Cheated Wives' Club

Prologue

How many of you guys ever think about the loose girls from your younger days? You know the type I mean, the 'fun girls.' The ones you got drunk and fucked. Maybe you even gang-banged one with your friends. Did you ever wonder what happened to them after you used them and tossed them aside? Or did you knock one up and have to marry her?

I sometimes wonder how many of those girls needed therapy after being used and dumped. Or maybe she had a kid out of wedlock and ended up raising a child alone and living in poverty.

I didn't start out as a fun girl. But when I was in college, my best girlfriend and I met two guys who were close friends, and I thought my guy was Mister Right. He and I seemed to hit it off, dating exclusively with each other for about a month or two. Then things between us slowly changed. Around that same time, my girlfriend ditched her guy, saying he was a pervert. Maybe I was just a little more adventurous.

I certainly wasn't raised to be a prude. Growing up poor, I grew to be a tall, well-built, busty girl with long, black hair and a nice smile. My unwed mother (go ahead, called me a "bastard," I've heard it before) taught me that I should learn to use my assets to get what I wanted!

"Just be careful and use protection!" mama advised.

Unfortunately, the timing of watching my periods and precautions with condoms didn't always work out as planned. Accidents happen! Then getting married due to an unplanned pregnancy is not a good start to the long-term relationship.

When the marriage finally cracks under stress and you're both ready to quit, there's the kid to think about. Divorce isn't easy or painless, and disruptions to a kid's already stressful teenage years is often a recipe for disaster. So, some wives endure to just "suck it up" until the time is right, while some clueless husbands think THEY hold all of the cards!

Book Club

This month, the book the club selected for us to read was about a hooker, and Cindy hosted this Saturday morning's meeting.

Sandra (the neighborhood Queen of the gossiping bitches) mentioned that her husband, Jack is now a member of "The Club" at the Marquis Hotel. And with the way she proudly said that, the rest of us subtly glanced at each other, our eyes darting around to see if anyone was going to explain it to her.

"His siblings gave him that membership for his fifty-fifth birthday last month," Sandra explained. "They're paying for it from his Family Trust Fund or from their charity Foundation."

"I've heard of The Club," Cindy admitted, but not revealing the rumors everyone else heard about it. "My husband and I went to that bar in the hotel's penthouse restaurant one evening. But I didn't see any signs for any special 'Club' there, just the hotel restaurant and public nightclub."

"Jack said it's an exclusive club by invitation only," Sandra explained, as if she were enlightening the rest of us. "Apparently, only the members know where and when they meet. The membership buy-in and monthly fees are too high for most people," Sandra explained, still bragging. "His family's paying for his membership, so he can make contacts among the rich club members for donations."

"I thought you always hosted the donor dinners for his charity," Allison said.

"I do," Sandra explained. "But he said he's reaching out for contacts in The Club to find others. I was just wondering if anyone else is a member there, because it's rather expensive and exclusive," and she said that in a smug way, obviously trying to flaunt her husband's importance.

Some of us try to ignore Sandra, not letting her gossip and judgmental attitudes get to us. But I think everyone sees her as a bitch, with her 'holier than thou' attitude. She seems to take joy in anyone's discomfort when she publicly airs any dirty secrets she can find.

Sandra spent several months last year spreading a rumor behind Lori's back and being careful to keep Lori in the dark. It was just a few months ago, when she seemed pleased with herself at the shocked expression on Lori's face as she finally told Lori her husband had a mistress! Sandra had let the rumors simmer for months, so there'd be no denying it when she finally told Lori.

I glanced at Stacy to see her reaction to Sandra's bragging about her husband and The Club. While almost everyone in town heard about it, Stacy, I, and a few of the other wives here have a little more information about it. But we didn't bother to enlighten Sandra as to what that really meant.

###

Outside the house when everyone was leaving, we waved goodbye to Sandra, Allison, Lori, and two others as they went to their cars. Six of us walked a little slower, pretending to be talking about the book until they were all out of ear shot. With Sandra's mentioning The Club, Stacy now asked if any of us had plans to go there.

Carla was the only one in our group standing here who planned ahead for a reservation. "I called Carl yesterday, so a limo is picking me up at six o'clock this evening."

Some of us see that place as our social club for those who are in our same situation. But nobody's ever forced to go to the Club, we just go there when we feel like it.

"How about the rest of you?" Stacy asked.

"Not this week," the others replied, with Margie adding that her husband has been a good boy since her last visit.

"Dan said he doesn't want me going there anymore," Margie said. "He's spending more time with me every evening and watching me like a hawk! I told him if I ever catch him cheating on me again, I'll fuck some guy bareback and bring it home for Dan to lick it out of me. Otherwise, I'll see him in divorce court!

Lindsey giggled, saying "Wow, there's a harsh bitch."

"I'm being nice and giving him a choice," Carla said with a smile.

"O-kay!" Stacy said drawing the word out, then grinning at Margie's sense of power over her husband.

"Sandra acted like she's never heard of 'The Club,' Lindsey added. "Do you really think she's that naïve? I thought everyone knew about it."

"Sandra might be the only one in town by now who doesn't know," Stacy said. "You heard her a few months ago, when she said she only had one boyfriend before she married her husband, Jack. And I doubt she spreads her legs anymore for him. So, theirs is a weird marriage. I think she has blinders on when it comes to sex. She's probably content in her role with their charity Foundation, as long as Jack's around to pay the bills."

"We all know he had a 'sugar baby,' paying her way through college," I said, reminding them of that piece of gossip. "But I heard the girl graduated college and moved away two months ago."

"That's probably why Jack joined The Club," Stacy observed just before opening her car door and getting in to leave.

###

It was noon this Saturday after the book club meeting. When I came home, my husband, Matt was standing in the kitchen fixing a sandwich for lunch.

I decided it was time I confronted him with some recent bank transactions I found when I checked our accounts that morning. Things between us were getting increasingly more distant over the past year or more. Since our son went off to college, things between us were getting even worse. But before I could say anything, Matt blurted out; "I'll be away next weekend finalizing the latest contract proposal."

"Yeah, right," I said in resignation, knowing the truth. "Is it all work during those weekends? Your old high school girlfriend will probably be there. Right?"

"Glenda's the Proposal Manager, so of course she has to coordinate it all," he admitted.

When I learned that he hired his old girlfriend as a proposal manager three years ago, I assumed there was more than a working relationship going on between them. Things quickly started going downhill between us, with his working late and avoiding me in bed. So, I did some digging.

"Does she take care of everyone on the proposal team?" I asked, not sounding angry, because this wasn't their first work weekend.

"Glenda's not a whore if that's what you're implying, not like someone we both know!" Matt insisted, and with that word 'whore' this was it! The 'gloves were off,' and he was turning this into a 'bare knuckle' fight!

He didn't hold back when he angrily added; "How many guys did you fuck for money when we were in college?"

If that's the way he wants it, then it's dirty laundry time!

"THREE guys helped me pay my rent for favors after YOU turned me down, and you've KNOWN that since before we married! But you first shared me with your friends long before that, you hypocrite!"

"Whore!"

"Do you remember the first time, getting me drunk for your friends to use me? And it wasn't the only time you did it. So, after that, why should I just entertain them for free! It's MY pussy!"

"That didn't mean you could do anyone else!" Matt insisted.

"When you passed me around to your four friends," I pointed out "you lost any right to control MY body! How often did you and your gang do that with THEIR girlfriends?"

"We were best friends in high school, and that's what we all agreed when we went away to college," he said defensively. "All for one, and one for all! Anyone who had a girlfriend for more than one month was expected to share! A few of those friends even helped us later after graduation by sending contracts my way!"

"You basically pimped me out to your friends for their favors," I pointed out.

"We were all having fun together!" he responded.

"How'd that work out for you when I got pregnant in our Sophomore year?" I asked. "Did you think that was fun for ME? I told you when you finally asked me to marry you to stop me from getting the abortion, that 'forsaking all others' shit was off the table for any marriage vows, since you started those gangbangs!"

"My parents wanted a grandson!" he said, trying to defend himself. "And they paid you to have my kid! That's the only reason I proposed."

"They took their time before ever sending me any money, liar! They just conned me into waiting too long. I asked you for the rent money I needed, before I ever asked anyone else. What did you expect? That I'd move into your 'Animal House' to be their permanent house fucktoy?"

"Whore!" he again insisted, rubbing it in my face.

"You married me just so I'd give the baby your name. And you agreed to support us," I pointed out, "It was bad enough with your occasional flings cheating on me early on. But you've been so busy WORKING with your old girlfriend these last few years that your company is failing. You're not getting the bonuses to pay off your 'secret' credit card!"

And with that revelation, he looked surprised. "You thought I didn't know about that card? Is that why you took the money out of our son's college fund, but didn't make the tuition payment?"

"We've had some bad luck," Matt admitted sheepishly. "The proposal we're working on next weekend will turn it around. When we win the contract in two weeks, I'll replace that money."

"Why are we even staying together?" I asked in frustration. "Your parents were no help when it came to raising Jason. I've been the stay-at-home-mom raising our son with no family support. Now that he's old enough and off at college, we can call it quits, and you can shack up with your slut."

"No," he said, and in a tone which I realized he at least thought about it. "She can't afford to divorce her husband any more than I can afford to toss you out! We'd have to sell this house and split everything between us. If you want to stay in this neighborhood, we're not divorcing!"

"I'm only forty years old," I pointed out. "It's time we just cut the bullshit and go our separate ways."

"No," he insisted. "You're still my wife, and we have an image to maintain!"

"Ahhh!" I said with a nod of my head. "Marriage and this house is just for show," I noticed in resignation. "Your potential customers might not want to deal with a proposal Director living in a trailer or one-room apartment. Do you expect me to stay at home to take care of your house!"

"That's enough!" he shouted. "I'm doing the best I can. You could go out and find a job to help!"

"You're right!" I said, then I had to throw salt on it. "I am looking for a job I'm QUALIFIED to do, other than cleaning toilets until I'm dead, like my mother did. But I didn't get to finish MY college degree, because of YOU and YOUR parents' scheme."

He just turned and stormed off, taking his lunch toward his home office.

I didn't try to follow him to continue arguing. I already knew everything I needed to know, and there was nothing to be gained by arguing anymore.

As a naïve girl in college, I thought I found Mister Right, the guy who came from a nice family with money. So, I followed him down his rabbit hole of drinking and perversions, until it was too late.

It's not that I didn't love our son. But when I got pregnant, I couldn't stand the thought of raising a child as an unwed mother, as MY mother did! I didn't want to see my child going hungry or being teased by the mean kids. Mama did her best for me. But I wanted MORE for any child of mine, and I felt forced into making the best of the bad choices after I got pregnant!

Matt still thinks I'm just a clueless bimbo who he might have knocked up in college. He never asked for a paternity test, after his parents found out I was pregnant and insisted that he marry me. They convinced me that if I agreed to forego an abortion, they'd provide financial support for the baby. But after I was too far along, they just didn't follow through with those promises. Their grandson was born, and we got almost nothing to handle the expenses of raising a child!

I wonder if they found out about the gangbangs their son arranged with his friends. Or was it something Matt told them, like calling me a whore that had them walking away from me. They might have doubted Jason carried their genes. I used condoms with all of my encounters, other than when Matt got me drunk with his friends. Maybe I should have taken my chances and insisted on a paternity test to prove the baby was Matt's. It's a fifty-fifty chance, since our son doesn't have the right complexion for three of Matt's four gangbang friends.

###

Friday, as expected, Matt texted that he wouldn't be home until Sunday at five o'clock. I knew that it was just his excuse to use his company's proposal development expense account for him and his girlfriend's weekend fling.

I had a friend keep tabs on him for one of those 'work weekends.' There were others who came and left their hotel room. But my contact managed to get into the room by posing as room service and left a small spy cam.

The others who went in and out of the room during the day seemed to be mostly there for the real proposal work. But they didn't stay all night like my husband and his slut did. However, the spy cam video did get some compromising videos of the two of them and even one threesome.

The Club

It was three months since the last time Matt said he was working over a weekend. With nothing else to do, I once again contacted our Club manager. As expected, Carl gave me a reservation for seven o'clock that Saturday evening!

I thought about going there Friday evening, since that bastard husband was going to be with his slut that night, too. I just felt like spending that evening home alone and watching a 'chick flick.'

Friday evening was spent curled up on the couch with a bottle of wine, watching "The Women." It seemed an appropriate movie for my mood, with Meg Ryan playing the wife who finds out her husband had a mistress and was cheating on her. I liked the scene where she was angry, wondering why her husband would need another woman, when she said; "I can suck a golf ball through a garden hose!"

So, Friday was spent to get through my melancholy evening, getting over this latest betrayal and resolving to move on with what I had to do.

The next Saturday, I was ready to go out for my reservation by six o'clock.

I was dressed in my sexiest outfit when the limo pulled up to the curb in front of our suburban home. I waited inside the front door of the house until the chauffeur, Brad came to the door and escorted me to the limo, holding the car door open for me.

When I walked up to the car, I noticed the bulge of Brad's suit jacket under his left arm as he held the door. This was just my sixth time going to the Club, and I hadn't noticed that before under his jacket.

"Are you armed?" I asked, surprised that he might be carrying a concealed weapon.

"I work exclusively for Carl, and there has been an occasional husband who caught his wife leaving or returning. That's why I always come to your door. I'm ready to end any disagreements a husband might start," he said with confidence.

I heard a story a few months ago that someone tried to press charges against a limo driver. Some husband said he was threatened, but otherwise unharmed. When the local District Attorney looked into the matter, he dropped the charges against that driver.

I thought I recognized that D. A. at least once at the bar near the Matre'd station, where we check in to The Club.

"If you ever need my help," Brad added "You have my number, so just send a text and I'll be here as soon as I can. Carl said my job is to ensure you always feel safe to return to the Club anytime you want."

"Thank you," I replied, as I climbed in, sat in the back seat, and he closed the door.

Lindsey was already in the Limo sitting beside me and Stacy was sitting across from us, facing us when she asked, "What's Matt's excuse for not being home this evening, Julie? Working on another proposal?"

"Of course," I replied in resignation. "And let me guess, Dave has clients in town and George is working late in the office," I said, referring to Stacy and Lindsey's husbands.

"I always go to The Club when Dave is busy in the evenings entertaining his clients," Stacy admitted.

I guessed that it must be a monthly outing for Stacy. Her husband's job included arranging company team-building events and other parties for their clients.

"Yeah," Lindsey replied, sounding dejected or resigned to her fate. "I hoped George learned his lesson after that last time. But I caught him again this week, so here I am! My parents are watching our toddler tonight. But with him doing it again, I've been wondering; Do either of you know if Carl would give me a regular reservation?"

"Are you thinking of making it a career?" I asked, a little shocked that someone as young as Lindsey might be thinking of doing that to her marriage. After all, the few I knew at the Club who were there more than one or at most two nights per month were older, already divorced, or they had a strange relationship with their husband. But Lindsey wasn't even thirty years old!

"You'd be surprised how many husbands around this area are cheating on their wives," Stacy said. "I think Carl has his hands full with enough angry wives getting their revenge with some 'no strings attached' easy sex hook-up. He once told me he has at least two wives from the area coming in every night, and six or more on the weekends."

"It's better than the alternatives," I admitted "sitting at home and getting drunk, or going out to a bar to pick up some stranger for company as revenge. I can't imagine hooking up with some guy just for a few cheap drinks."

"Do either of you ever feel cheap, like a whore for doing it?" Lindsey asked sounding hesitant, now maybe thinking she should be ashamed for going there.

"Oh, hell no!" I exclaimed. "My mama always taught me to use what I've got any way I want, as long as I stay safe. It's MY body, not my husband's!"

"And Carl provides a clean, safe place," Stacy added. "Besides, I find it rather exciting to role play being a 'Lady of the Night.' Doing this while I know my husband's out 'secretly' getting his hose cleaned along with his clients is appropriate payback." Stacy emphasized that word secretly to make her point.

"If it bothers you, Lindsey, why did you join the Club?" I asked.

"When I found George cheated on me that first time, it made me feel like I was just his housekeeper!" Lindsey exclaimed. "It was like he didn't need a wife. I didn't know anyone else I could safely hook up with for any revenge. I couldn't afford to divorce him. I just felt helpless. Then Stacy mentioned this as a safe option."

"Yeah, if the cheating husbands think we're just housekeepers, unaware of what they're doing or ignoring them for doing it," I observed "then they're really the fools."

"That first time," Lindsey said, now hesitating, "... I cried after the guy left. But I'm getting used to it. This is my fourth time."

"I've stayed with Matt for the last three years as things have been getting worse," I admitted "mainly for the sake of our son. Jason had enough trouble getting through high school, and I didn't want to add any stress between me and Matt to his problems. But now that our son's off to college, that chapter of thinking my cheating husband is worth keeping is coming to a close. I might find myself spending more time at the Club."

###

The limo pulled up in front of the Marquis Hotel, the most exclusive and expensive in the area. The hotel's doorman opened the limo door, welcoming us with a cheerful smile and knowing nod of his head. The three of us got out and walked through the lobby past the check-in desk and took the elevator to the penthouse. Then exiting the elevator, we walked across the large foyer to the Matre'd station to check in to "The Club."

Our "pimp," Carl was there to go over our schedules and make any updates to our profile pages before putting the pages in his book for the evening.

Carl keeps one book of descriptions of each wife who is there for the evening for the Club members to peruse. When they open the binder, the left page has some pictures of the woman in various stages of dress or undress, but we were all wearing masks when they were taken. And the page on the right lists our own sexual desires, preferences, and any hard limits of what the girl won't do.

I browsed through the binder before my first time here, and before I wrote my own profile page. I wanted to see how the other Club women described themselves. I read some rather kinky desires some of those seemingly prudish, everyday wives wrote! It was hard to imagine that some P. T. A. or church-going mom might want to be choked during sex!

Once a client selects a girl and tells Carl what he wants from her, Carl calls the phone in the hotel room where she's waiting. That's to let her know whether to expect either a club member or a guest, and to confirm her willingness to accommodate any special requests. He charges the client accordingly, then hands the customer a room keycard, sending him off to find his dream date waiting.

At the end of the evening or whenever any of us feel that we're done, we just get cleaned up and leave. But we check out with Carl, and he hands us our share of the payments for whatever we did that evening. It's always in cash, in one-hundred-dollar bills. On one good, easy evening, I've even earned over a thousand dollars just by completely draining the balls of two or three horny men in a few hours of "work!"

After our check-in this evening, Carl handed us our room key cards. I looked at it, then looked back at him asking, "Do you ever visit any of us in our room?" wondering how often he might require 'servicing'. He didn't try me out to see how good I might be when I started that first evening. So, with this being my sixth time, I wondered if he just didn't like me, or if maybe he'd drop in sometime to push me beyond my limits.

"No way!" Carl said quickly, holding up his hands as if fending me off. "My wife would kill me if she ever thought I've been with another woman! And just in case you're wondering, Brad, Darrel, and the other staff know they'll be fired if they even ASK you for any favors. Just let me know if anyone makes you feel uncomfortable, and I'll handle them."

The three of us then went back to the elevator for a short ride down to the floor immediately below the penthouse. All the wives in our town who were 'in the know' considered that floor, with the best rooms, in the best hotel in the area, as our 'Cheated Wives' Club House.' THAT is where we get our best revenge for our husbands' infidelities!

###

Finding my room number, I entered the spacious room with the king-sized bed and sitting area with the fantastic view out the large windows. There's a bathroom through a door on one side with a soaking tub, bidet, and walk-in shower, large enough for two people to use.

First stopping in the private bathroom to check my makeup, I then went to the bed and pulled back the red silk top sheet. The rooms are always warm enough that we don't need blankets. But some guys like to pull a sheet over us when we lay together and cuddle as he's recovering for a second round.

Other guys don't need the top sheets or blankets, paying to use the usual cuffs and tethers already attached to the corners of the bed. And the room has a standard assortment of toys, paddles, floggers, masks, ropes, and whips on the dresser along the wall well past the foot of the bed.

I noticed a new touch Carl added to the standard setup, with cuff's suspended at the ends of adjustable tethers hanging from ceiling hooks in front of the large window. I wonder which of the girls or members asked for THAT to be available.

The room also had two video cameras set up on tripods aimed at the bed. The red lights on each camera indicating recording were off, unless the girl's date paid for a personal video of his "amusement ride." If the girl agrees and the guy pays for it, he'll turn on the cameras and move them wherever he wants to record their playtime. Then he gets to keep the only copy by taking each of the camera memory chips. Each room is set up like this to cater to all kinds of fetishes, because some of the wives might change their mind when making last-minute deals with their date.

Stepping over to the table near the window with the impressive view overlooking the city, I retrieved the bottle from the ice bucket and popped the cork of the champagne. Pouring a glass, I just stood there to relax and admire the view of the city in the distance as I waited for my evening as an entertainer to begin.

The solitude only lasted about five minutes before I heard the phone on the nightstand ring, and I stepped over to pick it up, putting it to my ear to listen for a few seconds.

"That sounds rather tame, and is he sure he doesn't just want a quickie first and come back later for more when he's recovered?" I asked, a little surprised. "Make sure he knows he's paying by the hour.... Okay, then. It's his dime."

Carl always checks with us to make sure the selected girl agrees to any special requests beyond just blowjobs and straight sex with condoms. He warns us whether we're getting a Club member or one of their guests.

When a wife comes here for the first time, Carl briefs them of what's expected. We're working girls, and we know who is paying the bill. We can argue with a Club member, because Carl will fine them or cancel their membership for any problem they cause. We're just more tolerant with their guests, because the members might need us to help close a business deal. And that extra effort usually comes with a big tip.

Most of the club members coming to play on their own time rather than for a business deal have learned to just pay for a lower-priced quickie rather than a whole hour. They'll spend a few minutes with one of us to get off, basically treating us like a cum-dump, then go back upstairs to the bar or nightclub. And if they're feeling up to it later, they'll check in for an available girl when they can last longer. But that's what the rich can do!

The Club members coming here who start early with a full hour usually have something particular they want to do, like indulging a BDSM fetish, or posing us for a video session to appease some amateur porn producer fetish. I was just surprised when Carl described this one as a Club member coming to me for two hours and he didn't ask for any "specials."

Showtime

When I heard the click of the lock on the hotel room door, I looked over and my jaw dropped in surprise. With the Marquis Hotel being so far from our small suburb, and so outrageously expensive, I think we all thought it impossible that we'd ever see anyone we know. I was surprised to see Sandra's husband!

"Jack! Well, this is a little awkward," was all I could think to say.

I guess it shouldn't have come as such a surprise, with Sandra's bragging at Book Club last week about Jack's Club membership. I just somehow thought it would be a while before anything like this might happen. "Did you know you were picking me tonight? I would have thought you'd pick someone much younger."

"I didn't realize I'd meet someone I'd know from our neighborhood Happy Hours or parties," he said. "This is my first time here."

"You didn't know?" I asked in surprise. "I thought everyone in the neighborhood knew about the Club. Well, that is, everyone except Sandra. This is where many of the wives hang out when their husbands are busy. And I would have thought you'd pick someone younger. There's a girl about half your age working tonight."

"I was hoping to pick someone I could talk to, someone with more experience who might explain what to expect in the future."

"Picking an older woman from the book doesn't mean she's experienced," I pointed out. "Most of the first timers here are in their forties, because that's when a husband is most likely going through some mid-life-crisis and cheats for the first time. Younger girls are rare. But any experienced wife here is probably married to a serial cheater."

"Does Matt know you're doing this?" he asked. "I'm supposed to be playing golf with him next week! That's going to be a little awkward if he knows. How do you think he'll react?"

"Don't get me started," I said sounding a little terse. "He's the reason I'm here, because of his girlfriend! So, I don't care if he knows what I'm doing or not, I'm just not going to be the one to tell him. But I don't want YOU to tell Sandra what I'm doing here! And I won't tell Sandra that I saw you here."

"I don't care if Sandra learns why I'm really here," Jack said with confidence. "The bitch knew I had a sugar baby for three years, and that Megan graduated. But Carl explained that I can't talk to anyone else about who I see here when he accepted my membership. I signed the nondisclosure agreement. So, I'm not going to risk losing my membership."

"I heard about Megan," I said. "Couldn't you find another young college girl? I would think there are plenty of girls looking for a Sugar Daddy to pay their way through college."

"There was too much angst with Megan," he said, dismissing the idea. "There was always some drama going on in her life. Now I'm looking for someone who knows the deal and doesn't play those young games.... So, how does this work? What do we do now?"

"You paid Carl for your dream date," I said sweetly, now starting the seduction, "so here I am, to do your bidding for the next two hours,... within reason. It's just a date starting in a hotel room, where you're guaranteed to get lucky. What would you like me to do?"

"I don't know," Jack said, now not sounding as confident. "I hadn't really planned on what I do with a..." and he paused, probably not knowing what would be offensive or unacceptable.

"Go ahead an say it," I calmly said. "You can call me a prostitute any way you want. For the next two hours, you don't need to play those coy games of 'don't offend her.' You've already paid the price, so the question is; what do YOU want for your money?"

###

Without saying a word, Jack glanced down at his waist then looked back expectingly at me raising his eyebrows.

I grinned at him, knowing what to do next, as I stepped close in front of him and dropped onto my knees. Reaching for his belt, I unfastened it and dropped his pants to the floor, then grasped the elastic band of his briefs, sliding them down. When his stiff cock sprang out in front of my face, I gasped a little, as if surprised.

I licked my lips, wrapping my hand around it and looked up into his gleaming eyes. "Sandra doesn't want to use this?" I asked, as if admiring his size. He was about average. But I wanted to encourage him and keep him coming back for more. Almost everything I said or did was calculated to keep them interested and look for me the next time they visit.

I kissed the head, and took it between my lips, sliding my mouth halfway down the length. Rolling my tongue around the shaft, I wanted it wet as I began bobbing my head, sliding it in and out of my mouth. I knew he'd be primed and probably cum quickly the first time, and I wanted to finish him this way so we could both relax as soon as possible.

Holding that stiff shaft in one hand, I took it out of my mouth to tell him; "I'm going to make you cum in my mouth!" knowing those words making me sound so enthusiastic would excite him. Then I went back to work on it, like Meg Ryan said, trying to 'suck a golf ball through a garden hose!'

It only took about three minutes of stroking him and bobbing my head on it. I felt it twitch a few times, and I turned my head slightly sideways in anticipation. Pulling back from him, I kept the head inside my lips and aimed to the side as I rapidly slid my first finger and thumb wrapped around his cock up and down it's length, jerking him off. Then it throbbed as it shot his load into my mouth. I directed the first two spurts of his thick ejaculate toward the inside of my cheek to keep from gagging. Pulling the cockhead out of my lips, I closed my eyes and allowed another jet to paint my face, then aimed the last drips of his load onto the top of my chest, carefully avoiding getting any on my dress. Opening my eyes and mouth, I looked up at him, ensuring that he could enjoy the sight of his thick, white cum pooled under my tongue.

It was all part of the show.

I didn't swallow, but used my tongue to push it out for him to watch as it slid down my chin and I caught it dripping from there in the palm of one hand. After his cock stopped twitching, I ran my finger and thumb down the length, stretching it as I squeezed out the last drop and licked it off the tip. Then I reached for his hand to help me stand as I turned toward the bathroom.

"Why don't you finish getting undressed and lay on the bed," I suggested, turning with a seductive look at him over my shoulder. "I just need a minute to freshen up," as I went into the bathroom to quickly spit, gargle with an antiseptic mouthwash, and wash my hands, face, and brush my teeth.

When I came out of the bathroom, I stripped out of my clothes, setting the dress on a chair and discarding the bra and panties to climb onto the bed next to him.

###

Laying my head on his shoulder, he wrapped an arm around me to pull me closer. Once I was snuggled beside him, Jack started talking.

"I never told anyone else," he began "but getting married when we were about thirty years old was Sandra's idea. I had a high sex drive, always looking for my next conquest, and she used that against me."

I talk to some of the other wives in the Club, and they all said the same thing. Their dates usually become talkative after sex, as if using us as their confessors. Maybe they feel closer to us after we make them cum. Or could it be that they're feeling a little guilty and just need to get it off their chest, trying to convince us they have a good reason to be here? Maybe they're looking for forgiveness for using us this way.

"But Sandra turned frigid after we married," Jack continued. "That's why we never had any kids; sex was very rare after we married. It was really my parents who encouraged me to marry her, convincing me she'd be a good wife, helping with the charity Foundation. She was a perfect hostess, handling charity fundraisers for our family's Foundation. But with her not meeting MY needs over the years, I've found other ways. When my sugar baby, Megan graduated college in the spring and moved away, I needed another outlet. I told my family I was going to divorce Sandra to look for someone else. Then they voted to pay my expenses in this Club to keep things at the Foundation running smoothly. The Family Trust Fund pays most of our expenses. So, I'm a prisoner to their collective decisions, or my income will be cut off."

Jack just looked a little forlorn, taking a deep breath and sighed. "It's all for the family's tax write-offs and to keep the money flowing."

"We all seem trapped by our poor decisions or trusting the wrong people early in life," I admitted.

"I do actually work," Jack said, "constantly soliciting donations for the charity."

"As a member of The Club," I said trying to improve the mood "you can bring guests to take advantage of our services. Most of the businessmen bring clients here for special entertainment, to help close business deals. If you know anyone thinking of making a large donation to your charity, I'm sure we can help them decide."

"That's the idea," Jack admitted with a smile. "It's all for charity! It pays our expenses, so Sandra's caught as well. She can't divorce me, because I don't have much income, with most expenses paid as needed by those Funds. If we divorce, we have very little in savings and she'll get nothing in alimony."

***

I noticed his cock twitching a little and reached down to caress it with the palm of my hand. Lifting my head from his shoulder, I bent down to his waist to take it back in my mouth, sucking him until it stiffened. It took a few minutes using my lips, tongue, and hands stroking him and playing with his balls until he was fully hard again.

I reached to the bowl on the nightstand to retrieve a condom, opening the foil packet, then rolled it onto his hard shaft. Looking back at him as I stroked the rubber-covered tool, I asked, "How do you want me? If you'd like, I can get on top."

"That would be perfect." Jack said, putting his hands behind his head, just laying there with his soldier proudly standing at attention.

I got onto my knees and reached back to the nightstand for a bottle of lube, squirting a few drops on my fingers. Spreading my thighs open, I reached under and slipped the lubed fingers into myself, spreading that around to make it easier. Then I climbed over, straddling him, grasping his member, and guiding it in as I slipped down onto him.

I closed my eyes briefly as I reveled in the feel of this cock inside me. My husband had avoided spending any time in bed with me for so long, since he's been seeing his girlfriend. It had been MONTHS since the last time Matt bothered to come to bed with me, preferring to stay up late to avoid sex, and I missed this!

I opened my eyes and looked down at my lover as I rolled my hips, feeling the tip pressed deep inside. The feel of his pubic hair briefly touching my clit started my juices flowing and my nub started growing, desperately reaching out for more. I leaned forward, putting my hands on his shoulders as I looked down into his eyes, and I rubbed myself against him. Lifting my hips up, I slammed back down and began rhythmically riding up and down on him.

Riding on him in this position gave me control. I bounced my hips up and down, impaling myself on him. When my thighs tired, I stopped and used my kegals to squeeze him, and he smiled noticing the change.

Jack moved his hands from the back of his head to grasp my tits, squeezing them and pinching my nipples. I started bucking on him even faster. When his breathing quickened, I paused with the cockhead just inside, poised over him, and he began bucking his hips upward into me. The glorious feeling of being fucked again drove me to gasp "Oh!... Oh!... Oh!" in time with his thrusts, and that seemed to push him over the edge.

He jerked upward erratically a few times then paused, and I slipped down onto him and laid on his chest as he came inside me. I could feel his cock as it throbbed, unloading his balls inside me.

When the throbbing stopped, I waited a few seconds before rolling off to the side. His softening rubber-covered member popped out and drooped to the side.

"Don't touch it," I said as I continued to roll off the bed. "I'll be right back."

Walking into the bathroom, I returned with a warm, wet washcloth and hand towel. Kneeling on the bed between his upraised knees, I bent over and carefully went to work removing the condom and carefully wiping his cock and balls clean.

"It's all part of the service," I said cheerfully as I finished. I leaned down and gave his member a quick kiss, then crawled back to lay beside him with my head on his shoulder.

"Do we always have to use a condom?" he asked.

"We don't know your sexual history and whether or not you might have an STD," I pointed out. "So, it's for our safety and yours, because you don't know who I might have been with earlier. If I didn't use a condom with you, how can I be trusted to use them with everyone else."

"What would it take for me to do it without a condom?" he asked.

"First check with Carl and pick a girl you'll like for most of your future sessions," I explained. "We call that 'going steady'. There aren't very many women to choose from, since most of us come here only when our husbands are cheating. If you ask her to go steady and she agrees, you bring in a recent STD test showing you're clean. You arrange for a steady date with her, agreeing to maybe at least two hours per month, but it depends on what she wants."

"What about her, the one I pick?" he asked. "She could still give me an STD from one of her other clients."

"We all use condoms, and Carl requires the wives to be tested for STDs before we come here the first time. If we return after that first time, we're tested at least twice per year," I said. "And he'll require the same from you and all other steadies. After you make that arrangement, then your regular girl will always go bareback. You can still ask to use any of us. Most of us will check with your girl and take a bareback referral from her. There are a few who always insist on condoms. Look at the bottom of our profile sheets to see if the girl checked the box for "Accepts Referrals."

"Have you done that?" he asked, "Taking a referral and going bareback?"

"A few times," I admitted.

***

As he was recovering for a third round, I noticed Jack looking at the toys on the dresser.

"If any of those interest you," I began, "just say the word, and we can negotiate it. If you just want to use a toy in me, I don't mind. Go ahead and pick one. But for the paddles and whips, I'll need a little more incentive."

"Not really," Jack said. "I was just looking over the selection. But truth be told, I like laying here with you. At my age, I need to focus on touching and kissing to get hard. Tying you up and beating you wouldn't be a turn-on."

Looking down at his soft cock, I replied "Well, let me see what I can do to help you focus," and I began kissing my way down his chest until I took him back into my mouth.

"Turn around," he directed. "I want to slide my fingers into your pussy while you're doing that."

"Your wish is my command," I said and shifted to straddle his chest, positioning my ass and vagina in front of his face, as I leaned down to take his cock back into my mouth. Then I felt his hands back there as he spread me open and began pumping two fingers into me.

When his cock was hard for the third time, I got off of his chest to retrieve another condom and rolled it onto his stiff member. Staying on my knees, I turned away from him and bent forward, keeping my ass up. Jack rolled onto his knees and crawled into position, sliding his condom covered cock up and down until he found the opening and pushed into me to fuck me from behind.

He pumped in and out, over and over at a leisurely pace, as I just lay with my face and shoulders on the bed allowing him to use me. Slapping my ass a few times, he soon quickened, and I noticed his breathing change as he started panting.

"Oh, yeah! Oh, YEAH!" he exclaimed as his pace became erratic. Then after a few more deep thrusts, he paused, holding himself planted deep inside me. I could feel his cock as it again throbbed, once, then a second time as he emptied the last of his reserves inside in the condom.

Pulling out, he rolled onto his back allowing his softening cock to flop to the side.

And I noticed there was no condom on it. Reaching one hand to my sex, I felt around until I found the end of it, and I pulled it out of my twat, removing his spunk with it.

I rolled onto my side, holding the condom up in front of me and shaking my head. "Oh, you're such a naughty boy," I chastised him. "Next time, try to pull it all out together," and I chuckled.

I rolled off the bed to toss the condom into the trash, and went to the bathroom for another washcloth, returning to clean him.

With the second hour coming to an end, the phone rang as a reminder. That was our 'ten minute' alert. If my client wanted more time, all he had to do was ask and hand me the money, and I'd ring Carl telling him of the new time limit.

But two hours is about the most any man can handle. Any woman who wants to try can completely empty any man, even a young stud, in two hours. She just needs to WANT to do it. And I certainly do.

I remained naked, lying on the bed with one hand at my sex, slowly playing with myself for his entertainment as he watched and dressed. When he was ready and fully dressed, I rolled off the bed and walked him to the hotel room door. I opened the door and Jack stepped into the hallway before turning to look at me.

"I had a fantastic time, Julie," he said wistfully. "I hope we can do it again sometime."

"Only when I'm working," I said. "But you're nice, and I'd like to spend more time with you. I have your cell number from the neighborhood 'Happy Hour' list. If you get a text from me asking for your recommendation for a good bourbon to buy," I suggested. "you'll know I'm working that evening. Reply with 'Angel's Envy', then I'll tell Carl to wait for you to come in and send you to me as my first for the evening."

"Sounds like a plan," Jack said with a smile. Then he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in for a passionate kiss.

When we broke the kiss, I noticed a handsome, big, linebacker-sized guy watching us from about forty feet away down the hallway. As Jack turned toward the elevator and disappeared inside, I turned back to the linebacker, waved, and smiled at Darrel, our security guard. He quietly said something while holding an earpiece at the side of his head, probably updating Carl on us. Darrel cheerfully returned my wave, and I turned to go back into my room.

###

Letting the door close behind me, I heard the click of the lock, and I thought briefly about Darrel right outside in the hallway. He has a master key to easily enter our rooms when called. And I wondered if he'd ever try... Then I wondered how big he really is.

Shaking that thought out of my head, I went into the bathroom and spent about thirty minutes taking a quick shower, brushing my teeth, checking my makeup, and making myself appear fresh again.

It wasn't yet ten o'clock on a Saturday night, the evening still young. And almost as if on cue, the phone rang. I knew (hoped?) as expected it would be Carl checking in with my next date's requests.

The last thing I'd want when I'm here for an evening is to sit in this room alone for hours, feeling unwanted. Even though they're paying for it, I can at least pretend I'm desired, knowing that they chose ME. And I toy with their excitement, doing my best to enhance their whole Dream Girlfriend experience for them!

Picking up the phone and listening for a minute, I replied "Of course!"

I glanced at the selection of floggers and paddles on the long dresser near the foot of the bed. This guy sounds like he knows what he wants to do with a very willing woman. I wonder which of those he's going to use first on me.

A Real Job

It was midnight when I was done for the evening, after being in this room for five hours. Lindsey was already sitting in the Penthouse bar, where we agreed to meet for a late drink together before heading home.

Stacy was standing at the Matre'd station talking to Carl when I came out of the elevator. When I walked up to him, he quickly counted out twelve one-hundred-dollar bills and handed them to me.

"Really, Carl?" I asked sarcastically. "Is that all? I'll have to stand at the bar after that last spanking!"

"You know the rates, Julie," Carl said in exasperation.

"That still doesn't seem fair," I complained.

"We've been through this before," Carl said disparagingly. "You use one of the hotel's best rooms. I pay Darrel for your security outside in the hallway to keep you safe. There's dedicated staff to quickly bring your room service, drinks from the bar, or refresh your lube and condom supplies whenever you want. Then there's the overhead for toys, video cameras, other stuff, and your limo rides! And you have on-call protection at any time."

Stacy interrupted, saying "One wife's husband threatened her, and Brad brought her and their kids here until things cooled down with him. She wasn't billed for their three-day stay in the regular hotel rooms." Then she turned to Carl, saying "But I think Julie knows all of this, Carl. She's just jerking your chain. When we were coming here this evening, she said she might be interested in a few more evenings."

"Great!" Carl said "If you can handle some regular evenings and hours, I'll provide you with added benefits. I'm trying to NOT exploit you ladies, just because you're angry with your husbands," he said defensively. "But if you call me to come here only when you catch your husband cheating, you're just a temp and I have scheduling problems. You get your revenge out of it by cuckholding your husband, and you get a few hundred dollars. But if you want to become a regular employee, it makes my job easier, and I can provide the same employee benefits I give Brad, Darrel, and the other staff."

"How would that look on a resume or mortgage application?" I asked. "After all, I can't put down 'prostitution' as my means of income."

"You'd be a 'Club Hostess'," he said. "The Club is a legitimate business. And I even have a few of our clients I give discounted rates to provide their professional services free of charge to you. If you need a lawyer, financial advisor, or mortgage underwriter, it's easy. As usual, the rule is 'Be discrete!' No one EVER discusses who or what goes on here. You ladies can talk among yourselves. And you can talk to your own husband about it, if you want to take that risk. But we've had two of the wives go through nasty divorces after their husbands found out they came here."

"Was that why I heard about some limo driver being charged?" I asked.

Carl chuckled before saying, "None of you ever need to worry about being charged with anything or threatened. Your husbands are the ones whose well-being might be at risk if they ever decide to complain. There are a few people who appreciate me being discrete about their visits here, and for me keeping THEIR names out of any scandals. They owe me favors. I'll try to help any way I can to keep you coming back. And if you're interested in a steady date, I've recently had another member ask about that kind of arrangement."

"I've put up with my husband's shit until our son went off to college," I admitted. "I'm not getting any younger, so it's time. Carl, I think I'm ready for a few more nights and even a steady date."

"Good, Julie," Carl replied. "Call me tomorrow after church. We'll discuss the details, and I'll put you in contact with any help you might need. In the meantime, let me know when you three are done in the bar and I'll have Brad drive you all home."

The Proposal

Matt arrived home on Sunday at five o'clock as I expected, and I just went along with his bullshit, pretending he had a busy weekend at work on the contract proposal. I didn't even bring up his girlfriend being there. I merely feigned a little interest by asking how much he thinks he'll get in a bonus if they win. But I didn't really care.

After talking to Carl that afternoon, before Matt came home, he gave me an idea of how much I might make by working more at the Club. I learned that he pays a bigger percentage of the customers' payment to the full-timers! Then we came up with a tentative schedule for the monthly income I wanted. So, I now have a job!

Tomorrow, I'll pay a visit to the divorce attorney. Then I'll get with Carl's recommended mortgage underwriter to arrange buying out Matt's share of our house, followed by meeting with the financial planner to set up a retirement account. After all, I'm not getting any younger.

I'll make the best of what I've got while I can. And hopefully Matt will be served with the divorce papers within the next week or two. Then I'll kick that shit out of MY house!

Epilogue

The book club meeting ended with our discussion of the latest book about a talking octopus. Allison volunteered to host next month's meeting. Her choice was for everyone to read Book One in a five-book series about a college slut.

"I heard it's an erotic book about a high school girl going off to college," Allison said.

"Do we have to read THAT book?" Sandra exclaimed in frustration. "Sex is one of those things we DO NOT discuss in polite company!"

"Really, Sandra?" Lori added sarcastically. "I didn't think you knew the meaning of that word."

"Of course, I know what sex is," Sandra retorted in a huff.

"I meant 'polite'!" Lori replied, and it was hard to stifle our chuckling.

I was hard pressed to hide the smirk on my face, not wanting to ask if Sandra really knew anything about sex. I couldn't mention what her husband told me, or even what he did there. It's against our Club rule. And I wouldn't want to be impolite by bringing up someone else's marital problems.

Her husband, Jack, already asked me to be his steady date. Of course, I said "Yes!"

I was even thinking of going back to college to get my degree. I wonder if I could be a 'sugar baby' in my forties? I might talk to Jack about that.

The End

#####

Author's Postscript: "The Club" was first introduced in my story "The Fucking Bitch!", about Stacy and how she started a club for wives seeking revenge against their cheating husbands.

After posting other two stories about a neighborhood wives' Book Club, "His Vixen" and "Going Down Together" about Allison and Lori's adventures (mentioned in this one,) I decided to incorporate all of them as an on-going Book Club series, while I expand this community of normal looking but dysfunctional marriages.