Ascending Lauren Ch. 14

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.

Warning: subject matter includes hotwife/cuckold/group sex topics. This story is tagged as such, so 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.

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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December 17th. Ten weeks to go.

The bright yellow Kia Soul looked out of place in a neighborhood primarily comprised of pool halls and adult toy shops. It's driver, a young man barely into his 20s, swiveled his head to and fro as the import rolled through the dimly lit streets of Little Havana. The coordinates his friend Chloe had sent him were just ahead, but there wasn't a soul around, save for a homeless person here and there. With a bit of confusion, he slowed to a stop in front of an Asian grocery store, long closed for the evening. Only a few run-down tenements lined this stretch of the road, with a dark access alley off to one side.

The youngster was about to verify the location when he saw a woman stumble from the shadows, desperately tugging on a football jersey in a futile attempt to cover her nether regions. As the tattered apparition approached the car, the white of her thighs and the slit between them were plainly visible. Eyes wide, the youngster threw the compact into park and hurriedly grabbed a sleeping bag from the back seat.

"I'm Charlie. Are you Lauren?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He wrapped the warm material around the frail specter and helped her into the front seat.

She nodded and breathed a sigh of relief as the boy put the car into gear. "Thank you," she managed.

"Don't mention it. Chloe told me where to find you."

"You saved me from some real embarrassment. Don't worry, I don't live too far from here."

Charlie shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road. "I've been asked to take you to Sandy's."

"But I can't. I'm half naked."

The young man chuckled. "So are most of the women there." Then, seeing his ill-timed joke had fallen flat, added, "No worries, we'll go in the back door."

Lauren winced at the reference. Hers had just been take viciously and without lube, and right now it itched like hell.

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Few at Randy Sandy's gave notice to the young buck who had become somewhat of a mascot backstage as he helped the chick with the sleeping bag through the employee entrance. Navigating past a small kitchen, the pair ended up in a long and narrow dressing room with two or three half-clad showgirls.

"You can wait for Chloe here," Charlie motioned to a stool in front of a brightly lit vanity.

Lauren sat down obediently, loosening the thick cloth around her waist. Several dancers glanced briefly at the woman with the smeared makeup, sizing her up, but thought nothing of it as they made their way to the stage. They'd see lots of things at the strip club and little surprised them anymore.

Suddenly, the DJ's voice made a blustery announcement through the overmodulated PA.

"Allllllrightttttt, Sandies, let's give it up for our own Autumn Breeze! Nice work out there, Autumn! Next up for your Saturday night enjoyment, please welcome Cherry and Jade!"

A few minutes later, 20-year-old Chloe appeared in the dressing room, slightly out of breath, a glistening sheen of sweat covering her near naked body. Her splotchy red face turned to one of concern when she saw the disheveled brunette.

"Are you okay?" the dancer asked with a frown, handing Lauren a bottle of water. "What happened? It looks like you've been dragged through a ditch."

Lauren choked up as she told her about the Cubans, the emotions pouring out in one unabashed stream of consciousness.

"Wow," Chloe's eyebrows arched, "I gotta say, that was incredibly stupid."

"I know, I know. I wasn't thinking."

Chloe stood and tossed her a pair of sweatpants. "Listen, we need to have a talk. But I have to do one more set. Then we'll get you home."

With that, the sagacious entertainer turned to leave. Lauren grabbed her hand just before she disappeared from the dressing room.

"Chloe?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for helping me. Why did you have Charlie bring me here and not take me home?"

The dancer smiled kindly at rumpled creature.

"Maybe because I like you. Maybe because I wanted to personally make sure you were okay."

Above appreciative clapping from club patrons, the DJ once again began making his sensuous introductions.

"Or maybe I just wanted to see you again."

The women held an affable gaze until the music began its rhythmic thumping.

"Alright Sandies! Here she is, back on the main stage, let's welcome the draft that always warms our hearts, Miss...Autumn...Breeze!"

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Thirty minutes after Chloe's sizzling set, she and Charlie helped the older woman into her apartment. Soon, a freshly showered Lauren appeared in a fluffy white robe to a batch of smoothies the young man had whipped up with whatever he could find in the fridge. Settling on the couch in the small living area, they all sipped the cold concoctions in silence, smiling like a bunch of teenagers at the ice cream store.

Eventually, Chloe tapped Charlie's knee. There were some girl things she wanted to discuss, and it would be best if he wasn't around.

"It's been a long night, Chaz. I'm going to hang out for a while and then catch a taxi. Thanks for the solid, man."

Nodding somewhat reluctantly, the boy said his goodbyes and Lauren showed him to the door with a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I owe you one," she said sincerely, once more acknowledging his help.

After Charlie left, the office manager sat down next to the young dancer.

"He looks awfully young. What's his story?"

Chloe looked at the floor and smirked. "Well, let's see. He's a year older than me. We were both raised in the same orphanage, and we've hung out ever since. Charlie's been like a big brother to me, although there's always been something else bubbling beneath the surface. When I started working at Sandy's, he hung around, first as a customer, then offering to help here and there. Didn't take long to endear himself to the girls and staff. Now he's just part of the scenery, being a gopher and watching out for us."

"But you don't feel the same way?"

"Maybe," Chloe sighed. "Doubt we'll ever find out though. I friend-zoned him a long time ago. I think that ship has sailed."

"Ah, unrequited love."

"Not that simple. I do have feelings for him...and he'd be the perfect boyfriend...but that's exactly the reason I don't pursue it." She paused, trying to find the right words, "You see, I get paid to be objectified. Whether its stripping or escorting, it's a situation that most guys can't handle in a relationship. I mean, some might, but they're usually into that kind of thing to begin with."

Lauren coughed. Like my Corey .

"So why not let Charlie decide what he can and can't handle?"

"Someday, yeah, I might. Right now, I think he cringes enough watching me take my clothes off, much less knowing good and well what I do in the back room and on my side job. As a friend, he tolerates it. As something more? Not sure he has the temperament."

Lauren couldn't help but make the connection to her husband.

"Or maybe he could learn to enjoy it."

The dancer looked at the older woman curiously but let it go.

"Enough about me," Chloe wagged her finger. "You know you took a huge risk tonight. Forget about them maybe stiffing you, they could've left you for dead in that alley and you'd be known to Miami-Dade County as just another a cold case."

Lauren shook her head, eyes watering. "I know, I know."

"Tell me something. I really want to understand. Your husband's out of town, and you have a lot of itches to scratch. I get that. Not much different from the cast of thousands that come into Sandy's. Or you know, hire someone for sex without strings. But most of them aren't selling themselves to get what they need. What on earth possessed you to go down an alley with strangers as a wannabe?"

Dabbing her eyes, the Iowan wife contemplated the word "possessed". That's what it felt like sometimes. Kumiho?

"I-I-I...it's, uh, you know, something that keeps me up at night."

Chloe stroked Lauren's hair, trying to ease her mind. "Now we're getting somewhere. A fantasy? About selling yourself?"

"Hmm," the brunette breathed slowly, her eyes rolling back as the girl's fingers caressed her locks. "But not just that."

"Tell me."

"I really can't."

"Yes, you can."

Lauren exhaled. "My dreams. I get picked up by a pig of a man and we do it in the filthiest of places. He slaps me, roughs me up. And God help me, I love it."

"So, tonight must have really hit the mark?"

"Yeah, it...it did."

The girls took a drink of their smoothies.

"You like it rough, huh?" Chloe smiled, openly tonguing the straw her mouth. "A little submissive, are we?"

Lauren shrugged. "I never thought about it. I mean, not until that night with Corey's friend."

"What? You fucked his friend? A little close to home, isn't it?"

Shit. I just don't know when to keep my mouth shut. Could this night get any weirder? Reluctantly, but almost with a sense of cleansing, she proceeded to tell the stripper everything about the past six months. The initial flirting, how phone sex led to the threesome with Max Bemer. All the other trysts. Everything.

The more details Lauren provided, the hotter the young girl got. Part of being a sex worker was acting as a surrogate therapist to clients. Good ones did more than just spread their legs, they built rapport. But she was still a slut at heart, and hearing about the hot interludes aroused her to no end.

"Wait, you did Max Bemer? Club X Bemer? I'm jealous, he's hot. That's quite the resume for someone who's been a devoted wife for three decades."

Lauren looked into the redhead's eyes. "Are you psychoanalyzing me right now?"

Chloe brushed away the older woman's bangs. "That's half my job. The other half I think you've already seen."

"Have I? Have I really?"

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, the mutual attraction indisputable. Each was desperately trying to keep their libidos in check.

"Sooooo," Lauren finally spoke, pulling away slightly from the dangerously attractive stripper. "What about you? Isn't being an escort just as dangerous?"

"Not the kind of danger you were in. Sure, there's always risk, but with my arrangement, clients must go through a screening process before I ever meet them. Yeah, a few idiots slip through now and again. They want more than what the talent signed up for and get pissed when they don't get it. But most know that Prurient Stables will come down on them hard in a very painful way if they ever get out of line. That's usually deterrent enough. But you, you had no threat of retribution, no safety net. Not smart."

"What do you mean, what the talent signed up for?"

"Well, it's a business. We tell the service what we're willing to do beyond the vanilla. S&M, bi, water sports, the list is endless. This goes in our profile, so when clients ask for a particular style, the service can match us up."

"Like a skills section for a headhunter!"

"More or less."

Lauren's mouth watered, a twinkle in her eye. "And what's in your profile?"

Chloe bit her lip. It took everything to keep her from jumping the brunette's bones right then and there. She liked sex. Gender didn't matter. And not just because it was in her job description. She simply liked to fuck. Period. But unlike the amateur sitting next to her, the full-time dancer and part-time escort had long ago learned to exercise at least some control. It's what kept her alive. But it would be contemptible to hit on this woman right now. Tonight, she needed a friend, not a lover.

Sitting up straight, fluffing her hair, the redhead gently dropped Lauren's hand and took a drink. The chilled beverage helped cool her down.

"So, hubby knows of your misadventures, huh?"

Lauren shifted on the couch, a bit disappointed that the girl had backed off.

"He does," she sighed. "Well, except for tonight. No way."

"You're not going to tell him?"

"How can I? It was too...too raw."

"Okay, I may only be twenty," Chloe offered, "but I've roleplayed more than one hotwife fantasy. Isn't that just the kind of thing he would enjoying hearing about?"

Lauren shrugged. "I don't think even Corey knows what he wants."

She went on to explain that initially it was enough for her to dress provocatively, to get men to gawk. Then he wanted to share. Compersion, he said. It was all about her pleasure. No nursing "angst" or whatever the internet called it. He was just happy that she was happy. Then it turned darker, with questions like "how did he feel in you?", "did you really cum?", and the classic "was he a better lover?" All hallmarks of a man craving to feel...inferior.

Chloe nodded. "Humiliation. It's very common. But there are varying degrees. Stags, cuckolds, whatever the labels. Only classic cuckolds are said to enjoy the feeling, but I call bullshit. Seriously, can a guy watch his girl get pounded into next week by a better lover and not feel a touch of humiliation? Really? And if they didn't enjoy it, even just a little, why the hell are they allowing it in the first place?"

"Wow, I must say, that's pretty profound," Lauren agreed. She'd never thought of it that way. "My Corey's only recently started exhibiting that tendency though. Maybe its just part of the journey the forums speak of, but I think it has a lot to do with him not being here for me. In some perverse way, he likes it that way. The less control he has over the situation, the more pleasure it triggers. I could sleep with the entire 7th fleet on shore leave and he couldn't stop it. I think that gets him off."

"The 7th fleet, huh?" Chloe's eyes lit up. "I need to know when that ship comes in."

The girls shared a giggle. Lauren went on to confide the overwhelming sympathy she felt for her beleaguered husband. Even though they had agreed to the arrangement...and her hall pass...there was a certain amount of guilt associated with partying in America's playground when the poor guy had nothing to look forward to but work and cold weather. She confessed to the video he secretly filmed of her in the neighbor's apartment and pointed to it as just another pathetic example of just how much he was jonesing without her.

Chloe leaned back into the couch, both hands on her drink. Anything to help remove the temptation to reach out.

"So, let me get this straight. He likes to watch you have sex, that much is a given. He may have morphed any jealousy he experiences at the thought of you doing things behind his back into something that gratifies him. And he digs a bit of humiliation? Is that right."

Lauren pursed her lips. She was amazed. How could such a young girl could describe these things so succinctly? "That about sums up my Corey. But honestly, I think the humiliation is really just a way of punishing himself for not being here."

Nodding slowly, Chloe gazed out the window of the 23rd floor apartment and down onto the lights of the city. The two sat in silence while she was lost in thought. Finally, with a long draw on the smoothie's straw, the 20-year-old turned back to her friend.

"You know, when you like to fuck, I mean really, really like to fuck, it's easy to go down a rabbit hole. Now, I've only been in the industry a couple years, but I've seen chicks who fucked themselves into sex rehab, or worse, drug addiction. Their lust destroyed them. And it's easier for us girls to find a fix cuz we can pretty much walk into any bar and find someone to feed the addiction."

"Being one of those girls who likes to have my feet in the air, I have to be really careful. Not that I don't let myself get crazy sometimes, but I've learned to channel it."

Lauren nodded. "Into being a stripper and escort."

"Well, sort of. Make no mistake, I'm a sex worker because of the money. But I was a huge slut before that. Just ask the varsity team my senior year. Now I get paid and I don't have to go into an alley to get my fix. Two birds with one stone. And from what I've heard, you could use the same kind of focus."

That caused the office executive to belly laugh. "We'll, I'm too old to be competing with the likes of you on a stage."

Chloe chuckled. "Don't knock it. MILFs rake it in."

"But sometimes I wonder if I'm broken now," Lauren sighed. "For nearly thirty years I was content to sleep with one man. A wonderful man, who was a great lover. Since he opened the door, I seem to be insatiable. Like the kid whose parents never let them do anything in high school, then goes off the deep end in college."

"Nonsense. You've rediscovered the joys of sex. Maybe the long suppressed slut in you is finally getting a chance to fuck. My only advice would be to channel it into something that helps you from chasing that rabbit."

"If Corey was here, that would help."

"But he's not, right? So, you have to have the discipline yourself or you're going to wind up dead in an alley. As for Corey, why not really push his buttons? Feed his Frankenstein. If he can't bring his angst to you, you bring it to him."

"And just how do you suggest I do that? I mean, I've live streamed, let him watch, told him the details later. All of that."

Chloe's eyes closed. Then she grinned.

"Why not make your own sex tape?"

Lauren's mouth fell open. "Jesus, you mean like a porno?"

"Not just any porno. One customized to ring his bell."

The older woman fidgeted uncomfortably.

"You're joking."

"Why not?" Chloe asked. She looked dead serious.

"And how is that any different than live streaming?"

"Well one, like I said, it's customized. The theme is tailored to a targeted audience. Second, the production values are better. And third, he can watch it over and over."

Great. Maybe Amelia can find that one. "I don't know if that's a good idea. Besides, I have no idea how to make a porno."

"That's okay," Chloe chortled. "I know a guy."

"What?"

Chloe yawned. Six hours at the club, two of them in the back rooms with customers, had done her in.

"A film maker. Well, an amateur film maker. He provides tech setup to camgirls and does low budget vids for them to sell to their fans."

Lauren cocked her eyebrows. "I couldn't do that. I'm an executive at a large company. That gets out, I'm through."

"It doesn't have to. This is commissioned work. You know, like artwork, when you commission a sculptor to create a statue. Same thing. You both sign an NDA and only the client gets a copy."

"I don't think there's much to work with here," Lauren looked down.

"Cut the crap. You're sexier than many women half your age. Most fifty-year-olds I see have long let themselves go. You're firm, tight. And hot. Really fucking hot. Plus, he does all sorts of themes. Gay, lesbian, trans. Even some scat and fake snuff stuff."

"Snuff?"

"If you don't know what that is, you probably don't want to. Suffice it to say there isn't much this guy hasn't filmed. A hotwife bent won't phase him one bit."

"I don't know."

The redhead yawned again and laid her head on Lauren's shoulder. "Think about it. For now, let's just get some rest."