A hooker for my husband - Sex Stories

A hooker for my husband

I was enjoying a lazy relaxing morning, doing not very much at all. I’d showered, but not much more. I was sitting drinking a freshly made coffee, reading the Financial Times. I heard the door, and then my husband walked in. He looked serious. “You’re home early, I wasn’t expecting you until at least seven! Coffee?” I asked. “Please,” Hubby replied. I poured him a coffee, strong. Black. I placed it in front of him, lightly kissed him on the cheek. Then re-tying my silk wrap, the only thing I had on, I sat back down. I waited, he’d tell me what was up, when he was ready. “I’m on my way to meet with a client. If I can pursued him to sign, and its still an if, it will be a biggie. If we did no more business this year it wouldn’t matter.” Hubby said. “So why the long face?” I asked. “I’ve done business with him before. He always requires an e****t when he’s in town, a rather special e****t.” “So use the one you got him last time.” I said flatly. “That’s the problem. She won’t, apparently he fucks for hours, made her pass out, plus his cock is too big for her. I offered he more money - no go.” “So find another darling, we live in London, how hard can it be” I asked. “He has rather specific tastes. Very attractive, 5’8” at least, short blonde hair, large breasts, long legs. She must do anal. Shaved pussy.” “Ah now I see. You want me to fuck him, is that it?” I said “Would you? You fit what he wants to a tee. But he’s a bit kinky.” “How kinky?” I asked, intrigued. “Well he likes ...

... stocking, high heels. Very erotic underwear. Anal as I said. Some bondage, and spanking.” “That’s not kinky, that’s normal darling. So when do you want me to meet him?” “You’ll do it? Thank you darling. Its tomorrow evening, so you could use the apartment?” “Tomorrow. You naughty bastard!” I retorted. Thursday night were my nights. Nights I fucked my lovers. I never brought them here, to our home, but used an apartment I had inherited from an uncle. “You’ll do it? Oh thank you darling, but he must never know you are my wife, whatever happens, nor that you are a majority share holder in the company.” “He’ll never know. Now how much am I worth?” “Well the girls we normally use charge £1000 to £2000.” “I’m not your usual, £3000 and I’ll do whatever he wants. Now will he pay me, or will you?” “No, he’ll pay” “Good, now I need some clothes and things to entertain you’re client, Give me twenty minutes. We are going shopping.” I told Hubby. London has some wonderful shops, I knew where to go, a little shop just off Holloway Road. It looked unremarkable from the outside, but inside, well that was a different matter. I’d decided PVC would be best, wipe-able. I select various items, half bras, high cut suspender belts, a corset, several waspies. Stockings, seamed, shinny, eight denier, very sheer, very sexy. I selected some killer heels, eight inches. “Aren’t they just a little high?” Hubby asked. “I don’t think I’ll be doing much walking in them, do you?” “Box them sweetie, and I’ll have ...