by Bridy McAvoy
Max rose to his feet, together with Hayley, and they headed for the exit, with Hayley helping Max on one side and Julia helping him on the other.
Julia couldn’t get out of the club fast enough. She was mortified that everyone had heard her. At least, it seemed they had. They almost made it to the door before the lights came back up, and only three or four people got a glimpse of her breasts swinging freely inside her near transparent blouse. The doormen got a better look and she could see their grins as the group of five made their way to the curb a few meters past the club.
The three students formed a barrier around her so Julia wasn’t on show to other club goers as they spilled out, but nobody spoke. Max stuck his hand out and managed to flag a cab down within a couple of minutes, and Julia gave the two men who’d just stimulated and humiliated her in equal measure a quick peck on the cheek before bundling herself into the cab with Max.
She sat back and closed her eyes, breathing deeply as the cab sped off. That hadn’t been the night of dancing and fun she’d anticipated, and she was pretty sure it hadn’t been the one her husband had planned either.
“You okay, darling?”
“Hurts a bit, but it’ll be fine.”
“Good.”
“Honey?”
“Hmm?”
“Where’s your underwear?”
She watched the cab driver’s ears redden in front of them and knew he’d noticed her sore lack of such, or at least her blatant lack of a bra.
She sighed. “Tell you later.”
Julia’s Outrage
“Are you sure this dress is okay?” Julia bit her lip, sudden anxiety at her choice flooding her system.
“You know I like that dress.”
“You don’t think it’s too much?”
Max rolled his eyes. She could see he was starting to get impatient with her. It wasn’t like it was the first time she’d gone to wear this dress and then chickened out.
The flapper-style dress hugged her chest like a second skin, while the back was bare. The skirt, made up of hundreds of strings, shifted and flared out with every move of her body, parting to show off a length of stocking-covered leg at every opportunity. The bright green color of the dress worked well with her deep red hair. The whole effect was stunning and, she knew from experience, sexy.
Max crossed the bedroom and grabbed her hands, turning her to face him.
“Honey.”
“What?”
“Stop fussing. You look great.”
“But…”
“But what? You wore the dress for the last office Christmas party. Nobody who was there will be over at the Sampson’s tonight. So nobody will know you’re wearing it for a second time. Although, God knows, you’ve got enough dresses you’ve only ever worn once.”
She sighed. “It’s not that.”
“It’s not what?”
He’d turned the tables on her, and now she was going to have to bring up a subject she didn’t want to. “Because last time I wore this dress I got a little bit carried away.”
He chuckled. “And if my memory is correct, you ended up slinking your way out of it to music in front of three very interested men in a hotel room.”
She bit her lip and nodded.
“Once you were naked, I seem to remember they fucked you three ways from Sunday, then tossed your naked ass out into the corridor.”
“You make it sound so sordid.”
“Honey, it was sordid, and when you told me, I was hard as steel. In fact, thinking about it now is getting me hard.”
“So we can avoid the party? Stay here and have our own?”
He pulled her in tight, proving he wasn’t lying as he pressed his hard cock against her. “No, we’re going.”
Julia pouted and ground back against him. “Are you sure?”
“Quite sure. Now put your shoes on, before I have to spank you.”
“If you spank me, I won’t be able to sit down, so that means we’d avoid the party. Sounds like a deal to me.” She turned around, bent over and put her hands on her knees, wiggling her butt at him. Max, though, wiser perhaps than his years, didn’t take the bait.
“Shoes on. We’re already late.”
“Spoilsport.”
“You can have a spanking later for being a naughty girl.”
She grinned at him and reached for her heels. “Is that a promise?”
“Of course it is, minx. That way you won’t sit down ʾtil Wednesday, and that’ll suit me.”
She pouted again, his last comment dispelling her playful mood. She’d hoped to forget he was jetting out lunchtime tomorrow for a four day trip.
* * * *
As she cuddled her third gin and tonic, Julia leaned over to her husband and whispered in his ear. “I’d forgotten how boring Gina and Chas are. This party is dead.”
“I know, honey, but we can’t leave yet, much as I’d rather take you to bed and spend the evening fucking you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight in the morning.”
Desire rushed through her system and she hoped nobody had heard the last thing he said. She knew he’d done it simply to have that result on her. Julia, though, didn’t care. She’d have been happy leaving the party and racing back to their own home so they could fall into bed with each other. Unfortunately, he was right. It was too early to ditch the party and go home, even if she pleaded a sudden headache. Actually, especially if she was gauche enough to do that, everybody would assume that was an excuse for some alone time with her husband. If they’d known he was flying out tomorrow, they’d take any excuse as being for that reason, which it would have been, of course.
She nodded, and they both drifted their separate ways, enabling them to talk to their other neighbors, both equally frustrated with the way the party was turning out.
About thirty minutes later she found herself talking to Ryan and Samantha. She still remembered what had happened after their house-warming party and she kept a tight lid on those memories, not wanting to blush. Samantha was watching her closely, amusement blooming in her eyes, telling Julia her neighbor wouldn’t say no to another threesome. Ryan, though, seemed to have a more roving eye tonight—sizing up most of the women in the room—well, the younger ones, anyway. She caught sight of Max on the other side of the room, deep in a low conversation with Steve Hutchins from over the road and another fifty-something guy. She remembered being introduced to him as James, or Jim, an old friend of Steve’s who was staying for a few days. Max looked up, caught her eye and grinned, then returned to his conversation. As she drifted away from Ryan and Samantha, she hoped Max was having more fun than she was.
A few minutes later she headed for the kitchen to find a soft drink. She’d had enough alcohol, given her plans for later in the evening, and found herself the only person in there. She bent over at the refrigerator to pull out a bottle of lemonade and was surprised by a low whistle behind her.
Julia spun around to find Jim standing in the doorway, grinning at her.
“Sorry, that was a bit vulgar, even rude of me, but you looked magnificent like that.” He moved closer, extending his hand. “Will you accept my apology?”
She shook his hand and nodded. “Sure. No offence.”
“Good, I’m pleased about that. I wouldn’t want to start off on the wrong foot.”
“Forget it.”
“Steve tells me you have modelled for him.”
Julia knew she was frowning. She had indeed modelled for him on two—no, three, or was it four?—occasions, but usually with her own, or rather Max’s, camera. Steve was starting to become rather too indiscreet.
“Whoa. Don’t worry, he hasn’t got any pictures to show me, but, to be honest, I wish he had.”
She pursed her lips and sighed. “He’s not supposed to tell people about that.”
Jim looked over his shoulder conspiratorially, checking there was nobody in earshot. She had to giggle, it looked so stupid.
“It’s no surprise he told me. Th
at’s where the two of us met thirty odd years ago, at a camera club.” He sighed. “We had a gorgeous model then, and she’d pose topless for us sometimes too. Then she stopped modelling for the club.”
“What happened to her?”
His smile seemed whimsical and she guessed he was replaying fond memories in his head. “She married one of the club members—Steve.”
“Oh.”
“We’ve kept in touch, and since we both lost our wives a few years back…”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t worry. It was a relief in the end. No more pain.”
She could see in his eyes that he meant no more pain for his wife, the woman he still carried a torch for, just like Steve did for his departed wife.
“We see each other a couple of times a year. I fly home on Monday.”
“Well, it was nice to meet you.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh?”
“We were wondering if you’d model for the two of us—myself and Steve?”
“You’re kidding! No. Simple answer. No. I did that for my husband.”
He chuckled. “I know. He told us how much he enjoyed you showing him the pictures later.”
She felt fury building inside. “I’ll kill him! That’s private.”
“No, you won’t. Actually, he’s part of the deal.”
“Sorry, what?”
“Well, he’ll be flying out tomorrow, and he’ll be in a hotel in the back end of Texas with nothing to do other than play on his laptop.”
She nodded, still mad that Max had discussed those pictures. She couldn’t really blame him if he and Steve had compared notes, but to involve another man—that was too much.
“So?” Max had talked to her about the idea of them Skyping on the laptop and having some cyber-sex tomorrow night.
“Well, Max says he’d always wished he’d had the opportunity to watch Steve take those pictures.”
“I’ll most definitely kill him, very slowly.” Julia was, by now, backed up against the sink unit, with Jim standing right in front of her, their voices low in case anyone else came into the kitchen. It was still brightly lit, so it wouldn’t look like there was something sleazy going on. It still made her a little uncomfortable.
“Our thoughts are that Steve and I can come over tomorrow night with our cameras and take some pictures of you, while Max watches in over webcam. We’ve got a couple of spare cameras we can set up on the laptop so he can see from three angles.”
“That’s sick.”
“No, it’s not. It would be sick if you were an amateur model.”
“I am.”
“Not if we pay you, say, four hundred dollars between us for, say, six hours of modelling time.”
“You are kidding me!”
He shook his head and backed away, taking his beer-breath out of her face.
“No, I’m not. That’s the deal. Max is game. Why don’t you go talk to your husband about this?”
As he left the kitchen, Julia felt herself shaking in fury. The idea left her outraged. As if she would let them pay her a paltry four hundred dollars to take her clothes off for them. She’d never taken money for anything even remotely like that…ever.
Max joined her in the kitchen a couple of minutes later.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Whoa. It wasn’t my idea, honey.”
“Don’t you honey me. You are not pimping your own wife out while you watch. You shouldn’t even have been talking to them.”
Even though she was angrier than she’d been in a long while, she could feel how her body had reacted to the idea. Despite her outrage, she’d started to get turned on.
“Nobody is pimping out anyone, and nobody is saying you’re a call girl.”
He stood there, leaning back against the granite top of the island, his arms folded as he watched her. She could see the way his gaze drifted down from her eyes to her chest and then, when he looked back up, he had a smile playing on his lips. She didn’t have to glance down to know her nipples were hard, and from his smile, sticking out as points in the front of the dress.
“I can’t believe you want me to do this.”
“Why? What difference is it from what happened in the nightclub three weeks ago?”
She blushed. That memory was seared into her brain—the way the college students had manipulated her body in the darkened corner, while her husband had sat nursing an injured leg at a table not too many feet away. These two men weren’t relatively inexperienced college guys. These two were very experienced older men—much older than her even.
“Because, if they are going to be at our house for six hours, they are not going to be watching me take off one outfit, are they? They’re going to want to take pictures of me putting each one on as well. How many outfits? Four, five?”
“Probably.”
“They’ll want to take pictures of me masturbating to orgasm. Not just once either.”
“I’d say definitely.”
“And you know they’ll end up cutting the connection so they can fuck me, don’t you?”
“If they cut the connection, they’ll video it through the webcam.”
“Fuck! You’ve planned it all with them, haven’t you?”
He grinned and closed the gap between them. Putting his arms around her, he went to kiss her but she turned her face away.
“And all for a miserable four hundred dollars.”
He chuckled. “You work in sales. That was their opening offer. I’m sure you can negotiate for more money.”
She stared at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Max took the chance and sealed her lips with his. She kissed him back as she stared into the depths of his eyes. As usual, if she got mad about something, Max would calm her down by the simple expedient of kissing her into silence. Breaking the kiss, she glared at him before draping her arms around his neck. “You want this? I mean, really want this? Knowing they’ll fuck me before they leave?”
“More than once, honey. More than once. Both of them together too.”
She shivered. “And what are they going to do with the pictures?”
“Whatever they want, but I don’t think either of them would publish them, anyway.”
“You’re really sure about this?”
“Yes.”
She took a deep breath. “Then we need to do some negotiating. Getting a sight of my naked body is worth a damn sight more than four hundred dollars…each. Let alone anything else.”
Max grinned. “That’s my girl.”
* * * *
Julia checked her hair and makeup in the full-length mirror for the final time, making sure everything looked as good as it could. Even so, her eyes kept straying back to the pile of twenty and fifty dollar notes stacked on her dressing table. Two thousand! Two thousand dollars had been the agreed price for this afternoon and they’d agreed to Max’s conditions too. Every pose, everything was to happen downstairs, within range of the webcams they’d set up to cover the family room, dining room and kitchen.
She could hear the low hubbub of voices downstairs as the two men set up their equipment. She’d let them in and they’d spent an hour fussing around setting up the laptop with the triple camera set-up, making sure everything would work and feed to a single connection. The two satellite cameras were positioned to provide coverage into the other two rooms, but the den remained uncovered and out of bounds. Despite their assurances they were paying her to model, she’d still felt a little ashamed, dirty even, to take the money from them. She’d even blushed as they’d insisted she count it to confirm it was all there.
She thought she heard a third recognizable voice join the conversation downstairs and, sure enough, her cell chirped with a text message.
All on line, no problem. Can see all three images so currently staring at two guys when what I want to see is my beautiful wife in triplicate in all her glory. Get your butt downstairs and join the fun. Time’s mone
y! Hugs M xxx
She chuckled to herself. Trust Max to drive a stake through the heart of her problem—the money. Still, they’d insisted on paying, and Max had insisted she negotiate the amount up to where it now was.
On my way, honey. Hugs. J xxx XXX xxx
Taking a last look in the mirror, she walked out to the top of the stairs and took a deep breath. Never had her own home felt so alien to her. Walking down the stairs seemed to take an age but in seconds she was standing at the foot facing the two men. Steve and Jim were all smiles, their cameras slung around their necks on long straps.
“And here is our gorgeous model, in her equally gorgeous dress.”
“Silly, this is the dress I wore yesterday.”
Steve grinned at her. “Yeah, but last night we didn’t get to see what was underneath it.”
She could feel herself blushing while behind her on the laptop screen she could see Max laughing. Although she couldn’t hear him, she knew he could hear her.
“Stop laughing, you.”
Jim spoke up this time. “Now, we need to do one security check, please. For our purposes, Max has, as you know, agreed that he can’t interfere at all.”
Julia nodded.
“So the speakers are muted so you can’t hear him.”
She swallowed and nodded. This had been the sticking point for her, but in the end the knowledge that Max wanted this, and that she’d had no way of Max interfering the last three times Steve had photographed her, had swayed her. She nodded again.
“So, since he can’t respond, I want you to say out loud a four-digit number, it can be anything, but don’t make it your pin code. Max will text that number back to you, so that way we all know everything is on the level.”
