Old Temptations

I sped ahead to catch the second bus and then again to catch the first one. Gayle put on a show for both of those buses full of Marines as well. We were approached the junction where the 5 freeway dog legged east and the Marine buses moved over a lane to go in that direction.

As Gayle waved goodbye to the Marines, I moved over a couple of lanes to take the 405 to Santa Monica. As I did, Gayle scrambled to get her clothes back on as traffic started to slow down again and cars surrounded us once again.

Several of the cars apparently caught the show and car horns blasted all around us. Cars went by with men hanging out their windows shouting, "Show us your tits, baby!"

"Well, that was entertaining," I said drolly. "I guess I'm going to have to be more careful what I dare you to do in the future."

"YES YOU WILL!" giggled Gayle. "Don't forget--I'm a whore --a slut--so I'm up for ANYTHING!"

~~~~~

It was a pleasantly warm evening and there was a slight breeze coming off the ocean, so after checking into to the hotel we strolled down to the Third Street Promenade and found the Italian restaurant the concierge had told us about. She had called ahead, making a reservation for us. We did a little window shopping along the way, walking in the door a few minutes before our reservation.

We ate a leisurely dinner, taking our time. We were enjoying each other's company, and it seemed like old times, But when the discussion turned to our plans for tomorrow, especially the boudoir photography, we were reeled back to our new reality. We also spent some time laughing about our encounter with the three busloads of Marines on the freeway and laughed perhaps a bit too loudly.

The other diners looked over at our table because of our raucous laughter, but their eyes remained to devour the stunning auburn beauty with the skimpy black dress who seemed to exude a sexual aura. More than one irate wife had to nudge their husband to get them to look away.

Gayle was wearing the obligatory sexy LBD, little black dress. The front plunged so low that the Zircon stone lodged in her belly button was visible and the low slung 'U' shaped back of the dress barely touched the top of her ass crack, leaving the scarified script emblazoned above her shapely ass in full view.

Gayle made sure everyone in the restaurant knew she was 'Kevin's Ass Slut' before the end of the night as she made a couple of trips to the powder room, taking a different route through the restaurant each time, engaging in blatant exhibitionism.

On each of her trips to the ladies room I had to remind myself that this had once been the shy and demure woman I had married. That woman wouldn't have sashayed through the restaurant swaying her hips provocatively and seeking attention.

The reserved woman I married wouldn't have stopped to chat up each man who was brash enough to talk to her. Nor would that woman have let them feel her up, as she did now. I watched her as she made a point of bending over for each man who talked to her so they could admire her new tits.

"Find anybody you want to fuck?" I nonchalantly asked Gayle when she returned to the table after the second trip.

"Yeah, a couple," replied Gayle impishly. I could tell she had too much to drink as she slurred her words slightly. "Why--do you want to watch?"

"Maybe tomorrow night," I replied. "You have a photo shoot bright and early tomorrow morning and you need to get some rest and look your best. This photo session is costing a small fortune."

"Party pooper!" pouted Gayle, facetiously. "Two of those guys wanted to do me right there on the table."

"Yeah, I'll bet they did," I replied with a smile. "And so did most of the men in the restaurant, even the ones here with their wives."

"Well, I'd invite them too!" joked Gayle, knowing that now it was no longer just idle banter.

"We better start back," I said, getting up.

"But the check?" asked Gayle.

"I took care of it while you were powdering your nose," I replied.

I helped Gayle up and all eyes were on her as we made our way from the back of the restaurant to the door.

"Hope to see both of you again soon," said the maître d' graciously as he opened the door for us as we exited the restaurant and headed back toward Shutters.

It was starting to get a little chilly as we walked and I could tell that Gayle was shivering now, so I put my blazer over her shoulders to keep her warm. We put our arms around each other and walked through the thinning crowd of shoppers and diners toward our hotel. Again, I was struck by how much this felt like our lives before Gayle's former boyfriend sent us spiraling in a new direction.

"I can't believe how much our lives have changed in the last three months," I said pensively, wondering how Gayle would respond, how she felt about the changes in our lives--especially her own.

"Are you happy with the changes?" asked Gayle in almost a whisper.

"Yes, I think so," I replied. "And you?"

"I never saw myself being the way I am now," replied Gayle, almost wistfully, "feeling the way I do, doing the things I do."

Gayle's voice trailed off for just a couple of beats, giving me a hug as we walked and resting her head on my shoulder.

"But yes, I feel that way too!" purred Gayle after the pause. "I feel like a bird that has been let out of her cage. The last three months have been exciting--liberating."

"And you are such a beautiful bird too!" I replied, leaning over to kiss Gayle on the cheek as we cut up one of the busier and better lit side streets, heading toward the hotel.

"Are you happy with your slave, master?" whispered Gayle as we approached Ocean Avenue, her tone serious.

"Yes, I'm happy with both my slave and my lovely and desirable wife," I replied, equally serious. "I doubt there is a happier husband or master in the world."

Gayle didn't reply. She just hugged me closer and burrowed her head into my shoulder that much deeper. I could hear her sniffling.

~~~~~

I awoke with a start, momentarily not recognizing my surroundings. But as my blood began to flow, I remembered we were in Santa Monica. I looked around for Gayle, but I could neither see or hear her.

Then I looked at the nightstand next to me and I saw the note. She had gone down to the gym to work out. I smiled. This was the new Gayle, not the old one who would have slept in before heading to the breakfast buffet right before it closed.

Originally, I had to prod Gayle to go to the gym every day. After three months, she was addicted to her new exercise regimen. She was in the gym seven days a week now, three with a personal trainer who kept her focused and motivated.

Between her new auburn hair, her lusher breasts and her far more toned body, Gayle looked like a completely different woman. Men had always found Gayle, cute, pretty, attractive. But now men stopped to look at her, as did some women. She had transformed herself from the inside out. Now she was an alluring beauty that men lusted after.

The more I thought about it, I realized that the changes had first germinated inside her head. She had a new self-image as well as self-confidence. She was no longer the good and dutiful little girl that her domineering parents and grandparents had raised. She was a vivacious woman with a voracious sexual appetite that constantly needed to be kept fed.

The note said that she had left about fifteen minutes earlier. So I took a quick shower and threw on a tee shirt, gym shorts and sneakers, planning to join Gayle, since I knew she would be at least another hour going through her exercise routine.

~~~~~

"We're barely going to make it on time," I complained, looking at the dashboard clock.

"Don't worry, they're not going to start without me," deadpanned Gayle with a smile.

"No, but the meter will be running," I replied, irritated.

Once we were able to turn north on Fairfax, the traffic thinned out, and as we approached the intersection with Hollywood Boulevard, it appeared we would just make it on time. After that, I quit stressing out. I hated to be late for anything.

"If you're five minutes early--you're ten minutes late!" my father had drummed into my head.

Calm now, I asked the question that had been nagging me all morning.

"So--are you going to fuck them?" I blurted out, without taking my eyes off the road ahead of me.

"Fuck who, master?" asked Gayle, playing coy.

"The two porn stars," I pressed.

"I don't think they are stars yet," countered Gayle, coyly playing with me, "just actors."

"Yeah, whatever," I replied impatiently, "you know what I mean."

"Well, they are kind of hunky," replied Gayle, remaining infuriatingly coy, "and they do seem to have other attributes to recommend themselves."

"You mean they have big cocks," I replied bluntly.

"That would be one of them," giggled Gayle.

"So, are you going to fuck them or not?" I asked, growing weary of the repartee.

"That is up to master--remember!" replied Gayle. "Those decisions are your department, master! Not mine!"

"Then yes, master wishes it," I replied.

"Does master wish to watch those two hunky porn actors ravage me with their huge cocks?" asked Gayle, her voice suddenly less coy.

"YES!" I replied. "Will my slave enjoy the experience?"

"If that is what master wishes, then yes, his slave will enjoy it," replied Gayle. I could sense the growing excitement in her voice.

Neither of us spoke for a while. We were making good time as we drove east on Hollywood Boulevard. Both of us were taking in the sights of "Old Hollywood" as we looked out our windows.

It was becoming increasingly apparent to me that Gayle would make no decision regarding sex herself--so long as I would make them for her. She was willing to do anything I wanted--but it had to be MY decision, not hers.

I knew she had enjoyed everything we had done thus far because she had said so. But she didn't want to deal with any pangs of guilt. She much preferred being a slave to her master, rather than a slave to her conscience.

"Do you want them to double penetrate me, master?" asked Gayle, breaking the silence. Was it excitement or nervousness I heard in her voice, I wondered.

"Do you want them to DP me in my ass or pussy--or both?" asked Gayle, her voice trembling slightly.

Before I could answer, I saw the sign for the photographer's studio ahead on the right and I was distracted from our conversation momentarily. I looked in the rearview mirror and moved from the left lane to the right, preparing to park. I could see an open parking space just beyond the studio ahead of me and I pulled in. Grimacing at the dashboard clock, we were about five minutes early.

Gayle got out of the car as I turned off the ignition and set the parking break. Looking over as she leaned out the door and stepped up onto the curb, for the first time I noticed that she was wearing the largest of her butt plugs. Obviously, she had been planning ahead.

The photographer's studio was on the second floor above one of the plethora of T shirt and souvenir shops along the boulevard. There was a glass door with the studio's name on it in gold leaf on the far right corner of the old building. We stepped through the door and began climbing the steep narrow stairway.

"Yes! Both!" I said as we were about a third of the way up the stairs with me in the lead.

"Huh?" asked Gayle, sounding confused.

"The answers to your questions," I replied.

"OH! Yeah!" replied Gayle, her voice sounding subdued.

"Those are the answers you wanted," I added acerbically as we climbed the stairs. "Weren't they?"

"Why would you say that?" countered Gayle defensively, as we neared the top of the stairway.

"Because you wouldn't have asked the question unless you wanted it to be my decision," was my irritated response. "Be honest with yourself--and me--you weren't asking questions, you were asking for permission."

I turned to look at Gayle when I didn't hear her clacking along behind me in her high heels. She was standing still on the stairway, staring up at me with a hurt look on her face.

"Hans had both the models text me this morning, just to break the ice," said Gayle very slowly and deliberately, her voice sounding hollow and lifeless as she glared at me. "One of them asked me what was on the menu. He specifically asked about DPs. So, thank you for letting me know what you want, master. Your wish will be my command!"

Gayle tone was sarcastic now as she spoke the final sentence.

Before I could respond, she rushed up the last few steps, brushing past me before shaking hands with the woman waiting for her. It was the hair and makeup artist she had talked to on the phone the previous day, I surmised. They disappeared into a small room on the right. Gayle never looking back.

~~~~~

As I stood waiting at the back of the studio, the two male models came over to introduce themselves. They could tell I felt awkward, so after saying their hellos, they quickly retreated to the other side of the room and struck up a conversation with the photographer's apprentice who was setting up and adjusting the lighting.

It was an hour later before Gayle and the woman exited the makeup room. During that time Han's and his assistant had set everything up and finished dressing the various mini-sets in preparation for the shoot.

The hour had also given me plenty of time to beat myself up for opening my big mouth and jumping to conclusions. I hoped that I would have the opportunity to make my apologies to Gayle and smooth things over before she had two cocks stuffed up her ass or pussy. But after she came out of the makeup room, she assiduously avoided making any eye contact with me.

Hans' curt instruction to me was icily pointed, after he found out I planned on staying for the shoot. I was to stay behind the lighting and other equipment at all times and not interfere with HIS photo shoot. Hans gave off the vibe of an egocentric 'auteur' who was used to being obeyed and catered to.

He made it abundantly clear that he wasn't happy that I was there. Hans bluntly told me that having husband's hanging around was a buzz kill, inhibiting the wives and lovers who were the subjects of his photos and videos from giving him their full attention and stymied their spontaneity.

From where I was standing near the back of the room, I really couldn't see Gayle very well through the equipment that obstructed my view. What I did notice when she returned from the makeup room was that her copper colored body had been oiled and it glistened under the artificial lighting.

But after only a couple of minutes watching the strobes flash, Hans angrily called a break and I watched the cosmetician lead Gayle back to the makeup room.

A few minutes passed and then Hans' assistant approached me.

"You're distracting your wife," said the young apprentice. "Hans asked me to take you to his office."

Without waiting for my answer, the young man walked toward a door on the left side of the studio and I followed him in and he left me there. When he returned a couple of minutes later, he was carrying a monitor with a long cable attached. He set it up on the low coffee table in front of a loveseat to the right of the desk.

"Come over here," he said. "You can sit here and watch the shoot. You'll have a better view from here anyway."

Properly chastised, I took a seat and saw a wide angle overhead view of the sets. He was right, it was a better view. As I settled back on the loveseat, I saw Gayle come back out of the makeup room. She looked around for a moment and spoke to Hans briefly before returning to the chaise where he had been photographing her previously.

For the next two hours Gayle moved from set to set as Hans shot photos and his assistant shot video. Hans shot both glam and gyno shots of my wife as his camera clicked furiously as he ordered my wife to strike various poses, often touching and positioning her body.

The third hour of the shoot was devoted to progressively more provocative photos and videos with the two male models in which there was a lot of touching and simulated sex. I wasn't prepared when Gayle, who had obviously warmed up to the two porn actors, performed oral sex on each of them, letting them cum in her mouth.

After she had coaxed each of the porn actors to a new erection, she allowed one of the actors to tit fuck her while she gave another blow job to the second actor. The session ended when the two actors stood over her, ejaculating all over her face and breasts.

Hans called a short lunch break and I watched as Gayle and the stylist returned to the makeup room with the obvious intent of cleaning Gayle up. Everyone wolfed down one of the sandwiches that had been prepared and Hans' assistant took a sandwiches into Gayle and the other woman, and to me too.

Sensing that I was persona non grata in the studio, I stayed in Hans' office, but hoping to talk to Gayle before they continued the shoot.

I desperately wanted to do my 'mea culpas' before Gayle allowed things to get any farther out of hand. I wanted to stop her from being double penetrated. I'd only pretended to go along with the idea because I was mad at her, thinking she wanted it.

As I anxiously waited for Gayle to come out of the makeup room, Hans went over and went inside. When he came out, he joined me in his office.

"Gayle wants you to leave," Hans said bluntly. "She wanted me to ask you to wait in the car. She said she would come down when she is done."

"No! I want to talk to her," I angrily replied.

"She was very clear," said Hans. "She doesn't want to talk to you right now, nor does she want you here for the remainder of the shoot. She wants you to wait in the car. She said she doesn't want you making a fool of yourself or embarrass her either. She said to just go. She'll come out when she's finished."

I was crestfallen, humiliated--I felt defeated! I was looking down at the floor when Hans uttered his last couple of sentences. I got up without looking at him and walked out the door, down the stairway and went and sat in the car.

To add insult to injury, once I was literally kicked to the curb, the convertible was already ticketed. The meter had run out, so I walked into the T shirt store and got more change to fill the meter. Then I waited for Gayle. An hour passed. I thought seriously about going back up to the studio but was afraid what I might see. I also feared that Gayle would find my watching her humiliating, and I didn't want to add to her distress. She was already mad at me.

After another hour and a half, Gayle stumbled from the doorway, walking gingerly toward the car. She opened the passenger door and threw a plastic bag on my lap as she got in and sat down without looking at me. She stared straight ahead.

"Your video is in the bag," droned Gayle zombielike. "There are thumbnails of the photos too. You'll have to pay extra for usable copies of the ones you like. Can we go now!"

Gayle said nothing more as we retraced our route back to Santa Monica. It was late afternoon now and the sun glared in my eyes as I drove. I decided to give Gayle some space and wait for her to say something. It wasn't until we were past Rodeo Drive and approaching the Wilshire Boulevard intersection that Gayle finally spoke.

"Why did you abandon me in there for seven hours?" whimpered Gayle breathily as she began to cry softly. "You were supposed to stay with me--support me! How could you be so cruel so thoughtless! Didn't it occur to you that I might want to beg out of some of it? That I might need your support!"

Gayle's chest was heaving now as the tears really began to flow.

"Or were you afraid that I might not want to do what you wanted!" seethed Gayle. "Is that why you abandoned me for seven long hours? Is it?"

I wasn't sure how to respond. None of what she was saying was true.