“Kneel,” she said, as she dug into her bag. At least that would keep his hands off her, his fevered, quivering hands that would infect her with their excitement and cause her to maybe say something she regretted and feared the most: The truth.
Her husband complied.
“That looks uncomfortable,” she said, kicking one of her heels off and gently pressing a stockinged foot against the bulge between his legs.
“Yes, it does.”
“Hush! Only speak when you’re spoken to.”
He complied.
“Get your cock out,” she said, hoping to high heaven that he would not ask for more than she had to offer. Tyra considered dragging it out some more, so that he would be less likely to notice any imperfections in the photographs that she had missed (she couldn’t bring herself to scrutinize them that closely), but decided against it. She took the photographs from her bag and handed them over to her husband.
He clutched at them eagerly. His nostrils flared, and his eyes went so wide there was more white than brown visible. One of his hands held the pictures that Tyra had given him, while the other wrenched his cock about convulsively.
“These are good.”
“I’m pleased you liked them. I slipped the bell-boy ten bucks of your hard-earned money to snap these pictures. He had one hell of a bulge, I’ll tell you that. I might even have helped him out with that afterwards.”
“Oh Tyra… oh Tyra, you beautiful little whore… oh, fuck! I married such a nasty, fucking slut!”
“Yes, you did, Ron.” Tyra said.
His orgasm caught them both by surprise. The hot fluid landing on her legs made her shiver and grow moist as she watched him crumple up, hunching over as though his climax was draining all the fluid out of him.
Roughly two-thirds of the human body is water, her science teacher had said, the same teacher who had told Tyra that she was sure her favorite pupil would go on to do great things. That teacher probably did not foresee Tyra standing over Ronnie as he masturbated to the images of a sex worker that bore an uncanny resemblance to his wife getting fucked by a man that she had met on the Internet.
When his orgasm had finally subsided, Ronnie rose, caught her up in his arms, and carried her off to their bedroom, his dripping dick still shockingly hard. The light in his eyes made it a certainty that this would not be the last time she lied to him.
***
“Two men’s extra,” Mellie said, shaking her head at Tyra’s suggestion that she charge a flat rate for her time, regardless of the men involved. “Double or nothing. I’m sorry, but that’s how I operate. What I really charge for is the amount of work I do. If you want me to do twice the work in an hour, you have to double my fee.”
Tyra put her head in her hands and sighed. Mellie was not cheap, even when it was just one man she was working with. To hide her expenses, Tyra had made cash withdrawals from her joint account with Ronnie ostensibly to procure designer heels, bags, and dresses, but spent the money on counterfeits and pocketed the difference to finance her pornorgraphic photo sessions with Mellie and the men who responded to her online advertisements.
Ronnie had not examined her purchases too closely. It gave him a special kick to watch his wife strut out of their apartment in expensive clothes and heels that he was paying for to go screw other men.
Inspiration struck.
“Okay, fine. Never mind.”
“Well, that’s all right, just call me if you change your mind.”
“No, I meant I have the money. Let’s do this.”
Mellie stared at Tyra with concern. Despite having nothing more than a business relationship with Tyra, Mellie was filled with pity for the woman who had to photograph her encounters to gratify her husband’s perverse desires.
“If you’re really pressed for money, you can still pay me double, but you can sneak in two or three more men, as long as you don’t insist on me making them all cum. You can save the pictures of them with me for later so you can get more bang for your buck.”
Bang for your buck… literally. Now that‘s funny, Mellie thought.
“It’s fine. I just remembered that I have some bitcoin that I mined back in my college days, when I was depressed and about to drop out.”
“The exchange rate is pretty good at the moment,” Mellie said.
***
“I want you to have a baby,” Ronnie announced over a pot-roast-and-mashed-potatoes dinner in their apartment. Her husband, for all his quirks, was an excellent chef, and there was nothing more manly than a man who could create in addition to taking apart whatever domestic appliance that frustrated her.
Tyra’s soup spoon stopped halfway to her mouth. A few drops fell and rebounded from the soup bowl, staining her blouse with brownish gravy. She put her spoon down, grinned salaciously, and reached for the first button on her top.
“Well, what’re you waiting for? Let’s get started on it, tiger. Rrr-rr.” Tyra growled. Her silverware clattered as she bumped up against it, scratching the precious plates that she had always nagged Ronnie to be careful about, but she didn’t even give it a thought.