"I can't wait to meet Addison," Marcus said, leaning into the camera. "From what you've said, she's smoking hot."
I glanced over at Addison, who was working on the desk about 8 feet away. Pretending to be engrossed in her work, she didn't even look up as I chatted with "the boys."
"I tried to look her up online, and I came up with zilch. What law firm does she work for?" Jake said.
"That's none of your business, and she uses her maiden name for work, so you'll just have to wait to meet her on Sunday," I said.
"Isn't she going to be there on Saturday?" Tyler asked.
"Nah, she's got some big tax deal to wrap up in New York," I said, keeping my voice casual despite the thrill of knowing what the weekend had in store for her, and for us.
"Damn, man, that's too bad," Jake said, his expression a mix of disappointment and awe. "I checked out that place you two live in on Google Maps. Fucking mansion. No wonder working Saturdays."
"Well, the house does have plenty of space. She already has the guest house out by the pool setup for two of you, and whoever wants to stay in the main house is welcome to use one of the spare bedrooms."
"Fuck me. The guest house?” Tyler laughed. “Look at you, living off your rich wife's money!"
“Yeah, somebody married well,” Jake added.
“All true,” I agreed. I married well. VERY well. Better than any of them could possibly imagine.
I glanced over at Addison, who showed no sign of listening in. Typing, typing, typing. Damn, she was a good actress.
Marcus and Tyler nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you've really hit the jackpot, Steve," Marcus chimed in. "So, what's the plan for Saturday night? Just us three?"
"Yeah, I have tickets for the Cowboy's game. Addison's company has a box, so we can watch the game in style. Free drinks."
Marcus nodded. "Sounds like a plan. We'll grab dinner beforehand?"
"Yeah, her secretary got us a reservation at Cut & Bourbon, which is pretty close to the stadium," I explained. "We’ll do dinner before, although they usually have a pretty good spread in the box, too. Try not to get too drunk at the game, though. It's her company box, and one of her fellow partners might have some friends or clients there."
"Yeah, we won't get shit faced until afterward," Tyler said, laughing.
"Maybe we'll go back to that hotel where we had so much fun," Marcus said. "Is that dump still there, Steve, or have the roaches eaten it?"
"Oh, the Best Rest Motel is still standing," I said with a smirk. "And the neighborhood? It's sleazier than ever."
Jake said he looked it up on Google maps, and they should call it a "HO-tel, because of all the hookers hanging around the parking lot and the corner."
I couldn't help but glance over at Addison again. Her typing remained unfaltering, and she seemed to be totally focused on her work. She was playing it cool, and it was driving me wild. Her ability to blend our kinky fantasy with her lawyer persona was a turn-on beyond anything I'd ever experienced.
"How about it, Steve?" Tyler asked. "A nice steak, your fancy box at the game, then some drinks and a little R&R at the Best Rest?"
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my poker face. "I'm married now, guys," I protested weakly.
Jake chuckled, a knowing glint in his eye. "Yeah, Steve, we know," he said. "But Addison's in New York, and we're in for a wild weekend. What happens in Dallas stays in Dallas, right?"
Marcus nodded emphatically. "Exactly. And besides, it's not like you're actually cheating. It's just a little reunion nostalgia, right?"
Tyler agreed. "It'll be like when we graduated High School. We'll find some cum sock to squirt our jizz on. It's a lay, not a love."
The conversation took a darker turn as the guys discussed their plans for the weekend. Marcus leaned in closer to the screen, his grin widening like a predator eyeing its prey. "I want to fuck her in the ass," he said, his voice gruff and demanding. "Make her beg for it, like she's never had it before."
Tyler nodded, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "And let's make her dance for us," he suggested. "You know, like one of those cheap strippers at the clubs we used to go to. Make her shake her tits and her ass until she's begging for more."
Their voices grew louder, their laughter more raucous, as they discussed the various ways they planned to degrade and use her. "We'll make her crawl around the room on her hands and knees," Marcus said, his voice dripping with malice. "Like a good little whore, begging for our dicks."
"Yeah, make her line up and suck us off, while one of us is pounding her up the ass," Marcus said.
"You should do it, Jake," Marcus said. "You have the biggest dick. Make the little piggy squeal while we blow our wads in her mouth."
This was going further than I had ever imagined. I had talked to Addison about the weekend, and she had agreed to the role-play, but hearing them speak like this was intense. But then again, it was just talk. Right?
The guys were getting off on it, that much was clear. Their faces were flushed and they were leaning in, eager to get started. "You're the ho-host, Steve," Tyler said. "You'll be tasked with finding us a good, skanky ho to fuck, one who will do anything for a dollar."
"Her dignity for a dollar," Tyler said.
Marcus chimed in, his eyes practically popping out of his head. "Yeah, and when we're done with her, we'll leave her tied to the bed, her ass in the air for the next customer."
I swallowed hard, watching Addison out of the corner of my eye. She hadn't missed a beat, her focus solely on the spreadsheet in front of her. Her fingers moved swiftly across the calculator keys, her eyes focused on the screen. It was if we were still discussing which terminal I'd pick them up at.
"Steve, you okay?" Marcus asked, snapping me out of my daze.
"Yeah," I replied, my voice a bit shaky. "Just thinking about the logistics. Tyler and Marcus at 9 AM, and I'll drop them at the house. Jake at 1 PM. That'll give us some time to reminisce before dinner."
We agreed, said our goodbyes, and ended the call.
Addison, not looking up, said, "All set for your boy’s weekend, sweetie?" Her tone was pleasant, as if she hadn't heard a word.
"Yeah, we're doing steak on Friday, so we should do something else for lunch on Sunday."
Finally stopping work, she turned to me and smiled. "I've arranged for Terry Black to come in and cater. Chicken, ribs, brisket, and all the trimmings, and a server to make drinks. That way I'll get a chance to talk to your friends, without having to run out to the kitchen every 10 seconds, or play waitress. Just make sure we have enough beer and whatever else your friends want to drink."
"Will do," I said. "Sounds like you have everything in hand."
"That's what they pay me for," she said, smiling at the double meaning. We both laughed.
The only downside of the next week was Addison kept me celibate as she worked late at the office. I was a bit surprised when I woke up on Friday morning to find that she was gone, as if she actually had a business trip. Did she have a business trip? I checked Google calendar and it said she was going to be in New York through Sunday morning. For a moment I wondered if I had been hallucinating our visit to the Best Rest Ho-tel. Or maybe she had chickened out? Not a problem, as there were plenty of ho’s to fill in for her, but it would be something of a disappointment, even if it was also a relief.
In truth, despite all the preparation, I doubted Addison could pull this off. They weren’t just going to meet her on Friday, or see her, they were going to fuck her. Could you really fuck someone and not recognize them a few hours later?
Alison had her cleaning crew in, and the house was gleaming. The guest house had been cleaned within an inch of its life. As always, Addison had gone all out. The pool looked like a postcard, and there were fresh flowers everywhere. The guest house had been stocked with towels, snacks, and booze. The main house smelled like heaven. I did notice that any pictures of her or us together had been removed.
When I picked them up at the airport, the guys were all smiles, slapping me on the back like I had just scored the winning touchdown. Tyler looked like he had hit the gym extra hard, his arms bulging out of his sleeves. Marcus had put on a few pounds, but he still had that same shit-eating grin he'd had in high school.
The guys teased me about the guardhouse, and asked if I lived in a prison. I don’t think they had ever been in a gated community. The laughter ended as we turned onto the long, circular driveway. "Holy shit, Steve," Marcus said, his eyes wide as we pulled up to the front portico. "You're not fucking kidding, this place is a palace!"
"Yeah, Addison's quite the little breadwinner," I chuckled. "We sure can't afford this on my salary."
"You really won the lottery, Steve," Tyler agreed. "I can't wait to meet her."
"Yeah, she's a keeper," I agreed, not revealing that they'd be meeting her sooner than they thought.
Marcus and Tyler didn't waste any time. They tossed their luggage into the guest house and immediately peeled off their clothes, diving into the pool with the reckless abandon of teenagers. As I drove away to pick up Jake, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement and a touch of apprehension.
The airport was a bustling hub of activity, a stark contrast to the serene oasis of our gated community. As I waited at the terminal, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong. This plan was too complex not to have complications. When I spotted Jake striding towards me, looking just as cocky as ever, my nerves began to jangle. He definitely had that High School vibe going on, which meant tonight was going to be wild.
Back at the house, the beer and conversation flowed easily. It was like we were still in school, and I realized how much I loved these guys. They had been with me through the best and worst times, and now we were together again, reunited by a mix of nostalgia and beer. We sat around the pool, our laughter echoing off the tiles, and I felt a camaraderie that I hadn't experienced since my teenage years with them.
Jake teased me for drinking Arnold Palmer's, calling me too fancy to just have tea or lemonade. I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. "Someone's gotta drive, and keep their wits about them," I said, gesturing to the cooler overflowing with bottles of beer. "We don't want our weekend to end in jail."
"Not before we bang our hooker," Jake said. Everyone agreed that was a must, and no longer resisting, I played along, hoping that Addison wasn't really in New York, and hoping she was in New York, to avoid the embarrassment of explaining to the guys how they had banged my wife when they met her on Sunday.
As we sat down at the plush gray seats in Cut & Bourbon, the waiter came over, and Tyler and Marcus practically drooled over the menu. They ordered the bone-in rib-eyes, while Jake went for the Tomahawk. My pals were ordinary, working-class guys, not used to fancy places, and it was fun treating them
The steaks arrived, perfectly seasoned and sizzling, and the guys dug in like they hadn't eaten in weeks. They didn't say much, just grunts of pleasure as they savored each bite. The silence was punctuated by the clinking of silverware and the occasional, "Fuck, Steve, this is the best steak I've ever had."
I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at their reactions. Addison's success had provided us with a lifestyle that I'd never thought I'd have. The tax attorney gig was more lucrative than any of us had ever imagined, and she'd worked hard to get where she was. Watching my friends revel in the luxury she provided was a bit surreal, but it was also incredibly fun.
Addison had suggested Cut & Bourbon, and had arranged the sky-box. It occurred to me that in addition to her innate generosity, she was furthering her disguise by establishing her identity as a rich and powerful attorney before she even met them. Doubtlessly they were forming an image of her every bit as strong as their vision of the whore they intended to fuck. The two images were diametrically opposed, which played perfectly into Addison's ruse. Ever the lawyer, even when she wasn’t in the room she was arguing her case.
As we chewed on our succulent steaks, the guys talked about their jobs, wives and ex-wife's. Tyler had a kid. The usual stuff guys talk about when they're trying to impress each other. I nodded along, adding a few anecdotes about Addison's career, her testimony before Congress, playing up her toughness and her success. They listened with rapt attention as I described the case she had argued before the Supreme Court. They didn't understand the details, but they were clearly impressed, and maybe a bit intimidated. It was a strange role reversal, knowing what was about to happen.
The game was a blowout with Dallas quickly running up the score, much to the delight of everyone at the stadium. But in truth, we didn't care. We were too busy getting hammered on the free drinks. The sky-box had a bar and a fridge stocked with everything from craft beers to top shelf whiskey, and the server was a blonde bombshell who had clearly been hired for her looks rather than her knowledge of the menu.
I didn't recognize anyone else in the box, but they were all so rowdy and drunk it didn't matter what the boys and I did. Everyone in the box was there to get drunk and burn money.
As we left the stadium, the cool night air hit us like a slap in the face, sobering us up enough to make the short walk to the car. Marcus and Tyler stumbled along like two sailors who hadn't seen land in a year. Jake had a bit more control, but not much. The game had been a blast, the booze had been free, and now it was time for the main event.
I texted Addison that we were on our way, and she responded with a simple "BUSY. NEED 30." It was a surprising message, as I had thought she'd be watching the game, and it wasn't like her not to be ready. Still, it was about a 30-minute ride to the motel, so the timing would work perfectly.
As we approached the Best Rest Motel, the guys were so drunk I was afraid they might barf in the back seat. Marcus had passed out in the co-pilot's seat. It was dark, and the motel looked even sleazier than it had when we had been there before. The lights flickered and the neon sign was half burned out. The parking lot was full of beat-up cars and a couple of sketchy characters lurking in the shadows. It was like we had stepped into a scene from a Tarantino film.
My heart raced as we pulled into the Best Rest Motel. The guys were too drunk to notice my anxiety, still raving about the game. I parked the car and peered into the murky night, searching for Addison. She was supposed to be waiting on the street corner, dressed as our sleazy hooker, but she was nowhere to be found. My mind raced with scenarios. Had she chickened out? Or has something gone wrong?
"Come on, let's get this show on the road," Tyler slurred, slapping my shoulder. Marcus and Jake were already half out of the car, eager to live out their high school fantasy. "Which whore looks the sleaziest, Steve?"
"Yeah, you're the designated driver. You can be the designated pimp, too."
I looked at the room we had planned on using, 114. Much to my surprise the door opened and a hooker in denim skirt, pink halter top, and cowboy boots sauntered out. The John she had just finished with was squeezing her ass, but it was clear that she was done with him, and was already looking for the next customer.
As the cowboy boots hooker approached the car, she gave us all a wink, her teeth gleaming in the dim parking lot lights. She was heavily made up, and her pokies were pointing straight at us. She was incredibly hot, and as she walked towards us the guys began rocking the car in approval.
"Evening, fellas," she said, her voice a smoky drawl that made my blood run hot. "Looking for a good time?"
The blonde hair had thrown me. Addison had dyed her hair blonde! With the thick makeup and blonde hair, I hadn't even recognized her. She had really gone all in for this role-play. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned into the car, her tits spilling out of the too-tight halter top. "How about you give me a ride?" she purred, her Southern accent thick enough to cut with a knife.
Marcus and Tyler cheered; their drunken enthusiasm infectious. Marcus fumbled with his wallet, pulling out a wad of cash.
Addison was unimpressed. "All four of you, $100 each," she purred. "Believe me, I'm worth it."
The guys looked at each other, and then at me. I nodded, trying to keep a straight face. "It's your party, boys. Ready to spend some of my rich wife's money?"
They didn't need another invitation. Marcus and Tyler stumbled out of the car, their hands grabbing at her breasts and ass, as she led us back to room 114. It was weird watching them grope my wife like she was a side of beef, but weirder still to see her smile while thru the rude fondling.
"Damn, it's even the same fucking room!" Tyler called out, marveling at the carefully arranged coincidence.
The shitty room was still shitty, but what I noticed immediately was the used condoms covering the floor of the wastebasket by the door. I realized now that Addison had needed more time since she was with a customer! Her makeup was a bit of a mess, and she had clearly just been fucked. I was shocked, and wondered how long she had been here, sucking and fucking.
Judging from the stink of her, she had been working all day. She smelled of dried cum, pussy juice, and the putrid room. But the real shocker was when I saw Jake fondle her ass and realized she was wearing the missing tooth’s whore’s crusty panties, still unwashed and stained. The thought of my wife’s sweet, perfect pussy encased in the accumulated slime of a real whore’s panties made my penis throb against my pants.
Marcus and Tyler stumbled into the room after her, their eyes glazed over with booze and lust. They hadn't noticed the condoms in the garbage, or maybe they had and were too drunk to care. Why should they notice them? She was a whore, after all.
I surveyed the room with a growing sense of revulsion. The bed was a mess of sheets and sweat, and the smell of sex was heavy in the air. The TV was playing some shitty porn with the sound turned off. A reusable dollar store shopping bag containing Addison's worldly possessions sat in the corner. It looked like she had been here for a while.
Addison strutted over to the mirror and checked herself out, smoothing down her skirt. "Looking good, baby," she said to herself, her voice low and seductive. Apparently noticing my disgust at the smell, she asked, "Should I shower first, boys?" she purred. "Sorry, weekends are crazy busy." I bet.
"No, we want you wet and stinky," a drunken Tyler said.
Marcus agreed. "Yeah, a hot, stinky whore."
"Dance for us, bitch," Jake said.
Addison's eyes narrowed and she smacked her gum loudly. "You gotta pay up first, honey," she drawled. I quickly counted the money out into her hand. I tried to make eye contact with her, but she was staring at the bills, mouthing it out as if counting was now somehow a challenge for her. She was in character, but whether she was playing a role or was the role was becoming increasingly difficult to discern.
As Addison started her outrageous bump-and-grind strip, I reflected on her preparations. The other girls on the street seemed to know her now. Addison had pretended to leave for New York on Friday, and now it was Saturday. Had she spent Friday night at the ho-tell, getting fucked by strangers? How many guys had she taken on in the last 36 hours?
Her dance was crude, exaggerated, and absolutely mesmerizing. She had the moves of a seasoned pro, and she was working the room like it was her stage. Marcus and Tyler were practically drooling as they watched her hips gyrate and her tits bounce. Jake had his phone out, filming it all. She didn't object, so neither did I.
When she took her skirt off I saw the red panties were more disgusting than ever. Even Jake noticed, joking that “yer’ beaver covers look like the beaver died.”
"Looks like someone's been a busy bee," Marcus said, leering. "Those panties are wet from her ho-honey."
“That’s because I got myself hot and juicy all day, dreaming of your big dicks,” she drawled.
Addison peeled her panties down and off, tossing them aside. She wasn’t a natural blonde, but she’d overcome that problem by shaving her pussy bare as a billiard ball. Better for fast cleanups, too.
Addison gave Marcus a lap dance. She really got into it, and he had to push her off him and onto the floor to keep from cumming.
"Damn bitch, I'm going to mess my pants before I even have any fun," he complained.
"You can always go a second time," she purred. "For a little extra. No rest for the wicked."
She had game: make them cum quick, then up-charge them. She had been a clever tax attorney, now she was a clever ho.
"Blow me," Marcus ordered. Smiling, Addison sank to her knees, and quickly unpacked the condom, making a basket from about 10 feet away. It was a perfect shot: Addison was great at everything. But a condom wrapper wasn’t a basketball, and her skill at making the basket made me wonder how long she had been in the room.
"Looks like you're a pro at this," Jake said, his voice thick with lust. "How many cocks did you suck last night?"
"Lots, she said. "But none as big as yours, Mister," she said to Marcus, who smiled broadly at the classic whore's lie, as the rest of us laughed.
The boys were clearly impressed, and Jake responded by coming up from behind and roughly kicking her legs apart. “Wow, that is some well used pussy,” he said, noticing the smell of her even through his drunken haze. She tossed him a rubber, and he quickly put it on. "I want me some of that skanky hooker pussy!" he said.
Addison giggled, then spread her legs, sticking her ass out at Jake. She had the moves down. She had watched enough porn to make this look like a professional show, and the guys were eating it up. She grunted as Jake drove his big dick into her and began humping her vigorously.
Tyler sat down on the floor for his hand job, and I sat on the other side. Soon, Addison was working all four of our dicks, stroking us like the pro she now was.
The porn on the TV had switched to a scene with a woman getting double-penetrated by two burly men. The contrast between the porn and our own little scene was not lost on me. This was definitely not what I had imagined our reunion to be like. But here we were, living out our high school fantasy, with my prim-and-proper tax attorney wife transformed into the whore of our dreams.
Addison's hands were a blur as she stroked Tyler and me in perfect rhythm with Jake's thrusts. Marcus, screamed and blew his load. Falling backwards, he passed out on the bed, snoring like a chainsaw. Tyler's eyes were wide and wild as he watched himself in the mirror, her hand a blur as she matched the timing of Jake's piston-like thrusts into her pussy. He was going to blow any second, and I could feel my own climax building.
But then Tyler abruptly pulled away. "Fuck, I don't wanna waste it in your hand," he slurred. "I'm gonna stick it in your ho ass."
I couldn't argue with that logic. The hand job was great, but fucking her was going to be a whole other level of amazing. Jake, reaching the end, thrust harder, grunting like a pig as he thanked the stars for her sloppy but snappy pussy.
"Motherfucker!" Jake screamed as he orgasmed inside of her. He tried to breathe, but couldn't, finally collapsing onto his side and rolling across the filthy rug to rest against the wall.
Tyler wasted no time, and with a bit of difficulty slid it into Addison’s tight ass. It was funny seeing the grimace on her face as he drove it in. Addison didn’t like anal, but I suspect the last few hours had loosened her up in every sense. She perfectly found his rhythm, and gave me a knowing smirk as he grunted in satisfaction, breaking character for a fraction of a second.
I watched them in the mirror, Tyler's muscular body flexing as he pumped away at her. Her breasts bounced with every thrust, and she was clearly enjoying herself.
"How much for bareback?" I asked, playing along.
"In my mouth?" she asked. Unlike my wife, the ho didn't look disgusted, just curious about how to set the rate.
"Yeah, I want to blow my load in your mouth, and have you swish it around," I said. "Like the tasty dairy treat that it is."
"Mmmm... sound delicious," she purred, seemingly oblivious to the fucking Tyrone was giving her. "That will be $750, sweetie."
"Jesus!" Tyler exclaimed, his rhythm faltering for a second. "Not worth it!"
But Addison's eyes locked onto mine. "I'll make it worth it. You'll see."
Tyrone looked at me with a smirk, his cock still buried deep inside her. "Your money, Steve," he said, his voice thick with lust.
In point of fact, it was Addison's money, and she was bargaining to pay herself. I had come with wads of her cash, as I was prepared for insane pricing for extras she could sell to desperate Johns in the spur of the moment. I knew all the little whore’s tricks.
“Too much for you?” she said. “I thought I was going to get a real ride, and all I got is a bunch of old men, too drunk and too cheap to get it up. Sort of disappointing.”
I looked down at my wife’s smug grin. One of my wife’s characteristics is that winning is never enough for her. She always has to push it, and run up the score. She ran a mile after she finished her marathon.
Addison had wanted to challenge herself, which is why she had turned our routine fuck-and-suck into a weekend at the whore hotel.
Sensing she was getting too comfortable with her win, I decided to up the ante. "I'll give you $1,000, but I want to see some girl-on-girl."
Addison's eyes widened, and I could tell I had thrown her off her game. "Seriously?" she asked, her voice a mix of shock and excitement. "I don't really do that, Mister," I said.
"Do I need to go talk to your pimp about what you will and won't do?" I asked pointedly.
Addison's eyes widened in genuine fear. I knew that in order to work here, she must have stricken some sort of deal with the pimp that ran the place. She might be playing games with us, but he was not. Clearly she didn't want to risk displeasing him.
For a moment, her Southern accent faded, even as behind her Tyler pounded away. "He has a leather belt he spanks the girls with," she whispered. "Don't even joke about going to Jamal."
I looked at the whore kneeling before me, my face implacable. "Ouch", I said, without breaking a smile, or showing the slightest trace of sympathy for her predicament.
Tyler pulled out of her ass and gave her a hard slap across her bottom, causing her to wince. "Go get the other girl, bitch" he ordered. "I want to see some rug munching!"
Addison glared daggers at me, but quickly pulled on her skirt and top. "You'll pay for the other girl out of your end," I said. "I don't negotiate twice." Addison had been extracting money from me and my drunken friends all night, and now that I had the leather belt in my hand, I intended to use it.
She wanted to disappear for a day and a half, to be treated like a whore? Fine. I'd treat her like a whore.
In less than 3 minutes, Addison returned with the toothless whore. Stripping quickly, they started to 69 each on the rug. I watched in amazement as my wife stuck her dainty, Supreme Court tongue into the whore's gamy pussy. However, seeing my Addison’s wet, split beaver, and the other whore licking her clit, I wasn't sure which pussy was sloppier.
Both of them were grunting and their clits were out and quivering. It was clear that they were competing to get the other to cum. My wife, ever competitive, was determined not to lose.
I walked around them in a slow circle, sizing up the action as I dropped bills on the floor, counting out the money as Addison humiliated herself for my viewing pleasure. I don’t know what was more amazing, seeing her tongue the whore’s rancid meat, or seeing her pussy twitch like it was electrified. It was definitely time for my phone to come out. This porno was too good not to film.
I zoomed in to get a close up on Addison's face as she teased the other whore's pussy, her tongue rising to wash it clean. Addison's eyes widened as she discovered that she wasn't the only hooker willing to go bareback, as the accumulated spluge from the other's whore's long night ran out onto Addison's tongue and into her mouth and she was forced to let a river of countless ejaculations run into her mouth.
"You have found the two most disgusting ho's in Dallas," Marcus slurred, stroking his own dick in hand as he briefly woke from his drinking coma.
I took off my belt, smiling as Addison's eyes widened in fear. Now that I knew what motivated her, I knew exactly what to do. Walking behind her, I raised the belt high and brought it down on her ass, hard. "Come for me, bitch!" I shouted. "Show me what a whore you are. Make your pussy squirt for me."
SNAP!
“Do it now, or you’ll get worse from Jamal,” I barked.
The third stroke of my leather belt across her raised ass did it. Addison came, and a gush of pussy juice and sperm spurted out. I zoomed in the camera, recording her geyser of goo for posterity. The volume was amazing. Apparently, I wasn't the first person to pay her for bareback that weekend, and the disgusting whore hadn't even bothered to scrub out her twat before selling it to me and my friends.
"Oh, God," Addison moaned, collapsing onto the floor, her body shuddering with the intensity of her orgasm. The toothless whore looked at Addison with a mix of envy and annoyance.
Addison was spent, but dutifully licked the missing tooth whore to climax.
After the show, Tyler and I had had enough, but the missing tooth whore lingered, eager for more. She had the hungry look of a stray dog who hadn't had a decent meal in days. "You guys want me to suck some dicks?" she offered, her voice hopeful. "$25."
I glanced over at Tyler, who was clearly waiting for his chance to ride Addison again. "Nah, we're good," he said, tossing her a $20 tip. "We only came for the VIP experience." He gestured to Addison, who was now lying on her back, panting and sweaty on the floor. She looked like she had been through the wringer.
When the other whore left, we quickly put Addison back into her place. I smiled down at her as Tyler slid into her ass for a second time, causing her to wince. Enjoying my power, I wiped my pre-cum on her red lips. Looking up at me with the newfound respect, the obedient whore opened her pie-hole and slid her tongue over the head of my penis, engulfing me in a wave of pleasure.
Her eyes never left mine as she began to deep-throat me. The sight of her on her knees, hooker makeup smeared, humiliated, exhausted, and broken, with my cock in her mouth was beyond erotic. She sucked me for all she was worth, as behind her, Tyler grunted towards his climax.
During our months of "street training", Addison had always used a condom, up until now. Addison was taking it all, her eyes watering as she worked her mouth around me, her throat taking all of my length, her cheeks hollowed out. She sucked me like it was an Olympic event, the 90 second orgasm.
Tyler's eyes rolled back into his head as he shot his load deep inside her ass, his body convulsing. He collapsed onto her back, his cock slipping out of her with a wet sound. "Oh, my God, oh, my God," he panted. "That was the best... fuck... I've ever had."
Tyler, drunk and satisfied, lay on the floor, oblivious to the world.
"It's worth every penny," I whispered hoarsely. Never breaking eye contact with me made me feel all powerful as she eagerly sucked my pecker.
Her mouth was a warm, wet heaven, and I could feel my balls tightening. I knew I was going to blow, and I didn't want to hold back. But I also didn't want this to end. The fantasy of watching my beautiful wife become a dirty hooker was better than any porn I had ever seen. The reality was so much more intense than I had imagined.
But the pressure was too much. With a roar, I shot my load into her mouth. She swallowed, and kept sucking, milking every last drop out of me. I collapsed onto the bed next to Marcus, who was snoring so loudly he was competing with the air conditioning.
Addison wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Well, that's that," she said, keeping her hooker drawl as she shrugged on her clothes. "You give me a shout if your friends wake up, and want some more. But I want them out of the room in 20 minutes. I'm not sucking Johns off in the alley all night so you four can have a snooze fest.”
"What do you mean?" I said, breaking character to whisper in her ear. "Aren't you coming home?"
Staying very much IN character, Addison looked genuinely confused. "This is my home, sweetie. And I got a quota to keep. I gotta make my numbers, or Jamal’s gonna tan my ass."
Addison took Jake's phone out of his pocket and used his face to unlock it. She quickly deleted the photos and videos he had taken of her before removing the pass-code and dropping the phone into her purse.
I had thought she was kidding, but sure enough, she left, closing the door behind her. Opening the drapes, I watched her walk across the lot and scurry over to a shiny purple Cadillac Escalade, leaning into the window to hand over all the money she had just earned. I didn't get a look at Jamal, but saw his large hand come out to scratch her behind the ear, like she was a golden retriever worthy of praise. Soon she was back on the sidewalk, calling out to cars as they passed, strutting her stuff with the other whores.
The sight was jolting. Addison was really playing this out. I felt a mix of excitement, fear, and confusion. This was our fantasy, but seeing her live it out was something else. It was like watching a movie, but knowing the star was my wife was mind blowing.
I looked around the room. The guys were still out cold. Marcus had his mouth open and drooling. Tyler was on the bed, his dick hanging out like a forgotten Christmas ham. Jake was still on the floor, looking comfortably comatose.
They had all had their fun, and now it was my turn to play babysitter. I stumbled over to the bed and kicked Tyler's leg. "Hey, buddy," I whispered. "We gotta go. They gotta turn the room."
He grunted and rolled over, his eyes barely open. "Where's the ho?"
"Back at work. Come on, let's go."
"I wanna go again," he said. "That was the best fuck ever."
"With what?" I said. "Your dick looks like a melted butter patty."
He looked down at his dick, wet from her juices. "Yeah, I'm done," he said, laughing. I helped him up, and he stumbled into my car.
The night air was a blast of reality after the stifling room. The motel's neon sign flickered, casting a garish light on the sad parade of hookers and their johns. Addison had disappeared, probably into a car with some new client. Quality like that wouldn't have to troll for long.
I managed to get Tyler into the car, his legs moving like a rag doll as I propped him into the passenger seat. He was out cold, not even stirring as I buckled him in. Jake and Marcus were a tougher sell. They were sprawled on the bed like a couple of sacks of potatoes, and I couldn't rouse them. I had to use brute force to carry them to the car. They were still breathing, but were so stoned I wondered if I should take them to the hospital. I decided against it, as being ridden to death by my hooker wife would look weird in their obituary.
Once all three were in the car, I turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, but none of them budged. I drove them back to the house, careful not to hit any bumps that would jar them awake. By this time they had sobered enough to make it to their beds, but barely.
Back home, I couldn't shake the image of Addison out of my head. The way she had strutted across the motel room, so confident and in character, had been a turn on unlike anything I had ever felt before. I sat in the dark living room, waiting for her to return. The silence was deafening, only broken by the occasional groan from one of my snoring friends upstairs.
As the hours ticked by, the excitement grew into anxiety. What if she had taken the role-play too far? What if something had gone wrong? I tried to convince myself that she was just playing along, that this was all part of the fantasy we had created. But the thought of her out there, with strangers, doing who knows what, was too much to bear.
How late was Jamal going to work her? I was used to seeing her work all night during tax season; I guess Saturday night is busy season for whores.
I watched the video of her gushing pussy and pussy licking, and stroked myself to climax. I had a new favorite movie. I finally fell asleep on our bed, with my phone on my chest, exhausted by the day’s events.
I woke up to the bright sound of voices and laughter. I couldn't believe it was almost noon. Not sure of what to expect, I walked downstairs tentatively. I saw Allison's suitcase was still in the hallway, next to Jake's. She had arrived "from New York" and he was already packed to depart.
Jake and Marcus were on the couch, looking like they had been hit by a truck. They both had dark circles under their eyes and their skin had the sickly pallor of a man who hadn't seen sunlight in weeks. Tyler, however, was sitting in one of the leather chairs, looking a bit better. Two of the caterers were setting up the BBQ near the wet bar.
Addison smiled warmly as I entered the room. She was holding court, leaning agains the minibar, the epitome of sophisticated elegance. She was wearing designer jeans, a plain white blouse, and an Armani jacket. Her hair was now back to its original dark brown, and to my surprise had been cut short into a pixie cut. She was wearing her wire rim glasses. It was a casual look, but she had dressed it up a bit with a "casual" Prada jacket. I'm sure her guests didn't appreciate labels, but they knew she looked classy as hell.
After seeing her hair long for so many months, it was wild seeing her wearing a pixie cut. It looked great on her, because everything looked great on her.
"Well, well, sleepy head, welcome to the land of the living," she said, rising to give me a kiss on the cheek. "Figures you'd wake up in time to eat."
Everyone laughed as I kissed her back and I told her I missed her. Jake whispered, "Not that much," before Tyler shot him a look.
Addison's southern drawl was gone, and she was using the crisp Trans-Atlantic, old money accent she had learned growing up in Boston and working in DC. "Your friends were just telling me about the game. They said the steak was excellent, the Cowboys won, and they are looking forward to a BBQ sauce cure for their hangovers."
"The food will definitely help," Jake said, holding his head.
"You're not kidding," Marcus agreed, looking around blearily.
Addison looked over at the caterers and clapped her hands together. "Alright, let's get this show on the road, shall we?" she said in her usual commanding tone. She had switched from the sultry Southern hooker to the sophisticated hostess so seamlessly that it was almost unnerving. “You boys ready for BBQ?”
She effortlessly exuded old money and class, tending to the hungover men with the grace of a seasoned socialite. She fetched Jake an ice-pack for his swollen head and brought Marcus a large, fluffy cushion to ease his aching back. Every gesture was executed with a poise that seemed to mock the sordid scene from the night before. Yet, it was this very transformation that made it impossible to reconcile the two women they were spending time with.
Unlike the brash, vulgar whore from last night, Addison's charm was infectious. Even through their hangovers, they couldn't help but be drawn to her. She chatted away, sharing stories of her 'business trip' and asking after their evening's escapades. The conversation remained light, peppered with laughter and playful jibes, all of which she handled with the ease of a woman who had been born and bred for society. The hotel where she had fucked and sucked them dry might as well be on another planet.
The caterer had the BBQ on the wet bar, and we all grabbed a plateful and had at it. Addison, keeping in character, mostly picked at her salad, although even she couldn't resist a bit of the legendary beef brisket.
“This is the best BBQ I’ve ever had,” Jake said, and the others agreed. Addison, who liked being the best, smiled at the compliment. She had given the best BBQ, the best steak, and the best lay they had ever had.
"I'm glad you guys had fun last night," she said. "Steve told me you had even more fun the night you graduated from High School. Something about a hooker in some sleazy hotel, I believe?"
I tensed. Clearly Addison wasn’t satisfied with the win. She always spotted me whenever we played chess or golf or tennis, because “it isn’t fun if it’s too easy.”
The four of us exchanged glances, like naughty boys who had been caught jerking off. Jake's eyes widened. "Well, we were kids back then, Addison," he said. "You know how it is."
"Yeah," Tyler said. "We'd never do something like that now," Tyler said, protesting innocence before even being accused.
"You'd better not," she said, wagging her finger. "Steve is spoken for, and I don't want him bringing some weird disease back into our bedroom."
"I'd never do that, Addison," I said, kinda truthfully. "You know you're the only girl for me."
"Yeah, besides, your way prettier than any hooker I've ever seen," Marcus said.
It was clear that Addison was enjoying this. She liked to live on the edge, and her tease was making me rock hard. "Are you sure?" she said, stepping out from behind the bar. "Look closely," she said, as she did a slow turn. “Some of those hookers are pretty hot.”
The guys did as they were told. They looked closely. Very closely. Addison was beautiful.
"You're hotter than any hooker I've ever seen," Jake said.
Feigning embarrassment, Addison demurred. “You’re sweet, but I’m not that pretty. For one thing, I got this stupid mole on my neck," she said, laughing as tapped her throat.
Addison’s expression changed into a scowl as she fished the phone out of her pocket. "Sorry. Work call. No rest for the wicked, guys."
Addison left the room, her voice receding as she discussed a tax refiling until the study door finally shut.
"Damn, your wife is hot, Steve," Marcus said.
"Yeah, man, and she's got that classy look, too. You're lucky to have scored her."
"Seriously, Steve," Tyler said, his mouth still half-full of BBQ. "I don't know how you managed to get such a gorgeous woman to marry you. And she can throw a party like nobody's business."
"Smart too," Jake said. "And she even comes with her own mansion and sky-box."
Everyone laughed.
"Yeah, she's got class," Tyler added. "It's like she's not even from the same species as that ho we had last night."
"I'm sorry I fell asleep," Jake said regretfully. "What we should have done was get a bunch of the bums from the alley have her suck and fuck them."
Everyone laughed as I heard the floorboards in the hallway creek. I knew Addison was listening to every word, and I was hoping she wouldn't pass out in the hallway after hearing Jake's suggestion.
Marcus nodded. "What a cum rag she was. Hot as fuck, though. She drained my balls like she had a hoover in her mouth."
Tyler nodded, his eyes glazed over with memories. "Seriously, man," he said. "I've never had a woman that good, that hot, that... willing to do whatever for more money."
Marcus took a swig of his beer, nodding his head in agreement. "Some women are born classy, like Addison. And some are born whores," he said.
Jake looked at me with a knowing smile. "Steve, you're one lucky son of a bitch," he said. "You've got the best of both worlds. A classy wife with a mansion and her own sky-box, and a skanky ho you can fuck a car ride away."
I heard the floorboard near the doorway creak and knew that Addison was just out of earshot, listening to every word. No doubt she agreed that she was the best of both worlds.
"Weird thing is, though," Jake said, his voice thick with BBQ sauce, "You know that mole Addison has, the one on her neck?" He pointed to his neck, just below his ear. "The ho from last night had one in the same place, didn’t she?"
"Really?" I said, acting surprised. "I didn't notice."
"No, he's right," Tyler said. I sucked on it when I was fucking her. Same mole, same location. Weird, since the girl last night looked so different, with the long hair. Plus, she was skinnier, and had bigger tits. No offense, Steve."
"None taken," I said truthfully.
"Yeah, Addison's hot, but in an entirely different way. Sky-box hot," Marcus said. Everyone laughed.
"Maybe there's some weird Southern sister fucker hillbilly mole thing going on in Dallas, where all the women have the same mole," Jake said, laughing.
"Well, Addison was born Boston Brahmin, but coincidences happen," I said, finishing a rib.
"That thing about no rest for the wicked," Jake said. "Didn’t the ho say the same thing?"
"It’s Addison’s favorite musical. Like I said, coincidences happen," I said dismissively.
The study door opened, and Addison feigned coming out and walking down the hall. "Sorry about that, you guys done eating?" she asked.
"Oh, God yes," Tyler said, patting his stomach. "I'm stuffed. That was amazing."
"Thanks," Addison said, smiling sweetly. "I'm so glad you all enjoyed it. Anyone interested in dessert? We got brownies and cakes to die for."
We all groaned, patting our stomachs. "I think we're all set, Addison," Marcus said, speaking for the group. "That was a feast."
"No dessert?" she asked, pouting playfully. "I had the caterers go all out."
"Have them pack them some brownies," I suggested. "They can snack on the plane if they get a flight delay."
"Good idea," she said. "I'll have it packed up for you."
Alison disappeared into the kitchen. I could see Jake, Marcus, and Tyler exchanging glances as they stared at her ass. Her elegant stride wasn't a match to the swaying ass they had seen last night, but I could tell she had planted the seeds.
Addison returned. "You're the only one who hasn't checked your phone, Jake," she noted. "I admire that."
"I can't find my phone," Jake said, his voice a mix of panic and embarrassment. "I had it when we were at the motel."
"What motel?" Addison asked innocently.
We all shot Jake a look. "No motel," he said, sounding very unconvincing. "I lost it in a place... let's just say it's gone."
“If you want to use a phone, you can use the one in the office,” Addison said. “It’s right at the end of the hallway,” she said, pointing the way.
Now it was my turn to look appalled. The phone in the kitchen was literally 10 feet away. The study had the PRETTY WOMAN poster, and the poster of
ANGEL: High School Student By Day. Hollywood Hooker By Night.
"No, we need to get to the airport," Jake said, clearly wanting to end the conversation.
"I can drive you," I offered.
"No, no," Addison said, her smile widening. "I've got it covered. I already called for a stretch limo. Nothing but the best for your friends."
“Anyone want to go see the picture of me and John Roberts in my study?” she asked brightly.
“Who?” Tyler asked.
The sound of the limo's horn echoed through the quiet neighborhood, and the three men looked at each other with excitement. The idea of leaving in style was too good to pass up, especially after the wild night they had just experienced. They took their bags out to the driveway, still trying to piece together the events of the previous evening.
As the limos pulled up, Addison bid them farewell with the same poise she had shown all morning. She hugged each of them goodbye, her embrace lingering slightly longer with each one, as if she were a fond acquaintance they hadn't seen in years.
Marcus was first, and as he wrapped his arms around her. He looked at her mouth closely, but the soft pink lipstick bore no resemblance to the apple red vacuum cleaner nozzle that had wrapped around his dick and sucked him dry. I could see his nose twitch slightly. He breathed in deep, trying to detect the pussy stink that she had exuded as the result of her hard driving weekend 'night shift'. But the stink of filthy hooker snatch was nowhere to be found, and instead he smelled the $1,700 an ounce Baccarat Les Larmes Sacrees de Thebes she favored on the weekends.
He smiled at her warmly, his expression making his verdict clear: no match.
When Tyler hugged her, his hands lingered on her back, feeling the firmness of her body through her blouse. He had felt those same curves last night, but they were sticky with sweat and semen. Now, all he felt was a soft Prada jacket. His eyes zeroed in on the mole on her neck, comparing it to the one he had sucked on. He smiled. No, definitely not the same. Not even close.
Jake was next, his arms wrapping around her waist as if to weigh her. I could see her press down, trying to appear heavier. His grip was firm, but not as firm as it had been in the motel room when he had her bent her over. He leaned in to whisper thank you in her ear, and as he did, he took a deep breath, searching for the scent and grazing her hair with his hand, checking the texture. He stared hard at her, but then relaxed. "Addison, Steve is a lucky man. You are one of a kind."
Again, it was clear he hadn't made the match. She smiled back and waved as he got into the car.
She turned and grinned at me in triumph as the limo rounded the corner. Even after giving them enough clues for a season of Law & Order, they still hadn’t been able to tie the two Addison’s together.
"What did you do with Jake's phone?" I asked as the limo vanished.
"I stuffed it in his suitcase," she said, her smile as sweet as honey. "On top where he couldn't miss it."
"Not very subtle," I said.
Addison smiled. "He's pretty hung over. I don't think any of them know what they're doing at this point."
"I know what I'm doing," I said, pulling her in close.
She laughed as I tried to kiss her. "Not on the mouth," she teased.
“And what’s with the posters in the study?” I said challenging her. “Why don’t you just write WHORE on your forehead in red lipstick?”
“Because it’s more fun to leave them wondering. You need to get more fun out of life, Steve.”
Pulling her closer, I tried to put my tongue in her mouth, but she pulled back.
"I have to get back to work, Steve," she said, pushing me away. "Just because I take the day off doesn't mean the work goes away."
"So, the fun’s over?" I said, disappointed.
“Yeah, and give me your cell phone, smart ass,” she said.
She pursed her lips as she watched the video of her gushing pussy. “Ewww! This is totally disgusting! You should be ashamed,” she said.
“I should be ashamed?” I said, surprised at how completely her attitude had flipped from ho to Harvard.
Disgusting as the skanky whore on the video was, she kept watching, wincing through her spanking.
“That belt really hurt, asshole.”
“It was supposed to. You’re lucky I didn’t tell Jamal on your ass.”
At the mention of Jamal, my wife's calm sophistication vanished and she actually blanched. "Trust me, he was nothing to joke about!" she said, instinctively reaching back to rub her bottom. "I never want to see a red leather belt again."
I smiled as she rubbed her obviously sore bottom. I had noticed that I hadn't seen Addison sit down since her return. Knowing how she liked to push buttons and test boundaries, I wondered if she might not have pulled some of her shit with the wrong pimp after we had left her at the hotel. I smiled at the sight of my feminist, GIRL BOSS wife trembling at the very thought of her pimp's leather belt.
"What's the matter, didn't you make your quota?" I teased.
At the slightest hint of failure, my wife's competitive hackles raised. "For your information, smart ass, he made me do twice as many tricks as the other girls, and I blew past every sales target he set."
Addison, in corporate mode, didn't see the irony of "blowing past" her targets, but I enjoyed her poor word choice for her. "So if you were so good, why are you rubbing your bottom."
"He said I was sassy, and had a smart mouth," she said, her voice betraying both her defiance as well her embarrassment at being punished in such a degrading way. "He said I needed to be taught a lesson."
I laughed out loud, but my cock was throbbing in my pants, both at the thought of Addison furiously humping to meet "quota", and the thought of her smart, sassy mouth earning her a bare ass whipping from her pimp. Addison, annoyed with my amusement, returned her attention to her phone, concentrating on erasing the humiliating video of her sucking the other whore's pussy.
Frowning, Addison deleted the video, using a utility to make sure it was fully erased. “All gone.”
“Go ahead and delete it. I already backed it up to the cloud at work. Good luck getting through our firewall.”
“Seriously?” she said, punching my arm.
I smiled. “I need something fun to watch, now that year end is coming. No rest for the wicked, right?”
Addison smiled. “Speaking of which, your dad's coming to visit for his birthday next month. I know he's been lonely since your mom died, and you want him to move closer, so let's give him an incentive. He's always getting together with his VFW buddies, and bragging about all the brothels they visited. Maybe you should take them to one of those hotels by the airport for a little fun."
I looked at her, stunned. My father? Seriously?
"You're kidding, right?"
Addison's eyes sparkled with mischief. "No rest for the wicked" she said, her voice switching to a Southern drawl. The idea was as shocking as it was thrilling, and I felt my pulse quicken at the thought of bringing our role play to such a personal level. Smiling, Addison turned, put her hands in her pockets, and leisurely strolled back to her million-dollar tax practice.
