A Sexual Switcheroo

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Who do you make love to, and who do you fuck?
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I was feeling like a loser despite my success in business. I had a security consulting business, and I traveled over a good deal of the Western United States, including a number of casinos in Reno and Las Vegas. The reason that I was feeling like a loser was because I strongly suspected; in fact knew; that my wife was cheating on me. Rachel and I had been married for five years; it was my second marriage.

My first marriage lasted only eighteen months. I wed when I was eighteen years old and divorced before I turned twenty. My first wife, Denise, was (and still is) big, buxom, brash, and blonde. I really - and I mean really - enjoyed fucking her. However, it was a year after our nuptials before I realized that we never made love. We just fucked. While physically I was well satisfied, emotionally I was not - and Denise came to the same realization that I did about a month after I did. We had no real assets to split up so the break was not acrimonious, and until I became exclusive with my wife Rachel, Denise and I got together about once a week for a night-long fuck session.

Then, at the ripe old age of twenty seven, I wondered how I had gotten myself into the situation that I was in, and how I could get out.

I guess the main problem is that I am a trusting guy. I'm above average in looks, size, and smarts, at least as it relates to my business; apparently in dealing with women, however, I was stupid.

I thought that Rachel was the perfect counterpoint to my first wife Denise. Both are good-looking women, but that is where the similarities end. Rachel is small, petite, understated, and cheery, the opposite of Denise. Also, when Rachel and I had sex it was love-making, not just an animalistic ritual. It was still satisfying physically, although maybe not as much as with Denise when I fucked her doggy while holding onto her pendulous honkers, but great, and so emotionally rewarding!

In the case of Rachel, we'd been married long enough, and were successful enough, to accumulate some decent assets including a condo that we owned together in a suburb of San Francisco. We bought it at the bottom of the market, and it would have been hard to replace it at the relatively low monthly costs that we were then incurring.

I was about to get a big bonus at work, and I was thinking of how I might be able to squirrel that away to keep it as my property when we separated. Other things were going through my mind also, such as could I kill her Paramour and get away with? Could I inflict as much pain on her as she was inflicting on me? Why in the fuck had it happened? Am I so out of touch with reality that I think I am a great sexual partner when in fact I'm inadequate?

It was with these thoughts roaming through my mind that I ended up in Reno doing a consulting job for several casinos. While prostitution is not legal in Reno, it is legal in a number of other locations throughout Nevada. Of course the fact that it is not actually legal in Reno does not mean that it doesn't exist there. You just have to be a little bit careful in dealing with organizations where prostitution is legal, and if you are the chances of an arrest for prostitution - for either the prostitute or the John - is negligible.

Having lost my appetite for Rachel's otherwise delectable pussy once I found out about her cheating, I was a horny little dude in Reno. I checked with the most reputable and diverse call girl organization in the state, which had branches in Reno and Vegas. They could actually have a legal office within the city limits as long as any contracted work was allegedly done where prostitution is legal.

Trixie - a great name for a call girl "representative," isn't it - was very happy to talk with me about my situation. Somewhat as a surprise, she told me that if I was willing to get tested for STDs, and pay a premium, I could even get a girl that did not require use of a condom. Also I had a wide variety of choices related to experience level, size, and age. I decided that what I wanted was an inexperienced call girl who was mature; someone who was nothing like either Rachel or Denise.

I looked through the catalog of possible escorts, most of them provocatively dressed or undressed, as the case may be, and with "fuck me" looks. I probably would've been happy with any one of them, except for the five or six that looked the most like Rachel or Denise, but the mature woman on the very last page piqued my interest.

Her name was Carolyn. She was the only one in the entire catalog that had a "scared" look rather than a sexy one. She also was not dressed nearly as provocatively as the others, and probably had five pounds more on her waist than would be considered desirable by most guys. However she had beautiful light brown hair, there was something about her face that intrigued me, and she did appear to have nice big tits.

"What's the story with Carolyn?" I asked Trixie.

"You're the first person to express interest in her," Trixie laughed. "In fairness, though, she's only been in the book for two or three weeks. I got the feeling when interviewing her that this is the last thing on earth that she wants to do, however apparently she has a desperate financial situation."

"How old is she?"

"She says that she's 33, but I think she gave me a fake ID; I will bet that she's closer to 38."

"What's her rate?"

"$300 for three hours; $500 for the night."

"And she's clean? No STDs?"

"I have her certificate right here," Trixie replied.

"So you think she might be skittish?" I asked Trixie.

"Like I said, it's her first time, and I don't guarantee anything, except your money back if she doesn't go through with it. However, why take the chance? We had so many other girls..."

I interrupted Trixie before she could finish her sales pitch. "Let's do it this way; I'll pay her one hundred dollars to meet at a bar and talk. After our talk if she's not skittish I'll take her to my room for two hours. Then I promise to give you a full report. How does that sound?"

Trixie pondered for a second and then said "I need to check her out anyway; you got yourself a deal. Give me the $300 now and I'll refund $200 if she doesn't go through with it, or if for some reason you don't want to."

The next night at 8 o'clock Carolyn showed up at my hotel lobby. We pretended like we were having a business meeting when we went into the bar and sat at the table furthest away from the dance floor. It was obvious that Carolyn was very nervous, although that could not have been because of how she was dressed. No one, and I mean no one, would mistake her for a call girl dressed like she was. She had on a completely opaque blouse with sleeves, a skirt that ended just below her knees, only two inch heels; and little jewelry or makeup.

Despite her nervousness, Carolyn was fairly easy to talk to, and while she certainly was no rocket scientist, she was far from stupid. However, when I tried to touch on her financial situation she seemed to clam up. I wasn't trying to get her drunk, and she and I each had only two drinks. I did get her onto the dance floor with me when two slow numbers were playing, and I liked the way that she felt in my arms even though she didn't stick a leg between mine, and I didn't try to press my boner into her torso. After about seventy minutes I asked her to come upstairs with me. She seemed hesitant, but agreed.

When we got upstairs, however, and I started gently undressing her, her nervousness turned to tears.

"I'm not sure that I can do this, Brad," she whined. "I'm desperate, but I'm also married. I'm just at such a loss..." she started to say, and then couldn't finish.

Rather than being angry, for some reason this really turned me on, seeing her so vulnerable and conflicted. I even imagined a movie being made from it called "The Reluctant Call Girl," which made me smile to myself.

"Why don't we sit down and talk about it for a while" I said as compassionately as possible. Rather than bolting, she sat down. At that point her blouse had three buttons undone but none of the real "goodies" had been exposed since she had a significant bra on underneath her blouse. There was enough cleavage, however, to get me hard. I held both of her hands as we talked.

Either this woman had a real tale of woe, or she was a wonderful con artist. She told me about two miscarriages, losing her job as a showgirl because she was thought to be too old, losing her job as a dealer at a casino, her husband losing his job when he got ill, and how her husband had a serious medical condition that likely would lead to his demise within a few months. She was already in hock up to her eyeballs and had no way to pay for the medical costs that they were incurring. Her situation would have been truly hopeless except that she and her sick husband were able to live rent free in her middle class mother's second bedroom in her suburban apartment.

I commiserated with Carolyn the best that I could. As I did, I couldn't help notice that she really was an attractive woman. Even through her bra her knockers seemed to be winking at me, that part of her legs that I could see looked real nice, but more important than her appearance was her genuineness. Also, there was something else about her that I couldn't quite put my finger on that was very intoxicating; maybe it was her pheromones.

After about half an hour of relating to me her tale of woe, Carolyn suddenly got self-conscious. "I'm so embarrassed that I've opened up to like that, but except for my mother I have no one else to talk to about my situation. I know that you're just looking for a good time, and I'm so sorry that I can't provide it because you seem like a truly nice guy."

With the warmest smile that I could muster, I squeezed her hands and said "Tell you what Carolyn, let's make a deal. Why don't we just go dancing and I'll tell your employer that I'm happy with the situation so that you get paid. Also, if you're willing, if you sleep with me tonight - without sex - I'll pay you $200 in addition to whatever your employer is paying you."

Her face brightened up; "Would you really do that? You'd promise not to have sex with me?"

"Yes, I would, although I can't guarantee that I wouldn't massage your obviously delectable boobs; however, there is a condition," I said, all with a sincere smile.

With a truly expectant look she asked "What...what condition?"

"When I come to town next week I want to make arrangements to see you again. Not through your employer, but just you on your own. If you agree to have sex with me at that time then I'll pay you $1000. If not, I'll pay $200 and we'll just go dancing again."

Carolyn seemed to think about this for the longest time; it probably was only a minute or two but it seemed a lot longer. Finally she said "Thank you Brad, I agree to your proposals."

She washed off her face, I insisted that she not put any more makeup on, and we went out. We danced for an hour. Then she came back up to my room after making a phone call to mother, and we slept together. I had a T-shirt and boxers on, she had her bra and panties on. True to my word, I did not try to have sex with her, although I did place my hands on her boobs, and when we woke up her head was on my shoulder. I gave her $200 cash, paid for her parking, and gave her a passionate kiss just before she got into her car. The kiss seemed to both fluster and excite her. She smiled and waved as she drove away.

When I got home to my "loving" wife Rachel, she said that we had to talk, the words that a man least likes to hear. I was expecting her to say that she was going to dump me, which would not have been so bad except for the fact that I did not yet have my financial situation arranged so that I didn't get raped in the divorce. To my surprise the "talk" was quite different.

"Brad, I realize that I haven't been a good wife recently. I don't know quite how to tell you this, but I have had a short-term affair. I feel very, very badly about it, and it has been eating me up inside. I promise you that is terminated, and I want to show you that l love only you. What do I need to do for you to forgive me?" Rachel blurted out in an obviously rehearsed tone.

After a long delay during which she made doe eyes at me and I'm sure that I flushed and got wide-eyed I wasn't sure exactly how to play this. My suspicion was that she realized that I knew about her affair, or at least strongly suspected it, and that she was making this preemptive attempt at reconciliation because she too was not ready to split right now. I did not seriously consider forgiving her, or reconciling with her, but I didn't want her to know that yet.

My deliberative reply was "Wow, Rachel; this kind of catches me by surprise. I don't know quite what to say. I do know that your revelation has made me feel inadequate, and probably explains your lack of sexual interest in me over the last few months."

"Darling, you certainly are anything but inadequate. You're a wonderful loving husband, and sex God. I kind of got the impression that you weren't interested in me the last few months and I didn't want to push things. Let me show you how much you mean to me," she said. Then she got a diabolical look on her face, crawled over to me, unzipped my pants, fished out my cock, stroked its head, and then deep throated it. I do mean deep-throated it, something that she had never done before.

I'm only a man, and to be honest I was quite mentally aroused by my experience with Carolyn so my juices were really flowing. So I simply leaned back and enjoyed the best blow job of my married life, imagining that Rachel was a hooker and not my wife. After I shot my wad I recovered quite quickly, especially since she was fingering her naked pussy in front of me, and then enthusiastically pinched her nipples as she rode me hard, and for a second time within an hour sucked every last drop of cum out of me, this time by squeezing her pc muscles.

When I woke her up in the middle of the night I fucked her like the three dollar whore that I now considered her to be. I determined that I was not averse to staying with Rachel until I could get my financial situation squared away if she kept being amenable for fucking.

Physically, the sex with Rachel was better than it had been months. There was no emotional component, however. It was like I was back with a small-titted snug pussy version of Denise. That was okay by me, and it came to be more than okay.

My contract with the casinos in Reno was a continuing one so that I had to spend two nights there during each of the next six weeks. I was really hoping that I could start fucking Carolyn because I really liked her and was highly sexually attracted to her. I knew that she had a lot of emotional baggage, but I thought that a relationship with her was worth a little drama.

I invited Carolyn to dinner before my second trip to Reno. She'd already told the call girl agency that she quit, because it was not her thing despite her financial hardships. When I heard that I was very optimistic that I would soon be porking her because her financial problems were not simply going to disappear. However, I took a cautious approach when I met with her, and after exchanging a chaste kiss on the lips, I didn't say anything about my offer of $1000 for her to have sex with me until well into the evening.

After dinner, dancing, and even seeing a short play, Carolyn was all smiles. When we exited the play she squeezed my arm and said "I can't remember the last time that I had this much fun; my husband's been too ill to do anything the last eight months, even if our finances would have allowed a great night like this."

I smilingly replied "We can have even more fun, and you can address your financial situation at the same time." With that I gave her a passionate kiss, which she returned in kind, including throwing her arms around me. Apparently she had made up her mind.

When we got to my hotel, I slowly undressed her, while applying kisses as I did. This time her reaction was very different from the last time. Carolyn cooed and moaned, and stroked my head and shoulders as I removed each item of clothing. When I removed her bra I visibly gasped as her tits popped out. They were magnificent. They looked so delectable that I had to stop and suck them before removing her panties. This really caused her to moan, and when at the same time as I was sucking her tits I put my hands under her panties and squeezed her ass cheeks she suddenly turned into a wild woman.

Carolyn started ripping my clothes off, squeezed my rock hard cock, and once it was exposed pushed her panties out of the way and my cock toward her slit. To say that her crotch was "moist" would be the understatement of the year. I had some difficulty snaking my cock into her pussy because it was so snug, but once I did I picked her up by her ass cheeks, pushed her back against the exterior wall of my room, and started pounding.

Carolyn gave herself to me completely. She squeezed my cock with her pc muscles, stroked my back with her hands as she held on tight, and kept whispering into my ear. At first I thought that she was saying "fuck me" since that is something that I might have expected her to say. I soon realized, however, that she was saying "thank you," not "fuck me." I found that bizarre but highly motivating. I scrubbed her vaginal walls with fire hose quantities of my seminal fluid as she laid her head on my shoulder and gently bit it to keep from screaming.

That night I may have gotten two hours of sleep, maximum. Every waking moment I spent sucking her tits, licking or fucking her pussy, or rubbing her head as she cleaned up my cock. I know I had four orgasms, and she had too many to count. When I handed her $1000 in cash the next morning she looked like she wanted to decline it, but knowing her financial situation I knew that there was no way that she could. However, when she said "I'll only accept this if I can pleasure you tonight for free," I was one happy camper.

Since I was still high on adrenaline and endorphins the next day, I was actually productive at work. In fact I even found a flaw in one of my client casino's security system that was likely to save them $1 million a year; they were thrilled.

By the time that Carolyn arrived that evening around 6 PM, however, I was starting to crash. She noticed." Brad, let's just order room service and we can snuggle. You wore me out last night, but hopefully by the middle of the night we both will have recharged our batteries and we can do some more serious exploration of each other's bodies."

Wow, did that ever sound good to me!

We fell asleep with the TV on shortly after dinner. We woke about the same time in the middle of the night, went to the bathroom, turned off the TV, and then engaged in the sweetest lovemaking session of my life. After our simultaneous orgasms, I had the most peaceful night's sleep. The morning was even better, when Carolyn woke me up by sucking on my cock and once it was to her liking rode me bouncing up and down like she was attached to a bungee cord.

The next six weeks were perhaps the strangest of my life. I was getting good physical sex without any emotional attachment from my wife Rachel and at the same time I was making love to my call girl friend Carolyn. That was a truly ironic switch from the normal situation; I kept asking myself "Shouldn't it be the other way around?" but in view of Rachel's cheating and the escalating affection I had for Carolyn it wasn't going to be.

Carolyn had also supercharged my entire being. I got by on less sleep, came up with a number of new innovative techniques for my clients, and saved them scads of money. Since my compensation was in part dependent upon how much money I saved them, I was due to get a very large bonus, larger than what I had expected when I started to conceive my plan of squirreling the bonus money away so that Rachel couldn't get at it when we divorced.

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