Ever want to sell your wife's pussy?
I apologize now- but I have mentioned that I'm a frustrated teacher and crappy authoress. I'm writing this in a low point in my life and writing at least takes my mind off the of possible trouble and legal issues. If you read this- thank you. It is fun and exciting remembering the fun things in my life.
Shortly after we were married, Bob and I were at an Atlantic City casino. I recall this very clearly, it's hard to forget. We had been recently married. It was around the same time Bob's father and I had our affair, and we were both enjoying our open marriage.
It was a summer Saturday that I spent all day in the beauty shop getting me to look like a painted slut. Wearing a short dress, braless, with garter and thigh highs, spike heels, all I lacked was a large button pinned to my small tit; "I'M AN EASY FUCK". We had no c***dren, and we were free. I had become a new high school teacher; Bob was doing very well financially- we were set. By 7 that night we were on our way down the Black Horse Pike to Atlantic City.
He valet parked our car and we walked into the hotel casino and Bob pulled me aside and said he wanted to pimp me that night! No freebees! If you have read my background, I had been pimped until I finally escaped it. I spent over a year as a 15 and 16 yr old street whore, then was taken in as a pimp's whore, and worked as an escort while in college. So, this wasn't a big stretch for me. Him suggesting it, even though we had fantasized about it. surprised me but was exciting. I actually enjoyed many things about being a bought piece of ass. No fucking emotional or even being treated less than a dog in heat. Being called a bitch has been a litany in my entire life. It's humiliating- and that gets my cunt flowing. I truly love being treated like I was good for only being used to masturbate rather than using their hand. I'm a warm loud fleshlight! And their hand doesn't scream and beg - and have explosive orgasms.
Bob admitted that he had planned this all out and had the whole thing very choreographed. He really did a good job figuring out how to avoid legal issues. We have used this same model often and it has worked out very well- even in Las Vegas. We have never needed this income, but there was something very naughty, illicit, dangerous, making me a submissive whore (also, not a stretch here, either).
It went like this:
I walked into the casino alone in a wrap-around short dress cinched at the waste. When I sat down, I knew it would slide off of my thigh showing my leg with my garter clasps peeking out. I've worn these dresses to school- I get the boys undivided attention. Bob followed a minute later and checked out which guys were eyeing me. I moved from table to table and game to game until an older gentleman stared a moment too long. Bob checked his ring finger and saw he didn't have one- very important, he likely is alone in his room.
My husband was watching reactions until he stopped me and took me to meet the elderly target (probably near 70- there is a good reasoning behind this. The fellow looked sort of confused and suspicious why we approached him. Our wedding rings were very visible and made sure he could see them. Bob pardoned himself and said that he had noticed the fellow had checked out his wife. Of course, the old guy denied it uncomfortably. Bob told him I would thank him, that it helps my self-image. The fellow's eyes softened and agreed that I was very pretty, and he apologized for looking. I smiled and told him to please do look- thank him very much.
Bob asked him if he was getting wealthy at the tables (it was a 25-dollar minimum craps table- turned out the best for picking up guys). Players at higher betting tables will easily win and lose 100's on a roll of the dice. No matter his response, my husband was prepared to tell him that I was uncannily lucky, likely for my gypsy heritage (his idea of exotic- I'm a fucking polish trailer-trash whore- I guess not exotic enough for Bob). and the said my bets almost always win. He told him that guys give me their bets to make for them- and they usually would win. Bob also noticed the fellow had a nearly empty drink glass. He had likely enjoyed a number of free drinks. Good judgement fades with alcohol consumption. Bob suggested that he give 200 dollars in chips to me and give it a try- he was at a larger bet table and Bob said, "what the hell- I guarantee you'll win, or we'll sell Karen". He thought that was very funny. I took his arm and just smiled at him behind bedroom eyes. I told him my Gypsy Karma was very strong that night. I had no idea how a fucking Gypsy even acts like, for the fucking love of god!
The fellow smiled and said in a heavy New York accent, what the hell he hadn't been winning (that was a gift to Bob) so he said something like "here ya go, pretty lady, make me lucky or we're going to sell you" (that was the second gift). He handed me what I supposed was 200 in chips and Bob told me to wait a moment and not place that bet- which I had no idea how to do. I remember his name distinctly and has always stuck in my head- Sheldon, you can call me Shelly. I was a shill for Shelly!
Bob asked if he could have a private word with him and took him a few feet away- I saw the old guy's suspicion about leaving me with the chips, but I just smiled. Bob introduced us by first names. He giggled and said that Karen didn't sound very Gypsy. I told him that it is the Americanization of my real name- and mumbled one of my grandmother's long Polish names. kinked his head, smile and told me he was sure that was it. I could tell he liked me.
Bob then whispered to him that he could really get lucky by letting me bet those chips on his bed. I saw that Shelly looked startled and Bob asked if he'd rather fuck me than bet that money on a roll of dice and likely get no return- and then having to sell me- when he could win by rolling me on his bed (bob actually had all his bullshit scripted in his head). I heard Bob say, "Karen really loves pleasuring older guys- they remind her of her father or uncle or some other Gypsy King." Shelly grinned and told Bob he was over selling- he would truly enjoy seeing how lucky he could get.
As we were about to leave Shelly stopped and asked us if we were cops! I suppose he had watched too many Lasw and Orders. Bob laughed assured him the proposal was absolutely legitimate and true, and anyway, there is no exchange of money or anything of value- if he didn't want to bet on Karen, he could still take me to his room and "fuck my wife".
The next thing I knew was being escorted from the casino by a short thin 74-year-old widower- found out his age in the room. Bob told him to enjoy the game. We went to his suite, and he got his chips worth. He asked if he could fuck my asshole. Neither of us had a condom or lube so I turned him down. he was very happy with squeezing and pinching my tits and nipples, fingered me for what seemed a long time- I enjoyed it. I sucked his circumcised cock faking it gagged me. He wanted me to go cowgirl so he could finger my clit and play with my tits. While I was bouncing on his fat, 5-inch cock I asked where he wanted to cum- mouth or inside of me. He told me he would like to watch me swallow his "sperm". I swallowed his cum and honestly enjoyed it.
I was back on the casino floor looking for my husband with an extra 100 in chips- Shelly was a tipper, too. Bob hugged me and asked me to breathe so he could smell where Shelly came. I guess that was better than his getting on his knees in the middle of the casino, sticking his head under my dress and sniff and kick my cunt. And then he deep kissed me to share what little cum may have been left in my mouth.
My ingenious husband began what was to become a reoccurring casino night out. Bob quickly incorporated slight changes which then worked on more middle-aged men. I honestly had a sexually wonderful time acting like a paid whore. Some nights if it were not too late, we would find a second victim. Bob was often able to accompany me and my "betting partner" sit, watch and masturbate while his wife was sexually used.
Guys love to fuck other men's wives; many get off by having the husband watch. Depending on the guy, Bob would moan and tell him to do special things to me and not be gentle. "Karen loves it rough. She'll do anything you want. Use my fucking slut wife!" And, usually the guy did as instructed. Bob had the privilege to clean me up.
Older men, and paunchy middle-aged guys with wedding bands betting heavy, generally are not the typical vice cops or hotel security. And the way Bob has it structured, there isn't a verbal contract requiring any kind of payment, and the chips were a payment of a loss or a gift.
I had a fun life- up to now.
Shortly after we were married, Bob and I were at an Atlantic City casino. I recall this very clearly, it's hard to forget. We had been recently married. It was around the same time Bob's father and I had our affair, and we were both enjoying our open marriage.
It was a summer Saturday that I spent all day in the beauty shop getting me to look like a painted slut. Wearing a short dress, braless, with garter and thigh highs, spike heels, all I lacked was a large button pinned to my small tit; "I'M AN EASY FUCK". We had no c***dren, and we were free. I had become a new high school teacher; Bob was doing very well financially- we were set. By 7 that night we were on our way down the Black Horse Pike to Atlantic City.
He valet parked our car and we walked into the hotel casino and Bob pulled me aside and said he wanted to pimp me that night! No freebees! If you have read my background, I had been pimped until I finally escaped it. I spent over a year as a 15 and 16 yr old street whore, then was taken in as a pimp's whore, and worked as an escort while in college. So, this wasn't a big stretch for me. Him suggesting it, even though we had fantasized about it. surprised me but was exciting. I actually enjoyed many things about being a bought piece of ass. No fucking emotional or even being treated less than a dog in heat. Being called a bitch has been a litany in my entire life. It's humiliating- and that gets my cunt flowing. I truly love being treated like I was good for only being used to masturbate rather than using their hand. I'm a warm loud fleshlight! And their hand doesn't scream and beg - and have explosive orgasms.
Bob admitted that he had planned this all out and had the whole thing very choreographed. He really did a good job figuring out how to avoid legal issues. We have used this same model often and it has worked out very well- even in Las Vegas. We have never needed this income, but there was something very naughty, illicit, dangerous, making me a submissive whore (also, not a stretch here, either).
It went like this:
I walked into the casino alone in a wrap-around short dress cinched at the waste. When I sat down, I knew it would slide off of my thigh showing my leg with my garter clasps peeking out. I've worn these dresses to school- I get the boys undivided attention. Bob followed a minute later and checked out which guys were eyeing me. I moved from table to table and game to game until an older gentleman stared a moment too long. Bob checked his ring finger and saw he didn't have one- very important, he likely is alone in his room.
My husband was watching reactions until he stopped me and took me to meet the elderly target (probably near 70- there is a good reasoning behind this. The fellow looked sort of confused and suspicious why we approached him. Our wedding rings were very visible and made sure he could see them. Bob pardoned himself and said that he had noticed the fellow had checked out his wife. Of course, the old guy denied it uncomfortably. Bob told him I would thank him, that it helps my self-image. The fellow's eyes softened and agreed that I was very pretty, and he apologized for looking. I smiled and told him to please do look- thank him very much.
Bob asked him if he was getting wealthy at the tables (it was a 25-dollar minimum craps table- turned out the best for picking up guys). Players at higher betting tables will easily win and lose 100's on a roll of the dice. No matter his response, my husband was prepared to tell him that I was uncannily lucky, likely for my gypsy heritage (his idea of exotic- I'm a fucking polish trailer-trash whore- I guess not exotic enough for Bob). and the said my bets almost always win. He told him that guys give me their bets to make for them- and they usually would win. Bob also noticed the fellow had a nearly empty drink glass. He had likely enjoyed a number of free drinks. Good judgement fades with alcohol consumption. Bob suggested that he give 200 dollars in chips to me and give it a try- he was at a larger bet table and Bob said, "what the hell- I guarantee you'll win, or we'll sell Karen". He thought that was very funny. I took his arm and just smiled at him behind bedroom eyes. I told him my Gypsy Karma was very strong that night. I had no idea how a fucking Gypsy even acts like, for the fucking love of god!
The fellow smiled and said in a heavy New York accent, what the hell he hadn't been winning (that was a gift to Bob) so he said something like "here ya go, pretty lady, make me lucky or we're going to sell you" (that was the second gift). He handed me what I supposed was 200 in chips and Bob told me to wait a moment and not place that bet- which I had no idea how to do. I remember his name distinctly and has always stuck in my head- Sheldon, you can call me Shelly. I was a shill for Shelly!
Bob asked if he could have a private word with him and took him a few feet away- I saw the old guy's suspicion about leaving me with the chips, but I just smiled. Bob introduced us by first names. He giggled and said that Karen didn't sound very Gypsy. I told him that it is the Americanization of my real name- and mumbled one of my grandmother's long Polish names. kinked his head, smile and told me he was sure that was it. I could tell he liked me.
Bob then whispered to him that he could really get lucky by letting me bet those chips on his bed. I saw that Shelly looked startled and Bob asked if he'd rather fuck me than bet that money on a roll of dice and likely get no return- and then having to sell me- when he could win by rolling me on his bed (bob actually had all his bullshit scripted in his head). I heard Bob say, "Karen really loves pleasuring older guys- they remind her of her father or uncle or some other Gypsy King." Shelly grinned and told Bob he was over selling- he would truly enjoy seeing how lucky he could get.
As we were about to leave Shelly stopped and asked us if we were cops! I suppose he had watched too many Lasw and Orders. Bob laughed assured him the proposal was absolutely legitimate and true, and anyway, there is no exchange of money or anything of value- if he didn't want to bet on Karen, he could still take me to his room and "fuck my wife".
The next thing I knew was being escorted from the casino by a short thin 74-year-old widower- found out his age in the room. Bob told him to enjoy the game. We went to his suite, and he got his chips worth. He asked if he could fuck my asshole. Neither of us had a condom or lube so I turned him down. he was very happy with squeezing and pinching my tits and nipples, fingered me for what seemed a long time- I enjoyed it. I sucked his circumcised cock faking it gagged me. He wanted me to go cowgirl so he could finger my clit and play with my tits. While I was bouncing on his fat, 5-inch cock I asked where he wanted to cum- mouth or inside of me. He told me he would like to watch me swallow his "sperm". I swallowed his cum and honestly enjoyed it.
I was back on the casino floor looking for my husband with an extra 100 in chips- Shelly was a tipper, too. Bob hugged me and asked me to breathe so he could smell where Shelly came. I guess that was better than his getting on his knees in the middle of the casino, sticking his head under my dress and sniff and kick my cunt. And then he deep kissed me to share what little cum may have been left in my mouth.
My ingenious husband began what was to become a reoccurring casino night out. Bob quickly incorporated slight changes which then worked on more middle-aged men. I honestly had a sexually wonderful time acting like a paid whore. Some nights if it were not too late, we would find a second victim. Bob was often able to accompany me and my "betting partner" sit, watch and masturbate while his wife was sexually used.
Guys love to fuck other men's wives; many get off by having the husband watch. Depending on the guy, Bob would moan and tell him to do special things to me and not be gentle. "Karen loves it rough. She'll do anything you want. Use my fucking slut wife!" And, usually the guy did as instructed. Bob had the privilege to clean me up.
Older men, and paunchy middle-aged guys with wedding bands betting heavy, generally are not the typical vice cops or hotel security. And the way Bob has it structured, there isn't a verbal contract requiring any kind of payment, and the chips were a payment of a loss or a gift.
I had a fun life- up to now.
1 año atrás
