Robert Mills - Slut wife

"Some corn chips too. I can't drink without corn chips."

Martin grunted his assent and turned to leave. "Also some cigarettes," Melissa added. "The carton is about gone.

Martin grunted again and left. Nagel cleared his throat.

"Anything I can do?" he inquired from the living room. "I feel a little useless just sitting here."

"Not really," Melissa said, with a wan smile. "I wanted to get rid of him so we could talk. He's been rather upset lately."

Nagel attempted to show sympathy but it came out mostly as boredom. "That's too bad," he said. "Doesn't he like his job?"

"It's my modeling," Melissa said. She laughed and that put him at ease. "I've been doing it for a few weeks for extra money."

"And you come in contact with men?"

He was looking at her, noting the shortness of her skirt, how well she filled out the dress she had chosen.

"Lots," she stated, with emphasis.

"They like to see you wearing clothes?"

"They would prefer to see me taking them off."

She paused, watching his face. He appeared to be dwelling on every word. She could tell he was interested.

He hesitated for a moment, still looking at her, then asked: "Do you ever take them off?"

"If they insist."

He was looking at her legs, as if determining what shape they were above the hem line. His gaze shifted boldly to the area of fabric that covered her pussy.

"You're a very attractive woman," he said.

She thought his voice sounded a little more husky.

"Would you like to see more of me?"

She asked the question because she had to know what he expected of her. Should she just sit on his lap so he could finger her cunt or did he want to get right down to fucking?

His eyes brightened and he nodded. "Yes," he said. "I would."

He had made the commitment. He wanted her to undress so he could look at her, then he would want to fuck her.

"We can do that better in the bedroom.

She motioned that he should follow, led the way. He followed her into the bedroom, then stood silently in the center of the floor as if undecided what to do. Melissa waited, wondering whether she should get undressed or permit him to do it. He appeared a little confused.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled her skirt up so he could see her skimpy panties. "Do you want to fuck or suck?"

He was watching her, almost timidly. "I-I don't understand," he said.

"I'm trying to make it easy for you. I can undress or you can do it for me."

He seemed a little dazed but his gaze clung to the point where the narrow width of fabric covered the lips of her cunt.

Then he moved toward her.

She moved back on the bed, pulled her skirt higher, grasped the waist of her panties and pushed them down. Her cunt came into new.

Nagel was in a stupor. After a few seconds, he found his voice.

"What are you doing?" he mumbled.

"Showing you my pussy," Melissa said. "Isn't this what you want? Didn't Martin tell you what to do?"

"Martin?" Nagel repeated the name. His eyes clung to the wisp of pubic hair. "Martin didn't tell me anything."

He was confused. That was it, she told herself He was delighted to be with her and have the opportunity to fuck her, but confused as to how to go about it. She would have to let him know that she understood.

"It's all right, Mr. Nagel. I know all about it. You arranged with Martin to fuck me. Didn't you, Mr. Nagel?"

He mumbled and stuttered, then frowned.

Her smile became a little smug. She was certain she was right. He was gazing at her cunt like he had never seen a cunt before and the way he was licking his lips, he must be getting hot.

"You win, Mr. Nagel. You can fuck me, but I want to know that Martin will get the promotion first."

He shook his head as if in disbelief of what he was hearing.

"Martin already has the promotion," she heard him say. "I was going to tell him tonight. Now, I'm not so sure."

It was Melissa's turn to be stunned. She tried to speak but couldn't. He turned away and she knew she had offended him.

"You better pull your dress down, Mrs. Stanton," he told her in a calm voice. "Your husband might be coming back any time."

She knew now that Marlin had been wrong. Mr. Nagel wasn't giving the promotion on the factor of sex with an employee's wife. He had already selected Martin for the job, but she had gone too far. She had goaded him into changing his mind on the promotion.

And of course, Martin would be very angry.

All the next day, Melissa recounted what Mr. Nagel had said. Her actions had cost Martin his promotion, he would never forgive her, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it.

When she went to work that afternoon, Anderson explained that modeling assignments were becoming sparse. He was getting somerequests for girls who would pose nude at bachelor parties and could be interested in making a few bucks on the side.

"Not many afternoon dates," he told Melissa. "If you could take an evening call, I could fix you up seven nights a week. Can you do it?"

She had to decline. Martin would never permit her to be gone during an evening. Not without an explanation and she couldn't tell him what she had been doing.

Anderson shuffled his cards.

"There's this thing at the Blue Moon Motel. The guy says he's a freelance photographer, needs a girl to do special modeling for him. Probably skimpy costumes and bikinis and things like that."

She would give it a try. A couple hours posing in bikinis and negligees could earn her thirty dollars. She smoked a cigarette to cover her nervousness while Anderson called the client.

"She's a real nice girl," she heard him say into the phone. "She knows how to handle any situation." He placed the receiver back on the cradle and turned back to her.

"Williams will pay what you ask. Just do whatever it is he wants done."

Williams was younger than she had expected. Thirty-eight, Melissa guessed. He had a camera set up in the motel room.

She didn't like his looks and experienced instant revulsion on viewing his long bushy hair and the mottled beard.

"Nice to have you, baby," he greeted her. "You just follow directions and we'll get along fine."

She eyed the room arrangement, certain that she didn't like that either.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Model, baby. Just take off your clothes and model."

"You mean you want me to model nude?"

"Of course. That's what the magazines are buying now days."

"I don't model nude, especially for pictures."

He feigned surprise. "You must be kidding. A chick with looks like yours is a natural for fuck pictures."

"I don't work for people who use language like that either."

"That's weird!" he blurted. "You got to be kidding! Chicks love to have a man take pictures of their cunt. Especially when some stud is giving her the meat!"

Melissa backed away, turned toward the door.

"You've got the wrong girl!" she snapped back at him. "Me you from Anderson's?" he demanded. Melissa said she was.

"Then clue me in, baby. Why this uptight routine. Mark said you would fuck and that's the reason he sent you. I want a girl who will fuck."

There had been no mention of fucking in the conversation, Melissa was certain. Williams was still pressing her for action.

"I'll give you fifty bucks to fuck you in the ass while I take a picture. What do you say?" "Are you trying to be funny?" "That's the going rate." "No."

"Thirty bucks to suck your cunt. Forty to do it on camera."

"No!"

"All right, fifty bucks to lick your cunt and take a picture. I'll set the time lever and when I get to licking real good, it'll go off."

"Your crazy!"

"Twenty dollars if you suck my cock."

She wasn't getting through to the creep. Melissa said no again, only louder. "No!"