Klassy Lady

I checked. It opened, and there was the stair. I closed it and turned back to the bedroom.

R. J. hadn't closed me in yet, and he addressed us both: "Okay, folks. You seem like real nice people, and I'd hate for you to leave here with regrets. This is where I kick the tires hard. If either of you is having second thoughts, speak now or forever hold your peace."

"I want this," Chloe said.

I nodded. "Do it."

R. J. closed the mirror. He spoke to me through it while he undressed. "I'll only say this once. If you watch this weekend, no matter what you see, do not try to interfere. This mirror will be locked. If you break it, I will hurt you. Chloe will be one of my girls, not your wife. If anything happens, someone hurts her, that's my concern, not yours. In fact, anything you see that you ain't ready for, man, there won't be a thing you can do about it. If you try, you'll be sorry--or worse. Understand?"

"Yes."

R. J. stood totally naked, now, before the mirror. He really was muscular and cut. And, I guess I should add, he was generously--but realistically--endowed.

Chloe had taken a seat on the edge of the bed. R. J. went to her. She hadn't taken off her high heels yet, so he knelt down and did that for her.

"Will you kiss?" he said.

"Um," her voice was quiet and nervous. "Y-yes."

"Reason I'm asking, that's one of the few things you can say no to in my house. I just need to know. Lotta guys come in, they want a girl who kisses. But I understand how personal that is. You sure you wanna do it?"

Chloe nodded, more confidently. "Yes."

R. J. smiled. "Good. I were a trick, I don't think I could stand not kissing you. Come here."

He gathered her up on his lap. She clung to him like a baby animal. I'd never seen her skin so white as it looked against his dark body. He brushed her light brown bangs off her forehead, and kissed her there, just above one brow. It was like he broke a spell. Her nervous tension bled away, and she became exquisitely soft and pliable in his arms. Their mouths melted deeply together. When they parted, Chloe's bangs were slightly damp, her forehead dewy with the first sweat of sex.

They moved on to "oral"--though it turned out to be much, much more than that. R. J. lay back. Chloe took his cock and worshipped it with her lips and tongue. She wasn't shy about spitting on her hands for lubrication, and she used her palms and fingers on it, too. She let her bangs sweep over it, and rubbed it with her cheek. She "Eskimo kissed" it with her nose. She even fluttered her eyelashes over it in a flurry of butterfly kisses. All the while, she took turns trying to deep throat the black cock, which she never quite managed to do.

I'd imagine R. J. is pretty jaded, but his eyes were popping at the care Chloe was lavishing on him. So were mine.

"That's good, honey," he told her. "Now go lower. You know where."

Yes, she tongued his asshole.

He glanced in my direction, no doubt wondering what must be going through my head. Nothing was going through my head. Any thought would have been too much of a distraction. Everything that mattered was happening out there, before my eyes.

Two chimes rang softly.

"How about that!" R. J. sat up. "A customer."

"Do you need to go attend to that?" Chloe asked.

"No, no. Jana knows to handle it. Let's move along, shall we? Lay back, honey."

Chloe did. She carefully placed her feet a little ways apart, with her knees bent.

R. J. looked down at her. "You sweet thing! I bet you feel like you just spread your legs a mile wide, doncha?"

She looked at herself. "Oh, I'm sorry." She started to open her legs wider.

R. J. grabbed her by the calves and pried her legs into almost a full splits. "See how that feels? Now that is open. That's inviting. This is how you need to be for tricks. Understand?" He put her feet back where they'd been. "Now let's see you try it."

For a second, she just lay there, looking up at him. Then, she grabbed one ankle, and bent it back behind her head. Then she took the other, and crossed it over the first. She was a Viennese oyster, as open and inviting as could be. It was impossible not to stare at her pussy, so swollen, so wet, so ready to be taken.

R. J. rubbed his face, which showed a tension of conflicting emotions. Finally, he said, "Very pretty." Absently, he traced one finger up and down the cleft of her exposed pussy. "But that's not what I told you to do, is it? No--don't move. That's as good a place to start as any. But next time, you do what I tell you, missy." He started to lean in, to position himself for penetration. "On the pill?"

"Cervical cap." Chloe's voice was thick with lust.

"Just so long as it's something." He pressed the tip of his cock between her open outer labia. "Here we go."

"Oh!" Chloe arched her back so suddenly and hard that I worried she might dislocate her legs.

Clear across the room, with the mirror between us, I could hear the squelch of her first contraction. R. J. had to fight her pussy's slurping suction on his out-stroke. He sank in all the way again. His hips thudded on hers.

Chloe moaned.

"God damn!" he shouted, and I knew she was gushing.

Sometimes, during orgasm, she releases a mind-boggling amount of fluid. It's hot and thick and sticky. When she's on top, it feels like someone is pouring a gallon of warmed-up maple syrup down my cock, over my balls. Her contractions feel like a soft, strong hand clenching and unclenching. Her whole body trembles, and her moans are so beautiful they make my heart ache.

R. J. did some moaning, himself, as he rode out her storm. I couldn't blame him. If there's a more intense sexual experience than one of Chloe's gushers, I doubt I would survive it. His erection sure didn't. He came out limp and spent.

What was I feeling as I watched my wife come so violently with another man? It was so white-hot and blinding that I couldn't even tell what feeling it was. It overloaded me. It stunned me numb.

Chloe and R. J. both were gasping and drenched in sweat--among other things. R. J. recovered his wits first, and helped Chloe disentangle herself from her oystery posture. Aftershocks still left her quivering, even in his strong arms. She whimpered each time another jolted through her. He held her tightly, and more tenderly than I might have expected from a pimp. He stroked her hair. In a sense, her crisis wasn't over yet, but still ringing through her body and soul.

"Well, well, little lady," R. J. murmured. "If you can do that every time, no wonder you want to be a whore!"

Between heavy breaths, Chloe managed to laugh. She patted his chest, signaling to him that she was all right.

He let her go. "You'll find fresh sheets in the dresser. Why don't you change this one out--just throw it over there in the corner for now--and then I'll really put you through some paces."

As Chloe moved to obey, R. J. sauntered over to the mirror. He opened it.

"How you holdin' up? You okay with what you're seeing here?"

I nodded. I found just enough of a voice to say, "Fine."

Chloe was stretched out on a brand new sheet when R. J. got back to her. She smiled at him adoringly.

"Brace yourself," he said. "This is gonna be one wild ride."

Truer words were never spoken! He fucked her hard through a rapid series of all kinds of positions. He never held one for more than a minute. As strong as he was, and as light as she was, he controlled her body absolutely, arranging her limbs, picking her up, flipping her over, tossing her around. Several times he literally bounced her on the mattress! However she landed, however he posed her, his big black cock immediately resumed its pounding of her pussy. She seemed to like it. He paused only once--when she gushed again. He moved with her and maintained their position long enough to let her finish, but this time there was no gentle holding, no break to change sheets, no chance for her even to catch her breath. He immediately threw down in another position and kept fucking. A while later, after he'd run her through a veritable rough-sex Kama Sutra, she cried out on her third gusher, and he let himself come with her again.

He put on his pants and left. On his way out, he said, "Change that sheet again. Back in a minute."

Chloe hustled to change the sheet. She made a pile in the corner with the other one she'd soaked. She snapped on a fresh one. And then she lay down on it, ready for more.

When R. J. returned, he dropped his pants and went straight to the bed. He lay down on his back beside Chloe. "Get up on me."

She quickly straddled and mounted him.

"All right, cowgirl, let's see how ya ride."

She rode him like she was starving for sex.

"That's good," he said. "Just wanted to see how ya did. Now, hands and knees! Quick! Almost through here."

Chloe got into position for him.

He knelt behind her. "Come on, baby, give me that sweet ass."

She rested her head on a pillow. With her bottom in the air, she used both hands to hold herself open, just as she'd done in the parlor.

He started rubbing and caressing her back, her hips, her buttocks. She kept pushing her butt higher, waiting for the thrust.

"You're a beauty." He rubbed a hand down over her belly, lower. "So beautiful. So sexy." He found her clit.

"Please--!" Chloe said.

He guided himself to her little anus. He started to push in. There was a moment's hesitation.

"Easy, honey," he soothed. "Relax. Relax. Rel--" He popped in. "God damn!"

Chloe moaned. She pushed back. She took him, inch by inch.

"Good girl!" R. J. eased all the way in. "Good girl. Oh yeah." He paused a second to keep massaging her hips and bottom. "Ooooh yeah," he said softly. "That's nice. Real nice. Good girl." He started to move, slowly at first. "How's that feeling for ya?"

Her face in the pillow, Chloe gave him a thumbs-up.

He stroked for a while longer. Then, still deep inside, he pulled her to him until he lay on his back and she sat reverse-cowgirl on him.

"Up to you, now, honey. Do your thing. We're through after this. You done great so far."

Chloe elegantly raised and lowered herself along his length, occasionally balancing herself with her hands on his body. Considering what she was doing, she didn't look the least bit slutty. She looked like a beautiful woman who enjoyed anal sex and wasn't at all self-conscious about it.

Not surprisingly, R. J. came again. He grunted. He groaned. He grabbed Chloe's hips and forced her up and down to his own rhythm and depth. She winced and yelped a few times. But after he finished, they shared a sensual, long kiss.

"Bathroom's at the end of the hall," he told her. "Clean up and get dressed. Meet me down in the parlor."

Chloe got her shoes and things, and padded out.

* * * * * * * * * *

R. J. pulled on his jeans. He walked over and opened the mirror. "Show's over. Step lively."

I dragged the chair out with me, in a daze.

"Your first time? Watching her like that?"

I nodded.

"How'd you like it?"

I felt funny, standing there, hearing that question from the guy who just fucked my wife, my dearest Chloe, within an inch of her life. But even if I posed the question to myself, there was no answer I could put into words at that moment. Processing what I'd seen would take some time. The best I could do was say, "I loved it!" Which was true enough.

R. J. led me down the stairs, and waved me toward the parlor. "I'm gonna check my messages, might return some calls. You and Chloe just wait there. I won't be but a few minutes."

And then she came down.

There was something deliciously indecent about Chloe, now. Her glow. Her presence. She looked well-fucked and well-fuckable. Her black dress fit her in that strange but unmistakable way clothes do after they've been taken off for sex. Her mussy hair, the flushed face, the knowing curve of her mouth--everything about her screamed, "I just got laid!" I could imagine a child staring at her, sensing something powerful and not yet understood. I could imagine the child's mother smacking him, and telling him not to stare, then shooting Chloe a very dirty look, and perhaps muttering, "Whore!" And the best part is, the mother would be right!

When she rushed into my arms, she molded her body to mine in a far more provocative way than usual, even for us. I hugged her fiercely. I felt her hot breath on my ear.

"You were so on fire!" I whispered.

She tilted her face up. Her lips were parted. For a kiss? For a blowjob? It looked like she could happily go either way. Or both. That's how lustily she radiated sex.

"Enjoyed that, didja?" Her blue-gray eyes fixed on mine with a wicked sharpness. She rubbed her hips against me. Jesus! I was about to throw her down and fuck her right there on the trashy scarlet couch!

R. J. stepped out of his office. "Well, little lady, think you could do that ten more times without a break? On Friday, you might have to. And Saturdays are busier."

"Bring it on!" she said. "I'm ready."

R. J. laughed. "I think you are. Hell, I know you are! Welcome. You are now a Klassy Lady."

She shook his hand. They hugged.

"Now seriously," he said, "you should know that what we did up there was mild. Tricks'll fuck your ass harder. And they'll slap your ass and pull your hair and call you bitch while they're doing it."

Chloe's answer was vintage wiseass Chloe: "After all that, they'd better come on my face, too."

"You'll get plenty of that, believe me."

"Thanks. I'm looking forward to it."

R. J. looked at me. "You're really, really, really okay with this? You could watch a bunch of guys do shit to her?"

What could I say? "We want this. I want it. Yes, I can handle it."

"What should I wear?" Chloe asked. "I've got some outfits here, if you'd like to see."

"Nope," R. J. said. "I already decided on your outfit. Don't bring a thing. I'll provide it when you get here. Oh--just don't forget that wax job I mentioned. I want you bald as can be."

Chloe nodded. "Bald. Right. Anything else?"

"No sex till Friday." He pointed at me. "That means you're cut off." Back to Chloe, he said, "And don't play with yourself. That pussy is for tricks. Until you get here, you're a virgin nun. How early can you make it?"

"How's seven?" Chloe said.

"See you then. Bald. No sex."

* * * * * * * * * *

Chloe and I have fucked while driving before (she has this way of climbing into my lap), and we almost gave in to temptation on the interstate. Chloe, especially--since R. J. had to go and phrase his instruction as a stern prohibition. Fortunately, we managed to cool our fever pitch enough to see the wisdom of abstinence. It would be better, it would be, if she went in as horny as possible.

"Really, though, only my pussy is off-limits." With that, she bent down and wriggled underneath my arms, unzipped my fly, and proceeded to make the hour-plus trip home the most pleasant commute of my life. In between blowjobs, we talked a mile a minute about what happened.

"Watching you," I said, "I think I experienced a mystical disintegration of the self!"

"Forget the earth, the cosmos shook for me!"

"I couldn't believe it when he--"

"--and then I knew--"

"--the second time you came--"

"--I am feeling more relaxed about it now."

Chloe's animation and enthusiasm were infectious, and I think mine were too, for her. We started off a bit wary of each other. At first, of course, we were high and excited, but on some level we were also scared and confused about what happened. We weren't sure how each other felt about it, and weren't even sure how we ourselves felt about it. We talked up the positive, and reassured each other. And then we explored the not-so-positive feelings. My jealousy. Her difficulty switching out of "love mode" for "just sex". Each of our fears about how the other one was judging us. Partway along the interstate drive, I put the cruise control on, and she actually did end up in my lap, snuggled close with her head on my shoulder. The physical closeness, more affectionate than sexual, was something we both needed. The night glided by, with occasional headlights. We whispered in the dark. The experience had touched us very deeply to our cores, and now we had to take each other to those deep parts, and let each other see the marks that had been made.

By the time we got home, we were so worn out that sex was not an issue. We collapsed into bed. Chloe murmured, "Spoon," and I cuddled up behind her. And that was that.

Wednesday evening, however, before I left work, Chloe called me.

"I'll attack you the second you get home," she said. "Let's meet somewhere for dinner instead."

After dinner, we tried to distract ourselves by going to a movie. It worked, sort of. Chloe went down on me, but at least we didn't break the "pussy rule".

Eventually, we had to go home. By mutual agreement, I was banished to the spare bedroom. Chloe locked herself in ours. At one point in the night, I heard her pad out to the kitchen for some water. I couldn't help myself. I ran out and tackled her in the hall. We rolled on the floor, kissing like two out-of-control vacuum cleaners, dry humping, she pushing down my boxers, me pulling off her panties--finally, she slapped a hand on my chest and shouted, "Stop!"

"Oh, honey, we'll never make it this way," she said. "You need to go get a hotel room."

She was right. I packed what I needed.

In the entry-hall, I held her so tightly. She was soft and warm, she wore a little peach nightie, her brown hair needed combing, and she smelled the way she does when she's been sleeping. The next time I would see her, we'd be driving to a whorehouse to live out the fantasy. She would fuck any guy who paid. She'd do anything he paid for. She'd turn trick after trick after trick. And I would watch.

"I'll call tomorrow," I said.

"Call tonight. Tell me where you are."

We kissed.

"See you Friday."

"Love you."

It was a lonely, sleepless night for me! Thursday, I was a zombie at work. That evening, I called from the hotel.

"I got that wax job today," she told me. "Yee-oowwww!"

"Did they get it all?" I asked.

"Let me tell you, I am bald, bald, bald! Bald as a baby. Balder! A hairless Chihuahua is fuzzier than me. Wait'll you see how smooth I am!"

I could imagine. Damn, it made me hard.

We kept it short.

Finally, Friday.

I left work early, and got her right at five. We grabbed something to eat along the way, and took off on our drive out to Klassy. We didn't talk much. Too excited. As per R. J.'s instructions, Chloe didn't bring along any extra clothing, but she did have a bag for grooming needs and makeup. The drive went by very fast. Before we knew it, I was in place behind the mirror, and Chloe waited in the room for R. J.

He stepped in. "Chloe! My little lady! Are you ready for this?"

"I'm here!"

"Great! Here's your outfit." He tossed a pair of shoes on the floor at her feet. They were used, cheap, trashy, high-heel mules. Clear plastic decorated with little gold stars that were wearing off.

I couldn't believe it! We'd seen several girls since we got here, and all of them had on some kind of lingerie. I wondered if this was a joke. Apparently, it wasn't.

Chloe stared at the mules for all of a second. Then, without a word, she started to undress.

"Here's a quick rundown," R. J. said. "Remember those bells we heard the other night?"

"Mm-hmm."

"That means we have a gentleman downstairs. Unless you're occupied--and I mean with a trick--you need to hustle down there for the lineup. You and the other girls strike a sexy pose and hold it. No moving, no talking, unless the gentleman initiates it. If he picks you, Jana will handle the money, then you bring him up here. And give him what he paid for. If he wants more, he can drag his ass down there and pay again. By the way, he leaves your tips with Jana, too. You may not accept them in the room. No freebies. No exceptions. Got it?"