tagErotic CouplingsMaryann Becomes A High-Class Hooker

Maryann Becomes A High-Class Hooker

byMaryAnn678©

Ron's sudden death was traumatic for MaryAnn, so much that the first couple weeks after his accident she cried herself to sleep every night. But, MaryAnn was strong, intelligent, and resilient. Once she broke the spell of being a grieving widow her recovery was rapid. Lots of things helped her break her despondency. To start with, she loved her work. She was a features writer and associate editor for a large, regional magazine and a fine one. Her job left little time for moping. Deadlines don't wait.

Also she was a woman of tremendous imagination, and for a woman cloistered in widowhood, imagination was essential. Even after she got over the worst of being a widow, she kept Ron's memory close and loved reflecting on an exciting, and open, marriage. Even now, two years later, every day she found some quiet time to "talk" to him. She was in no way religious or superstitious and she knew she was indeed alone. Still MaryAnn felt better for sharing her thoughts with his essence. She shared the tender ones, the tedious ones, the perplexing ones, even the exciting and passionate ones.

And there were exciting, passionate moments. To remind herself she was a woman, not just a grieving widow, she finagled an out-of-town assignment to the Big Apple where did things she could never have got away with in San Diego. A friend told her of a marvelous club in Greenwich Village devoted to interracial dating – actually interracial sex. In one night she and three black men she had never seen before all realized their fantasies. Their fantasies were for wild sex with a classy white woman. Hers for passionate and unrestrained sex with young men. Those memories too were warm ones. She smiled as she shared with Ron the memory of a huge black man holding her tight and slamming his big cock into her as she cried out in ecstasy. She imagined Ron smiling back at the audacity of his wife.

Exciting too was a trip to Chicago where she tried another hitherto taboo adventure, submission to a dominant she met on the Internet. He had "assigned" her a test to see if she could actually follow outrageous orders. After an adamant refusal she found herself doing what he had "ordered." Leaving her panties and slip behind she went to a mall where she flashed a couple young men. Then, she stood where the light shone through her dress giving a clear outline. The exhibition was so exciting she came home, undressed, and contacted the dominant online. Then at his insistence had wild phone sex with him – all with the help of a dildo.

When they consummated that cybersex affair, her partner invited her to visit him so they could bring the role-playing to real life. It was compelling, even irresistible, Soon she made a "business" trip to Chicago where her phone partner tore her clothes off, spanked her, then took her hard and fast from behind. Just talking about that with Ron made her hot.

Many of her favorite memories concerned Ron. About the time they reached their forties they had promised they would not let jealousy destroy their marriages. Both traveled a lot and both had affairs while on the road. Neither ever knowledge or suspicion of the other's dalliances for a pretext to gain an advantage in an argument. It was just something that happened. They tried discreet swinging with a handful of like-minded people their own age. None of that bothered the marriage. Once people have decided to embrace honesty (as well as other people) it is amazing what they can do. She loved him more than life itself and was sure he felt the same about her.

Both loved the challenges swinging presented. Once Jeri, a former sorority sister and close friend, confided that her husband was also interested in it. Then the friend paused and confessed she, herself, was curious about it. MaryAnn admitted that she and Ron had been swinging. She even shared with her some of her experiences and added that it was indeed exciting. When Jeri said that Fritz had wanted to watch her, MaryAnn knew her friend was on the verge of doing it.

No overt agreement was made but ere long the four of them shared a short vacation in Las Vegas. After a night of dining, drinking, and gambling the four retired to the luxury suite, changed into their bed clothes and met in the living room. This time her friend's husband brought up the subject – cautiously but tit was there. One thing led to another but soon Jeri, her friend, was sharing a couch with Ron and MaryAnn sitting on the floor close together.

Nobody said it but another swinging session was underway, and it was exciting beyond description, perhaps doubly so for MaryAnn. She had discovered that she loved shucking the persona of a no-nonsense journalist and becoming a lusty, unrestrained woman, and she loved to both show off and watch others showing off, all while having sex of course.

This night lent itself to both. At Fritz's suggestion Ron and Jeri started "making out" like high school kids just to see if they wanted to go further. They did. Then they moved on to fondling. At first Ron dropped his hands to on one of Jeri's large boobs, just inside her thin nightie. She moved them away. He, like a persistent teenager, kissed her again, this time more passionately. And, again, his hand went to her breast. This time it stayed. he managed to pull her bodice down and put his lips on the titty.

She responded by holding his head tight against her titties. Fritz whispered to MaryAnn, "She's going to do it. She loves to have her titties sucked, and Ron's doing a great job."

MaryAnn noticed that his arm was around her and his hand was on her own titty. She turned her face to his and they soon were immersed in a hot Frenchie. When they came up for air, Ron had his hand on Jeri's panties and was stroking her pussy through the thin material. Soon he got inside and was touching bare flesh. By this time Jeri was obviously past the point of no return. She was shaking as she held Ron.

They slid to the floor beside Fritz and MaryAnn. What a great close-up view! And as MaryAnn had predicted to Jeri, her husband did indeed get turned on by watching her get fucked by someone else. His finger was by this time caressing MaryAnn's clit and his nose was almost even with Ron's whose face was buried in his wife's pussy.

Both were fascinated at the close-up when Ron moved on top of Jeri and placed his cock at Jeri's vaginal opening. She was in the throes of passion and going all the way. She raised her ass and guided it in. MaryAnn knew Ron wouldn't finish too soon. She had given him a blow job before they had joined their friends. He would have the staying power to give Jeri an exciting initiation to swinging. And did he ever! With two onlookers inches away he slammed it to her hard and fast. She crying, "more more, oh God, more" as she met each stroke.

Soon Fritz moved on top of MaryAnn and the room was awash in wild, exorbitant sex. As Fritz held her tight and slammed it to her hard, MaryAnn met each stroke. Soon they could hear Jeri getting off for the third or fourth time, and Ron was also getting close. All that was too much for Fritz who gave one last lunge and unloaded deep inside MaryAnn.

When it was all over MaryAnn asked, "anybody have any regrets?"

She was answered by a veritable chorus of "No's."

Later, in a different context she wrote, "Everything wildly exciting and outside the public norm doesn't have to be evil. Adventures are better when they are restrained." That referred to snowboarding but it applied equally to fucking.

The swinging was the highlight of the Vegas trip, but there was more. MaryAnn also learned she was a good poker player. Before heading to the room for the swinging party she sat in on a Texas Hold-em game and walked out with two thousand dollars profit -- most of it from a seasoned pro to boot.

Now she was back in Las Vegas finishing up a dream assignment. The interviews over and most of the information put in her computer she headed down to the poker tables. Who knows? She might earn a bonus. Her only worry was tangling with a pro and losing here shirt, maybe her skirt, maybe more. She promised to play it cool. If she shed her clothing it would be for something more exciting than giving money to a stranger.

Even though it was still afternoon she wore a dress with lots of décolletage just as she did the last time. She, a realist and didn't fancy that it brought her luck. She just hoped to gain a bit of an advantage from it. Someone might be distracted by her titties and make an unwise bet. Also, she liked showing off. Hanging in the closet in her room was the expensive and very revealing dress she had worn to the interracial club in New York. MaryAnn wasn't exactly sure why she brought it, but it was there "just in case."

But this afternoon it was poker. She picked her table carefully, looking for one with gamblers a few steps down from the wiseasses who routinely push hundreds of chips into the center of the table on TV. She knew those guys made a living taking money from those less sophisticated than themselves. She wanted folks whose mannerisms she could read, with whom she could get away with a bluff to keep them alert, and folks she could beat with a modicum of certainty. She had tangled with a high-stakes gambler the last time and managed to beat his pants off. She knew the law of averages would prevent her doing that routinely.

It looked like she found the right combination to give herself an edge. She sat in on a table with seven other players. She managed to buy a couple nice pots, once with an aggressive check/raise. Another time by playing aggressively throughout. In both cases the best hand folded. When MaryAnn learned to play by watching Ron in his weekly game she learned that check/raise was considered unethical. In Vegas it was de rigueur. She did it well winning not only the bluff, where she exposed her hole cards, but a couple other times when she had a lock on the table.

After a few hands she spotted him, the professional she'd cleaned on her last visit. She had been so engrossed in the game she had no idea how long he'd been there, but she was sure he had tagged her. Still when he sat down, MaryAnn who had once promised not to tangle with a seasoned pro, welcomed him. For one thing he was as handsome as Brad Maverick and she, flushed with the excitement of winning a few pots, loved the attention of handsome men. She was sure he'd give her close attention. He picked a seat directly across from her and gave her a big smile. He remembered her! Now the challenge she had tried to avoid was just a couple feet away still checking out her décolletage. This guy knew her, her titties, and her tactics. It would be awkward for her to get up and leave, and she wasn't sure she really wanted. She loved a challenge and Maverick presented one.

Obviously real poker games with eight players don't unfold as they do in the movies. It is likely that any two players won't even butt heads. But this wasn't one of those time. MaryAnn did manage to avoid any big losses and was holding her own. After Maverick joined the game her stack was down a little, but she still had a nice profit in the chips stacked in front of her. Then they tangled. After the flop she had ace, queen, jack, ten and nine; with the ace and queen down. She limped her way though, calling big bets and hoping to hit. Finally the last two cards were a king and a nine. She had her straight. Her persistence would be rewarded, and it was a whopping pot to boot. At limit poker, and this was a limit game, folks tend to hang around even when the bets are big.

The hand was checked around to her. She pushed in the limit, five hundred. The others folded, all but one. Her old friend raised back five hundred. MaryAnn should have known better but she raised him again, did it again. She followed the old and, in poker games, very dumb adage of "I can't back out now" and pushed the rest of her chips in the middle of the table.

Maverick smiled and said, "got your straight eh?" She knew she was cooked. He had her read all along and those three bets weren't on speculation. He had three kings all along and the nine made a full house.

She had no reason to flash her boobs at him this time. There was nothing in the middle of the table for her to bend over for. It wasn't a disaster. The two thousand she lost wouldn't affect her lifestyle one whit, but she hated to lose and she was looking forward to having a nice cache of money to spend on something she didn't really need.

She smiled sweetly at her old/new friend and said, "that does it. I'm going to kill myself."

"No you're not. I've had a good read on you all night and you have a lot of living yet to do. . . . Look how about meeting me in the lounge right over there in half an hour. I'll buy you a drink."

"Hmmm, wonder what this is all about,? pondered MaryAnn, but the evening was still young and Maverick was a handsome and witty guy. This might lead to something interesting. She took a seat in a booth, ordered a Chablis, and ruminated with her thoughts. . . and with Ron.

"Well old husband I blew a couple grand. That makes me even for a lifetime of poker, a lifetime consisting of two games and one real opponent, a guy nearly as handsome as you."

No answer of course and she expected none but she did love those moments with his memory, and as in their real life, nothing was taboo. "You remember the first blowjob I gave you darling?"

Her first blowjob had been one of the high points of their marriage, and they had talked about it often. That night they had been to Oceanside to a party. As he often did, Ron skipped the Interstate to take the coast highway, a lovely two-lane road along the ocean and through some small towns. Just north of Encinitas the moon was shining on the ocean. The white caps caught the light and sent a phosphorescent spray shooting back seaward in the Santa Ana wind. MaryAnn snuggled up close. Ron pulled off the road and up to a now empty parking lot overlooking the ocean and the lights from the cities up and down the coast. They would likely be alone unless they created some sort of disturbance. Only an occasional sheriff's deputy patrolled the road and they were more interested in drunk drivers than folks seeking romance alongside the Pacific Ocean.

Parking wasn't an uncommon occurrence for the two. MaryAnn loved the excitement of making it in a car, and Ron loved making his wife happy. She often chided him that the only reason he held onto his classic '56 Chevy was that it had a big front seat and they could fuck without jumping over into the back.

And that's how the adventure started.

MaryAnn continued her conversation, "You remember how hot you got me. God I had my top off and bra unhooked. My skirt was up above my waist. And I always love it when you pull my panties off as you did that night. First you did the fingers thing. Then you went down on me. Oh Ron I always loved that, and when I told you "I love you" as I was getting off, it was real. I do love you. And when I looked down at the man who shared his life with me, and looked back at me and said 'This is special for you MaryAnn' I knew what I was going to do, and it would be that very night there overlooking Moonlight Beach.

"Ron, love, it would be more special than anything I could have possibly bought you. . You always wanted it and I just didn't think I could do it. But, my darling, I wanted to give you something from me personally, something that couldn't be bought in a store. As I was getting off in the car that night I knew what it would be. I'd give you a blow job, and finish it. It would be extra special because I didn't really want to do it.

"I was prepared to be disgusted by it all and worried that I might show it and blow the gig (so to speak) but I knelt beside you on the floorboard in the front seat, moved my lips down your body while holding your balls – and remember how I paused to kiss and suck on your nipples? God you loved that! But I kept going, circling your stiff cock and balls. Then I slipped my mouth over it and it began.

"Oh darling you were so careful to keep from cumming. I could almost feel you holding back. You did allow yourself the pleasure of thrusting deep into my mouth, and I responded by sliding my finger up to your ass and probing a bit. When you held my head and told me 'I'm getting close MaryAnn,' I knew I'd actually do it.

"What were your feelings Ron when I stopped, looked up and said 'All the way this time darling. Don't hold back.' "

She knew the unspoken answer, but loved imagining his giving it.

"You started thrusting again. I pushed my finger up your ass and commenced fingering you. You moved faster and faster. Then you groaned and I stayed the course. Then you cried, 'MaryAnn I love you so much' and it happened. I was so excited and had your magnificent cock so deep in my mouth I didn't feel the first spasm, but I knew it happened. Then I backed off and felt the second. It hit on my tongue and while it didn't taste good, it was you, and I loved it.

"My mouth was full and I had no idea what to do. I didn't want to do something gauche like spit. This was too special for that. You later told me that when you heard me go 'gulp' you were so proud of me. Just like those girls in the fantasy chat rooms I swallowed every drop of you.

"God it was more exciting than I ever thought it could be. I am getting the warmies just thinking about it now my darling. I'd be a pushover for any handsome guy who came along right now, darling."

MaryAnn was lost in her reverie and idly looking watching the lottery numbers on the board when she heard, "So, that smile for me?

"Oh my god," she replied. "It's Maverick! Have a seat and you can buy me that drink you promised –- a Chablis please. I'm a cheap date."

He held out his hand, "Uh, my name's Jackson, and you are?"

"MaryAnn. I'm afraid I was deep in an imaginary conversation with my husband. It's one of my biggest pleasures."

"Imaginary? I suppose it must be. I don't see anybody."

"No, and you won't. He's been dead for two years now. I'm going on with my life quite well, but I hang on to his memory and have the most interesting chats with it. We shared so many exciting things in life. I like to fancy that we're still sharing."

Jackson was moved. "You have a wonderful way of describing that. I'm impressed by anybody who is so imaginative."

"I have lots of imagination. I need it in my line of work."

Jackson leaned forward, apparently interested in MaryAnn's line of work. He asked, "And what is your line of work?"

"I'm a journalist and I'm here on assignment. The poker game was a sideline, expensive but, sideline."

"Oh," sighed her new friend.

"You sound disappointed. What's wrong with being a journalist?"

"Nothing. It's a wonderful vocation. And I always find journalists to be the most interesting people. Hell they have to keep up with what's going on then make it interesting enough to read." Jackson paused then continued, "It's just that I assumed you were something else."

"Surely you didn't make me to be a professional poker player? You just took me to the cleaners."

"Oh no but, I think you are the best, new poker player I've seen in a long time. You also cleaned my clock two years ago. Your only problem at poker is experience. Most of those guys you see on TV have been at it a long, long time."

Why thank you. I know people and that may be the best thing to bring to the table, other than a good understanding of the odds. And, with one exception, I try to avoid playing against the smart players who will take my money. But, I'm all agog. What did you think I was?"

"Oh hell, I don't want to offend you, but both nights we played you made the comment that you were a 'working girl.' You know what that means on the Strip?"

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