Human Interest 2: A Wife-Sharing Exposé

by Arnica Butler

  Rachel stared at her hands against the wall as Xavier's cock tore her open. The pain seared through her, but she knew it would fade, and it did, much more quickly than before. She felt herself open for him, and then the satisfaction of his enormous cock, so hard and so thick, filling her completely.

  He fucked her slowly at first, withdrawing his long cock inch by inch, until it was nearly out of her. She squirmed with desire, the vacancy of his cock driving her wild for him to fill her again. And then slowly, he did, until his balls crushed against her drenched pussy. This went on and on, and the most tortured sounds escaped Rachel's mouth.

  Then finally, his cock pulsing with his own need, he began to fuck her steadily. He worked up to a fast rhythm, pounding himself into her until she had to pressed her chest up against the wall. His cock pressed out against the back of her ass, scraping at some raw, fresh part of her that made her legs tremble. She slid her hand to her soaked slit, against the wall, and had only to stroke herself a few times to summon another climax. It knocked the breath out of her, and she barely felt it as Xavier slammed his shaft into her until her ass was full of his hot, creamy cum.

  Xavier nuzzled her neck again. They were both wet with sweat, their skin sticky form head to toe. His cock was still inside of her, and she didn't want him to pull out. Her ass throbbed with a pleasurable ache. “Now,” he said, his lips against the skin on her shoulder blades. “Tell me about this plan.”

  F IFTY NOW

  They met at a bar down the street from Xavier's, on what was literally the wrong side of the tracks, where the upscale artists' neighborhood he lived in fell apart and turned into a place of abandoned warehouses and weird lounges that still smelled like cigarette smoke. The crowd on a Tuesday evening was a decidedly hostile and decidedly drunk gathering of three old men, tattooed from head to toe, race indiscernible, faces rolled up into permanent scowls.

  Xavier waved at them, and one of them nodded.

  “Jesus,” Charlotte said, dropping into a black pleather half-circle of a booth. And then, with the peculiarity of her personality, she cheerfully seethed: “This place is fantastic.”

  She put her sunglasses on her head. Her blonde hair was swept up in a ponytail, and she was clad in a lavender, off-the shoulder top out of which her enormous, high, firm breasts threatened to spill any moment. It had been sliding ever-downward, and she seemed to be the kind of woman who would never, ever, adjust the shirt, even if her breasts tumbled out. They were all watching to see when the shirt would shimmy down to her nipples, but it had paused tantalizingly in its descent. The dark crevice between her round hills yawned invitingly.

  “Rachel, darling, order my drink, I don't have any idea what to get here,” she said, slapping a grimy menu closed. “Now,” and her face was radiant, drawing Xavier and Josh right to her pretty and expensive features with her twinkling eyes. “Let's talk plans. I have to be at a golf lesson at eight.”

  Rachel smiled at Xavier. Charlotte was everything she had promised, and Rachel could see that Xavier was amused by her. Josh gave Rachel a playful kick under the table with the same sentiment.

  When the bartender shouted at them from behind the bar to take their order, Rachel ordered Charlotte a martini. Charlotte's eyes, normally glazed over with a bedroom smokiness, came to life. She took a quick slice out of the bar with her eyes squinted, and spoke quickly: “Just a glass of vodka, please. Triple. Ice.” Then, with almost no pause, she began to speak. “My husband, as all of you seem to know, is a real sonofabitch. It seems we can all come to some sort of mutual...solution...to our same problem. Arthur.” Her eyes came back to the table and she smiled.

  “Rachel's told you about the plan?”

  Xavier nodded. Rachel could tell that he still had his guard up. After all, Charlotte seemed too good to be true. The reason for meeting her was less to go over the plan, which wasn't especially intricate, and more to see if she was for real.

  “So you just need some proof that Arthur is cheating on you?” Xavier said, and there was a tone of incredulity in his voice.

  Charlotte's bedroom eyes were back on, and she blinked slowly, sexily. When she opened her mouth to speak it seemed like she was yawning, even though she wasn't. “I need something to hold over his head. Make him...willing to apply a less rigid interpretation of some of our prenuptials. It's all very boring. There's a horse involved.” She closed her mouth to indicate the subject was closed.

  Xavier shrugged when he turned to Rachel. Rachel had been right, of course: Charlotte was a strange bird, but there was something about her that made her strangely likeable.

  Maybe the fact that she hated Arthur so much.

  “Arthur is very cautious about his affairs,” Charlotte said suddenly. “But I know he goes to a gentleman's club-”

  “And that isn't enough?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “My lawyer thinks not. And I'm fucking him – my lawyer – so I feel he'd be inclined to be optimistic.”

  Josh's mouth fell open. Xavier shook his head. “Okay. So this club...”

  “It's just a strip club, you know, high end. All the girls have had a lot of work,” Charlotte made big arches over her own “work” on her chest, “that kind of thing. But everyone knows that a lot more goes on than lap dancing.”

  “So why does Rachel need to be in on this plan?” Xavier said. Rachel could feel Josh stiffen next to her. Xavier's voice had an undercurrent of possessiveness about it.

  She knew it was crazy, but Rachel felt herself getting turned on by Josh's reaction, and Xavier's. She dropped her hand to Josh's thigh, and started to slide it inward. She was pleased to find the shape of his cock, hard as stone, with her fingertips.

  It was all so wrong, but it was undeniably hot.

  “Well,” Charlotte said, taking a glass of vodka from her bartender and then sipping it, waiting for him to disappear. When he left, she took another long gulp, nearly emptying the glass. “The place is...very discreet,” Charlotte explained. “Those girls are making so much money, there's no way to crack them. You can't even get at them, really. It's probably run by a mafia or something...anyway, no way they're going to sell a client out.”

  “What is this place?” Xavier said.

  “Shangri-La,” Charlotte said. “You haven't heard of it. But if Rachel, who Arthur already has his sights set on, were to suggest to him that she would like...I don't know, some sort of additional activities, he would take her there, absolutely.”

  “And then what's the plan? Film it? Why couldn't she just film herself with Arthur, if she's going to go through with it anyway?”

  Charlotte nodded, as if she were participating in a civilized debate. “Because I want something very, very bad on Arthur. I want something that will damage his reputation and get him charged with a crime, not just infidelity. I want,” and her face suddenly turned very dark. “My horse.”

  “Must be some horse,” Xavier said.

  She flashed him an icy stare.

  “I'm willing to pay, of course,” Charlotte said. “And I hear you all have a rather...unconventional relationship. And a bit of a problem of your own.”

  Rachel moved her hand over Josh's cock. Slowly, as not to arouse suspicion of what she was doing among those at the table. She was enjoying that he was getting off on this as much as she was.

  She had a very, very naughty idea. She shifted in her seat and moved her leg toward Xavier's. She let her shoe fall off, and she tucked her foot under his pant cuff.

  Xavier's eyes went to hers briefly, and his mouth smiled just a little, but he played it cool.

  Rachel was getting ideas, and they were taking her mind far away from the discussion at hand. What was she doing? She had her hand on her husband's cock, and she was moving her foot up her lover's leg, seeking out what she hoped she would find: the hard lump of his huge cock. She was talking about sleeping with her boss to blackmail him, and imagining having two men inside of her at once.

  She knew it was all very, very w
rong. At the same time...

  “But how will Rachel get a phone inside, and film it? It seems to me like Arthur must be cautious, and since he's blackmailing Rachel it seems like he'd be...I don't know, on guard,” Josh said. Rachel felt a rush of pleasure when his cock twitched as he said her name.

  Charlotte took a gulp of her vodka. “It's a problem,” she said, like it wasn't, and she didn't care. “But I feel like you can work something out.”

  She reached into her purse, and took out an envelope. Everyone had seen enough movies to know that the lump inside of it was cash. Charlotte pretended to be looking for something in her purse, and then she swept the envelope back inside.

  “That's half. If you agree, I can pay it to you now. There are other benefits, of course. You get your video back, and I imagine you could get some time off, Xavier. Better assignments, Rachel?” Charlotte pressed her lips together, and for a moment it looked as if she were going to have an orgasm right there, thinking about screwing over Arthur. “Well. I'm going to the ladies'. I'll just leave this here,” she said, pointedly, and patted her purse. “I'm usually ten minutes or so in the ladies'.”

  Whens he was out of earshot, Xavier let out a low whistle.

  Rachel had her foot on Xavier's inner thigh, and her hand on Josh's cock. She could scarcely believe her behavior. Not only that, the idea of screwing Arthur, in a strip club, for money, was making a pool of juices gush into her panties. It was such a rush.

  Josh looked at Xavier. Rachel wondered if either of them knew that she was stroking the cock of the other.

  Josh exhaled. “I like the idea of getting back the video,” he lied, and Rachel gave him a look. He was falling into his own role as easily as she was hers.

  “I like the idea of fucking Arthur over,” Rachel said.

  Xavier narrowed his eyes. “And you're okay fucking him? To get this done?”

  Rachel shrugged. So he hadn't just “forgotten about” this part of the plan. She was, she was more than okay with it, but she had planned an answer for just his occasion. “Maybe I can get the footage without actually doing it. Tell him I want to see him bonk some other girl first, it turns me on.”

  Xavier smiled and shook his head. “I never heard of a girl like that,” he said, amused.

  “But we all dream of one,” Josh said softly, and his cock twitched under Rachel's hand. “He might buy it.”

  Xavier looked across the bar, thinking. “We still have the problem of filming it. How're you gonna do that?”

  They fell silent.

  “Tiny camera?” Rachel said.

  “Wait a minute,” Xavier said. “Wait a minute.” He sucked in his lower lip. A devious grin was beginning to grow on his face. “What'd she say that place was called?”

  “Shangri-La,” Rachel said. “It's more exclusive than Aspen Club.”

  Xavier grabbed Charlotte's purse and took out the envelope money as he talked. “I got it. I got the whole problem solved.”

  Josh looked at him strangely. Rachel's foot and hand stopped their massaging.

  “You gonna tell us?” Rachel said, finally. After all, he was committing them to this thing by taking the money.

  “We got this thing. I just remembered.”

  “Remembered what?” Rachel said, impatient for the answer.

  Charlotte was returning from the ladies', and they fell silent. She picked up her purse, and without looking into it, she gave her hair a toss and fluttered her fingers. “Well then,” she said coyly. “I have to get to golf. We'll be in touch then?”

  Xavier was looking incredibly smug. He nodded.

  Charlotte bounced away.

  When she was gone, Rachel leaned toward Xavier. “Xavier, what?”

  “Oh man,” Xavier said, rubbing his palms together. “I love it when a plan comes together.”

  “What?” Rachel and Josh both said, at the same time.

  Xavier just nodded happily. He was beaming.

  “Tyra,” he said finally.

  M ORE GOOD LUCK

  “You all are straight crazy.”

  Tyra was standing at the head of the dining table, her arms folded, he statuesque body towering over them. Her exquisite face was hardened into a disbelieving stare that also conveyed something like motherly disappointment.

  She was wearing a lime-green shirt that hugged her supple curves, and jeans that made her ass murderously round and sexual. Rachel stared up at her in awe of her beauty. She was remembering it all now: that Tyra managed a modeling agency. That she and Rachel had a whole conversation about what a bad business it was, and how the girls could hardly make any money.

  And how the plight of the models led them to work bottle service at strip clubs.

  Sometimes escort services.

  The whole conversation was coming back to Rachel now. Josh was still confused, because Xavier had not bothered to connect all the dots for him, and he had no idea what Tyra even did for a living.

  Xavier had simply stood up at the dive bar, and told them they needed to follow him home because they needed to speak to Tyra.

  Now, sitting at the table with Tyra standing at the head of it, Rachel was putting the whole thing together.

  Tyra, however, seemed unconvinced.

  Xavier took the envelope out of his coat pocket. He opened it and set the cash on the table.

  “That's half. And we get the video back. And I think we could negotiate a little more. A sabbatical. Go to the Caribbean, like we planned?” Xavier said.

  “How much is that?” Tyra whispered.

  It was Josh who answered. “Fifty.”

  Tyra's eyes grew wet with excitement looking at the money. Then she shook her head. “Nuh-uh,” she said quickly. “Nope. This here is a bad idea.”

  “Baby,” Xavier said. “Think about it.”

  “And what happens to the girl?”

  Rachel had it all connected. She jumped in. “Nothing. Think about it. There's no reason for him to know anyone helped us...in fact, there's no reason he would suspect it. From his perspective, we could just be very clever. And anyway, this is all blackmail, right? He won't say anything to anyone about any of it, provided the video stays quiet. Just like we didn't run to the cops, when he had the upper hand.”

  Rachel could see that Tyra was thinking about it.

  “All you need to do, baby, is get one girl to help us out. Get me and Josh into the club. That's what they do, right? Bring in new clients?”

  Tyra tapped her fingers on her arm, shaking her head. “And then what?”

  “Then we get the film, and get out.”

  Tyra sighed.

  There was a silence.

  “You aren't going to need anyone else,” Tyra said finally. “Not for the referral, at least.”

  Xavier sat back in chair, his eyes going wide with disbelief. “No shit,” he said. “You're not working there are you?”

  Tyra shot a look at him. “Don't be a fool,” she snapped. Then more softly, and it was clear she was making an admission. “But I sometimes make...referrals.”

  Rachel's eyes nearly popped out of her head.

  Josh looked at Rachel. “What is going on?” he mouthed. He was still hopelessly lost.

  “Tell you later,” she mouthed back.

  Xavier laughed, shaking his head.

  “So what?” he said, finally. Rachel was staring at Tyra, and Tyra was looking at her fingers, a little sheepish with her admission. Josh had an expression of utter confusion on his face. “Are we gonna do this thing, or what?” Xavier asked them.

  Josh looked to Rachel for help.

  She shrugged.

  Tyra was staring at the money. She gave a hopeless shrug.

  “Let's plan then,” Xavier said.

  T HE SETUP

  Rachel felt taller than she had ever felt before. Some of that had to do with the five-inch heels she was wearing: a rich, black open-toed shoe with a spiked heel and an ankle strap that looked faintly like bondage. But in part she felt tall
because she was surging with energy. A new kind of sexual energy, unlike any she'd ever felt before. She was on a high: a power-high, a sexual high, an adrenaline high. On the inside she felt like her veins were filled with electricity instead of blood.

  But outwardly, she was calm. She was enjoying the act, slinking down the hallway to Arthur's enormous office in a short white skirt and black silk blouse. After she passed his secretary, Rachel unbuttoned one additional catch in her shirt, so that as the blouse moved over her skin with her walk, the occasional snippet of black lace would peek out, and the swell of her breasts was visible between the folds of fabric.

  She could see that Arthur was surprised when she entered his office. Not so much that she was there, but by the way she was carrying herself. It gave Rachel another delicious jolt of adrenaline, arousal, or whatever it was that was coursing through her. She closed the door and leaned on it. She crossed her ankles and placed her hands on her hips.

  “I've been giving it some thought,” she purred, before Arthur could recover from her dramatic entrance and say anything, “and I have a request for you.”

  Rachel had discussed this tactic last night with Josh, and at first she had been a little unsure of herself. She and Josh had gotten themselves worked up into quite a fever, talking about their plans, and Rachel had been atop Josh in their bed, her hand behind her on his balls, riding him to make herself come as she told him how much she was getting off on this adventure. But how would she convince Arthur to go to a strip club? His strip club?

  Josh hadn't had anything to say at the moment, but after he came he started laughing.

  “Rachel,” he said. “Trust me. If you walk into Arthur's office and say, 'oh, that thing we have planned, I'd like to do it after watching you with another chick, maybe get in on some girl-on-girl action, what do you think? I...have a feeling you won't have to do much 'convincing.'”

  And of course Rachel realized that was true now. Arthur Frost was clearly a man who used his brain only to think of workarounds for his cock. She liked the way his eyes were unable to leave the crevice between her breasts, or the lines of her legs, dangling from her short skirt.