From: an333212@anon.penet.fi Reply-To: an333212@anon.penet.fi Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: My wife the call girl (voy) Date: Fri, 20 Oct 1995 03:49:13 UTC Organization: Anonymous forwarding service Message-ID: <035317Z20101995@anon.penet.fi> Last March I changed my normal pattern. Instead of going into my office, as I usually do, I decided to stay home and work in my home office on my computer. There's no problem with that where I work, as long as you get your work done. I'm 26 and have been with my company for two years, not that it matters for this account. My wife, Celeste, is 24 and terrific looking. She is 5'4" with long, jet black, straight hair. When we moved to this city two years ago she didn't have a job -- or really much experience. But she soon caught on with a real estate company and was bringing in a fairly good income. The hours were, well, odd. Sometimes she would have to leave early in the morning -- more often she would be working late. I really couldn't complain since she was making very good bucks -- in fact, quite a bit more than me. I was working in my office at about 10 AM when I heard her come in. She obviously didn't know I was home or she would have said something to me. I was putting the finishing touches on a report, so I didn't say anything. I heard her go into the bedroom and start rummaging around her closet. I was about to say something to let her know I was home -- but I heard the phone ring. "Yeah Stan" she said, picking it on the first ring. "Ten minutes!... OK, how much did he say?... All right, I'm putting on my work clothes right now. I'll be ready." I was more than a bit confused. I figured that Stan was her boss who had taught her the business. I had met him before -- an early thirtyish good looking blond guy who drove a very customized Porsche. What got me confused was her reference to work clothes. She didn't have to wear that goofy gold jacket that other real estate agents wore. She said that was one of the attractions of the job. She had left for work that morning wearing her standard business suit. I couldn't figure out this meant. What I should have done is called out and asked her what was up. What I did do is to creep outside the bedroom door and peek inside. There was Celeste, standing in front of our full-length mirror, brushing her hair. She was wearing a light purple negligee that showed off her nicely rounded breasts. I had never seen her in a negligee before. Normally she didn't seem to get off on anything that kinky. Or so I thought. I could barely see her nipples in the mirror, even through the room was quite well- lit as the sun shown through the window. She put down her brush and began to apply a very dark purple lipgloss which made her look rather mysterious. I just stared at her. I noticed that my cock was swelling up very rapidly and decided that I would see what happened. I heard our doorbell ring. I quickly moved into the kitchen, which is situated so that I could see into the living room, and if the door was left open, into the bedroom. Celeste trotted over to answer it. I saw Celeste and a middle-aged man, about in his late forties standing by the door. He seemed to be about 5'10" with a noticeable bald spot. He looked nervously around as he handed Celeste an envelope. "There's six hundred there" he said as he took off his coat. He may have been nervous, but I could see from the way he was staring at Celeste he was not displeased. "Stan said that it was five hundred, but I figured that if I added a little extra, you'd add a little extra, too." "That's sweet," Celeste said, and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm sure we can work out something." She took his coat, folded it, and lay it on a chair. Then she put the envelope on the table, without checking its contents. Celeste always has had the ability to make people feel at ease. She has a sweet, almost girlish smile and a soft laugh. She has always been able to get people to do what she wants without seeming to put pressure on them. They ask her if they can do whatever she has been wanting them to do. It always worked with me -- but I never minded. She's not an overtly controlling person -- but I know she likes to be in control of most situations. The two of them sat down on the sofa in the living room. I learned that "Jeffrey" was from Columbus, Ohio. His wife was at their motel and he "really appreciated" it that he could see Celeste here. Celeste (whom he called "Tracy") offered him a glass of wine which he took and seemed to drink fairly rapidly. The wine had the effect of relaxing him. I heard him say how he had never done anything like this before and Celeste told him not to worry, everything was going to be just fine. She asked him to tell her something about himself, and while he was talking about his furniture business, she began running her foot on his lap. I could see that she was also wearing dark purple polish on her toes. "Am I distracting you?" she smiled sweetly. The crotch on his pants was starting to bulge up and he was shifting around. "You're sweating -- let me make you a little more comfortable" she said as she starting unbuttoning his shirt. He was obviously pretty excited because he took her arm and pulled her close to himself. They started kissing passionately as they sat on the couch. I stared at the two of them going at it, and as quietly as possible, dropped my pants to the floor. Celeste had always been a responsive lover. But I had never seen her so aggressive. I started stroking myself and could tell that I was getting harder and harder more rapidly than ever. After a few minutes she broke away from him and whispered something in his ear. I couldn't hear what it was, but Jeffrey sighed and lay back. Her small hand made a quick bee-line for his zipper and began to pull it down. I noticed that her finger nails were also coated with purple polish as they struggled to pull down his fly. "Just help me a bit with this, please" she told him. He raised himself up and she started pulling off his pants. She moved in front of him for a moment so I couldn't see what was going on. But she pulled off his pants and boxers and folded them neatly and put them of a chair. I could see his cock bob in the air for a moment before Celeste turned back to him with a wide smile. Both her darkly tipped hands encircled his swollen member and her puple lips sank to encase the reddish head. Jeffry moaned and thrust deeper into her oral cavity. I heard my wife moan and watched her twist her head, bobbing her slick lips up and down his staff. I knew first hand what that felt like. My prick leapt at the memory of her skill. Now I was beginning to see how she got so damned good. Her customer's hand was under her lavender lingerie, obviously exploring her wet pussy. Celeste's hips were rising and falling, the cock still being slurped noisily by eager tongue and lips. He didn't last long under her voracious attack. She accelerated her pace, squaling around his meat, as her cheeks puffed, filled with cum. Swallowing, she gasped a breath, showering her cheeks anf nose with the next eruption. Gamefully, she dove back down and captured the rest between loving lips. Jeffry was making strangling noises which softened in tone and harshness as he finished. My wife kissed his cock farewell and sighed, relaxing beside him. "That was . . . amazing," he choked out. "Um, you were fantastic, too, Jeffry. Would you care for another glass of wine while I freshen up?" Instantly the gracious hostess, Celeste served him then coyly took her leave. It wasn't until then that I realized I was leaning weakly against the wall. I'd cum all over myself and the carpet. As if my brain had been temporarily shut down, a backlog of thoughts washed through me. My shy, delicious wife a high class call girl? I'd just witnessed the proof. Her "boss" Stan her pimp? Obviously. How long had she been fucking men for money in our own home? A year and a half. How many had there been? Hundreds. She returned a few minutes later, her lips freshly purple and raven locks brushed. She sat beside him, chatted easily with him, causing me to marvel at her relaxation and the way he responded. Her nails tickled his scalp and her breast brushed lightly on his arm from time to time. It dawned on me that she was actively seducing her trick, reawakening his depleted middle-aged libido. He lit a cigarette, offered her one. Another stunner - she accepted, smoking it like a seasoned pro, teasing Jeffry, using it as another tool of her trade. That, more than anything else, made me realize just how little I knew about my wife. It took her another fifteen minutes to get him hard. She delicately rolled a condom over his dick, sat astride him and took him into her visibly lubricated cunt. She wriggled, rose and fell for nearly ten more before Jeffry filled the rubber. Five more, and she escorted him to the door, amidst promises to get together the next time he was in town. My wife flopped into a chair with a loud sigh and drew deeply on the second cigarette he'd given her. "Well," she said, apparently to the air, "I'm glad you finally know, darling. Have a good time?" I shambled out, feeling more embarrassed that anything else. "Celeste? How could you?" She tapped the unopened envelope with a purple nail and blew smoke at the ceiling. "Besides, I like it. I'm good at it." "So I see," I said, trying to find my anger. All I found is my hard-on. "I saw you jacking off," she said nonchalantly, spreading her legs. Why don't you fuck me this time?"