Wife wife used to be an actual prostitute

AxelP

Couple
Gold
We have had long talks many times about her old days and I always told her I find the idea that she was a real life whore to be very titillating and turns me on to no end.

I met her after she retired but we have had many fantasies about me meeting her when she was working. She told me once that she would consider doing it for me so I could experience her being a bone-fide real money for sex whore.

Well she did....
It was late one evening and I received a call on my cell. It was my wife telling me to be at the Park Hotel in Amsterdam at 5:30 no later. “I’m going to be a whore tonight.” She told me to see the desk clerk and there would be an envelope in my name.

I did arrive on time at the Park. She was at the bar talking to a man. He was obviously a traveler. A little pudgy British of some kind, maybe English, losing hair but looked fairly well to do and had a wedding ring.

They were deep in animated discussions and I watched them have 2-3 drinks. I did stop at the desk and she had an envelope with a note waiting for me. It said she loved me and hoped I will enjoy what is to come. There was number on a sticky note attached to a cardkey.

I was watching her talk with him and every now and then she would touch in arm as if to emphasize a point she was making. I love looking at my wife. Her delicate blend of at least 3 Asian ethnicity, Filipina in there somewhere, Chinese certainly, perhaps some Malay, but her French father contributed a worthwhile bit to the mix. she is truly the stuff of a million of men’s Asian fantasies. She has this silken black hair that spills over her shoulders and back like an oil slick. Her body is very shapely with the perfect feminine figure wrapped in glowing bronzed skin. Her almond eyes are deep and dark like the mystery of life is contained within if you are brave enough to explore. It was perhaps 45 minutes of watching them when she gathered her bag, stood up. The guy stood next her towering over her petite but shapely figure. He signed the bar bill and off went my lover with this strange man.
 
I saw them from the door enter the elevator and a moment later the lift stopped. The lift stopped on 3, I hit the stairs and made it just in time to see the door to 323 close and snap shut. The cardkey indeed said 323

It was tough just sitting there waiting not seeing, not really knowing. Maybe they were playing cards up there, I had no idea. I waited. My imagination was in overdrive trying to picture the scene in the room. My darling Liz, the woman I am completely in love with, currently in a hotel room with a stranger.

I tried to picture her removing her clothing for him. She was wearing a pretty standard bankers suit, shorter though than most revealing more leg than is usually seen in the bank. She had on dark tan hose and heels. The heels making her muscular legs even shapelier. I tried to imagine the man’s face when he undid her top, dropped her bra and gazed at her lusciously suck-able dark chocolate Asian nipples. Would he be shy or would he take one in his mouth immediately?

How would he react when she removed more clothing revealing her golden skin and tight muscular body? Would he touch her right away? Would his hand go between her legs and feel her smooth sex, certainly wet with desire by this time.

Then how would she undress him? Is his cock large or small? Would she be happy with it? Does she want a large one to fill her totally, or since she doesn’t know the man, prefer a smaller one she can tune out of her mind only offering her cunt as a means for him to masturbate into?

Would be please her? Would he lick her delicate pussy lips and tease her with the head or just cram his cock into her and pump until he ejaculates inside her? Her lips, the lips that I have kissed so many times, her soft yielding lips that communicate our passion - are they right now wrapped around this strangers dick? Are they massaging him and milking out this strange mans sperm as I sit here?

I knew none of the answers but imagined all of them. It was a long hour, and then 1:10 then 1:20. The hand on my watch seemed to be broken it was moving so slowly. Then I saw the man suddenly at the bar again. He was carrying his jacket and not wearing his tie. He sat at the bar and I looked at him, this man who just enjoyed my lover, this man who just used the pussy that

I loved so much as a receptacle for relief, not knowing the woman he just entered and used. She was nothing to him but a means for release, for short-term pleasure, this woman I loved. She did not appear after he did. She was waiting for me in the room.
 
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I paid for my drink and went to the lift. I was nervous at what I might discover when I arrived at the room. I opened the door slowly. There was no one on the outer sitting room but on the sofa I saw my wife’s clothing neatly folded. The bedroom door was cracked open.

I pushed it enough for me to see into. Liz was on the bed, laying her side. Her head was resting on the pillow with her long jet-black hair spilling on the pillowcase like a flow of wet black ink. I couldn't see her face, but her chestnut skin was slightly flushed. I knew it was from sexual pleasure - I had seen it before so many times as I held my wife after making love with her.

She knew I was there and turned to me. Her body naked and used faced me. Her nipples were as hard as granite chips. Her trimmed pubic hair puffed up and disturbed. She looked at me with those deep almond eyes but said nothing. I looked at her knowing the answers to all my questions were contained in that gaze but also so much more.

I went to her and touched her belly. Her body was hot, almost radiating heat. She shifted to face upwards and her legs parted. Between them were more of the answers I was seeking. Her graceful labia were extended outwards in the unmistakable position of having been violated.

Between them I noticed a glint of moisture - not her own satin wetness but thicker and opaque, shining in the weak light. It was his sign, his creamy residue, his gift to us.

Liz looked at me intensely. She said, "He told me he had never been with a prostitute before." I didn’t respond. She paused. "I knew he was safe, so I let him." she continued.

I was still silent.

"It felt good. I liked it.”, she whispered.

Without another word I leaned to her and kissed her.

"I did everything for him.” she said faintly so I could barely hear her. That was her message to me that as I kissed those loving lips I should know that they too had been violated and despoiled. I kissed her harder.

She rose up and put her hand on my chest and pushed me down. She felt me and knew that I was aroused. It could not be hidden, not be denied.

It like I was in a dream, fuzzy and uncertain almost amorphous as my clothing disappeared over the side of the bed.
 
I was naked. She kissed me and said "I did this for him." Her mouth enveloped my hardness. Her long black hair obscured her face and what she was doing. Her hair flowed in slow motion following her movements. I couldn't see but didn't have to. My release came too quickly. She controlled me, allowing me only partial satisfaction.

"I tasted him and stopped him also like this." she said breathlessly.

I was on my back and her body moved up mine like a tigress slinking through the grass in search of prey.

I barely felt her as she pulled me into her, just an intense warm slick sensation surrounding me. I almost imagined I could feel the man’s sperm swimming around me investigating this intruder to their domain. Her movements began slowly then built. "I did him this way my darling. He lasted longer than I expected."

The more she moved the more sensation asserted around me. I felt muscular striations moving and massaging me. I felt her lips drag then slip over my head then back down. She took me all the way, still pressing to get further. "He was thicker than you, but not as long. That’s why I feel loose."

But she didn't feel loose. As she moved she tightened around me.

She leaned down to me and whispered in my ear. "He loved my nipples and sucked them when I
did this to him."

I followed my predecessor’s example. Her nipples felt like they could slice flesh. My lovers breathing increased. Her motions were more animated by the second. Her pussy was alive with movements. Her hips went faster and faster.

She yelled "Shoot your cum in me. I am a whore; I am your whore, fuck me, use me, fill me with sperm. I fucked another tonight and I am full of his cum. Mix yours with his as only a true whore deserves." then, "I love you."

She screamed. I felt my spine turning to liquid, flowing into her like a river current. She pressed against me violently as she came and her pussy muscles had a mind of their own, squeezing and kneading my hardness as if milking my sperm into her.

She didn't go slick and loose but seemed to get tighter still. Her insides absorbing my seed, sucking up my semen like a sponge, displacing the other and asserting my love for her.
She finally collapsed on me. We were both spent.
 
For a long time we lay there with her on top of me. I was still inside her even though I had softened. I thought for a moment she fell asleep, but she kissed my neck, then I nibbled her ear.
She rolled to my side and held me close until her breathing settled. "You know that I have had a
lot of men in my life."

"Yes.", I responded.

"I have had sex thousands of times." she added.

"I know." I said.

"I've been made love to by many, fucked by even more and merely used way too many times by way too many men." She told me softly.

I felt her tears on my shoulder. I kissed them, kissed her eyes and kissed her lips. "I love you."

With a serious tone, "I have never ever felt anything like the love you have just given me. I will love you to my last breath."

Then the serious moment passed. She leaped up smiled and said, "Lets go home darling, I’m hungry."

We dressed and on the way out she held up a wad of cash. "Not bad for 90 minutes of fun."

"Not to mention the aftermath. "I told her. She laughed.

As we passed the bar she paused and looked into the room. The guy was still there. She took my hand and led me to the bar. She tapped his shoulder and as he turned she said. "Jim, this is my husband. We both want to thank you for a great time."

She dropped the cash right in front of him on the bar. He looked at me with a puzzled expression. The man he was with looked mystified. Liz pecked him on the cheek and said, "I’m not really a prostitute anymore, I’m just a whore. See you around.”

We left.

When we got home is another story!