4 comments/ 56816 views/ 22 favorites My Wife, the Pussy Flasher By: Magicidan The following is based on actual events that took place not long after King Richard I (Daley) died suddenly in December of 1976 without leaving a successor. With the iron fist of the Boss gone rival factions in the City Counsel battled for control of Chicago. This was an era when a wise bar owner cultivated a relationship with his alderman as well as the desk sergeant at the local stationhouse. Rodinos Restaurant did both and thrived. I know because I was there. Don't bother looking for the restaurant; even though it's long gone I changed the name because I still run into some of the old timers who might not appreciate me telling tales out of school. All characters were of legal age when this took place. Chapter I When we were newlyweds without a lot of money my wife and I would play a game called Dress Up. Karen would show up at Rodinos for our date dressed, make that barely dressed, like one of the prostitutes that frequented the bar. Her natural blonde hair and heavy makeup were always perfect. Quite simply, she was the most beautiful woman there. I would be sitting where I could watch the patron's reactions as she entered the lounge. Conversations would abruptly stop and heads snap as she walked the length of the bar, her heels clicking on the polished hardwood floor. Karen would walk slowly, pausing occasionally, as though looking for someone before taking a seat on a stool in the corner, directly across the room from me. She would turn and face away from the bar. I couldn't see but I knew she would cross her legs high, allowing her short skirt to creep up enough that every man there knew she was wearing nylons and garters on her long legs. She would allow her jacket to open just enough to allow a glimpse of the wonders which lie within. It never took more than a few seconds before a man, or men, would offer to buy her a drink. Often times there were heated debates over who would be allowed the privilege. More than once the bouncers had to break things up when it became physical. She would tell the victor she was waiting for her date but wouldn't mind his company until he arrived...if only to keep the lounge lechers from preying on her. Karen would reward him for the drink by discretely opening her blazer and flashing her damn near naked breasts which were riding proud on a chopper bra under a see through blouse. A second drink would be rewarded with spread of her legs and a subtle flash of pink meat. When her new friend started making suggestions she would nonchalantly let it slip that she was a hired escort and her time had already been purchased for the evening. After the third drink Karen would forgot to put her knees back together and casually pull her skirt up until the white flesh above the tops of her stockings was fully visible. She would pause, then slide the skirt up until she was fully exposed. Karen would tease him until he made a move for her naked pussy. That's when my wife would shut him down by saying unless he paid for the privilege she was a SFANF girl, So Far And No Farther, while he stared at her cleanly shaved pussy. It was the rare man who didn't tear his wallet out and stuff a few bills into her jacket pocket. Karen would turn into a vamp, kissing him as though they were long time lovers, while he reached inside her jacket to fondle her breasts. Again I couldn't see it happen but the smile on her face said his hands were working their way up her inner thighs. I would watch her expression get very serious when the man's fingers had reached her hot, wet cunt. She would close her eyes and roll her head from side to side as they played with her lips then slid their fingers inside her firebox. The owner, Vince, used to walk over, buy me a shot, and say something classy, like "Your wife's cunt is solid gold" as we watched Karen getting molested. "Watching her is real good for business." I always got a screaming hard on watching my wife performing for me and was often tempted not to intervene. But our game had rules and I knew that was as far as we agreed my beautiful bride would go. So I would show up and place my hand on her shoulder. Karen would glance back and announce my "client is here." You could see her wanna-be fucker crestfallen and quite a few attempted to negotiate with me, their fingers still deep in her tight cunt, to reimburse me for her company for the evening. I turned down some very attractive offers of cash from men wanting to have sex with my wife. Karen was ever the entrepreneur. If the guy looked like he was prepared to spend some real money she would signal one of Vince's prostitutes over to complete what she had started. They would disappear into one of the back rooms and transact their business. The girls liked Karen because she never asked for a cut for warming up their client. Once we were seated it was my fingers that laid claim to my wife's sloppy cunt while she counted the wad of cash she had earned. She never earned less than fifty bucks. Chapter II I thought we had life by the balls. That all ended the day Karen, my wife of ten years, was offered a promotion from upper middle management to lower upper management. Honest, I'm not making that up, that's what they call the rungs on their corporate ladder. Karen would be the first female executive in the company's forty year history. As was tradition, she would receive a bonus, a company car, and a generous clothing allowance. The dress code was simple, conservative suits at all times. There were no casual Fridays in the ivory tower. It was like a 1950's black and white sitcom. Unfortunately her new job would mean relocating from our 32nd floor Mag Mile condominium to what I was assured was a very nice rental house in a suburb just outside of Phoenix, Arizona. This tested our marriage like nothing before. I kept pointing out they were making her the token woman only because the company was fighting for a government contract and was shy on their quotas. She argued with equal emotion that she was the most qualified and had earned the promotion. The battle raged on for over a week before Karen finally wore me down and I acquiesced. That meant I would have to walk away from the fifteen years I had invested in my career, developing a network of contacts which made me the highest paid sales rep at the company. Unfortunately the company did not have a southwest office so I would have to start over from scratch somewhere else. The last thing my boss said to me was, "When you get tired of snakes, sand, and 100 degrees in the shade your job will always be waiting." With unemployment creeping up to 10% there weren't a lot of high tech companies hiring sales representatives. After wasting untold hours scouring the internet and making phone calls I contracted with an executive search firm in a futile attempt to find suitable employment. Everyone in Arizona agreed; I had too much experience for an entry level job but no local network that would allow me to operate at my Chicago level. Basically, I was unemployable. To make things even worse we were getting slaughtered by selling our condo at the height of Obama's Great Recession. $200,000 would vanish with one stroke of the pen. We were hitting all of our favorite restaurants on a farewell tour; tonight would be the last stop. To be honest I had not been very good company and silently moped my way through the meals. Even gourmet food tasted like bile in my mouth. Tonight we had reservations for a booth at Rodinos, a dicey, darkly lit, Italian restaurant just north of downtown that we went to on our first date. Later that evening I learned Karen picked that particular restaurant because she worked there part time as a lingerie model while attending college. How she dressed was a test to see if I was a voyeur who would be aroused by her flaunting her body or an offended Puritan. If I was the latter the bouncers were standing by to make me go away. It didn't take a very perceptive person to know tonight would not have a magical ending like it did after our first visit. Instead, after several sleepless nights I decided to end it where it began and tell my wife to go to Phoenix without me; I quit the marriage. Earlier in the day I visited a divorce lawyer and had him write out a proposed Separation Agreement and a distribution of assets. To tell the truth I really didn't give a shit and said she could take anything she wanted because I just wanted it over. I wasn't going to be dragged into the middle of the desert so my wife could become a quota queen. At a few minutes after six Karen texted me that she was having a drink at the bar. When I arrived twenty minutes later the lounge was crowded, mostly with men standing alone nursing a beer while watching the Cubs blow another game. There were, however, a couple of men in suits hovering over a blonde in black at the far end of the lounge. Their backs were to me and at first I thought they were with one of the working girls; somehow I knew my wife was the center of the predator's attention. I debated breaking it up but elected instead to have Jan, the hostess, seat me in a private corner booth. I ordered a vodka gimlet, double, and watched Jan's hot ass grind as she walked to the bar to place my order. Before returning I saw her whisper something in Karen's ear and point in my direction. My wife didn't turn but continued playing with her new toys. I ignored the show, instead letting my mind wander back to our first night together when Karen admitted she had always been an exhibitionist and enjoyed the attention. She began by flashing her innocent white panties to her brother Bill. When looking up her skirt at her underwear became old hat Karen stopped wearing them altogether and began accidentally flashing her naked pussy at him. She quickly had his undivided attention. Soon she stopped wearing her bra and expanded her repertoire to include exposing all of her girl parts to her Bill. Karen was very proud of her breasts and they enjoyed being placed on exhibition. Despite his pleadings she managed, for the most part, to maintain a look all you want but don't touch policy. Karen has what Bill nicknamed ice cream sundae breasts. When stimulated, the large aureoles swelled like crimson mounds on the top of her breasts, almost doubling their size. Her bright red nipples jutted out almost ¾ inch when erect, magnifying her arousal. Bill said when she laid on her back they looked like a huge scoop of vanilla with a nice sized scoop of strawberry ice cream on top, and her bright red nipples looked like a pair of maraschino cherries, hence the nickname. Karen had no trouble attracting boyfriends but keeping them was another thing as she was soon flashing her pussy to their friends. More than one pair of best friends ended up slugging it out over ownership rights of her pink meat. Ironically, the new boyfriends didn't stick around too long when they found out Karen wasn't a slut; she was that strange one-in-a-million woman who got sexually satisfied from exposing herself without automatically needing a cock to cum in her. She would have baffled Sigmund Freud. Karen couldn't see the value in staying in school and dropped out the day she came of age. Her parents gave her ninety days to get a full time job and her own apartment or they would throw her out. From day one she went commando at her job as a cashier in the mall. She would flash strangers on the bus ride to and from work. Word spreads quickly when a beautiful female co-worker is naked under her short skirt and Karen drew a crowd, make that a male crowd, whenever she bent over or sat down. Too much attention is as bad as too little for an exhibitionist and the matronly store manager fired her after a stern lecture on how a lady does not let young men see her private parts. Karen quickly learned that being discrete in her flashing was even more exhilarating than just sitting on a chair with her legs spread. The thrill of the hunt was how she described it. She also learned older men, particularly bosses, were much more generous when a smoking hot eighteen year old exposed herself for him. That was how she met Vince, the owner of Rodinos Restaurant. She was sitting on a bench waiting for the bus with her legs spread to passing traffic when a cherry red Corvette pulled up; he told her to get in. Before they had driven a mile Vince had offered her a job as a high fashion model. Before they had driven two miles her blouse was off and his cock buried deep in her mouth. She swallowed and he paid her $100. Vince's cock became a regular visitor to her mouth. But Vince was a funny guy in that he would pay Karen a hundred bucks to suck his dick but wouldn't fuck her because he was married. Later that night, wearing a sheer white blouse over a g string and chopper bra, neither of which hid anything, she had her inaugural night as Rodinos' newest lingerie model. The models earned their money two ways, earning tips and selling raffle tickets to win articles of clothing. Karen worked hard to earn tips because they had to split the raffle money with the house. The customers also liked tipping because they could stuff it into the young ladies costume with most electing to slip it into their panties. Vince, never Vinny, worked real hard to cultivate an aura that he had underworld connections. There was little question that his restaurant was a hang-out for Chicago machine politicians, high ranking cops, and men who looked like they were hoods. Or that getting invited to Vince's monthly poker game was like wrangling an invitation to go fishing with the Pope. If Vince liked you he treated you like family. If you crossed him, however, you would be wise not to come around again. Vince liked Karen right from the start and ended up becoming her mentor, loaning her the money to buy a car, finding an apartment close to the restaurant, and encouraging her to get her GED. When she balked at returning to school he said, "If you want to become a prostitute, I'll make you one. But you can do a lot better than that." Soon Karen was promoted to assistant manager. Vince made sure that his employees knew that even though Karen was his personal cock sucker she had earned the promotion. Through this all Karen continued to strut her stuff in the weekly fashion show as well as servicing Vince. After flunking every class during her senior year it took eighteen months of studying and hard work to earn her high school equivalency diploma. With Vince's urging and support she enrolled as an economics major at the University of Illinois that fall where she maintained a perfect 4.0 Grade Point Average. I'm sure her econ professor's would have split their pants if they knew how the sweet looking straight "A" co-ed earned her tuition. Oddly enough when I met Karen she was sitting all prim and proper in fluffy powder green dress swept the floor without revealing a hint of the wonders that lie beneath. She was a bridesmaid at her brother's wedding and I was a solo guest at the reception. I played on the same softball team as Bill, hence the invite. It became very obvious that quite an effort was being made to pair me up with Karen. I had heard a few stories about Bill's wild sister and was eager to get to know her better. I danced with her all night and, when the band called it quits, offered to drive her home. She blew me off with, "I've got my own car and I'm sober enough to use it." "When can I see you again?" "Next Friday...meet me for drinks at Rodinos." I was familiar with this restaurant's reputation as a place where married men took married women who were not their wife. It also made the news whenever some morality crusader would demand the police to do a prostitution sweep and arrest the Johns and working girls alike. This was not likely to happen as Vince had an almost incestuous relationship with the Chicago Police Department. Add in an assortment of denizens of the city's underbelly worthy of a Mike Hammer novel and scantily clad lingerie models during Happy Hour, and, well you get the picture. But I didn't question her selection. "Six sharp. I don't like to be kept waiting." She gave me a cursory kiss and left me standing all alone in the middle of the dance floor. That Friday everything went wrong and I didn't make it to the restaurant until just before seven. When my day began to fall apart I wanted to call and cancel but didn't have her cell phone number. I tried calling Bill to get her number but, surprise, he didn't answer on his honeymoon. I didn't expect her to be there as I scanned the bar. It looked like everyone was paired up however at the far end there was a blonde in a black dress entertaining four casually dressed men. They looked like suburban dads who had spent the day at Wrigley Field and were trying to score on their trip to the big city. She was facing away from me so I couldn't see her face but I could see her zipper was open; she wasn't wearing a bra. Figuring I had nothing to lose I walked towards the end of the bar to see if she was my date. When I got close I could hear the woman laughing and watched the men high fiving each other. They were circled around her screening their actions from the restaurant but I could glimpse between two of the men that her dress was pulled up around her waist and her naked ass was visible. The front of her dress sagged forward and I could see her naked breasts were high and firm. I took a space at the bar next to them and watched the men taking turns running their hands up her dress. I ordered a drink and watched in rapt awe as this wanton woman allowed four men full access to her pussy. Based on what Bill had told me this had to be Karen. Sure enough, a couple of minutes later she turned and recognized me. "Roger," she shouted. "It's about damn time you got here." "Who the fuck is he?" One demanded. "Sorry boys. I told you I was already hired for the evening." She glared at me, "And don't think you're getting a refund for the hour you didn't use." I shrugged my shoulders and said, "It's only money." Man, the looks I got would send a shiver up a corpse's spine. I took Karen's hand to help her off the barstool. She stood, adjusted her garters, and pulled the back of her dress down. She didn't bother with the zipper. I let her walk ahead of me so we wouldn't be followed and watched the bottom couple inches of her ass crack smiling through a nice long slit up the back of the shimmering dress. Karen caught me staring and asked, "Like the view?" I could hear the four men using some very colorful language as they complained about me stealing their entertainment. Karen noticed me glancing back at the bar and said. "Don't worry, they won't bother us...slutty blondes are good for business. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a very large bouncer inviting the Cubs fans to take their erections home to their wives. Karen hiked her skirt up as she slid into the booth exposing all of her maidenly charms. As soon as we settled she began rubbing my cock through my pants. I accepted the invitation and placed my hand on her thigh. The scent of sex was strong and her stockings were soaked. I ran my hand up to her pussy and easily slid two fingers in. "Go gentle," she asked, "They were a little rough down there." She was so wet I wondered if she had already been fucked. I decided I didn't care. A young lady dressed in a sheer, bright red baby doll came over to our table and greeted Karen with a full mouth kiss. I was amazed at how sheer her outfit was. I could see every freckle on her breasts. Karen saw the look on my face and asked, "Did I mention I worked my way through college as a model in the fashion show?" She told me she was thrilled to see me in the bar because she had never had sex with four men before. She started teasing them figuring I would be along before things go out of hand. As a rule she never let that many men touch her as intimately as the men tonight but once one had his fingers in her pussy the other three just took access for granted. She then got passed from man to man as they competed to see who could make her cum the quickest. I showed up after her second orgasm, which was the reason for the high fives. Then she leveled with me that the bouncers would never have let the quartet do anything she didn't want them to do. My Wife, the Pussy Flasher Karen said she liked working at Rodinos because she could do damn near anything and be ignored by everyone but the tourists. The food wasn't half bad either. We talked until last call when I offered to drive her home. I was captivated by this sensuous creature and almost jumped up and screamed "halleluiah" when she said yes. We fucked like rabbits until we collapsed in each others arms early the next morning. When we woke up we fucked some more. Eventually we got hungry and while Karen pulled together something to eat we had quite an enlightening conversation regarding her exhibitionism. After quite a bit of initial skepticism I admitted I became incredibly aroused watching my date toy with strange men She assured me that despite wanting to continue making her privates very public she was a one man at a time woman. I asked to be that man. Three weeks later Karen moved in with me. Three months later we were married...we left the phrase, 'forsaking all others' out of Karen's wedding vows because Karen intended to continue sucking Vince's cock because he had always been so good to her. But I digress; I quickly learned it was an art the subtle way Karen would move her skirt to maximize exposed leg. Then, when she had her mark's attention riveted, she would offer him a glimpse of her smoothly shaved pussy in exchange for what she wanted. Karen bragged that she never had to pay either for a pair of shoes or a drink. Karen would innocently tell the clerk that she had forgot her wallet and spread her legs to pay for her purchase. Chapter III Karen told me about her idea of playing Dress Up but wanted to try it somewhere a little fancier than Rodinos. However, after her encounter with the four horny men was a little nervous about carrying it out without a backup to make sure she didn't get raped in the ladies room. The first time we went on the road playing I selected an excellent Michigan Avenue restaurant which had a large bar that attracted out-of-town businessmen. Karen arrived alone and took a seat at the bar. She looked like an angel, all in white. She had on a short, diaphanous, white dress that clung to her tight body. It was very obvious that the only thing she had on under it was a white garter belt and stockings. A pair of white high heels completed her hunting outfit. It took about less than a minute for a very well dressed man to sit down next to her and begin chatting her up. Being cautious Karen was a bit evasive when he came right out and asked if she was a prostitute. After satisfying herself that he wasn't a cop, just a salesman in town for a meeting with a customer, she laughed and said she was also in town for meeting with a customer. He laughed and said, "I hope my customer doesn't screw me as hard as yours will you." Karen immediately liked Ron and said, for a drink, he could have some fun with her until he arrived. Since the bar was so bright and crowded she had to be discrete but he still managed to get his hands up her short skirt. I let her tease him for about twenty minutes before I showed up. Everything went so well, except I guess for the rube with blueballs, that we tried it again the following Friday night. I would get downtown early and scout a lounge which would work for our game. Karen would go straight home after work, change, and take a taxi dressed for the night. She became very adept at trading a nice view for a free cab ride. I developed a masturbation fantasy where a vice cop would overhear her soliciting me and arrested both of us. Just before he got us to booking I would tell the cop to compare our names and addresses on our ID's. He would then realize we were married and, after a stern lecture, we would be set free. I told it to Karen after a very successful night of dress up and we screwed harder and with more passion that we had in months. Karen made me promise, however, not to do anything to make it come true without her sober consent. That didn't stop me from day dreaming an even more elaborate scenario. I would call the police to report a prostitute soliciting business and watch my wife get busted. I couldn't do this at Rodinos because she knew all of the vice cops so I would have to do it when we were on a road trip in a different police district. I could just see the look on her face as the undercover cop slapped a pair of handcuffs on her. She would get strip searched, finger printed, and processed into the system. In the morning, after spending the night behind bars, she would appear in front of a judge with a score of other fallen women, plead guilty, and be sentenced to a $250 fine and time served. Sometimes I would even pretend the other whores stole her clothes and was wearing a thin t-shirt which one of the cops gave her. Of course I would be waiting with the other pimps to bail her whoring ass out. That night I would frame Karen's mug shot next to a copy of the paperwork from her prostitution arrest and hang it on the wall above our bed. Karen would admit that being arrested for prostitution was the most sexually arousing thing that ever happened to her and couldn't wait to do it again. At least that's how it played out in my mind as I came in my hand. One night, after several drinks and a lot of foreplay, Karen reminded me how intense our love making as after I told her my fantasy. "So big boy," she said as she fondled my cock, "Do you have another story in you?" I grinned and launched into My Wife the Whore... version 2.0. With each retelling the story became more elaborate and detailed. When we were both played out she would remind me not to do anything to make it come true without her sober consent. Chapter IV But that had been a long time ago, before Karen and I became successful enough to afford our own cocktails. Gradually, her dress-up wardrobe was replaced with dowdy work ensembles and twelve hour workdays. She even started wearing a pair of plain white cotton panties under her pantyhose. Gone was the ever ready exhibitionist who enjoyed flashing her pussy at strange men. That's why I was surprised to see my wife, sitting with her legs spread, sipping a vodka gimlet like in the good old days. I don't know if she was trying to make me jealous or test to see if there was any spark which she could rekindle by playing the Game. She was making no attempt to be discrete but rather seemed to be flaunting her sexuality to anyone who cared to look. Two men were flanking her barstool, massaging her exposed breasts with one hand as they slid their other high enough up her thighs to have reached nirvana. By the look on Karen's face she had at least two strange fingers in her pussy. But tonight I had no intention of intervening to stop their molestation. I could see my wife grinding her pussy into their hands, her eyes closed as she approached a climax. Oddly enough, in the past this would have aroused me, tonight watching her cum made me sad for how much we had changed. When Karen finally acknowledged me with a wave she entered into an animated conversation with the men...neither seemed to be in much of a hurry to remove their hands from her pussy but finally she slipped off the barstool, gave each a lover's kiss, grabbed her drink and started walking. I had no idea that Karen still had her street walker outfit and was surprised to see her wearing the skin tight micro mini skirt which I had bought in the children's department. I always loved it when Karen wore it in public because it was so short her ass cheeks peeked out when she walked. It was so short, in fact, that the garters holding up the black stocking were clearly visible against her pale flesh. Her short jacket was unbuttoned and her magnificent breasts swayed enticingly behind the sheer blouse as she walked towards me. I would miss sucking on her perfect nipples. When Karen slipped into the booth she made sure her skirt rode up fully exposing her pussy. My guess was that she had at least three drinks already. She leaned over and sucked my tongue into her mouth while rubbing my cock through my pants. Instinctively I slid my hand inside her jacket and began to play with her rock hard nipples. But before my lower brain took over completely I said, "We've got to talk." I took the thick envelope out of my jacket pocket and laid it on the table Karen stared at the name of the law firm in the corner but didn't touch it. After several minutes of absolute silence my wife spoke, "Is that what I think it is?" I nodded, "Yes. I think you'll find the settlement offer is very fair." Karen looked in shock. "Isn't there anything I can do to change your mind?" "Isn't it a little late for that? "It's never too late. Go ahead. Try me." She took off her jacket and threw it on the table. All she had on was a very sheer blouse and a lace shelf bra that lifted and displayed her perfect ice cream sundae tits. It took all my concentration to not be distracted. I pushed the envelope in front of Karen and said, "I suggest you read these." I got up. "Please, don't leave," she begged. "Okay, I won't leave. I'll have one drink by the bar...one drink then I'll come back to say my last good-bye." I nursed my cocktail for about twenty minutes. When the crowd noise tapered off I could hear her crying across the room. I didn't look back. My class empty, I walked back to the booth and handed her my handkerchief. The papers where spread out all over the table. "Are there any changes you would like to make?" "Please. I'll do anything to keep you...anything...I love you and want to stay married to you." She pleaded. "Will you turn down the promotion?" Karen got very quiet and began to whimper softly. "Then what exactly is this mythical anything you keep offering? Is it like your wedding vows when you promised to love, honor, and obey?" "I can't." She sobbed. "I gave my word. They already hired someone to take my place." "So what you're saying is you'll do absolutely nothing to save our marriage. I lose my house, my job, and my friends so you can work sixty hours a week for half of what I make." "Tell you what. I love you enough to make a counter offer. You quit your job and we start a family. I will treat you like a queen and promise to be the best father, the best husband, the best provider, and the best lover. I will buy us a house big enough to raise an army of children...and someday, many years from now when we're old and gray, I want to die in the arms of the only woman I have ever loved." Karen didn't say a word. I slipped my wedding ring off, dropped it on the table, turned and walked away without looking back. Chapter V Six Months Later The phone call came out of the blue but I immediately recognized the voice, "Mark, its Vince. Long time no see. Hey, why don't you stop tonight by so we can catch up...I've got some beautiful new girls working for me and from what I hear you could stand to get laid." After Karen left I was devastated and withdrew from everything but work. Without a wife to share my life with, I became a sales banshee and doubled my numbers. I would come home after sunset to an empty condominium and sit in the dark and stare at the city lights until I fell asleep. On weekends I got pass out drunk. After a few weeks the perky I'm doing great on my new jobs texts from Karen stopped...not that I had read any of them. I also screened my calls, letting any numbers I didn't recognize go to voice mail. "Yeah, sure Vince," was all I said. I walked into Rodinos around eight and was treated like a rock star. Everyone flocked to me, the men shaking my hands and the woman kissing and hugging me. Vince threw his arms around me like I was his long lost son and I began to cry. "I've got a new girl just started tonight. Dumb as a rock but a great body. I'll send her right over." I tried to protest but Vince held his hand up as he walked away. Alex, one of the vice cops who frequented the bar, slapped me on the back and said "How you been?" Another drink appeared on the bar in front of me. A couple of minutes later a very familiar voice behind me said, "For a hundred bucks I'll rock your world." Alex spun around, slapped a pair of handcuffs on the woman, and barked, "You're under arrest." Before I could tell Alex I wasn't in the mood for one of his stupid jokes, he said, "One word and you're next." I screamed "Are you fucking crazy!" Then I saw her... it was my beautiful estranged-wife. Her long blonde hair was now peroxide blonde and cut to accentuate her face. Her make up was applied to perfection; even though there was a whorish amount it looked like her face had a radiant aura rather than the dark look which is so prevalent today. She looked like she was glowing in an incredibly sheer gold dress. Her breasts jutted out proudly and I immediately noticed her rock hard nipples were pierced and three gold chains hung enticingly between them. Next I noticed she had slipped her shapely legs into a pair of flesh colored silk stockings. Her cleanly shaved pussy shimmered. Her labia pierced and three gold chains hung between her engorged pussy lips. She looked so incredibly erotic. I threw my arms around her and grabbed her ass. "You came back." I kissed her like I had never kissed her before. "You were right. I worked sixteen fuck'n hours a day, seven fuck'n days a week, without a single day off for those bastards and the moment the government contract fell through they fired me. You called it. Can you ever forgive me for being so stupid?" "That all depends...will you burn all of those old lady outfits you bought?" "Hell yes. Would you believe the last thing that asshole said to me was, I dressed like his old maid aunt up in Wisconsin." "Well he should see you now." "Roger, it's your call," the vice cop said. "If I take her in she'll have a record for the arrest. The judge will slap her with a fine and cut her loose in the morning." "If that offer to have an army of children is still open I'm begging your forgiveness. I will never, never betray you again. Besides, you've got to take me back. You know I won't be able to get a job in high finance with a conviction for prostitution." "Good, then you better get arrested again tomorrow night just to be sure." "Then you better buy two frames," she teased. I couldn't believe she remembered that. "Then two it is." We both laughed. "I have something for you." Karen turned and opened her handcuffed hands to show me my wedding ring. I slipped it back on my finger. When Karen stopped kissing me she announced, "I haven't had sex with anyone since the day I left town and get arrested for soliciting my husband the first day I come back...only in Chicago!" Everyone laughed at that.