The Hotwife Hooker by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0000000000000
Published: 2021-10-31T09:44:20+00:00

Chapter 7

Jennifer

It felt as though Mercedes was still between my thighs as we drove home. At one point, I held my hands between my legs and squeezed, trying to relive the experience.

“How are you doing, babe?” Gabe asked, putting his hand on my thigh.

“I’m doing really great,” I said not wanting him to interrupt. It was hopeless I knew. Gabe was going to talk, and I couldn’t just shut up and savor the experience.

God, I’d had sex with a hooker! And we’d paid her! I was so conflicted about what I’d done. She was so good; no person had ever gone down on me like she had. She knew every button to push. My orgasm might have been the best I’d ever experienced with another person. I could still feel her; my pussy was having spasms.

But she was a hooker. She was paid to have sex with other people. A prostitute. I’d paid for sex.

“It looked like you really enjoyed what she was doing to you,” Gabe said.

‘Shut up, shut up, shut up.’ I didn’t say it, but I thought it. Instead I just sat quietly.

“I suppose,” was all I could manage.

“Do you want to do even more with her? We can set it up,” Gabe asked.

“I’m okay, honey,” I answered. “Let’s talk about something else.”

We dropped the subject until the next morning at breakfast.

I hadn’t slept well thinking about what had happened and anticipating the next night. Was I a lesbian now, or at least bi-sexual? What did it mean that I had enjoyed sex with another woman? It had been wonderful, I’d enjoyed what she did as much as I’d enjoyed any man going down on me. It was the first time I could truly say that sex with another person had been way better than masturbation. What a sick thing.

My husband loved me, and I loved him with all my heart. He’d always been a good lover. Even if he hadn’t always brought me to climax, I loved the feel of him, I love the closeness and the intimacy. Sex wasn’t just about orgasms, was it? If it was, I was going to be a Mercedes regular.

Gabe was up before me. I could hear him moving around as I thought about what had happened and what we were planning to do. The whole thing seemed tawdry now, even though it had been my idea at the beginning.

“I’m going to need to get ready for tonight,” I said, “Do you want to help me pick out what I’ll wear?” I was pushing my doubts down, deep down inside.

We piled clothing on the bed, and I tried on everything we couldn’t immediately throw out. It was fun modeling clothing for Gabe. He wanted me to look sexy and available. He also wanted to be able to get at my pussy and my boobs without going through a lot of work.

“Why do you want to make it so easy. I’m not going to be actually hooking, you know,” I protested.

“I

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