Call Girl Wife

One time when Clarisse and I were still married, I changed my normal pattern. Instead of going into my office, as I usually did, I decided to stay home and work in my home office on my computer. There's no problem with that where I work, as long as you get your work done. My wife was dancing and working late hours, so I usually let her just sleep in. On this particular day, Clarisse had not come home yet. I was working in my office at about 10 am when I heard her come in. She obviously didn't know I was home, or she would have said something to me. I was putting the finishing touches on a report, so I didn't say anything. I heard her go to the bedroom and started rummaging around her closet. I was about to say something to her to let her know i was home--but I heard the phone ring.

"Yeah Dan!" she said, picking it up on the first ring. "Ten minutes!...OK, how much did he say??... All right, I'm putting on my work clothes right now. I'll be ready!"

I was more than a bit confused. I figured that Dan was her boss, who had taught her the business. I had met him before-- an early thirtyish good looking guy who drove a very customized Porsche. What got me confused was her reference to work clothes. I couldn't figure out what this meant. What I should of done is called out and asked her what was up. What I did do is to creep outside the bedroom door and peek inside. There was Clarisse, standing in front of our full-length mirror, brushing her hair. She was wearing a light purple negligee that showed off her nicely-rounded breasts. I had not seen her in a negligee before. Normally she didn't seem to get off on anything that kinky. Or so I thought. I could barely see her nipples in the mirror, even though the room was quite well-lit as the sun shined through the window. She put down her brush and began to apply a very dark lip gloss, which made her look rather mysterious. I just stared at her. I noticed that my cock was swelling up very rapidly, and decided that I would see what would happen.

I heard our doorbell ring. I quickly moved into the kitchen, which is situated so that I could see into the living room, and if the door was left open, into the bedroom. Clarisse trotted over to answer it. I saw Clarisse and a middle-aged man, about in his late forties standing by the door. He seemed to be about 5'10'' with a noticeable bald spot. He looked nervously around as he handed Clarisse an envelope. "There's six hundred there," he said, as he took off his coat. He may have been nervous, but I could see from the way he was staring at Clarisse he was not displeased. "Steve said that it was five hundred, but I figured that if I added a little extra, you'd add a little extra, too."

"That's sweet!" Clarisse said, and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm sure we can work something out."

She took his coat, folded it, and laid it on the chair. Then she put the envelope on the table, without checking its contents. Clarisse always has had the ability to make people feel at ease. She has a sweet, almost girlish smile and a soft laugh. She has always been able to get people to do what she wants without seeming to put pressure on them. They ask her if they can do whatever she has been wanting them to do. It always worked with me--but I never minded. She's not an overtly controlling person--but I know she likes to be in control of most situations. The two of them sat down on the sofa in the living room. I learned that "Steve" was from Columbus, Ohio. His wife was at their motel, and he "really appreciated" it that he could see Clarisse here. Clarisse (whom he called "Reese") offered him a glass of water, which he took and seemed to drink it rapidly. I heard him say how he had never done this before, and Clarisse told him not to worry, everything was going to be fine.

She asked him to tell her something about himself, and while he was talking about his retail business, she began running her foot on his lap. I could see that she was also wearing dark purple polish on her toes. "Am I distracting you?" she smiled sweetly. The crotch on his pants started to bulge up, and he was shifting around. "You're sweating--let me make you a little more comfortable", she said, as she started unbuttoning his shirt. He was obviously pretty excited, because he took her arm and pulled it close to himself. They started kissing passionately as they sat on the couch. I stared at the two of them going at it, and as quietly as possible, dropped my pants to the floor. Clarisse had always been a responsive lover, but I never seen her so aggressive. I started stroking myself, and could tell that I was getting harder and harder more rapidly than ever. After a few minutes, she broke away from him and whispered something in his ear. I couldn't hear what it was, but Steve signed and laid back.

Her small hand made a quick bee-line for his zipper and began to pull it down. I noticed that her finger nails were also coated with purple polish as they struggled to pull down his fly. "Just help me a bit with this, please," she told him. He raised himself up and she started pulling off his pants. She moved in front of him for a moment, so I couldn't see what was going on. But she pulled off his pants and boxers and folded them neatly and put them on the chair. I could see his cock bob in the air for a moment, before Clarisse turned back to him with a wide smile. But her darkly tipped hands encircled his swollen member, and her purple lips sank to encase the reddish head. Steve moaned and thrust deeper into her oral cavity. I heard my wife moan and watched her twist her head, bobbing her slick lips up and down his staff. I knew firsthand what that felt like. My cock leapt at the memory of her skill! Now I was beginning to see how she got so damned good. Her customer's hand was under her lavender lingerie, obvious exploring her wet pussy. Clarisse's hips were rising and falling, the cock still being slurped noisily by her eager tongue and lips. He didn't last long under her voracious attack. She accelerated her pace, squealing around his shaft, as her cheeks puffed, filled with cum. Swallowing his load, she dove back down and captured the rest between her loving lips. Steve was making strangling noises which softened in tone and harshness as he finished. My wife kissed his cock farewell and sighed, relaxing beside him.

"That was... Amazing," he choked out.

"Um, you were fantastic, too, Steve. Would you care for something while I freshen up?"

Instantly the gracious hostess, Clarisse served him then coyly took her leave. It wasn't until then that I realized I was leaning weakly against the wall. I'd cum all over myself and the carpet. As if my brain had been temporarily shut down, a backlog of thoughts washed through me. My stripper wife a high class call girl? I'd just witnessed the proof. Her "boss", Dan, her pimp? Obviously! How long had she been fucking men for money in our home? A year and a half? How many had there been? Hundreds! She returned a few minutes later, her lips freshly purple and her lovely hair brushed. She sat beside him, chatted easily with him, causing me to marvel at her relaxation and the way he responded. Her nails tickled his scalp, and her breast brushed lightly on his arm from time to time, It dawned on me that she was actively seducing her trick, reawakening his middle-aged libido. He lit a cigarette, offered her one. Another stunner- she accepted, smoking it like a seasoned pro, teasing Steve, using it as another tool of the trade. That, more than anything else, made me realize just how little I knew about my wife.

It took her another fifteen minutes to get him hard. She delicately grabbed his cock, sat astride him, and took him into her visibly lubricated pussy. She wiggled, rose and fell for nearly ten minutes more before Steve filled her pussy. Five more minutes, and she escorted him to the door, amidst promises to get together the next time he was in town. My wife flopped into a chair with a loud sigh and drew deeply on the second cigarette he'd given her.

"Well!" She said, apparently to the air, "I'm glad you finally know, Brian! So did you have a good time?"

I stumbled out, feeling more embarrassed than anything else, my dripping cock flopping around. "Clarisse? How could you?"

She tapped the unopened envelope with a purple nail and blew smoke at the ceiling. "Besides, I like it. I'm good at it".

"So I see!" I said, trying to find my anger. All I found was another hard-on.

"I saw you jacking off!" she said nonchalantly, spreading her legs. "Why don't you fuck me this time?"