Hot Tub Wife Pimpin by 1843
Dive into “Hot Tub Wife Pimpin,” a sizzling adult erotic tale that explores desire, temptation, and the allure of forbidden encounters. Join the adventure as passion ignites and boundaries are pushed in a steamy hot tub setting. Indulge your fantasies and discover the thrilling dynamics of pleasure and seduction. Don’t miss this enticing story that will leave you craving more!
I get in over my head with my debts and in order to try and keep my business afloat I hope to get some extra work from a competitor by taking him out for dinner with my wife. Unfortunately, she gets a little too drunk and rude and things seem like they’re going to end early, but instead he has his eyes on her and I’m not sure I like where this is going and yet I don’t see any other options…
I got in over my head with bills for my autoparts store. It’s usually small parts replacement, but if you’ve taken a look at our economy lately, you don’t need me to explain why things are tough. We also have a garage on the side which usually makes enough to float us for a while. It wasn’t now. We had two mechanics working in the garage full time, Diego and Lester and their salaries were depending on business picking up. I was going to lose the shop unless I found some new contracts immediately that could extend us some more time.
I knew another local business who had in the past, on occassion, offered some work and thought maybe I could hit them up for some work or maybe even a loan. I knew the owner Neal in passing. Bit of a blowhard, but driven and successful. More than me at least.
My wife Karen, 5’9″ brunette c-cup weighing a good 150lbs with hips ass and things. She was never a big fan of the shop and the financial strain it put on us from the start, but she loves me and knew that the shop was part of me. So she helped out when she could, after her regular full time hours as a head receptionist in a doctors office. Most of the time she was working at the shop, that just meant watching tv or being on her phone behind the front counter while I worked in the back, or hanging out with Diego and distracting him from his work because she was bored, or coming with me to trade shows, which were a real timesuck for her. That’s how she knew Neal, from the three or four shows we would do each year. Our booth would be modest, while his would be extravagant. Neither of us liked him. He would always hire tacky bikini models and give away big prizes and at the end of each show he would stop by and chat and always make a joke about me getting Karen in a bikini to help improve sales or coming to be a model at his booth next year. It was all played as fun and jokes but it was also letcherous. It never looked like he could have made as much money as he spent, but it must work for him because that’s who we were going to.
We invited him to dinner at a restaraunt where we all had wine and I try to butter him up. My wife doesn’t like guys like him, but she knew this was important so she stayed quiet at first. She knew things hadn’t been great over the last six months, but she didn’t know how bad things were at that moment.
The dinner starts fine enough and everybody was polite but after a few glasses of wine, Karen began making it a little obvious how little she thinks of pretty much anything Neal said. I guess I didn’t realise how boring it would be for my wife to have to sit and listen to shop talk for a couple hours or how many glasses of wine she would get through, but it was clear Karen was sauced.
When my wife gets drunk, she gets further and further away from reality. At first she just isn’t aware of what she is saying which often comes across as rude statements, or not laughing at his jokes which did typically tend to be mysogenistic. She would roll her eyes at things he would say. It was all too honest obviously. I knew how she could get at a certain point, where she has no idea what’s going on and I was grateful she wasn’t there. At least not yet. Still, it was very embarrassing and not really going the way I’d hoped.
Neal had a way of constantly bragging about himself casually in conversation, how much money he was making or what kind of man he was; a man who took what he wanted, a man that knew how to negotiate. At one point he even made an insulting offer to buy us out of our business for an insulting amount. I would nod politely or agree with him, saying; oh yeah or totally agree, 100 percent, or at the offer to buy us out I would just politely decline even going as far as to say how generous it was.
Karen couldn’t stomach his crap and actually laughed out loud when he said that he was the kind of man who takes what he wants. I was certain that Neal would get angry, but he never did. He was cool. There was no way that he wasn’t insulted. I could see it on his face, he was. He just never lost control of himself. Instead he absorbed it like hate rays from the sun as I tried to keep talk on business and made apologies for Karen, while she just got more and more drunk and beligerant.
“God, you think you’re so fucking great, dont you?” She slurred her words a bit, not realizing what a spectacle she was making now.
Even then, he smiled through it and said, “Yeah, I’m pretty good sweetie. Good enough for your husband to come to me… to beg me for work.”
“It’s not… its negoshiating.” She spat out lamely, and then under her breath, “Not fucking begging.”
“I guess we’ll see.” He said flatly.
He was almost amused, even if he was a little pissed, but it seemed clear to me that the dinner was over.
I paid the cheque. It was the least I could do for the insult, but it was expensive and now I wasn’t going to get any work from him, so it hit a little harder.
After folding her into the passenger seat of our car, I walked over to Neal and made my apologies for the whole night. I explained she clearly had too much and that she didn’t know what she was saying, even though we both knew that wasn’t entirely true and that she never liked Neal at any time we’d ever met him.
I explained that she didn’t hold her booze well and how if she kept drinking she wouldn’t know who was talking to her or where she was so not to take it personally.
His eyes were glued to Karen trying to get a seatbelt around her boobs in the car now and making it look difficult.
“Tell me how badly you need the work.” He said flatly, not even looking at me.
“Honestly? Really badly. I’ll take whatever offer you can give me, really. I’m really in a spot.” I just blathered on like an idiot before he interrupted.
He said, “You’re a terrible negotiator,” He was smiling now, “But I have a ton of extra work right now. Maybe we can help each other out a little.” He says all of this without taking his eyes off Karen, now rooting through her purse in the front seat.
“You still have that hot tub that Doug Barnett put in for you a couple years ago?” He asked.
I said yes.
“You should invite me over to use it.” He was the kind of guy who would invite himself over.
“Yeah some time, that’d be great.” I knew it wouldn’t. I knew neither Karen or I wanted this douchebag in our hot tub, ogling Karen and trying to see her nipples through her bathing suit.