13 comments/ 31216 views/ 24 favorites Emily's Journey Ch. 01 By: KC_Morrow Roger couldn't remember the last time he saw Emily have more than two drinks over the course of an evening. Yet there she was, perched at the bar halfway through her third Mojito. "Pace yourself Emily, I don't want you getting too tipsy and falling asleep on me." She shot him a knowing look and took another sip. "Oh don't worry – sleep is the last thing on my mind tonight." "I damn well hope so – do you have any idea how much I'm shelling out for that suite upstairs?" Emily set her glass down and pushed away from the bar. "Well, I suppose we better head on up there and get our money's worth. But first, let me pop into the ladies room and freshen up." "Okay then, I'll settle the tab." Roger tossed his Visa card on the bar and signaled for the bartender. Emily gave him a quick peck on the cheek as she brushed by. She had barely left his side when Roger noticed a couple of middle-aged men in rumpled business suits, at the far end of the bar, checking her out. Both were pretty well lubricated, and not what you would call discrete. They leered at Emily as she obliviously worked her way through the crowded cocktail lounge. Sorry fellas, Roger thought as he finished off the last of his gin and tonic, but I'll be the only one tapping that ass tonight. For whatever reason Roger always got a charge out of seeing other guys ogle his wife. Granted, as a suburban mom in her late thirties, she didn't turn as many heads as she did years ago. But by any objective standard, Emily was still a piece of ass. Recently she'd gotten into yoga and her short black cocktail dress showed just what four mornings a week spent stretching, exhaling, and squatting could do to a 38 year-old woman's legs and butt. A slim petite woman, her breasts were on the small side – yet perky, even after two kids. With her fair skin, shoulder-length light-brown hair, big blue eyes and warm smile, Emily was often described as wholesomely pretty. They were in the city for the weekend to celebrate their anniversary. Renting a suite at the Hilton was Emily's idea. Roger didn't mind, although her request did come as a bit of a surprise. Usually she was content with dinner at what passed for an upscale restaurant in their quiet suburban township. After that, it was back home for a spirited fuck in their own bed – once they got the kids to sleep, of course. I really think we need to recapture some of the old excitement, she'd told him a few weeks back over breakfast.. After seventeen years of marriage, Roger reluctantly admitted that things had indeed become somewhat routine. What he didn't tell her was that although sex was more frequent during those early years, even then she was never really the adventurous type – at least not by his definition. Emily grew up in a small town in rural Indiana where her father was the pastor of the local Methodist church. Needless to say, she was a virgin when they met, and it took nearly a year of dating before she gave up her cherry to Roger. That fateful event took place in a motel in Myrtle Beach during Spring Break. He vividly remembered her as nervous and trembling as he climbed on top of her. She seemed more concerned with getting it over with than anything else. For Roger however, that evening was a fond memory. He was so eager, so thrilled to finally be inside her tight, little, virgin twat. In time, Emily shed some inhibitions and would come around to seeing the benefits of a good fuck. They went at it like rabbits during those early years, but then the kids came along. With most of her energy going into being a Mom and his channeled into climbing the corporate ladder, passion took a backseat to responsibility. A few years into the marriage, they were down to having sex about three times a month – and that was a in a good month. Emily busied herself with raising their two boys, volunteering at their church and other community activities while Roger found a less wholesome outlet in Internet porn. That was the state their marriage until that fateful day a couple of months ago when Emily's best friend Heather announced that her husband had left her for another woman. Shortly after that, Emily began asking Roger odd questions out of the blue, such as – do you still find me attractive? Are you bored? He tried his best to reassure her that he was nothing like Heather's asshole husband, and was most definitely not shopping around for another woman. Although, it was true, he sensed there remained a tiny shred of doubt in Emily's mind. It was around then that she suggested they celebrate their anniversary with a romantic weekend in the city. As Roger stood at the bar waiting for Emily to return, he wondered what her idea recapturing the old excitement meant. When he saw her emerge from the ladies room, he knew he'd find out soon enough. "Shall we retire to our suite?" Emily smirked. "Of course," Roger replied. After signing for the bar tab, he took her by the hand and escorted her out of the bustling lounge to the relative quiet of the lobby. "I don't know if I can wait until we get to the room," Roger teased as they ducked into an elevator. "How about we stop this thing and have a go of it right here?" "Mmmmm...that might be fun!" Emily purred as she nuzzled up to him. "We'd certainly give the guy monitoring the security camera a show he wouldn't soon forget." She tossed her head back and closed her eyes. Roger eagerly plunged his tongue into her waiting mouth. They smooched and grappled like a pair of randy teenagers until the elevator stopped and the doors opened. Seconds later, they were down the hall and in their suite. "Alright – let's get ourselves out of these clothes," Roger said as he slammed the door shut behind them. "Me first!" Emily said coyly. She put her hands on his chest and gently pushed him down on the couch. "I wanna give you a little show." She shoved the coffee table to the side and stood over him. There was a wanton look in her eyes as she reached behind and undid the zipper on the snug cocktail dress. The garment slowly slid down her body to reveal the goods from a recent trip to Victoria's Secret – a lacy black bra and panties. The material was so sheer that Roger could see the outline of her nipples. As his eyes moved downward, he made out the familiar dark triangle of her bush through the panties. "Just sit back babe – and enjoy the show!" Roger's eyes were drawn to Emily's right hand as it slowly moved down her tummy and into her panties. "It's okay baby...just relax...relax..." she whispered. Roger's cock hardened as he watched Emily rub her twat without inhibition. He'd never seen her masturbate before. He assumed she did, like all women, but he'd never even heard her so much as joke about it. "Ooooh," she moaned. "So you like watching girls play with themselves, huh?" Roger nodded silently, unable to take his eyes off her. "Let me give you a better view." She moaned as she slid the panties to the side. Emily writhed and swayed as she shamelessly massaged her crotch in a firm, steady circular motion. "You know what I'm thinking about?" She stared hard into his eyes. "Tell me!" Roger shot back. "I'm thinking about how much I'd like to suck your cock right now!" Wow – dirty talk from the pastor's daughter, he thought. It wasn't just her language that caught him by surprise. Emily had never been much of a fan of giving head. Her idea of a hummer was a workmanlike handjob delivered with an occasional flick of the tongue at the head of his cock. He got the impression she saw it as part of her wifely duty, like doing the laundry or mopping the kitchen floor. "Well, if that's what you want..." Roger remarked as he fumbled with his pants. Emily continued diddling herself as she slowly sunk to her knees and licked her lips. "Mmmmm.... I'm so thirsty," she said and reached into his pants. The next thing Roger knew, Emily had taken the full-length of his cock deep into her wet, waiting mouth. "Ah yeah... that's it, baby," Roger said as Emily bobbed between his knees. Damn- she's good, he thought. Where the fuck did she learn this? She didn't so much as flinch when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and aggressively took charge. "AH YEAH – THAT'S IT!" He roared. Sensing he was close, Emily started working him with her hand. She pumped furiously and came up off his cock gasping for air. "I want you to cum on my face," she sneered as she frantically jerked his cock. That was all Roger needed to hear. At that very moment, he came so hard, he saw stars. The first spurt landed on her cheek just below her left eye. "Ooooh!" Emily let a moan that was half shock, half joy. The second shot, streamed across her face – a particularly thick gob landing in her hair. She leaned forward, closed her eyes, opened wide and caught his final eruption in her mouth. When he thought he had nothing left, she dove down, took him back between her lips and hungrily sucked him dry. "Mmmm...thank you, baby," she purred as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Roger was speechless as he stared down at his wife – her makeup smeared, her hair a mess – thick, sticky cum dripping slowly down her face. "I guess you're a little surprised, huh?" She smirked. "W-well – kind of," he stammered. "But in a good way!" Emily giggled mischievously as she climbed up on the sofa beside him. "I have a little confession to make, babe," she whispered. "But you have to promise you won't get upset with me." Roger was clueless but at that moment he would agree to just about anything. "Sure – sure – go ahead tell me!" "Remember last month when we were having problems with the computer and you let me borrow your laptop?" Roger nodded; he had no idea what that had to with anything. "Well..." she continued. "I came across your porn stash." A wave of anxiety washed over him. What the fuck, he thought. How the hell did she find that? That folder was buried deep within a series of other folders about financial stuff – the last place he'd assume she'd ever look. He wasn't proud to admit that his tastes had gotten pretty raunchy over the years. He shuddered at the thought of what she might think. "Don't freak out, baby," she whispered calmly. "I'll admit I was a bit shocked at first – but after a little soul searching I realized that maybe you were a little bored with how stale things had gotten, and maybe I should make an attempt to be a little more adventurous." She pulled a bunch of tissues from a Kleenex box on the end table. Roger felt some of the anxiety melt away but he was still more than a little uneasy. He watched her daub her cum-streaked face with the wad of tissues. "I guess that explains a lot," he said awkwardly. "Yup! Emily snickered. "I picked up a few tricks from watching a bunch of those video files of yours. You know that old saying – men want to marry a lady but they want a whore in the bedroom?" Roger chuckled. "Well, I'm not gonna complain. But seriously hon – I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do..." She laughed. "We haven't gotten there yet – suckin' cock and getting a load blasted in my face was a lot more fun than I thought it would be!" Roger smiled. "But I thought you hated that – it seemed to me that you thought that giving head was a chore!" "Oh please!" She cut him off. "You know how I was raised! And I was worried about what you might think of me!" "Well, I definitely think much more highly of you now than I did this morning." "Jerk!" Emily playfully punched him in the shoulder. " Anyway..." she continued. "I think I'm holding up pretty well for a thirty-seven year old mom from the 'burbs." "Let me tell you something, hon – you look a hell of a lot better than most women ten years younger." "Uh-huh – yeah right." She rolled her eyes. "Seriously! Right before we came up here, I saw a couple of guys in the bar checking you out? "You're full of it!" "Hell no – there was one guy staring at your ass so hard, I thought your dress was gonna catch fire! It wasn't hard to read what he was thinking!" Emily leaned in and whispered. "Oh yeah – tell me." Roger was feeling a rush of excitement about where the conversation was headed. He pulled her close and whispered. "I think he would have liked to lean you over a table, pull down your panties, and fuck you in front of the whole bar." Emily's eyes widened. "Oh my – you sound pretty turned on right now." Roger blushed. He couldn't believe he told his wife that he entertained thoughts about watching someone else fuck her. "Don't be embarrassed baby," she cooed. "It's just a fantasy, right?" She reached around and undid her bra. "Now let's move on over to the bed and keep this party going!" Emily got up from the couch, casually tossed the bra on the floor and walked toward the King Size bed – her perky tits bouncing with every step. Roger remained seated as he watched her kick off her heels and remove her panties. "C'mon big boy! Time to give your woman some dick!" She said as she lied down on the bed and spread her legs. Roger bolted up and walked toward her. Emily reached down between her legs with one hand and gently massaged a bare breast with the other. "C'mon baby – get out of those clothes and climb on top of me." Roger hastily struggled out of her clothes. He couldn't believe the hot mess fingering herself on the bed was his wife. "I'm really digging this slutty side of you." She wrapped her legs around him as he crawled on top of her. "Mmmmm...anything you want, baby – just think of me as your own personal whore for the evening." She let out a long, slow, breathy moan as he slid inside her. She smelled like sweat and cum – his cum! He found the aroma intoxicating. "You like that don't you, you dirty girl!" "Ooooh yeah – I love the feel of a nice hard cock in my pussy!" Her eyes were blazing. "Now why don't you give this dirty little slut what she wants!" Roger pinned her hands to the bed and thrust into her so hard, her head almost hit the headboard. "C'MON – FUCK ME – FUCK ME HARD!" Roger enthusiastically obliged. He hadn't been so excited to be inside a woman since that night in Myrtle Beach when he took her virginity. She grunted and bucked like a rutting animal as he hammered away. "UNH-UNH-UNH-UNH-UNH!!!" "That's it whore – let me know how much you love it!" Roger heard himself say. "FUCK ME – FUCK ME – FUCK ME!" She yelled in rhythm to his thrusts. Roger felt she was close but he didn't think he could hold out for her. He grabbed hold of her wrists tightly – his body spasmed and he popped off deep into her. Exhausted and spent he rolled off his heaving wife. "I'm sorry I didn't get you off...I just couldn't hold out any longer." "That's ok, baby, we'll have a lot more opportunities before this weekend is through." She kissed him tenderly before reaching over and turning off the lamp. "Now get a good night's rest – you're gonna need your strength." Emily's Journey Ch. 02 It was late morning when Roger slowly stirred to life. He rolled over to grab Emily for a cuddle but quickly discovered her side of the bed empty. He glanced around the room until his eyes landed on a note propped up on the nightstand. Even through bleary eyes, he recognized his wife's elegant, feminine handwriting. Good Morning Babe! I'm sorry I'm not around to say that to you in person but I needed to dash out and pick up a few things. I'm really looking forward to another adventurous evening with my man! Love, Emily PS: I probably won't be back until the afternoon so keep yourself busy until then. He crawled back into bed, closed his eyes and replayed the events of last night. The memory of Emily's smiling up at him from between his legs, her face glazed and sticky with cum inspired a massive hard-on. He couldn't remember the last time his own wife was the star of one of his masturbation fantasies, but it wasn't any time recently. He imagined her as prostitute - not a high-end call girl type but a cheap, slutty streetwalker putting her newfound enthusiasm for cocksucking up for sale to any man with a fistful of bills. After blowing a blowing a generous load into the hotel sheets, he got up and stumbled to the bathroom. After a shower and shave, he headed around the block to tan Applebee's for breakfast where he worked his way through an omelet and lingered over several cups of coffee. Eventually he migrated to the bar and distracted himself with a few beers and college football game. Before he knew it, it was mid-afternoon. He settled up with the bartender and headed back to the hotel for a nap. A couple of hours later, he awoke to the sight of Emily coming through the door hauling an assortment of shopping bags. "Good afternoon - you've been gone quite a while," Roger said through a yawn. "So, what did you buy?" Emily dropped the bags by the door and dashed over to the bed. "That's a surprise," she with a wink. "Don't worry - it'll be a nice surprise! "I can't wait!" Roger grabbed her and pulled her down on top of him. She giggled as they groped, smooched and rolled around the bed. But when his hand up strayed up under her skirt, she abruptly pulled away. "Not yet - I want you to save your energy for later." "But I'm horny now!" "I'm sorry babe - but good things come to those who wait!" "Cocktease," he shouted as she bolted off the bed. The next thing he knew she was across the room digging through her purse. "I'm gonna call the boys," she said as she pulled her phone from the bag. "I haven't talked to them since we left. I'm sure if anything was wrong, my sister would have rang us, but it doesn't hurt to check." Roger nodded. Nothing killed a hard-on quicker than thinking about the kids. He slumped back on the bed as Emily yammered away into the phone. Half an hour later, they ordered a light dinner from room service and channel surfed for what seemed like ages. At around 8:30, Emily switched off the TV and giddily retrieved her shopping bags. "First, let me show you what I bought for you!" She dug into a shopping bag with an unfamiliar logo printed on the side. "Me?" A curious Roger raised an eyebrow. He was disappointed to see Emily holding up an expensive looking black silk shirt. He didn't know what to say. It wasn't the type of thing he'd ever buy for himself. "Emily, hon...you really didn't have to do that - I have plenty of nice shirts." "Maybe so, but you don't have anything like this. It was made in Italy and it's a damn site nicer than any of those golf shirts you usually wear when we go out." Roger sighed. "Alright, if you want me to wear it, I won't argue. Now let's see what you got for yourself." Emily playfully swatted at his hand as he reached for the bags. "Just sit right there and I'll get dressed." She snatched up the bags and strutted off to the bathroom. Knowing it would probably take a while for her to get ready, Roger clicked the TV back on. After cycling through the through the channels three times, he tossed the remote aside and picked up the shirt. I suppose I better have this on by the time she comes out of that bathroom, he thought. He pulled off his golf shirt and slipped it on. The expensive material felt pleasant against his bare skin. Sensing it wasn't the type of thing you'd wear with jeans, he put on a pair of black dress pants. With the ensemble complete, he checked himself out in the mirror. He didn't think the new looks suited him very well. He felt like a suburban douchebag pretending to be a Mafiosi. As he slipped on his loafers, the bathroom door opened. He was rendered speechless when he turned to look. Emily had transformed herself to the point where he barely recognized her. She was decked-out in a tight black dress with a slit up the thigh, a snug-fitting red silk button-down blouse - the top few buttons undone. A pair of stiletto heels added about three inches to her height. She'd gone heavy on the eye makeup too, thick eyeliner, mascara - the works! "So what do you think?" She gave a slow twirl. "Wow...just wow!" "Have you got someplace exciting picked out for us to go tonight?" Roger had initially planned an evening at a trendy Thai restaurant a few blocks from the hotel, but Emily's slutty ensemble inspired him to change his plans on the fly. "Umm...there's a nice little jazz club across town, called Mr. C's." It was a place Roger had been to once before during a pub-crawl with some out-of-town business associates. The joint wasn't exactly a dive, but it was dark and smoky and a little on the seedy side. Emily threw on a coat for the walk through the hotel lobby and out to the parking lot. When they reached the car, she whipped it off and tossed it in the backseat. "Let's go, baby! Good times await," she shouted as she climbed into the passenger seat. They were both giddy with anticipation throughout the ten-minute ride. Emily found a Top 40 station on the radio and cranked it. The normally staid, conservative woman bopped and shimmied in her seat like a teenage girl. "Hmm...so this is the place," Emily remarked upon seeing the neon Mr. C's sign as they cruised past. "Seems kind of dodgy to me - what kind of girl do you think I am?" "Judging by your outfit - an easy lay." Roger pulled into a free parking spot at the end of the block. "We'll have to see about that!" Emily grinned and touched up her lipstick. "Oh - you're gonna make me work for it, are you?" "That's an idea!" Her voice dropped to a throaty whisper. "How about I go in first, take a seat at the bar, and you can come in and try and pick me up?" Roger chuckled. "Oooh - a little role-playing game. Sounds like a plan!" "Yeah, I thought you'd like it - see you in a few?" She undid her seatbelt and winked at him as she exited the passenger side. A tingle ran up his spine as he watched her amble awkwardly down the street on the new heels. Like a little baby girl taking her first steps, he thought. Roger felt a rush as he watched her enter the club. He sat alone in the car for a while imagining what Emily might be going through inside all by herself. He knew her well enough to know she was far outside of her comfort zone. He wondered how she would react to being hit on by a complete stranger - it certainly wouldn't take very long in that place. Roughly ten minutes after she left him, Roger made his way down the street. It wasn't a long time, just long enough to make Emily a little edgy. There were a handful of people milling around the entrance. A burly black bouncer eyed him curiously but let him through without a word. The place wasn't much different than Roger remembered. A jazz trio played to a diverse but mostly disinterested audience. There were a quite a few couples in attendance but most of the clientele looked unattached and on the make. He surveyed the crowd - young professional types, some tourists, and a handful of hipsters scattered about. He noticed a few cougars on the make - but none of them could hold a candle to his lovely wife, who he spotted quickly. She was perched at the end of the bar behind a big martini glass. To his surprise, she was being chatted up by a tall, athletic looking thirty-something in an expensive looking suit. The place was busy but not so much that Roger couldn't easily find a free table. He slid into a cozy booth a few feet from the bar and ordered a gin and tonic from a waitress who looked as if she'd rather be somewhere else. It was a prime seat to watch the action. Emily appeared aloof but polite. Her companion on the other hand looked like he was turning on the charm - smiling at her, leaning in when she spoke, and occasionally touching her hand. As the waitress returned with his drink, Emily turned and saw him. They made eye contact. Her admirer saw him too. The guy didn't look too happy when Emily politely excused herself and made her way over to his table. "You certainly took your time getting here," she said as she slid into the booth across from him. Her tone sounded less than pleased. "I knew you'd make friends quickly." "Oh - he was friendly alright." Emily rolled her eyes. "I thought you were supposed to be the charming stranger who tries to pick me up? So much for our little role-playing game!" "Maybe we can play a different role-playing game?" Emily leaned in across the table. "And what did you have in mind?" "Well...when I saw you come out of the bathroom in that outfit, I thought..." "You thought what?" She impatiently grabbed his arm. "Tell me!" He leaned back and smiled. "I thought - you look good enough to pay for?" Emily's eyes widened. "You thought I looked like a hooker?!" "A high-class hooker...you know like an escort or a call girl?" The look on her face signaled that she wasn't exactly thrilled with this opinion. "Hmmm...I suppose I should be flattered. But what would that make you - my client?" "Well..." Roger drawled. "I thought I could be your business manager?" Emily rolled her eyes again. "And by business manager, you mean my pimp, right?" "Well, I certainly feel like one in this shirt you made me wear." Emily pursed her lips. "Okaaaayyy...so how's this gonna work?" "I don't know - maybe we could go have a seat at the bar - play it by ear?" Roger could see the wheels turning as he sat across from her. Her expression told him that she was not warming to the idea. The old familiar Emily seemed to be returning - cautious...guarded...uptight. "Excuse me - would you mind if I joined you two for a drink?" Roger looked up to see the handsome stranger - the man who was hitting on Emily moments earlier. "Well...umm..." Roger stammered. "Of course," chirped Emily. "Sit right here!" She slid over and patted the empty space beside her. Roger was stunned. He thought for sure Emily was going to demand to be taken back to the hotel. The stranger signaled for the waitress. "Another round over here - and put it on my tab." He smiled as he slid into the booth beside Emily. "I'm Curt," he said, offering her his hand. "And you never did tell me your name." "I'm Margo!" Emily announced as she daintily shook his hand. "And this is...Rico!" And the role-play was on. Margo did sound sultry and mysterious - a good name for a call girl, but Rico? It sounded ridiculous. She wondered where she came up with that. Probably in one of these cheesy romance paperbacks she's always reading. "So...are you two married?" Curt inquired. "Oh no," Emily replied. "Rico is my business manager." She mockingly stressed the last two words. Curt looked baffled. "Business manager, eh?" "Oh yes, Rico handles everything." Curt raised an eyebrow. "I see." "Rico calls the shots - pretty much all my financial transactions go through him. Do you get my drift, big fella?" Curt looked amused. He knew that he was probably being made sport of, but didn't seem to mind. He turned his attentions to Roger. "So Rico, if I wanted to contract Margo's services for the evening, how much would that set me back?" With all eyes on him, Roger figured he better start acting the part. Emily was certainly being a good sport in indulging his little fantasy, so he better start holding up his end. He cleared his throat. "Margo is very exclusive and doesn't come cheap. She's like a Porsche or a Maserati..." "Let's cut to the chase, Rico. How much?" Curt was even more handsome up close than he was from across the room - strong masculine features, piercing brown eyes, thick dark wavy hair. He was clearly a guy who never paid for it in his life and wasn't going to start now. "Five-thousand dollars!" Roger felt that was a safe price, one that a guy like Curt would never agree to. Emily's jaw dropped, but she wasn't the only one who had trouble believing what she just heard. Curt looked incredulous. "Five Grand? Unfortunately I don't carry that kind of money around with me." Roger felt smug. It was up to him to ensure that the game didn't go too far and it appears that he'd succeeded. He'd protected his wife's virtue and defused what could have been a tricky situation. "That price is non-negotiable, my friend. To accept a penny less would be out of the question." Roger was really starting to enjoy playing the part of his wife's pimp. "Well, you certainly drive a hard bargain, Rico. Like I said, I don't have that kind of money on me, but I do have this..." Curt pushed up his jacket sleeve and removed his watch. "This Rolex cost me thirteen grand when I bought it last year." He gently placed the watch in the center of the table. "If you take it to a jeweler or a high-end pawnbroker, you'll get ten thousand for it - minimum!" Jeez - this guy really means business, Roger wondered. "I'm sorry friend - cash only." Curt glanced over at Emily. "I'm very sorry to hear that. I can tell just by looking at her that it would be a bargain, even at that price." Just as Curt looked like he was about to make his exit, Emily grabbed the watch and slipped it on her wrist. "Maybe just this once we can make an exception, Rico. He seems like an honest man." Roger flinched. He couldn't believe what he had just heard her say. "Ahhh no, Emily - I mean Margo - that's not the way we operate. If we change things now..." "Oh please!" She cut him off. "I think it wouldn't hurt to bend the rules just once." She glared at him across the table. "If you don't like the way things are going, you can call it off at any time - any time! We walk away and Curt gets his watch back! How does that sound?" Roger didn't know what to think. Emily had turned the tables on him. It was as if she was telling him -I just want to see if you have the balls to follow through on this little fantasy of yours. If you want to put a stop it, then do it - don't make this my decision. "That's fine with me, if it's fine with Rico," Curt added. Roger's heart was in his throat. They were both staring at him, waiting for his answer. "Sounds like I've been given an offer I can't refuse." Before Roger knew it, the three of them were outside in front of the bar. The game had escalated quickly. "Me and Curt will sit in the back while you drive," Emily announced as they approached the car. Roger nodded silently. It was clear that she was running things now. He watched through the rear-view mirror as they settled into the backseat. They decided to forego seatbelts and sat close - butt-cheek-to-butt-cheek. Roger listened to them making small talk as the car cruised along the side streets. It was innocent at first but soon enough the conversation evolved into hushed tones, whispers and the occasional giggle from Emily. He briefly stole a look in the rearview mirror, only to see Curt with one arm draped around her shoulders, the other hand resting on her bare knee. He thought about what Emily said back at the bar, "If you don't like the way things are going, you can call it off at any time - any time!" Those words ran through his mind as he watched the stranger's hand move up his wife's inner thigh. He felt he should put a stop to things before they reached the point of no return, but he couldn't. His heart was pounding, his cock was hard - he didn't want to stop it. The next twenty minutes or so were a blur. He couldn't remember parking the car but he did remember the walk through the hotel lobby. This time, Emily didn't bother covering herself up with a coat. Curt escorted her in with his arm around her waist. Roger trailed them meekly. The young girl at the front desk, who checked them in the day before, did a double take as the three of them walked past. In no time at all, they were entering the suite. Emily wriggled out from Curt's arms. "You two can talk business while I freshen up." As soon as the bathroom door closed, Curt spoke up. "So, is this where we part ways, Rico...so me and the lady can get acquainted?" The questions hit Roger like a thunderbolt. There was no way, he was going to leave this guy alone with Emily. "Look Curt...I'm sorry but..." "Relax!" Curt interrupted. "I know what's going on here. I know she's not a hooker and you sure as hell aren't a pimp. You're a nice married couple from the 'burbs having a little adventure for yourselves in the city. It's nothing I haven't seen before." "H-how did you know?" Roger stammered. Curt rolled his eyes. "First off - the wedding rings were a dead giveaway. Then there's the fact that neither of you are very good actors. Jeez - you even slipped and used her real name once or twice. What was it - Emily? And really, whose idea was it to call you Rico - you don't look like a Rico?" Roger felt like a fool. He blushed as Curt continued. "Now that we have all that out of the way, I would still like to fuck your wife. If you want to hang out and watch me put it to her, that's cool." A strange feeling of relief came over Roger. The truth was out in the open now, but one big question remained unanswered. He felt the proverbial angel and the devil on each shoulder making their cases. "Yes...I still want you to fuck my wife," Roger heard himself say. "But I would appreciate it if you didn't let on to Emily that you saw through our little charade." "Sure buddy!" Curt flashed a smile. "Now why don't you go fix yourself a drink and settle in for the show." As if on cue, Emily emerged from the bathroom. "So...I hope you gentleman ironed out all the details?" "Indeed we did." Curt took her in his arms. "Rico insisted he stay to make sure I behave like a gentleman." Emily glanced across the room at Roger who was emptying a small bottle of scotch into a glass. "Good, I want him to see just how good I am at my job." Curt strolled over to the entertainment center and tinkered with the controls. Moments later, a slow jazz number emanated from the speakers. "This isn't really my taste but it suits the mood," Curt looked at Emily. "Now how about you show me what I'm paying for." Emily calmly climbed up on the coffee table. She swayed softly to the music as she undid the buttons of her blouse one-by-one. "Yeah - that's what I'm talkin' about!" Curt whooped as Emily whipped off her top to reveal a lacy, red, cleavage-enhancing bra. Roger settled in on the sofa and played the part of silent spectator. He betrayed no emotion, but was secretly thrilled to watch his Emily revealing her flesh to this complete stranger. She never once glanced over at him as she reached back and undid her bra. In one graceful motion, she whipped it off and tossed at it Curt's feet. Emily's Journey Ch. 02 "You can keep that as a souvenir," she drawled. She raised her arms over her head. Her firm, perky little tits bouncing gently as she snaked from side-to-side. Roger was so mesmerized by Emily's topless dance routine that he failed to notice that Curt had removed most of his clothes and was down to his boxers. Curt's trim, sinewy build was quite a contrast to Roger's own doughy middle-aged body. I suppose if you're gonna let someone screw your wife, it may as well be someone who takes good care of himself, he reasoned. Emily gazed down at Curt and smiled mischievously. "You wanna see the rest," she teased. "Hell yeah, baby! Show me the promised land!" Emily undid the hasp on her skirt. The garment slowly slid to down her legs. Curt's jaw dropped. Roger gasped audibly. Apparently during her afternoon shopping spree, Emily had carved out some time to hit a salon and get herself a Brazilian wax. Roger was overwhelmed. He'd come to think of soft, downy well-groomed triangle on Emily's pudenda as being as just as much of a part of her as the color of her eyes. "Hell yeah!" Curt roared. "That looks good enough to eat!" Emily stepped down from the coffee table and plopped ass-first onto the couch. She raised both legs high in the air and spread them wide. "Come 'n get it, cowboy!" Roger watched with shock and delight as Curt bolted across the room, fell to his knees and buried his face in Emily's smooth hairless snatch. "Ah yeahhh...ooooohhh..." she cooed as Curt hungrily worked between her legs. Roger felt half the blood in his body rush to his head and the other half rush to his dick. He was watching a complete stranger eat his wife's pussy and he had absolutely no desire to intervene. His conscience was in sleep mode. Curt pulled back from Emily's dripping twat. Without missing a beat, he replaced his tongue with two fingers. "Mmmmm...that is the sweetest cunt I've tasted in a long time." Emily bit her lip and shut her eyes tightly as Curt continued rapidly working his fingers in and out of her. "You've had enough foreplay, girl... I think its time to move things to the next level." "Ooooooooohhh!" Emily squealed as Curt's fingers hit her joy spot. "That's just a little preview of what's to come," Curt said as he withdrew his fingers and stood up. There was confusion in Emily's eyes. This stranger had come very close to fingering her into ecstasy and then stopped. She lowered her legs and looked at Curt quizzically. Curt smirked and snapped the waistband of his boxers. "Get on over here girl - time for you to unwrap your present!" Emily knew exactly what he wanted her to do. She slithered off the couch and crawled to him. Curt ran a hand through her tangled mess of light-brown hair as she tugged down his boxers. Roger almost gasped when he saw what Curt was packing. His cock was porn-star massive - nine rock-hard inches and damn-nearly as wide as a Red Bull can. His own five-incher looked like a toothpick in comparison. Emily looked like she didn't know what to make of it either. Her eyes were wide with wonder as she surveyed the unwieldy instrument. "Don't be scared - it won't bite!" Curt joked. Emily cautiously trailed a finger down the length of it before taking it in her hand. "Its so...so...huge!" She said through nervous giggles. Curt grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to her feet. "I prefer to think of it as just the right size to get the job done!" Emily let out a short, sharp shriek as Curt delivered a firm hard slap to her ass. "Now why don't you get on your hands and knees over there in front of your business manager. I'd like to be close enough so he can monitor your performance." Emily avoided making eye contact with Roger as she teetered across the rooms on her heels. She kept her eyes to the carpet as she got down on all fours. Roger sensed the stranger was just as thrilled about the way the evening was unfolding as he was. Curt was clearly a man who got off on fucking other men's wives in front of them. Emily's gaze remained on the floor as Curt settled in behind her. She let out an anxious gasp as he worked the head of his massive cock into her. "Don't wimp out me girl - there's still a lot more left to go," he whispered as he grabbed hold of her waist. "Aahhhhhhh!" Emily wriggled as Curt's cock slowly slid into her. "Come on whore - conduct yourself like a professional!" Curt sneered as he began thrusting. Emily's front half went limp and she buried her face in the carpet. Curt picked up the pace. "Ah yeah! You're startin' to dig it out aren't you?" Curt tightened his grip on her waist. Emily squealed. Soon enough she would adapt to the pace. Her voice deepened and in a throaty growl she repeated a profane mantra. "OOOH YESSSSSS - FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" Roger marveled at the transformation. He couldn't believe the coarse, wanton fuck-toy drooling into the carpet in front him of him was his preacher's daughter, soccer-mom wife. Tomorrow morning there would certainly be guilt and regret but the only thing he felt at that moment was pure, unadulterated lust. Curt's face twisted with passion, hammered away at the bucking, twitching Emily. "YEAH - TAKE THAT COCK -WHORE! EARN YOUR MONEY!" Emily grunted in rhythm to the pounding. "UNH-UNH-UNH-UNH-UNH-UNH-UNH-UNH!!" Curt grabbed a fistful of hair as he rode her home. "AHHH YEAH - HERE IT COMES, BITCH!!" Emily twitched and spasmed as she climaxed - her moans of ecstasy bounced off the walls. Exhausted, her knees gave out and she collapsed, belly-down on the carpet as Curt emptied the last of his load into her. The only one in the room who didn't get off was Roger. His throbbing erection remained in his pants as he gazed down at Emily hyperventilating at his feet. Cum pooled in the small of her back and dribbled down into her ass-crack. "Damn - that was one helluva fuck session," Curt announced proudly as he stood up. "I think I may have to splash some cold water on my face - regain my strength!" Emily slowly stirred to life. She avoided making eye contact with Roger as she struggled to her feet. She teetered on her heels for a moment before starting toward the empty bed. Curt turned and raised his hand. "Oh no - baby! There's no rest for the wicked. I think that fella on the couch over there deserves some relief." Emily stopped dead in her tracks. "I paid for that pussy so that my playground - how about you give him a nice handy?" Curt grinned as he stepped into the restroom and shut the door behind him. Emily turned and stared blankly at Roger. It's as if he was nothing more than an afterthought. "Well...I guess the customer is always right, " she said without emotion as she staggered over to the couch. Roger took inventory of his wife as she plopped down beside him. Her naked body was slick with sweat; there were large red welts on her waist where Curt had handled her. Her hair was in disarray and her mascara smeared. She was the very definition of a hot mess but she couldn't possibly have been more desirable to him. "Hmmm, it looks like you really enjoyed the floor show," she remarked casually as she reached into his pants. Roger said nothing as she pulled out his cock and slowly stroked. "So, you got your little fantasy - you got to watch me get fucked raw by a complete stranger - was it everything you thought it would be?" Emily whispered. "Yes," Roger replied. "Everything and more!" "I'll bet it was - you really dug seeing that stud hammer away!" Emily looked into his eyes and stroked faster. "Well, it was fun for me too! I love the feel of a big ol' dick up inside me!" "And you handled him quite well - you make such a great whore!" Emily grinned like a madwoman. "Maybe you should pimp me out more often?" That was all Roger needed to hear - his pent up prick went off like a rocket. Spent and exhausted, Roger leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. A few moments later, he opened them again, only to see Emily on her knees attempting to swallow Curt's half-hard cock. "Hey buddy," Curt bellowed. It may take a while before she sucks me hard again so you just might wanna catch some z's." Roger dozed off to the sound of Emily hacking and coughing as she throated Curt's huge anaconda. Roger didn't know how long he was out but he awoke to the sound of animalistic grunts and the rhythmic slapping of flesh on flesh. He looked across the room to see Curt's ass bobbing up and down as he fucked Emily missionary style on the bed. Roger's prick was raw but he couldn't help but reach down and get in at least one more jack-session. This time, all three of them would climax simultaneously. He blew his load as Emily's cries of "OHMYGOD-OHMYGOD-OHMYGOD" filled the room. Shortly after it was over, Emily rolled off the bed and patted off to the bathroom. Roger promptly tidied himself up as best he could. Once he'd composed himself, he approached Curt who was sitting on the edge of the bed, getting back into his clothes. "Well...I'd like to thank you and the missus for a wonderful evening," Curt cracked as he buttoned up his shirt. "Likewise," Roger replied. "I appreciate that you didn't let on to Emily that you were onto us." "Not a problem, friend." "I suppose we should give you your watch back?" Curt threw his head back and laughed like he'd just heard the funniest thing in the world. "What so damn funny?" An annoyed Roger asked. "Oh man, I suppose I should've told you but that ain't a real Rolex! - It's a fake!" Roger was baffled. Curt shook his head in disbelief. "I was in New York last summer and bought it off a guy in Times Square for twenty-five bucks. He had a whole backpack full of 'em!" Roger was pissed. As much as he wanted to wipe the smug little grin off that lying weasel's face, the best course of action would be to just let it go. " Adios Rico!" Curt was still chuckling as he went through the door. Now what, Roger thought. Actions have consequences. He'd just spent an evening living out a fantasy that he thought would never come true, yet all he felt was dread. An awkward confrontation with Emily was imminent and he had no clue what he was going to say. How would they move forward? Had he pissed away the love and trust of a decent woman for one wild night of debauched thrills? His head was pounding. He popped three aspirin into his mouth and chased them with a long pull of Scotch. Depressed and guilt-ridden he sat on the edge of the bed and listened to the sound of the shower on the other side of the bathroom door. Nearly an hour had passed before he heard the water turn off. It was as if his wife was trying to wash away the events of the previous evening with hot water and soap. A few minutes later, he heard the bathroom door open. Roger's heart was in his throat as he heard Emily approach. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Emily, clad in a hotel bathrobe, her hair still damp from the shower. She didn't look angry or ashamed; to his surprise, her face was tranquil. "We better talk about this now." She sat beside him on the bed and took his hand in hers. "Of course," Roger replied. "I want to clear the air." Emily paused a few seconds before speaking. When she began, she spoke slowly and calmly, as if she'd put a lot of thought into her words. "Last night we both did some things that were very much out of character. When I think back on what happened, I can barely believe it. But it did happen - you passively watched another man treat me like a common whore. I'm not angry with you because as much as I hate to say it - I enjoyed it too." Emily cleared her throat, took a deep breath and continued. "In a few hours we'll be back home with our kids, back to our old lives - our real lives. I not saying we should try and forget the events of this weekend, but we shouldn't let it define us. We've been together for seventeen years and we shouldn't let one night of poor judgment destroy what we've built." Roger was breathing a little easier. Maybe this marriage isn't over after all. "You're absolutely right, Emily. I love you and I couldn't live with myself if I ever lost you." She smiled and kissed him softly on the lips. "Good, now let's go home!" Postscript: In the weeks that followed, Roger and Emily returned to their old selves. They rarely spoke about that fateful night and when they did they would refer to it euphemistically as the incident. Their sex life also reverted back to the old routine. Roger didn't even mind; he'd sown his wild oats and was quite content when Emily decided to throw him an occasional, no-frills, missionary-style fuck in the privacy of their bedroom. All was right with the world again. But then one Tuesday evening something out of the ordinary happened. Emily's car was in the shop, so Roger let her have his for the day on the condition that she pick him up after work. When he met her in the lobby of his building, he saw her chatting with a young security guard. He didn't think anything of it until Emily mentioned something during the ride home. Roger was behind the wheel and had just pulled onto the freeway. "So who was that young security guard? Is he new?" "Him? His name is Carlos, I think. Yeah, he just started a few weeks ago. Why do you ask?" "Well...I'm pretty sure he wanted to fuck me." In an instant, Roger was back in the same twisted frame of mind he was in during the night of the incident. Without saying a word, he swerved two lines and sped down the nearest exit. "This doesn't look like the way home," Emily joked as Roger steered the car into an empty lot behind a strip mall. "You're a bright woman," Roger said as he parked the car behind a dumpster. "And I think you're smart enough to know what to do with a stiff cock!" "Oh I do - but it'll cost you," she teased. "Really - how much?" Roger reached into his jacket for his wallet. Emily snatched the wallet from his hands. "Let's see - it looks like you've got just enough for a blowjob!" She cackled as she pulled out every bill and tossed the wallet aside. Roger fumbled with his pants as Emily removed her seatbelt and lowered her head onto his lap. As she hungrily bobbed and slurped, Roger was in a complete state of bliss. "Ahhh yeah - that's right- suck it hard - earn every penny!" He loved his wife, but it was really nice to have the little whore back again for a visit.