1. Ambivalence


    Date: 10/15/2014, Categories: Hardcore, Author: timojen, Rating: 8, Source: LushStories

    them, convince them, then I’ll know you’re okay with it,” Ellen had said, earlier. Now I wondered if she was just being cruel. Maybe her fantasy was to humiliate and cuckold me. How could I do it and still live with myself? With her? “Look at that ass,” said one of them. Gary, I think his name was. Several of his bros grunted agreement. Apparently, they’d forgotten about me, altogether. At six-foot-two, I take up a lot of space and I look like an extra from a Conan movie, which says something about how amazingly distracting Ellen’s ass is. Yeah, talking these guys into fucking my wife would be a no-brainer. “My thoughts, exactly, Gordo ,” I said, staring pointedly at him. Hearing my deep voice, six heads turned to face me. Each was a mask of surprise, as if I’d popped, genie-like, into existence. And fuck, if I wasn’t about to grant them a hell of a wish. “It’s Gary,” he said. Gary, smiled nervously as I straightened my spine, looking down at him sternly. No longer affable or meek. All six of them shrank back fractionally, intimidated. It felt good. “Well, Gary , ‘that ass’ is five bills an hour,” I lied. The extemporaneous words felt right. I smiled broadly at my sudden customers, pleased with my impromptu salve to my ego. Granting wishes sucked, but getting paid, selling my wife’s cruel fantasy, sat quite well with me. “The group rate is twice that,” I amended. Five hundred was too low for first year associates who billed at three-fifty an hour and made a point of boasting ...
    about it. Gary’s mouth popped open. Ellen had been dressed to kill, upscale-sexy, but not anything like a professional. She had that Audrey Hepburn lanky birdlike grace and she projected class with ease. “You’d never in a million years guess she was a working girl, huh?” I said. And she wasn’t. Not yet, anyway. Ellen would kill me if she found out. I smiled again, already relishing her anger. My hard cock pushed pleasantly against my slacks. What a feeling. “Erm. Ah, so, you’re her pimp?” one of the other’s asked. “Her husband. We just like subsidized weekends in Vegas. And she likes fucking strangers, preferably in groups.” Another lie. This was our first trip to Sin City. She hadn’t done it before, and I wasn’t so sure she could pull it off. Seconds passed as they each looked at one another. I was spooking them, I realized. Queering the deal. They needed time. “I’ll be at the bar, if you want to pay for the fuck of your lives,” I said. I walked as casually as possible to the bar and ordered a double-scotch. No one saw my hardon. I watched them huddling in the bar mirror. Would they flee or would they bite? I couldn’t decide which would be worse. If they left, I’d have to go through the whole thing again, unless Ellen lost her nerve. Gary tapped me on the shoulder just as my drink arrived. They were in. Working out scam free payment (I didn’t want to go up and walk them in, then take the money in front of Ellen) took ten minutes. We negotiated terms and rules for another few ...
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