My Curious Wife

'Sordid, but hot', my wife Jane commented, fascinated by what she was seeing.

We had agreed to dog sit for three nights for some friends. Rather than bring their spaniel and all its clutter to our house, they suggested we make it a bit of a break and stay over in the city in their flat, or apartment, as American's would call it. So that's what we did. It was not too far from Temple Meads, the main railway station in Bristol. And from the fifth story we had a great view across the city.

It was our first night. We had eaten out, a cheap but good ethnic restaurant, and then meandered our way back to the flat. The warm summer night air from what the papers were calling a heatwave filled the room. While Jane quickly bathed I opened a bottle of chilled and very good Chablis our friends had left for us as a 'thank you'. I managed to locate some matches and lit the three large cathedral candles lined up on the dining table, and turned out the lights so we could make the most of our view of the city spread out before us. Jane emerged into the room naked, smiled at me. She had forgotten to pack her nightshirt, so as I watched she slipped her thin summer dress back on and then joined me out on the balcony. It was very pleasant in the slightly cooler air, the two of us leaning on the cast iron balustrade, surveying the world around us.

''There she is again' Jane commented.

'She's pretty; I wonder why she does it?' I asked.

The 'she' was a working girl, a prostitute. Late teens, nice looking, good figure, very short skirt. We had noticed her earlier, along with some other girls, hanging discreetly on the street corner across the way.

'I wonder how many men she, well... does, each night?' Jane speculated idly.

I shrugged 'No idea to be honest. Two. Three?'

'I bet its more.'

'Really?'

'Oh yeah. I wonder what it's like?' she continued, sipping her wine.

'What what is like?' I asked.

'To fuck. For money.' My wife replied.

'Awful?'

'Not if you like money. And fucking.' she replied, smiling and raising a questioning eyebrow.

We continued to watch and chat.

Just then a car slowed to a stop and girl stepped forward, head down to speak to the driver. A deal must have been struck because she walked around to the passenger side and climbed in. We watched the Audi disappear round the corner, and went back to our wine.

Neither of us noticed her being dropped off, but less than half an hour later Jane just said

'Look, there she is again, that didn't take too long did it?' and we both giggled and sipped our wine.

'I wonder how much she charges?' Jane asked.

'Dunno, fifty quid a pop?' I speculated.

'Easy money for twenty minutes work!' she giggled again.

'Hardly!' I countered.

Less than five minutes later we watched as a man walked down the street past her. We heard her say something to him, but she was too far away for us to make out her words. He hesitated, and then stopped and she made her pitch. It must have been persuasive because it hadn't looked like he had come this way for this purpose. Nevertheless when she turned and walked away from us he looked over his shoulder, and then followed a few paces behind. We couldn't see more because of the angle of the road.

'Well, that's going to be a hundred quid simply in the time we have been out here'. Jane commented with a hint of admiration in her voice. Just then she leaned forward and I saw her concentrating.

'Look! Over there between the buildings.' she said her voice more urgent.

What? I asked

'There, in that alley, that's them!'

She was right. The young woman and her punter must have turned down a small alleyway, the entrance of which was out of sight, and reappeared in a very small walled parking area, about big enough for four or five cars. I remembered when we walked past the building earlier that there had been a small alleyway sandwiched between a chemist and a solicitor's office, so I guessed this was the private parking for the solicitors. It wasn't well lit, but a security light on another building meant it wasn't in darkness either. We watched fascinated as he handed her something, money presumably, which she tucked in her handbag.

'There you go, fifty quid I bet.' I said, very slightly uneasy that we were watching, but totally unable to not watch.

Then we saw her carefully place her handbag on the ground, and reach unselfconsciously under her short skirt to pull down her knickers. She stepped carefully out of them in her high heels and popped them in her handbag. She then dropped to her knees and unzipped him.

'Blow job!' I continued my commentary.

However I was wrong, what she did next was reach into her handbag.

'No, condom' Jane rightly guessed. The girl expertly opened the packet and rolled the condom on. Although we couldn't make out detail what was happening was unmistakable. Then she stood and hitched her skirt up around her middle, her lower half now bare other than her high heels, and lent back against the wall. The man felt her pussy for a few moments then tucked an arm under each knee and lifted her so she was splaying her wide open. We could see his bottom between her bobbing legs as he roughly fucked her up against the wall.

'Oh My!' Jane exclaimed in fascination. She too was unable to turn her eyes away from the human drama below as the young girl was being screwed.

I turned to look at my wife, who like me leant against the cast iron balustrade. She was biting her lip and didn't even notice me glance at her she was so focused on the coupling. The woman had her arms around his neck for support and her face visible over his shoulder. I was sure she must see us as he pounded her, but if she did she gave no sign. I wasn't sure but I even thought I could hear him grunt as he very obviously came, his fast rhythm changing to half a dozen slower really pronounced thrusts causing her knees to flex and her legs to straighten.

They were done. Her client released her knees and her legs fell to the ground and their bodies parted. They were motionless a moment, both looking down, presumably removing the condom. We saw him toss it aside.

'Eeeew, ucky!' Jane commented. I remember smiling and hoping some young lady solicitor didn't accidentally stand on it in the morning.

In a second he turned and was lost from sight, leaving the young woman alone. We watched as she quickly took a tissue or wipe of some sort from her bag and used it on her bits, requiring a very unladylike stance. She then retrieved her knickers from her bag and stepped back into them. Finally she rolled her tight skirt back down and straightening herself.

Three minutes later she was back on the street, talking on her mobile phone. Five minutes later another girl joined her and then shortly after a taxi pulled up and the two climbed in and sped away. Work was done for the night and for us the show was over. However just before the girl stepped into the taxi she hesitated, looked up at us, smiled and waved cheerily.

'Oh God she knew we were watching her!' Jane exclaimed in embarrassment.

We were silent for a moment then my wife's next words took me aback.

'Honey, fuck me, now, out here on the balcony, don't say anything just walk round behind me and lift my dress and fuck me.'

I rather nervously moved behind my wife and hitched up the hem of her dress. She hadn't put her knickers back on after bathing, and she was already bent forward so it was simply a case of releasing my erection and entering her. She was sopping wet and she loves it from behind. I was rewarded by the most wonderful gasp as I slid home the first time. I guess I was rather nervous at the risk of getting caught and I thrust rapidly, I suppose hoping we would be done before anyone passed by or looked over or up.

'No, no! Slowly, do me slowly.' Jane whispered insistently.

It was far from pitch black and the wrought iron work balustrade hid nothing. I could feel Jane pushing back, savouring each slow in and out. This was heady stuff, a mix of sexual tension and fear of being seen. Jane then lifted the tension a thousand percent.

'I could do that you know.'

'What?' I asked, keeping the steady slow rhythm she was enjoying so much.

'Stand down there. Get picked up. Let some guy fuck me. For money.'

'WHAT?'

'DON'T YOU DARE STOP' she demanded as her words caused me to miss the beat, and then 'Ah, that's better' as I rocked back into her.

'You're joking right?'

We rocked back and forth, slowly gently, not too obviously, chatting in time to the strokes.

'It's been a fantasy, for a long time. It's EVERY girls fantasy. To know what it's like to be a whore.'

'You never told me!'

'No. It's not easy to admit is it?'

'Seriously?'

'Yes, but I'm too old and ugly' she said with a sad sigh, rather too obviously fishing for complements.

'Darling you are 35 and beautiful, you would make a great whore' I was able to truthfully say as she giggled.

The talk had made me hot and I started to speed up when she almost yelled.

'Don't cum!'

Damn, I thought, the dirty talk had taken me to the edge. Just then Jane flexed her hips rapidly forward so that I fell out of her. She stood upright, her summer dress falling back down over her bare bottom.

'Stay there. Don't move.'

And she was gone for just a moment. We had finished the wine earlier but a second later she appeared with an open can of beer. I thought OK, a beer break. Why not?

'Drink this, slowly. Enjoy.' She disappeared again, I assumed to pour a drink for herself, however the next thing I heard was the apartment door close. I felt like an idiot, stood there on the balcony my own, holding a can of beer and with my erection starting to fade wondering what was going on. I smelt a waft of Channel No 5, Jane's most expensive perfume.

'Oh My God' I said to myself as realisation began to dawn. I looked down and what seemed an age later my fears were confirmed when my wife walked out of the front door of our building. Jane had picked up a pretty little clutch handbag and she was wearing high heels. She was brushing her hair as she crossed the street, and I watched as she put it up into a ponytail. She really did look stunning, if a little oddly dressed so late at night in her very flimsy white sundress. I went to call to ask her what on earth she thought she was doing but no words came. Somehow my hand was on my cock, now rock hard again, not believing what I was seeing.

Jane positioned herself exactly where the young woman had been, and looked up at me. I don't know what made me do it, but I turned so she could see a little better and began to very obviously stroke my cock. She was watching me intently. I was sure she would end the game then. The thrill of standing there would be enough, and any moment she would cross back so we could finish making love.

It was then that a BMW pulled up beside her. The passenger window must have been down because she leaned right in to talk to the driver. Moments later my wife looked up at me as she opened the car door and climbed in, and a second later the brake lights went out and the car pulled away.

I stood there barely able to breath. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My wife had just climbed into a car with a complete stranger, and been carted of too God knows where, presumably having just agreed to have sex with him for money. Thoughts of kidnappers and rapists and axe murderers swamped my brain.

Seconds later I saw the light beams, well before I saw the BMW. The headlights blazed against the limestone wall at the far end of the little carpark that had been put to use earlier in the evening. She must have told him to turn down the alley to the parking. With a rush of blood to the head as I realised that Jane not only intended to get laid for money, she intended for me to see it happen.

The BMW pulled up in the secluded walled carpark, not parking in the marked bays, just rolling to a halt in the middle of the space. The headlight lights were tuned off, but no one got out. For almost ten minutes nothing stirred and I was as anxious as it was possible to be. What on earth could they be discussing?

Then I watched breathlessly and felt a sharp stab of jealousy as I realise they were making out. Kissing. I could see him reasonably well as he was closest, but less of Jane. Until, that is, my wife lowered her head down to his lap. In the dark I couldn't make much out detail at first. Until that is, Jane stopped what she was doing and switched the internal curtesy light on. I knew she did it deliberately, not for him, for me. Then the bobbing of her head and the flicking of her ponytail were unmistakeable. I could even see his cock and her face. She was looking my way as she sucked him off. My wife, the woman I loved, and with whom I had been making love less than half an hour earlier, was giving a stranger a blow job for money. And she was doing it deliberately right in front of me, and she wanted me to watch. My hand was working my cock in time with her bobbing. I saw his head loll back and thought of her lips and her skill and enthusiasm at sucking cock. I expected it to be over, but every now and then she stopped, and they appeared to talk for a few minutes, and then her head would drop back down to his lap and it would begin all over again. Jane, I thought with detachment. Don't you know prostitutes are meant to get it over as quickly as they can, not to edge their clients? For almost half an hour, on and off I watched my wife suck him, saw her ponytail bobbing and flicking, up and down.

Then the car door opened and Jane climbed out of the BMW, leaving her door open. She walked around and stood perhaps five yards in front of the car. Then he must have deliberately switched the headlights on, bathing her in light. Thank God, I thought. It must be over, he was leaving.

However the shadowy figure didn't start the engine. What he did do was open his door too, and turn on what must have been the CD or a connected iPod or something. It wasn't loud but in the evening stillness I could just about hear enough to pick out the tune.

As the first chords floated across I felt a jolt. It was a song from decades ago that Jane and I had discovered together. I was astonished anyone else had ever heard of it, let alone had it to hand in their car. It was a song called 'A little bit more' sung by an American group called 'Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show'. My wife loved it and more than once we had lay on a rug in front of our fire on a cold winter's night making love to this music. She must have asked him if he had the song, but it was surely a hell of a coincidence that he did!

My wife then did something for him that she quite often did for me, and I felt a stab of jealousy again. She started to dance. She is a really, really sexy dancer and both he and I separately watched her from our different vantage points transfixed as she swayed so sensually to the music. Her sultry shadow was cast against the wall behind her as she moved. The headlights were powerful enough to punch straight through the sundress, so it looked more like she was wearing a gossamer wrap than a dress. She was twisting this way and that, lifting the hem of her dress teasingly at first to revealing glimpses of her bare bottom and neatly trimmed triangle. I could barely breathe.

In the end it was too much for him. He called and she stopped dancing and walked towards the car. I could hear that he was speaking but not make out the words. Presumably they were commands, for Jane crossed her arms and in one fluid motion took off her sundress and tossed it onto the roof of the car. She stood there naked other than her high heels. Then he jumped out of the front seat, kneeled to, I realise, use the electric motor to move the seat right forward, and opened the door to the back of the car and climbed in and sat downright on the edge of the seat. Jane followed him and simply climbed onto his lap facing him and kissed him passionately. There was something unbelievably erotic seeing my naked wife climb on this clothed businessman. With the door open it was quite possible to catch the moment of penetration as her hand went down between them to guide him and she lowered herself onto him. Then she began to fuck him, slowly at first then faster and faster, bouncing up and down on his cock. Not too long after that I saw her push herself right down, her head thrown back and heard my wife cry out as she came, and from his body movements I was in no doubt at all that he had just filled her up. My own cock jerked and a stream of semen shot in a hot jet into the night.

They stayed in their embrace, with Jane still straddling him. They were kissing again, presumably with him still inside her, at least at first. I wondered if they had used a condom, but I already knew in my heart they had not. I thought of her pussy, full of his cock, leaking his cum, and I shuddered. We had been trying for a while for a baby so she wasn't using contraception, and it was about the right time of the month.

My thoughts were distracted as they detangled themselves and both climbed out of the car. I could make out as he did up his flies, and then they kissed again. He was of course fully clothed. My wife was still naked other than for her high heels. Almost reluctantly she retrieved her dress from the roof of the car, and pulled it over her head. Soon after he began to turn the car and I saw him pass her clutch bag out of the window, and they had some sort of discussion. She bent forward one last time and kissed him. I thought he was going to leave her there in the carpark. What actually happened was that Jane walked in front of the BMW theatrically pointing and leading the way. All the while my wife was holding her dress up round her middle so that her bottom was not only bare, but fully highlighted by the headlights. He drove a few feet behind her at a snail's pace as she very deliberately sashaying her white rump from side to side, turning now and gains to wiggle her pussy at him. They soon disappeared from my sight back down the alley. She must have already said her final goodbyes quickly because she reappeared on the corner quite soon after, and alone.

I thought that would be it and she would come straight back to me, but she didn't. She stood right out on that street corner, not looking my way at all. When soon after another car slowed she walked to over it and started talking to the driver. Another businessman or perhaps a salesman by the looks of it I decided, this time in a top end Ford. I watched her open the door and climb in. They too went down the alley and both climbed into the back seat and slid down out of sight. He was very quick and she was back in minutes this time. She didn't come back after him, either.

She visited the carpark twice more that night, once with a guy that she propositioned as he walked past, probably on his way home from a late opening pub or party. Two minutes of talk then they started walking. He fucked up against the wall in almost exactly the same spot and style as the prostitute had been had earlier in the evening. I think she did it like that deliberately.

Then there were two young black lads together, teenagers I'd guess, in an old beaten up Peugeot. They hauled her out of the back and bent my wife over the bonnet of their car, and lifted her sundress up over her back. Then they took turns at her. It was one of the hottest things I have ever seen. They fucked her brains out.

In neither case were proceedings as well lit as with the first guy, but I could see enough to work out the basics of what was happening, and heard enough to know she came on each of their cocks. The two black lads were rough, fucking her hard and pulling her back onto their cocks with one hand round her throat and the other pulling on her ponytail. I wondered if I should intervene, but my wife's orgasms told me otherwise.