Pimping at Work Ch. 03

"This," I said, "is payment in advance from your next customer. Mike will call you tomorrow."

"Just a minute!" she yelled. "I never agreed to do anyone but George."

"You said last night when you insisted on being a whore that you wanted to do whatever makes me happy. You wouldn't lie to me, would you?"

"You son of a bitch. I can't believe I let you manipulate me into this. And I'm supposed to be a psychologist."

"I tried to stop things last night. You manipulated yourself."

"You're right. Since Chuck was in on the bidding war, he will probably want me too. Who else was there?"

"Just the four of us; however, none of them is very discreet. I'm sure they will spread the word and help us drum up more business. And there will be repeat customers."

"What about my psychology practice and my patients? I can't just walk away from them. They depend on me."

"That's why you should make the where and when arrangements. Think of this as a part-time job, or as a way of filling open time on your calendar."

"Okay, marketing is your department. I'm the merchandise." She put her arms around my waist and hugged me tightly. "If I didn't love you so much, I'd have you arrested, you wonderful pimp."

"Let's get cleaned up and go out. We should celebrate our new business venture."

Jenny wore her black cocktail dress with the frilly lace front and plunging neckline. There weren't any hooks or buttons to close the front so the space between her breasts was exposed. Her nipples were plainly outlined. Only a small portion of her boobs was visible. The dress was snug enough to keep them from falling out. It hugged her waist and hips. The hemline was only a couple inches below the curve of her bottom leaving her legs fully displayed. Her black high heeled sandals stretched her calf muscles into straight lines. Sexy would be an understatement. She looked hotter than a welding torch. I wore a golf shirt, a pair of slacks, and no underwear. I knew from experience that when Jenny dressed up like that I was in for an erotic evening.

Lord Winston is the best restaurant in town. The food is superb; the service is first class; and the atmosphere is very romantic. The booths are very dimly lit. The seats are semicircular so couples can scoot around and sit side-by-side instead of across from each other. The tablecloths are oversized and reach down to the diners' laps. They are longer in front hanging down to within a foot of the floor. The most anyone could see of the customers below the table surface would be their feet. The background music is soft, but loud enough to drown out the panting and gasping of romantically inclined couples. The dividers are high enough that it is impossible to see into the next booth. The wait staff is very discreet. Many a time Jenny jacked me off into a napkin while a server stood in front of our table seemingly surveying the dining room.

That particular evening, I could hear Jenny's bottom sticking to the faux leather seat cover as she moved around to the rear center of the seat. After we ordered a bottle of champagne, I turned to her and said, "It sounds like you're wearing your thong tonight."

"It does sound that way," she said sweetly, "but I'm not."

I put my right arm around her shoulder and ran my fingertips up her left inner thigh. When I encountered her soft, downy pubic fur, I smiled and gave her a gentle kiss. Her left hand found my growing prick through the material of my pants. Quickly she opened my fly and pulled out my rapidly expanding member. "What would Freud say about what we're doing?" I asked her with a leering grin.

"He'd say, 'Shut up and enjoy yourselves'" she replied laughing softly. She looked into my eyes while she stroked my dick to its maximum length and stiffness. "Now let's see how quiet you can be," she giggled. She moved away from me a couple feet and ducked her head under the tablecloth. Her lips formed a seal around the head of my cock. That was a first for us. Never before had she given me head in a booth. I spread my arms out along the back of the seat and closed my eyes while she worked her oral magic on me. It wasn't long before my breathing quickened, and I was gasping for breath. My hips rose up from the cushions, and my seed spurted into her throat. Not a single drop of my jism escaped from her mouth. As she sat up, our server walked away. Two glasses of champagne were on the table, and the bottle was in an ice bucket.

After we ordered our entreés, we began making out again. My fingertips explored her slit while we engaged in long tender kisses. Her labia opened, and I traced the outer edges with my index finger. Her breathing slowed. With her eyes locked on mine, she turned on the seat and lifted her left leg up. I slid forward a few inches. Her leg straightened out behind me. I looked across the table; no server was standing in front of it. When I turned my head back toward her, she was already laying down on the seat. I lowered my head between her legs and licked her wide-open slit. She gave a strong but quiet gasp as my tongue passed her clit. Each time I passed her mini-dick she shuddered and gasped again. On the sixth pass, her legs clamped against my head holding it immobile. She had stuffed her napkin into her mouth to keep from crying out. When we sat up, our food was on the table, and our server was walking away.

It was only eight-thirty when we left Lord Winston. Jenny suggested we go dancing, something we hadn't done for months. A hotel a couple blocks away had a lounge with a dance floor, so we went there. There weren't any booths there, only tables. We found an empty one a couple rows back from the band and the dance floor. After our drinks came, we went to the floor.

The band played a couple of slow numbers, and we swayed to the music. Our lips met in a tender kiss every few seconds. I'm certain everyone else thought we were newlyweds. Three years of matrimony hardly made us oldlyweds. The intensity of our love had grown over time, and we made love more often than when we were first married. We had become more brazen with our passions, not less. I would have happily stayed there all night holding her in my arms.

The band switched to an up-tempo number from the forties. We had both taken social dancing in college, so we decided to jitterbug. The jitterbug, for those of you who have never seen or done it, is a very energetic dance. Both partners circle each other a lot and spin on their toes. The woman will go behind the man and squat down; he reaches between his legs, grips her hands, and pulls her forward between his legs. At one point she bends forward and rolls across his back, her legs pointing straight up, and lands on her feet. All the other couples quickly moved to the sidelines to watch us as we went through the routine we had practiced for three years. Yes, we were very good at it, and, yes, we had forgotten Jenny wasn't wearing panties, at least I had. Every time we spun, or she went under my legs, or rolled over my back, her snatch was displayed to everyone in the place. When the song ended, the crowd cheered and applauded so loudly that we felt obligated to take a bow. The band members had a splendid view of her bare bottom when she bent over.

As we sat down at our table, a man approached us. "Excuse me," he said. "I want to tell I you I enjoyed your dancing."

"Thank you," I said.

"Why don't you have a seat?" Jenny said.

He sat immediately. "Thanks," he said. "I'm Joe. You, sir, are a very fortunate man to have such a beautiful wife. You are married?"

"Three years last month," I said. "The jitterbug isn't easy to learn."

"Obviously you've had lots of practice. You could probably win some contests, especially, ma'am, if you wore that dress. I couldn't help thinking -- you've probably heard this before -- I couldn't help thinking 'What I wouldn't give to be able to spend just a couple hours with her.' I hope I'm not offending you."

"Would you give a thousand dollars?" Jennifer said before I could speak.

"Gladly. Your dancing style is very hot."

"Let's see your money."

"Is it all right with you, sir?"

I had intended the evening to be just for Jenny and me, no outsiders. She had me in a corner. "Of course," I said. He took the thousand from his wallet and started to hand it to her. I took it from his hand. "I handle the finances. That way you aren't paying her."

They stood up. Jenny gave me a quick kiss. "See you at eleven," she said.

I watched as the love of my life, the most beautiful woman in the world, my wife, walked out of the lounge with another man for the express purpose of fucking him for money, money that was in my pocket. It was happening because I couldn't go along with a running joke.

Would Joe be a lousy lay like George? Would he be a good lover? Would he be better than me? Was his equipment bigger or smaller than mine?

Why was Jennifer going along with it? Was she getting tired of me? Was she trying to teach me a lesson of some kind? Would she get tired of whoring and let our lives get back to normal? That would mean cutting off the guys at work. How would they react if she quit? Could we go back to our previous way of life after starting the prostitution thing? Would she want to?

Images of Jenny and Joe in bed flashed through my mind. They were intermingled with visions of her with George. I could see her fucking Mike and Chuck and dozens of other men. I probably should have been angry, angry with her, angry with myself.

My breathing was becoming labored. My cock was very stiff and clearly outlined against my trousers. I didn't want to soak my pants with my semen, and I wasn't in a good place to discreetly masturbate. The paper napkin would be useless, and the table didn't have a cloth. I looked around, spotted the men's room, and walked as quickly as I could to it. The first stall was filthy, but I had no intention of sitting on the commode. I yanked my meat out and started pulling on it. In a few seconds, my seed flew. This time I didn't clean up what missed the bowl.

The cocktail waitress kept eyeing the second drink on my table. I nursed mine trying to avoid having to order a second one. By ten o'clock I had finished both drinks and had to buy another one. Jenny didn't get back until eleven-fifteen. "Sorry to be late," she said quickly. "I can't stick around. There is another guy waiting in the lobby for me." She pushed some cash into my shirt pocket. "Here's his money. Don't lose it."

"How was Joe?"

"Much better than George. I'm starting to like being a prostitute. Including Mike's money for tomorrow, I've made four thousand dollars today. That's about what I charge in a week as a therapist."

"I thought this would be an evening just for us," I said somewhat annoyed.

"I know, but self-employed people can't pass up customers. I think you should go home while you can still drive. I'll take a cab. This place closes at midnight."

"When can we have time for us?"

"I'll have time for you when I get home. Don't worry. You're still my main squeeze."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I love all the attention I'm getting. Now listen. This is what we're going to do. Mike will be calling me tomorrow, and I'll take care of him. You'll get Chuck set up plus anyone else you work with that's interested. Tomorrow night we'll come back here early and jitterbug just like we did tonight. Flashing my pussy was the best possible marketing idea we could have come up with."

"But...."

"I know I said you could watch. Most guys don't like to have an audience, but we'll work something out. Maybe we can set up our video recorder or something. Now you go home while I fuck this guy. I'll be home when I'm done."

"I'll wait for you in the car."

"You don't have to." She started to get up.

"I want to be close by in case you need help." She sat back down. "I married you for better or for worse. Having my wife become a hooker is about as worse as it gets. I love you, Jennifer. Nothing you do will ever change that. I'm going to have to get used to sharing you. Maybe you're right about me wanting this. I don't know. All I do know is that I love you and that I'll never leave you. I want you to know that."

She gazed at her lap for a second, then looked into my eyes. "I love you too. I love you more than I ever did." She placed her hand softly on my cheek and gave me a long lingering kiss. I held her hand for a moment, and we both smiled. "You'll always wait for me?"

"Absolutely. I'll be in the car."

She strutted out to the lobby and out of my sight. I knew that I'd be hot for her when she was finished with him, and that she'd be hot for me. I guess that's not a bad thing.