The Call Girl Phillip's secretary called me from his office around five. A client had come into town unexpectedly and my husband had been given the duty of seeing that Chad, (that was the client's name) got settled at his hotel. I hung up the phone and thought how odd it was that my husband hadn't offered to have Chad join us for supper.

As I sat at my dressing table, I reflected on the conversation I'd just had. Something wasn't right. Then the phone rang again. "Hello?" "Hello, Kris? This is Phillip Blaine." "I know who you are! What's going on down there?" Something was up. Phillip never calls me Kris, just as I never call him Phil. Years of living with him, however, have taught me when it doubt, just play along.

He continued the conversation with this "Kris" person. Finally I understood. Chad must have been sitting right across from him and for some reason, he didn't want the man to know he was talking to me. Phillip continued. "Kris, I've got a friend in from out of town, and I was wondering if you'd be available tonight to help him unwind. You know, show him a good time. Of course, the company will pay your standard fee." "Phillip, I don't have a clue as to what you're doing." "Eight o'clock? That will be fine. We're going to have dinner and then go to the Sheraton for drinks. Why don't we meet there?" "Do you want me to meet you at the Sheraton?" "Good. That will be fine. Oh, and Kris, why don't you wear that black outfit you were in last week when I saw you in Lufkin? That was absolutely stunning!"

"Phillip," I asked, not quite sure what he wanted me to do, but intrigued by the fact that my conversation was not matching up with his, and starting to catch on, "Do you want me to meet you but not let on that we're married?" "Oh yes, that's a great idea. That's very good." "Is this going to be a game?" "I believe it will be. You are available, aren't you?" "I understand. This is a fantasy isn't it?" "Yes it is. You mentioned it to me not long ago if memory serves." "Oh, sweetie, memory isn't the only thing I'll be serving tonight!" "Then it's a date, right? Eight tonight at the Sheraton." "Eight it is. Oh, and ate it will be!" I hung up the phone. I understood exactly what my husband was doing now.

He was fixing me up with Chad, but not as his wife. Tonight I was going to be a call girl, a woman who fucked for money! How exciting! I spent the next three hours getting dressed for the part. I'd just gotten out of the bath when Phillip called. Sitting at my dressing table, I wore only my black lace robe which was opened, revealing my body in the mirror in front of me. I was so excited at the prospect of what laid ahead for the evening!

Phillip and I have a very open sex life, we both fuck whoever strikes our fancy. Many times I've fucked or sucked a total stranger in a restroom of a club, while my husband watched, or in the back seat of our car while my husband drove, watching me in the back seat through the rear view mirror. We have a perfect relationship, he and I. I love to show off, and he loves to watch me do it.

My biggest thrill is sucking off a man while my husband feeds that man's cock into my mouth, often pumping it faster and faster into my waiting lips, knowing that soon the stranger will shoot a load of hot cum on my tongue. Phillip loves to watch men touch me, watch their dicks as they disappear inside my hot pussy. Now he was arranging for me to fuck his client, but instead of this being a regular night of stuffing my pussy with strange cock, my husband was setting me up to be a whore! No wonder I love him so! I wanted to be special tonight. Usually, I would have gotten dressed, gotten ready to go out and meet this new man, this man I knew full well would be pumping his cock inside my cunt before morning.

But first, I wanted to do something I don't usually do. I reached inside my dresser drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors. I started cutting my pussy hairs. I usually keep my cunny trimmed very close, close enough for men to see my clit as it pokes past my lower lips. But tonight, I would have a totally shaved pussy! After cutting as much as I could, I stepped back into the bath, razor and cream in hand. When I was done, I admired my work. My pussy looked like it did when I was ten years old! I knew that in the next few days as the hair grew back I would pay for this little bonus with constant irritation. But for tonight, it would be well worth it.

My pussy was already soaking, and I hadn't even made myself come yet. Reaching down, my hand caressed my now nude pussy. It felt so strange to touch myself there and not feel the light coat of downy softness my husband loves to stroke. But he wasn't home right now, no one was, so it was up to me.

My middle finger on my right hand started to flick across the clit I knew so well. A shudder went through me as my hand worked, slowly at first, than faster, until my finger slipped lower, leaving the ball of my hand to rub the clitoris. My finger had slipped inside me, pushing higher, trying to reach that place that Phillip always touches. As I continued to sit on the edge of the tub, my hand masturbating my cleanly shaved cunt, I lost myself in reflection. My mind was a montage of mental images, of men who'd fucked me, of men I'd sucked and fucked. I thought about Phillip, how he loved to lick my pussy, especially when it was freshly fucked... especially when it was freshly fucked by someone other than him. I was on the verge of coming when the phone rang. Fuck it, I thought. I continued to finger fuck myself as the phone fought for my concentration.

Finally, with my hand still stroking my cunny, I picked up the phone. It was my husband. "Kristi, did you understand what I was trying to say?" "Yes," was the only word I could muster. My orgasm was just seconds away. I wanted to come so badly, but I knew my husband wanted to tell me something. "Okay, listen, I don't have much time. Chad is in the foyer talking to Linda. I told him I'd fixed him up with a very high class hooker. He's really excited about meeting you. If you don't want to do this, just tell me, and I'll get Linda to fuck him. Okay?" I was breathing harder now, and couldn't find the words to say to my husband. In my mind, I was screaming...no, don't give him to her. He's mine! But in reality, I was lost in the orgasm which was about to overtake me. Phillip understood my silence.

He spoke again. "Are you fucking yourself? Is your hand inside your pussy right now?" "Yes." "And are you thinking about tonight?" "Yes." "Are you about to come?" "Yes." "Then do it. Do it now! I want to hear you come over the phone. Come like the slut you are. You are a slut you know? Only a slut would meet her husband's client and fuck him for money." "I know." I could barely whisper. It was time. I was about to come, two fingers now inside me, my husband on the phone telling me I was a whore, and mentally thinking about the man I was going to fuck. I came like a waterfall!

"Oh, baby! I'm........." "Come, bitch! Come now! Come like the whore you are! Or would you rather I put this call on my speaker phone so everyone in the office can hear what a slut you are?" That was all I could take. As my husband listened on the other end, I lost all control and came like I hadn't been touched in months! Afterwards, there was silence. I wasn't sure how long I'd taken to cum, nor if Phillip was still on the other end of the line. When I could speak, all I said was "Phillip," is a very soft, quiet voice. "I'm here sweetie. Was that a good come?" "Oh, yes!" "Well, hurry now. You don't want to be late. Kristi?" "Yes?" "I love you." "I know!" I set the phone back in the cradle and thought about what I would wear.

We don't usually go to the Sheraton. That's probably why Phillip picked it for the meeting. I arrived at 8:15. When I made my entrance, there were few who didn't notice. Wearing the dress my husband requested, I glided across the floor. My four inch heels made me appear taller than my 5'5" frame allowed. The dress, a satin and silk affair is split up the side, about five inches beyond the knee. The casual observer would think I was wearing panty hose. I wasn't. Tonight called for garters and stocking, and little else. I had foregone wearing a bra. I don't need one and besides, in that dress, I couldn't really wear it without it being obvious.

My breasts are 38DD, ride high on my chest, and are capped with what my husband affectionately calls bullet nipples. Those bullet nipples were sticking straight out! The dress had no back, and precious little front. Cut very low, my breasts were displayed to their best advantage. The only way I could have exhibited them more would be if I was topless. For now, this was as good as it could get. The dress has a small troubadour type jacket which allows it to be worn in a more modest setting. I wore the jacket, but didn't buttoned it.

When I entered the room, I immediately spotted Phillip. But he was alone. He looked right at me, but made no attempt to hail me or indicate he wanted me to join him. I walked up to the bar and ordered a drink. This was Phillip's party, and I would wait until he moved it along.

As it turned out, I didn't have long to wait. Before the bartender could fix my drink, my husband's client returned to the table. He was absolutely gorgeous! He must have been 6'6" Phillip is a bit over 6', and Chad was a head taller. And built! He was wearing an open collar shirt, unbuttoned to the third button, allowing his smooth chest to contrast against his white shirt he was wearing. It made his blackness seem all that more dark, more sinister. Did I mention that Chad was Black? His sleeves were rolled up about three turns, and his forearms were pure sex! His face looked like it had been chiseled out of black granite, clean shaven. And I mean clean! He didn't have a speck of hair from his chin up!

I had never been so turned on by the mere sight of any man that I could remember. But this guy, looking like a black Mr. Clean, had my pussy wet! His chest sort of tapered into his pants, pants that by this time I was examining rather closely. I knew I was imagining it, but it looked like I could see the outline of his cock as it ran down his left leg. And imagination or not, I was excited!

Phillip had pointed to me, as if he had just spotted me, and motioned me over. The games were about to begin! "Hey, Kris! Glad you could make it." My husband extended his hand to me, as if I were there on a business deal. Well, I guess, after a fashion, I was. "How nice to see you again, too, Phillip." I shook his hand with my best Vassar girl manners. "Kris, I'd like you to meet my friend, Chad. Chad, this is the woman I was telling you about." "It's so nice to meet you." "It's nice to meet you too. Phillip has been telling me all about you." "All of it nice, I hope." Phillip entered into the conversation at this point. "I hope you don't mind, Kris, but I told Chad about your hopes of becoming a teacher, and I explained to him that after your husband left you, you decided to pursue your education."

What a crock! I understood why Phillip had said those things. I am a teacher, by profession. I teach political science at the university. By telling Chad just a partial bit about me, Phillip had deftly explained why I didn't seem to be your average call girl. Talk about smart! My husband had already provided me with the perfect cover. Just as I was about to take a seat, the band started up. Chad reacted with style and class. "Before we sit, would you care to dance?" "I'd love to dance!" was my reply. "Shall we then?" Before I knew what happened, I found myself with Chad's arms around me, moving me as if I had no substance, no form. I fit into his arms like I'd been made just for that fit! I could feel his muscles as he led me, gently but with a firmness I would come to appreciate before the night was over. I seemed to melt into him. And I felt the hardness running down his left leg. No, that wasn't my imagination. I felt a hard cock! He seemed aware of my recent discovery.

"I'm sorry if I'm pressing you too hard. It's just when a woman as soft as you comes against me, I'm afraid I forget my manners. Is it hurting your leg?" There it was. He was referencing his cock, as if it were just something pushing against me. I looked up at his face and replied. "No, it isn't hurting me. I like the feel of a man as he gets excited." With that, I pushed myself closer to him, and I swear, I could feel his dick harden even more against the softness of my legs. When the dance was over, I could feel he didn't want to let me go. But he did! Damn, I was ready to fuck him right there, on that dance floor, in front of a room full of strangers. And in front of my husband. My pussy was leaking with anticipation. We made our way back to the table. "Where are you staying?" I asked my new friend. "Right here." "How convenient." I smiled. As I sipped my drink, I exchanged looks with my husband. I was ready to get this show on the road, and wondered how I would know when it was time to move on, when someone would suggest that the three of us go up to Chad's room.

I was looking forward to sucking that huge cock, to having it enter my tight cunt, and I was looking forward to watching the expression on my husband's face as this huge black man fucked me. Phillip answered my unasked question. And he answered it with a statement which shook me to my very pussy! "Listen, it's getting late, and I have an early day tomorrow," my husband said looking at his watch. "Why don't I just call it a night. I hope you too won't mind if I leave?"

Leave! Wait a minute, I thought. Where was he going? He wasn't going to leave me alone, was he? We've been swingers a long time, but only rarely did we ever swing alone, and certainly not before discussing it at length! Now my husband, who had already set me up as a prostitute for this stranger, was about to leave me alone. I would be on my own. He wouldn't be there to watch me fuck...and get fucked! I started to panic! But suddenly, I knew I'd be okay. Phillip loves me; he'd never put me in any kind of danger. If it was alright with him that I go upstairs with this black man, if it was alright with him that I get fucked by his client, than it would be okay with me. Still, I thought I should make at least a token effort to include him in the night's festivities.

"Oh, don't rush off. I was hoping I could entertain the both of you tonight." "Ordinarily, Kris, you couldn't get me to leave without a police escort, but I do have a rather busy day tomorrow. I've told Chad that you said you'd have to be back at your place by two and he understands that." "Well, can't you at least stay a little while?" I was almost begging. I couldn't get over the fact that my husband wasn't going to be with me. "No, I really can't." "You're not afraid to be with me, alone, are you Kris?" Chad asked. "Oh, no, it's not that. It's just that..." I really didn't know what to say. Chad smiled at me and reached inside his jacket that was lying over the unoccupied chair. He withdrew an envelope and handed it to me.

"Phillip said your usual rate was three hundred dollars for four hours. I hate to sound so business like, but maybe that will make you feel more comfortable." I looked inside the envelope. There were five one hundred dollar bills! I looked back at Chad. "I don't mind being overcharged," he said with a grin. "Well, then, that settles it. I'm off." With that, my husband stood, shook hands with Chad, winked and said under his breath, "Enjoy yourself, pal. And don't wear it out!" And he was gone! I watched my husband walk out the door and then turned to Chad. I had no idea what to do next.

"Are you ready?" he asked. "Yes. I suppose so." I was still a bit shaken, but I put on a good front. I stood, picked up my purse and smiled at the man who had bought me for the night. "Yes," I said, "I'm ready." As I turned to go, Chad touched my arm. Nodding toward the table, he softly said, "Ah, Kris, you forgot the envelope." I felt like an idiot. Here I was, supposedly a high priced whore, and I'd left five hundred dollars sitting on the table! "Sorry. I'm just a bit nervous." What a stupid thing to say! But Chad didn't comment. After I put the envelope in my purse, he took me by the arm and led me out the door of the lounge, the same door my husband had taken a few moments ago. Only I didn't turn right, out the other set of doors and to my car as my husband had. Instead, I turned left, out toward the elevator, and toward the room where I was about to be royally fucked!

While we waited for the elevator, Chad seemed to be the perfect gentleman. He chatted about the humidity, and the heat. I was sort of relieved that he didn't carry the hooker/trick routine on in the lobby. But still, a white woman such dressed like I was, standing next to a black man like Chad was enough to cause a lot of heads to turn. Just as the elevator bell rang, indicating that the door was about to open, Chad reached his arm out and pulled me closer to him. He leaned down to me and whispered, "Grab my dick!" I don't know what came over me, I mean, we were in a public hotel, people walking all around, looking at us, and...to this day I don't know why I did it, but I did. I reached down, between his legs, and gave his cock a s-l-o-w rub, running my hand down the full length of his now steel hard dick! I felt so absolutely wicked! The door opened and we entered the elevator. I didn't look up, half afraid someone had seen my whorish behavior...and half afraid they hadn't! I was a whore for the night, I told myself, to act like slut. If this guy wanted to fuck me in the lobby, well, I guess I'd just drop my panties right there!

But Chad other plans. As soon as the elevator door closed, he turned to me and said, "Take it out." "Take what out?" "My cock, bitch. Take it out of my pants." He spoke so matter of factly, that I wasn't sure if he meant right then, or in the room. I hesitated for a moment thinking about his order. I guess he didn't care for that, because he reached over and pushed the stop elevator button. It did, and he repeated his command. "I said, take my cock out of my pants. You have a hard time hearing?" "I didn't know you meant right now." He didn't reply. But he didn't push the start button either, so I figured, what the hell. I stepped in front of him and unzipped his pants. I don't remember a zipper ever being that long before. I know it came down instantly, but at the time, it seemed like several seconds elapsed from the time I first found the zipper tab and the time it was totally down. "Now, take it out." I did. Reaching inside his pants, I wasn't sure if I had hold of his cock or a snake. Whatever it was, it was big...and it was moving! When my hand came out of his pants, so did the biggest, blackest cock I can ever remember handling. And somehow, I knew it wasn't fully erect yet. I soon found out how unerect it was. By the time I fully experienced him, I'd know what a cock could really be like. But at that moment, I was still to find out.

Once it was outside his pants, I looked up at his lust glazed face. "You know what to do." I did know. Dropping to my knees, still inside the elevator stopped between the ground and the first floor, I took his dick into my mouth! My jaws were open wide, but not wide enough. The head fit inside my cheeks, and unceremoniously, he pushed another two inches in after it. I thought I would die from lack of air. But I'd sucked big cocks before, and I made myself relax. Soon I was sucking him without difficulty, but the damn thing was growing, growing between my lips. I had just established a rhythm to my sucking when he leaned forward a bit. And the elevator starting moving. He had pushed the start button again. I figured he wanted me to stop, and began to back off his giant cock. I figured wrong. Using his two huge hands, my black master just held my head in place as the elevator continued its journey to the sixth floor. Within a few seconds I heard the door open. And I heard a gasp from the couple standing in the hall in front of us.