The Bungalow

Having satisfied me orally, Joyce manoeuvred me onto the bed. However much I was enjoying it, I knew this woman sucking the strength back into my cock was no longer behaving like the woman I loved. The way she was doing it made me feel more like a client being serviced by a whore, than a husband being loved by his wife. However, the result was the same, and I was soon able to fuck her long and hard, more like a client fucking a whore than a husband loving his wife.

Finally over, my wife told me the takeaway would be here by eight. During dinner, while my wife was making conversation, I was still thinking about her tongue stud. The fact this Thomas guy had told her to get it wasn't my biggest problem. She must have known that I'd already accepted that men were asking her to do things for them all the time.

My problem was that she had lied about it when she told me it was a mouth ulcer. It was her lying to me and the deceit that hurt me more than why she's done it.

Now the problem I had with my marriage had just become much more serious. Perhaps it was time to seriously considering making some changes in my own life.

Monday evening, of the following week, when Joyce sat down next to me, I knew something was different because she didn't sit on my lap.

'Stan, darling, things have changed since I was away last week. I wanted to say something like, really, but she stopped me with a gesture. 'When I escorted Thomas to his convention I met another girl who was there as an escort for another delegate, and we got talking. She told me about the agency she has been with for nearly three years Unlike most they specialise in supplying older ladies, like me to escort middle ages and elderly gentlemen. After everything she told me, I'm convinced it would be much better for us if I was an escort, instead of a prostitute.

That was the first time she had ever called herself a prostitute. 'Wow! Joyce, darling, does that mean instead of several men every day you will only have one man for several days.' I could see my interruption was not welcome.

She gave me an annoyed look, whereas I used to get a nice kiss. 'If you want to put it like that, Stan, yes I might be needed for several days or even a whole week.' The look on my face at the thought of another man having sex with my wife for a whole week probably caused her to add. 'Anyway darling, I won't be needing the bungalow anymore, so perhaps we can sell it and go away together for a nice, long cruise because as an escort I won't be working all the time.'

I wondered if she had discussed this with Cheryl and if she'd told all her regular clients.

Joyce's first escorting job from her new agency was the following Thursday. I thought that was very quick for an agency to assess her suitability for escorting work and then find her first client. Perhaps the woman she met at the conference had put in a recommendation. After her deceit over the tongue stud, I thought it was far more likely that Joyce had been in contact with the agency even before the supposed meeting with the girl at the conference.

When I told Barbara, she told me I couldn't stay in the house alone, and insisted on taking me to her favourite restaurant. I knew Barbara was a widow when I hired her and that she is five years younger than me. Not only is she an amazing secretary she is also a very attractive lady, with, I now knew, a wonderful caring personality.

Thursday evening, I felt a terrible sadness, knowing my wife was in our bedroom dressing herself to spend the evening with another man. She had asked me if I wanted to watch but I gracefully declined, though I had seen the expensive-looking underwear laid out on the bed before I came downstairs.

Finally, she was coming down the stairs wearing a dress I had never seen before. She did a swirl in front of me. 'Well, how do I look?'

Her hair had been styled sometime during the day and she looked fabulous, far better than she had ever looked whenever I'd escorted her anywhere. 'You look wonderful. Where is he taking you?'

'I don't know. I was told his name is George, to wear a long dress and a taxi will collect me.'

'Well Joyce, I hope the money is worth it.' I doubt she caught my double meaning. Neither had she even hinted at an concern about how I was spending the evening.

Joyce turned abruptly at the knock on the front door. Before my wife left, she turned to me and kissed my cheek. 'Five hundred pounds. After agency commission,' she whispered before I got another kiss on my cheek. 'Don't wait up, darling. If I'm lucky, I may not be coming home tonight.'

When the door closed I felt terribly alone. Not only didn't I know anything about the man my wife was with, but I also had no idea where she was. For the first time, I stared at the real possibility of my life without Joyce.

Barbara was the first woman I had been to a restaurant with, without my wife, for a very long time. I liked her favourite restaurant, the dress she was wearing and the conversation we shared.

Joyce didn't come back that night and the next day when I got home, she was already getting dinner ready. As I had expected, she immediately came up to me, wrapped her arms around me and gave me a long kiss.

When I pushed her away, she looked surprised, but I'd spent most of the day preparing myself for what I knew would be a difficult talk with my wife, and I wanted to have it now before my determination was weakened by her kisses.

'Leave the dinner, Joyce. I need to talk to you,' I said as I walked into the lounge. To steady my nerve, I poured myself a whisky and a glass of wine for Joyce. She was still standing in the doorway, so I told her where to sit.

She looked worried. 'Darling, what's the matter, has something happened at work?'

That gave me my opening. 'No Joyce, nothing's happened at work. It's what's happening here that I want to talk about.' I sipped my whisky while getting my thoughts in order. 'This escort thing has got to stop, right now. You are my wife, I cannot and will not let you humiliate me any longer.' I'd never felt humiliated so don't know why I said it.

Joyce was on to it immediately. 'I have never humiliated you, no one but Cheryl knows anything about what I do. Unless you have told everyone at the laboratory,' she added very angrily.

For the first time I lied to my wife. 'Why would I tell the people I work with that my wife is a prostitute and an escort. It's me. I feel humiliated because my wife is spending her time with other men, giving them what is rightfully mine. I've had enough, Joyce, enough.'

Joyce tried to get on my lap so quickly I almost lost my whisky. 'No,' I told her. 'I don't want you on my lap, not till we finish this discussion.'

Once she was back in her chair she started on me. 'Darling, please, I've no intention of humiliating you, you haven't said anything about being humiliated when I was seeing men at the bungalow, so what's different in me being an escort?'

How does she always turn everything around? Once again, I realised that my wife was a far superior negotiator than I would ever be. I knew I was taking far too long to respond. 'I knew where you were,' was my lame reply.

'Oh, come on darling. What does it matter where I was. All we did was have a meal, go to the theatre and then back to his place. Just like when I spent a night at the bungalow.'

'That's what you should be doing with me, not with a total stranger. Have I now got to book an evening with you through your agency?' I was trying to show my anger. 'I suppose you spent all night fucking him?'

Joyce was now glaring at me. 'Yes, all night, if you must know. And you don't have to book me through the agency.'

My carefully thought arguments seemed to have disserted me. All because I said I was humiliated. Then Joyce suddenly stood up and fled into the kitchen, I guess something was getting overcooked. God, what a cliché that is, I thought as I poured myself another whisky.

I wanted to continue the discussion while we had dinner, but Joyce was more interested in telling me all the ways that being an escort was going to be much better for both of us.

"If the agency receives a good report from last night's gentleman then I should have another booking sometime next week,' It seemed that my humiliation argument was totally forgotten.

My wife did have another booking, for Wednesday evening. She was home at one-thirty. Then another for Saturday, this time she was not home until Sunday morning.

On both occasions, I took Barbara to my favourite restaurant. She charmed me each time with the dress, her smile, and her scintillating conversation.

On my return home on Saturday night I knew the lady whom I had dined with was becoming more important to me than the woman I was married to.

Several times during the week, I'd tried to put my argument to my wife about her giving other men what should only be for me, her husband. It seems my wife was far more tenacious in her viewpoint than I had ever realised.

My patience finally gave out on Friday, when she told me the agency had booked her to go to America with a professor who was giving a series of lectures. 'He's used the agency several times,' she told me as I sat in stunned silence. 'I've seen his resume and the comments of the other women he's been to America with. They all made very favourable comments about him.'

She stopped and looked at me for a moment. 'Well, can't you say something?'

'When are you going,' seemed the right thing to say.

'The taxi is collecting me at two on Sunday. I'll be back on Friday.'

'This professor, how old is he?'

'He's fifty-nine, lost his wife eight years ago.'

There didn't seem to be much else to say. My wife seemed to take that as my agreement. The result was that when we went to bed, my wife gave my cock a nice long sucking. When we kissed and her tongue was in my mouth I still didn't like the stud. I did like how it felt when my cock was in her mouth. I fucked her in the ass first. Entry was now so easy, my engorged cock just slid in, right up to the hilt. As I expected, she became very vocal. Perhaps forgetting it was her husband fucking her ass, she expressed herself quite profanely, something I was now quite used to. After her two orgasm's I released my ejaculation with considerable pleasure.

As expected, she used a damp tissue before resuming the cock sucking. She was now much quicker at restoring my virility. Not because I used the little blue pill, just her greatly improved technique. I suppose I should be grateful to all her gentlemen for that.

My wife was still a very beautiful woman. Despite the spread of middle age and the softening of her breasts, everything about her seemed to enhance her sexual desirability as she lay on her back with her knees raised in anticipation.

She held her arms out toward me. 'Come here big man, came and reclaim you, wife, I need you, beautiful cock in my cunt.'

I lowered myself into her embrace and her kisses. Her hand searched for me. 'Fuck me, darling, fuck me hard.' Her searching hand found me and guided my cock to her hot, juicy, hairless cunt. As I slid into her, I imagined all the other men's cocks who had already been there.

'Oh God, yes, yes, yes. That's it darling, push your cock right into my cunt. It's all yours darling. Oh God yes, fuck me, fuck me,' she chanted over and over again as I drove into her, over and over again.

Orgasm's seemed to pour out of her. Eventually exhausted, I finally grunted loudly with the satisfaction of releasing my cum deep into her shared cunt.

On Tuesday I had a discussion with the company lawyer. On Thursday I spent an hour with the divorce lawyer he recommended.

On Friday evening, we had settled in front of the television. 'Joyce, are you still going to America with the professor, next week?'

'Yes, you know I am, darling.'

'Well, there is something you should know. If you go to America with the professor, when you return all your things will have been moved to the bungalow.'

In the total silence that followed my statement, Joyce stared at me. 'What did you say?' a moment late I saw the realisation of what I had just told her finally register. 'You'll do what with my things?'

'Move them to the bungalow,'

'Why, I'm only going to escort him for five days.'

'Joyce, I love you, but I cannot live like this anymore.' I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. What I was about to say could see the end of my marriage. 'For six months, Joyce, I've put up with your obsession about prostituting yourself, first in the afternoon, then all day, then in the evenings, then all night, now it's for a whole week. You are my wife and it ends now.' I then spoke very slowly. "I will not share you anymore.'

The look on my wife's face was pure shock. Well, I had just told her something totally unexpected.

'I, I, I can't stop now. There's not enough time to cancel, you should have told me earlier.' My wife looked desperate. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?'

'I had things to do, decisions to make. I needed some professional advice. Joyce, this is final as far as I am concerned. If you go to America I will be divorcing you.' I hadn't meant to tell her that. Now I'd pushed her into a corner.

'Oh my God,' Finally my wife got it. 'Stan you, you can't divorce me, I love you, we've been married for twenty-five years. Please, Stan, I'll stop after this one, I promise.'

I know she phoned the agency. There wasn't enough time to cancel, she told me. 'When I come back, I'll never have sex with another man.' She made that promised to me several times.

Unfortunately for Joyce, I didn't believe her.

Two o'clock on Sunday I stood at the open door, almost in tears, as I watched the taxi carry my wife away from me. I'd told her again where her things would be when she got back. Her last words had been a promise to stop seeing any more men after this one.

Fighting my emotions, I closed the door slowly behind me. I was resentful that my wife had finally forced me to make these decisions. During the week I'd have to move all my wife's things to the bungalow, where the divorce papers would be served on her when she returned.

Barbara had insisted that I spend the evening at her flat in town. 'I will not let you stay in that house on your own,' she told me. Something my wife had been totally unconcerned about.