PAY4IT-1.TXT
PAYING FOR IT

Another Hot Wife Tale
by J. BOSWELL

I guess I have to start by saying that money is not a
problem in our life. Both Tim, my husband, and I are
professionals and make a very nice living. He's a lean, fit 34
years old, and I'm approaching the BIG 3-0. I have a good face
("incredibly beautiful" according to Tim), and a great (also
according to Tim) body (36C-22-32), 5'4", 112 pounds, auburn hair
and large gray eyes. Two Yuppies, right?
Well, our life WAS just about perfect, and then I (we?)
developed an obsession that made it even better for me (and I
hope better for Tim, too!). What's crazy is that the obsession
really began as a joke.
......
One Thursday night, Tim and I were home watching TV when one
of my girlfriends called. She had stopped for a drink after work
and ran into two of our old classmates from graduate school and
she was calling to invite me to join them for a drink and some
gossip.
I was still dressed from work and hurriedly put my shoes
back on and checked my purse for cash. Of course, my liquid
assets totalled $2.14! I asked Tim for some cash rather than
wasting time stopping at an automatic teller.
Tim smiled and brought out his wallet.
"Wait a minute," he smiled, holding his wallet above his
head, away from my open hand, "How badly do you need this cash?"
"Come on, Tim, I'm in a hurry."
"I can see that, Jessica. Well, I'm in sort of a funny
mood, and I'm thinking maybe you could earn the cash."
I smiled, because he is always THAT horny and THAT obvious.
"Okay, Dear. How about you give me the cash and I owe you a blow
job?"
He leered at me, "How about cash on delivery?"
And that was the first time.
......
All dressed up in heels and a business suit, I dropped to my
knees, opened his zipper and took his already-hard cock into my
mouth. To my surprise, I began feeling warm and tingly, even
slutty. Tim opened the top few buttons on my silk blouse and
pushed the folded bills into my bra, and I became even more
aroused. I gobbled his hard flesh into my mouth, licking and
sucking loudly; feeling my own heat and moistness increasing
between my legs.
Timmy shot his cum into my mouth in a surprisingly short
time and leaned back into the sofa, "Ohhh, Jessie! That was
great!"
I had thoroughly enjoyed the quickie, too, and got even
hotter as he handed me another ten dollar bill and said, "Here,
you really earned a tip."
I took the ten and folded it with the two twenties he had
pushed down my bra, and rebuttoned my blouse.
Tim was zipping up and looked at me, "I think you really
enjoyed being a little whore, didn't you?"
I smiled and brushed the accusation off. "I was just in a
tight spot for some cash, Dear. I was a poor, innocent,
desperate soul and you were the one that took advantage of my
plight and forced me to perform that disgusting and perverted
act!" We both laughed and I kissed Tim goodnight and left for
the bar to meet my friends; but with second thoughts about
grabbing Timmy and dragging him up to bed. For the rest of that
night I could feel a small smile float across my mouth as I
recalled the whole incident.
......
Neither one of us said anything about that incident, but
about two weeks later, I told Tim I needed some cash for
groceries and he asked if I would be willing to earn it.
I smiled and shrugged, "A girl has to eat."
He took me into the bedroom and we balled each other's
brains out for two hours. As I walked around the food store on
wobbly legs, with four crisp fifties in my pocket, I knew I was
"hooked" on our little game.
......
Now, only a few months later, I have to "earn" every cent I
spend, whether for myself or the house -- and I love it. The
opposite is also true -- when Tim wants me, he has to pay for it.
Nothing in life is free, and I get to set my own price -- a
blow-job is at least $40 and I won't fuck for less than a $100.
Like any good businessperson, I know I can charge extra for
the popular options. A little friendly bondage is $40, a strip
is priced like the "Strip-O-Grams" in the area -- $100 for the
strip, and VERY good tips for anything "extra," and if he is
short on cash -- a hand job is $20 ($25 with oil or cream or
jelly!). Cash only! No checks, credit cards or IOUs!
......
Tim is wonderful at thinking up variations on our
lovemaking. One evening, we got in the car after shopping in the
mall and he said, "$100 for a blow-job, right here, right now, in
public." I smiled and put my hand out for the money. In
seconds, I had Tim's seat back, his zipper down, and his cock
out. I started sucking him while bent over the console, but soon
knelt on my seat, knowing anyone who saw me would be certain of
what I was doing. I didn't care -- my panties were soaked
through as Tim shot his cum into my mouth.
Just the thought of me giving him a blow-job on a parking
lot made me feel more like a hooker than ever and I was about as
hot as I had ever been in my life.
As soon as we walked into the house, I dragged Timmy down on
top of me and said, "Oh, Baby! That was so good! I need a fuck,
right now! A freebie!"
Always the gentleman, Tim tipped me $20 when we were
through.
......
One warm Spring night, just as we were at the front door to
leave to get a quick supper at the local casual restaurant, Tim
offered me $50 if I didn't wear any underwear under my top and
short skirt. He handed me the fifty as I handed him my bra and
panties. I should have tried that before, because before we
arrived at the restaurant, Tim told me to finger my clit and my
fingers slipped around in my already dripping-wet cunt.
Tim saw how hot I was and told me that if I really wanted to
earn my money, to order the salad bar. I did, and every time I
walked up to the bar and bent over to reach something to put on
my plate, I could feel my denim skirt ride up the back of my
thighs and felt my tits hang out away from my chest, filling out
my top. The kid keeping the salad bar stocked really got an
eyeful and I LOVED it! In the car I offered Tim a $25 refund if
he'd fuck me right there. He said he was tempted but that there
were too many people, including kids, so he fingered my cunt and
pinched my nipples to a tremendous orgasm for free.
......
Ever onward and upwards we got deeper in our little "game."
Sitting home one night, complaining about the lack of
anything good on TV, Timmy suggested I dress up in something sexy
and go to a bar.
"What about you?" I asked.
"Oh, I'll be there. I'll be right behind you and I can
`pick you up' like a real hooker working the hotel crowd."
I'm sure the big grin on my face told him I loved the idea,
as I rushed upstairs to change.
Less than an hour later, I strutted into a hotel lounge in
my shortest, tightest tube-dress and my highest highheels.
Getting up onto a barstool without flashing everything I had was
a feat in itself!
Like bees to honey, I was soon approached by a parade of
good-looking unattached (at least for the night!) men, buying me
drinks and dancing with me. A few of them invited me to their
place, or up to their room, some even hinting about my
"occupation," saying things like they realized "time was money in
today's world" and that was alright with them.
Tim eventually made his appearance, and when he did, it was
after he had had more than a few drinks. He stepped up to the
bar and placed his hand over my shoulder.
In a voice loud enough to be heard several stools on either
side of us, he asked, "Say, Sweet-Stuff, I've been noticing you,
and I was wondering what a little action with you would cost."
Aware of the audience, I whispered, "Two hundred, for the
night."
Louder than before, Tim gasped, "Two hunnert? Are you
kidding? Plus the room?"
I moved close to his ear and whispered, "Tim, if you don't
get me out of here, right now, I'll fuck you right here on this
bar!"
Tim helped me off the stool, and took a parting shot at our
interested audience, "Lady, for this kind of money, you better be
as good as you look!"
I was pulling him through the lobby when he stopped me and
pointed to the bank of elevators. Dangling on his finger was a
room key!
We hit the button and the doors opened. Tim pushed me into
the corner of the elevator and punched "7" for the floor. I
pulled him against me and kissed him, hard. I was hot, and
wasn't sure I could wait to get to the room!
In a flash, Tim had his tongue buried down my throat and his
hand up under my dress and down my panties, fingering my hard,
wet clit. A man caught the doors before they closed, but we
didn't stop. Instead, I pulled Tim closer and wrapped my leg
around his. The other passenger "Harumphed" but I didn't care --
it was all part of the scene we were playing. When the doors
opened at "7," Tim and I disentangled ourselves and got off the
elevator. As the doors closed, I turned, smiled and said to the
other passenger, "Have a nice night -- we're going to!"
Tim opened the door to the room, and we tumbled onto the
bed. Too hot to undress, Tim unzipped his fly, pulled my skirt
up to my hips, pulled the elastic in my panties aside and entered
me in one hard shove. I started cumming, immediately.
We fucked and sucked almost all night. It was wonderful.
And, I never felt more like a whore than the next morning, as I
walked through the lobby in my tart dress, heels, and
"just-fucked" look. Even a nun would have had no doubts about
what I had been doing all night!
......
I had been accumulating a tidy sum in my "Honey" jar, and
decided to splurge on myself, the way any self-respecting hooker
would -- on clothes, jewelry, and make-up. I spent the day
buying the most outrageous items I could find -- micro skirts,
seamed stockings, crotchless panties, red-red lipstick, cut-out
bras, and on and on. I had a ball!
After dinner that night, I decided to give a fashion show to
Timmy, and surprise him with my wildest "streetwalker" outfit. I
put on heavy make-up, red crotchless panties, a black corset top,
stockings, garterbelt, red heels and a red vinyl skirt not quite
long enough to reach my stocking-tops. For the crowning touch, I
put on a wild, cheap blonde wig and spiked the tresses.
Tim went absolutely crazy! Only, instead of throwing me
down on the floor, or chasing me up to the bedroom, he suggested
we go for a ride!
The ride wasn't very far -- only downtown, stopping around
the corner from Calvert Street, a street notorious for cheap
streetwalkers. By the time Tim had pulled to the curb, I knew
what he wanted me to do -- and I was game!
I got out of the car and Tim pulled around the corner.
Then, after making sure my seams were straight, I strutted around
the corner and into the glow of the street lamps. Tim was parked
across the street, and I saw two other women (dressed pretty much
like I was!) standing about a half a block up the street. There
were no pedestrians, and the traffic was light, but steady. I
was breathing rapidly -- partly from excitement, and not a little
from apprehension. I felt very alone standing there.
I soon noticed the same red Firebird pass me, twice, and
then for the third time. On the fourth time, he stopped and
leaned over the passenger seat, "Hey, sexy lady! Looking for a
ride somewhere?"
I stepped over to the car and bent over at the waist, giving
the driver a full view of my almost-naked tits, "Maybe. Where
you headed?"
He had to pull his tongue back in, before he could answer.
We chatted a little, and I promised him I'd be around later, but
was waiting for a particular somebody at the moment. He waved
and drove off.
After going through the same routine with two more drivers,
Tim coasted to a stop beside me.
"Want to party?"
I was glad it was him. My fear had gone away and the
excitement had taken over as the night went on. I gave him the
same tit-shot I had given the rest of the guys. "Maybe. Are you
a party-er?"
He smiled at me, "I'm a very generous party-er."
"How generous?" I asked.
"Well, if you'll speak a little French -- fifty."
I opened the car door and got in, "French is my favorite
language."
Tim drove to a nearby city park and stopped the car on one
of the lanes. He pushed his seat back and opened his zipper.
I held my hand out -- palm up, and he handed me a fifty. I
folded it and opened my purse. I dropped the money in and took
out a condom I had put in there before we left home. Tim raised
an eyebrow.
"A girl can't take chances out here," I said, matter of
factly. He nodded and I wrapped his hard, little rascal in the
rubber. He watched as I popped the wad of chewing gum out of my
mouth, and stored it in my cleavage. I lowered my mouth down on
his sheathed erection and had barely gotten the rubber wet before
Tim tensed in his seat and began filling the condom with his cum.
I could tell he had really gotten off on the whole scene.
Still in character, I carefully removed the condom and tied
it in a neat knot and tossed it out the window. I smiled a
lipstick-smeared smile at him. "You were really hot. I enjoyed
that. Now, could you take me back to my corner?"
Just then, a police car's blue flashing lights lit up the
back window.
Caught!
I could tell from Tim's posture, that he was as nervous as I
was. Two officers got out and one stepped up to the driver's
window and shined his flashlight in at us. Fortunately, Timmy
had already zipped up.
"What's wrong, Officer?"
"Don't play dumb. I hate it when people play dumb. What
were you doing here, discussing the savings and loan crisis?"
"Officer, my wife and I were..."
The cop roared out a huge laugh and looked in the window,
again. His light was shining on my bare thighs, above my
stockings. I was afraid my crotchless panties were showing him
everything!
"Your WIFE??!! Yo, JD, he says this `lady' is his wife!!!"
At their request, we got out of the car and produced enough
ID to prove that we were married and the cop did a cursory check
in the car. The other cop approached and walked around my side
of the car. The freshly-filled condom was revealed to his light
and he nudged it with his shoe.
He stooped down to my eyelevel, and looked right into my
eyes, "Do you prefer the dry, ribbed or lubed, Honey?"
I looked right back at him and smiled, "Well, the lubed make
a long night a little easier, once you get used to the taste."
I was standing with my back to Tim and the other policeman,
and the one standing in front of me, casually reached into my
cleavage and retrieved my chewing gum.
I smiled and lowered my mouth over his fingers, flicking the
gum into my mouth with my tongue. "Thanks, Officer, I thought I
lost it."
He licked his fingers slowly, and stared at my cleavage.
"You know, Miss, these streets can be dangerous. You never know
who you're gonna meet. You should stick to indoors. If you're
new to town, there's places like `The Raven Pub' in the Poe
Hotel. You're a little, uh, flashy for the nice bars, but `The
Raven's' seen your type there."
"Gee, thanks for the career advice, Officer!" I smiled my
widest smile up at him. His nameplate read: J.D. MURPHY.
"Don't be so smart-mouth, girlie. You never know when
you'll need a good cop."
They finally decided to let us go, after everything checked
out. Officer J.D. Murphy smiled and said, "I'll be looking for
you, Miss Lube-Tube. You can bet I'll be keeping an eye out for
you and your pimp-husband, here."
Being accosted by the policemen had rattled Timmy, but the
action had only taken me to another level in excitement. As Tim
sped us home, I inserted three fingers through the opening in my
panties and deep into my sopping wet pussy. I began a moaning,
total orgasm after only a few flicks of my thumb across my erect
clit.
At home, Tim tried valiantly, but the policemen had taken
the wind out of his sails, and the starch out of his cock. He
could only watch as I pleasured myself with my vibrator, pushing
it through my panties and up inside of me. I fell asleep
exhausted and with the vibrator still in my hand.
......
Over the next few days, Tim regained his old enthusiasm, and
at my urging, we discussed other scenarios. My passion obviously
increased as the situation became more and more realistic; and,
there definitely was a little kink running around inside my brain
that took me into uninhibited, orgasmic pleasure -- the more I
behaved and was believed to be a whore, the more intense the
pleasure.
Talking about the various types of hookers, from the
high-priced callgirl to the cheapest streetwalker, we began to
investigate alternatives to what we had already tried.
The weekly, local free paper was a good source of
information, judging by their "Personals" in the back of the
paper. They advertised everything from "escorts" to
"strip-o-grams" to "trained masseuse" to, simply, "young WF,
seeking GENEROUS man for fun w/o commitment." Another avenue of
investigation were the "date-line, `976-'" numbers.
Tim asked me which one I wanted to try, and I smiled and
told him "all of them!"
......
Unfortunately, before we had a chance to live out any more
of my fantasies, Tim was selected to go on a West Coast tour with
one of the company Directors. The trip would be part
fact-finding and part pep rally, and Tim and I were both excited
about what his being chosen would mean for his career. On the
downside, was the fact that Timmy would be away three weeks.
When I dropped him at the airport on Sunday, we knew we
wouldn't see each other, again, until the third Saturday -- by
far, the longest we had been separated since we had met.
By the second week, I was really missing the fun Timmy and I
had been having over the last several months. A few quick
phonecalls during the day sure wasn't the same as having Tim
there. Several nights, I even dressed in parts of my costumes
and played with my vibrator, but I missed my "John" too much for
it to be fun.
Finally, on the second Wednesday night, I put on my make-up
a little heavy, dressed in a tight denim skirt, red high heels
and blouse and stockings and went for a ride. I drove to a mall,
but didn't have the nerve to get out of the car in such a
suburban setting. So, I put the car in gear and headed downtown.
It was a warm night and I drove around the Inner Harbor, looking
at all the tourists. Feeling bored and lonely, I decided to call
it a night.
On the way home, I was stopped at a light and realized I was
looking right at the Poe Hotel!
This was the place Officer J.D. Murphy told me the hookers
worked! On impulse, I pulled over to the curb and sat across the
street from the entrance. All types of people were going in and
coming out, dressed from jeans and t-shirts to three-piece suits
and evening dresses.
Not quite sure about what I wanted to do, I drove around the
block and found a parking place. I checked my make-up in the
mirror and got out of the car.
The entrance to the "Raven Pub" was off the lobby and I
could hear the music and talking and glasses clinking before I
pulled the door open.
=====================
TO BE CONTINUED...

..............................
(C) J. BOSWELL, September 1991
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� � EROTICA � �
� �from the collection of � �
� � J. BOSWELL � �
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