Robert Mills - Slut wife

"Well, how nice," he stated in a warm voice. "This is a real surprise."

Melissa was confused by the sudden confrontation, the appearance of a familiar face. It hadn't occurred to her that any of the men she had fucked might belong to the club.

She peered into his face, feeling embarrassed. She forced a smile, then accepted his greeting.

"This is a pleasure," she said in a forced casualness. "It is nice to see you again."

Christy appeared relieved. "You two already know each other?"

"I've had the pleasure," Sandino said. "A very nice pleasure."

He pulled up an extra chair, forced it between Melissa and his friends, then ordered drinks. He brushed aside the subject of golf.

"Forget the golf," he told Christy. "Beauty is to be enjoyed, not submerged under shop talk."

Melissa could feel his hand on her leg under the table. He was complimenting her, his voice droning on, staling what a nice model she was, how well she could wear clothing and how much it would be a pleasure to have her serve him again.

"I'd like you to show me something again," he said, turning to her. "Like maybe tonight. Could you make it?"

She wanted to say no, but Martin was so enthusiastic in being included in the circle of friends that he was becoming very benevolent.

"Anytime," he stated happily. "Lissa likes to model. Call her any time."

"I'll do that."

Melissa could feel Sandino's hand on her thigh, moving up, slowly pushing her skirt back. She wanted to say something, but realized she couldn't move. She couldn't let these men know what was happening. She was certain Sandino was taking advantage of the situation to catch a little feel under the table. His fingers were pushing at her panties, working up under the taut elastic at the legs.

Then his finger was pushing into the moist lips of her cunt and she wanted to blurt out how wonderful it felt, how nice it would be to have his cock thrust into her hot cunt again. She squirmed and his whisper, in her ear, only added fuel to the fire.

"Say the word, baby, and we can have another fuck all our own."

She slouched down, pushing against his finger. It felt so good, just like being fucked. She hated for him to stop, but Christy was becoming suspicious. He was eyeing her very strangely.

"Stanton is becoming quite a gambler," he told Sandino. "The next game, perhaps v e should raise the limits."

Sandino removed his finger from Melissa's pussy, wiped his hand on her skirt.

"I'll agree to that," he said approvingly. "His credit is number one with me."

He pinched Melissa on the thigh and she knew he would be calling for another session real soon.

Wednesday afternoon she picked up her five hundred dollars from Mr. Anderson and put it in a savings account.

Because it was still early, she called Martin to ask what he would like for dinner.

The girl on the switchboard informed her that Martin wasn't in and expected to be late in returning to the office.

Melissa was placing her bag of groceries on the kitchen cabinet when a woman appeared at the kitchen door.

A thin-faced blonde peered at her when she opened it.

Melissa said, "Hello, Lois. What's keeping you happy these days?"

The blonde settled down on a stool.

"Happy," she muttered in irritation. "Who's happy? J. D. didn't get home until after eleven o'clock last night and I was fit to be tied."

"Did he have to work late, honey?"

The blonde grunted in disgust. "Work! The only work J. D. does is trying to coax some woman to lay down." She gave Melissa a pitiful smile.

"He thinks I don't know it but he goes to those massage places all the time. He likes fucking those kids they have working there, then when he comes home, his prick shrivels up to the size of a dried-up pork sausage and I have to go without cock again. I'm climbing the wall, kid, I really am. What do you do when Martin doesn't want sex?"

Melissa plugged in the coffee pot.

"I've never seen a time when Martin didn't want sex.

"You should be so lucky," Lois said.

"You say J. D. likes massages?"

Lois got up from the stool to peer into the top of the coffee maker. "To fuck, honey, not massage. J. D. gives the girls money to fuck him. Ain't that a case? Especially when he can fuck his own wife for nothin'."

Melissa had never heard Lois talk that way before. It puzzled her. "You may be accusing him unjustly."

Lois sank back on the stool. "Not on your life, honey. J. D. goes to the parlors and it isn't for massages. If it was, he wouldn't be so tired and I could get a little cock now and then. The other night I wanted to suck him, I wanted it so bad."

Melissa shook her head in pity. "That's too bad," she said.

"In fact, he won't look at my cunt any more. What should I do, Melissa?"

Melissa grinned slyly.

"Do the same thing those girls did. Get a job in a massage parlor.

Lois was pleased by the suggestion. She hugged Melissa, telling her how wonderful she was. "You're a doll, honey," she sputtered. "That's exactly what I'll do."

After she had left, Melissa smiled grimly. She had made the suggestion in fun but it could be the very best advice for Lois.

At five-twenty, the phone rang.

"We had a meeting," Martin informed her in a apologetic voice. "I could eat out if it's too much bother but I'd like to bring Mr. Nagel out tonight. Mrs. Nagel is at some reunion somewhere and I know he hates to eat alone."

Melissa listened with a sinking heart. She knew the reason why Martin was bringing Nagel home-it was time for Melissa to put out for his boss.

It had to be Martin's idea. He wanted her to be nice to him. Possibly even permit him to fingerfuck her.

How far would Martin want her to go? How far should she go? Leading a man on could have very disastrous results. By teasing him, making him assume his desires would be fulfilled, then turn him down, could be dangerous. It could cause Martin to lose his job instead of giving him the promotion he wanted so desperately.

There could be only one answer. She would have to give in, to let Mr. Nagel go all the way. She would have to be nice to him, let him finger her pussy than fuck him even if she had to do it without Martin knowing.

With the decision made, she felt better. She could go about planning how she would do it, what she would say to him, how she would dress for the occasion. She would certainly have to wear something that was easy to take off and would show a lot of skin. It would have to be sexy and skimpy so he could catch a view of her cunt when she crossed her legs. Once his animal instincts were aroused, fucking could be the only ultimate result. Yes, she could tease Mr. Nagel into fucking her; finding a means of getting rid of Martin long enough for them to do it was the problem.

They arrived at six-twenty and she could see by Martin's attitude that he had insisted on Nagel coming. He was very apologetic and he was a little too catering.

"Sorry to put this on you, hon," he told her. "I was certain you wouldn't mind. Lance, here, didn't want to come. I told him you would be insulted if he didn't."

"It was sweet of you to bring him," she declared. "It is such a pleasure to have another man around."

After dinner Melissa gathered the dishes from the table. Martin was casting glances in her direction as if expecting her to say something and his boss appeared very ill at ease.

"Will you mix the drinks, dear?" she inquired of Martin. "What will Mr. Nagel have?"

She listened for comment from the living room.

"Lance likes vodka," Martin said.

Melissa reached for the new bottle. "We're almost out," she said. "There's only enough for one drink. Will you go get some?"

Martin was apologizing. "I'll get some," he promised. "It'll only take a few minutes."