Trisha

I think the technical term for my little perversion is "Hotwife." I'm not sure if you can call it technical though. I don't like it. It is too vague. The little twenty-somethings walking their kindergarteners to school in their yoga pants and sports bras are hot wives. It doesn't do anything for me. I guess I am just old-school. I like the term slut.

We never would have thought to do anything like this. Tom and I are just too boring. I only got the idea because one night we were skipping through the channels in bed and he stopped when he saw a pair of tits. I closed my eyes. I don't mind porn but I hate those badly acted, silicone filled light porn shows they put on cable late at night. I was listening.

The woman's husband was out of town and she was turning tricks to keep the family afloat. The idea that she would do that didn't appall me, I found it empowering and I started watching. Each guy she would be with she would call and tell him. he wasn't pissed at her, he found it exciting. Tom turned to me and teasingly asked if I would get off calling him while he was out of town to tell him I just made a thousand bucks getting fucked.

"Do you think I could get a thousand dollars? I'm kind of old?"

"I'll pay a grand for that ass, he joked back."

"Lets see the cash." We were just joking until he got out of bed and went to his den. He came back with ten $100 bills.

"Make it worth my money?"

"What do you want?"

Mostly he wanted head. I try to give him head. It's not really my thing. My jaw always hurts before he gets there. I don't mind the cum but like I said, it doesn't usually get to that. I also usually stop because since we both passed forty, if I want to get laid I can't let him come. When I tried to stop he said no. It was his money. Being told no was something new. I don't think he had ever told me what to do, or what not to do. He played with my tits the whole time. Normally I stop him, I didn't. It was his dollar. He came like a fire hose. I spit it out on his belly and got a towel to wipe it up. I figured that's what a real whore would do.

He wanted to suck on my tits. I let him. I let him do it as long as he wanted. I was a wet mess down there. I wanted to get off so bad. He wasn't hard yet. I asked him what would make him hard again. He had me stroke it. He actually told me to play with his balls. I had never played with his balls like that. It was kind of strange. I don't think I knew they moved like that. It was taking a while and he told me I could play with myself.

I sucked his half hard cock while he let me finger myself. I came in a second but didn't want to stop. My moaning did it for him. he was hard again.

"Will you do me now?"

He made me be on top. He had me do all the work. He coached me. He actually told me what he liked and what he wanted. We actually really needed this. I arched my back and put on a show. I don't think I ever realized how much he wanted to play with my tits. I don't think a whore is supposed to come like that. I don't know, maybe they do. I came twice riding his cock and then focused purely on getting him off. Fuck spinning; spend twenty minutes on your knees working your ass up and down. He did come, finally.

He tried to kiss me and I didn't let him. I just remember that from the movie. I actually had no idea how long it had been but I told him it was an hour. I asked him if he was good or if he wanted to buy another hour. He said he was good. I got up and made a show of getting dressed and leaving the bedroom. I waited for him in the living room. It took forever to figure it out but he did eventually come out.

"I want a cigarette. It seems like I'm supposed to smoke." I had never really smoked regularly but yeah, back in the day I did when all my friends did. He disappeared and I really hoped he wasn't going to the store. He was back in a minute with about half a pack of cigarettes. We sat on the patio smoking. We both agreed. That was the hottest sex since our second son was born.

"Now you would call me and tell me what you did. Was he a good trick? Did you get off? That kind of stuff."

I giggled. "I could never take money for it."

"What if you didn't take any money?" He was serious. It scared me a little.

He went to Houston two weeks later. Everything was normal. I didn't have a date that trip. On his second night gone he called before bedtime and said goodnight to the kids. I waited. I read a dirty book I had picked up. It was awful but there was one scene I pretended to happen. It was after two in Houston when I called him. He answered groggily.

"He just left. Do you want to know what he liked?"

"Really? Shit?!" his voice went from groggy to alert in two words.

"No, dummy. Not really."

He relaxed. "Yes. Tell me."

I told him about the guy. I told him it was a dad from the school. I described him as chubby and hairy. Tom was chubby and hairy but I said this guy was worse. I told him it started normal. He wanted a blow job."

He asked for details and I made them up. He liked having a finger up his ass. He liked it really hard. I told him my neck was sore after blowing him.

"Tom? Are you jacking off?"

"Um, no."

"I think you are lying. It's okay. If you aren't, I want you to."

He told me to hold on and came back in a few seconds. I imagined he got a towel or something.

"It took forever to get him off and my neck was tired but then he wanted me from behind."

"I love imagining you with your ass in the air getting fucked."

I told him how long it took me to come; his cock was so small, but that he tried really hard. I made up a think about his cock being bent. He growled a little and I figured I made him come. We talked a little longer and then I told him I should let him sleep. I don't think he wanted to hang up. I made him and went to bed. It was maybe twenty minutes later I heard my phone ding. I read the text message.

"what if you really did it?" I didn't respond. I figured he would think I was asleep.

The next two weeks were normal or the most part. We did all of our daily routines, at least until the kids were in bed. Once we were tucked it, rather than watch some bad television we would make up stories. He would make up dates for me and then I would fantasize about how they went telling him in graphic detail what I did. We were fucking like rabbits. When his next trip came up and I dropped him at the airport I hated to see him go. I pretended everything was normal and waited to call him that night and pretend I'd had a date. It was midnight and I was getting ready to call him when his text came in. he was still out, the customer was a lush apparently and was making the most of Tom's expense account. I went to bed kind of sad. I was asleep when the text message came in. I had my phone set loud, I always did when he was out of town, and I woke up and read it.

"You need to be at the Sheraton at 7:00. Wear the little black dress without the back."

"WHAT?!?!?" I texted back.

"Keith. You met him a couple of times."

"Call me the minute you leave."

"NO. OMG?!?!" It was automatic.

"Call me in the morning. I'm beat. Love you!"

"Love you, too." I answered. I didn't sleep. I couldn't believe it. I knew there was no way I could go through with it but I also didn't want to say no.

By the time the morning came, I had decided he was just fucking with me. I decided to fuck with him back. One, it would be fun. Two, maybe he wasn't fucking with me. I texted him instead saying I couldn't wear the dress he wanted. I'm 44 okay. I think I am a pretty hot 44 but still, I need some support to wear a dress and the one he wanted had no back. There was nothing all the way to my ass.

"Love, you don't need the Spanks and crap. Trust me. You aren't out to impress women. It is one guy. He will like it." It took another 200 messages for him to wear me down but I relented. I canceled everything else I had going that day. I took an hour-long bath. I expected to spend the day nervous or grossed out or some combination of the two. I had told our teenager she was in charge and to feed her younger brothers. She protested but would do it. I left the house at four and met a girlfriend for happy hour, just for the liquid courage. We talked about sex. She and her Husband were into bondage. I lied and said Tom and I didn't have a thing yet. A

At six we left the bar. I was feeling a little buzzed but not drunk. I went to the health club to use the locker room. Out of my gym bag I put on the little black dress, heels and nothing else. I was smiled at by every guy I passed leaving. I drove to the Sheraton nervous I was at the right one.

I was sitting in line to valet park and texted him. "Are you sure?"

I knew my Tom. I expected him to tell me it was up to me and whatever I wanted was okay. He was soft like that. It was my out. If he said that, I couldn't be the one to say I wanted to fuck another man.

"It's too late now. Go get em! Tell me everything. I'm eating in the hotel room so you can call me as soon as you are done." A young Latino boy wanted my car keys. I gave them and went inside.

I had a vague idea of what Keith looked like but once inside I couldn't find him. I sat at the bar alone. It wasn't quite seven. I ordered another margarita. The businessman beside me paid for it. I never would have let that happen but I figured a whore would. I told him I was meeting someone and he was nice enough about it. He was a pretty good-looking guy. He was maybe my age. He was quiet for another minute or two and then he said it. "I'll be here till Friday. If you want someone to meet tomorrow, call me." He handed me a business card. His name was Randall. It was that easy. Fuck me" I thought, then giggled to myself. Literally, fuck me!

"Hi." I heard from behind me. I turned to see Keith. He looked younger than I remembered but seemed tired, or shy or something. I asked him to sit down. He ordered a beer.

You always hear in the movies or in books, most guys just want a woman to talk to. That was all Keith wanted. Since his divorce he had not been on a date in two years. He was struggling with kids that misbehaved and women he couldn't get to go out a second time. I told him, he needed to not play the hurt puppy. Women didn't want the hurt puppy. He apologized. I told him that was exactly what he didn't want to do.

He asked if I wanted to get dinner and I realized it was time. I didn't have to do anything after all. I wasn't really a whore. I also realized I was going to do it. I could eat and let him babble on more but I wasn't hungry and he wasn't really that interesting. "Do you have a room."

"Yes." He muttered embarrassingly.

"Why don't we just go to your room?" I suggested. He paid and I stood up. Randal Businessmen smiled at me and made a little phone gesture holding his hand up to his ear. Wholly fuck, I thought.

"I wasn't expecting to hear from you till later?" I could tell Tom had been drinking. I guess it made sense. I had been drinking it was a good night for it. I was still shaking. It was only 9:15. We had gotten to the room a little before eight and I had rounded his hour up. At nine I got out of bed and got dressed leaving Keith sweaty and panting. I think he might have been crying. I had slipped back into the bar. I ordered a wine. I wished it was stronger.

"So?"

"So? What?" I felt like I was being stupid. I sounded mad I think because Tom was quiet. "Sorry. I'm just."

"I'm sorry, Trisha. I didn't mean to make you..."

"Oh my god, stop." I told him. I didn't want to be too loud.

"You sound upset."

I took a deep breath. I wasn't sure how to tell him, what to tell him. "No. Oh my god. Kind of the opposite."

"It was good?" he asked. "Tell me. I wish I was there." That was it. I had him. Fuck, I am just a dirty fucking slut. That was the point though. "You aren't though. You are there, all alone in your little hotel room, half drunk while your slut wife turns tricks at home. " I hated to do it to him but the whole time I was doing it, I just got more excited. "Do you like that?"

"Yes."

"You like being married to a dirty little slut?"

"Yes. Tell me."

"I can't. There is a guy here in the bar that wants some attention."

"Fuck, Trish. Are you serious?"

I was drunk with power. I have no other way to explain it. "Can I fuck him Tommy?" I wanted to be dirtier. I wanted to be filthy. "That first guy, he didn't get me off. Can I fuck another one Tommy? Please?" I had nearly talked myself into an orgasm.

"Yes. Fuck him hard. Call me. Tell me how he fucks you."

"Are you jacking off, thinking about me getting fucked?"

"Twice already and I think I will again."

"You better." I looked over at Randall. He was just looking at me.

"I love you, Tom."

"I love you, too. Call me." The technical term for Tom is Cuckold and it is accurate.

I dialed the business man's number and I watched him as he answered it.

"Hi." He said.

"My date didn't go like I hoped."

"Do you want to get a bite to eat?" I don't know what it is with guys and dinner but even now, everyone wants to eat.

"Do you have a room?" I asked.

I was home by eleven. I gave my daughter a movie review I was repeating from the paper. She commented on my dress suspiciously.

In bed, in a pair of sweats and a T-shirt I called Tommy. We talked for two hours. I told him everything. I basically sucked cock for almost two hours. I didn't swallow I told him. That was for him only. I could hear his hand slapping up and down on his cock. We hung up and I passed out.

The next day my thighs ached. Being on top was getting me in shape. Tommy called me four times a day the next two days. Some calls were sweet, sometimes they were all about the kids. The ones late at night were filthy and we both jacked off until we couldn't come anymore.

Tommy liked to watch me get picked up. I have three slutty dresses now. I can't go back to the Sheraton. They said they didn't allow that kind of thing in their hotel.

Tommy is allowed to set me up. He uses an adult website. The guys he finds are always hotter and they let him watch. Sometimes he joins in but that is just when I make him. He really liked to just watch and jack off and then fuck me after.

I am a total slut. I love it. I go to the normal housewife functions and listen to women bitch about their husbands and kids and smile to myself. I know I've banged married guys. At first it pissed me off but not enough not to do it. Now I just think about their lazy wife at home. If she would just listen to him when he wants to complain about life and suck his dick every now and then he wouldn't be fucking me.

I'm not a hooker. I don't charge. I bet that pisses the real hookers off. I've gotten some nice shit out of it. Randall Businessman comes to town every couple of months. He gave me a tennis bracelet, its real. The manager of the Tire place is an asshole. He is one of those bald guys with tattoos that thinks he's a hells angel. Tommy had dropped off my car to get tires and went I went to pick it up he said he would just tear up the invoice if I sucked his dick. I sucked the shit out of him in the back of the garage. I can still remember the stink of all the tires around us. I went straight to Tommy's office after and told him. He fucked me in the back seat of my car. It was one of the best orgasms I've ever had.

I try sometimes to hate myself but it doesn't take. I'm a slut and my Tommy loves me for it.