0 comments/ 167082 views/ 35 favorites East St. Louis Cathouse By: bobfr I double checked the address written on the card and confirmed that it matched the number on the dilapidated building. I must confess, there was a lump in my throat, my heart was pounding and my palms were sweaty as I got out of the rented chevy and crossed the street. What the hell was I even doing here? I couldn't have been more out of place. I was a white man. This was not a white neighborhood. I was a married white man. The building I was walking toward was the last place on earth in which one would expect to find a married white man. The two story, run-down building was a whorehouse in East St. Louis, Illinois that catered only to black men. I pressed the bell and waited. It seemed like forever. Finally, the door opened a crack and a huge black man said with a chuckle, "you jus gotta be Ron, come on in I'm Latrell." I stepped inside a dimly lit foyer and followed the black stranger into a rather seedy reception room. "Sit down Ron, take a load off, relax. Can I get you something to drink?" "A coke would be okay," I answered nervously as I sat down on a brown, imitation leather sofa. He disappeared for a minute and came back smiling broadly as he handed me the cold can. Shaking his huge bald head in disbelief, he said, "I gotta tell ya man, this is a fuckin first for me. When old Andy called and told me he had been talking to a white dude and what you were lookin for, I thought he musta been fuckin nuts. But old Andy's somebody I can count on." ++++++++++++ His mention of Andy caused my mind to race back to an hour earlier when I entered a bar across the river. I recalled that I had to get up the nerve to even go into that part of town, let alone into a bar that few white men had probably ever entered. I remembered sitting at the bar, ordering a drink and trying to get the courage to broach the subject that brought me there in the first place. He said, "I'm Andy. Guess I don't need to tell ya that you're kinda oudaplace here, wounsha say?" I cleared my throat and said, "I'm sure you don't have many white men come to this part of St. Louis." I thought it couldn't hurt to be friendly so I reached my hand across the bar to shake his. "By the way Andy, I'm Ron, nice to meet you." He had no choice but to reciprocate but I sensed his suspicion. "Well friend, things are quiet now," as he waved his hand toward the end of the bar where the only other patron sat, "but it won't be quiet forever. Why don ya tell me what's on yer mind?" "This is kind of embarrassing, but I told myself before I left home yesterday for this business trip that I would do it." "Do what? Shit man, go on, get it out!" he said with exasperation. Here goes I thought, he's going to think I'm crazy but there's no turning back now. I took a sip of my drink to stall for time then blurted out, "I'm trying to find a whorehouse that caters to black men." He leaned on the bar. His face was a foot from mine when spoke seriously. "Ron, jus in case you haven't looked in the mirror lately, you ain't no black man. Also, you shouldn't have no trouble getting pussy in this town, no trouble at all. Plenty of working girls, I guess they call em escorts now, in the yellow pages and pros in most hotel lounges." Oh, shit, this was going to be much harder than I thought. While this subject had been on my mind for years, until this moment I had only shared my thoughts with one other person, now I would have to explain my request to this black stranger. I cleared my throat and explained, " I'm not looking for a place for me to visit, I thought you might know of some place that was looking for help. A place that would be interested in a beautiful white woman." There was silence as he digested what he thought I had said. "Let me get this straight, are you white boys taking over pimping hos now? You sure don't look like no pimp to me, you look more like a lawyer." It seemed to me like his own words caught him by surprise. " Hey man, you ain't no cop are you? Look, I don't want no fucking trouble." "No, I'm not a lawyer, I'm not a pimp, I'm not a cop. Andy, I'm just a salesman from Omaha here on business." There was no sense beating around the bush, so I continued. "I want to find a place where Jennifer, that's my wife, can work for a few days." "Hey man, is this some kinda fucking joke?" He laughed, looked around and continued, "oh, I get it, are we on candid camera?" Very seriously, I said, "it's no joke and we're not on candid camera." Shaking his black head he said, "man, the way yer dressed and everything I never woulda thought you'd be married to a whore." "Jennifer's not a whore, she works in an office. We have three kids. I don't know exactly how to explain it Andy, but for a long time I've had a fantasy about my wife with another man. We married right out of high school and she's never been with another guy. So, anyway, I had these thoughts of my wife with another man. Over time, for some reason, it became a black guy, then recently lots of black guys. Don't ask me why, it would take all night to try explain it because I really don't understand it myself. It just happened over time and I'm asking for your help." "That's the damnedest thing I ever heard of." He paused and seemed to be taking in everything he had heard. "Ain't none a my business but that's just plain crazy." "You're probably right Andy, maybe I am crazy but that's the truth and that's why I came in here, I was hoping you might help me. Sorry to have wasted your time." I placed a five-dollar bill on the bar and got up to leave. He reached out put his hand on my arm. "Hold on Ron, hold on. Ain't a cathouse I know of this side a the river, but' there's one cross the river in East St. Louis. You know about East St. Louis donsha?" His question seemed ominous, I assumed that East St. Louis would be a suburb of the Missouri City. "No, when I call on accounts in this area I've never needed to cross the river into Illinois." "It's pretty rough, man. Only people who live there now are down on their luck, mostly black. But the cops leave people alone. Crack houses, gambling and Latrell's place, that's the cat house. He's got a couple white gals and a couple black gals. I know he's always looking for new pussy. Should I give him a call?" There it was, the moment of decision. Andy had warned me that this wasn't any high class brothel, just the opposite. I didn't have to think very long. I had been anticipating this moment for years. "Please call him." He stepped ten feet down the bar, turned his back to me and dialed the phone. I couldn't hear what was said as he talked for a couple of minutes. Just before he hung up he wrote something. He returned to me, handed me a card and said, "here's the address of Latrell's place and directions. If ya get lost call the number I wrote down. Oh, by the way Ron, I wouldn't fuck with Latrell, if this is some kind of joke don't go over there, you probably won't come back. If yer for real, good luck, especially to yer wife. He's waiting for ya." With that, he shuffled to the end of the bar to serve his other customer. I slipped the card in my pocket, left the bar and drove across the river to a very different world. +++++++++++++ So, here I was sitting in a reception room in a whorehouse in East St. Louis, Illinois. I was abruptly brought back to the present when Latrell asked, "you serious about this?" I cleared my throat, nodded my head and said, "very serious." "Well I'm always looking for new meat, sorry, no offense. Anyway, what's your wife's name?" "Jennifer," I answered. "Tell me about her, you know how old, what she looks like, all that stuff." "She's 34, about 5'8", weighs about 128, I think. Long brown hair, blue eyes, very pretty." "Got a photo?" I wasn't surprised by his request and had prepared for it. I fished a picture from my jacket pocket of her that was taken at the lake last summer. I brought the photo with me on this trip for this very purpose. She was wearing her white bikini and looked like a million bucks. Nervously, I handed it to him. "Wow! She's a lot more than pretty Ron, I'd call her really beautiful and she looks sooo hot." I didn't respond so he went on, "Andy tol me she ain't never fucked anybody but you, that can't be right." "It's the truth." "Guess I don understand. If ya want to watch her get laid, I magine there're lotsa guys at home who'd do it. Andy said you were from out of town someplace . . ." "Omaha's home for us. I'm a salesman. I fly to St. Louis every month to call on my accounts." He didn't respond but waited for me to continue. I cleared my throat and said, "I know you're right Latrell, there are a lot of guys at home who would love to take her to bed but that's not what I want." I took another sip of the cold coke. For some reason I felt an obligation to explain everything to him. "I don't want to mess up our lives and I don't want Jennifer to fall in love with someone. She's one of those women who has always thought that she could never have sex with someone she doesn't love. Anyway, somehow the idea of her screwing just for fun and with someone she didn't know crept into my mind and it wouldn't go away. I fueled it by reading everything I could about men who wanted their wives to fuck around. I rented videos and spent a lot of time on the Internet. Now, for some reason, that's just about all I think about. I guess it's become an obsession." "What does Jennifer think of your idea?" "When I first mentioned it to her a couple of years ago she cried and cried. She thought I wanted an excuse to be with other women. When she came to realize that wasn't it we would fantasize when we made love but after she would say she could never do anything like that. By the time she had warmed up to the idea of fooling around a little, my fantasy had changed and became much more extreme. Eventually, I could only imagine her with a black body on top of her. As you might expect, after I shared my new fantasy with her, it set everything back a few months. When she finally got used to that idea, I could only imagine her with a black man that she had sex with for money. This was the greatest obstacle of all to overcome and took even more time and patience I won't bore you with the details." "Go on. I'm interested." "Then, a few weeks ago, she said that if she was ever going to do anything it would have to be out of town. When I pressed and asked if she would make love to a black man for money she said maybe she would if I could make certain arrangements. We agreed that she wouldn't be a street walker or go to a hotel room with a stranger because it was too dangerous. The only possibility left seemed to be working in a place like this." I finished the coke and set the empty can on the end table. "Seriously? I think she probably didn't think I would, or could, actually do it. I'm not sure that I thought I could do it either . . . I mean make the arrangements. Anyway, before I left home yesterday on this trip I told her I would look around and asked if she would still do it if I could find a place. I know it wasn't easy for her and while she didn't exactly agree she did tell me to see what I could arrange. So, that's the story, here I am." He leaned back in his chair for several seconds and seemed to be thinking about what I had revealed. "Ron, before we go any farther let me tell ya about this place. We're open all the time. Guys who come here come for a lot of different reasons. Some of em couldn't get laid any other way. Some of em don't like complications. Some of the brothers want what their wives and girl friends won't give em at home and they can only get here. And, let's face it, some of em want a woman that looks a lot better than their old lady and cash is the only way they can get one. This place ain't fancy but it's probably the busiest whorehouse around these parts." He was interrupted by the door bell. "Hang on," he said as he went to the door. Before he got to the door, three women— actually two women and a young girl—came in the room through a doorway that I hadn't noticed before. Two were very pretty white women and the third a young tall black girl who must have been about twenty. They were all wearing high heels and lingerie. The blonde white woman was wearing a black bra and thong panty, the brunette white woman was wearing a white very sheer teddy and the black girl a sheer pink peignoir that she left open in front bearing her breasts and the neatly trimmed triangle of hair above her vagina. Each struck a sexy pose. They knew that I wasn't the customer and they weren't posing for me. Latrell entered the room followed by fat black man who must have been more than sixty years old. When he entered the room, each woman smiled at him. I could almost hear them plead, "pick me, please pick me." He looked each of over from head to foot, took his time, then nodded at the brunette. Almost immediately the room cleared out and Latrell and I were alone again. "Now where were we, oh ya how things work here. Well, you already saw three of my girls, got another one that's busy now." He looked at his watch and said, "she should be finished soon." The old guy that went up with Claire, that's the pretty gal in the white teddy, anyway, he was a first timer. Regulars know pretty much who they want unless we got fresh meat. He wanted an hour half and half, that's a flat c note, a hundred bucks, I keep half and she gets half. Tips and extras are hers. He won't last no hour that's fer sure. Claire'll milk him dry in about fifteen minutes. He could have had a half hour for $75 but almost everybody goes for the hour. I don't know what ya know and don't know about this business but a half and half is head and a fuck. Head is less and a fuck is less than a combo." Before he could continue the door bell rang again. This time the blonde, the tall black girl and another black girl who must have been the one who was busy before entered and posed. Latrell returned with two tall black men that could have been NBA centers. I assumed they would each pick a girl. I was surprised when they nodded to the blonde and the three of them disappeared. "How come those guys didn't each pick a gal?" I asked. "Sometimes the brothers like to share a gal. They don't save any money they just like to try to drive em crazy with DP, I mean double penetration," He explained. "Got any other questions on how it works here?" I must have had a dozen other questions that I could have asked and should have asked but I didn't, I just shook my head, no. "Okay then, let me show ya around the place." He walked through the door in the room that the girls had come from into a lounge with a TV, a couple of sofas and chairs. One of the black girls was there, the other one was someplace else and I knew that the two white girls were busy. Proudly he said, this is where the gals can relax out of their cribs while they wait for the johns. He didn't bother to introduce me to Kisha who was reading a magazine. He went on, "got us a kitchen so we can eat in and be ready for business," he explained as we walked into a kitchen that had seen its better days. We went out into the foyer again and I noticed stairs leading to the second floor. I followed him up and saw several doors on either side of a wide hall. I also heard moans, groans, sighs and the sounds of squeaky mattress springs coming from behind the doors. At the end of the hall he opened a door and switched on the light. "This here's where your old lady would be," he announced. The room was very small, only large enough to accommodate a double bed, a dresser and a wooden chair. The only light was red and came from a lamp on the floor. On top of the dresser was a stack of folded towels, a stack of folded sheets, a large bottle of KY lubricant and a box that contained twelve dozen "gold foil maxxum condoms." "Do the guys have to use condoms?" I wanted to know. "Fuck no, most of em hate em. Goin swimmin with yer clothes on, ha ha ha. No we have em in case the guy wants to use em but the gal can't make em. Ain't none a my business what goes on in here behind closed doors." He thought of something else and asked, "Is yer old lady on the pill?" "Yes she is," I said. What I didn't say is that she had only been on the pill for a few weeks. I had a vasectomy six years ago after our last baby was born so we didn't need to practice any form of birth control. When it seemed like Jennifer was coming to accept my desires for her, I persuaded her to get on the pill again so she wouldn't have to worry if—hopefully when—it happened. I checked her medicine cabinet the morning after she filled the prescription and got very excited as I saw that a pill was missing. I checked frequently and saw that she had been taking them faithfully. This was probably the most concrete evidence that she had accepted my fantasy and might cooperate. "The john's at the end of the hall. Two of the rooms have baths but the new girl has to move up to one of those rooms." He opened the door to a bathroom and I looked inside. There was a large, old fashioned cast iron tub with claw feet, a basin and a toilet. On a shelf, next to the tub, were dozens of Masingale disposable douches. On the sink ledge was a giant bottle of green mouth wash and a stack of small plastic cups. Without saying anything else, I followed Latrell down the hall to the stairs past the moaning, groaning, sighing and squishy sounds of sex. Back in the reception room— really a parlor I guess— Latrell cut to the chase. "So, she gonna come here or not? It's Thursday, I could use her tomorrow. Oh, she ain't on the rag is she?" "No, she had her last period over a week ago. I can't promise anything Latrell, but I believe she will, she said she would. I'll call her when I get back to the hotel. She'll have to make arrangements for the kids until I get home." He stuck his giant hand out and said, "then I guess we got us a deal. You know, I have to check her out when she gets here, donsha? I mean I got to give her a test ride, so to speak, before the brothers get a crack at her. I mean ya said she wasn't a pro and this is a first for her. If everything's cool with her, she can be turning tricks in less than an hour after she gets here. You got a problem with that?" "No, I understand." I walked to the front door and said, "I'll call you after I talk with Jennifer tonight." "That's great man, looking forward. Oh, by the way Ron, if she walks through that door tomorrow night, she's mine until Sunday. If ya got a problem with that better tell me now." "I understand," I said as I walked through the doorway, the same doorway she might pass through tomorrow. A thousand thoughts were spinning through my mind as I drove back to the Marriot in St. Louis. I knew that Jennifer thought I probably would never be able to make the complicated arrangements I had just completed. Now the question was, would she keep her part of the bargain? There was no doubt that all of this was my idea. Would I live to regret it? I deliberately avoided calling home. I grabbed a bite in the restaurant at the hotel, then had couple of drinks in the bar stalling for time. Finally, I couldn't put off placing my regular evening call home. Only this call would be different than any I had ever made before. Megan, our twelve year old, answered on the first ring. "Hey Meg, how's it going?" "Dad, I'm in the middle of a really important call can you call back later?" In the background I heard our five-year old shout, "mommy, mommy, Nancy won't let me watch the cartoon channel." Jennifer's beautiful voice said, "David be a good big brother and turn the channel back for your sister." Now I had two good reasons to delay the phone conversation. First, Jen was obviously needed as a domestic referee and second Meg wasn't about to give up the telephone without a fight. Though I hated call waiting and normally I would have told her that I couldn't call back and to put her mother on the line immediately I was, nonetheless, relieved to get a short reprieve. "Sure hon, tell mom I called and I'll call back later. And Meg, help mom with the kids, okay?" East St. Louis Cathouse "Sure dad, bye." In an instant she was back to the conversation that I had interrupted. I turned on the TV to kill some time while I waited to call back. It was almost nine o'clock and I knew the kids would be in bed in an hour or so. But, my thoughts weren't on the flickering images or the sound but the night before I left for this trip. +++++++++++++++ Even though she had been taking the birth control pills for two or three weeks and she had said that if I could make the arrangements she would try to fulfill my fantasy, I still doubted that she would do it. That is until the night before I left for my trip. I was already in bed when she came out of the bathroom. I must have seen her naked thousands of times yet I never tired of it. As she glided toward the queen size bed she seemed to be smoldering. She was the aggressor. She pulled the off the covers then my boxers. Her kisses were wet and hot. I was ready and eager but she prolonged the moment. As she sucked my cock I was certain I couldn't hold back and said, "oh baby, back off I'm ready to come." When she lifted off my wet throbbing shaft -- that I thought was about to split like an over- cooked hot dog-- there was a wicked smile on her face as she said, "we wouldn't want that now would we? The only place we want your protein deposited is in my pussy bank, right?" She was like a wild woman. As hard as I tried, I couldn't hold off. I must not have lasted ten minutes but every second that I was in her I was jabbering. "Oh baby your pussy feels great. . . Wouldn't love to have another cock in you? . . . Wouldn't you love to have a big cock in you? Wouldn't you love to have a black cock in you? . . . Wouldn't you love to have lots of black cocks?" Between pants and gasps and moans and sighs she verbally and physically responded. "Ah, ah honey, I love your cock . . . I love your cock . . . I love cock, I love cock . . . I love cocks, I love cocks." That progression drove me over the edge. I thought I would pass out when I came. Her climax seemed to be as intense as my own. She spoke first and very seriously. "Ron, we can't go on like this. It seems to me like we have three choices. One we can get a divorce and go our separate ways. Two I can give into your fantasy and do whatever you want me to. Three we can try to go back to the way things were before you started all this. I don't want a divorce, that's for sure and I don't think you do either. I really don't think we can ever go back to the way things were before. You'd always resent me for being a boring wife, not a hot wife, not a slut wife which I know you really want. That leaves just one choice. I told you a few weeks ago I would do it. I don't know if I was really serious then or not. I got the pills. Every morning as I took one I thought it was silly and a waste before you had been cut. Now, I don't think it's silly. When you go out of town tomorrow see what you can do to make your fantasy a reality." I didn't say a word. I don't think I could have because it takes oxygen to talk and I wasn't breathing for a minute. +++++++++++++++ It was ten thirty when I called again. Her sexy voice could give me a hard on. "Hi hon, how'd your day go?" She asked. Rather than answer directly I said, "I went over to East St. Louis today." "Oh, do you have a new account there?" "No, it wasn't on company business." There was silence for moment, then she asked, "okay, so tell me, why did you go to East St. Louis?" "A bartender on this side of the river gave me the address of a place over there." "The kind of place we've been talking about?" She asked nervously. "Yes, that kind of place." "Go on," she said softly. "Well, this house has four women working there, two white and two black. It's in a kind of run-down part of town and owned by a black man named Latrell. I was there for about half an hour. He gave me a tour. . ." "And?" she interrupted. "And, he said if you want to, well he could use some help over the weekend." "It's not what I want, it never has been. What do you want me to do Ron?" She wasn't going to let me off the hook. "I want you to do it." There, I had said the magic words. Dead silence, then she said, "my folks are going away Saturday morning, I guess you'll have to come home and watch the kids. What now?" "I've got to call Latrell and tell him you're coming. Then, I'll make a reservation for you and get back to you with the details. Okay?" "Call me back," she said. Then, just before hanging up, she whispered, "I love you Ron." I decided to call United airlines before calling Latrell. I booked her on a flight through Chicago that left Omha at 2:30. She would arrive in St. Louis at 6:00. She would depart St. Louis on Sunday at 3:30 and arrive in Omaha at 7:30. Then, I changed my return so I could meet her flight, then drive her to East St. Louis hurry back to the airport and get to Omaha in time to pick up the kids from Jennifer's parent's house about 11:00. My hand was shaking as I dialed the number on the slip of paper that Andy had given me. I recognized Latrell's deep voice even though his greeting was a single word, "ya?" "Hey Latrell, it's Ron. I called home and talked with Jennifer, then I made arrangements for her to fly here tomorrow. If everything goes according to schedule, she'll be there around seven tomorrow night." "That's great. Did ya tell her about the place and how we operate?" "A little." "I want ya to tell her everything I told you and what ya saw. I don't want any surprises or for her to freak out. Had real trouble once with a gal that wasn't a pro who changed her mind at exactly the wrong time. Know what I mean?" "I'll explain as much as I can, " I promised. I was anxious to get off the line and so I said, "guess that's about it I'll see you tomorrow." "No Ron, you won't see me tomorrow night, only sweet Jennifer will. Ya can walk her to the door but ya can't come in this time. Like I said when you was over here, if she's walks through the door she's mine for the weekend. Last chance, that okay with you and her?" "It's okay with me, I'll make sure she understands when I call to give her the travel schedule. If you don't hear back from me, she'll be there and accept your terms." "Cool, Ron. Until tomorrow." Then he hung up. God, I guess it was really happening. After all the years. All the arguments that we had over this. My guilt, her hurt and disappointment in me. Slowly, ever so slowly, Jennifer getting turned on as we fantasized while making love, then a few months ago her willingness to talk about it when we weren't making love. Her coming to the realization that I wasn't about to drop the subject. Finally, her resignation to my idea as manifested by the birth control pills that she asked her OB/Gyn to prescribe and her faithfully taking one every day when required. I dialed the familiar number and before she could say anything I said, "have you got a pencil and paper?" "Hang on a sec . . . okay, go ahead." "I made a reservation for you to fly here tomorrow, its United flight 247 through Chicago. Departs Omaha at 2:30, change planes in Chicago, your Chicago flight, number 625, leaves at 5:00 you'll arrive here at 6:00. I'll drive you over to East St. Louis and then dash back to the airport to catch my flight home. Tell your folks I can pick the kids up about 11:00. Sunday you leave St. Louis on United flight 615 at 3:30 again through Chicago. You arrive in Omaha at 7:30, I'll pick you up. Guess you'll have to take a cab to the airport in St. Louis. Did you get all that?" She carefully read back the travel plans and then asked, "anything else?" "Not that I can think of. Like I said before, this place is kind of sleazy but the customers are all black, its far from home, you won't know anyone and they won't know you. That's about it I guess." "So we're really going to do it then?" "It's up to you honey, you're the one that has to do it. Are you nervous?" "What do you think, of course I'm scared to death." "Are you also excited?" I wanted to know. "You've made me love sex. You've been playing with my mind for a long time. I guess the waiting is about over. Yes Ron, I'm both nervous and excited. This Latrell guy, I imagine he'll be the first, won't he?" "Yes, he will." "What's he like?" She wanted to know. "I guess he's about fifty, huge, very black with a shaved head." I thought it was time to drop it so I said, "well kid, you've got a busy day tomorrow, I'm going to try to sleep. Call me if you want to talk, I'm in room 1245. I really love you Jen." "I love you too darling. Sleep well. Goodnight my love." I confess, I didn't get much sleep. I tossed and turned, drifted off for what I thought was a couple of hours but I saw was only a few minutes by the red numerals that were illuminated on the hotel clock next to the telephone. During that long night, I thought back to the lovely high school junior I fell hopelessly in love with the first time that I saw her. I remembered our very first kiss. How her hair smelled. The first time I touched her breasts through several layers of clothing and the first time I touched them bare. Her perky little nipples. And then after high school our hot make-out sessions but she wouldn't let me get to home plate. She did let me get to third base before we were engaged and I thought I would die when she didn't stop my hands from exploring beneath her skirt. She didn't come to our marriage bed a virgin because the month before we made love at a friend's house. She was the third girl for me, I was the first man for her. She was wonderful. As the years went by she just got better and better in bed and more beautiful with each passing year. We wanted at least two kids, a boy and a girl. We ended up with three before I had my vasectomy. Jennifer is the perfect mom. She takes care of the kids and makes our modest tract house a home. She works part time in an office, is involved in the PTA and never misses a Church service. And then my fantasies crept into our lives. Slowly at first then with increasing frequency and intensity. Like I explained to Latrell and Andy, I don't know exactly how it started it just did. When we were first dating and early in our marriage I became very jealous when guys even looked at her. Somehow that jealously turned to pride. I was proud that the woman that shared my life and my bed was very attractive to other men, nearly all other men. Then when we made love I began to imagine her with another man and how would she react to a different lover or different lovers? I had seen my share of porno films and realized that none of the women in the films could hold a candle to Jen in looks or passion. My Jennifer always comes several times, always intensely. She is the most fantastic lover imaginable. I know that as hard as I tried, other men would have techniques that would put mine to shame. I was average in size and endurance. How would she respond to a huge hung guy who could go for hours? I shared all of these thoughts with her hundreds of times. She seldom responded with words but frequently with increased movement, a release of moisture and intense orgasms. After, she would say that she could never be with anyone but me. Now, she was about to fulfill my fantasy. I knew I could stop the whole thing with a word. But, when she told me two months ago that— probably just to shut me up—if I really wanted her to do it she would, the die had been cast, there would be no turning-back. I must have dozed, at least for a while, because the black of night was giving way to the faint light of the new day when I opened my eyes. I still had several sales calls to make and would have to get a move on if I was to meet Jennifer at the airport at 6:00. I thought about calling her but decided to leave well enough alone. She hadn't called me. She would either get off the plane at 6:00, or she wouldn't. The day was busy and I was very grateful for that. I didn't want to do a lot of thinking at least not a lot of thinking about Jennifer and my fantasy. I finished my last appointment at 5:00. If the traffic cooperated I could make it to the airport with time to spare. The traffic did cooperate and I was at the gate before her plane landed even though it was five minutes early. And then she was there. I can't remember her ever looking more beautiful. She was wearing a sleeveless, very short print dress. With her tan legs she didn't need stockings or pantyhose. On her feet were the high heel sandals she had talked about the night before. Over her shoulder was a small tote bag. She rushed into my arms and planted a big wet kiss on my hungry lips. I took her bag, grabbed hand and started the long walk to the parking garage. "Welcome to St. Louis, Jen." She just smiled. In the rent car we kissed again. It was obvious that she was frightened but in some strange way also very aroused. "All set?" I asked. "As ready as I'll ever be," she said bravely. As we drove toward the bridge that crossed the Mississippi river, I asked, "how was work today?" "I didn't go, I called in sick. You didn't say anything about my hair. I spent the morning at the beauty parlor. I had the full treatment." And, so she had. I should have noticed and commented on the new soft sexier hairdo, the manicured and pedicured nails. "You look beautiful hon." "Thanks." Then mischievously, she asked, "think they will like me?" "They'll love you." She explained that she had dropped the kids off at her parents. She told them she was going to a PTA conference in St. Louis as a last minute substitute for a woman who had to cancel and that I would pick the children up late when I returned from a business trip. Then, we were across the river and into Illinois. I glanced at my wife out of the corner of my eye to gauge her reaction to East St. Louis as I took the first off ramp. She seemed shocked, as she observed, "this place has seen its better days I would say." Two more turns and I parked the rent car where I had yesterday. "That's Latrell's place over there," I said as I pointed to the two story building across the street. She didn't respond. "Are you ready?" "If you want me to be," she said without looking at me but down in her lap. "Let's go," I said as I got out of the car, went around and opened her door. I grabbed her tote bag with one hand and held her hand tightly with the other as we crossed the street. We walked up the stairs hand in hand. I could hardly breathe as I pressed the buzzer. The door opened just a crack. I knew that the black hand that reached out was the same one I had shaken yesterday. The hand beckoned Jennifer's. I placed her hand in his and then stepped back. She looked at me and I'm quite sure she wanted to say something but she was being gently pulled through the door. And then she was gone, the door closed behind her with a thud. I stood there for a minute, then turned and crossed the street. I don't really remember crossing the river, driving to the airport, turning the car in at Avis and boarding my plane but obviously I did all of that. My flight was non-stop. We had been in the air for a while when I looked at my watch, I saw that it was almost 9:00. Almost two hours had elapsed since I handed my Jennifer, my wife, the love of my life over to Latrell. There was little doubt that he had already taken her for a test drive. It was also likely that she had heard the buzzer, probably more than once, and joined the others in the reception room. The others who would have been partially, though skimpily, clothed while she would have been naked. As pretty as the other women were, I knew no one would consider choosing any of them over my Jen. I picked the kids up, helped them to bed in the modest tract house that had been our home for eight years. The house seemed empty because she was gone. In our bedroom I could smell her perfume. I noticed an envelope on my pillow. She had written: Dear Ron: If you are reading this letter it means that you came back from St. Louis alone. I made my promise to you that I would go through with this and, as I write this, that is my intention. I guess a woman always has the right to change her mind but I don't think I will. As you might guess, my stomach's in a knot. I'm doing this because you want me to and because I love you. I know you will never be completely happy unless I do my part to make your fantasy a reality. Anyway it's just one weekend. Wish me luck. I love you with all my heart Jennifer It was midnight. Five hours in our lives were gone. How was she? Was she okay, physically and emotionally? My fingers were ahead of my brain as they punched in the area code and the seven numbers that would link me to Latrell. He answered on the second ring with the now familiar, "Ya?" I wanted to sound cool so I said, "Hey Latrell, it's Ron." "Watcha want man?" "Just wanted to make sure that Jennifer's okay and things are going smooth." "She's great!" "Can I talk with her?" "She busy right now, been a mad house here all night. Like I tol ya, word gets out fast when we got fresh meat. Got three guys waitin and all the gals are busy." I heard the buzzer ring, then he said, "hang on a sec man." When he returned he told me, "Ron I been doing this shit for a lotta years and I never had a better piece of ass than your Jennifer. She's beautiful, sexy and so enthusiastic. And, she's a real trooper. I tol her she didn't have to make the last buzzer call, she needed to pace herself and get some rest, but she wouldn't hear any of that. Course, she was chosen, seems like she has been every time. Only time the others get a shot is when Jennifer's busy. Anyway man, she's doin jus fine. I can have her call ya but I doubt she'll get a break tonight." "That's okay. Please take good care of her." Then, I hung up before he could say goodbye. There it was. I guess I instinctively knew what she was capable of. Now it had happened. How did I feel about it? The long night was painful for me. The king-size bed seemed unusually empty. I actually ached for her. Yet that part of my mind that started all of this was a kaleidoscope of overlapping images. I tried to imagine what happened after Latrell closed the door behind himself and Jen. Did they go directly to her room? How long before they made love. No, how long before they fucked. I reasoned that you couldn't make love to someone you didn't even know let alone love. Did she in fact swallow? How many customers since Latrell? How many more during the long night and on Saturday, actually today by now? I would have to wait to find out. I kept a box of tissues on the night stand and had to use them several times which was rare for me. Rare, shit it never happened before. Tonight I was a regular cum fountain. Somehow the long night came to an end. I did my best to keep busy during the day. I took the kids to the park, then a movie. We ate out at their favorite buffet that evening. When we returned home, I dashed to the answering machine and checked to see if Jen had called. She hadn't. I worked on my sales report after the kids went to bed. That too was a first for me on a weekend. Saturday night was a repeat of the first, near midnight I couldn't wait any longer and called Latrell's number. "Ya?" "It's Ron, Latrell, can I talk with Jen?" "She busy man. Let it rest. None of the other ladies old men call." Then he hung up. Another long, wet, throbbing night. Sunday morning. Again the buffet with the kids. Then we drove to the airport. We were at the gate a half hour before her scheduled arrival time. I was as nervous as a patient laying on a Gurney waiting for major surgery. Then the big grey plane was taxing to the gate. Finally I saw her. She was wearing the same clothes she wore when I last saw her just two days ago. And yet, she was very different. Her walk was sexier, her eyes were smoldering, little things that only I would notice. East St. Louis Cathouse When they kids saw her they broke away and ran to her. Melody, our youngest, was screaming at the top of her lungs, "Mommy, mommy." I let them have their time together. They swarmed her and wrapped their arms around her. I noticed a middle aged couple watch the family reunion. I thought they would smile at what they saw but they didn't, they each shook their head. Then, I could swear I heard the woman say, "disgusting." I soon forgot them because, at last, she was in my arms. Her fragrance intoxicating, her moist lips so inviting, her saliva so incredibly sweet. She subtly pressed her pubic bone into mine, broke the long kiss and looked at me. Without a word I took her bag, held her hand and walked to the garage. In the car I took her in my arms and kissed her again. The youngest kids teased us, Meg said, "mom, dad people can see." We stopped at McDonald's before driving home. After the kids were in bed, she curled up like a kitten on the queen-size bed. I can't remember her kisses ever being this hot, this intense. Then, I touched her breasts and felt the rock hard nipples that seemed twice as big as ever before when she was aroused. It didn't take long for my hand to begin the journey up her legs to her pussy. It seemed as if this was a pussy I had never touched before. I noticed that most of her pubic hair was gone. Just a little strip above her clit. The lips were devoid of any hair and incredibly smooth. All of the stories I had read about women who had fucked a lot men with huge cocks had their vaginas stretched, big gapping holes. Jen actually seemed tighter than I ever remembered. Her clitoris, never bigger than a small pea, was engorged and felt as big around as my little finger. When, my hand came in contact with it she had an obvious and intense orgasm and said, "easy baby, I'm so fucking hot, just touching me will set me off. We have a lot to talk about." We were each waiting for the other to start. Finally, Jen broke the silence and said, "do you want to fuck, let me tell you what happened or both?" The pent up emotions of the last two days were unleashed. I sat down beside her, held her in my arms so tightly I thought I might injure her and, though it was the most difficult thing I had ever done and probably indicated a streak of masochism, I said, "I'll try to hold off for a while. Tell me everything you remember. No detail is unimportant." ++++++++++++ "Okay, here goes." I actually thought I would pass out when I entered Latrell's place. Here I was in a black whorehouse ready to go to work. Well, of course I wasn't really ready but I knew what you and he expected of me. I didn't have time to think for long because Latrell said, "pretty thing let me look at you." I just stood in the entry with my hands at my side as he walked around me rather than asking me to turn around for him. "I could tell you were beautiful when your old man showed me the picture yesterday. I jus gotta tell ya though, that picture sure didn't do you justice." Then he took me in his arms, drew me to him and kissed me. Even in my heels I had to turn my face up and he had to bend his down for our lips to meet. His tongue forced my lips apart and probed at my teeth. Then, I opened my mouth. Our wet tongues tentatively touched, circled and rubbed. We were getting used to each other. I confess he was making me hot. Then, abruptly, he stopped, looked into my eyes and said, "welcome to Latrell's baby. I think this will be a great weekend for you, me and your tricks. Come on, let me show you around." I guess I must have gotten the same tour you did. He introduced me to the other girls and then we climbed the stairs and ended up in my room. When the door closed, he said in a firm voice, "take off your dress sweetheart, you won't be needin it again until you leave." I'm not sure how much time elapsed before my hands slowly and almost automatically began to pull the hem up past my thighs, baring my pussy, my tummy, my breasts and over my shoulders and head. I just dropped it on the bed. "Oh baby, you're making me hard and I've already fucked twice today. Well, let's get with it, lay down and I'll explain things to you as we go along." I just did as he asked but I kept my legs together. The only part of my body he hadn't seen yet was that small space between my legs, oh, and I guess the nape of my neck. His long black fingers explored my body. I was surprised that he didn't start with my boobs or pussy. In fact, he seemed to work around those areas. He touched my arms, my shoulders, my neck, my waist and tummy. Then the kisses began again. I can't lie, I was on fire after fifteen minutes of this. Then, he alternated between my boobs. He kissed all around the nipple. The other nipple, the one that wasn't being treated by his thick lips, was being rubbed. When he took a nipple between his thick lips, he began to tweak the other one with his fingers. I know that I was squirming on the bed. My legs parted without him asking me to part them. My knees bent without him asking. The parting and bending were invitations for him to use his free hand on another part of my body. The black fingers touched the little tuft of hair so lightly I could barely feel it. Then he traced the lips from the hood to the bottom. I could feel myself opening for him. I knew I was oozing. I had to stop kissing him and catch my breath. "Are you doing okay, pretty thing?" "Uh huh." God, I thought, I sounded like and idiot. "I'm fine . . ." Then my mouth was covered once again by his. The fingers that had been touching me so softly parted the bare, warm, moist lips. Just the tip massaged the inner lips and moved up to my clitoris. This time he didn't stop and I couldn't help it I came hard, I gushed. He chuckled. "Oh you sweet, sweet thing, you going to be just great. You really love it don't you?" "I really love it." Then one finger began its entry. I was glad that I had kept up my kegal exercises when he said, "oh you're so tight and wet baby." Again, everything stopped as he stood up. He unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants then pulled his sweatshirt over his head. He could have been chiseled out of a block of black granite. His arms and chest were massive. His waist narrow. I thought he must have been a body builder. Then, I looked down. His chest and arms didn't seem so impressive anymore. Standing at attention was a penis that seemed like it belonged on an animal, not attached to a man. You know that I'm not very good at judging sizes and distances but it had to be ten inches long, maybe even a foot. It was nearly as big around, at the widest part, as a soft drink can. He wasn't circumcised but the skin was pulled back revealing thick wet oozing head. He stepped closer to the edge of the bed and said, "touch it sugar." I reached out cautiously as if his cock was a dangerous serpent. When I touched his penis it actually jumped. My hand wouldn't fit around it. I used both hands but the head peaked out above my fist. "Kiss it." I knew it wasn't a request or a suggestion. Even though I was very turned on, I was mindful of where I was and why I was there. My the tip of my tongue touched the opening, the little slit that was oozing pre cum. Then I took the head in my mouth. I wanted to take as much as I could but Latrell stopped me. "Hold on their baby. I don't want you to get sore jaws. Lay back and spread yourself out for me." I was actually embarrassed. I'm sure I must have been beet-red. I actually covered my eyes with my forearm as I complied with his request. I spread my legs as far as I could and bent my legs. "Open yourself." I felt that I was soaking. Then, I felt his weight on the bed. The outside of his hairy thighs touched the insides of mine. I knew that it was his cock head that was moving up and down my slit, from my clit to my asshole. I really wanted it and by my movements and sounds he must have known that. When he tired of tormenting me, he placed the head at my opening. "You put it in sugar." I took hold of the base of his shaft with one hand and pulled his buttock cheek with the other. It was starting. I caught my breath. Perhaps two inches, three, five. Oh I was cumming. He stopped for a minute and kissed me. Then he continued. I was sure that it would be impossible for me to take every inch of the black shaft but I was wrong. By the time every inch was sheathed by my tissue I was perspiring like I had run a marathon. Maybe running a marathon would have been less of an accomplishment. Then he started moving. Alternating between hard, soft, fast and slow strokes. He was driving me crazy and he knew it. You were right Ron, I was capable of attaining sexual peaks I had never reached. I sensed that he didn't want to wear me out. After all I was an asset for the weekend. After fifteen minutes and countless orgasms for me he stiffened and flooded me. I couldn't believer he had really had sex twice that day. "Baby, clean up and slip into a nighty or something from the dresser drawer. Don't want you to miss any more calls." He was all business. I might as well have been his secretary. The tenderness, and intimacy were history. "By the way," he said, "lose the fur coat." I had no idea what he meant which he must have realized because he explained, "your cunt hair sugar. Make sure the lips are bare with just a tiny bit above. Okay?" Before he left, he showed me the buzzer switch by the door. Almost immediately the buzzer went off. "Shit, shit. You can't make this one but don't miss the next one. Better get busy with the snatch. There's a razor and depilatory in the john." Then he walked out and closed the door behind him. I sat on the bed for a minute and thought I would cry. I felt so very alone. I decided to freshen up, fix my makeup, brush my hair -- the hair on my head -- and take care of the other hair. I had just returned to my room, placed a white negligee over my shoulders when the buzzer sounded. My legs were shaking as I left my room and walked down the stairs to join two of the others. I didn't feel like smiling at the old black man sitting in the chair but I did. I don't think he looked at any of the other girls he just pointed at me. I was like that all that night. I didn't get to sleep until the sun came up and then only for a couple of hours when the buzzer woke me again. Latrell made me keep a trick book so, rather than telling you everything I thought you might want to read it. She went to her tote bag, took out spiral bound composition book and tossed it to me. I opened the book and saw, in her familiar handwriting the following list on the first page: Friday: Straight 1/2 hour 1, Straight 1 hour 2, oral 1/2 hour 3, half and half 1/2 hour 2, half and half 1 hour 4, anal 2, DPA 1 total 15. Saturday: Straight 1/2 hour 1, straight 1 hour 3, oral 1/2 hour 4, half and half 1/2 hour 1, half and half 1 hour 4, anal 3, DPA 1, DPV 1, other 1, total 19. Sunday: Straight 1/2 hour 1, oral 1/2 hour 2, half and half 1/2 hour 2, half and half 1 hour 2 total 7. The list was, for the most part, self explanatory. I asked, "what's DPA?" She actually seemed a little embarrassed as she explained, "that's double penetration. I mean one cock in my vagina and the other in my bottom." "And, DPV?" I wondered. This time she didn't look at me as she said, "that's both cocks in my pussy." I didn't see how that was even possible but I decided to let it go for the moment. "What was the ‘other' category?" "On Saturday night a couple of regulars wanted to see a girl show. Latrell knew that I wasn't interested in women but they were insistent that it be me and Kisha. I finally agreed." She thought that was enough detail to describe the "other" category, I sure didn't. Our fantasies never, never involved her with other women. "Well?" I prompted. "We went to her room, we got undressed she made love to me, you know I mean with her fingers and her mouth." "Did you come? Did you do her?" "Ron, I always come. And yes, I did eat her. I actually came again when I ate her. The guys hadn't planned on participating but I guess the show was just too hot for them. We ended up each fucking both of the guys." Before we drifted off to sleep, Jen did explain the reaction of the middle-age couple at the airport. She told me that Latrell had driven her to the airport in St. Louis. At the curb, he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately. When they broke, she noticed the shocked couple watching them. She shrugged it off. She was surprised to see them at the gate and board her flight to Chicago. Oh well, she thought, there was zero chance that they would be flying to Omaha. But the odds were greater than zero because they did. The cries of "mommy, mommy" must have been too much for them. We haven't decided if this is a lifestyle we want to continue. When we do decide, I'll sure let you know.