachers from yesterday, looking to fuck his pupil.

Only a few girls emerged from the elevator before 11:30. Indeed, there was more traffic going the other direction as yesterday's hostesses left for home. But as the clock approached noon, each elevator arrived full of fresh pussy.

Edward was afraid he wouldn't recognize Miss Yvonne. But that turned out not to be a problem. First, like all the others she came with a name tag.

And then she really was more beautiful. She stood 5'5", buxom, with light brown skin and black hair. Only 18 years old she had girlish features and a perfect complexion that didn't need any makeup. She wore a brown dress darker than her skin -- tailored to her bust and waist. Sleeveless, it fell to mid thigh, held in place by a zipper in the back. It looked really sexy.

"Hello Yvonne," he said, smiling. "Remember me?"

"Of course I remember you, Mr. Edward. I was hoping to see you again," she said smiling.

He slipped his card into the holder on her handbag before giving her a tight hug and a kiss on the lips. He broke the embrace suddenly, realizing that he didn't want his wife to know about this. He'd better not be too public with his affections. The word might get around.

"I'm glad you made the cast. Was it a close call?"

"Not any more than usual. I get a slight advantage because I'm going to school. But I don't get cast every day."

It was hands-off until they had privacy. Since other people were in the elevator he actually pretended he wasn't with her. He envied the guy with his hands across his hostess' boobs.

The door to his room hadn't even closed behind them before he shoved his super-hard cock tight against her and squeezed her ass under her dress. He felt for the waistband of her pantie, pushing it down with his thumbs until it slipped down her thighs. She wriggled out of it.

He stepped back to get a better look at her, lifting up her skirt to show.

"I like girls who aren't shaved," he said. "My wife has a full bush."

"I don't like shaving. I used to let my guests have at it. Then it took three weeks for it to grow back, and in the meantime it didn't look good. Now I don't shave unless they pay me extra."

"You have a beautiful pussy," he said, massaging it with his fingers. "I'll never ask you to shave."

He stepped behind to admire her butt -- soft, feminine, clear and youthful skin. She spread her legs for him as he explored her crotch from luv hole to ass hole. He decided then that he'd take her doggy style.

"You're really clean -- even your asshole," he said, complimenting her on her grooming.

"I just took a shower off-stage. You're my first guest. I can't keep it as clean later."

"I'm a lucky guy." He slid down the zipper on the dress. He undid the bra clasp and pushed the straps off her shoulders. She removed her bra.

That left her wearing only the dress. It was too tightly tailored for him to slide his hands underneath up to her tits. So instead he reached around from the back to massage her medium-sized, luscious breasts. I gotta get a look at those.

But that wasn't how he wanted to do it. He liked banging a girl with her clothes on. It made her more mysterious. He'd strip her after he fucked her, not before. So for the moment he'd just have to imagine what the tits looked like.

Pulling an easy chair away from the wall, he pushed her down over the back. "Get your cunt up there so I can fuck you." She obliged. "Spread your legs or you'll get it up your ass." Her bare feet moved apart six more inches. Edward dropped his shorts.

His hands got her wet, first with a massage, and then with a full-fledged finger fuck. She got glassy-eyed, dripping pussy juice. His tool started to play, gently at first. He entered her, but didn't quickly push all the way in. Slowly, slowly he worked his way to the goal. By the time he was up to the hilt she was moaning.

He started to pump. Slowly at first, then faster. In a few minutes he was pounding her as hard and fast as he could. She screamed in ecstasy. He didn't have to work long -- he shot his load in great gobs.

She cleaned him up, stripped off her dress, and together they lay on the bed, resting. He admired and caressed the naked girl.

He got housekeeping to clean up the room again, making sure he disposed of the condom. He spent the day thinking about Yvonne, and by the time his wife got back he was horny again. She got a post-pedagogical screw.

Chapter Six

Charitably, they invited two hostesses to join them for dinner: Rose (the dance teacher) and Barbara. Edward dubbed her big-boobed Barbara, or Boobsie for short, because that's what she was. He really wanted to reach out and touch someone--not his wife. Oh the frustrations of visiting a brothel with his spouse.

Sarah kept Rose on staff, and the three of them danced until midnight.

The next morning they got up early to go birdwatching with the group. They took Rose with them, again just for charity. (Not that Edward minded.) Edward wanted to do it, but Sarah found she enjoyed it. "Povera sure has some pretty birds! Just think! I saw a red-winged wobbly warbler! Or something like that."

On their fourth day Miss Mollie joined them for breakfast. "Are you having a good time?"

"Yes," said Sarah. "I'm surprised, but yes. I really like teaching at your school. And your hostesses are nice people." Edward nodded agreement.

"I hear you speak French?"

"Yes -- I studied abroad in high school. I can also speak German and Chinese. And some other languages less fluently. I like languages."

"Wow," said Mollie. "How'd you learn all that?"

"My parents are German, and we traveled to Germany a lot when I was a kid. I have lots of cousins over there. And then I majored in Chinese in college. That included a semester living in Shanghai. I've kept up with it even though I'm not using it professionally right now."

"We have an international clientele here," replied Mollie. "Bilingual English and French is essential for us. Having somebody who spoke German would be really helpful. And Chinese might come in handy, too. What are your other languages?"

"Spanish. If I could find time to live in country I'd be fluent. As it is I practice conversation with our household help at home. And then Italian, which is sort've an average between French and Spanish. I can understand it. I'm starting to learn Russian, but I can't really speak it yet."

"I really need somebody like you," said Mollie, mostly to herself.

"What are you getting at?" asked Edward.

Mollie smiled nervously. "My problem is that Elizabeth, my general manager, is very sick. I don't think she'll ever be able to come back to work. I have to get back to Toronto, and I need somebody to fill in for maybe a month or so until I can find somebody permanent. You'd be almost perfect," she said looking at Sarah. "Actually, you'd be almost perfect as a permanent replacement, though that would mean living in Povera."

Sarah and Edward looked at each other. They both looked at Mollie.

Edward broke the silence. "You said almost perfect. What's that supposed to mean?"

Mollie fidgeted, as if struggling to figure out how to put this. "So you may have heard that we separate the building into on stage and off stage. The people who work off stage -- for example the security guards, and many of them are men -- are people from the community. But we have a rule that everybody who works on stage has experience working as a prostitute.

"In fact, right now, I'm the only staff member here on stage who has never been a prostitute. That's why I'm probably not a very good general manager. The hostesses have much less faith in my judgement because they don't think I understand what they go through every day. But I can get away with it because I own the place."

Sarah looked near tears. "So you want me to be a prostitute?"

"Just for one day. The girls won't trust you unless you know what they do. Beyond that, every woman on stage is in principle available for purchase. The hostesses are included in the price, but staff members put out for an additional fee. Elizabeth got bought out several times a week. And an attractive woman like you might get more business. But we can set your price really high so that you'd hardly ever get bought out. Say $500 per hour."

Sarah and Edward were silent. At least it wasn't a flat-out no.

"What time does your plane leave on Saturday?"

"10 pm" answered Edward.

"So that'll work. Tomorrow is Friday. If you want to do this -- and it is your choice -- you need to be at Ronaldo's office on the first floor by 10 am tomorrow morning. Your shift will start at noon, and you'll be done at 11am on Saturday morning. Plenty of time to get to the airport if that's what you decide to do."

Sarah and Edward had a decision to make.

Chapter Seven

Neither of them slept much that night. Sarah really didn't want to be a prostitute, but on the other hand she loved the idea of being general manager.

Edward had to get back to his job and would get on the plane anyway Saturday evening. Then, half joking, he said "Shit. We might as well buy the place. You could manage it while I take care of the business."

Sarah stared at him, astonished, wondering how serious he was. "Where would we live?"

"We'd have to live here, of course. ... Not a very happy prospect, is it."

Sarah let it hang. But without being a prostitute for a day all options were foreclosed. After a couple hours sleep they both dressed and took the elevator down to Ronaldo's office.

"Missus Sarah!" the foppish man declared. "I'm so happy to meet you." He took her hand and shook it vigorously. "Miss Mollie has told me lots about you...all good things, you understand." He glanced back at Miss Mollie, standing behind him.

"And you, too, Mr. Edward. The pleasure is all mine." He greeted Edward with equal gusto, limp wrist and weak grip notwithstanding. "It's not often we have a married couple joining us like this." Edward thought he wore perfume rather than cologne.

Speaking again to Sarah: "We will skip all the bureaucracy. Yes, you're obviously over 18 so we don't need to worry about that. And Miss Mollie says we can assume you've made cast -- so we'll skip that step. Have you already showered this morning?"

She nodded. She'd meticulously cleaned every last nook and cranny of her body.

"Good. We'll also skip the doctor's visit, at least for now. I assume you've taken care of yourself?"

"Yes," Sarah answered, not quite sure what that was supposed to mean.

Miss Mollie interjected: "If you do decide to stay as general manager we will ask you to visit the doctor. It's really important that we maintain hygiene, and you will need to know how we do that. We'll schedule that for tomorrow afternoon, if that's what you want to do."

"I agree," said Ronaldo. "We can't bend the rules too far. But for you, Missus Sarah, I'm happy to bend them a lot." He grinned broadly. "Though I think you need to be 'Miss Sarah' now."

"I'm not so sure," offered Miss Mollie. "Men are attracted to other guy's wives."

She shouldn't have said that. "What are you trying to do?" Edward demanded. "Humiliate me?"

"No!, no," said Mollie, apologetically. "But you're quite right. She needs to be 'Miss Sarah' today." And then she added the candy. "Ronaldo, can you please let Mr. Edward accompany you on your rounds this morning while I help Miss Sarah ready for the day?" Addressing Edward: "You can be Miss Sarah's first guest if you'd like. Though you can't keep her all day -- that defeats the purpose."

Edward looked appeased. Sarah followed Mollie out of the room to begin her orientation. Edward followed Ronaldo into the adjoining locker room, where a young woman was waiting for him.

"Hello, Marina. I'm sorry to keep you waiting." He offered her the effusive, happy handshake. "This is Mr. Edward. He is training as a new employee here. We need to hurry up now and see if you get cast. Come on -- let's go."

They literally ran down the hallway to the audition room. Ronaldo grabbed her newly-issued card and swiped it through a reader. "That's how you audition for the day. You have to swipe before 10:30. And you just barely made it -- it's all my fault, I'm sorry. But we did get you here on time." The clock on the wall read 10:29. "If you're lucky, in a couple of minutes your number will show up on the monitors over there."

There were about 70 girls in the casting room, who like Marina were all dressed in dowdy street clothes. The room smelled of sweat and dust. Nobody looked like a prostitute, though Edward thought many of them were attractive.

As Ronaldo predicted, in a few minutes about 50 numbers showed up on the monitor. "Did you make cast?" asked Ronaldo, grabbing her card again so he could see her number. "Yeah, there you are -- 5243. You made it!" He smiled happily at her. She didn't look all that pleased -- more in dread than anything.

"Today will be a very hard day for you," he told her as they walked back to his office. "Men will strip you, grope you, fuck you, and tease you. You won't enjoy it. But if you get through today you will have more money than you've ever had in your entire life. And you will have the choice of whether or not you want to work here again.

"But if you can't finish this first shift, you may still make a bit of money, but you won't be given a second chance. So steel yourself up for it."

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, looking her straight in the eye.

"Yes," she answered, determinedly.

"Good. Remember -- on stage you are happy and cheerful. No crying and no complaining. If you can't be happy and cheerful you have to leave stage for a few minutes."

The first stop was to get her a handbag, shoes, and underwear -- Marina chose pink. They walked back to the locker room. "Pick an empty locker. Put your clothes and all you personal possessions in the locker. And then put on your underwear. Remember -- your underwear and shoes are barcoded. You have to keep those with you -- otherwise you'll be fined. We don't want you sharing your underwear with anybody else."

Marina stood there, confused. There were some other girls changing clothes nearby.

"I'm sorry Marina. You need to strip down and put your clothes in the locker. You're going to spend a lot of time being naked today. You might as well get used to it. At least we're not gonna touch you."

Finally she hopped to. First she took off the sweat pants, and then the tee shirt. The pantie (such as it was) came next. She put on the lace, pink pantie from the storeroom. Then she untied the old piece of cloth that served as her brassiere, letting her attractive tits free. (Edward got a hard-on.) That was replaced by the pink bra that fit her C-boobs nicely. Everything got put in the locker.

"Rachel," called Ronaldo to another girl nearby. "This is Marina's first day here. Can you help her with the showers?"

"Sure," said Rachel. "Happy to do it. But we have to hurry. Follow me."

Ronaldo confided to Edward that "this is probably the first time she's ever taken a shower, or for that matter experienced hot, running water. It'll be a treat for her."

Chapter Eight

At about a quarter to noon, Mollie and Sarah reappeared at Ronaldo's office. Sarah was dressed in a red mini-skirt -- to mid thigh -- and a white, buttoned-up, short-sleeve blouse. She looked more like an office worker than a prostitute. But Edward immediately got hard.

He walked over to give her a hug. "No can do," said Mollie. "You have to wait until she's on stage and has your card before you can touch her."

Ronaldo gave her a variation on the speech he delivered to Marina. "Today will be a very hard day for you. Men will strip you, grope you, fuck you, and tease you. You won't enjoy it. But if you want to be the general manager, you need to be happy and cheerful when you're on stage. So steel yourself up for it.

"Are you ready to go?"

Sarah looked to Edward for encouragement, who stared impassively back at her. A glance toward Mollie did more to reassure. "I guess I'll go through with it."

"Edward can be your first guest," said Mollie, smiling. "As soon as you cross the red line he can give you his card, and then at least you are on familiar ground for the first hour or two."

They all walked toward the employee elevator at the back of the building. "Go to the fifth floor lobby. You'll cross the red line as you leave the elevator," suggested Mollie. "Edward will be right behind you."

Sarah swiped through the turnstile at 11:52 am. And so her day as a prostitute started.

And sure enough, as they stepped out of the elevator they crossed a red line painted on the floor. Edward immediately put his card in the pocket on her handbag, and the little red LED light came on, indicating she was spoken for. Then he reached out to escort her -- not in the polite way a husband would touch his wife, say with a hand on her back. No, instead he grabbed her tightly by the ass cheek.

"Edward! Please..." she said softly, to no avail. "You're embarrassing me."

"If you're embarrassed by this then you'll never get through the day. And you're supposed to call me Mister Edward. Let's go get a cup of coffee," and he steered her over in that direction.

Neither of them had had much for breakfast and they were both hungry. Edward knew what his wife wanted to eat and fetched it for her. They sat in the coffee shop as married couples often do.

When they were both finished he said "Clean the table."

"What?"

"Clean the table!"

Not used to taking orders, she sat for a moment dumbfounded. Deciding not to argue she threw the garbage in the trash, and with a few spare napkins wiped down the surface. Then she took her seat.

"Come stand over here," he said, pointing between his thighs.

Sarah didn't appreciate this command any more than the last one, though again she obeyed. "You promised you weren't going to humiliate me."

"I'm not trying to humiliate you. I'm just treating you like a prostitute." He again grabbed her ass, this time reaching under her skirt. After a few seconds he caught the elastic of her pantie and started pulling it down.

Sarah grabbed on to resist. "Edward! Not here in public!"

"You should call me Mister Edward. And if you fight me I will complain to Mollie. Then you'll never be general manager."

"Why are you being so mean to me?" she asked, on the verge of tears.

"I'm not being mean. I'm just doing what every man in this room would do if I were to take out my card and let them have at you. This is what prostitutes do. And if you start crying then Mollie will certainly hear about that."

The resistance went out of her and he pulled the pantie off her butt, which everybody could now see since he'd lifted up her skirt. As the only white girl in the room she attracted attention.