Trophy Wives

Jessica was doing her part, slowly dragging her sponge over her ever erect nipples and letting the fingers of her other hand explore an apparently very dirty spot between her legs. She looked over toward Stephen and saw that he was working to get up for her again, and she smiled at him. She did one final rinse off and then turned off the water. She stepped onto the fuzzy bath mat and then toweled off in as exotic a way as possible.

Stephen was definitely on the road to recovery, but having orgasmed just five minutes ago, he was still a little ways from being ready for penetration. Jessica felt she was dry enough, and she left the towel on the floor and walked back toward the room. "Follow me."

Stephen did as he was told, a common theme this evening, but one that had served him well. The bed was now finally brought into play as Jessica stood beside it and motioned for Stephen to have a seat. He sat down on the edge of the bed and had his hopes answered when the naked woman knelt before him. She took his semi limp penis in her hands, and he spread his legs so she could lean into the edge of the bed.

Her tongue snaked over the head slowly, tasting the mixture of flavors from the previous activities that evening. She went up, down, and around, cleaning off any pussy juices that remained and moistening his shaft. On her trip back up, she spread her glossy read lips and took him inside her mouth. She sucked on him hard, her tongue pressing him up against the roof of her mouth.

Her hands did not get involved, and Stephen guessed that she wasn't worried about tiring out her mouth as she was only going to get him hard so she could have another ride. He tried to think about something else to stay soft, but if he closed his eyes, he could only imagine the busty blonde sucking him down to his balls. The real life image was better, and he just gave up and embraced the amazing feeling as he watched her work.

The full erection returned after a few minutes, and Jessica graced him with a few extra lip smacking sucks before she stood up. Stephen scooted back on the bed as Jessica climbed on all fours to get on top of him. While he enjoyed the view and from below, he was feeling a bit emasculated by this woman since she was giving all the directions and she was always on top. While he knew that Kevin had arranged this and it had nothing to do with him or what he wanted, he still felt like driving at least this last portion.

Jessica sat down gently on his new erection, moving slowly at first to be a tease. Stephen would have none of it. Instead, he reached up to her narrow waist and rolled her over with his strong arms so he was suddenly on top. She cried out at the sudden change of position, but didn't complain. In fact, she began to shout her approval as he rammed her from above.

"Ooooh, yes! Fuck me hard!"

Stephen obeyed, not listening to her words, but focused on making her breasts bounce as hard as possible. In his brief time on his back, he had seen there was a mirror above them, and he straightened his body as he thrust ahead so she could see the full reflection of his cock penetrating her.

Stephen noticed her eyes pointing up at the reflection and her right hand snaked down to investigate the drilling. He fingers played with her clit while she focused on her breathing. Stephen felt he was a long way from an orgasm yet, and didn't relent, slapping his tool into her as hard as he could. He rolled her legs forward to get a better angle for a few thrusts and then straightened one leg to change it up a bit more. He finally found the G-spot as he sat down a little further so his thrusting was parallel with her spine.

"Ohh, ohh, ohh!" was the confirmation he got that he had found the target. And he nailed that spot for all he was worth. His hands held her hips tight and pulled them back into him with each thrust to emphasize it. "Uhahh, uhahh, ohhhAHHH!" she couldn't find words anymore, and her sexy chanting was starting to have its toll on Stephen's stamina.

"Ohhh, oohhhh, oooohhhhhaaAAHHH, Fuck ME!"

Stephen leaned forward at the last second in order to keep from being thrown back. His hands grabbed for her breasts and he hung on for dear life. He managed to stay inside her despite her orgasmic gyrations, and as he felt her warm fluids gush around his cock, he began to lose control as well. He drove himself hard, prolonging her spasms and soon added his own.

"Yes, give it to me! Give it to me!"

Stephen obeyed his mistress one last time and gave her a second helping of his thick cream. The two stared into each other's eyes as they rode out their orgasms for what seemed like minutes. In the end, Stephen collapsed on top of her, completely out of breath.

Chapter 3: The Story

"Wow," was the only thing that came to my mind as Stephen relayed this story to me. I looked down at my cold steak realizing how engrossed I had been with the story. I hoped it tasted good reheated on my grill at home. "That story is amazing."

Stephen was looking at his cold steak as well and decided to leave it and focus on the red wine. "I can't thank you enough," he added.

"Of course," he continued. "After we had recovered, cleaned up and got dressed, she took me downstairs to the hotel bar where Howard was waiting for us. I can't remember what we talked about though. He bought me a couple drinks and told me that he had arranged tonight for his wife and him. He had been hidden in the room the whole time and must have slipped out while we were getting dressed in the bathroom. He told me not to think this would ever happen again and not to tell anyone."

Stephen took another drink to try and recall anything else of importance. "I think we talked for a while more, but I had a couple glasses of scotch and barely remember how I got home, though I think he called me a taxi, because I had to go back and get my car this morning. All I do remember is thinking that it was the best $10,000 I had ever spent."

"You haven't spent it yet," I reminded him, knowing that 10K to him was a drop in the bucket.

"Oh, right, of course, I'm sorry." He pulled out his checkbook and proceeded to write the 5-digit number in question. "If you have any trouble cashing this let me know, and I'll do a wire transfer."

"I shouldn't have trouble," I said, folding the check in half and putting it in my pocket. "My bank is used to large check deposits from me because of my work with Howard."

"I will say this," Stephen said leaning back. "I will never doubt your abilities again."

"To ingenuity," I raised my glass to him and he accepted the toast.

* * *

Driving home from the restaurant with my porterhouse in a styrofoam container beside me, I couldn't get the images from Stephen's story out of my head. It wasn't hard to picture Jessica naked as I had seen her sunbathing by the pool or swimming laps on my numerous visits to the Steller home. And while I had obviously fantasized about her, Stephen's descriptive story went beyond anything I had imagined.

I began to wonder if I couldn't have set something up for me instead. I shook my head at the thought. Howard would have thought less of me if I had offered to cheat on my wife. That made me think of Peggy. Was I that much worse off? Was she a model? No. Could she be? I didn't see why not. There are subtle differences between beautiful women that make one a top line model and another just pretty. Most of it was attitude. Jessica clearly had that in excess. My wife had her moments, but she was far less outgoing and daring. Her dress the other night had shown little cleavage or leg. She had it to show, but she was also there in part for business, so she had been modest.

Comparing the two women, I didn't see much difference. My wife wore a 36B bra, while Jessica was a 34D. If I understood bra sizing correctly, a 36B was the same breast mass as a 34C, meaning Peg was only a little smaller. But my wife was a push-up bra away from being a 36C, and since I don't even remember the last time I had seen Jessica in an outfit where she was wearing a bra, it was a wash.

Jessica was perhaps 10 pounds lighter than Peg and she was two inches taller, but my wife had that extra weight in her butt and thighs, where I liked it. I liked her full round ass better than Jessica's, and her thicker thighs gave me something to spoon with at night. Jessica's more toned body might be good to look at – hence the modeling career – but I like something more tactile.

All this thinking was making me horny as in my head I began to replace Jessica with my wife as my mind played out the scenes Stephen had described. Unfortunately, my mind forgot to exchange myself for my friend, and I nearly ran a red light as I imagined Stephen fucking my wife in the penthouse suite.

Eventually I got home, and seeing an empty garage, knew my wife was still out. She better get home quick, I thought, because I needed to have sex in a bad way. A message on our answering machine said she would be home around 9, which was only a few minutes away. I had just enough time to stash the steak in the fridge, brush my teeth, and put on her favorite aftershave before I heard the garage door open. I quickly peeked out of the window to make sure she was alone in the car and then went downstairs to meet her.

The door from the garage opened and she stepped in. "Hi honey, how is-" was all she got out before I was on her. She had probably been at a club with her friends, because she was dressed up with a button down blouse and a short skirt. My fingers went between the buttons of the blouse and I ripped it open, sending buttons flying around the room. I had 10k to buy her a new one later.

She had a white, lacy push-up on, and my hands palmed her full breasts as I locked my mouth on her aghast lips. My tongue went in her mouth, and as I pressed my body against hers to let her feel my hard on in her stomach, she decided to forget about her confusion and responded to my passion. Her hands went up under my untucked polo and began rubbing my back as I massaged her breasts and tried to touch her tonsils with my tongue.

I had her pinned against the closed door and shifted my hips so my knee could slide up between her legs. I managed to push up her skirt and my hands left her breasts to grab her ass. I lifted her up and she appropriately wrapped her legs around me, squeezing hard against my taut jeans. My hands were on her bare ass, and I recognized she was wearing one of her cheap thongs she used to accompany some of her tighter skirts to avoid panty lines.

I sat down with her on the couch, our mouths still locked in an ever increasingly passionate kiss. Once we were safely down, she let go of my body and shrugged her ruined blouse off her shoulders. I was in the process of ruining another piece of her clothing and found a loose seem on her thong to rip at. After a few sharp tugs, the thong fell away from one leg, and my fingers reached down to finger her quickly moistening pussy.

Peg reached down between us to unzip my jeans and then fiddled with my boxers until my dick sprang out of my pants. It was hard to do with our lips still locked, but she managed just fine. We had to release our kiss momentarily As I put pressure beneath her to raise her hips a bit so I could slide into position beneath her. She responded, and let out a gasp as I penetrated her wet snatch.

She bounced up and down for several good thrusts to make sure I was inside, flopping her lacy tits in my face, and then, recognizing that I was pretty much ready to pop when she had come in the door, she slowed down and brought her face back to mine. We kissed for about five minutes solid, our tongues like mating snakes in our mouths. Down below I flexed inside her and she squeezed her response.

I felt my balls constrict, and I knew that even without much stimulation, I was going to have a pretty powerful orgasm that I could not hold back. As smoothly as possible, I picked up my wife again and slid off the couch to kneel on the floor. I laid her down on the carpet next to the coffee table and gave her five good, boob-shaking thrusts before my nuts exploded inside her.

She craned her neck to look, but her skirt covered everything up. I spurted three or four times and then lost the strength to stay up and collapsed on top of her. Peg didn't say anything for a while and just cooed softly as she rubbed my back as my head lay on her breasts.

"Story?" she finally asked after several minutes.

I didn't pick up my head from her chest as I explained myself. "Stephen had a story of conquest to tell me, and it got me wound up."

"Does he have a new girlfriend or was it just a one-nighter?"

"The latter," I explained. "He picked up an unsatisfied trophy wife last night and had a very wild evening." I thought if I tiptoed up to the truth it would be safer than weaving myself into a web of lies. Remember, I'm married to a shrink.

"Is he going to get in trouble?" she asked back.

"No. The husband was okay with it. In fact, according to Stephen, he watched the whole thing."

I could "hear" Peggy smile. "Ah, the infamous open marriage discussion."

I did pick up my head now and turned to look at her. As I moved, I felt my limp penis fall out of her, and I quickly got up before I dripped on her skirt. I pulled a few tissues from a box next to the couch and handed several to my wife and cleaned off myself with a few more.

"Not exactly," I started to explain as I zipped up. Peggy sat up as well and staunched the flow of semen from her vagina with the tissues I gave her. She sat cross-legged on the floor in her skirt and bra as I talked. "An open marriage is where either partner can have limited sex with someone else. This is different. I've heard it explained as an 'arrangement' that these older men have with their younger wives that they can have sex with others under certain guidelines. Some want to watch, others just want to know who it is. No women are lining up to have sex with the old men, so it isn't the same as an open marriage. They do it because they can't keep their own wives satisfied so they rely on a rent-a-dick."

She chuckled at the crude classification of my friend. "And so you drove home and imagined yourself in Stephen's shoes, screwing some hot young wife."

"Always trying to paint me as the bad guy," I smiled back at her. "But if you must know, yes, that was my original thought, but I quickly realized that I was the one with a hot wife."

Peg had gotten to her feet, and pulled a few extra tissues to further clean my voluminous load as more drained out. "So you imagined setting me up with other men so you could watch?" she asked as she tossed the tissues in the trash.

"Not intentionally."

"You mean you did?" She stood with her hands on her hips, her breasts quivering at her outburst. I couldn't tell if she was mad or just shocked.

"I said, 'Not intentionally,'" I clarified. "I had these images of Stephen boinking this woman, and when I swapped you for the woman I forgot to get rid of Stephen."

"You imagined me having sex with Stephen?" She sounded almost intrigued with the idea. I filed that piece of information away for another time.

"For like three seconds, and I almost ran a red light when I did it. I was quick to imagine the two of us in a hot tub slurping champagne of each other's naked bodies, and thus the greeting you received."

"Champagne in a hot tub?" Again my wife looked interested. "Stephen lives an interesting life."

I had nothing to say to that. We stared at each other for a few moments before Peg broke the silence. "Well, if you'll excuse me, this little encounter has left me wanting, so I will be upstairs with the buzzer. Once you've recovered your strength, if you would be so kind as to join me, I wouldn't mind a second ride."

My wife swished her hips around, showing off her bare ass under her skirt and climbed the stairs toward our bedroom. With that parting shot it wouldn't take me long. I went downstairs and found my hidden Maxim mag with Jessica in it. I spent a few moments thinking about her and Stephen, then about Jessica and I, and then about my wife and I. I topped of the fantasy by imagining my wife with Jessica, and my dick sprung back to life. I knew I was too soon for Peg to be done upstairs, so I gave that last fantasy a bit more play and then went upstairs in search of more sex.

Chapter 4: The Thank You Kiss

The phone rang Monday morning as Peg and I were having a late breakfast. She didn't keep normal office hours and only went in when she had appointments. I worked from home, so I didn't keep any office hours. It was Howard.

"Good morning, Kevin," his voice sounded chipper. I hoped there wasn't any fallout from Friday night. Stephen didn't mention anything, but he also admitted to being pretty drunk afterwards and probably wouldn't have been able to tell if Howard's stern demeanor was extra stern.

"Hello Howard."

"Are you busy this morning?"

I looked at my watch. It was a little after ten. "I have a closing at one and another at three. Other than that I've got nothing."

My wife got up from the table, motioned to her watch and then mouthed, "I love you," and left. She had an appointment at 10:30.

"I was wondering if you could come over this morning. There's something I want to discuss with you."

Howard lived about 20 minutes away. Figuring an hour for a round trip and maybe another hour for what ever he wanted to talk about, I could be back home around noon which should give me just enough time to get changed and make it to the closings. My other option would be to go straight from Howard's to the closings, but then I would have to wear a suit. I looked outside at the warm summer day and didn't like that idea. Our business together was rarely that formal.

"Yeah, I think I have time to stop by. Do you need me to bring anything?"

"No," Howard said, "just something I want to talk about."

Based on our last discussion and the situation I arranged for him, I was hopping he wanted something more elaborate. It probably wouldn't involve me, but it might get me another story afterwards, and the sex Peg and I had had on Saturday night was the best we'd had in a while.

"Okay, I'll be there in half an hour."

"See you then." He hung up.

I was still wearing the boxers and tank top I had slept in, so I changed into a golf shirt and shorts. As I walked outside to my car, I realized it was going to be a hot day with minimal cloud cover. Maybe I would get lucky and Jessica would be sun bathing when I got there.

* * *

Twenty-five minutes later I was pulling up to the mammoth Steller estate on the circle drive that looped in front of the main entrance. Bertha, the elderly maid, met me at the door. "Mr. Steller is out back by the pool." I nodded, unable to contain my hopeful smile.

I knew the way, and the maid left me to take care of her other responsibilities. I walked through the foyer, past the kitchen on my left and the dining room on my right, and down a few steps into a small den that emptied out onto the back patio. The pool glistened in the sunlight, and I was not disappointed.

Jessica was lying on her stomach in a reclined pool chair by the deep end. She had the back tie of the top of her thong bikini undone to avoid tanlines, giving me a nearly complete view of her back side. As I approached I also got a great side view of her breasts as they were smashed into the chair. Her head was turned the other way, so I didn't have to steal glances at her, but I quickly saw Howard sitting at the other end of the pool, watching me approach, so I didn't push my examination of the sunbathing beauty. He was a man of control, and he would decide to what level he was going to share his wife.

I walked the length of the pool toward the shallow end where Howard sat under the shade of an umbrella protruding from the middle of a round glass table with two frosty beers and a folded beach towel. He wore the same type of casual clothes I did. "Okay to drink in the morning?" he asked. Popping the top off of one of the beers and taking a long swig.