The Trophy Wives Ch. 01

The Trophy Wives

Chapter One.

Charlotte and Nigel climbed out of the Bentley under the portico of the hotel as their rather fat chauffeur Ronald held the door open for her. His reward was a perfect view up Charlotte's short dress and her sheer panties, leaving no doubt at all that she waxed. Charlotte had often caught Ronald's eyes drifting to the vee of her thighs as she got out of the car. Nigel came around the car and gave the chauffeur 20 pounds for which the chauffeur gave his suitably obsequious thanks.

They had been to one of the best restaurants in town for a gourmet meal and few glasses of a frightfully expensive Bordeaux. The visit was marred only by the roadworks in front of the restaurant, forcing Ronald to park at the side of the building, not merely depriving them of being properly seen making their entrance by the various paparazzi, but also exposing them to the affront of seeing a homeless beggar, who had even dared ask for money.

"Go away!" Nigel shouted. "People like you should be imprisoned or put away somewhere! Why don't you work for your living you idle scum?"

Charlotte thought that was a bit rich coming from Nigel who had never worked a day in his life. Nigel had inherited. He was a product of the best schools before a passage at a good university. A passage smoothed by enough donations to give him a very honourable diploma. Then he had inherited. He was fabulously rich and the only thing Nigel had done to deserve that was be born.

Charlotte was his trophy wife. She was beautiful, natural blonde, slim, toned, with just the right breasts and ass. She knew she was a trophy wife, eye-candy to be shown off to others of equal rank. She dressed rather whorishly. Very-expensive-whorishly as was the wish of her husband Nigel. Many of her friends were trophy wives too, because that was what you found in the circles they moved in. Charlotte was treated liked a whore by Nigel. A whore on a retainer Charlotte thought. No salary as such but food and high class lodgings included, all-found in fact. A whore in a gilded cage. She was quite lucid that these days she only stayed for the lavish lifestyle, making herself effectively a whore.

Oh there was romance at first and even a fairy-tale romance, but little by little his pretence at love had slipped. Nowadays he would come back from a "business trip" that Charlotte thought was more a playboy trip and just push her on the bed and fuck her. No kisses, no foreplay. Marital rape. She had spent many hours crying over the soured romance, but now had reached a certain degree of numbness. She decided she no longer felt anything. Except maybe mad at him. Or horny. She certainly felt horny. She wasn't getting any real sex from Nigel and her fantasies were beginning to run to extremes.

Her husband came out of the bathroom and Charlotte went in. She quickly showered, dried herself and hurriedly applied lube to her pussy and ass. She knew there would be no attempt to make her ready and so took her precautions.

Rightly so; as soon as she appeared in the bedroom, Nigel pushed her face down on the bed and simply thrust his erect cock in her ass. She cried out, but the lube saved her from real pain.

Charlotte came. Her face buried in the bedclothes, hiding how flushed her cheeks were. Her husband's trickling cum that dripped from her anus to cover her pussy hid how wet she had become. Charlotte came silently, her shoulders shaking as Nigel said:

"I must thank Phillip for loosening you up Charlotte old girl you were too damn tight before. Haha - I'll tell him you asked me to thank him!"

Rather than the penetration, it was the wave of humiliation that made her cum and it wasn't the first time humiliation had had that effect on her: A few weeks ago Nigel had invited two drunken friends to their suite - one of the them her best friend's husband, Phillip - made her strip naked and spread her own cheeks apart to expose herself to them, then Nigel had held her face down bent over the pool table while his drunken friends had fucked her. Fucked both her holes. Charlotte had hated the pain as her anus was abused, but had felt strangely aroused by the humiliation of it. The humiliation of men in their social circle being allowed to not only see and closely examine her most intimate places, but to fuck them, to use them as masturbation aids, to use her to empty their cum. She had cum herself, there on the pool table in spite of the roughness and the men laughed and seemed to think they were amazing lovers.

The next day, Nigel left on one of his business trips and told Charlotte he would be back in five days, in time for a dinner party at lord Grove's house in Mayfair.

Charlotte had a lay-in, then got up and showered, dressed and breakfasted then left to have coffee with her best friend and fellow trophy wife Catherine.

Catherine and Charlotte met in a trendy bistro and had cappuccinos and a croissant each, then at Charlotte's suggestion they crossed the street and walked together arm in arm in the park, enjoying the warm spring weather.

"Catherine darling," said Charlotte, "Nigel made me fuck your husband and another drunken oik from their schooldays." She felt Catherine's grip tighten on her arm. Both knew that their husbands would use them as eye-candy in social get-togthers and they knew they might be used as pretty inducement in a business deal.

"I'm not angry at you sweetheart, I know exactly what they're like, but please tell me all." Ordered Catherine, so Charlotte did, blushing and feeling warm when, after a short pause Catherine said: "You came didn't you, you little slut! I'm keeping that information for future reference and possibly blackmail!"

"Well I get no real sex from Nigel any more and I'm so horny I found myself grinding against the corner of the dining table. Hell even the doorknobs are beginning to look like potential lovers."

The two women were quiet for a few moments then started to giggle together and ended up hugging each other tightly.

As they hugged, Charlotte whispered in Catherine's ear that she started getting moist when Catherine had called her a slut and Catherine had laughed and said that anything Charlotte said would be carefully noted and used to embarrass her.

"This is unfair! What can I use to embarrass you?" Asked Charlotte.

"Well in the strictest confidence" Catherine grinned, "or I will kill you, I fantasize about slumming for sex.

"What, you mean have sex with the plumber or something like that?"

"Oh lord no, much slummier than that! I get turned on by the thought of dirty sex. The dirtier the better like outside a strip club or a building site."

"Oh my god and you called me a slut!"

"Seriously though," said Catherine as they said goodbye at Charlotte's car, "I can't see it ever happening, but I do cum so hard when I think about it and play with myself. Bye darling, do tell your chauffeur he didn't hear that!" The very fat black chauffeur, Ronald's face was impassive as if he never heard a thing.

Charlotte had barely exaggerated how horny she felt. At first it had been easy to push to one side, then, well it was easy to masturbate and that had been enough at first. Now, though, although she made herself cum, she didn't seem to be satisfied. If anything she felt angry She was very attractive and at thirty-five in her sexual prime with a near-perfect body. And she was humping the doorknobs. Well, nearly anyway.

A day later Charlotte phoned Catherine and invited her for drinks. Catherine arrived, laid herself down on a leather sofa and accepted a glass of Prosecco. Charlotte poured herself a glass, placed the bottle on the coffee table between them and lounged at the other end of the sofa, like Catherine, bare feet drawn up.

"I am bored out of my tiny skull with not getting any sex, while Phillip is off with your husband on these fictive business trips to fuck god knows what kind of escort girl or girlfriend or whores, leaving us behind with mere frustration to keep us satisfied." Said Catherine bitterly. "It makes me want to take revenge!"

"Funny you should say that, I've been thinking the same thing." Charlotte told her. "I know our situation with them, but a minimum of respect would be nice. I want a lover. I want sex. I want hard, mindless sex. The trouble is though, if they kick us out and divorce us we are both penniless. I may have a solution to that though.

Charlotte woke with an itchy sensation in her ass and with the help of a mirror found she had a discharge. She visited a doctor a few hours later who gave her a shot of an antibiotic and told her to contact anyone with whom she had had sex. She contacted Catherine and sent her to the same doctor, where Catherine was also treated.

The two women had coffee together.

"Bastards, Fucking bastards! Fucking cheating bastards!" Charlotte fumed. "I want revenge, I want them to realise that we can play games too." Catherine agreed, just as angry as Charlotte was.

The two women spent the next few days planning their revenge and Charlotte logged into one of her husband's bank accounts. Before being the trophy wife she was, she had got a master's degree in computer and web programming. She had been good at it and had been very good at it the day her Nigel had gone to bed drunk and left his laptop unlocked. It only took her a few minutes to install a backdoor and keylogger.

She had all Nigel's codes and knew all his sites and banks and after a half-hour's thought she sent a carefully worded message from one bank, through several others until the message was logged in to a bank in the Caiman islands. The message contained all the right code words, the reply was sent and Charlotte sent back the PIN number which confirmed the transfer. Half a billion in bearer bonds were moved in several lots to five other banks with no name, only numbers. The same day they were transferred again through yet another financial maze.

Their "insurance" in case of sudden divorce in place, safely in Charlotte's bank accounts, Catherine and Charlotte talked over their plans. Very quickly the idea of having lots of extramarital sex was put on the list and soon after that Catherine asked what if we gave them an STD in return?

"God that's so dirty,," said Charlotte.

"You know I get off on the idea of slumming, don't you?" Catherine replied. "Imagine their faces if while they were home we showed them videos of us fucking strangers in the parking lot of the strip club?"

"Oh my fucking god!" Spluttered Charlotte you would really do that? Oh yes Catherine said with a lewd smile and what if I also took you there and "made" you undress and masturbate for them and told them they could do anything they liked to you because once you were horny you didn't have limits."

Charlotte felt a sudden trickle of her own wetness at the thought of being humiliated that way and also felt Catherine's foot probing between her thighs, her toes rubbing the soaked gusset of her panties.

"I need to cum so badly," gasped Catherine. "Have you ever done it with a woman Charlotte? Or will this be your first time?" She didn't wait for an answer but correctly read the flush of arousal on Charlotte's face as she pulled her soaked panties off and rubbed them on her nose, making Charlotte blush brightly - and bite her lower lip as she watched, fascinated. Catherine stripped her naked, then undressed herself. She laid Charlotte out flat on her back on the leather sofa and kneaded her tits and nipples gently at first but slowly getting more intense. She sucked Charlotte's nipples slowly sucking harder, until she was stretching them out by clamping her teeth on them and rearing back with her head. She sucked a nipple into her mouth and bit. Hard. Charlotte screamed and came, her body shuddering from the power of the orgasm.

"Ask me to bite the other nipple," said Catherine.

"No, please, no it hurts!" Gasped Charlotte.

"Look how hard your slutty nipple is you little whore! You may not want to have it bitten, but your nipple wants it - look how hard it's standing up, begging for my teeth!"

Charlotte panted and squirmed, she was on the edge of another orgasm and Catherine's words had made her pussy gush wetness. I am a whore she thought as she took a deep breath.

"Bite my nipple Catherine"

"That wasn't very polite little slut. Ask me properly and tell me you want it bitten hard.

Charlotte's pussy clenched at the word "slut" her body was shuddering at the edge of orgasm, her lips parted:

"Please Catherine, please bite my nipple. Bite it hard."

Catherine bit. Hard. Charlotte shrieked at the painful bite and shrieked louder as she came, her body shaking under Catherine like a gaffed fish as the throes washed over her. When her orgasm subsided to mere tremors, Catherine moved up her body and squatted over Charlotte's mouth. She ground her dark pucker against Charlotte's lips.

"Come on slut, get your tongue busy in my asshole. I want it cleaned by your tongue, and then I'm going to facefuck those pretty lips of yours. She reached behind her to pinch Charlotte's nipples until she felt the lapping tongue licking and trying to wriggle into her hole. Catherine moaned. This was seriously turning her on.

Charlotte at first tried not to gag, but then her arousal washed over her inhibitions and she licked and sucked Catherine's hole, even enjoying the pinching fingers on her nipples, and surprising herself by liking the taste of Catherine's bum hole.

Catherine moved a bit higher and ground her soaked hungry cunt into her friend's mouth, Charlotte kept licking and sucking, drinking in all the juices that trickled from Catherine's pussy, she tried to hold her tongue rigid for Catherine to rub her swollen clit against and as Catherine finally went into a frenzy of thrusting at her mouth realised proudly that she would have bruised lips tomorrow. Her friend screamed as she came, rewarding Charlotte with another flood of Catherine's hot cum. They moved to the bed and held each other for a long time before showering together, then sleeping wrapped in each other's arms.

As the two women had surmised, their respective husbands didn't say a word about the gonorrhoea infection, simply continuing their free and easy playboy life. Ten days later Nigel and Phillip told their respective wives they would be away for ten days on business.

Charlotte and Catherine called each other and agreed that tonight was the night to put their plan into action. Charlotte and Catherine both dressed in fairly short cocktail dresses showing enough cleavage to draw the gaze of any man. Braless, each wore only a thong beneath the dress. They met for drinks first at a big classic hotel near their destination. They were both breathlessly nervous and both on the brink of dropping the whole thing. Even so they sat on bar stools which revealed their long smooth legs. They had two cocktails and were on their third when Martin, another friend of Nigel's saw them and came over. When Catherine went to the ladies room Martin leaned in close to Charlotte with a leer on his face and whispered:

"Phillip said he had a nightcap with you and Nigel and said he really enjoyed" - he looked her up and down slowly - "the relaxation." His fingers caressed her exposed thigh.

Charlotte blushed, hidden thankfully by the low lights of the hotel bar, and felt her treacherous pussy growing moist. She said in an icy tone:

"I think Phillip drank quite a lot of relaxation. It probably affected his memory!"

"Oh I think he remembers quite well. Anyway I'll ask Nigel what he remembers. Maybe he'll invite me for a nightcap."He left, leaving Charlotte thinking how she'd like him to catch an STD. Well girl, she told herself, it looks like your husband is already destroying your reputation all by himself.

When Catherine came back, Charlotte told her what Martin had said and how she was in equal proportions pissed off and aroused and one more cocktail would be enough. Catherine realised that Martin was just repeating almost common knowledge that Charlotte had been used by, amongst others, her own husband, Phillip. They finished their drinks and Catherine said:

"It's high time we brought them down a peg or two. If they're going to ruin our reputations, well, we may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb."

The sleazy districts of cities is always close to the expensive hotels, usually more or less hidden behind them in fact. In London, behind the grace and majesty of the the grand hotels, Soho extends it's mixture of theatres and strip clubs. Charlotte and Catherine walked, not quite unsteadily, on their high-heeled shoes to this quarter where there was a mixture of theatre-goers and, in the darker little streets, whores leaning against the walls, as much of their wares as legally possible on display for the other people walking there, those who were seeking easy sex. The streets are narrow and hard to access by car, but Catherine led them to a strip club which had it's own car park behind the garish neon of the façade of the building.

The doorman welcomed them in and a waiter took them to a booth near the stage where a woman was slowly stripping for an audience of men, who were laughing, whistling, stuffing money as tips into tiny thongs or bras that were for displaying breasts, rather than hiding them. Their drinks came.

"On the house, love. For two lovely ladies." The waiter told them.

The two women watched the show and two strippers danced up close to them on their low stage, smiled at the generous tips Catherine and Charlotte stuffed into the front of their thongs, then danced away again, leaning down to the spectators to be "helped" out of their bras, letting the men fondle their tits briefly. Another strutting tour of the stage, where they emptied the banknotes from their thongs, then they danced back to Charlotte and Catherine and guided their hands to the sides of their thongs and the two friends pulled the thongs down slowly as the stripper gyrated. The two glanced at each other, then leaned in to kiss each stripper on her mound to roars of approval from the men.

Catherine raised her glass to Charlotte and whispered:

"Before our glasses are empty we'll have men surrounding us wanting to buy us another - and a good thing too - I need more booze to do this!" Her prediction was right: They had a little group of hopefuls around them, buying them drinks and flirting with them. Several of the men said you're much better looking than the women on stage and would they be stripping?

"Maybe" Charlotte teased, "Who knows what we'll do with enough of these drinks inside us!" After a few more drinks, which the men fell over themselves to buy, the women were quite drunk, glancing at each other and knowing they were drunk enough. They stood, ready to leave, which caused a flurry of last-ditch attempts to seduce them and several asked where they were going next. The reply caused a momentary silence amongst the twelve men that were now surrounding them:

"We're going to the car park behind this place and we're going to test how comfortable each car is to be fucked against." The men could hardly believe it, but then there was a scramble to get their coats and the two women left with all twelve men escorting them.

"Ready for a striptease gentlemen? Asked Catherine.

"Without the tease!" One wag replied. "We've been teased enough already!"

"Charlotte dear - oh by the way gentlemen, this is Charlotte and she's not a harlot, but she is a slut aren't you Charlotte?"

Charlotte felt an instant trickle as Catherine told these men that she was a slut. The trickle became a flood when Catherine said:

"Why don't you strip like the man suggested darling?"

She did, with no teasing, just slowly and methodically took off her mini skirt, then her blouse, her bra, noting how her nipples were engorged and felt hard as little rocks, then she looked at the fascinated men, blushing as she slid her thong to the floor and stood there, dressed only in gold lamé heels.