Ascending Lauren Ch. 08

This narrative is part of a multi-part story that explores the sexual exploits of a Midwestern couple who wanted a change in locale, but are experiencing much, much more. Subject matter includes hotwife/cuckold topics. If you do not care for these types of tales, move on. You are your only enemy if you continue reading.

Those that do choose to continue, please know reading previous chapters will help you better understand the characters and their journey, but is not a requirement.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.

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Lauren Miller stared at the dark television screen, mentally projecting images of the prior evening into the fifty-five-inch reflection. She'd been this way since awakening a mere five hours after Hunter's birthday limousine had dropped her off.

Tiny dancer. A vision of the exotic entertainer brought a smile to the Iowan wife. Longing for a Midwestern fall, "Autumn" had certainly come in unexpected ways. The brief masturbation with friend and coworker Amy Rosinner aside, last night had been her first hands-on experience with another woman, albeit contrived and paid for. Those few minutes with the stripper made her realize there was something intoxicating about the softness of a woman's touch and the taste of another's lipstick. There was definitely more to sex than just intercourse.

House mom? Close to 50, Lauren's entire body ached from being tossed around like a rag doll by those frat boys. Not just the obvious areas either, but legs, arms and elbows. At the time it was pure pleasure, but today, a chiropractor's dream. Why did she do it? No real reason besides being drunk and horny. It would be easy to blame it on Corey's kink, take an "I did it for you" stance, but that would be nonsense. She went looking to get laid and laid she got. Pure and simple. It just happened to mirror a similar fantasy her husband had shared. Go figure. What about Tommy? Was she surprised he "kissed and tattled" to his fraternity brother? Not really. Did he brag? Was she as good as the younger coeds? Probably not.

Like a rag doll. Was the complete submission to Tony and friends really what turned her on now? Before Miami, Lauren was passive in bed, content to let Corey and the few boys before him take control. But none had been excessive and certainly not like last night. Sex with those college kids was the first time she'd actually felt used like a whore. And God help her, she loved it.

The proposition. She only had herself to blame for being mistaken for a prostitute. Look like a duck, get treated like a duck. The thing was, in Iowa she would have been mortified to be thought of that way. Now, it simply triggered a dark part of her that found sex-for-a-fee very erotic.

Corey. Why hadn't her husband called? They usually had a conversation every Saturday morning, but other than him acknowledging her text when she got home last night, there had been nothing. He clearly enjoyed what he saw, but had she somehow crossed the line, even for his demented mind? Unlikely, given the nature of his kink. That line was surely crossed weeks ago. Corey was hard to read nowadays, but Lauren chalked that up to the long-distance relationship. It had been nearly eight weeks since his last visit and she missed him a great deal. In fact, during recent weak moments, she had implored him to quit his job in Iowa, sell the house, and just move, damnit! But she knew that would not be good for his career. The damage to his reputation could be irreparable if he abandoned a major construction project in its final phase.

Life before Miami. What became of Lauren, the softball coach and dance mom? The girl who baked cookies for the church and volunteered for blood drives? The devoted Des Moines wife who swore an oath to a man who not only doted on her, but their daughters as well? Even though she married right out of college, she knew Corey was the man for her. The 11-year age difference was not an issue then, and outside the bedroom, not an issue now. They had a good partnership, evidenced by 28 years of marriage and two children - and still going strong.

What of the girlfriends she left behind? At first, they would talk every weekend, catching up on this and that. Then they began running out of things to say, being so far removed from each other's lives. Now they rarely talked.

Life in Miami. She'd only made one real friend. Amy was fun, considerate, and a good confidant. All other acquaintances were neighbors or random guys who hit on her. And yeah, a few lovers. But truly, life without Corey and the kids was mundane, given the number of hours she worked. In fact, without the occasional dalliance - something her deranged husband encouraged - life would be downright dull. In her mind, these assignations actually helped alleviate some of the depression she would otherwise feel sitting alone in her apartment. Despite the sexual adventures, she was literally counting the days until Corey and she could be together once again.

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Lauren went to bed early that evening. After a forgettable frozen dinner, it was nine-thirty and she simply wanted to end the day. Corey still had not called, nor had he answered the two text messages she'd sent. It wasn't that he was injured in a ditch somewhere in Iowa. One of their daughters, Caroline, had confirmed speaking to him earlier in the evening and all seemed fine. So, what then?

As the remote shut down the bedroom TV, the phone rang unexpectedly. Corey.

"Hey," she answered nonchalantly, trying not to reveal too much concern.

"Hey, yourself."

"Are you okay? You usually call me earlier."

"I figured you'd be wiped out from last night," Corey deadpanned.

"Are you mad at me?" Lauren asked, her voice showing some anxiety.

"No. I just needed time to think."

Oh boy, here it comes.

"I spent the whole day thinking about your little adventure. Not sure how I felt at first."

Lauren bit her lip apprehensively. She knew it; she'd gone too far. Time for damage control.

"Babe, I'm sorry. Weeks ago, I told you the switch had been turned on...you flipped it yourself...and we didn't know when, or if, it could ever be turned off. Maybe we should, you know, kill this "thing" before it kills us. Don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed our little adventure too. But maybe it's time to end it."

Corey sighed. Despite the miles between them, and oddly enough, the subject at hand, he could not help but soften. She was willing to go back to the way things were, even after tasting what things could be, should be. That spoke volumes.

"As I was saying, I wasn't exactly sure how I felt about three cocks unloading on my wife in the back of a limo."

"And?"

"Then I jerked off to the whole thing. Like, four or five times Lauren. Jesus, babe, that was hot as fuck. I can't believe you did that on your own."

A sense of relief washed over her. Thank God he isn't angry. Yet those boys taunted him last night. It should have been devastating to his ego. Did that mean his kink was growing and evolving in a niche direction? Sort of like her burgeoning delectation of submission?

"Actually it was four," Lauren corrected him sheepishly.

There was momentary silence on the other end.

"Four? When you hung up after...ah, Tony...I figured you'd go home. There were only three of them in the car."

"That's not really true."

More silence. She could almost hear the light bulb go on in her husband's head.

"Oh my God, Lauren, you didn't."

"I didn't have a choice."

"We always have choices."

Lauren cleared her throat. "When the driver dropped me off, he saw the...mess...on the velour seats and he was really pissed. I guess it fell on him to clean it up. Started yelling about extra charges and telling Hunter's parents. So, I...you know...smoothed it over."

A long, low moan came through the speaker.

Her eyes narrowed. "You're incorrigible. That gets you worked up, doesn't it, perv?"

"Mmm. Tell me how."

"Corey, it only lasted like five min..."

"Tell me!"

Jesus, he's warped. "So, the driver was ranting that puke was one thing, but this was something entirely different, how he didn't get paid to clean up bodily fluids, blah, blah. After letting him vent, I grabbed my clutch and told him I'd pay for any charges.

"He looked at me a little weird at first, then told me the card processor was in the front. When he slid behind the wheel to get it, I jumped in the front passenger seat next to him. After telling me there was a $200 cleaning charge, he asked me how I'd like to pay. You know what I told him, babe?"

"Debit?"

"You're funny," Lauren chuckled. "I didn't say anything. Just leaned over and unzipped his pants. You should have seen his face."

The rapid breathing from the speakerphone was clearly audible.

"Are you playing with yourself, Twisty? Are you twisting that dick hard?"

Corey didn't answer, he just moaned. "Did that turn you on?"

"Not exactly. He wasn't very good-looking, and I had just been, well...so, no. It was all very transactional. Once he nodded, I got on my knees, leaned over the center console, fished his penis out, and sucked it into my mouth."

Corey gasped through his euphoria. "No rubber?"

"I know, I know. Was fresh out. It's not like I carry a box around. I do hope none of the doormen from my building saw me bobbing up and down in this guy's lap in the driveway."

Lauren heard the sounds of her husband's hands tugging at his dick. Fap, fap, fap.

"You...you said five minutes. He didn't last long?"

"Hardly. He'd probably been listening to us. When he was ready, I clamped my lips down around the head and just let him blow."

"You've never let me come in your mouth," Corey half-whined.

His grousing didn't escape Lauren. Was he actually get off on me doing something special for another guy? Fucking weird.

"What could I do, Twisty? No way I was going to cause more of a mess, so I swallowed his whole load. It was such an odd feeling, having thick cum shoot down my throat, although it did taste better than I thought it would."

"Laurrrrennnn," Corey moaned as the orgasm caused his body to shudder. It was a small one, seeing as it wasn't exactly the first one of the day via his hand.

As his breathing slowed, he returned to the phone. "That was...that was really hot."

"Well, if you think that was hot," Lauren mused, thinking about her time with Autumn, "then you better get yourself another tissue."

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"Dad?"

"Amelia," Corey answered softly, picking up the phone from the nightstand. The dim blue numerals on the clock radio bore witness to his inability to fall asleep. Midnight now, the call with his wife had ended two hours earlier. "Always good to hear from you. Even in the middle of the night."

"What's going on with Mom?" his oldest daughter demanded, ignoring the sarcasm.

He was always happy to hear from his daughters. Caroline had called earlier, and they spoke amicably, but this conversation wasn't starting off very well. Amelia, unlike her sister, was the pragmatic one who had graduated college early and landed herself a leadership role in an IT startup. She was going to rule the world someday. This directness was typical of her style but in this case very dark and foreboding.

"Not sure what you mean."

"When's the last time you saw her?"

Corey thought for a moment. Let's see, that would have been last night, when she had cum from three boys dripping off her face. Probably not the best response.

"A couple months ago. You know that," he feigned obliviousness.

"Not in person, Dad. Like when she goes out with friends."

"I don't know. She texts me photos sometimes." It wasn't a lie. She would send random pics of her and Amy when they went drinking.

"But have you seen her social media posts?"

Although the 61-year-old was aware of various online sites, he didn't use them. Lauren dabbled, but did not think she was heavily into it.

"I don't have accounts set up, so no."

Amelia sighed. "Of course not. She posts some. Not every day. But enough that I've noticed changes in her appearance. Dad, she looks good. I mean really good. Hot even. Very fit. And the way she dresses, heavy makeup. Like she's trying to, I don't know...be noticed.

"Looking fit and sexy is a bad thing?"

"It is when she's my mother, and my father, her husband, is a thousand miles away. I know you guys have a good marriage and all, but the pics she posts, Dad, well...you should know many times there are guys in them. Nothing awful...mostly just sitting at a bar rail with her and her blonde friend or crammed into a booth with others. Here, I'll send you one. Point is, your wife's a bona fide hottie these days and there is no way she's not getting hit on."

Corey swallowed hard. "Look, I'm not sure what you are implying, but you shouldn't be talking that way about your mother. If you have a problem with the way she dresses I suggest you speak with her. I'm not there."

"Maybe you should be."

An awkward silence fell over the conversation.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I know you gotta do what you gotta do for your job. It's just that Miami is a fast city with fast people. Rich, sexy people. I'm not saying Mom would ever cheat, but it wouldn't be the first time a spouse got caught up in the trappings of a new exciting life in a busy shiny city."

"I understand, I get it. Duly noted, but don't worry, I'll be with her again in just a few months. Then we'll pick up where we left off."

"Yeah, okay, sure," the young girl replied dubiously. Corey could detect the heavy skepticism in her voice. "Well, goodnight, Daddy. Can't wait to see you over Thanksgiving."

"Me either. Goodnight, Princess. Call me anytime."

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Corey's head sank back into his pillow as he laid staring at the photo Amelia had just sent him. Sure enough, there was Lauren standing very close to some guy at a bar and grill, both smiling and raising their glasses in a toast. Of course, his daughter was spot on about Lauren's change in dress, makeup and mannerism. But how do you tell your child you support her mother's slutty ways and, in fact, encouraged any promiscuity as a result? Well, you don't, of course. What it did mean, however, was that those not-so-subtle changes were beginning to be noticed by others outside their little bubble. Had her friends in Iowa seen them? Have my friends seen them? Likely. Apparently, the images were pretty tame or Amelia would have surely said something. Even in this photo though, Lauren definitely looked younger, sexier, and happier.

Happier. That's what bugged Corey the most. What he feared the most. It wasn't like he didn't want her to be happy. On the contrary, a great deal of personal gratification came from knowing she was being sexually fulfilled again, an edge he had been losing for quite some time. He couldn't be angry about that. Hell, he had ignited the fuse. Nor would he begrudge her happiness in her new job. He'd always support her career moves.

But...was some of that happiness because he wasn't around? Lauren was obviously living a good life in Miami. Executive pay, luxury apartment, weekends at the pool, nights eating out, and from all indications, carousing. She had said it herself: most of her friends were fucking her. All without a graying and flabby husband around to mess up her newfound mojo.

Had things gone too far? She went from simple experimentation to a gangbang in a matter of months. Of course, they were both equally culpable; Corey the enabler and she the erotically enabled. He only hoped she wouldn't discover she didn't need him anymore. Kick him to the curb in favor of younger, more virile lovers. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. Not that he thought there was anything amorous about these flings. But Amelia had a good point, Lauren was a hottie and dressing the part. She and Amy did go out drinking a lot. Had she done things behind his back she'd simply not mentioned? Was she having an affair, or encounters that were purposefully being hidden from him? There was no reason to believe so. After all, if she's going to live stream fucking three guys in a limo, what motivation would there be to hide anything? Unless...unless there was a romantic undertow somewhere. His psyche could take his wife having sex with others - even embrace it, but not her falling in love. No, that would be a devastating consequence. The one he most feared.

Then there was the ominous feeling that his kink was devolving into something darker.

I'm one of the guys who's going to tap your wife tonight.

Old dude, you getting off seeing me face fuck your ol' lady?

Your lady's giving my boy the ride of his life. He's busting that up. She took my jizz on her face! Thanks for a great birthday, dude!

Although this was typical alpha-male behavior, those frat boys were definitely trying to assert dominance over the older man. And to his surprise, even Lauren had leaned in with her own dig.

You're right, baby. I do have my own friends down here now, and...most of them are fucking me.

That last barb carried a great deal of connotation, of course. He hoped she had just thrown it out there to pull his levers, but had it meant more? What disturbed Corey the most was that he found the emotions it evoked particularly enticing. Clearly, there was a lot to talk about. Not only to ensure their marriage was still on solid footing, but to define where they may be headed with this "special" relationship. He needed to reclaim her, let her know she was still his and that they were in it for the long haul. Thanksgiving was still weeks away and this couldn't wait. The two needed a heart-to-heart as soon as possible. The project manager browsed flights on his tablet for the next weekend. A three o'clock to Miami was available Friday afternoon. Halloween. Perfect. He could go directly after work to the airport, then surprise her at the apartment, flowers in hand.

After booking the ticket, Corey turned on his side as sleep drew a curtain over his eyes. The last bit of consciousness left one lone thought: she was going to be so surprised!

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An older model car with rusted wheel wells pulled up beside the hooker. "Are you working?" a gruff voice came from within.

Lauren strutted over to the passenger window and leaned down, giving the greasy fat man a look down her low-cut tank top and her braless itty-bitty titties beneath.

"Twenty-five for first base with a happy ending, home plate will cost ya a Benjamin," she purred.

The dumpy driver chomped hard on the cigar in his mouth. "Get in, I'm goin' yard."

Lauren opened the creaky front door and slid onto the rough and ripped vinyl seat. It smelled like onions.

The john gunned the car away from the curb and put his hand on her knee.

"I'm gonna fuck the teeth right outta your head."

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The Rekrap executive woke with a start from the recurring dream. She'd been having it since being propositioned a week ago. Sometimes there was two men in the car, but the result was always the same: being taken to a flop-house and manhandled. Each time she would wake in a soaking sweat, horny, which required calling in The Chairman, her ten-inch vibrator, to quell the rage between her legs.