Wife for Sale

Wife For Sale

Claire is not for sale. I wanted to make it perfectly clear. There is no amount of money that would entice me to sell the sexual services of my legally married wife, the mother of my children, and my partner in life. Okay, really? Granted, she is incredibly hot, desired by most of the men I know, and capable of unbelievably memorable sex, and as good to look at as a million dollar work of art displayed at the Louvre.

Okay, I was selfish. It was not so much that I wanted her all to myself, but I did. However, I didn't want her cheapened by putting her on the barrel head and selling her services like a slab of meat or a piece of lawn furniture. Claire is a person not a commodity; a woman, a mother, a housewife, a social worker, not a skilled craftsman selling her intimate talents like a carpenter or shoemaker.

True, I didn't own her, and she can make up her own mind about what she does with her body, but my vote is she simply is not for sale, for any amount of money. "But we would be out of debt perhaps forever," she argued, holding the letter that had come making the offer. "One million dollars for a three-day weekend with your wife. No rules, no limitations, no conditions. Bonuses possible.

Didn't I promise to love, honor, and cherish her through sickness and health, for richer or poorer? I don't remember the unless richer comes doing something I object to. Didn't I promise to stick by her, no matter what?

"It could be like social work, like babysitting," Claire argued. "It would be like a service to the community. He would be paying me for something I do well. Don't you think I do it well? Don't you say that? That I am the best fuck you've ever had? Don't we think sex is not Immoral?"

"I won't say you can't," I said, "of course. The decision is yours. You are in charge of your body. My vote is you don't do it, but we do need the money, and what you do is up to you," I said.

"Then I would like to consider it," she said. "At least think about it. It's only a weekend, and it is only sex," she said.

"But it is illegal," I said.

"Not if I didn't solicit it," she said. "I checked. He can give me any size gift he wants. It is illegal to charge for sex, but I would not be charging. He would just be rewarding me for a job well done. You keep saying sex with me is worth a million bucks. This guy is putting his money where his dick is"

I could not say I wouldn't allow her to. I didn't have that kind of power. If she chose to take up the offer, I would have to cope with it. I don't put demands on her.

She is right. That much money would make our lives much, much easier. We could get out of this tiny, rundown house crammed in the middle of a neighborhood where you hear your neighbor's toilet flush. You hear their sex, their fights, and their political opinions. Their sex I can stand, but their fights and their dumbass opinions I can't handle. You hear that they think Trump is the second coming of Gandhi. Who wants to listen to that?

I do believe prostitution should be legal, since it is just just a transaction between two or more individuals having to do with what they do with their bodies. It is their business who or what they do with their own physical being, and I don't look down on people who work in the sex trade. I really don't, or am I kidding myself?

So why would I be against my wife being paid for sex? I wouldn't be against her having sex with someone she desired, so why am I against her accepting this offer? I can't explain it, so that usually means the reasoning is flawed. We don't even know who made her the offer, it just came in the mail. It is not her having sex with someone else I am against, but offering to buy it raised my hackles.

I am pretty sure, with all our financial troubles, that she will accept the offer, take the money, and spend the weekend having sex with a rich secret suitor. I started to wonder how we were going to handle the logistics. Would I give in, take her there and be with her for safety?

So one night I sat down with her and told her I would go along with her decision, drive her there, and tell the customer I would have to be there while she was with him, or at least at the hotel where she was for her safety. I said that would be my only requirement.

"Would that be okay with you?" I asked.

"Of course it would," she said. "I would just be getting us out of debt, not training for a new career. I appreciate you making the effort to support me in something you disagree with," she said. "I love you for it."

"And it isn't because I am against you having sex with someone else," I said. "Sex is not the issue, so I can handle it because you want to do it."

"And I have to be honest with you," she said. "There is an element of excitement involved, even if I try to dismiss it. Honestly, it is there," she said with a shy smile.

She returned the solicitation to an email address included with the offer that came originally in the regular mail. Almost instantly an answer appeared in our email inbox saying, "Glad you agreed to accept the offer. An account will be setup in your name and as soon as our weekend has concluded the money will be transferred to your account. An account guarantee will be sent to you to sign so you'll know the offer is good."

It also said that an appointment will be set up for a physical examination and a copy of a similar form will be sent to you so you will know you will be medically safe. We received the clearances and the physical examination papers with a Dr. Donna Walker, but there were three clearance forms not just one: subjects A, B, and C.

Claire went to Dr. Walker, had the checkup, and returned the forms to the address we were given. She received a notice from a bank that an account had been opened in her name. A day later we received an email that gave us the name of a hotel, a reservation for two rooms, and directions to the hotel and a date and time to arrive.

It said to register under the name of Ms. Claire Johnson and she would be sent to room 244. I was to register under T. Johnson and I would be sent to room 243. We were to arrive on Friday, June 12th, and the weekend would end that Sunday at five in the afternoon.

I drove to the hotel on Friday and it was clear Claire was as excited as a new bride on her honeymoon night. I kissed her and she went to the front desk. I watched from across the room and after a few minutes they gave her a key and a bellhop took her small bag. I waited until she had gone, then I went to the front desk and registered under the name suggested.

We both had our phones and she was to call me if she decided to back out or had a problem with arrangement. I went up to my room and settled in. Claire left her phone so I could listen and I put mine on the arm of sofa and turned on the television and watched a game and listened with one ear.

I thought I could hear a number of voices, but Claire did not sound alarmed, nor did she use our safe word, butterfly, so I relaxed and just listened and watched the game. It got quiet and I imagined they were having sex. I had pretty much come to grips with that, so by then I was fine with the arrangement, but the many voices, two of which sounded like women. Claire was obviously one of them, but I wondered about the other.

The weekend went by slowly, but she had agreed to tell me all about it, so I was eager to hear what happened, the sexy details, and what the dynamics were.

On Sunday, at the agreed time, I listened at the door for her to leave the room, then joined her in the hall at the elevator. "Was it worth a million dollars?" I asked.

"For them, of course," she said.

"Them?" I said.

"Yeah, it was a man and horny bi wife," Claire said with a smile. "Most of my time was with her and he watched. "A couple of times it was the two of them, but he was older than her by about twenty and he couldn't last long. Actually, I enjoyed being with her. I was surprised by my own bi pleasure, but it was actually a very pleasant weekend.

"We agreed to make it a regular thing every six months, and they'll pay me just like before," she said. "Fifty thousand for one night twice a year." She smiled. "It will only be with Carly. He will watch. They also said you could watch too, if you wanted," she said.

"Well, tell me all about it," I said as I drove home.

"I never realized I had a bi gene," she said with a laugh, "but when they told me what they wanted I thought it would just be earning a payday. I found out I really liked bi sex. I think it is true that nobody knows how to eat pussy better than the owner of one," she said, grinning.

"I even discovered I love doing it," she said. Claire grinned. "I found I really love the taste of pussy," she said smiling. "And getting paid for it is like winning the lottery."

I asked her again to tell me what happened, what the husband was like, and just how it went. "Tell me everything," I said eagerly.

"Well, after I left you I knocked on the door and Carly opened it and asked me to come in," my wife said. "We chatted like I was there for a PTA meeting or a sewing party. She introduced me to her husband, Peter. She said he liked to watch, and he would be there the whole weekend. I was okay with that, especially for so much money," Claire said. "My exhibitionist side had no problem with him watching."

"So you and her went at it?" I asked.

"She undressed me in front of a big, full length mirror," she said. "She put her hands all over my body, then she started taking off my clothes, one piece at a time. She started with my skirt, then slipped off my panties and let them fall to the floor. She took my blouse off and lifted my bra off my shoulders. She pinched each nipple and sucked on them one at a time.

"Since I was there to service her, once I was nude, she got on the bed on her back and opened her legs for me. I wanted to feel her lips on me and she promised to return the favor later, but I put my lips against her pussy and let nature take its coarse. I must have eaten her for half an hour and she came three times. I guess I must have been good because she came hard and her orgasms were intense.

"We rested and then we changed position and she went at it like a real pro, sucking my pussy, licking the lips, and kissing my clitoris. Getting paid to have your pussy eaten is a pleasure I could only dream of before now," she said.

"Well, Peter just sat and watched us. Occasionally he watched television, usually just the news, but mostly he just watched us. He said porn was his passion, but watching his wife was his favorite thing to do, especially with another woman," she said with a look of pride.

"She really knows how to eat pussy, I guess it's like her hobby," Claire said. "They do this high priced sexual arrangement to make sure Carly is safe, since they have the money and they don't spend much on other things. They have had a few other people they've hired for her, and if they like you they keep you on," she said. "I guess they like me. They're keeping me on," she added.

"After I did her she gave as good as I have ever gotten. Sorry to say that, but it is true," she said. "She is a gifted pussy eater. Just think, I was getting paid to be pleasured.

"At one point Peter got undressed and into bed with us. He wanted to fuck me while Carly sucked on my nipples and kissed me. He wanted to watch the sensual kisses as he fucked me." She sighed, thinking back to the feeling of having a cock in her pussy and lips and a tongue on her nipples. She told me she had never had an orgasm like that. "It was more intense than anything I have ever had," she said with a wistful sigh.

"I nearly passed out," she said.

"His cock is fairly large and she sucks like a vacuum cleaner," she said. "They asked if you would be willing to take part with me. They'd pay you to come. No pun intended," she said smiling. "You'd fuck her while I did other things, and you'd just have to be able to last and get it hard enough to satisfy her. I am sure you could," she told me. "You are very good at fucking," she said.

I hadn't even thought about it. I had been focussed on her being paid to fuck and whether that was acceptable, whether doing it cheapened her and made sex less moral and decent, but after she'd done it I changed my mind. It had eliminated much of our debt, that was true, and I did not feel disrespect for sex workers as a group. So why did I object at first? I am not completely sure.

"Would you consider coming with me, fucking her for money?" Claire asked me.

"Would you want me to?" I asked. She smiled and said she thought I'd enjoy it, after all, she had.

"The money certainly is a plus, but it is fun, and they'd want you to get a medical exam," she said. "But it is fun. Really, I enjoyed it immensely," she said.

"So, you'd recommend it?" I asked.

"I do think you'd enjoy it," she said. "It could be like a sexual adventure for us as a couple," she said. "The money is great, but the sex is exciting and it adds a dimension not often experienced. It would something for us to do it together as a couple. I loved it," she said.

"Then I will," I said. "What do we do?"

"We email them that you will," she said. "They'll send you the forms for Dr. Walker, you see her, then they will set up the date for us to meet with them," she said, "and we have sex and get paid."

"Sounds easy," I said.

"Easy as falling off a bed," she said with a grin. "Easy as fucking for dollars. Like a game show."

I wrote the email, got a quick reply, and then made my appointment with Dr. Walker. My results were good and I sent the completed results to Carly and Peter. A day later we got a date for one day and a night, including dinner at the Marriott near the airport.

We were to meet them in the restaurant at five, have dinner, go to our room and fuck like minks until Sunday afternoon at five. We arrived at the time suggested and went to the restaurant. Carly and Peter were sitting at a table in the back.

"We hoped you'd accept the offer," Peter said to me.

"Claire encouraged me," I said.

"I hope you're not disappointed," he said.

"I hope you're not," I said. "I want it to be worth it for you."

"We won't be disappointed," he said. "We had you investigated. We had your pictures, people's reactions to you, and a psychological profile done," he said. "We know we won't be disappointed. If we are going to do business with you, we want to make sure. We are," he said.

After dinner they asked us to meet them in room 213. They didn't want us seen going up together, so they went up first. After fifteen minutes they told us to come up to the room.

They had picked a different hotel for many reasons. One, they wanted a change; and two, they didn't want hotel staff seeing too much of a route. They were fairly confident about the legal issues, but Peter and Carly didn't want to take any chances.

We knocked at the door of room 213 at 5:00 pm as suggested and Carly opened the door and stood smiling, like a girl about to be given a birthday party.

"Come in," she said. "The party is about to start."

She was wearing a short, pale blue night gown with bare feet. Her smile said she was ready for sex and her husband was eager for the show to start as well. He sat in a high-backed chair and stood to greet us.

"My wife is excited to get started," he said. "Her previous times with you have been extremely memorable. You give very good head," he said with a smile. "I am grateful to people who can give her pleasure," he said.

"Yes, I know," Claire said, "I am very grateful. We appreciate how grateful you have been."

"Why don't the two of you show her some attention," Peter said.

Claire moved over and kissed her, removed her blouse, and helped her out of her skirt. When it was on the floor at her feet, Claire slipped her panties down her legs and she stepped out of them. Carly was extremely sexy nude; tall and shapely and very beautiful.

Claire reached between Carly's legs and inserted a finger between her wet, puffy labia, curling it up to find her G-spot. Carly moaned and leaned against my wife's hand, pushing her hips forward, opening her thighs wider to accommodate Claire's efforts.

Carly came with a roar and her legs tightened and her fists clenched. As she cried out a stream of fluid shot from her pussy and soaked the sheets.

"Oh, God," Carly finally gasped. "I have never done that," she wheezed with a wondrous smile. "Where did you ever learn that?" she asked.

"In my bed," Claire said, "at the hands of my wonderful husband."

"I will have to have him teach me some things too," Carly said with a shy smile. "Do you like cowgirl?" she asked me almost shyly. The tone surprised me since what we were there to do. There was a little girl innocence I had not expected.

We rested and chatted like friends at a picnic, then she finally stood up and went straight to the bed, motioning me over. She directed me to get on my back, which I did, then she climbed over me, swinging one leg over my hips, leaving the other on my right, straddling me like a bronco rider, sitting up over me.

She began to bounce slowly, gradually picking up the pace, pushing my cock up into her. Claire took the initiative, climbed up over my head, facing Carly. She then leaned forward and put her lips to Carly's. As I fucked her my wife knelt above my lips, allowing me to eat her while I fuck her friend and at the same time the two women kissed, passionately and with an energy that inspired me.

It was a classic threesome: two women and one man engaged in sexual bliss, celebrating one another while being fucked and eaten by one man. I had the privilege to be that man, and I will never forget it as long as I live.

We finished the session with a duel eating of Carly by Claire and me as she stretched out on the bed with her head on the pillow and her knees up, her legs spread, and her feet wide apart.

Claire was beside me on the bed between Carly's legs and we both were servicing her pussy one at a time, alternating between kissing her lovely wet petals and licking and sucking them. At one point we were both licking along each side of her labia at the same time. She must have liked it because when she came it was a memorable one.

She put a hand on each of our heads and pulled us each against her pussy. Peter smiled and took some pictures as she came with each of us stretched out between her thighs.

She pushed our faces away from her pussy as it became too sensitive to be touched, and I kissed her inner thighs and Claire licked the lotion off her upper leg.

Afterward Peter showed us the pictures he'd taken on his digital camera and sent copies to our phones.

Our business with Peter and Carly lasted three years, and then they moved to Paris and employed a few more paramours for her there in France. They told us when they returned, if they came back to the west coast they would contact us and continue employing us.

However, we have also been hired by other couples for similar work. Yes, at first I did object to going pro, but eventually I came around and it has worked out to be pleasant and profitable.

Mostly we work for men who want to see their wife fucked and fucked well. On three occasions we were hired by single women who wanted sex with another woman or to watch, in one case, to watch two people, a man and woman, fuck each other.

Since first "working" for Peter and Carly, we have traveled to Europe, bought two cars, a house, and a boat we keep in the Caribbean and fly down to use each summer. Not bad work if you can get it, and we've been able to put some away for retirement. Making money by having sex is perhaps the oldest profession, but it also is not a bad way to make a living.