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Whore For A Night

byEnglish Bob©

The only sound was the rain swishing against the windscreen as Joe Taylor tooled the old Ford through the wet streets. His wife, Miranda sat beside him silently. They both were quietly contemplating the night ahead. Joe stole a glance over at her; he had never seen her dressed the way she was now and he felt the hackles rise on the back of his neck as he knew that it was not for his benefit.

But Joe had to admit, his wife looked good. Her blonde hair was neatly set and framed a pretty, heart shaped face. Her makeup was perfect – attractive but also sluttish – and fitted the occasion perfectly. He knew the short black dress hid a half-cup pink lace bra, pink lace suspender belt and sheer pink stockings. All this had been ordered in advance.

As the slick black-top disappeared under the hood of the car, Joe’s mind wandered back to the previous day when Ray Blackstone broke the news to him.

“It’s only for one night Joe.” He had said, laughing. “I like a whore every now and then but I don’t like to pay for it when I’m already owed!”

Blackstone continued to regale Joe with details of Miranda’s recent losses at his downtown casino in a scornful and sneering voice. She owed a lot. Thousands, in fact, and Joe soon realised that there was no way that he and his wife would ever be able to repay the sum. It seemed the only solution was to accept Blackwell’s demands for Joe to surrender his sexy wife for the night.

The rain seemed to be getting worse now and Joe had to concentrate more on the road ahead of him and less on Miranda’s legs. The loud, neon signs advertising drug stores and all-night liquor gradually thinned out as they drove further uptown towards Blackwell’s luxury apartment and were replaced by more subtle advertising for high-class restaurants and antique stores. This was how the other half lived.

The engine of the old Ford spluttered and coughed as Joe slowed and drew up outside his destination. He peered up through the rain-streaked window at the towering column of apartments. He knew that Blackwell’s was at the very top – the penthouse – the bastard would never have settled for anything less.

“Well, this is it.” Joe said. He realised that neither he or Miranda had spoken for the last half hour. His croaked voice sounded hollow and empty to him – as if it belonged to someone else.

Miranda looked demurely down at her feet and remained silent. Joe followed her gaze and took in the high spiked heels that adorned her feet. The entire outfit had been paid for by Blackwell and was completely for his benefit.

“I’m so sorry!” Miranda gasped still looking at her feet. Joe realised that she was not able to look him in the eye. “I’ll never gamble again. I promise.”

Joe remained expressionless and continued to stare at his wife’s legs and feet. What could he say? What was there he could do? Miranda – his Miranda – was going to have sex with another man.

“Come on. Let’s just get this over with.”

The inside of Blackwell’s apartment was exactly as Joe had expected it to be. Expensive drapes hung over the window only partially concealing an amazing bird’s eye view of the city. The furnishings were tasteful and opulent. A gleaming chrome kitchen let off the lounge and, through a half open door, Joe could see a huge bed that dominated the centre of the master bedroom.

“You don’t look very nervous.” Blackwell smiled as he led Miranda and Joe through the door and into the bedroom. “In fact,” he looked over at Joe, “you look more tense than she does!”

“Let’s just get this over with, shall we?”

Joe realised that he had repeated almost the same phrase to Blackwell as he had to his wife a few minutes earlier. The problem was, he wasn’t sure that he really meant it. Blackwell had said that he looked tense. Well, he felt tense. But it wasn’t fear that was unnerving him; Joe could feel an inexplicable surge of excitement running through him.

Blackwell was still smiling as he indicated a chair that Joe should sit in. For him – Joe – this was to be merely a spectator event.

“This is how it’s going to work.” Blackwell started, clearly enjoying the power that his position afforded him. “Tonight, Miranda you will be my whore, my slut. You owe me a lot of money that I know you cannot repay so I am prepared to offer you a way out. For every instruction of mine that you obey I will place a certain amount of money on the table – just like a hooker! The money will represent a part of your debt so the more that you do for me the more of your debt will be cleared. Simple, isn’t it?””

Miranda stood in the centre of the room and nodded silently. It was clear that she understood exactly what was expected of her.

Blackwell turned to Joe again. “I’ll not hurt your wife in any way. I’m not into pain or bondage. I’m turned on by power. The power to have any woman I want and, if I desire, to have her husband watch while I take her!”

Joe also nodded his agreement and swallowed hard. His throat was dry. The adrenaline was coursing through his body.

“So,” Blackwell continued, “as your husband said, shall we get on with it, whore?”

Joe watched Miranda flinch when Blackwell referred to her in such derogatory terms, but she nodded her assent nonetheless.

Blackwell held out a roll of bank notes and smiled. “Take your dress off, whore.”

Joe was a little surprised. He had expected Miranda to try and delay the inevitable; to attempt to postpone what eventually they both knew had to happen. But Miranda’s fingers were already unzipping the black dress and, as both Joe and Blackwell looked on admiringly, she dropped the garment to the floor, stepped out of it and stood before them in just her skimpy underwear.

“I am pleased that you have worn the clothes I requested.” Blackwell exclaimed a little breathlessly. “You are a fine looking little whore. One of the best I have seen. And, without panties, that tight little cunt of yours looks absolutely wonderful!”

Joe stared at his wife with some amount of disbelief. He knew how she loved to wear sexy lingerie and he also knew that she had a little bit of an exhibitionist streak, but he had never known her to leave the house without her panties!

“Don’t you think she looks good, Joe?” Blackwell continued. “I love the way that half-cut bra pushes up her tits and exposes her nipples, don’t you?”

Joe looked. He could hardly take his eyes off Miranda. He was seeing her in a completely different light and could feel the surge of excitement transfer to his groin. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“Ha ha!” Blackwell cried as he saw Joe’s discomfort. “Yes, she’s giving me a bit of a hard-on as well!”

“I wore what you asked me to wear, Mr. Blackwell.” Miranda purred. “I hope you like it?”

“Worth ever cent!” Blackwell responded excitedly as he placed the wad of notes on the table as promised. “You’ll be pleased to know that’s a little of the debt settled! Now whore, turn around, let me see your ass.”

Again there was no hesitation on Miranda’s part. Spinning her lithe body around she planted her black spiked shoes a little apart on the thick carpet and bent at the waist. He hands went to the cheeks of her ass and spread them slowly allowing both men a perfect view of her velvet pussy lips and puckered anus.

Another, larger roll of bank notes was placed carefully on the table as Blackwell moved closer and began to inspect Miranda’s ass. Joe squirmed in his seat as he watched another man begin to fondle his wife’s buttocks. His fingers pried and probed and Joe could hear his wife’s breathing become more and more ragged. Suddenly she squealed. It was a joyful, lusty moan and was accompanied by a squishing sound as Joe realised that the casino owner had inserted two of his fingers deep into Miranda’s vagina.

“She likes the finger, doesn’t she?” Blackwell laughed as he pushed Miranda forward so that her hands balanced her against the bed. “Let’s see if I can make her moan like the whore she is!”

Joe was massaging the front of his pants as Blackwell began to finger-fuck Miranda more urgently. His erection was almost painful and, every time that Miranda cried out in excitement, it seemed to grow another notch.

Blackwell’s fingers penetrated deep and fast as he opened both of Miranda’s holes with his expert digits. Joe’s wife was groaning deeply and he could see her thrusting her hips back to meet the penetration. Her mouth hung open and her eyes closed in an expression of lust. Joe could see her whole body start to shake and as she let out a deep, guttural moan – very whore-like, he realised – he knew that she was cumming hard.

“Very good!” Blackwell exclaimed as he and Joe watched Miranda’s barely clad body convulse on the bed. “But there’s more to come I think. Would you like to lose some more of the debt, my little whore?”

Miranda breathed deeply and nodded. She swallowed hard as she watched Blackwell strip off his dark designer suit. Once the casino owner was down to his silk boxers, he stood by the side of the bed legs apart, hands on hips.

“Take it out, whore!” He demanded.

Miranda crawled over the black duvet to where Blackwell was standing. Her blonde hair was now a tangle of curls as she swept it back from her face and began to open the front of the man’s shorts. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached inside and touched the hot, swollen meat of his erection. Not huge, she thought to herself, but nicely proportioned.

Joe watched fascinated as his wife removed Blackwell’s inflamed cock and began to stroke up and down the length almost lovingly. He saw more money being placed on the table – more money than he had seen for a very long time – and wondered briefly how much was there. But his eyes were quickly drawn back to the bed and to what was happening there.

“Suck my cock, bitch!”

It was a needless demand. Miranda’s lips were already fast approaching Blackwell’s cock and Joe heard him groan deeply as the head disappeared into her mouth. Blackwell’s hands stroked all over her back, over her shoulders and up into her hair. Miranda gagged slightly as the cock was thrust into her mouth and her head pulled forward but she quickly managed to regain her composure.

“Mmmm. That’s better, whore. Don’t struggle. You don’t want me to add to your debt, do you?”

Miranda visibly relaxed and allowed more of Blackwell’s penis into her mouth.

“Now, just relax.” Blackwell continued, his voice low and soothing. “Open your mouth wider. That’s good. Now your throat….Mmmmm…. Very nice…. Wait… Wait – NOW!”

With one deep thrust. Blackwell rammed the entire length of his tool into Miranda’s throat. She gagged again but he was too turned on to be aware. His fingers entwined themselves in her blonde hair and held her head still while he face-fucked her.

Miranda coughed and spluttered when Blackwell eventually withdrew from her mouth. Joe noticed that he was still fiercely erect. Despite the obviously delectable sensations inside Miranda’s tight throat, the casino owner had managed to avoid shooting his cum.

“That was real nice, bitch.” Blackwell breathed as he sat back on the bed. “But I got more plans for you! I hope you didn’t think I was just going to let you suck me off. There’s more debt to be settled yet. And you do want to get rid of the debt, don’t you? Whore?”

Miranda was getting more used to being called a whore by now – actually, it gave her a little thrill. Yes, she did want to settle the debt and, yes, she knew there was more to come!

“I got a handful of money here that says your wife can ride my cock like a back-street hooker, Joe!” Blackwell laughed.

Joe was past caring now. He had seen his wife take another man’s cock into her mouth – her throat – what was so different about her pussy? He nodded meekly and watched more cash land on the table.

Blackwell lay back luxuriantly. His engorged cock stood up proud in front of him. Joe could see his wife’s saliva trickling down the outside of the shaft.

Again, Miranda instinctively knew what to do. Her legs parted as she mounted Blackwell and guided his stiff member deep into her pussy. Her spiked heels left small indentations in the duvet as she slowly lifted herself up and down but she didn’t care. She looked straight at Joe and smiled.

Joe could tell. There was no doubt that his wife was clearly enjoying herself. Blackwell’s stiff cock slammed up into her pussy over and over again. He could see the moisture that was oozing from her sex lips as she was ploughed but the sight only served to make his own cock harder. Up and down. Faster and faster. Miranda bounced and bucked as she was drilled. Joe smiled back and, easing down his zipper began to masturbate in front of his wife. He could see her full lips as she licked them sensuously. He wanted her. He wanted to be inside her but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Another man was enjoying her – using her as a whore – Joe would just have to rely on his hand.

“On your hands and knees, bitch!” Blackwell suddenly cried. “Your ass will cost me but it’ll be well worth it, I think!”

“Oh Mr. Blackwell! You want to put your cock in my ass?” Miranda turned her head and winked at her creditor. “Your right. It will cost you. All of the debt!”

“80%.” Blackwell countered. He was well used to negotiating.

“90%.” Miranda concluded. “You can cum between my tits for the last 10%. Deal?”

Blackwell considered for a moment and then smiled broadly. “Deal!” he replied.

Joe continued to masturbate as he watched his wife lower her head into a pillow and raise her pretty butt into the air. Blackwell kneeled behind her. His fingers and the head of his cock probed at the tiny puckered opening for a few moments, widening and lubricating Miranda with her own pussy juice.

And then, with a sudden deep lunge from Blackwell and a wail of surprise from Miranda, the man was inside her.

“Wow, what a tight fucking ass on this little bitch!” Blackwell exclaimed looking directly at Joe as he jerked off.

Joe smiled back excitedly and felt his cock contract in his hand. He watched as Blackwell slammed his tool into Miranda’s ass over and over again.

“I’m going to cum real soon now!” Blackwell continued. “Lovely idea of the slut’s to let me cum on her tits, they look very fuckable!”

Joe had to concur. Miranda’s breasts were always warm and accommodating and he had slid his own tool between them on many occasions. But now it was the turn of another man and Joe knew that he was going to love watching that!

Miranda’s back passage was wide and open as Blackwell withdrew his throbbing, twitching manhood. She could sense that he was nearly there. Could tell that her ordeal was nearly over. But as she lay on her back and pushed her breasts up together – the way that Joe had always enjoyed – she wondered exactly how much of an ordeal all this actually was. Did she hate it so much? No. Did it disgust her? Not really. Did it actually excite her? Definitely! And now she was about to see another man cum – cum on her tits – She smiled wickedly as she watched Blackwell and his tool quickly approach her.

“The money please?” Miranda laughed as she held the hot, throbbing mass of Blackwell’s penis against her soft breasts. “I think I’ve earned it, don’t you?”

Blackwell grinned. He would have given her anything at that moment so a few more hundreds didn’t seem to be a bad deal. He reached over to a drawer by the side of the bed and held a large wedge of notes above Miranda’s face. She reached out for them but Blackwell moved them just out of her reach.

“Cum first. Cash after!” He suggested.

Joe moved closer to the bed. He desperately wanted to see his wife’s grand finale. Her hands held her breasts high up on her chest. Blackwell sat astride her and with a deep thrust sent his throbbing weapon deep into the valley of her cleavage. Two, three, four hard strokes was all it took and with a low, growling moan, the casino owner’s penis erupted in a veritable fountain of sperm.

As he released his cum, so Blackwell also released the handful of money that he was holding above Miranda’s head. The notes fluttered like feathers in the wind as they descended in a pool of paper around the woman’s cum stained breasts and face. She deserved it, Blackwell thought. There had been many like her before – keen to settle their debts with wet cunts and tight asses – but few that were as good as Miranda Taylor. Blackwell knew that there was more cash currently sticking to the woman’s tits than was necessary to cover her losses. He’d let her keep the rest. He knew women like her. They always promised to stop gambling but never could. What money was left would give her a good stake next time. She might win a little but he knew she would eventually lose – they always did. He’d be seeing his Whore For a Night again soon. Of that he was very confident!

The End

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