It’s None of Your Business!

Prologue

As he plunged into me, over and over, I could hardly believe this was happening! That cock pounding away at me felt fantastic. His friends on either side were each holding one of my ankles as they held me spread open, making this effortless for me. I could just lie here relaxing and focus on the feeling of him thrusting into my pussy, until he finished. Then I expected a very short break while they changed positions with one of those other magnificent hard-ons at my sides taking his place. Or they might tell me to get on my hands and knees, so they could both enter me from either end and I could have one in my mouth at the same time.

I wonder if they'll make me clean their cocks with my mouth when they're done.

Carl was right. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I could have so much fun!

It might seem like I'm just their fuck-toy for the evening. But I missed so much sex over the last few years, I needed this and MORE, to make up for lost time.

I tried to tell my husband where I was going tonight. And he would have known it meant I'd be getting fucked, if he had bothered to listen! Well, I didn't know it would be THREE men at the same time. This was just an opportunity I couldn't resist. I gave Gary enough chances, doing everything I could think of to make him change his bad habits. Now I don't know what he'll do when I go home and tell him about this. Maybe he'll finally wake up and try harder to keep our marriage alive with me. But if he wants to divorce me over it, so be it!

Intro

I, Lisa, met my husband when we were in our late 20's via work friends. After dating for two years, he proposed marriage. We seemed so compatible, I eagerly said 'Yes!' In those early years our sex life was fantastic.

As expected, when the kids came along, things changed. We slowed down, with the young ones taking all our energy after work. I hoped Gary and I would spend more quality time together when the kids were older and as we entered our empty nest years. Now after over twenty years together the twins are heading off to college, and this should be our time.

Over the last ten years, our sex life declined further than even when the kids were younger and needed more attention. I assumed that this decline in our sex life was just due to age. But I never lost hope that things would get better between me and my husband when the distractions of the kids at home disappeared as they left the nest. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. So, what happened next wasn't my fault.

Once the kids were in their teens and more independent, I spent time before or after work going to the gym and watching my weight. It made me feel more energetic,... and sexy! I wanted so much for my husband to embrace me again.

My husband, Gary, on the other hand, was the one putting on weight and drinking more. I don't think it was due to any stress at work causing his issues. He was always upbeat about his job whenever we talked about our work. He was just drinking more and not bothering to exercise or get out of the house. The only time he would go anywhere without me was to work at his office or stop at a bar with his co-workers after work.

I was worried about him, because his own father was an alcoholic. I thought it might be an inherited trait, and I tried warning him to watch out for the signs that he might be drinking too much. But every time I mentioned it; he got angry and dismissed my concerns.

##

It was Friday and I was feeling horny. I finished reading the monthly book club selection by lunch time for our meeting the next morning. That erotic novel made me want it, and it had been far too long since the last time Gary and I had sex.

I came home from work an hour early to surprise my husband, thinking I would entice him, envisioning us rekindling the flames of passionate sex we enjoyed in our younger years. I put on sexy lingerie, hoping for once to seduce him. But he came home from work later than I hoped, and I could tell he stopped at a bar with friends! He ignored the way I was dressed merely asking "What's for dinner?" as he went straight to the liquor cabinet to pour a drink.

I was horny, and here he was at least two drinks into his usual sluggish evening and looking for more alcohol!

I got mad and angrily said "Fix your own dinner!"

"Good," he replied as if sounding relieved. "I'll call to order a pizza. Let me know if you want anything besides extra cheese on it," and he took his drink into the living room to watch TV.

I stormed off to bed feeling frustrated and unsatisfied. Lying in bed, I was fuming at his behavior, ignoring my needs. Then I leaned over to my nightstand and pulled out my Hitachi Wand to work myself into forgetting my pot-bellied oaf in the living room.

Book Club

After the discussion of that erotic book, I was again feeling the need for relief which I knew wasn't going to happen at home. As we were all leaving, I walked beside Julie toward our cars, hoping to wrest some nuggets of information from her about her new single life. I was curious to know how she handled the issue of declining intimacy with her husband before they divorced.

"How have things been since you kicked Matt out, Julie?" I asked. "You haven't said much about it, and I think everyone is just a little too embarrassed to ask."

"I'm a lot happier now that my cheating bastard is gone," Julie said.

"You said before that you two weren't getting intimate for the last three years since he started with his girlfriend," I reminded her. "How did you deal with that lack of intimacy when you were still married?"

"Each time he ignored me after being satisfied with his girlfriend," Julie said, "I went to 'The Club'. It eventually got to the point with him spending so much time with her that he didn't want sex with me anymore."

"Is The Club like a pick-up bar," I asked. "I heard some rumors about a place some of the wives go. But other than for cheating, I could never see any reason to go to a place like that. Did Matt know you were going there?"

"It's not what you think, Lisa," Julie replied. "A girl has needs, and sometimes a few of us will have a drink together at the Marquis Hotel bar. It's just a safe place to get what we need. Matt never knew I was going there, and with his own girlfriend, I doubt he would have cared if he did know. That's why I kicked him out."

With that, Julie got into her car and left.

Through Sickness and In Health

The call took me by complete surprise. It was just a normal day at work in my office, when my husband's boss called saying an ambulance was taking Gary to the hospital emergency room.

"It appears to be a heart attack, Lisa," he said. "The elevator was full, and he decided to try climbing the two flights of stairs! But he was found in time, and I think the ambulance crew and doctors can do wonders about these things today. Let me know what the doctors say, and if there's anything we can do for you as he recovers."

But the doctor told me that my husband needed to lose weight and stop drinking.

"His liver enzymes are way off," the doctor said and added, "You might have noticed the whites of his eyes are yellowing. That's a symptom of decreased liver function. If he stops drinking immediately and completely, his liver will recover somewhat after about a year or two. But if he continues using alcohol, his liver will eventually fail. And he's not eligible for a transplant with his weight and alcohol abuse."

The doctor went on and on, talking directly to Gary to impress on him the severity of his condition.

"You were lucky they found you quickly," he said. "Ten or twenty minutes later, and there would have been too much damage to the heart muscle, which can't be repaired. Too much delay in getting blood flow to the heart destroys the tissue and patients who live through it are often bedridden. I have one patient who can't even lift his own head due to the heart damage. If you keep eating the unhealthy foods, it's only a matter of time before you have another heart attack or even a stroke."

##

While Gary was in the hospital, I visited him while he was awake. When he slept, I went home to clear out all alcohol from our house. I cleaned out the refrigerator and restocked it and the cupboards with healthier choices. There would only be healthy food in our house from now on for him. I also bought a treadmill and had the shop deliver it, setting it in the basement for him to use when the doctors would finally give him permission to start walking. Gary would be able to walk for exercise in any weather while watching the wall-mounted TV. I wasn't going to allow him any excuses for avoiding exercise!

But over the next few months, I found my efforts were a waste.

We Need to Talk

"Gary, I've been finding fast food wrappers in the trash," I said when I confronted him. "And you haven't been using the treadmill I bought for you. The doctor told you that you need to exercise more to lose weight. And you must watch your diet! He warned that your old diet was risking more plaque buildup for another heart attack or stroke!"

"You're not home all day to see me use it," he said, trying to deflect, and I knew he was lying to me.

"I know you're not using it!" I exclaimed. "In case you didn't notice that treadmill and the new scale in the bathroom are both Wifi connected. There's an app on my cellphone that shows when the treadmill was used and what our weights are every time we step on the scale! That app shows it's been used when I was on it. And the scale shows you've put on another five pounds in the last month!"

"So, you're spying on me," he said, now trying to turn this around to blame me, as if I'm wrong.

"Give me a break!" I shouted. "I'm not stupid! I also saw the credit card statements and noticed a re-occurring charge every few days for the price of a bottle of scotch at the liquor store! And I know I haven't been buying anything there. It's the same amount for a bottle of your favorite Scotch! Where are you hiding it?"

"Stop nagging me!" he insisted. "I've been trying to cut back."

"You almost died!" I shouted. "I spent those days in the hospital sitting with you and I don't want to go through that again. If you won't take care of yourself, then forget about that 'In sickness and in health' wedding vow. That only works for unexpected things outside of our control. THIS is something you're doing to yourself,... and to me!"

"It's not easy to quit!" he admitted. "It's my body, and none of your business!"

"It is my business if I have to take you to the hospital!" I shouted. "If you won't stop drinking and take better care of your health, then,... then I need to look out for myself! If I catch you taking another drink, I'm going to look for other options."

"Are you going to file for divorce?" he asked, sounding surprised. "If you do, I won't sign it!"

"I love you, and I don't want to divorce you," I said, trying to appeal to any sense of obligation he might have left for me and the kids. "I want you to be there with me when our kids graduate college and for you to see them start their own families. But I have needs. You're not just doing this to yourself. You're doing it to the kids and to me, too! And if you're not going to be there with me in bed, then..." and I paused as I shook my head, and my mind bounced around with what I should say next to try catching his attention. "... then I need to try finding someone who wants me! If my husband no longer wants to use my vagina, I'm sure I can find many other men who will!" And I stormed out to let him think about it, hoping my threat would catch his attention.

I ran up to our bedroom and slammed the door, dropping onto the bed where I cried for an hour before I finally fell asleep, alone.

##

Over the following few evenings, I tried talking to Gary about his alcohol and weight issues. He just kept repeating the same refrains that 'You don't know what it's like,' or 'I try but it's not that easy.' It seemed the more I pressured him, the more he retreated and tried to deny there was any problem. We would both eventually get frustrated or mad, and he would default by telling me 'It's my body and my life, so leave me alone!'

I couldn't get him to change his bad habits with threats, guilt trips, or even seduction. He was no longer interested in sex with me.

It was about four days after I confronted him when I came home from work, and I saw Gary in the kitchen taking a drink from a pocket flask. When he saw me, he quickly tried to hide the flask, looking guilty. So, I didn't need to ask, his expression was the only proof I needed. And THAT was the final straw!

I just turned around and slammed the door as I left the house. I got back into my car and drove forty-five minutes to the Marquis Hotel. Taking the elevator to the penthouse bar, I hoped I might find someone there for some relief! Or at least I might find Julie or someone I might recognize from our neighborhood and could talk to.

The Club

It was about six thirty on the Friday evening when I stepped out of the hotel's elevator.

I thought the woman standing to check in across the foyer at the restaurant's Matre'd podium looked familiar. I might have seen her around the neighborhood. Maybe I bumped into her at a high school play, or I might have seen her at church, ours being a rather large congregation and I didn't know everyone who attended the different services. But she looked stunning, in a short red cocktail dress and four-inch heels. I looked down at my own attire, still dressed in my usual office work clothes, black slacks, three-inch heels, and a conservative blouse.

The girl at the podium was handing her a credit card sized item. The woman turned to me saying "Hold the elevator please," as she took the card and walked toward me to take the elevator down. As the elevator door closed, I went to the Matre'd, saying "I was hoping to meet a friend here at The Club."

The girl asked, "Do you have a reservation?"

"No, I'm not here for dinner," I replied. "I just wanted to find The Club."

"Well, the nightclub doesn't open until seven, and the band starts at eight," she explained. "You're welcome to sit at the bar to wait for your friend," and she indicated the door nearby to the bar and lounge.

"Okay, I'll try that," I said as I turned and entered the bar.

The large room was well lit, with dark wood furnishings. There were various sitting areas with low tables and overstuffed leather chairs and couches spaced apart for relative privacy. Only two of the areas were occupied by groups of four men each who didn't even glance my way when I entered. The bar itself was along one wall with a dozen barstools and there was a couple at the far end engrossed in their own conversation, so I took one of the seats closest to the door and picked up a wine list.

The bar menu didn't have any prices, so when the bartender came to me, I asked for a glass of wine from near the top of the list, a vineyard I recognized as one of the least expensive.

"What member name should I use for the tab?" she asked.

"I'm not a club member, I'm just waiting for a friend," I explained.

She merely smiled and poured my wine, then placed a slip of paper in an empty drink glass along the inside rail of the bar for my open tab. When she walked away to check on the other couple, I picked out the paper to see that for what I thought was an inexpensive glass of wine I was charged thirty dollars! I knew this was one glass from a bottle of wine that cost less than ten dollars at the grocery store. The shocked look on my face must have been obvious.

As I replaced the slip of paper, I heard a voice behind me asking "Do you mind if I sit here?" and I turned to see a handsome guy in a black tux indicating the chair beside me at the almost empty bar.

"Not at all," I replied, welcoming him with a wave at the bar stool next to me. As I regained my composure, I just thought to make this very expensive glass of wine last.

"I haven't seen you here before," he said as he took the seat. "I'm Carl, the hotel's penthouse club manager. I thought I knew all of the usual patrons. Your name...?" and he waited expectantly for an answer.

"I've heard rumors of a club here," I explained without giving my name, "... sort of a place for lonely housewives just out looking for something different, like a pick-up bar. But this turned out to be more than I thought possible," as I raised my wine glass with a look of astonishment.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but this is not that kind of bar," Carl explained. "This bar and the restaurant are more for the business-types with expense accounts paid by their corporations, or the rich with money to waste. The business types are here trying to win contracts, impressing clients by throwing money around for over-priced food and drinks."

"I'm not on an expense account," I said and took a very small sip of the wine.

He must have noticed my frugal sip, when he said, "The nightclub across the hall attracts couples and hotel guests for a special evening out with lower-priced drinks, bar food, and dancing. That might be more the speed you're looking for. But in this bar, the prices discourage single women from spending too much time here waiting for their 'date' to show up. It might send the wrong signal."

"My friend, Julie, said she hangs out at The Club here," I pointed out. "Did she mean that nightclub?"

He gave me a curious look, before taking out a cellphone and saying, "Excuse me for a moment," as he tapped a few keys and sent a text message. He studied the phone for a few seconds, apparently waiting for a response as it was being typed. Seconds later it pinged with a reply, and after reading it, he looked back at me.

"Well, Lisa,..." he started, and his using my name caught me by surprise, "... The drinks are on me." He reached for my bar tab, withdrawing it from the glass and crumbling the paper to drop on the bar. Noticing the quizzical expression on my face, he explained, "I took your picture before I came over to talk, and I know Julie. She's vouching for you and gave me your name. So, if you'd like, I can offer you more details on The Club. But first you'd need to sign a non-disclosure agreement."

"Non-disclosure agreement?" I asked. "Is The Club a government secret?"

"No," Carl replied dismissively, and he waved the bartender over. She must have been listening and she brought a paper and pen, handing them to me. "It's not that The Club is a secret. I think almost everyone in the area has heard about it. But many members are sensitive to their names and activities being broadcast to the public. So, the agreement is that you won't discuss anyone you see or any of their activities. You can only talk about what you do, not what other club members, or their guests do if you recognize them around here."

"Okay," I said as I filled in my name and signed the form, curious to learn more.

"Good," Carl said as the bartender took the form and turned away from us going off probably to file it with others. "Now you're welcome to come here anytime you want. So, let's talk about why you came here tonight. I noticed you're wearing a wedding ring. You mentioned a 'pick-up bar.' I'd guess you're either bored or having issues with your husband at home. He might be cheating on you and you are looking for revenge, or he's lost interest in you."

"Right so far," I admitted, without selecting which was correct.

"Well, this isn't a pick-up bar, so you're out of luck if that's what you expected. I could recommend another place near here, if that's what you want. But I'd caution you to be careful. There are predators out there, and some don't want to hear 'No' as an answer if you don't like them or change your mind. Don't take any drink they hand you, and even watch the bartenders carefully, because there are some sleazy ones."

"You're trying to make the whole bar dating scene sound scary," I casually said.

"It's a power game," Carl said, as if it were obvious. "I'll be blunt so please excuse my language. But I once saw a woman wearing a t-shirt that said, 'I have the pussy, so I make the rules,' and that's basically true. Women have the power to say 'Yes' or 'No', whereas guys always want to hear 'Yes'. And there are a few predators out there who will take away your ability to say 'No', any way they can. There are risks, so this is just friendly advice; be careful."

"Thanks, I will," I said as I sipped my wine.

"But if you're just looking for a no-strings-attached hook-up," he continued "what if I told you there's a safer way?"

"Go on," I said still nursing my wine.

"You're good looking and in great shape. I know men who would pay to spend time with you."

"I'm not a hooker," I said tersely, dismissing his suggestion, now seeing where this was going.

"But you would go to a bar and have some total stranger buy you drinks and dinner and pay for a hotel room. What's the difference? And you'd be putting yourself at risk of a stranger trying to push you into more than you might want."

"That's not the same thing as taking money for sex," I complained.

"Whether the guy pays for drinks, dinner, and a hotel room or hands you the money to pay for all of that, it's a difference which makes no difference," Carl replied. "They're paying the bill and playing your game, getting no guarantee of getting what they want. The more they're played by women saying 'No' after buying them expensive dinners, there are some pathetic guys who get desperate enough to try changing the rules of your game. I'm not defending them, merely pointing out the facts of life."

"That's one way of putting it," I said. "I guess the only safe way is for women to pay for their own drinks and dinner."

"You can. But always watch your drink glass!" he advised. "I'd recommend finding a girlfriend to watch your back and both of you look out for each other. But what if you joined a club where everyone agrees to have fun and safely gets what they want, both you and your date? Your husband cheats on you, and you want a guy to play with for an evening to get even. You want it on your terms. Or your husband isn't ringing your bell, and you want a guy to scratch your itch, then forget about him when you go home. And you don't want the risk of hooking up with someone who chases you down later demanding more and threatening you. Would you be interested?"

"Okay," I admitted. "So, where's this fantasy club?"

He waved the bartender over, pointing to my barely touched wine glass and said, "Shari, could you replace that with something better?" I watched as she selected a bottle with a label I recognized was from far down the list on the bar menu and probably the most expensive wine, and she handed me the glass after she poured.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" I asked.

"No," Carl said dismissively. "I just want you to feel comfortable as I give you a tour. Bring your glass and let's go someplace a little more private," he said and stood, waiting for me.

Leading me out of the bar, we waited in the foyer for the elevator.

"There's no one location like that bar which I could show you as 'The Club'," Carl said as we waited. "It's more of a group of like-minded people with similar interests, who I bring together to have their fun." Then the elevator door opened, and he waved me in, following me and pressing the number to take us down one floor. "The hotel has rooms with great views here, and I reserve all of the ones on the top floor for our club members. I want to show you one of the rooms," and the elevator door opened.

Carl stepped out of the elevator, and I followed, noticing as he waved toward a large man standing in the hallway.

"Darrel," Carl said, "Could you open one of the unused rooms for us."

The big guy pulled a room key card from the end of a lanyard and swiped it at the lock of a nearby room, pushing and holding the door open for us and he gave me a friendly welcoming smile as I walked past him. Carl stopped inside the door and when I entered, Darrel allowed the door to close behind us.

"Don't feel alarmed," Carl said as he saw me glance back at the door closing us in together. "You can leave at any time, and Darrel won't try to stop you. He'll never stop any woman from leaving. He's only there in case any man needs an attitude adjustment. I just wanted to show you one of our rooms I have ready for use by the club members. And we do have some women as paying club members or guests, with some of the wives listing that girl-on-girl as an option."

"So, this is a working girl's room? And they charge money?"

"I handle all of the finances," he explained. "The lowest priced service is when they pay for a minimum of an hour of your time for hand jobs, oral, or P. I. V. sex with condoms," Carl explained.

"What's P. I. V.?" I naively asked.

"Penis in vagina, or just straight sex in any position. They're looking for a woman to play with them for one hour, getting them off at least once."

I noticed the tethers hanging from hooks in the ceiling on either side of the window. Glancing at the array of things on the dresser, I knew what some of those cost and there must have been thousands of dollars' worth of sex toys, restraints, and some things I've only seen in a doctor's office. I was surprised to see one was a rather nasty-looking whip. When Carl noticed this catching my eye, he went on; "We have upcharges for extras, such as anal, restraints, BDSM, videos, or anything else."

"What woman would ever allow herself to be flogged or whipped?" I asked, sounding outraged.

"No one is ever forced," he said dismissing my concern. "Some women, for whatever reason just want some extra stimulation."

"What if I don't want anything kinky?" I asked, as I ran a hand along some floggers and a very large dildo.

"You'll fill out a profile page with your likes and dislikes, and any hard 'NO' which you won't allow, and I keep those pages in a binder for the members to browse! I only show them the pages of the women who are here for the evening, and the guys tell me what they want. I'll call you here in the room where you're waiting. If you agree, they'll pay me, and we give them a key card to your room to find you here and ready for your fun. At the end of the evening, you check out with me, and I'll hand you cash for your share."

"And what's my share?" I asked.

"You get one-third, and the minimum we charge a member is three hundred," he said. "The other two-thirds cover the cost of the room, supplies, setup, and security. Darrel out there in the hallway is just seconds away and listening, in case any of you need his help. Your meals and drinks in the restaurant and bar are at no charge. I'll send a limo to pick you up and return you home, and I keep ten percent for my work organizing and scheduling everything. If you do more than one guy in one hour that evening, your percentage for the men after that goes up to fifty percent, since the cost of the room is already covered."

"One hundred dollars to suck and fuck a guy for an hour doesn't sound like much," I said.

"But you would be willing to pick up some stranger in a bar and do the same thing for a few cheap drinks?" he asked, and I realized he was right. "At least this way you walk away with more than that. And most of The Club members leave cash tips before they leave."

"So, what's the catch?" I asked, wondering if it really worked as he described. "How often would I have to work? How many men do I have to 'entertain' every night? Are you going to blackmail me with hidden videos to use me until I'm worn out? And I expect you now want me to do a 'tryout' with you."

"No," Carl said putting his hands up as if fending me off. "My wife will kill me if she ever thinks I'm with another woman, and she knows someone on the staff here who would tell her if I cheated. As for how many and how often, it's whatever you want. As I said earlier, I'm doing this 'Club' as a service to bring people together to get what they want. The members have the money to pay for it."

"And you want me to work for their money for you," I said, now sounding offended.

Carl shook his head slowly as if thinking I still didn't understand him. "I know where Julie lives and many of the other disgruntled wives in your neighborhood looking for revenge, bell ringing sex, or who just want to earn some extra spending money without their husband knowing. I don't ask why, and I don't judge. But I have enough money flowing through here with wives calling me for reservations that it pays for all of the rooms on this floor every night! So, I don't need you to do it for me. Do it for you! You might even do it once, and decide never again, and I'd respect that."

"What would I do to get started?" I asked, just out of curiosity.

"Well, it won't happen tonight," he said, and that surprised me. "There's a blood testing clinic near here, and you'd need to go there for an STD test. I'm not going to introduce you to a club member or guest if you have an STD. Go to the clinic whenever you want, and tell them, Carl sent me,' and they'll take it from there. They'll send me the results within a day, and I'll text you that you're welcome to return. We always insist you use condoms unless we've cleared the customer or guest. Once I let you know you're clear, call me whenever you want to schedule a room. You check in at the podium upstairs, and she'll give you a room key. When your date arrives, you know what he wants, and he knows what you described about yourself. So, you can both relax and have fun."

"How many guys would I have to do?" I asked.

"One, or as many as you want and I can find for you," he said. "If you handle one guy, and you've had enough, just get cleaned up, come back upstairs, and I'll give you your share. You don't ever need to see us again. It's always your choice."

"I'll have to think about it," I said.

No Way!

I left the hotel knowing I would never agree to have sex for money! Carl was a smooth talker, making it sound so easy and innocent, two people just doing what they want and having fun. But he would still be a pimp, charging men money to fuck his whore.

I have two kids and a husband! What would the twins think if they found out their mother was taking money for sex? What would the neighbors think of 'the whore next door'? And could I really cuckold my husband?

However, as I thought about it, I finally realized I had heard of The Club at the Marquis Hotel before this evening, and I didn't know much about it. Most of the time people mentioned it, it was always in different contexts. It seemed to be a business or social club to me, while some others thought there were more salacious activities going on. But no one ever explained their suspicions.

Carl said he had plenty of wives from our neighborhood to keep that whole hotel floor busy, and yet if Julie hadn't admitted to going there, I wouldn't have known she was doing it! She was my friend and neighbor, and she didn't need to admit it to me. She could have told me she was hanging out at the nightclub, and I'd never have known. So, if I went back there, as far as anyone else would know that would be no different than what I just did, going to the bar or nightclub and having a drink. But I still didn't want to believe I'd could ever have sex for money.

After I came home from that short, informative meeting, I found Gary passed out in his recliner at nine o'clock. He had been drinking, again!

That's when I gave up!

I turned around and left the house to get back into my car with every intention this time of going out to get fucked! Tonight!

I stopped at a local bar closer to our house than the Marquis, and the parking lot was almost full. But when I walked into the dark bar, I noticed many of the men stopping to look at me. Carl's warning suddenly flashed in my mind, and I realized it had been decades since I dated. I was alone and in over my head here, now feeling like I was on display. Which one could I trust and who were the predators? They all looked the same, as if devouring me with their eyes.

I turned back to the door feeling a sense of panic and quickly left.

I felt powerless, unable to even cheat on my husband to get even with him for his ignorance!

Then I remembered how Carl started our conversation, about seeing a woman wearing a T-shirt; 'I have the pussy, so I make the rules.'

I'm only powerless if I don't use it!

##

On Monday, I hesitated outside the clinic doors, as I thought "It's just a blood test. What harm could it do?" Then I resolved to go through with the test, and went in. When they asked me for the doctor's order form for the blood work, I told them "Carl sent me," as he had suggested. The receptionist gave me a knowing nod of her head and directed a lab tech to take care of me.

The next day, I received a text message from an unknown number saying, 'You're welcome,' which I knew meant Carl had the results of my blood work showing I was clean. But I still couldn't believe I would ever do it.

##

On Thursday, when Gary came home late from work again, I went to our bedroom to cry, again! When I was out of tears and my sobbing stopped, at first, I felt defeated. He was going down the same path of alcoholism as his father, and nothing I tried was working to get him to stop.

How could he keep doing this to me? To us! Then I felt a new determination as the idea awoke in me. This pussy rules! And it was going to slap the shit out of Gary's manhood to catch his attention!

So, I called Carl.

First Date

At six o'clock on Saturday evening, Gary was watching TV when I looked outside to see the limo stopped in front of our house. My husband had what appeared to be a soft drink in a glass on the small table beside his easy chair. But I knew he poured a small, airline bottle of liquor in it when I wasn't looking. I've found several empty bottles buried in the kitchen trash. He had stopped buying the larger bottles of Scotch so I wouldn't see the credit card charges. I think he was using smaller amounts of cash to buy these airline bottles on his way home from work each day to hide it from me.

Gary was so engrossed with the game he was watching on TV that he didn't even acknowledge me going to the foyer wearing a black cocktail dress and four-inch heels, carrying a large purse. At the front door, I called out to him to say I'd be home late, and he didn't react! That was his last chance to care about me, so, I left.

##

It was just before seven o'clock when I opened the door with the key card the girl at the Matre'd podium gave me. I took the few steps inside the room and paused looking at the bed. I'm here and I'm really going to do this.

'I'm going to have a real cock to play with tonight!' I thought.

I saw the two video cameras set up on tripods pointed at the bed and I walked along the long dresser, nervously eyeing all of the toys. When Carl showed me the room on my tour, I thought he was showing me the options I could ask to be available. I didn't realize that it was the same collection of toys, paddles, and whips, with cuffs, tethers, and video cameras in every room!

I told him that tonight I just wanted a quick date to have sex for an hour or two at most!

I opened the top drawer of the dresser and began sweeping the toys and other implements into it, trying to return the room to look like a normal hotel room. Then I moved the camera tripods to one corner of the room and turned the video cameras to point to the wall. Now except for the condoms on the nightstands and the tethers hanging beside the window, it was only the red silk sheets on the bed which made this room different from any other hotel room.

I went into the bathroom and changed clothes, putting on the lingerie I wore the last time I tried to seduce my husband.

I had been in the room for about twenty minutes getting ready like this when the phone rang, and Carl asked if I was ready for a club member who just wanted straight sex, nothing extra. I agreed and nervously awaited my lover. When the guy entered, I tried to toy with him.

"Do you like my outfit?" I coyly asked, not knowing what else to say.

We knew why we were both here! He's here because he paid for an hour of my time to make him cum. And I'm here because I want to be fucked by a real cock, not with some toy in my own hand!

He began unbuttoning his shirt, not bothering to reply about my attire, so I stepped up to him and unbuckled his belt, then dropped to my knees. His beautiful hard cock popped out when I pulled his pants down and I immediately took it in my mouth. Holding the stiff shaft, I tried making love to it with my lips and tongue, glancing up at his expressionless eyes. But I no sooner felt it fully hard in my hand than he grasped the back of my head and didn't give me any choice as he roughly used my mouth, thrusting into it and sometimes pushing in so far as to make me gag! I put my hands on his hips to try controlling it. But he seemed determined.

It felt so... demeaning, as if he was just using me. At the same time, I still wanted him to want me this badly! I wanted this cock, a REAL cock in me. And I was willing to take it any way he wanted to give it to me.

He only spent a minute holding my head and face-fucking me, before roughly pushing me away.

When I fell backward and to the side, I caught myself with one hand on the floor. It dawned on me that he wasn't here to seduce me. He was paying for this, and he wanted his money's worth! But I had my needs and reasons to be here, too.

I rose from the floor, quickly stripped out of the lingerie, and lay on the bed with my knees up and legs spread open while he finished undressing. Beckoning with the fingers of my hands, I harshly directed "Get over here and fuck me!"

He put on a condom, climbed onto the bed between my upturned legs, and I grasped his hard-on to guide him in.

Feeling him penetrate me, a real cock I hadn't felt in a long time, THIS is what I was waiting for! He started aggressively thrusting into me and I responded, wrapping my legs around him and pulling him in. I squeezed my kegels, trying to draw his energy from him. Wrapping my arms up around his neck and shoulders, I pulled us together, placing my lips at the side of his head and neck.

"Oh, yes!... Oh, Yeah!... Oh!... Oh!... Oh!" I gasped in time with his thrusts. When I finally reached that excited plateau of pleasure, my legs began to quiver. I enjoyed the feeling of getting there as he continued to pound into me, his groin impacting my clit with each thrust, then it hit me, and I finally went over the top. I couldn't stop myself. Throwing my head back, I growled with animal passion as I dug my fingernails, my claws into his back. His own thrusts became erratic, pushing in violently and deep two or three times until he paused buried to the hilt in my cunt! I could feel him pulse over and over as he emptied himself, and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight against me.

That glorious feeling lasted a minute until we both felt the other's muscles relax. I knew he was done for now, and I released my grip as he withdrew the spent member and rolled off to my side and I pulled my legs together.

Now just lying here on my back, I felt empty,... and alone. This guy was a complete stranger, and I didn't even know his name. We laid beside each other, not saying anything, and I rolled over onto my side, propping my head up with a hand to look at him, wondering what I should say. Silly things went through my head like; 'Thanks for fucking me,' or maybe I could ask 'Was it good for you?'

Noticing that he hadn't touched his condom-covered member, I decided to silently roll off the bed and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm, wet washcloth. Without saying a word, I sat on the bed beside him and went to work, removing the condom and cleaning him as he laid back with his hands behind his head and watched me.

It took a few minutes of caressing his member before it began showing some life. I massaged his cock and balls with the warm cloth until it was clean, then leaned over sucking him into my mouth. Stroking and bobbing my head on it soon had him hard again and he picked my head from his lap, causing me to release his stiff shaft from my mouth.

"I'm here for pussy," he said as he put his hands behind his head and laid back. "Climb aboard."

I reached to the nightstand for a condom, opened the packet and carefully rolled it onto him. Climbing onto the bed on my knees, I straddled him and reached down to guide it in as I sank down to ride him.

In that position, I enjoyed several waves of pleasure as I bounced up and down, sometimes leaning over to grind myself against him as I remained impaled, squeezing him. We both came a second time, and as we were lying together afterwards, he asked, "How are you feeling?"

Under the circumstances, that question caught me by surprise, and I hesitated before answering. "Good," I admitted. "I haven't felt that in years! Did you enjoy it?"

We relaxed together now that the silence between us was broken, making what seemed like small talk, with him questioning me about why I was here and what I felt like. And I wondered if every club member was like this. When I asked him why he was so curious about me, he finally told me.

"I pay Carl a bonus to be the first man with a new wife here," he admitted. "I'm a research psychologist with a government grant paying my membership and expenses here. I want to get your unrehearsed reactions and answers to my survey immediately after you've done this for the first time. That's why I didn't talk. I don't want to influence your experience."

"I talk to women who do this for their first time, within minutes after sex, and I want to know how they really feel about it." He explained. "We don't get the same answers later, or they don't feel the same way if asked the next day. You'd be surprised that when they're in the room like this, some wives who come here the first time break down and cry," he admitted. "Later, they might only admit to being a little sad. They might even come back for a second or third time. But it's never the same as this first time you stray from your husband."

"How am I doing compared to the others so far?" I asked.

"You're handling this very well. Have you cheated on your husband before this?"

"No. But things between us have built to the breaking point," I admitted.

I didn't know this man. But if he can use me for his psychology work, then I may as well take advantage of his free counseling.

"My husband and I haven't had sex for almost two years. I wanted something, someone other than a toy. He didn't even notice me when I wore that same lingerie two months ago. He just walked past me to pour a drink," I explained, and I know my marriage must have sounded pathetic.

"Have you thought of divorce?" he asked.

"I mentioned to him that I'd start looking for other options. He said he doesn't want a divorce," I explained. "And I still love him as the father of our kids. But I have needs, and he doesn't care about what I want."

##

When my date's hour was up, I lay on the bed naked on my side as I watched him dress to leave. He was fully dressed, and he walked to the side of the bed to stand in front of me. Taking out his wallet, he pulled out a ten-dollar bill and carelessly tossed it on the bed in front of me. Then, he asked, "Does this make you feel any different?" and I realized this was more of his research.

Carl said he would pay me later when I was done for the evening. But this guy wanted to see me react to getting money now for what I had done. He wanted to make me feel cheap before he left.

I reached for the bill, picking it up and staring at it for a few seconds, before calmly saying "Do you think I'm a ten-dollar whore? I thought I was better than that."

He just smiled, asking "Do you think you'll be back for more?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. "It depends on my husband and whether or not it even matters to him."

He pulled a one-hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and carefully offered it to me, saying "Never sell yourself short. You are worth far more." After he left, I laid back feeling content and thought of how I'd use this experience to try saving Gary.

##

The next morning, I confronted my husband with what I did. I told Gary that I went to 'The Club." Like so many other people in town, he knew some of the rumors from those who believe wives going there were having sex with the big spenders in an exclusive, private club.

"So, you're a whore now," he said with that derisive and judgmental tone you'd expect.

"That was the first sex I've had with a cock in over two years!" I exclaimed. "The money was just a bonus!"

"You're my wife, and vowed to forsake all others," he said giving me a disapproving stare, shaking his head.

"You tried to claim that your health and your drinking was YOUR business," I pointed out. "Well, this pussy is now MY business! If you don't want me going back to the Club, then stop drinking and start exercising!"

"My drinking and weight are not cheating like you having sex with someone else!" he insisted.

"When you lied to me about exercising." I started, "or buying alcohol and drinking and hiding it from me, you were cheating! Whether it's sex, drinking, your health, or just looking at other women! If you can't talk to your wife about something, how you feel, or what you're doing, it's cheating. When you're trying to hide things from me, you're cheating! What's left between us, if I can't trust you to talk to me and tell me the truth!"

"You just don't understand," he said meekly.

"Please, at least stop drinking!" I begged him. "I want you to live longer with me and come to bed with me."

"It's not that easy! And this body's exercise and health takes my effort so it's MY business, not yours!" and he turned to storm out of the room. I ended up sleeping alone in our bed that night, and not for the first time.

##

A few days later, I was taking the bag out of the trash bin in the garage to replace it. When I dropped the full, plastic bag on the garage floor, I heard the distinctive 'clink' of empty bottles in the bottom and knew what I'd find there. I dug out three small liquor bottles! And I could only wonder how many he successfully hid from me.

So, I called Carl to set up another date for Friday.

When the limo pulled up outside that Friday, Gary was again watching TV, and I was again wearing my club attire when I walked into the living room. Setting the three empty bottles on his side table, I said "I won't lie and hide it from you, like you do to me! I'm going to the Club."

I didn't wait for a response, as I went to the front door, leaving him sitting there surprised and speechless as he watched me leave.

Second Date

When Carl called, he said the groom's father was a Club member, and he told Carl his son was getting married in a few days and Carl could charge the account for whatever they wanted. The three guys arranged for just one hour with me to share together. They were all a little more than ten years younger than me, and I hoped they'd have more stamina. After the groom went first with his friends holding me spread open by my ankles, they each took their turn in me. But these young guys were simple, quick, and easy, and I hadn't orgasmed yet.

As they sat back on the overstuffed chairs in the sitting area with their beers, bonding together over sharing a 'whore', I didn't take offense. It was the truth! They were paying me. With their quick fucks over, I was now on my knees crawling between them sucking their cocks and trying to get them up to take care of what I wanted. But their hour was almost over, and I decided to play my own game.

I stopped sucking the latest one who was only half hard, and stood naked in front of them, with my hands on my hips.

"Your bride-to-be will certainly be disappointed if that's all you've got!" I exclaimed to the groom, and I gave him a mischievous smile. "Do you think she'll ever let you fuck her in the ass? The phone's right beside you. Which of you has the balls to call Carl to extend your time with me?"

##

It took just over three hours! But the three of them were finally out of energy, and I couldn't get a reaction out of any of their shriveled dicks. When I was teasing the last one with my tongue, he pushed my head away, pleading for me to let him rest.

During this whole time, I thought of my husband, sitting at home,... drinking! And each time I envisioned him with a drink in hand, I steeled myself to make the most out of this evening! I wanted to slap him silly with the details to force him out of his alcoholic decline!

I had dared these guys to try a D. P. Then later they gave in and called Carl again to add a charge for 'airtight' with me. By then, THAT took some work to get two of them hard enough to push into my pussy and ass. The remaining limp one was easy enough to take in my lips.

That's probably why guys like blow jobs so much. They don't need to get hard, and it's all on us to get them up!

After they left the room, I took a relaxing shower and dressed. It wasn't even eleven o'clock this Friday evening, and the night was still young.

Taking the elevator up the one floor, I checked in with Carl at the Matre'd station in the penthouse.

"You had a very productive evening," he said, when he handed me twelve one-hundred-dollar bills!

"I loved having three of them," I said, sounding enthusiastic and smug. "I talked them into 'one-upping' each other with me! I felt... powerful, turning this into a game of seeing how much I could get from them. Whether it was getting them hard and cumming multiple times or just wondering if I could get a better tip, it was all an exciting game to me."

"Well, that's what the Club is supposed to be," Carl said with a smile, "everyone having fun."

I didn't tell Carl why I was really doing this tonight. But I'm HOPING this time, when I tell Gary about my evening and taking three men at the same time, it might finally hit my husband in his manhood and make him change! I want this to be my last time here.

Epilogue -- Two Years Later

It was an uncomfortable position, almost doubled over like this. My shoulders and head were propped up by three thick pillows and my ass was turned up on a large foam wedge under my hips. But I could see the results as I worked the muscles of my stomach and lower abdomen pushing it out.

My date sat on the side of the bed just below me admiring his handiwork. We both watched as his cum oozed up and out of my now bare pussy. The thick white goo slid down the crack of my ass and onto the wedge until I couldn't push any more out. It was a weird but erotic scene, and I could imagine why his wife never allowed him to do it with her.

When Carl called two hours earlier, he said this guy was tested, safe, and wanted to shave me in this position using the two electric razors. (I doubt any woman would allow a stranger to use a real razor on her.) I've never shaved since I started growing hair down there, always viewing my bush as a sign of maturity, but I agreed to allow it. Carl promised that Darrel would be standing just outside the door and listening for any sign of distress from me, knowing what we were doing in here.

My date had me tethered and spread open in that vulnerable position with my pussy turned up and open for most of the hour as he first removed all of my pubic hair. Then he hovered over me thrusting his thick cock down into my twat as I watched it penetrate me until he unloaded his spunk without a condom. When he withdrew and sat on the bed, he told me to push it all out as he watched.

Seeing that the show was over, he released one of my wrists from the tether at the bed corner and he turned to get dressed. I rolled to the other side to unfasten the tether from the cuff on that wrist and the two holding my thighs up and back to spread me open while he worked on me. I rolled off the wedge and stretched my legs out, arching my back a little to get the kinks out.

Now that my date was done, he thoughtfully placed an extra two-hundred-dollar tip on the nightstand before asking, "How are you going to explain your bald pussy to your husband?" He sounded like he was proud of what he had done, marking a wife with her infidelity by shaving her. It probably gave him some perverted sense of power thinking he's causing a wife's potential dilemma or embarrassing her husband.

"We buried my husband this morning," I casually said, noticing I was still wearing my wedding and engagement rings. And I said that without any hint of grief. Then I glanced down at my newly shaved lips and ran my fingers along the smooth skin. It felt very different without the hair, kind of exciting.

"Oh. I didn't know," he said quietly, now not knowing what to say. "I'm sorry," he added quickly, as he turned and walked out.

I realized that I WANTED this tonight, this stranger shaving me, as if this change to my body might overshadow my husband's passing! I was still feeling numb to it all through the last two weeks, sitting with him in the emergency room and hospital room, waiting for the end, then dealing with the arrangements afterwards. I needed this as a distraction,... and this change with a bald pussy! It's like I'm starting over.

I rolled out of bed, went to the bathroom, cleaned up, and dressed. Walking out of the room and into the hallway toward the elevator, I noticed the way the material of my panties felt against the skin of my now bare sex. The smooth feeling down there felt intriguing, arousing.

Instead of taking the elevator up one floor, I went to the stairwell to walk up the two flights to the penthouse, drawing out the sensation of each step to enjoy this new feeling of my panties rubbing me down there.

When I checked out with Carl, he handed me the earnings for my evening's work. Then he pointed to the bar, saying "Julie's in there. Why don't you join her? Brad will have the limo for you in front of the lobby when you two are ready to leave."

##

I entered the bar and out of habit waved at the bartender, saying "My usual, Shari." She reached for the best bottle to pour my one and only glass of wine for the evening. With Gary's problems with alcohol, I haven't had a drink at home in well over two years. I indulged in just this one glass of wine whenever I would come here to The Club, using it afterwards to cleanse me of my sins each evening.

As I sat on the bar stool beside her, Julie said "I was surprised to see you here this evening, Lisa. You must have come here right after the wake this afternoon. How are you holding up?"

"It's been a rough two weeks," I said with a touch of sadness. "But I've had two years to slowly get numb to it and get used to the idea of where he was headed. He just wouldn't change or quit. I think it hit our daughter the hardest. But our son was more pragmatic saying, 'Who didn't see this coming?'"

"Are they staying with you at home this evening?" Julie asked.

"No, I'm okay," I replied, trying to reassure her. "I told them I needed some time alone and they should return to college where their friends would be there for them. They both left right after the wake. Life goes on. They know I tried to help and support their father as much as any of us could. They just didn't know I did it this way, calling for a reservation here every time I found a bottle."

"Did it slow him down at all?" she asked, and I had to think about that.

"As far as I could tell, he'd stop for two or three days before I'd dig through the trash and find another bottle. I was up to three times a week here, trying to get him to change by telling him about it the next morning."

"He won't be there tomorrow morning, and that's when it might hit you the hardest" Julie said, sounding concerned. "I could stay with you tonight; in case you need a friend in the morning."

"I'll have to think about it," I replied, then I realized I was here,... and without finding the bottles! It suddenly occurred to me; I searched the trash for those bottles,... but ONLY every two or three days! Now with Gary gone and no need to search trash anymore, there was no reason to ever return to The Club! But I'm here tonight!

Looking at my glass of wine, I slowly pushed it away, not wanting or needing it anymore. I covertly moved my left hand under my short skirt to slide a finger under my panties and along the smooth lips of the new, different me. This is who I am.

I'll be back in two or three days; I'm addicted to it! I understand now what Gary meant when he couldn't stop drinking. And that's a bad thing, right?

Realizing what I had been doing, and thinking about what I now wanted,... maybe what I needed, I deserved to be punished for wanting to come here so often and punishing Gary with my descriptions of what I did here. I had a vision of standing naked in front of the windows, with my cuffed wrists attached to tethers to hold me there. Before I leave here tonight, I'll ask Carl to change my Club profile page. I'll check the boxes to allow paddles, floggers, and even that whip.

I've been a bad girl!

The End

#####

Author's Postscript: My "Book Club" series is a set of interconnected stories of Loving Wives in a suburban town, with their normal, dysfunctional marriages. The other stories are:

"The Fucking Bitch!", A pre-quell to the Book Club, Stacy starts a different kind of 'Club' for wives seeking revenge against their cheating husbands.

"His Vixen" Allison wants to feel desired.

"Going Down Together", The Book Club gossip tells Lori her husband is cheating, and she sets out for her revenge.

"Cheated Wives Club", Julie becomes a regular at 'The Club', and Sandra's husband joins the clientele.

"Neverland; Don't Go Back There!", Wendy is worried her husband of 20-years will find out about her promiscuous past.