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Trophy Wives

By: Trimpostinger



I know this one is long, but the way the plot wove into original sexual situations kept me writing. I hope you enjoy.

*****

Chapter 1: The Arraignment

"Would you look at her?"

I took a sip of my champagne and looked at my friend incredulously. We were in a banquet hall with probably 300 other people. We were all wearing formal wear, and there were more than a few women worth looking at. There was a lot of money in the room, and a decent percentage of it had gone into buying some very exquisite dresses.

Though most men in the room were over 50, the average age of the women was probably closer to 40, with very few at that age and most either in their mid 20's or mid fifties. And the women in their 50's had enough access to money to make sure that modern science kept them looking as young as possible.

Looking at Stephen, my friend, I tried to trace his look back to find exactly which woman he was talking about. My eyes took their time moving down his line of sight. I admit to being easily distracted, and after pausing at some great cleavage only to realize a second later that it belonged to a woman with a 58-year-old face, I understood I had to be more careful. 

My eyes kept moving to find a pair of well tanned and toned legs descending from the shortest skirt in the room. Unfortunately she was attached to a 70-year-old man that wouldn't let her out of his sight. That turned into a theme I quickly saw (and already knew) as almost every gorgeous woman was sidled up to a decrepit old man.

This was a charity function at $5,000 per plate. The only reason anyone would come to this is to be seen as being both philanthropic and incredibly wealthy. In order to become wealthy, you needed time to acquire that wealth. You also needed to put in insane hours and become very demanding of people. This usually didn't mix well with marriage, and so these men either didn't get married or got divorced.

A decade or two later when they had millions of dollars, they didn't care much as beautiful women usually half their age and twice as good looking as their former wives clung to them like velcro. It made Stephen and I a little jealous, not that we didn't have beautiful women at our disposal, but that we had to work for it. I had a beautiful wife, and neither of us had gone past 35 yet, so we still looked good. How we got to this exclusive party I'll share in a minute.

Stephen was also young, but he fell into the multi-millionaire category with the rest of the people here and so women flocked to him also. However, he was even younger than I was, so he still had to work the relationship part of the women. Those that were just hungry for money, married the older men who were likely to die and who were not biologically capable of creating families anymore. Stephen needed to find a woman to be a mother and a wife and stay with him for a little longer than 5-10 years. They were harder to find, and so while he got a lot of tail, he had to endure the break-ups too.

So, it was hard for me to pick out exactly which piece of ass he was looking at now. My eyes scanned past the snack table where my wife stood, playing briefly with the idea that he was checking her out, bu continued past the bar and then across the fountain to the gem of the banquet.

She stood a little taller than the other women in the room. She wore an ankle length gown over her slightly tanned skin – dark enough to be exotic, but light enough not to imply any tanning beds. The neckline of the sparkling white dress dipped just low enough to let you know she could compete with any other rack in the room, yet was high enough to let you know that she had the sophistication not to. The thigh high slit along her right leg let you know she was no enemy of the treadmill. The back of the dress was completely open from her blonde hair down the beginning of her perfect ass such that if it dropped another half inch, you would see another kind of cleavage. With that being the case, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of underwear, if any, she might be wearing. The dress already confirmed that she wasn't wearing a bra, letting anyone who cared to know that her chest needed no extra help to stay up.

The dress did not show the most skin in the room, but with as many girdles, underwires, padding, and surgical implants as this room must have right now, the dress did let you know that this woman needed none of them.

"She was in Maxim a couple years ago," Stephen said once he could see I had found his mark. I was aware of this fact. I owned a copy of that magazine that my wife would never find. I had jerked off to that magazine on more than one occasion.

"You know," I began. "If you want to really get into the real estate business, I might be able to get you a deal on a certain bridge in Brooklyn."

It wasn't worth my time to explain why she was unattainable. I knew Stephen knew who she was and to whom she was married.

This charity ball was for being thrown by Howard Steller. He owned the hotel in which this banquet hall was located. He owned many, many other hotels. He was easily the richest man in the room, if not the state. He was also married to Jessica Kinitz-Steller, former NFL cheerleader, former Victoria's Secret model, former Maxim Model, and who had a standing one million dollar offer from Playboy if she ever felt her husband's millions weren't enough.

"It's not that outlandish," Stephen insisted, taking a sip of his drink and ignoring my doubting stare. "All these old guys have arrangements with their hot young wives. I mean, look at those two." He motioned to the couple I had noticed earlier with the woman wearing the incredibly short skirt clinging to the arm of a 70+ year-old. I looked further up her body to see her impossibly thin waist and incredibly large (and incredibly fake) breasts.

"Do you think he keeps her satisfied?" Stephen asked. "There's no way. That guy probably has just enough blood flow to get up once a month, and then maybe only for five minutes if he has enough Viagra pumping through him. You think that will keep her happy?"

"I think his yacht and Ferraris keep her happy," I said.

"So when she gets revved up tooling around in a fancy car, or gets all oiled up to lay out on his yacht, how does she satisfy her other desires?" He paused to take another sip but then answered his own question before I could. "They bang the pool boy and the gardener. And you know what? The old guys know it, and they don't care. As long as their trophy wives come with them to banquets like this and wear sexy nighties to bed and walk around during the day in bikinis and give them a blow once a month, they don't care what else they do. Besides, if they don't let their wives fool around with other men, then those women are just going to find another old man who will. Trust me, it comes with the territory."

I wondered if I should ask him how he knew, but I guessed I already knew the answer. He had undoubtedly played his part as a "pool boy" or "gardener" once before and heard the story. I looked across the room at Jessica laughing it up with a few men, and then to the other side of the room where Howard stood talking business with some associates. I shook my head. Yes, Howard was 64, but he was a fit 64, and I doubted he would want another man fooling around with his wife.

However, I was uniquely close to the man, and he had told me about many of his health problems. He always related them to me in a fatherly sort of way, trying to prepare me for what was to come, but because of that advice, I knew he had his sexual problems. It made me wonder what that kind of marriage would be like. My wife and I had watched porn together and had read the erotic stories where couples lived in an open marriage. We joked about it and thought about it, but we never pushed it any further than that.

I had also read about the men who liked to watch their wives with other men. I didn't really understand that pleasure completely, because it seemed like a jealousy fit waiting to happen. Watching someone else enjoy your wife was supposed to be a power trip. They were getting something that you could have any time you wanted, and once they were done, he wouldn't get it again, but you would. It was like letting someone borrow your sports car so that when they gave it back and told you how amazing it was, you could then say, "Yes, I know. Now go get your own."

The more I thought about this, the more I thought Howard fit that mold. I couldn't see him letting his wife sleep with other guys whenever she wanted, but I could see him picking certain guys for her, and then watching them together.

"What I wouldn't give to have one night with her?" Stephen's fantasy brought me out of my contemplation for a moment.

"What would you give?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"What would you give for a night with Ms. Maxim?"

He looked at me, suddenly sobered up, trying to determine if I was serious. "I would repay your admission to this banquet," he stated.

That was pretty generous - $10,000 for my wife and I, as far as he knew. This is where I should probably explain how I was even there, since my wife and I were easily the poorest couple in the room. Together we maid 6 figures a year, but we knew we would never pull down 7 or 8 like some of the people in the room.

I was a lawyer, at least that is what my business card said. And, for most of the time, I was a real estate lawyer. That was how I knew Stephen. He started flipping houses right out of college. After a few years at it, he was doing several deals a month. He needed a good lawyer, and I was it. He went from flipping houses to flipping motels to flipping hotels. That was how he knew Howard. They had done a few deals together, which I had overseen.

To Howard I was more of a gopher. I did a little legal work for him when he needed some paperwork, but mostly he gave me odd jobs. I had been a head hunter, finding him several of his current employees; I had prevented the condemnation of one of his older hotels until he could fix it up; I had helped him with his divorce, his will, and his prenup for his current marriage; I had even coached his grandson's little league team.

My wife and I got into this banquet hall for free. She was a psychiatrist and she always left these things with half a dozen new clients. She asked me to try to get free invites to these dinners as often as I could, and once I let Howard know, I had a life time free pass to any banquet he threw.

"It's worth 10k to you?" I clarified to my friend.

Stephen chuckled. "Kevin, you're out of your league here. I know you have skills, and I know you and the old man are close, but you can't do this." Stephen had started using me for odd jobs, but our friendship made payment for those jobs difficult. It was nothing for Howard to sit down and write me a 4-digit check, like he was paying me for mowing his lawn, but Stephen, actually being a couple years younger than I was, made it weird.

"I only have two questions for you: Do you have your checkbook, and are you wearing clean underwear."

Stephen shrugged his shoulders. "Yes and yes."

"Whatever happens tonight," I prepared him, "you and I never talked."

"Deal," he laughed and we shook hands on the arraignment.

He nodded his head and raised his glass to me as I walked off. I spotted my wife again to make sure she would be busy for a while, and I saw her fishing for a business card from her purse. She was doing her thing, and I knew I had at least fifteen minutes.

Howard was now by himself at the desert table trying to find the lowest calorie piece of cake he could. He was still in good shape by my eyes, but everyone looked good in a $2,000 tux. I knew he swam laps every day in his pool, and I had been at his house enough to see him in his trunks. I'm sure he was in better shape in his youth, but even if he wasn't a killer in bed anymore, he had a handsome enough face that Jessica wasn't just with him for his money.

He spotted me ten feet off and had a powerful handshake waiting for me. "Mr. Taylor, you're looking well tonight. Your wife and you having a good time?"

"Only the best," I replied, raising my glass to the host. "I assume Jessica is enjoying herself as well?"

"Always, though who knows with whom."

I grinned. This was going to be too easy. "Do I here a twinge of jealousy in your voice?"

Howard laughed. "Those men are no competition for me, young man."

I knew the men he was talking about, but I moved to stand beside him so we could both face his beautiful wife. It would help if he was looking at her throughout our conversation instead of me.

"No one in this room is," I complimented him.

"Present company excluded?" he asked for clarification.

"I would never dream of it," I replied. I had actually dreamed of it quite often.

Howard laughed. He knew that every warm blooded male that had seen his wife dreamed of her. He then paused in thought. If I had learned any psychology from my wife I would bet that he was thinking if his wife ever dreamed about other warm blooded males.

"I'm sure you keep her happy," I interrupted. I used the word "sure" instead of "know" because I wanted that seed of doubt to be planted.

"I hope so," he replied, allowing that seed to grow. "I wonder sometimes if she doesn't want more, though."

"You trust her?"

"Impeccably. She loves me too much to fool around."

"Why would she?" I needed him to vocalize the reason.

"She's a flesh and blood woman in her prime. I should give her more."

"Then give her more."

Howard looked at me, and I needed all my skill to interpret that look. It was stern, but every look Howard gave anyone was stern. If it was too stern, I needed to stop right now. But I saw the hint of a question in his eyes, and I continued.

"It's wrong if she goes out and looks for it, but is it so wrong if you give it to her?"

It was time for Howard to talk, and I waited for him.

"You've heard of the 'arrangements' that other men in my position have in place."

I nodded my head and smirked. "Garbage," I replied, knowing his likely feelings on the subject. "There is a big difference between giving your wife your credit card and telling her to get something nice for herself and going out and buying something yourself so you can give it to her."

"Have I ever told you that I like the way you think," Howard smiled.

Again I could see this man's mind working. As I predicted, he was a man who enjoyed having power over a situation. The scenario as I described it gave him the power and it gave his wife satisfaction. And there would be no question who was providing that satisfaction. It wasn't her going out and getting it for herself and it wasn't some guy giving it to her. It was Howard providing for his wife.

"But, like I said before, she won't do it. She loves me too much."

I shook my head. "Don't think of it that way. Ask yourself if she loves you enough to do it."

"I don't follow."

"Tell her this is something you want. You not only want her to be happy, but you want to experience that happiness with her. You want to watch. You want to relieve your youth with her. It would make you extremely happy to see her experience the pleasure you know she wants. You can even play it off as a fantasy of yours that you want her to fulfill. If she loves you as much as you say, she will do it."

"What guy would agree to this?"

I laughed. "You underestimate the attractiveness of your wife."

Howard gave me one of his stern looks. "What guy would let me watch?"

"You don't tell them," I answered. "No guy, if they knew you were watching, would put forth the same effort toward your wife as they would if you weren't watching. They would have stage fright and perform worse than you ever have."

"So they will think my wife is a whore?"

"On, one hand, what do you care what they think? On the other, who says you can't tell them afterwards. They will understand they were used, and any ideas of giving your wife a call back will disappear from their mind. You will impose your control on the situation."

"But how does one go about setting this up?" Howard sounded frustrated. I could tell the idea greatly appealed to him, but he couldn't put the dots together. That is what he paid me for.

"You are not going home tonight, are you?" It was rhetorical. "This is your hotel, and I am sure you are staying in the penthouse on the top floor. I've seen the room. There is a large walk-in closet. There are two bathrooms. There is a balcony. Each of these offers a secretive vantage point that gives visual access to the whole room. You can go and have a talk with your wife, pick someone here tonight, and go upstairs to your room to wait for her to bring them up."

Howard nodded through the whole process, thinking on how he would present this to his wife. And then I saw his mind get to the part where it has to be presented to the guy. I stepped in.

"This also gives your wife a chance to play the seductress. Lie to the man to get him upstairs, or tell him the truth. If he is hesitant, your wife gets to work her charm. If he is bold with her, thinking he is taking something from you, that just allows you to slam him harder at the end of the night when you let him know you were in control."

Howard nodded, agreeing with everything I said; however, there was one key issue that had yet to be unaddressed. "If I am to do this tonight, who would I pick? Most of these men could not satisfy their own wives, much less mine."

"Not everyone you know is an old fart," I laughed. "There are at least a few single good-looking bachelors in attendance tonight." Actually, I could only think of one.

"Is your friend Stephen Barkly here tonight?"

This was too easy. It took all of ten minutes to earn my ten grand. "I think I saw him here earlier. If he hasn't spoken to you yet tonight, he probably hasn't left yet. I'm pretty sure he's not seeing anyone right now."

Howard was half listening to me, half scanning the crowd. He saw Stephen after a few minutes talking to some other real estate guys. "Son," he said to me, "if this works out, I owe you. I'll be in touch next week."

I watched him walk briskly toward his wife, and I downed the rest of my champagne glass and went in search of my own woman. As much as I wanted to watch my plan unfold, I did not want in any way to be implicated in what was about to happen. If anyone saw me watching Howard and his wife and then Jessica and Stephen, people might realize Howard had just been talking to me. If something went south, Howard would not blame me, but others might. I just decided to enjoy the rest of the evening.

Chapter 2: The Penthouse

Unfortunately, my plan to get my friend laid was thought up on the spot. I didn't have a way to get me into the penthouse or to mount cameras or anything else. But what I did have was an eye witness who owed me $10,000 and a story.

The banquet was on Friday night, and the next day, Stephen called and insisted that he take me out to dinner that night. I okayed it with Peggy, my wife, and she said she was thinking of going out with friends anyway.

Stephen was able to make money in the house flipping business because of his attention to detail, and he left none of it out as he recounted the story to me over a $200 steak dinner.

* * *

Jessica sauntered up to Stephen as he was talking to men who were as close to being his peers as he could find. They were 40-something businessmen whom Stephen had done deals with before. None of them were old enough to have their own trophy wives and they all stopped and stared when Jessica walked into their midst.

"Excuse me gentlemen, but I need to talk with Mr. Barkly for a minute."

The men stumbled over a few responses as Jessica smiled at Stephen, grabbed his upper arm, and pulled him several paces away. Her ample chest was pressed into his side as she whispered sharply into his ear. "Howard needs to see you upstairs in five minutes. Here is a key to the penthouse." She pressed the small elevator key into his hand. "Do not be early. Do not be late. Bring a bottle of champagne."


Trophy Wives



With that, she moved away from him, dragging her body against his arm as she walked past and toward the exit of the banquet hall. Stephen's breath stopped. Could this really be happening? Had his friend really just pulled off the hook-up of the century? He remembered the last thing Kevin had told him: "Whatever happens tonight, you and I never talked." As far as Stephen knew, he was just going upstairs to have a business meeting . . . with a bottle of champagne.

Stephen didn't waste any time. He excused himself from his friends and walked toward the bar. "Howard Steller requires an unopened bottle of champagne." Stephen knew the magic words and was given a bottle without any questions.

Stephen had not been up to the penthouse of this hotel before and didn't know exactly how to get there, but he knew where the front desk was. After a couple minutes to get out of the banquet hall and into the main foyer of the hotel, a desk clerk directed him toward a bank of elevators that would take him all the way to the top assuming he had a key.

With a minute to go, Stephen stepped into the appropriate elevator and pressed the button for the penthouse. The digital display on the wall prompted him for a key and he obliged. Within seconds he was whisked straight up the 50-story hotel to the best view in town. The doors opened at the top with a loud ding and he stepped directly into the penthouse, or at least a sitting room for the exquisite suite.

"Stephen," the call came from through a couple batwing doors, "come in and give me a hand."

Stephen obeyed and stepped through the doors into the enormous room beyond. It was an impressive suite. There was a billiards table to his right with a full wet bar on one side and several couches and recliners set up in front of a giant HD TV on the other. In the middle a round table that could be converted to a poker table easily stood under a huge chandelier. There was a hot tub for eight against the far wall with an open door to a bathroom that looked bigger than most kitchens. The bed was set in the corner with a curtain that could section it off from the rest of the room if there were guests. Next to the bed on the near wall were the sliding doors to the balcony which was large enough for a half court game of basketball and over looked a city filled with lights.

The best feature of the room stood in the middle with her back to Stephen and her hands up at her neck fiddling under her blonde hair. "Could you help me?" she asked without looking around. "These stupid dresses are always so hard to unclasp."

Stephen didn't need anymore encouragement. He walked up to her and placed the bottle on the large round table beside her. "Thanks," she said and leaned forward, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Stephen now had to lean over her back to reach her neck, and he stepped forward. Her ass pressed hard into his lap as she flexed up and down, feeling out his quickly hardening member.

Stephen was also having difficulty with the clasp, but he would have difficulty undoing velcro clasps at the moment. Eventually he got it and watched as the entire front of her dress fell down. "Thank you very much," she replied and stood up again. There were no zippers on the form fitting dress, and the rest clung to her hips like a body suit. She was still facing away from him, bare to the waste as she reached for the bottle.

"My husband promised me the fuck of my life tonight," she said, working at the cork. "Then he got a call and left me with a room key and told me not to wait up for him." She popped the cork toward the hot tub and then took a swig from the bottle. She turned to face him with the bottle still in the air and her breasts bare to him. They had to be D-cups.

She lowered the bottle with an obviously full mouth and closed in on the frozen Stephen. With heels she was his height and placed an extremely wet kiss on his mouth, drooling champagne between them. "So I'm not waiting for him." She pulled away, her breasts glistening in the low light of the room as she poured a little more champagne on herself.

"Take of your clothes and come lick me off."

Stephen didn't need much more incentive than that. As Jessica put the bottle back on the table for now and worked on shimmying out of the rest of her dress, her new boy toy work on his clothes as quickly as he could. He gave up on most of the buttons and just pulled the shirt over his head. In front of him, Jessica had the dress past her hips finally and it fell easily to pool around her narrow, shapely legs. She stood in heels and a tiny white thong as she watched Stephen fumble with the last of his clothes. Her legs were slightly apart and the view of her barely covered bush and the curve underneath toward her ass almost made Stephen lose his balance twice.

He stopped his strip when he got to his black boxer briefs, seeing that she still wore her underwear, if you could call it that. Seeing that he was done, Jessica picked up the bottle and turned around to walk toward the hot tub. Her balance was statuesque in her heels and Stephen was entranced by the sway of her perfect ass. The straps of the thin thong were pulled high on either hip to avoid the slit in her dress, and they met extremely low in the back just at the start of her crack.

Stephen followed like a puppy dog and watched closely as she high stepped one leg into the elevated hot tub, trying to catch a glimpse between her legs, but the thong still covered her. The tub was empty, and Jessica sat on the upper edge at a narrow end of the rectangular bath so she could lean her back against a mirrored wall. She placed the bottle on the quartz top into which the tub was sunk, and her hands rubbed her wet breasts and massaged down to her crotch and spread her legs as wide as the tub allowed.

Stephen stepped in as well and knelt before the goddess between her bent knees. "Have a drink," she offered, picking up the bottle again and poured the bubbly liquid over the tops of her breasts. Stephen leaned in resting his arms on her thighs and sticking his tongue into her navel. He watched as the pink champagne flowed around her breasts, joining together over her sternum and splashing down to his face. He slurped it up thirstily as his hands swept up her side to catch the rest of the liquid and pulled it up to massage back into her breasts.

Jessica put the bottle back down and put both hands on the smooth quartz to lean back and give Stephen access to her perfect tits. His hands worked her breasts, massaging the sticky fluid all over, taking time to roll her erect nipples between his fingers. His mouth moved up as well, licking every inch of her firm stomach up to the bottom of her rib cage. He paused to look up from his position, enjoying the view. Jessica's back was arched, lifting her breasts into the air. The reflection off the wall behind her gave him a perfect view of the tops of them as well, and he didn't wait any longer to lick them clean.

His mouth tried in vain to suck a D-cup into his mouth as his tongue flicked back and forth over her nipple. His left hand went to work on her right breast as his mouth was forced to clean off her other mound in sections. He sucked hard on the bottom of her breast, her nipple slipping up and down under his top teeth. He felt a shudder run through her with each flick of her tit as his tongue continued to work its way under the huge breast.

Slowly he worked his way up, curling his tongue to catch her nipple in its crease. He continued to suck the soft tissue in and out, forcing her tit to fuck his mouth. She moaned louder now, occasionally throwing in a "Yes!" Stephen didn't need the extra encouragement and moved to the other breast.

He needed to really stretch his back and neck to reach up to the tall woman's chest as she was sitting on the edge of the tub and he was kneeling in the bottom. His hands wrapped around behind her as he continued to lap up her body, and he pulled her hips toward him. She allowed the motion and was soon sliding down the angled side of the tub until she was sitting on one of the molded in seats. Their hips were now at the same level, and Stephen pressed his bulging underwear into her damp thong as he now reached for the bottle.

The bottle tilted up briefly, filling Stephen's mouth with the bubbly potion, and he leaned forward for a kiss. He tried to contain the liquid as their mouths opened to each other and their tongues mimicked what their hips were doing. Eventually the champagne was swallowed, but their kisses didn't get any dryer. Their mouths attacked each other with an unrivaled hunger, their tongues exploring the recesses of each other's mouths.

Stephen's hands once more pulled her hips forward as he fell back into a sitting position in the center of the huge tub with his legs in front of him. Jessica sat on his lap, grinding her covered pussy into his restrained cock with the help of gravity. She was above him now, and he resumed licking her succulent breasts. Jessica threw her head back and continued her moans and cries.

She stopped abruptly after a couple minutes and pushed back on Stephen's shoulders to look him in the eye. "I need your tongue inside me now!" She stood before him, and Stephen worked back to his knees. He spent a few moments licking her pussy through the thin fabric of the thong, watching her knees quiver under the attention. "Stop fucking around and fuck me! Fuck me with that hungry tongue of yours!"

The thong was around her ankles in a flash, and Stephen pushed her back to where she had been sitting originally on the edge of the tub. She spread her legs and Stephen went to work. "Oh, yes," she said from the start. "Suck me hard. Suck that pussy. Suck it dry."

Stephen did as he was told, his tongue exploring every crease and crevice between her legs. He darted into her hole and then came up to suck hard at her clit. She was talking to him the whole time, her thighs shaking on either side of his head. He didn't notice her hands moving until he felt a familiar liquid trickling over his tongue. He glanced up and saw her slowly pouring more champagne in her navel.

Stephen licked up to her clit again and began to slurp the liquid off her sex, making a sound like someone finishing an icy drink with a straw. It was like having a bubbler right on her clit, and Jessica nearly dropped the bottle in shock, sloshing most of the rest of the drink on her stomach, which Stephen sucked up quickly.

He could tell she was close now and worked hard on her clit with his tongue. His right hand reached up under his chin to put three of his fingers in her pussy. His wrist and mouth worked together and he could feel the woman beneath him building to a climax.

"Oh yes, you fucking stud! Take me there! Come on! Come ooohhhaaaAAAHHH!" She wasn't a squirter as much as a gusher. Stephen though for a moment that she had found another bottle of champagne, though this was hot and far sweeter. He opened his mouth to catch as much as he could, but trying to keep his lips on hers was like trying to catch a fish with his bare hands. Her hips bucked and swayed as her vocal cords had their own orgasm. His face was covered in her thick, sweet juices in seconds, and her ass lost its purchase on the edge of the hot tub. She slid down as her body continued to go through its convulsions until her face was once again level with his.

Thirty seconds after it had started, Jessica regained enough motor skills to smile at him. "Looks like I made a mess."

"I'm not complaining," he replied, smiling back.

"Let me get that for you." She leaned forward and began to corral her cum with her tongue, not swallowing any of it but coming down to Stephen's mouth to feed it to him off her tongue. They enjoyed long wet kisses for a minute or so until Jessica had gotten most of it cleaned off. "Now I need you to fuck me proper."

She stood again in the tub and stepped out slowly, this time giving Stephen a perfect view of both holes at once. He wondered if he would even last long enough to fuck her as he felt his cock stir in his boxer briefs. It was still worth a try, though, and he quickly followed her out of the tub as she walked naked across the room, still wearing stiletto heels. She did not stop at the bed however and continued past it to the sliding doors that led out onto the balcony. "Leave your underwear in the room," she said, looking back briefly as she turned to open the door.

Stephen obeyed, and as he stepped out outside, the cool night air constricted his balls. The impending orgasm he had felt earlier was put out of mind for a moment, and he wondered if she had planned that. The balcony was huge with a dozen deck and lounge chairs spread across the space with a few glass tables and a 4-foot railing around the edge to protect the potential guests from a nasty fall. Stephen felt suddenly on display as he saw several building around them with lights on in the upper floors. There weren't any taller buildings on this side of the hotel, but Stephen was smart enough to know that if he could see their windows, they could see him.

If Jessica was at all intimidated by the exposure she didn't say anything. Instead she went to a unique chair that looked more like modern art than furniture. It looked like a wave with a small crest for the legs and a much larger crest for the back. She stood by the chair and looked at Stephen with an expectant look on her face. Stephen was too busy looking at the rest of her though. Her breasts didn't sag in the slightest and her nipples were as hard as ever in the cool air. Her natural blonde hair was tossed over her bare shoulders by a slight breeze and her legs were slightly spread to let him she her full pussy lips stretching beneath her.

"The view is better from up close," she teased, and Stephen made his way over to her. She motioned to the chair and he took a seat. It felt like he was sitting on a wave too, as both the back and legs flexed under pressure making him feel suspended and weightless. He thought it was odd that there were no armrests until Jessica straddled him so her legs were where the armrests would be. She smiled at him, letting him enjoy this unique view for a few seconds before she sat down on his hard cock.

Stephen's girthy seven inches slid easily into her lubed hole. She felt great inside, and the athletic women showed off her invisible muscles as well and she moved up and down slowly, squeezing his erection with amazing strength. Stephen's strong hands held her hips to aid in her motion, speeding it up and watching her breasts bounce freely on her chest. Each time they bottomed out she screamed up into the open air.

The chance of being observed gave Stephen a bit of concern, effectively distracting his mind from the orgasm that should be ready to blow. His eyes glanced toward the railing, but now that he was much lower on the balcony than before, he could only see a couple lighted windows. His eyes darted back as the curtains rustled by the sliding doors, and then they went up as a helicopter flew over them.

Jessica was oblivious to commotion around them and had a singular focus. After several minutes of bouncing in the vertical position, she leaned forward with her hands braced against the chair on either side of Stephen's head. A pair of perfect breasts now bounced directly in front of his face, drawing his attention back to the matters at hand. His hand cupped her ass as he followed her movement.

Jessica smiled at him as she saw the tell tale signs of an impending orgasm on his face, and she quickly sat up and stepped off him. "Don't you cum yet. I want you to fuck me in front of the world."

Stephen didn't understand until he watched her walk over to the railing and grab onto the top bar. She bent over slightly and with the help of the heels she still wore, rolled her ass up to face him. It was a great view, not only of the beautiful woman, but of the city lights below. Stephen got up and walked over to her, fighting a slight feeling of vertigo as the city opened up beneath him. He was a bit light headed from the sex and champagne, and now he felt a bit of stage fright.

"What are you waiting for?" Jessica asked.

Stephen's erection had softened a bit from the cool air and the vast city below, putting his impending orgasm on hold once more, but as he focused on the bare back and spread ass before him, he stiffened up again. Her long legs and heels allowed him to slip his cock underneath her without squatting at all. He felt her aroused clit and then slid back along her slit before pushing deep inside her again. He hit the right spot and got a moan out of Jessica.

The motion was all his now, and Stephen spared nothing. Her tight ass allowed him to bury himself up to his balls, and they slapped hard against her clit with each thrust. Stephen reached forward to cup her breasts as he thrust and she stood up to give him better access. He left one hand to play with her tits and sent the other one down to massage her clit.

"I'm going to cum soon," he whispered into her ear as he watched her mouth open and close in silence, her vocal cords finally unable to express themselves under this multiple point stimulation.

"I want you to shoot it all over me in front of everyone," was her gasping response.

That comment alone was enough to send Stephen over the edge, but he managed two more thrusts before he pushed down on her shoulders to let her know to change positions. Stephen's whole body quivered as he held in his load, watching Jessica squat with her back to the railing. His hand was shaking as he released the first stream with a grunt. His aim was bad and the breeze caught it, and it sailed passed Jessica's head, through the bars, and out over the city.

His target reached up to grab his spurting cock and correct his aim for the second and third bursts which landed on her upper chest. Stephen quickly lost the ability to support himself on his own and reached out to hold onto the railing, leaning over the naked woman before him. Jessica milked his cock for a few more deposits on her tits before she was sure he was done. She kissed his still engourged head a few times and slapped his ass.

"I'm going to clean up a bit. Come into the bathroom when you're able to walk again." She slipped out from under him and clicked her heels as she walked back into the room.

Stephen took a moment to catch his breath and slowly straightened his body as he stared out over the city. There were still plenty of lighted windows looking up at him. Most of them had their curtains drawn and he didn't see any faces in the ones that weren't, but he wondered how long it would be before pictures of them would show up on the internet.

He turned around and walked back to the room on unsteady legs. The sound of water running from the shower guided him into the bathroom and he saw Jessica standing outside the stall, waiting for the water to heat up. Her heels were finally removed and sat on the floor. He took a seat six feet away from the shower on the edge of the raised jacuzzi tub that was almost as big as the hot tub in the other room.

Jessica stepped in and chose not to close the sliding glass door. Stephen watched intently as the gorgeous woman in front of her sent her hands roaming all over her body, rubbing the steaming water into her toned skin and rinsing off his cum and any residue champagne. She was obviously putting on a show as she spent way too much time on her breasts and blonde bush, but Stephen wasn't about to complain.

Eventually she reached for the liquid soap and bath sponge. Stephen sat up and leaned in as Jessica proceeded to lather up her whole body very slowly and then let the water peel back the layers of suds. His penis had lost its erection while he was still on the balcony, but it had never gotten small, and it was starting to wake up again. Stephen continued to watch the show as his hand dropped into his lap to coax some life back into his member.




Trophy Wives



Jessica was doing her part, slowly dragging her sponge over her ever erect nipples and letting the fingers of her other hand explore an apparently very dirty spot between her legs. She looked over toward Stephen and saw that he was working to get up for her again, and she smiled at him. She did one final rinse off and then turned off the water. She stepped onto the fuzzy bath mat and then toweled off in as exotic a way as possible.

Stephen was definitely on the road to recovery, but having orgasmed just five minutes ago, he was still a little ways from being ready for penetration. Jessica felt she was dry enough, and she left the towel on the floor and walked back toward the room. "Follow me."

Stephen did as he was told, a common theme this evening, but one that had served him well. The bed was now finally brought into play as Jessica stood beside it and motioned for Stephen to have a seat. He sat down on the edge of the bed and had his hopes answered when the naked woman knelt before him. She took his semi limp penis in her hands, and he spread his legs so she could lean into the edge of the bed.

Her tongue snaked over the head slowly, tasting the mixture of flavors from the previous activities that evening. She went up, down, and around, cleaning off any pussy juices that remained and moistening his shaft. On her trip back up, she spread her glossy read lips and took him inside her mouth. She sucked on him hard, her tongue pressing him up against the roof of her mouth.

Her hands did not get involved, and Stephen guessed that she wasn't worried about tiring out her mouth as she was only going to get him hard so she could have another ride. He tried to think about something else to stay soft, but if he closed his eyes, he could only imagine the busty blonde sucking him down to his balls. The real life image was better, and he just gave up and embraced the amazing feeling as he watched her work.

The full erection returned after a few minutes, and Jessica graced him with a few extra lip smacking sucks before she stood up. Stephen scooted back on the bed as Jessica climbed on all fours to get on top of him. While he enjoyed the view and from below, he was feeling a bit emasculated by this woman since she was giving all the directions and she was always on top. While he knew that Kevin had arranged this and it had nothing to do with him or what he wanted, he still felt like driving at least this last portion.

Jessica sat down gently on his new erection, moving slowly at first to be a tease. Stephen would have none of it. Instead, he reached up to her narrow waist and rolled her over with his strong arms so he was suddenly on top. She cried out at the sudden change of position, but didn't complain. In fact, she began to shout her approval as he rammed her from above.

"Ooooh, yes! Fuck me hard!"

Stephen obeyed, not listening to her words, but focused on making her breasts bounce as hard as possible. In his brief time on his back, he had seen there was a mirror above them, and he straightened his body as he thrust ahead so she could see the full reflection of his cock penetrating her.

Stephen noticed her eyes pointing up at the reflection and her right hand snaked down to investigate the drilling. He fingers played with her clit while she focused on her breathing. Stephen felt he was a long way from an orgasm yet, and didn't relent, slapping his tool into her as hard as he could. He rolled her legs forward to get a better angle for a few thrusts and then straightened one leg to change it up a bit more. He finally found the G-spot as he sat down a little further so his thrusting was parallel with her spine.

"Ohh, ohh, ohh!" was the confirmation he got that he had found the target. And he nailed that spot for all he was worth. His hands held her hips tight and pulled them back into him with each thrust to emphasize it. "Uhahh, uhahh, ohhhAHHH!" she couldn't find words anymore, and her sexy chanting was starting to have its toll on Stephen's stamina.

"Ohhh, oohhhh, oooohhhhhaaAAHHH, Fuck ME!"

Stephen leaned forward at the last second in order to keep from being thrown back. His hands grabbed for her breasts and he hung on for dear life. He managed to stay inside her despite her orgasmic gyrations, and as he felt her warm fluids gush around his cock, he began to lose control as well. He drove himself hard, prolonging her spasms and soon added his own.

"Yes, give it to me! Give it to me!"

Stephen obeyed his mistress one last time and gave her a second helping of his thick cream. The two stared into each other's eyes as they rode out their orgasms for what seemed like minutes. In the end, Stephen collapsed on top of her, completely out of breath.

Chapter 3: The Story

"Wow," was the only thing that came to my mind as Stephen relayed this story to me. I looked down at my cold steak realizing how engrossed I had been with the story. I hoped it tasted good reheated on my grill at home. "That story is amazing."

Stephen was looking at his cold steak as well and decided to leave it and focus on the red wine. "I can't thank you enough," he added.

"Of course," he continued. "After we had recovered, cleaned up and got dressed, she took me downstairs to the hotel bar where Howard was waiting for us. I can't remember what we talked about though. He bought me a couple drinks and told me that he had arranged tonight for his wife and him. He had been hidden in the room the whole time and must have slipped out while we were getting dressed in the bathroom. He told me not to think this would ever happen again and not to tell anyone."

Stephen took another drink to try and recall anything else of importance. "I think we talked for a while more, but I had a couple glasses of scotch and barely remember how I got home, though I think he called me a taxi, because I had to go back and get my car this morning. All I do remember is thinking that it was the best $10,000 I had ever spent."

"You haven't spent it yet," I reminded him, knowing that 10K to him was a drop in the bucket.

"Oh, right, of course, I'm sorry." He pulled out his checkbook and proceeded to write the 5-digit number in question. "If you have any trouble cashing this let me know, and I'll do a wire transfer."

"I shouldn't have trouble," I said, folding the check in half and putting it in my pocket. "My bank is used to large check deposits from me because of my work with Howard."

"I will say this," Stephen said leaning back. "I will never doubt your abilities again."

"To ingenuity," I raised my glass to him and he accepted the toast.

* * *

Driving home from the restaurant with my porterhouse in a styrofoam container beside me, I couldn't get the images from Stephen's story out of my head. It wasn't hard to picture Jessica naked as I had seen her sunbathing by the pool or swimming laps on my numerous visits to the Steller home. And while I had obviously fantasized about her, Stephen's descriptive story went beyond anything I had imagined.

I began to wonder if I couldn't have set something up for me instead. I shook my head at the thought. Howard would have thought less of me if I had offered to cheat on my wife. That made me think of Peggy. Was I that much worse off? Was she a model? No. Could she be? I didn't see why not. There are subtle differences between beautiful women that make one a top line model and another just pretty. Most of it was attitude. Jessica clearly had that in excess. My wife had her moments, but she was far less outgoing and daring. Her dress the other night had shown little cleavage or leg. She had it to show, but she was also there in part for business, so she had been modest.

Comparing the two women, I didn't see much difference. My wife wore a 36B bra, while Jessica was a 34D. If I understood bra sizing correctly, a 36B was the same breast mass as a 34C, meaning Peg was only a little smaller. But my wife was a push-up bra away from being a 36C, and since I don't even remember the last time I had seen Jessica in an outfit where she was wearing a bra, it was a wash.

Jessica was perhaps 10 pounds lighter than Peg and she was two inches taller, but my wife had that extra weight in her butt and thighs, where I liked it. I liked her full round ass better than Jessica's, and her thicker thighs gave me something to spoon with at night. Jessica's more toned body might be good to look at – hence the modeling career – but I like something more tactile.

All this thinking was making me horny as in my head I began to replace Jessica with my wife as my mind played out the scenes Stephen had described. Unfortunately, my mind forgot to exchange myself for my friend, and I nearly ran a red light as I imagined Stephen fucking my wife in the penthouse suite.

Eventually I got home, and seeing an empty garage, knew my wife was still out. She better get home quick, I thought, because I needed to have sex in a bad way. A message on our answering machine said she would be home around 9, which was only a few minutes away. I had just enough time to stash the steak in the fridge, brush my teeth, and put on her favorite aftershave before I heard the garage door open. I quickly peeked out of the window to make sure she was alone in the car and then went downstairs to meet her.

The door from the garage opened and she stepped in. "Hi honey, how is-" was all she got out before I was on her. She had probably been at a club with her friends, because she was dressed up with a button down blouse and a short skirt. My fingers went between the buttons of the blouse and I ripped it open, sending buttons flying around the room. I had 10k to buy her a new one later.

She had a white, lacy push-up on, and my hands palmed her full breasts as I locked my mouth on her aghast lips. My tongue went in her mouth, and as I pressed my body against hers to let her feel my hard on in her stomach, she decided to forget about her confusion and responded to my passion. Her hands went up under my untucked polo and began rubbing my back as I massaged her breasts and tried to touch her tonsils with my tongue.

I had her pinned against the closed door and shifted my hips so my knee could slide up between her legs. I managed to push up her skirt and my hands left her breasts to grab her ass. I lifted her up and she appropriately wrapped her legs around me, squeezing hard against my taut jeans. My hands were on her bare ass, and I recognized she was wearing one of her cheap thongs she used to accompany some of her tighter skirts to avoid panty lines.

I sat down with her on the couch, our mouths still locked in an ever increasingly passionate kiss. Once we were safely down, she let go of my body and shrugged her ruined blouse off her shoulders. I was in the process of ruining another piece of her clothing and found a loose seem on her thong to rip at. After a few sharp tugs, the thong fell away from one leg, and my fingers reached down to finger her quickly moistening pussy.

Peg reached down between us to unzip my jeans and then fiddled with my boxers until my dick sprang out of my pants. It was hard to do with our lips still locked, but she managed just fine. We had to release our kiss momentarily As I put pressure beneath her to raise her hips a bit so I could slide into position beneath her. She responded, and let out a gasp as I penetrated her wet snatch.

She bounced up and down for several good thrusts to make sure I was inside, flopping her lacy tits in my face, and then, recognizing that I was pretty much ready to pop when she had come in the door, she slowed down and brought her face back to mine. We kissed for about five minutes solid, our tongues like mating snakes in our mouths. Down below I flexed inside her and she squeezed her response.

I felt my balls constrict, and I knew that even without much stimulation, I was going to have a pretty powerful orgasm that I could not hold back. As smoothly as possible, I picked up my wife again and slid off the couch to kneel on the floor. I laid her down on the carpet next to the coffee table and gave her five good, boob-shaking thrusts before my nuts exploded inside her.

She craned her neck to look, but her skirt covered everything up. I spurted three or four times and then lost the strength to stay up and collapsed on top of her. Peg didn't say anything for a while and just cooed softly as she rubbed my back as my head lay on her breasts.

"Story?" she finally asked after several minutes.

I didn't pick up my head from her chest as I explained myself. "Stephen had a story of conquest to tell me, and it got me wound up."

"Does he have a new girlfriend or was it just a one-nighter?"

"The latter," I explained. "He picked up an unsatisfied trophy wife last night and had a very wild evening." I thought if I tiptoed up to the truth it would be safer than weaving myself into a web of lies. Remember, I'm married to a shrink.

"Is he going to get in trouble?" she asked back.

"No. The husband was okay with it. In fact, according to Stephen, he watched the whole thing."

I could "hear" Peggy smile. "Ah, the infamous open marriage discussion."

I did pick up my head now and turned to look at her. As I moved, I felt my limp penis fall out of her, and I quickly got up before I dripped on her skirt. I pulled a few tissues from a box next to the couch and handed several to my wife and cleaned off myself with a few more.

"Not exactly," I started to explain as I zipped up. Peggy sat up as well and staunched the flow of semen from her vagina with the tissues I gave her. She sat cross-legged on the floor in her skirt and bra as I talked. "An open marriage is where either partner can have limited sex with someone else. This is different. I've heard it explained as an 'arrangement' that these older men have with their younger wives that they can have sex with others under certain guidelines. Some want to watch, others just want to know who it is. No women are lining up to have sex with the old men, so it isn't the same as an open marriage. They do it because they can't keep their own wives satisfied so they rely on a rent-a-dick."

She chuckled at the crude classification of my friend. "And so you drove home and imagined yourself in Stephen's shoes, screwing some hot young wife."

"Always trying to paint me as the bad guy," I smiled back at her. "But if you must know, yes, that was my original thought, but I quickly realized that I was the one with a hot wife."

Peg had gotten to her feet, and pulled a few extra tissues to further clean my voluminous load as more drained out. "So you imagined setting me up with other men so you could watch?" she asked as she tossed the tissues in the trash.

"Not intentionally."

"You mean you did?" She stood with her hands on her hips, her breasts quivering at her outburst. I couldn't tell if she was mad or just shocked.

"I said, 'Not intentionally,'" I clarified. "I had these images of Stephen boinking this woman, and when I swapped you for the woman I forgot to get rid of Stephen."

"You imagined me having sex with Stephen?" She sounded almost intrigued with the idea. I filed that piece of information away for another time.

"For like three seconds, and I almost ran a red light when I did it. I was quick to imagine the two of us in a hot tub slurping champagne of each other's naked bodies, and thus the greeting you received."

"Champagne in a hot tub?" Again my wife looked interested. "Stephen lives an interesting life."

I had nothing to say to that. We stared at each other for a few moments before Peg broke the silence. "Well, if you'll excuse me, this little encounter has left me wanting, so I will be upstairs with the buzzer. Once you've recovered your strength, if you would be so kind as to join me, I wouldn't mind a second ride."

My wife swished her hips around, showing off her bare ass under her skirt and climbed the stairs toward our bedroom. With that parting shot it wouldn't take me long. I went downstairs and found my hidden Maxim mag with Jessica in it. I spent a few moments thinking about her and Stephen, then about Jessica and I, and then about my wife and I. I topped of the fantasy by imagining my wife with Jessica, and my dick sprung back to life. I knew I was too soon for Peg to be done upstairs, so I gave that last fantasy a bit more play and then went upstairs in search of more sex.

Chapter 4: The Thank You Kiss

The phone rang Monday morning as Peg and I were having a late breakfast. She didn't keep normal office hours and only went in when she had appointments. I worked from home, so I didn't keep any office hours. It was Howard.

"Good morning, Kevin," his voice sounded chipper. I hoped there wasn't any fallout from Friday night. Stephen didn't mention anything, but he also admitted to being pretty drunk afterwards and probably wouldn't have been able to tell if Howard's stern demeanor was extra stern.

"Hello Howard."

"Are you busy this morning?"

I looked at my watch. It was a little after ten. "I have a closing at one and another at three. Other than that I've got nothing."

My wife got up from the table, motioned to her watch and then mouthed, "I love you," and left. She had an appointment at 10:30.

"I was wondering if you could come over this morning. There's something I want to discuss with you."

Howard lived about 20 minutes away. Figuring an hour for a round trip and maybe another hour for what ever he wanted to talk about, I could be back home around noon which should give me just enough time to get changed and make it to the closings. My other option would be to go straight from Howard's to the closings, but then I would have to wear a suit. I looked outside at the warm summer day and didn't like that idea. Our business together was rarely that formal.

"Yeah, I think I have time to stop by. Do you need me to bring anything?"

"No," Howard said, "just something I want to talk about."

Based on our last discussion and the situation I arranged for him, I was hopping he wanted something more elaborate. It probably wouldn't involve me, but it might get me another story afterwards, and the sex Peg and I had had on Saturday night was the best we'd had in a while.

"Okay, I'll be there in half an hour."

"See you then." He hung up.

I was still wearing the boxers and tank top I had slept in, so I changed into a golf shirt and shorts. As I walked outside to my car, I realized it was going to be a hot day with minimal cloud cover. Maybe I would get lucky and Jessica would be sun bathing when I got there.

* * *

Twenty-five minutes later I was pulling up to the mammoth Steller estate on the circle drive that looped in front of the main entrance. Bertha, the elderly maid, met me at the door. "Mr. Steller is out back by the pool." I nodded, unable to contain my hopeful smile.

I knew the way, and the maid left me to take care of her other responsibilities. I walked through the foyer, past the kitchen on my left and the dining room on my right, and down a few steps into a small den that emptied out onto the back patio. The pool glistened in the sunlight, and I was not disappointed.

Jessica was lying on her stomach in a reclined pool chair by the deep end. She had the back tie of the top of her thong bikini undone to avoid tanlines, giving me a nearly complete view of her back side. As I approached I also got a great side view of her breasts as they were smashed into the chair. Her head was turned the other way, so I didn't have to steal glances at her, but I quickly saw Howard sitting at the other end of the pool, watching me approach, so I didn't push my examination of the sunbathing beauty. He was a man of control, and he would decide to what level he was going to share his wife.

I walked the length of the pool toward the shallow end where Howard sat under the shade of an umbrella protruding from the middle of a round glass table with two frosty beers and a folded beach towel. He wore the same type of casual clothes I did. "Okay to drink in the morning?" he asked. Popping the top off of one of the beers and taking a long swig.




Trophy Wives



"I think I'll be okay," I replied, sitting in the chair on the other side and picking up the beer. The chairs were facing the pool, not each other, so I was left with a feet first view of Jessica across the water. I took a long drink from my beer and looked over at my prospective employer.

"We'll go upstairs in a minute," he said. "I just wanted to enjoy the morning a bit before it got too hot. It's supposed to hit the mid 90's today."

He never turned to look at me, so I found myself looking back across the pool, hoping his wife would turn over absentmindedly. "I hope the air conditioning is working at the office downtown. It has its bad moments."

"You keeping busy then?"

"Not too busy," I was quick to clarify, not wanting him to deflect any potential business. "But enough work to keep a house over our heads."

"Your wife is doing well too?"

I heard the question, but my attention was now riveted across the pool. Jessica had pushed herself to her knees suddenly, not bothering to retie her top first. She stood slowly, keeping her back to us and stretching her arms over her head.

"I said, 'Is Peg doing okay too?'"

My eyes shot back to my host across the table. "Uh, um, yes, she's good." He was still facing the water, though with a distant look toward his large garden beyond the pool. It was possible he hadn't noticed what had distracted me.

The sound of a splash got my attention back to the pool, and I saw the ripples where Jessica had dove in. She was swimming toward us and the water was crystal clear. The slight distortion of her moving through the water made it tough to see the thin straps of the thong she wore, and it looked very much like a naked woman swimming underwater.

"She doser ring whore orc him, douche?"

"Um, uh, what," I asked for clarification, not really understanding a word he had said, as I saw Jessica surface briefly, only her head and shoulders poking out of the water before she turned around and swam back.

"She doesn't bring her work home, dose she?" he repeated.

"Uh no, not really," I turned to look at him as I spoke, trying to pry my eyes away from the tempting siren. Was she toying with me, or was she just being extremely casual? She had never been like this before around me, but then I had never caught her topless before either.

"I mean she occasionally catches me trying to exaggerate or tell a white lie, but she doesn't psychoanalyze me." I heard Jessica surface at the other end and then the rippling sound of her going back under again, but I didn't turn to look. Instead I took another long pull at my beer as I saw Howard was nearly done.

"Well, you should always tell your wife the truth," he said, finally turning to look at me. "Never keep a secret from your wife." He had his stern face on, and he finished off the last of his beer. He stood from his chair but motioned me to stay seated.

"I'm going to go up to the office, but why don't you stay down here for a minute to finish your drink. My wife would like to say thank you for the other night, and then you can come up to see me."

"Thank you?"

Howard didn't respond and was already walking away. Water noise louder than before drew my attention back to the pool, and I saw that Jessica had surfaced much closer to my end. It was shallow enough for her to touch, and she stood with her shoulders out of the water. Her arms were needlessly treading water before her, causing ripples to hide the front of her body, but it didn't matter that much as she slowly started walk toward me.

"Thank you," I repeated quietly to myself. His words about being honest to your wife echoed in my head and I called out to him. "Howard, I . . ." but the old man had moved quickly and was already back in the house.

"Don't worry about him," Jessica said. My eyes went back to her and saw her fabulous nipples clear the water. Droplets formed at her tits and dripped gently back into the pool as her wet hair drained down her body. Both her breasts were completely out of the water a second later, and the view didn't get worse as her tight stomach and pierced navel followed.

She was at the base of the steps that led out of the shallow end and only ten feet from me. She slowly climbed out of the pool, water running off her legs from the hips. The yellow bikini bottoms had a tropical print that complimented her tan perfectly, though there was barely more than a couple square inches of fabric in total. "Don't worry about Howard. I want to say thank you for the other night. Your meeting with him can wait."

Clearly this was okay with her husband, and I had dreamed of this moment before, but thoughts of my wife wouldn't leave my head. I stood up from my chair and fumbled my beer back to the table. "But I'm married."

"I just want to give you a thank you kiss," she said innocently, now completely out of the pool.

"Just a kiss?" I asked, half of me wanting more, the other half feeling guilty. My eyes went up and down her amazing body and my penis began to push noticeably against my shorts.

"Just a kiss," she repeated. She took a few quick steps toward me, pinning me to my chair. I was taller than Stephen and Jessica wasn't wearing heels, so her forehead only came to my chin. She pressed her wet body against me, so I could feel her firm breast soaking through my shirt. Her wet hands were on my butt, and her suit was soaking the front of my shorts. She was crowding me so much that there really wasn't room for me to lean forward to get my kiss. She went up on her toes, dragging her wet tits up my shirt and leaned in. I tried to step back, but the chair was in the way, and I sat down suddenly.

"Oh," she exclaimed as if she hadn't planned that. She looked down at me and frowned. "I got you wet."

In more ways then one, I thought as my dick continued to harden. She tossed her head like she was a dumb blonde who didn't realize she was soaking wet and her breasts swayed with the motion. "You can't walk around with a wet shirt on."

She sat down on my lap, her thin legs going opposite of mine and easily sliding under the high arm rests. "Come on," she urged as she reached her hands around my back, "let's get this wet shirt off you."

Just a kiss, I thought, right. She pulled me toward her as she tried to reach down to my back waistband, shoving my face into her breasts. They smelled like sunscreen and chlorine, but that didn't prevent me from licking a nipple. She pushed me back by the shoulders and looked down at me. "Hey, who's supposed to be kissing whom?"

She laughed to herself and then went back for the bottom of my shirt. Her large breast was again in my face. She played at struggling to release my tucked in shirt, and swayed back and forth, dragging her hard nipples across my face. I snared one with my lips and sucked it into my mouth. The soft tissue pulled easily passed my teeth and my tongue played with her hard nub.

"Hey," she said again, but didn't push me away. "That feels good." Her hands had finally freed the back of my shirt and they wetn up under the fabric to rub my back and pull me into her. My hands did likewise, first going to her wet ass for a good squeeze and then sliding up her bare back to hold her close. She arched her shoulders against my hands, lifting her breasts and I sucked them hard.

We sat like this for several minutes, me slobbering over her breasts while she moaned softly and ground her wet suit into my crotch. I could feel my erection pushing into the soft lips below and knew that the moisture down there wasn't just because of her. Eventually she tugged up on my shirt, forcing me to raise my arms so she could take it off. She slid back off my lap and walked a short ways to another chair to drape my shirt off the back so it could dry in the sun.

Watching her move was amazing. I was no longer throwing her tentative glances worried someone might be watching, instead my eyes paid close attention to the sway of her hips and breasts. Her long legs moved gracefully all the way down to her bare feet and sexy toes. When she bent over (unnecessarily) to hang my shirt, I marveled at the tone of her upper legs and ass. It was like a Buns of Steel video. She turned to walk back, and my eyes focused on the small patch of fabric that covered the only part of her fabulous body that still remained hidden.

"Now, about that ki-" she paused as she looked at my lap. The khaki shorts were not as restrictive as a pair of jeans might be, and I was pitching a very visible tent. Apparently she wanted me to believe that wasn't what she was looking at. "I got you pretty wet down there too." She followed my eyes and looked down at her suit. "I am such an airhead," she observed, playfully slapping her forehead. "I just got out of the pool and I sat on you with a wet suit."

She dropped both hands to her hips where the string bikini bottom was tied. With an easy pull of her wrist, both bows were undone and the thong was dropped to the pebbled surface around the pool. "Is that better?" she asked coyly.

I didn't have a voice to respond. She turned around so when she bent over she gave me the best view so far. Her shaved pussy lips looked like a tight clam shell between her legs as she flexed her ass at me. I wanted to get up to run my finger through that slit, but my knees were too weak to move. She held the pose for much longer than it takes to pick up the suit she dropped, but I wasn't about to complain.

Eventually she stood back up and walked over to hang the bottoms on the arm rest of the chair where my shirt was. She sauntered back, hypnotizing me with the sway of her hips and the neatly trimmed blonde patch between them. She walked up to the side of my chair and reached over me to grab the folded towel that still lay on the table. Her breasts hung in my face again, but I was more focused on the upper thigh that was pressed against my armrest. All I had to do was raise my fingers a few inches and they would be able to . . .

She leaned back after getting the towel and dropped it on the ground at her feet. She knelt down and smiled up at me. "Now let's get the wet shorts off you so they can dry." I didn't fight her as she reached up to the buttons of my shorts to undo them. She had to grab my tent pole and move it around like a gear shifter to unzip my fly. "Looks like I soaked through to your boxers too," she said. "I'm sorry. We can dry them both."

She pulled both off in one motion as I leaned on the armrests to lift my butt. I wore sandals, and she easily pulled my clothes of over them. She pretended to pay no mind to my prick as it sprung out from my waistband like a jack-in-the-box. Instead she walked over to the drying chair to arrange the rest of my clothes.

My eyes went from her to my dick, not able to fathom the idea that it might soon be inside her. I suddenly knew a bit of Stephen's emotions the other night. He had described to me how she had dictated everything and was in complete control. He didn't let on if he was as nervous as I was, but he might well have been.

I watched my cock slowly leak my precum in far more volume than I ever remember before, such that it ran down the side of my shaft instead of just glistening at the head. Jessica was standing back in front of me noticing the same thing. "So how much of that wetness was mine, and how much was yours? It seems like getting you dry is a never ending task. And all of it just so I can give you a thank you kiss. Well, I'll see what I can do."

She knelt down on the towel again and pushed my knees apart as she leaned in. She pulled on my hips and I obliged by scooting forward on my chair until my balls were hanging off the front. "I know a good way to dry you off," she grinned. She put a hand on the outside of each breast and then lowered them on my dripping cock. I had never fucked a pair of tits before and the view was amazing.

She rubbed her breasts together over my dick like she was trying to roll a cigar between them. The precum and sunscreen together acted as a good lubricant and it felt great. It didn't exactly have the desired effect, as my cock just pumped out more of the thin, milky fluid. She alternated breasts, rubbing the top of my leaking head, wiping me clean and then massaging it down the shaft as more came out for her to get with the other breast.

"Maybe I should just try to get it all out," she said, and began to bounce her body up and down on her knees, sending both breasts up and down the whole length of my shaft. The sensation wasn't as intense as a blow job, but the visuals more than made up for it, and I thought if she kept it up that I might be able to cum just like this. As it was, my precum was starting to collect on her breasts and drip down her stomach.

She leaned back away from me when she felt the trickle on her skin and frowned. "Now you are getting me all wet." She used a finger to wipe up the white trial and the brought the finger to her mouth. "Mmmm, maybe I'm doing this all wrong." She bent down to my cock again, but this time with her mouth.

She analyzed the throbbing piece of hot flesh for a few moments, watching as more precum pumped out. She brought her lips to the tip of my dick and slurped off the fluid, like someone sucking at the top of a glass that had been filled too full before picking it up to drink. She did try to pick it up too, her right hand grasping at the base and pulling hard. I was slick enough to for her to slide right up, and then back down as she began to pump me with her fist.

She got more white fluid out of me and slurped it right off. She did this a couple more times before she changed strategies. "Getting a little at a time is going to take too long. I need it all at once." With no more warning than that, she popped her head all the way down on me till I felt myself in her throat. I nearly exploded in her right there, and don't know how I held on as she bobbed down three more times. My mind had orgasmed in my head several times already, but my body was complaining about not receiving enough stimulation yet.

Jessica understood this and her hand came back to the base of my cock and with her mouth right above it she moved them together. She drooled slaiva on me, making me even more slick (wasn't she supposed to be drying me off) while her lips, tongue, and fingers worked together. Her wrist used a twisting motion as her tongue did laps around my head as well.

As if she could feel the building orgasm at the base of my spine, her rhythm increased to match the potential strength of my explosion. My eyes went from her mouth to her breasts as they flopped up and down on her chest. My legs began to shake as the effort to hold my essence was becoming harder and harder. She had done this before and read the telltale signs perfectly, increasing her motion and splaying her fingers against my pubic hair with each down thrust so she could take my into her throat again.

"Uhhuhhuhhgg," I groaned involuntarily as I couldn't hold on anymore. She was on an upstroke and she pulled her mouth off me just in time to catch the first huge stream on her upper lip. I watched as some of it got in her nose and she pulled further away so the second shot arched onto her chest. The third stream only had enough pressure drip down onto her thighs. She began stroking me again with her hand to coax the last of it out during the third shot, and I clenched my muscles to hold on to the rest, but like stopping a piss in mid stream, it wasn't easy. I held on for only a few seconds, and her hand got the last burst out all at once, spraying more cum onto her chest.

I hadn't realized how tensed up I had been as all of my muscles suddenly relaxed and I slumped further in the chair. "Is that all then? Are you dry yet?" She leaned in as if she was taking to my penis. Her right thumb reached down to the very base of my shaft and pulled up the rest. Her tongue was poised at the tip to collect it all and then drooled it out of her mouth. She leaned back again so it dripped on her covered chest. Her left breast actually had a thick stream that was dangling from her nipple like a tassel.

"Looks like I'm all wet now," she said. "I don't suppose you want your kiss with me like this?" I shrunk away from her cum covered mouth, and she chuckled. "I didn't think so. I guess it will have to wait for another time." She rocked back on her heels and stood up. A string of cum was now forming on her right tit as well. "I guess I should go clean up. Howard is probably waiting for you upstairs."

I watched as she walked over to pick up her thong bottoms, cum running down her body, and then my eyes followed her as she walked back to the far side of the pool to pick up her top. She never looked back at me as she entered the house, no doubt going for the bathroom that stood right off the den.

I sat in the chair for a while, trying to get my breathing under control. I had made the comparison of this woman to my wife, and I had to admit to myself that there was no comparison. Appearance wise, I still thought it was a narrow gap, but their attitudes couldn't be more different. Peggy had given me blow jobs before, but never like that. She had gone about it as if it were a task to perform like doing the dishes or changing a light bulb. She had never teased as much or played as much as Jessica had just done.

I always got the impression that Peggy didn't enjoy giving me head, so I didn't ask for it very often and she didn't do it very often. Part of me wanted to believe that Jessica had enjoyed that as much as I did, and that dual enjoyment had made it that much better for me. Plus the foreplay leading up to the orgasm had really helped to put my body in the right frame of mind. With Peg she would usually just lead my upstairs, pull down my pants and go to work. I don't ever remember her stripping for me first or letting me play with her breasts.

Strength was slowly returning to my limbs, and as I moved about I realized that I had sweat quite a bit despite the shade of the umbrella above me. My dick, now soft, also had a few drops left that Jessica hadn't got. I stood on shaky legs, slipped off my sandals, and walked over to the pool. The cool water felt good, and my limbs began to loosen up. I worked all the excess cum from my penis, watching as the white fluid turned into mist and then disappeared in the clear pool water. I was in the shallow end and dunked my whole body in up to my neck a few times and then got out.

The towel Jessica had kneeled on had been spared any of my juices as she had kept her legs together. I picked it up and toweled off, realizing for the first time that I was naked outside at someone else's house. I knew there were servants about, and I quickly got myself as dry as I could and put my clothes back on. They hadn't completely dried, but they were dry enough to wear.

A few minutes later I was upstairs in Howard's office. It was a large room with a huge desk that faced a fireplace that had a flat screen hanging on it. Bookcases lined the walls with a few reading chairs in the corner. A large window looked out of the back of the house, and as I walked in, I saw that the pool was very visible from up here. Howard didn't pay me any attention as I walked in and was focused on his computer. I sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk and waited for him.

"Did Jessica say thank you?" he asked without looking up.

"Uh, yes, yes she did." I played briefly with the notion that he did not know what had just taken place, or at least the extent of it. The fact that his wife was topless had to have been obvious to him, and perhaps she had told him that she was going to give me a kiss, but did he know everything? Had he watched from this room?

"Good, I'm glad you two got along." He looked up at me finally. "She was very excited after Friday night, and I have to admit I was too. That night changed our lives forever, and I hope it was for the better. After we had said goodbye to all the guests, we went back upstairs and had the best sex since our honeymoon, and we owe it all to you."




Trophy Wives



"Really, sir," I said, holding up my hands. "I didn't do anything. I'm hardly the first person to think of this type of arrangement, and all I did was give you the idea. You still had to execute it."

"Regardless, without you talking to me on Friday, none of it would have happened, and my wife would still have been unsatisfied with no recourse but to cheat on me. She loves me twice as much now, and we feel more secure because of it. We both owe you a lot of gratitude."

"You're welcome," I finally said, giving up on trying to deflect the praise.

"To show you how much it meant to me personally, I wanted to give you this." He reached under his desk and pulled out a small flat box, about 6 inches on each side and only two inches tall.

I reached over to take it and saw a tag hanging from it that said, "To Kevin and Peggy."

"Thanks," I replied.

"You might not enjoy it as much what Jessica gave you, but I hope you and your wife share it."

That made me think of something that had bothered me about the whole situation. "Sir, why did you tell Jessica that it was my idea? It don't know why it would even come up."

"I didn't tell her," Howard answered. "Your friend Stephen did."

I was dumbstruck. "What?"

"He had a few drinks in him afterwards when we took him to the hotel bar. Jessica asked him if he had enjoyed their evening together and he said that it was the best $10,000 he had ever spent. I knew he had come alone, so his entrance fee should have only been $5,000. I asked him what he meant. He then told us that he had paid you $10,000 to get my wife to sleep with him."

All the color had drained from my face.

"You pimped my wife," Howard said, his face extra stern. "Jessica doesn't quite see it that way, but she isn't as protective of her body as I am. She's modeled and made companies lots of money, so she is used to others profiting from her, and she enjoyed the night too much to be mad. I, on the other hand . . ."

He didn't need to finish. I couldn't meet his eyes and my gaze fell to my lap where my present sat. What could this be?

"Open it," he said.

I took the lid off the box and looked at a non-descript CD inside a clear case. "This is what you have," he said and picked up a remote and pointed it over my shoulder. I turned and saw Jessica sitting on my lap as I feasted on her breasts. My hands grabbed her ass and she eventually took off my shirt. Howard pressed another button on the remote and the picture disappeared. "I think you know how it ends."

I swallowed hard. Of course he would have video surveillance on his property, and he obviously knew everything we had done. I didn't have anything to say. I looked again at the tag on the box: To Kevin and Peggy. Howard had said he wanted me to share this with my wife.

"We have lost a level of trust between us," Howard continued. "You approached me Friday not innocently but with a very devious scheme that involved whoring my wife to one of your friends. You wrapped it up in such a perfect package that I didn't even notice what you did. I shouldn't be surprised. I know how good you are."

Howard took a drink of water from a bottle on his desk. "You have two saving graces in all of this. You and I have a history, and it is a good one. We go a long way back and you have always done good work for me. I don't want this to end that. Secondly, I meant everything I said when you first walked in here. You did open our eyes on Friday and we now have a brand new sex life which would not be here if it were not for you. I just wished you had not been so duplicitous about it."

"The video?" I held up the box, fearing the worst.

"That will be our new symbol of trust. I need to know I can trust you from here on out, and that will be the way we do it. There are two ways you can regain my trust. Go home and show that video to your wife and explain everything. I'll need undeniable proof that she's seen the video and then you are off the hook. I understand that might be too hard, and while you did cheat on her without her knowledge today, I can see how you might think of it as entrapment."

He took another drink. "Second is that you keep that video in your house at all times exactly how it is in that box with the tag on it. You may hide it, but I will occasionally show up at your house and if at any time you are not able to produce that video for me in a minute, I will show it to your wife. After significant time has past, and you have done more honest work for me, I will give you permission to destroy it. Until that time, it stays in your house. Understand?"

I nodded my head. Basically it was blackmail. Well, sort of. He realized that he had lost control for a moment on Friday night. I had been the one pulling the strings, and he felt a bit emasculated by that. This was his way of reasserting his control over me.

"That's all," Howard said. "I believe you have some closings to get to." I looked at my watch, and while my time at the house hadn't taken an hour, my time was short anyway.

I left the Steller estate in a daze. What was I going to do? I didn't want to live with this video in my house. My wife was cleaning all the time. I could burry it in boxes in the attic, but I believed Howard when he said that he would show up at my house and demand to see it within a minute. I had to keep it very accessible. It would be better if I just showed it to her instead of her finding it without me to explain it. But I couldn't think of a good way to show it to her. "Hey, honey, guess what I did today?"

I tried to shake all the concerns out of my head. I was in a fix and I needed to get out. I could do this. This is what I was good at. However, for the next 6 hours I needed to focus on work. I could handle this tonight.

Chapter 5: The Solution

Dinner conversation that night was pretty mundane to start. I listened to Peggy talk about her patients while I reminisced about my horrible day. It was hot, and the air conditioning in the downtown office had not worked. I had sweat so much in my suit that I thought about throwing it away after I got home. Half of the sweat came from the heat, the other half from what hung over my head from this morning. I thought a good place for the video was next to the Maxim mag I had of Jessica. I thought it only appropriate.

"Honey," Peggy said, startling me back to the conversation I had been ignoring. "What's running through that head of yours? Something has you flustered."

If you ever want to live a secret life, don't marry a shrink. "I was just thinking about stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Sex," I replied honestly. "Saturday night was great." My wife had to nod at that observation. "And I got into that mood thinking about sex with other people."

"I thought you said that in the end you were imagining you and me in the penthouse drinking champagne off each other."

I nodded. "Yes, but I said what started it all was hearing about Stephen's adventures. Eventually, I ended up thinking about you, because I know that is what I have. But when I entertained the fantasy of me with Stephen's girl and then you with Stephen, those excited me too."

"You know we've had this conversation before," she said. "We are both intrigued by the idea, but we don't know how to do it, and neither of us is willing to name anyone we would want to have sex with."

"Then let's name someone. Fine, we don't know how to do it, but if we can't think of anyone to do it with, it really doesn't matter. If we can throw names out there and each of us is okay with it, then that is a starting point."

"Who goes first?" she asked.

"I think I'll be less jealous, so you go."

"Explain that comment first," Peg said.

"Women are always jealous of each other. You're always worried about who weighs less and who has bigger boobs and who has a flatter stomach, so if I pick someone who you feel threatened by, then you won't agree. But if I have already approved your pick, then you will have to eventually accept one of mine."

"I guess," she agreed.

"So?" I prompted.

I could tell my wife still didn't think we were going to go through with this, so she didn't see any real harm in throwing out a name. "Stephen."

I couldn't think of anyone else she might pick other than one of the husbands of her friends who I didn't know very well. But that would have really put a strain on her friendships. I was pretty sure Stephen and I could survive this one. "You know he has been with a lot of women?"

"Do you think the fact that he knows his way around a pussy is going to deter me?"

"Point taken."

She smiled. "So you approve?"

"For now," I said. "We just need to think about it all first. I'm sure you'll be thinking about Stephen and about whomever we agree about for me. If by the end of it you are more excited about sleeping with him than you are apprehensive about me sleeping with who I pick, then we can talk."

"Who's the psychiatrist here?" she laughed. "Okay, so who do you pick?"

"I have a list," I said slowly. My wife rolled her eyes. "I figured you could pick one."

Peggy shrugged her shoulders.

"Christine Kinner," I said and waited for the explosion. I wasn't disappointed.

"Christine Meyer-Kinner?" my wife clarified. She was the woman with the very short skirt, anorexic body, and fake DD's that had been on the arm of the 70+ man at the banquet. "You find her attractive?" My wife was repulsed by her as I expected her to be. Not that I wouldn't want to se her naked, but it was a set up pick.

"She's on the list," was all I said. "How about Kimmy?"

"My Kimmy?" she asked. Kimmy was one of her few single friends. She was overweight and had very small breasts. She had a cute face, but I had no plans on bedding her. "Are you going to take this serious?"

"Okay. I pick Jessica Steller."

Now my wife flat out laughed. "Done," she said. "I don't even have to think about it. If my husband can arrange with one of the most powerful men in this city to sleep with his wife, who happens to be one of the most beautiful women in the world, he gets it."

My wife was not exaggerating as there were several websites who had Jessica ranked in the top one hundred for the most beautiful women in the world. Ironically, most had her in the upper fifty and said she wouldn't move down until she did a nude photo shoot. Having seen what the world had been missing, I couldn't agree more.

"So you agree?"

"Are you sober?" my wife asked. "Why don't you pick Marilyn Monroe while you're at it?"

"So you don't think I can pull it off?" I asked.

"Let me tell you this. If you have sex with Jessica Steller, you can have a freebie."

"A freebie?"

"You can sleep with anyone you want, and I can't say no."

I liked this for obvious reasons. "So, now we set it up?"

"Sure," she agreed, barely containing her laughter.

"Are there any rules?"

"I thought this was all your idea," my wife said. "Hasn't you magnificent mind already thought this through? Besides, I don't think I want any rules. I know I don't want any restrictions on my magical night with Stephen."

She was having way too much fun with this. "So anything goes?"

"It's sex, honey. You can have sex. Any type of sex. Have her do all the nasty things that I don't want to do. That's the whole point. However, I think you said before that we should be able to watch each other. I think I like that. If this is to be a turn on for both of us, I don't want to rely on your exaggerated story telling to find out what happened."

"I'm good with that. So, you're going to think up a way to get Stephen in bed?"

"You can go first," Peggy smiled. She didn't think I would be able to do it and then this whole idea would die. She was very wrong.

* * *

Tuesday afternoon I finally got a hold of Stephen after having left countless messages.

"What's wrong, dude," I heard him through my cell phone. "You've left me like ten messages in the last 24 hours."

"You screwed me, that's what happened!"

"No, man, you forget. I screwed Jessica Fucking Steller."

"You're not the only one," I said, and then told him my story.

"Aw, Kev," he said after I was done. "I'm sorry. I told you I was drunk. But, hey, look on the bright side. You got a blow job from one of the hottest women on the planet. I didn't get that."

"Count my lucky stars," I replied sarcastically.

"Oh, don't act so happy. I know your mind. You have a way out of it, don't you?"

"Yes, and it involves you screwing my wife." I told him the story.

* * *

I waited until Thursday to continue my plan. I don't think my wife would have believed that I was able to set up a sexual encounter with anyone in less than 24 hours.

My wife actually brought the topic up first. "Any progress on the "I want to Bang a Super Model," pilot," she said at dinner. "I hear NBC is interested."

"Funny you should ask," I said. "I talked with Howard today."

"And . . ."

"I'm having sex with his wife tomorrow morning at 11:00am."

Peggy didn't really know what to say. I could tell she still didn't want to believe it. "And exactly how did that conversation go? How did you convince Howard Steller to let you have sex with his wife?"

"Don't mock me," I said. "Remember, your going to have to think of a way to bed Stephen."

"I thought I would just show up at his door and ask if he wanted to fuck."

I shrugged. Knowing Stephen, that was all it would take.

"So let me hear the conversation."

I recounted to her as best I could the conversation that I actually had with Howard on Friday night. I edited it a bit to account for the fact that we weren't at a banquet, but it was very believable, as it should be since it actually happened.

"So when he said he liked the idea, but didn't know how to set it up or with whom, I told him that you and I had the same dilemma. We were intrigued by the idea of an open marriage but didn't know how to set it up."

"You are a sneaky bastard," my wife said, her face a bit crestfallen that I had been able to pull it off.

You have no idea, I thought. "I led him for a few more minutes until he volunteered that we help each other out."

"Does this mean I have to have sex with him?" Peg asked, a bit distraught.

"No, no, no," I was quick to say. "He only wants to watch."

"Good, because so do I. Is he okay if I …" her voice trailed off as she realized what happened tomorrow at 11:00. "Son of a bitch! You did that on purpose. You know that I am in court tomorrow at 10:30. And you know I can't move it."

Yes I did know that. My wife did some consulting work for the DA, and she had to appear in court on occasion. She could always have moved around any personal appointment, but she couldn't miss the court date.

"I tried to have it on Saturday," I said, "but he has a house full of people all day on Saturday, and he is out of state all next week."

"Then push it back two weeks," she said.

"Howard is pretty much taken control of this one," I said, and my wife knew what that meant. "He wants to do it tomorrow, or he will find someone else to do it with."

"Then I guess it's off," Peg said with a smug look on her face. "The rule is that I get to watch, and if I can't, then no dice."

I nodded my head. "The rule is you get to watch, but we never said it had to be live."

"What do you mean?"

"Howard is going to tape it. Howard wants to tape it. He said I can have a copy of the tape afterwards."

"I . . . but . . we . . ." she had nothing to say, and I knew I wouldn't have to argue anymore. She did some marriage counseling, and trust and honesty were the cornerstones. We had laid out the rules, we had both agreed, and I had followed them, sort of.

"So . . ." she finally started, a grin slowly returning to her face. "Tomorrow is movie night?"

"And I believe you know the star of this feature."

"Don't flatter yourself," she laughed. "If you are in a sex video with Jessica Steller, you are the co-star."

We both laughed.

Chapter 6: The Video

The next day was a good one. I was happy to see the sun out and shining because the film I had already shot required it to be a sunny day today. Peggy commented that she thought my clothes were awful casual for going to have sex with a super model. I agreed, but unfortunately my wardrobe appeared in the video, so I had to wear the same shorts and shirt.

We exchanged "I love you" when she had to leave, and she told me to have fun. I sat at the kitchen table and let out a long sigh. This ordeal was finally about over. Little did I know that it was only just beginning.

* * *

I had a few appointments in the afternoon, but I decided to leave home at 10:30 anyway. I was so close to getting this behind me that I didn't some casual conversation with a neighbor in the next few days to reveal that I hadn't left the house today until around noon. I had lunch, made my appointments and then headed back home.

It was 4:00 and I had already talked to Peggy today and she said she wouldn't be home until 8:00 and that I should eat without her. We had talked at 2:00 and she didn't even mention Jessica. I was beginning to get worried about the video too, because I hadn't actually watched it yet.

I put it in our DVD player and had a scary few moments when I didn't think it would even play. It did, and it started earlier than I thought with me walking into the picture and sitting next to Howard. It was taken at a very good angle, and it was easy to believe that he had planned it that way. When Jessica came out of the water, you could see the front of her clearly, yet you could still see the wetness on my shirt and shorts and could clearly see my erection. Also, when Howard got to his office, he had manually controlled the zoom, and our widescreen TV showed 50 inches of my cock in Jessica's mouth.

I had a memory of resisting a bit at first, but if I had, it didn't show up very clearly on the tape. Also, there was no sound, which I was grateful for, because if there was, I would need to do some explaining about why they needed to thank me. It ended a few seconds after Jessica left the scene while I was still in the chair. After all, Howard had needed time to make a copy for me before I got upstairs.

I watched it a couple times and was tempted to jerk off to it, but I didn't. I ordered Chinese and watched sports until Peg arrived. She finally got home a little before 8. I figured she had lived on coffee all day, because as long as her day must have been, she looked chipper. She also looked hot. The DA liked using her because my wife looked really good in her suit. Her navy skirt was narrow, showing off her shapely legs and thin waist. She wore a tight white blouse with a push-up underneath a blazer. Her brown hair was up off her long neck, and she wore a pair of glasses. She looked like a sexy librarian.

"So," she started, not exactly sure how to ask the question. "How did it go?"

"Do you want to watch?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said hesitantly. "Is it bad?"

"I thought it was great," I said, knowing I'd get a frown.

She actually scowled. "Was she better than me?"

"It was different," I said. "The sex we had last Saturday was amazing. Trying to compare that with what we did this morning is like trying to compare prime rib and ice cream. They are both great, but sometimes you have a craving for one, and sometimes you crave the other."

"So did you li-"

"Sit your sexy librarian ass down here and watch the video with me."

That brought a smile to her face. "You like this outfit, don't you?"

"Would you sit down!"

She finally did, and I changed the input to the DVD player and hit play. She watched without comment for a while, guessing about Howard and my conversation. She would guess wrong, but given the premise for which I had set up for this encounter, there was only one thing we could be talking about. The view was not wide enough to catch Jessica sunbathing at the other end, so the first image of her was her walking toward me in the pool after Howard had left.