Ascending Lauren Ch. 16

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.

Primer: As with many relationships that enter such a lifestyle, Corey and Lauren are embarking into a time that many would find dark and disturbing. Such is the reality when playing with sex and emotions. This chapter, like the others, will surely please some while enraging others who don't have the sense to know this is primarily a fictional account for entertainment purposes. Not that it matters. Tonight, me and the real life Lauren are seeing the couple whose daughter forms the basis for Caroline's character. She at one time helped her mom cuck my buddy.

We expect to have fun.

December 24th. Nine weeks to go.

Corey Miller woke to the smell of hair spray and perfume. Opening his eyes, he found his wife's face nestled against his spongy neck and her soft jet-black locks tickling his flaring nostrils. Gently easing out from underneath, he slowly peeled back the sheets and sat up, admiring her nakedness. At 48, she looked 35, with a gym chiseled body that women of any age would envy. Indeed, she and their daughters had often been mistaken for sisters, a fact Lauren never failed to remind him of.

He yawned and scratched his aging balls, raising an eyebrow when his hand encountered some rather crusty pubic hair. Looking down, he noted it closely matched the dried sheen that encased Lauren's trim waist. A look of distain crossed Corey's face. Not all that of that crunchy jizz is yours, chief.

Indeed, for the first time in their 28-year marriage, his wife had brought him sloppy seconds, methodically extracted from a client in exchange for the promise of a contract renewal. While sloshing around in another man's cum was kind of hot at the time, the residual detritus was now just...gross.

"You okay," she murmured, still half asleep.

"Yeah. You?"

"Mm-hmm."

"You passed out pretty quickly. I figured all that coke would've kept you up."

Lauren stretched and twisted. "Ah, so you were paying attention. I thought you might be around peeking."

"You need to be careful, babe," Corey cautioned her.

She fluffed a pillow and stuffed it behind her. "I know, but he's a client. I doubt he'd give me anything dangerous. Too traceable."

Corey shook his head. "That's not what I was referring to."

It took a second for the cobwebs to clear.

"Oh...ohhh," Lauren replied. "You're right. Absolutely. I'm sorry. That was disrespectful to you. It was off before I could react. But that's no excuse, I should have been more in control."

Corey leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "It's okay. You seem to like it bareback."

Lauren bit her lip. "I do, yeah. Is that bad?"

"Could be, but I trust your judgement."

She smirked. Her judgement. That's a hoot.

His shriveled cock was bobbed slightly, trying to get some attention. It was still covered with the flaky opaque film from last night's sex.

"Someone's excited. Exactly how much did you hear?"

"Enough to know that I can't fuck you as well as other men and I couldn't make a nun cum if I tried."

Lauren scooted across the mattress and slid behind him. Her naked breasts pushed against his spine as she laid her chin on his shoulder and began massaging chest. The 61-year-old's skin had become soft and pliable, much different than the hard bodies that surrounded her these days. She knew he'd been going to the gym, and it was slowly working, but there was still a long way to go. Reaching around his flabby waist, his cock landed in her hand.

"I'm sorry, did I say anything to hurt your feelings?" she purred in his ear. "Like, you know, that this little antique can't get me off anymore?"

Corey moaned under her touch. "I like it," he whispered, barely intelligible.

"So, you like hearing about how much better other men are? How their cocks get me off when I can barely feel yours?"

The troubled husband turned his head sideways and pressed a cheek against hers. "God help me, yessss." His voice faded into almost a sob. "I'm so sorry."

"What's wrong, baby?" Lauren asked, her hand closing around his skinny penis.

"Am I sick?"

"Sick?"

"To enjoy...this. I just spent the better part of a night kneeling jerking off in front of a door...a door Lauren, listening to my wife having sex." Who the fuck does that?"

"Hush. It's not a sickness. Let's put this into perspective. It's a fetish, nothing more, nothing less. Isn't that what you've been preaching to me? At least you haven't asked to pee on me yet."

His back lurched into her chest, his weak pecs jiggling. Corey pictured her laying in a bathtub as golden streams poured over her.

Lauren laughed knowing what he was thinking. "Oh boy, sorry I mentioned it."

She continued jerking him off one hand from behind while the other played with his man-boobs.

"So, you want me to date again. Like I've never been married?"

Another whimper. Using her thumb, she flicked one nipple repeatedly.

"A real date right? Where I get flowers and dinner and dancing? How exciting."

More groans.

"I'd get all dolled up...just for them, you know. Clothes you'll never see me in, but they'll sure enjoy slowly removing so I can become their plaything."

The wrinkled cock was rock hard now as Lauren fisted it.

"I don't think I'll have a problem pulling a date, do you?"

"Oh, god. N-n-no."

"LOTS of virile men down here. Powerful, good-looking men. You know how they look at me. Naughty boys, always undressing me with their eyes. I'm sure they'd love to give me a proper seeing to. Is that what you want? For me to date them all?"

A low guttural groan escaped Corey's throat.

"Uh huh, that's what I thought. It's either that or go back home. Seems to me your best friend gave me the fucking of my life last time I was there. Maybe I should see if any of your other friends want to taste your wife?"

That hit a nerve. Precum began pouring out of his underutilized glans. "OH SHIT, LAUREN!" Corey's hips bucked on the mattress. "Please, no."

"Why not, Twisty? I've noticed how Toby and Sean look at me when Judy and Shelly aren't around. Just like Zane. Damn, did that man fuck me!"

Grimacing under the immense pressure forming in his balls, Corey tried to keep it under control. "But they wouldn't."

"Wouldn't they?" the dark-haired vixen pulled his ear near so she could whisper in it. "What makes you think they already haven't?"

"Jesus, help me."

And with that, Corey came. And came hard.

+++++

While his frail penis pumped cum over Lauren's hand, something made her pause and look deeply in his eyes. For the first time, she saw it. She really saw it. In that singular, omnipresent moment, Lauren Miller simply understood what made her incipient husband tick. Everything was there, swirling around; it just had to be dissected. The cocktail of conflicted emotions that created a pleasure that most men could not understand, but an indulged few craved. The kindling that fueled a combustible stew of feelings which inexplicitly turned jealousy and humiliation into exquisite ecstasy. A short-circuiting of her husband's brain and those like him that seemed to be the ignition point for all sorts of gratification. This in turn resulted in explosive orgasms serving not only as conventional releases but a purging, as if the body was trying rid itself of the shame and stigma associated with the kink. Ask him to explain it and he'd be at a loss for words. And always will be.

Lauren let Corey tremble in her arms as the last few spurts of translucent semen pumped through his shaft and onto the hotel carpet below. For him, it marked a return to normalcy, where his mind was clear and void of all venereal thoughts. Until the pressure began to build again.

"Wait," the project manager grabbed her hand as she began to roll off the bed. "I have to know. Was it Sean? Toby?"

Lauren laughed and pulled away. "You're way too easy."

Choking back relieved laughter, Corey managed a feeble grin. "I could say the same about you."

Giggling, Lauren flipped him the bird and went to the bathroom. "C'mon. It's Christmas Eve! Let's shower and get out of here. We need to get to the grocery store before they close. You'll just love what I'm cooking up."

To that, the senior Iowan had no doubt.

+++++

Although it began rather unconventionally, the rest of Christmas Eve proved one of the most ordinary days Corey and Lauren Miller had spent together in a long time. Between a lazy day poolside, a bite to eat at the deli across the street, and a satisfying afternoon nap, it could not have been more vanilla. And that could not have made them happier.

Late in the evening, while Corey worked on a resignation letter, Lauren ran to the market and pharmacy, The couple had every intention on staying in, grilling some salmon, and chilling with a movie. This proved to be a wise choice, seeing both were asleep on the couch way before the final credits rolled.

+++++

Christmas Day.

Corey stood on the balcony of the 23rd floor apartment and surveyed Miami's beautiful downtown district, marveling at the 65-degree weather. With Des Moines barely getting into the 20s, he dreaded returning to that frigid weather the next day. Lauren cheerly joined him with a cup of coffee in each hand, and they basked in the morning sun.

During a long video conference with their daughters, Caroline expressed excitement at visiting her mom later that week, and Amelia apologized for not being able to join them due to a massive system conversion at her company. Lauren assured the older sibling that Florida had plenty of lobster and sunshine. After hanging up, the couple exchanged gifts. Corey loved his new camcorder but had to say his favorite present was a special edition Cyclones jersey, updated with new team colors. Lauren received nice things too, including some traditional silver and gold jewelry, perfect for the office. Jokingly, she feigned hoping for another anklet, which got a chuckle. He did apologize for not having more gifts for her, citing the long distance and work. To make it right, he scribbled an I.O.U. she could cash in later for pretty much anything. All in all, it was a good morning.

Eventually, they made their way to the local mission and spent a few hours prepping and serving food to the city's less fortunate. Corey helped roast chicken in the kitchen, while Lauren took her place in the production line, handing out dinners. It was something they'd done as a family for decades and promised to keep the tradition going. Two hours in, Corey stuck his head through the kitchen door to gauge the line and happened to see Lauren chatting with two roughneck Latino guys. All three seemed to know one another, although the men didn't at all seem to be the type of people she'd be friends with. It wasn't until one of them referred to her as "Iowa" that he knew for certain they weren't strangers. Oddly, there was some uneasiness about her as she talked quietly, even casting furtive glances back towards the kitchen to see if anyone was watching. There was.

+++++

"Please, guys, go way. I'm working."

"This your daytime job, puta?" Juan sneered. "When you're not sucking dick?"

Hector laughed like a hyena.

Lauren's stomach knotted. "Seriously, leave me alone."

The men noticed her eyes shifting towards the kitchen.

"What's wrong, senora? That absent husband of yours back there? Perhaps we should go wish him a happy holiday."

Her eyes widened. "No, please."

One of the other volunteers stepped in Juan's way as he tried to go behind the counter. A burly veteran with a long beard, he looked like he could wrest a tire from a gorilla.

"Everyone okay here?"

Juan held up his hands and smiled. "No trouble here, acere." He turned to Lauren. "You want to holla again, pretty girl, you come find us."

Grabbing a couple apples, the Cubans sauntered out of the mission and disappeared, leaving Lauren's hand shaking.

+++++

"Friends of yours?" Corey asked later that evening as he began packing his bags for the morning flight.

"Who's that?" Lauren responded while folding clothes fresh from the dryer. She'd all but forgotten about the Latinos.

"Those boys...from the mission. You all seemed to know each other."

Her brow furrowed, remembering the encounter. "N-n-no," she stuttered, "not really."

"Ah-k. I mean, one of him called you Iowa, so I just thought...oh hey, have you seen my deodorant?"

"I-i-t's under the sink." Lauren's voice was cracking. Doing things with Corey's knowledge was one thing, but cheating was something entirely different. It'd been a mistake not to tell him about turning back-alley tricks with those guys, and the whole of it had weighed heavily on her. She just couldn't do it anymore.

Walking to where her husband was rummaging through toiletry drawers, she leaned against the counter and folded her arms. Corey was startled to see such a dead serious expression on her face.

"What?"

"We need to talk."

+++++

"Jesus Christ, babe," Corey barked, his blood pressure through the roof. "That was incredibly stupid."

"I know, I know. Look, I was drunk. You weren't here..."

He slammed a shoe into the suitcase. "Goddamnit, Lauren, you could have been killed!"

There was little she could say. Everyone was right. There was no defense, it was just a bonehead move.

Corey was pacing now. "Why? You could walk into any bar in this city and..."

"Please calm down. I...I...I guess you have your thing and I have mine."

He stopped and stared at her.

"Selling yourself? I thought that was just a fantasy."

Lauren tilted her head in bewilderment. Of all people...

"Hello? Yours used to be just a fantasy too."

An awkward silence fell over the room. Corey paused. She's not wrong.

Zipping the suitcase shut, he walked over to the closet. Eyes scanned her wardrobe until they landed on a pretty floral spaghetti-strap sundress.

"Here," he tossed it to her, "put this on."

"Why?"

"We're going out."

"But it's Christmas night. Nothing's open."

"We'll take our chances."

+++++

The black SUV ride-share pulled up in front of the 24-hour laundromat.

"You sure you want this address, mac?" the ride-share driver asked a bit suspiciously, mentally noting neither of the fares had brough laundry with them.

Corey hesitated. During Lauren's hooker revelation, he had tried to mentally piece together the approximately location of the infamous alley. But Little Havana was a big place.

"My mistake, can you just drive around a bit?"

The driver turned around and look over the very cracker couple in the backseat. "Gas ain't cheap these days, pal, and I've got other customers waiting. How about you tell me what you're looking for."

"Is there any place hangout around here?"

Lauren looked at her husband curiously but didn't say anything.

"Only a couple places tonight. One's a tavern, and I guaran-fucking-tee you don't want to go there. There's a reason they put in a cop substation across the street. Other joint is a pool hall."

"Billiards it is."

Lauren raised an eyebrow. "Pool? C'mon, let's just go home."

Corey put a finger to his lips and remained stoic. There was something worrisome about his demeaner.

+++++

As the SUV's taillights disappeared around the corner, the couple stood on the sidewalk gazing up at a blinking marquee advertising "Balls of Fun Here". There was hardly a soul on the street, and they felt very, very alone. The only sensible option was to step inside.

With a deep breath, Corey pushed open the doors and stepped through the entrance. Lauren followed, her dress billowing in the warm draft. The hall was small and had just six rather basic tables with ratty purple cloth. The place was empty except for a rather unfriendly-looking Latino blocking another door at the far end the room.

"Can I help you with something?" he of them asked gruffly, clearly annoyed that they were even there.

"Need a table."

"None available," the hairy ogre said flatly.

Corey nodded, noting the non-existent crowd. "I can see that. Sorry, our mistake." He didn't see who he was looking for anyway. Grabbing his wife's hand, he guided them back towards the front.

"Well, well, well."

Lauren squeezed her eyes shut. She knew that voice anywhere.

"Is that you, Iowa?"

Glaring at her husband sideways, she dropped her shoulders in resignation and slowly turned to look see Juan standing in the doorway.

"Hey."

"Good to see you again," the Cuban smiled, moving closer. Another man followed him into the room. "This is Mendo, and you've already met Tajo. Merry Christmas!"

Lauren was silently fuming. "What the fuck are you up to?" she hissed at Corey from the corner of her mouth.

"Just wanted to meet your friends and see what you've been up to while I've been away," he whispered back, grinning. "I deserve that much, don't I?"

The project manager walked slowly to the big Cuban, hands up so the room could see them. He was acutely aware a gun or two may have been trained on him.

"Are you Juan?"

"I am," the Latino answered without hesitation. "And you are?"

"My husband," Lauren blurted out. "And apparently not a very bright one. Please don't hurt him."

Learning this, Juan squared himself to the older man. He'd faced a jealous husband a time or two and knew the situation could go south quickly. Mendo realized this too and placed a hand inside his vest.

"Have you come to do me harm?"

"Did you fuck my wife?" Corey asked matter-of-factly.

Every bit of oxygen was sucked from the room.

Looking at the brunette, Juan weighed his options. He could lie, but seeing as the jinetera had already come clean, that wouldn't help matters. It would simply defer a confrontation to another time. A time when he wouldn't necessarily see it coming. No, it was better to face this now, whatever the outcome.

"Yeah, I was with her. Best pussy I've had in a long time. Only cost me a buck fifty." The words were meant to be inflammatory; if the yanqui was going to get froggy, he'd surely jump then.

When the old man didn't, he added for good measure, "And I took her asshole cherry too."

Corey clenched his jaw but remained under control. He was aware of only the three men, but there could be more. Mendo appeared to still be fingering a firearm. The room was very, very tense. The ball was in Corey's court.

"Care for another go?"

Lauren felt faint, Juan began laughing, and Mendo looked nervous.

"Listen, it's simple. My wife's a prostitute, a whore. But you already know that. I figured with you and your buddies here all alone on Christmas, you might need a little cheer. You get to nut, she gets off, and I make a few bucks to put in the next kettle I see. Whatta say? Five Benjies for the lot of you?"

Lauren's mouth fell open. Her heart raced as the men began to surround her, touching her long black hair.

"Is this true, puta?" Juan asked, tracing a finger along her bare shoulders. "You need more Cuban in your diet?"