6
The old brick office block on Main Street looked just like it was supposed to look. Built in 1916, ten years after the town was founded, it was one of the earliest examples of the ‘permanent’ town. There were retail shop fronts below and curb side parking. During the day, parking could be a problem. At night, parking really isn’t an issue. Between the storefronts is a door opening onto a staircase, which takes you up to a hall on the second floor. There are doors up and down the hall on both sides. On the street side are professional offices used by an architect, a dentist and two lawyers. On the side that looks over the alley, the spaces are far deeper and with far more floor space. I rented one of these. Another was a yoga studio. The third one was an apartment for a couple. The feel of a 1930’s Raymond Chandler novel pervaded as you walked down the hall. As you entered my apartment, all of that changed.As with all such buildings, the ceilings are a standard twelve feet. I had the place gutted and redone – including new drywall for the walls and ceiling – new electrical runs – new kitchen and new “mission style” furniture throughout. The place looked more contemporary. Of course, we had the old fashion radiators, but in this case, it did not hurt the look at all.
I do not like ceiling lights and so all lights, with the exception of the kitchen area, were floor standing or wall sconces. Even using those damned compact florescent “bulbs” it gave the rooms a warm but not overly bright appearance. The living room had comfortable chairs with reading lights and two couches. I had a floor to ceiling bookcase built into one wall. The floor was a lustrous walnut. The design of the living room, dining room and kitchen were ‘open plan’ as in a studio. There was a separate bedroom with bathroom. A coat closet was in the entry foyer.
The bedroom – and there was only one – was not as large but pleasant. There were two walk-in closets. One of them was for me (and my wife too). There were two dressers. One of them was for me (and my wife). The bed was queen sized, not king. I cannot explain it but I never could get used to king size beds. I can sleep quite comfortably on a double with a woman. I can sleep well on a queen with two women. I have no interest in expanding beyond that. As to fucking… hell, I can fuck a woman on a cot, kitchen counter, or living room couch.
The master bathroom was a bit more unusual. There were two sinks. And, of course, there was the stool. There was a matching bidet. There was a two-person shower, but you could squeeze three in it. A two person Jacuzzi tub (not a hot tub). A sauna closet/room within the bathroom sat three closely. In the main part of the bathroom, a ceiling mounted heating panel could be turned on, and the tile floor had a heating element underneath it. A large fan on the roof pulled air from the room without putting the noise into the room. Where there was no tile, the walls were cedar. Mirrors at the sinks and a full length on one wall completed the room.
For cooling in the summer I had a special cooling unit placed on the roof which supported wall mounted air handlers without noise in the rooms. It was a little pricey, but worth it.
I had a little “home/office” here as well. Not much but enough to get things done when needed. I could, and did, think of it, as a second home and when I was here, I was quite comfortable. Oh, there was one other thing. There were no “windows”. We bricked them up with those glass bricks that allow some light through but not images. Outside air came in through specially designed vents to prevent snooping.
I designed the kitchen for occasional use. While the fridge was large, the range top, oven and dishwasher were not. Nor was there a lot of storage space for pots, pans, gadgets and food. Just “enough” was all I thought I would need.
The new addition to my world, Red, was an administrative assistant to a female business manager for a local chemical company, she was single and without children. At 35, she was only a year older than Teach. She was also a trained masseuse. Physically her dimensions were almost identical to my wife’s but stretched over six more inches. She was thinner and trimmer looking. She tended to wear higher heels and proportionally shorter skirts than my teacher wife was used to wearing. She was in some ways upping the ante.
After the first month of meetings twice a week, during which time I paid her at the beginning of each visit - $250 per visit – I set her up with the $2K deposit in her bank account as I had done previously. It was fine with her and I just liked it better that way. I know you are thinking she was cheated, but that assumed that there would be weeks that we would only meet once or not at all and she would still have the cash. It actually would have worked out to her favor but for her choice in the matter, which I will explain shortly.
As is my way, she was given a key to the apartment. She was free to come there, put her personal effects there, and in doing so make it “our” place. Whereas anything my wife brought was contained in “my” space, Red’s space was hers to do with as she wanted. The only limitation, and it was a big one, was that she was to never bring anyone else there. So far as I know, it never was a problem.
One of the items that quickly showed up was a very nice massage table. It resided in the living room.
Red surprised me in a number of ways. Sex? There is no such thing as bad sex and sex was wonderful with Red although some positions were not possible for me with her because of how short I am in comparison. We compensated and while I cannot speak for what I did for her other than that there was no doubt that the woman is multi-orgasmic, she was able to get me off in a number of ways including on her massage table. From the very first evening I met her she never wore panties or any underwear that covered her crotch while we were together. Later I learned that she did wear panties at work, she took them off as soon as she came home.
It was also on that first night that I learned that she was bi. Her other major “client”, although not on my scale, for the first year we were together, was a woman in her late 50’s. I did not know who that was, nor did I want to know. I gather there were a couple of other clients she would see once a month.
The biggest surprise was in the nature of our relationship. Red decided essentially to move into the apartment full time. I had not said she could, but I had not said she could not either. She had a small townhouse on the east side of town and she kept that for when she visited with others, friends or her clients. However, she spent much of her time during the week at the apartment. While weekends would often find her at the townhouse, (I guess,) and she would be out of the apartment during work hours and to meet clients during the evening on weekdays, when that occurred (no more than four times a month max,) for the rest of the time she was at the apartment.
Since I was there no more than three days / nights a week and mostly during the weekdays, as far as I knew, she was almost always at the apartment.
So rather than a private getaway apartment for myself with the occasional visitor, I essentially had a second weekday wife. Even on the weekends when I was there, she was, on occasion, there. She seemed quickly to decide that she was settling in with me. Why? I do not know, but maybe if I explained how it worked out the night she met my wife it might lay some groundwork.
I had been seeing Red for just almost a month at this point but had yet to set her up on the monthly payment regime.
As I had instructed my wife, she got a sitter (LM was still only 10 and not quite old enough to be left alone at night). Teach had gotten home from school, showered, changed and after the sitter arrived we had left the house together and drove to my apartment. We got there at four thirty in the afternoon. She brought a book and I had one at the apartment I was reading. Upon arriving I turned on the XM (it only became Sirius/XM later) to XM Classics on channel 110 and settled on a couch with her to read until Red came at five thirty.
There were snacks, a nice green salad. a nice local artisan cheese, and soup (roasted red pepper) in the fridge along with chilled bottle Pinot Gris for Teach (which is nice with cheese) and Ale for Red and me (also good with cheese and I had brewed it). There were also nice reds in a rack. I had also brought a couple of fresh baguettes. No one was going to go hungry or thirsty.
I had a rule of sorts. I am too old to rush into sex, like a starved teenager. I want a chance to relax, to talk, to admire and to flirt. I also want to talk over the day. I care about the woman (or in this case the women) with whom I am sharing my life. I care about how they are doing. If a woman cannot share with me, I am going to have a difficult time caring enough about her to want to have sex with her. She is not a piece of meat. Sex is in the head as well as the testicle or clitoris. It is possible to have a one-night stand and not care, but not so a multi-year commitment.
Red and I had been together seven times. She and I had already discussed the long-term nature of my interest. I had been pleased with the first few meetings and had indicated what the longer term prospects were. I gave her a while to chew on it. It did not take but the next time we were together for Red to tell me she was all for it. By week seven we were of the understanding that payments would become monthly at this month’s end. She also knew that my wife would join us on occasion, just not when.
This last item was the only thing that got her hinky. Red was scared that she and Teach might not hit it off well. I said nothing to Teach about it. There was no reason. They either would hit it off well or would not. Saying something would only hype the matter.
Red arrived a little after 5:30. She had her key and let herself in to the apartment. When you enter in the small foyer there is the coat closet right there and a small table upon which you can place a purse. You can see very little of the living room.
When she entered the living room, she was looking right at my wife.
Red froze.
Teach is the definition of class.
My wife put her book down, stood up and with grace and a sweet smile walked up to Red. She put both hands out in a handshake. Taking Red’s right hand with her right hand, with her left hand covering, she looked directly at Red.
Teach smiled, shook her head as in disbelief and said, Wow! You are beautiful. Thank you for entering my husband’s life.
She paused and then continued, This is your space with him.
At which point while still holding right hands, Teach’s left arm gently swung an arc indicating the whole space.
I am here only by your sufferance. You may eject me at any time and for any reason. I had my husband’s permission to come today. I need yours to stay. If you do not give it, it will not have any impact on my husband’s desire for you, which I know to be great. If you give me permission to stay, I intend to make love to you.
Red started to both cry and laugh. The women embraced. I went back to some red wine I had poured myself earlier, and the book I was reading. My best guess is that I would not be needed for a while. They were headed for the bedroom.
I did not see either of them until about seven pm. At which point they entered the living room announcing they were hungry. I already had heated up the soup, laid out the cheese and set the table. I now poured the chilled pinot gris for Teach and opened two bottles of porter for Red and me.
Both were wearing silk kimonos and both were knockouts. I was a very lucky man. We sat as the girls chattered and gave me grief. It was clear that they had bonded. I had not told Red how I had gotten together with my wife, but that night before they rejoined me, at least part of the story was told.
It is hard to explain all that transpired that night as I was not there for of much of the most important parts, but for my wife, there was a new person in her life with whom she would fall deeply in love. For Red, somehow I was less a client and more of a primary anchor in her life. Whenever we were “home” together, we were likely as not to make love. My wife would go to the apartment when I was not there as well as when I was. She developed her own relationship with Red, separate from mine.
Eventually my wife insisted we increase the payment to Red for the following reasons: Red had stopped seeing all but the other woman, Red didn’t make as much as my wife had been making when I was paying her and so life was more of a stretch for Red, and Red was providing more services than my wife had provided. All of this was true and so the compensation went from $24K/yr to $36K/yr. Of course, on a personal level it did not feel like services. It felt more like a part of life.
Over the year that followed many of my rules were overturned by the two women. Red was a frequent visitor to the house, as a friend and lover of my wife. Red got a key to the house, my wife got a key to the apartment. Red was happy with the apartment. The only issue was that I really didn’t want others walking in and out of there. When rooms adjacent to my apartment became vacant, we leased those, made modifications, including making a connection between the apartments and created a place where Red could entertain – but no clients. She gave up the townhouse, saving a fair amount for her. Following which, a few months later, Red and my wife and I had a conversation that has been a controlling decision for us since then.
Just like my wife, prostitution had been a way to create financial stability. The office job paid the bills. It was not going to provide a real nest egg for the future. Red desperately wanted to know her later years would not be rough ones. Once a suitable level of secondary income had been achieved, the only issue was holding on to sufficient clients so that if one dropped out it was not a crisis. My appearance on the scene for each of them, when it occurred, put a monkey wrench in their plans as I was too large a financial factor. My wife resolved the problem by marrying me. Teach called the meeting of the three of us for a Saturday morning at the apartment.
Red sat quietly as my wife laid out the reasons she had gotten into prostitution, my impact on her world and her resolution. She then directed me to Red’s plight. She had already given up her male clients, she had given up her townhouse and she was soon to lose her one female client. While she was making enough that there was no immediate financial issue, Red was totally dependent upon me to maintain her financial position and her living space. As she got older, her value decreased and what if I dumped her in four or five years? She would be in a real fix. Even now, she would have to build back a client list, which was not all that easy. On top of everything, marriage to me was off the table.
At which point, thinking that such a thing would not have been attractive to Red, I made some offhand comment that she would not want to marry me anyway. The room got cold. Red spoke for the first time. Her voice had an edge to it. Jake! If it ever happened that you were single, if you didn’t marry me, I would cut your nuts off. Are you clear on that?
Yes, I was clear on that! So, what to do?
To provide financial stability we set up a revocable trust that would annually move a specified sum into an irrevocable trust in Red’s name. No matter what, she would be financially OK. She would be 100% vested in ten years. Essentially, I recapitulated what Red had hoped to have built by age 45, which is when she thought she would have to be retired anyway as far as the prostitution went. I wasn’t spending more than the $36K/yr. I was guarantying it would be there for all the years she expected to need it.
The day the trust paperwork was completed and the money transferred into the account we had another meeting at the apartment. My wife told me to dress up and that she would meet me there.
When I arrived, the music was on, Champagne was in an ice bucket and the bedroom door was closed. When the door opened, my wife stepped out in much the same attire as she had with LM in the hotel room before our wedding ceremony. Red entered and was dressed identically. The demi-cut lace bra’s, the garters and the hose and heels. Each held a bouquet of flowers. My wife spoke for both of them.
Husband, tonight you and I will modify our vows to each other. We will put aside and renounce the promises we made to each other. Husband, you, your bride Red and I will take new vows to each other. These vows are to be as binding as any you might ever make.
She handed me a copy of the vows, which each of us took that night. From that night on, I no longer see a prostitute. I see one of my wives. I further agreed that I would not have any other woman except that one of my wives would be present with me during the entire time.
They vowed, to ever be available to me and if one were experiencing an inability to honor the vow, the other would do so in her place. There was the sickness and in health piece and all the rest that you would expect. At the end both kneeled down and with an amazing display of cooperation sucked me until I was ready to explode. At which point with their heads cheek to cheek and my cock in Teach’s mouth I shot my first stream. Before I unloaded my second shot I was in Red’s mouth. The vows had been sealed.
That night we made love – all three of us and I left cum in both of them. There was no condom.
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Twelve months since Las Vegas, life at home had settled down nicely. This included LM. I had sworn to myself that she was and would continue to be a virgin if I had anything to do with it. I initiated nothing with her. For the first six of those months I cannot say nothing had been happening.
The Breakfast issue: LM informed her mother that so long as she swallowed my semen in the morning, she was exempt from any expectation to eat breakfast. Her mother allowed her to get away with it once and all of a sudden it was institutionalized! Morning after morning I would awaken hard and in the process of being milked.
The (lack of) modesty issue: Was it just to see how far she could push? LM started masturbating in front of us, and she started having orgasms while doing it.
Slumber parties and her highness: We had to ban slumber parties at our house. LM started seducing other girls her age – bad enough – but when she got them into a competition to see who could have the most orgasms in the middle of our living room, I put my foot down. I did not need the cops and jail.
Her Highness and the dildo: Toward the end of the twelve months, LM found one of her mother’s dildos. That was the end of her virginity. We immediately got her vaccinated for some std’s.
Once LM was sexually active with others, (even though it was just girls,) I wanted her to stop her Breakfast activities. (It was all that was going on between us). Her mother talked to her about age appropriate friends, age appropriate sex partners (I know it is a nutty concept at age 10 but what can I say) and even though ‘Dad loves you’ no more getting Dad off.
It took a total of six months, but my sexual contact with LM ended and I breathed a sigh of relief. I know you are telling yourself that I started it. I know.
In the mean time, Teach’s interest in offering up her ‘friends’ took an interesting twist about six months into the marriage too. It was not a friend.
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