Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, mt/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Reluctant, Coercion, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Slut Wife, Wife Watching, MaleDom, Spanking, Light Bond, Swinging, Gang Bang, Black Male, White Female, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Sex Toys, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Size, Public Sex, Prostitution, Porn Theatre,
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A young woman is coerced into a sexual relationship with her husband's dominant supervisor. It turns out to be...well, maybe you should read it and find out.
Sometimes it's something you do that gets you into trouble. Sometimes you get in trouble for not doing something you should have done; put your foot down for example, be the adult in the room.
Rob and I met just before the beginning of our junior year of high school when his family moved to our small town. All the girls, myself included, thought he was so hot. More than a few of them were jealous of me when we started dating not long after he moved in. I had quite an advantage, though. His family bought the house next door to mine. I saw him first and since our families quickly became friends I saw him the most.
I had another advantage, too. Rob needed help with a subject I was doing quite well in, French. We spent so much time together it was all but inevitable we'd start dating. It wasn't love at first sight, though just like all the other girls in school I was infatuated with Rob. I especially liked that he was quiet. It isn't that he was shy. He seemed to exude confidence. He was popular with the other boys even though, without seeming aloof or arrogant, he always seemed to remain above them. He never seemed to be a part of the sophomoric pranks and immature behavior that typifies males up until the age of ... oh, I don't know, about a hundred.
I've always been kind of quiet myself. So I was getting kind of tired of pushy, loudmouth, teenage boys. Rob seemed so much more mature than the other boys, though as I got to know him better I came to realize he isn't perfect. He has his own insecurities. He's just very good at keeping them to himself.
He didn't say much and he wasn't a swaggering asshole like so many of the other guys. He could have been. He wasn't a wimp. Not by any means. He was an outstanding athlete. He seemed to excel in every sport. His picture seemed to be on the front page of every issue of the school paper and it wasn't unusual to see him featured in the city newspaper, either on the sports page or in an article about one of the many civic minded or charitable activities in which he was always taking part.
Rob and I quickly discovered we have a lot in common. The guys all seem to think I'm pretty good looking, too. I was active in several sports and as a result I was in very good shape. My shoulder length natural blonde hair framed my face perfectly. My body had emerged on the other side of puberty in excellent condition. My breasts grew to a firm, pert C cup that the guys found hard to ignore. That bothered me at first. It sometimes seemed as though every male not being led around by a seeing eye dog was staring at my boobs. I was very self conscious for a while. But as I left puberty behind and grew more confident I found that I enjoyed being admired by the guys as long as they were cool about it. And as I already mentioned, I've always been kind of quiet and a bit shy. I thought the two of us made a good couple.
We didn't go steady, not at first. We both dated other kids off and on throughout most of our junior year. Things didn't really heat up between us until just before the start of summer vacation between our junior and senior years. We spent nearly all our time together that summer. That was when we started to really fall in love.
That was also when I finally decided I'd held onto my virginity for long enough. It wasn't a sudden decision. There were a lot of fiery hot make-out sessions leading up to that decision. Please don't misunderstand; it isn't as though Rob was pressuring me. I suppose he was as horny as any other teenage boy. But to be honest, I think I was, too.
I was certain I was ready by the time everything seemed to come together at the perfect time and the clothes started coming off. I hadn't really planned it. I didn't wake up one morning and say to myself that today is the day. But I'd been anticipating that it wouldn't be long. I was already taking birth control pills.
Rob turned out to be a very capable lover. He would never say, so I was never certain if he was also a virgin when we first made love. If he wasn't he was nearly as inexperienced as I was. But with his passionate kisses and his gentle, sensuous touch he kept me in a nearly constant state of arousal. As often as not, when I undressed for bed at night after a date with Rob my panties were soaking wet.
Rob and I might as well have been married through the last few months of our junior year and our entire senior year. We were seldom apart. And once I gave in and we made love for the first time the flood gates were open. We couldn't keep our hands off of each other after that. As far as I was concerned, sex was every bit as good as the rumors made it out to be ... and then some! I was just as apt to instigate something as he was.
I know girls who think sex is "okay." They can take it or leave it. Or they enjoy it but even so they can take it or leave it, like it's nice but maybe not worth all the effort. Not me. From the very beginning, from the time I lost my virginity I loved making love with Rob. There wasn't much I wasn't willing to try, either. We were perfect together and proved it as often as we could until we graduated. The fun didn't stop there. Much to the chagrin of both sets of parent's we married six weeks after we got out of high school. We had to wait until I turned eighteen because my parents wouldn't give their permission for us to marry.
There were a lot of cross words exchanged at my house when my parents found out I was making no effort to attend college but was instead marrying Rob.
Things were tough starting out. We both had a little money saved up. But it wasn't really enough to start our new life together. We really struggled. My parents and I expected that with some student aid, a few loans and a good shot at a scholarship I'd go to college. I'd saved up some money with that goal in mind. But when the time came I didn't want to go to college. I wanted to be Mrs. Rob Rogers. It wasn't just that we didn't want to wait to get married. I had no desire to struggle to get by for four years with the only thing I knew for certain I could count on when, or if I got a degree in four years was that I would have amassed a huge student loan debt.
Another factor I never shared with anyone was that, although I don't believe I suffered from a lack of self esteem, I couldn't really see myself as a professional, a manager, an executive. I may have been shortsighted but for someone like me I just didn't think the right path was waiting on tables for four years in order to learn a whole lot of thinks I'll never need.
Rob, on the other hand, never intended to go to college. He isn't dumb or anything. Quite the opposite, he's very intelligent. But he hates school. He did reasonably well, even in French class with help from me. But he did have a problem. Even when I would help him study and he knew the material backwards and forwards he always did poorly on exams. It was as though he would choke up whenever he had to take a test. He said that his mind would suddenly go blank, especially on a pop quiz. So right from the start it was his intention to find a good job and work his way up to middle management in a good company.
We talked about goals almost from the beginning of our relationship. Admittedly ours weren't very lofty. We knew we'd never be rich. But we didn't see any reason why we couldn't live quite well and be happy without trying to set the world on fire.
Our timing sucked. The economy tanked just weeks after graduation. Eight years earlier, America elected a moron for a president because they thought he'd be a nice guy to go out and have a beer with. Unfortunately, half the country still doesn't see the need for a president with an actual brain.
Despite the high jobless rate in our area we both managed to find jobs. But they weren't the challenging, well paying, upwardly mobile jobs leading toward careers in middle management we envisioned. I took a minimum wage job with no benefits doing data entry. It turned out to be every bit as exciting as it sounds.
Rob had a stroke of luck when, through the efforts of a friend of an uncle who has some influence in the industry, he was hired on at Porter Electronics and Machine Shop, a local plant producing electronic components and small parts, primarily for the aviation industry. Their business has been skyrocketing thanks to the new aircraft assembly plant that just opened up out by the airport.
Rob isn't actually qualified for the job. But they hired him, gave him a little on-the-job training and put him on the line.
Between the two of us we were able to afford to rent a small house and with a little careful shopping we furnished it without having to go into debt. We were happy but we weren't living the highlife.
I suppose I should qualify that last statement. I was happy with Rob and I thought we had the perfect marriage. But I hated my job. It was boring as hell and they treated all of us data entry people like we weren't quite human. The coffee maker got more respect than we did. Not a lot of time passed before I started wishing I'd put marriage on hold and gone to college first. My conscience bothered me for harboring those thoughts but the life we were living was no one's dream.
And then it got worse. After only four months there were layoffs where I work. I was one of the first to be let go since I was one of the last to be hired. After that we had to cut back on our already tight budget even more. We ate a lot of spaghetti, meatloaf, and any one of a hundred simple meals I learned to make from macaroni. Even basic cable was unaffordable, as was internet access. We watched only the channels we could pick up with a rabbit ears antenna. We never went out for a meal or a movie. We used the air conditioner only when we absolutely couldn't stand not to. You get the idea; true poverty.
I spent all of my free time looking for another job. Anyone who has been unemployed for a while knows how devastating that can be to your self esteem.
Rob was nearly as unhappy at his job as I was at mine when I had one. First of all, it didn't pay nearly as much as you might expect from a job of that nature. But that wasn't the worst of it for him. The people are divided up and work in teams of five or six people each at his plant. Rob's team leader is apparently not the nicest guy to work for. He and the other men on the team all pick on Rob. He gets all the dirtiest jobs and they're always playing jokes on him or even worse, ignoring him.
I began to notice a change in Rob not long after he started working. His self confidence, one of the things I admired about him from the very beginning, quickly began to disappear. Something about his job was doing that to him. I was very concerned but I didn't know what to say to restore his self confidence.
One day he came home from work and told me he'd been invited to join the guys on his team for their monthly nickel, dime and quarter poker game on Friday night. On the one hand, this would give him a chance to socialize with his teammates and hopefully get on better terms with them. The problem would be carving twenty dollars out of our budget for the buy-in and a few more dollars for refreshments.
I understand the need for him to ingratiate himself with his co-workers. It will make his work life easier and eventually it will, hopefully, make it easier for him to advance. It's still his goal to eventually work his way up to a management position.
I assured him I understood and we agreed to take twenty-five dollars from what little remains of our savings for the game. The ante was upped, so to speak, when he came home the following evening and informed me that he has good news and bad news. The bad news is that we'll be hosting the game. I started to panic but he informed me the good news is the men will be supplying all the refreshments. We won't have to provide anything but a room and a table.
The following evening we put the leaf in our small kitchen table and set out six chairs. Rob's teammates began showing up just before six and I finally got to meet them all. They struck me as a pretty rough bunch, rude and crude. But they were polite enough when I was in the room. I have to say, though, that some of the remarks I overheard them making about Rob seemed cruel. It isn't any wonder his self esteem has suffered from being around those men.
I noticed a change come over Rob as soon as the men began arriving. He seemed to get smaller and less confident. He started to remind me of a shy young boy in the company of grown men. I had to bite my tongue to keep from ordering those men out of my house. I couldn't stand to see my husband this way!
Josh, the team leader, is a tall, ruggedly handsome man in his early fifties with a pretty high opinion of himself. He gave me the impression he was making an effort to keep his natural arrogance under control, at least until he gets to know me better. He wasn't very successful. I couldn't look at his face and not think, "That man's a prick!"
The men sat down and began to play. I played hostess. I put the case of beer they brought in the refrigerator and poured the snacks they provided into bowls. After that I spent most of my time in the bedroom, only coming out every twenty minutes or so to check on the men.
As the night progressed some of the men got pretty flirty but they kept it clean ... more or less. It was just guys having fun and I wasn't offended by the sometimes outrageous comments they made. I'd laugh or smile and let their mildly offensive remarks go without responding. I'm still the basically shy girl I was when I was growing up. I guess in some ways I'm still growing up. I only just turned eighteen a few months ago.
The game was scheduled to break up at one in the morning. When I went out to check on them just before midnight the men insisted I join them for a beer. Josh said they feel sorry for me being locked up in my room all evening. It's obvious by the way they're behaving and the things they're saying that they've all been drinking beer all evening but I didn't feel threatened by them.
I much preferred being alone in my room and I'm not very fond of beer but I wanted to seem like a good sport for Rob's sake so I helped myself to a beer and stood behind my husband while they played cards. I checked his pile of chips to see how he's doing. He isn't winning but he doesn't appear to have lost much either. I was relieved about that.
After a few minutes the guys began to pretty much ignore me. They returned to the conversation I interrupted when I came into the room. Rob was in the middle of telling his co-workers about the hypnotist we saw at the local comedy club about six weeks ago, back before I lost my job and we stopped going out altogether. The man and his act were hilarious; though I was never totally convinced his subjects were actually in a trance. I suppose it's possible. We watched them do some pretty silly things on stage, things I couldn't imagine anyone doing if they weren't hypnotized.
Unfortunately, Rob couldn't let it go at that. He got into trouble when he told them he had hypnotized me the next night using the same method used by the hypnotist at the show. Of course no one at the table believed him. They all ganged up on him. They accused him of lying in no uncertain terms and seemed pretty upset about being lied to so of course he immediately became defensive, insisting that I had actually been in a trance.
I held my breath and looked around the table at the faces of his co-workers. It such a brazen lie and he isn't fooling anyone. I stood behind his chair, shocked, confused and fighting down my own growing panic. I couldn't understand why he would tell such an outrageous and totally unnecessary lie and I was embarrassed for him. I tried not to let my emotions show but it's obvious everyone at the table knows he's lying.
He did try to hypnotize me the evening after we went to the show. And I played along for a little while, letting him think I was in a trance and obeying all his commands. But later, after I removed all of my clothes and performed a sexy dance for him while supposedly in a trance, and after we made love, I admitted I was just playing along and I was never really in a trance.
Now he's flat out lying, apparently in a misguided attempt to impress these men. And worse yet, they seem to be letting him lie himself right into a corner. For some reason everyone seems to be giving the subject a lot more weight than it deserves. It's just a silly argument. But much to my dismay it is, indeed, turning into an argument.
I kept waiting for Rob to come to his senses and admit to these men that he's just kidding with them. But he didn't! He kept right on lying, embellishing as if he thought that by making his story more incredible they would have to accept it as true. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to witness this. I didn't want to see my husband like this.
It all came to a head when, after Rob dug the hole he was in even deeper by telling them he had even given me a post-hypnotic suggestion so that with a single phrase he could put me back under. Josh became downright belligerent and loudly exclaimed, "Bullshit! I think maybe there's been a mistake, boy. I don't want a damn liar working for me. People depend on the work we do. Lives are at stake. I need to be able to trust the people on my team."
Rob must have known for a while now that he's gone too far. But now he's trapped. He knows it and it shows on his face. He glanced back at me and I saw the fear, the desperation and the embarrassment in his eyes. I suppose he knew he'd made a mistake from the time he opened his mouth and told that silly lie to impress his co-workers. But he didn't know how to back out of it once he got started. To admit it now, though, could quite possibly cost him his job. He feels he has no choice but to stick with his story. He turned to Josh and insisted he's telling the truth.
No one believed him. It's plain to see on all their faces. Josh shook his head and said, "Prove it, boy. Say the words. Put her in a trance."
Everyone is looking at us, looking back and forth between Rob and me. They're all waiting for Rob to admit he was lying. The damn vultures want to see him get fired right here, right now. It's plain to see from the expectant looks on their faces.
I'm terrified. If Rob loses this job we'll have nothing to fall back on. The twenty-five dollars we took out of savings so he could play poker tonight was the majority of our savings. And it would be nearly impossible for him to find another job in this economy, especially when he will no doubt be fired for some trumped up charge that will look terrible on his record.
I found myself holding my breath, waiting to see our future destroyed right before my eyes in the next few seconds. I certainly wasn't expecting what happened. Rob turned in his chair. He looked at me with a pleading look in his eyes and in a quavering voice he said, "Green clouds!"
I gaped at him. As a result of my shocked expression I suppose I may have resembled someone slipping into a trance. I know what he wants me to do. He wants me to act as though green clouds is the trigger phrase that puts me in a trance and now I'm supposed to behave the way those people on stage behaved when they were hypnotized.
I don't know what to do. I mean, I saw those people at the comedy club and the way they acted under hypnosis. But that silly show staged for laughs constitutes my entire fount of knowledge on the subject. So far I've done nothing but stand here like a moron and gape. But that seems to be enough to satisfy Rob. He turned to Josh and asked, "Are you satisfied?"
Josh is justifiably skeptical, as are the other men at the table. I don't blame them. I don't think there's any way Rob can pull this off, not even if I do go along!
A long, uncomfortable moment passed before Josh replied, "Hell no! That don't prove nothing! She's just standing there! Make her do something!"
Rob is grasping at straws now. He must think he has a chance of pulling this off and saving his job. He didn't sound quite as scared when he asked, "Like what? What do you want me to make her do?"
Josh thought about it for a moment before he grinned like a dirty old man and said, "It's gotta be something she wouldn't do if she wasn't in a trance. Tell her to show us her tits."
Hopefully the sound of my shocked gasp was covered by the chorus of encouraging comments from the other men.
Rob wasn't faking his anger when he exclaimed, "Fuck you! You know better than that!"
Josh chuckled and said, "Okay, okay, calm down, boy. I got another idea. Make her put on her sexiest bikini and be our waitress until the game breaks up."
I waited for Rob to tell him to go to hell. But the words never came. He's actually thinking about it!
Before he could agree, Josh added, "And I get to pick the bikini."
Except to close my mouth I haven't moved or spoken since Rob spoke that stupid phrase a few minutes ago. I'm torn between willing him to refuse Josh's outrageous demands and praying he'll accept so we can get this horrible situation over with and get on with our lives. Our future is hanging by a very slender thread.
I dread having to do what they're suggesting. It's such a degrading thing. But I quickly convinced myself that I can walk around in a bikini for an hour if that's what it will take to get us out of this stupid mess. Degrading myself, parading around like a piece of meat for the amusement of these awful men seems to be my only option.
Rob turned back to me with that pleading look still in his eyes. His voice quivered with fear when he said, "Renee, take Josh to our bedroom and show him your bikinis. Put on the one he selects and come back out here."
I know I have no choice. I can't imagine anything more humiliating than what they're demanding of me. What he's asking of me puts me in a position that isn't all that far removed from being a stripper! And as intolerable as this degrading situation has become, it suddenly occurred to me that it's going to get much worse in a minute or two. I just remembered something I wasn't considering when I told myself I can allow these men to embarrass me like this if I have to in order to save Rob's job; our only source of income. In one of the shops we visited on our brief honeymoon in a nearby coastal town, Rob bought me a sexy bikini that's so nearly nonexistent I refused to wear it except when I wore it for him in our room or on our balcony. I have to believe Rob has forgotten about that suit, too. I already know which of my half dozen bikinis Josh is going to choose. I just don't know if I can force myself to do what they want me to do. I'm no prude but I have my limits. Well, maybe I am a little bit of a prude, at least when it comes to performing in front of strange men.
I'm not sure how long I stood behind Rob's chair with my mind churning furiously. It was long enough that I could tell from the impatient expression on Josh's face that things were about to come to a head again. I know I can't let that happen. I turned, trying to keep a vacant, trance-like expression on my face. I began walking slowly toward my bedroom on rubbery legs.
I heard Josh push his chair back from the table. My ears were attuned to every sound as he stood up and began to follow me. I heard several other chairs scraping across the floor and I began to panic. I was only slightly calmed when Josh said, "You guys wait here. I'll be back as soon as I choose her outfit and we can finish this game."
He followed me down the hall and into my bedroom. I led him to my dresser and opened the drawer where I keep my bikinis. I was still pulling the drawer open when he came up behind me, gripped my left ass cheek in his large hand and growled, "I still don't fucking believe any of this. But I'm willing to be convinced. I'll be watching you, girl."
I flinched when he grabbed my ass. But except for that I didn't move. I didn't dare.
He stood behind me looking over my shoulder. I can feel his warm breath on my neck. Of course he spotted the tiny, nearly obscene bikini Rob bought for me even though it's shoved all the way to the back of the drawer. He pressed his body against mine, reached around me with his unoccupied right hand, pulled it out and held it up. He chuckled in my ear. It was an evil sound that sent chills shooting down my spine.
His lips lightly grazed my ear sending a chill through my body when he almost whispered, "I've got to see you in this! Damn! The guys are gonna love this! And I can't wait to see your dumb-fuck husband's face when you come out with this on. That boy ain't got his head screwed on straight!"
I have to wonder if he isn't right about that.
I felt as though I could finally draw a deep breath when Josh stepped back. He slowly released his firm grip on my ass with obvious reluctance. A long second or two passed before he turned and I finally breathed a sigh of relief when he left the room. He had stood pressing his body against me for such a long, heart stopping moment I was beginning to wonder if he intended to stay and watch me change after all.
I hurried to the door and closed it but I didn't feel any safer. I feel like a trapped animal. I stood, leaning back against the door with my heart racing and my blood pounding in my ears. I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. There isn't anything to think about, not really. I only have two options. I can put that far too revealing bikini on and return to the kitchen almost naked or I can refuse and Rob will lose his job. There isn't much to choose between there; abject humiliation or abject poverty.
I think my mind kind of went numb at that point in order to avoid thinking about what it will be like when I return to the kitchen in my tiny string bikini. I undressed in a fog and I forced myself to put the little bikini on. It doesn't cover much. There are two little patches of cloth that only just cover my nipples but leave the rest of my breasts exposed. A third triangle covers about half of my pubic mound. Fortunately I trimmed my pubic hair down to nothing but a little landing strip a few months ago. Rob likes it so I've been keeping it that way. It's low maintenance and I enjoy pleasing him.
As bad as that sounds, as revealing as the front half of the bikini is, the back is even worse. It pretty much doesn't exist! My ass is totally bare and the visual effect is all the more obscene because the areas of my body normally covered by my much more conservative bikinis have never been exposed to the sun. They're pure white. There remains an awful lot of blindingly white flesh surrounding those little patches of fluorescent pink material in the front, too.
I looked at myself in the mirror and cringed. Now that I'm wearing the suit and looking at my reflection in the mirror; now that I'm seeing what those men will see I'm not sure I can make myself go out there. Doing what those men are requiring of me in order to maintain this farce is humiliating. It would have been nearly impossible for me to return to that room in a normal bikini and prance around like an empty headed sex object. But this!
The words, "I'm not that kind of girl" are playing over and over in my head. But now it looks like I'm about to become "that kind of girl."
I found myself on the verge of tears as I contemplated what I'm about to do. I struggled to control my emotions. A woman in a trance wouldn't go back out there with tears running down her cheeks. I tried to tell myself that there are women who wear this exact same suit or even less to the beach. All the important areas are more or less covered. No matter how degrading this experience is going to be, at least I know Rob won't let it get out of hand. Or at least he won't let it get more out of hand than it already is.
I took a deep breath and opened the bedroom door. I heard nothing. The men are waiting for me to return in total silence. No one out there is saying a word. I know that when I step out of the hallway every man sitting at the kitchen table will be staring in my direction. I reminded myself that I have no choice. I struggled to paste a passive, trance-like expression on my face and began putting one foot in front of the other.
The scene when I stepped out of the hallway was just exactly what I expected. All six men were facing me with expectant expressions on their faces that struck me as more than a little bit evil. In that moment I stopped being someone's wife or even a person. I became an object of lust. As soon as they saw my nearly naked body the men turned into barely restrained, primitive animals. In that moment they devolved into creatures. They were not much more civilized than a pack of wolves. And I have become prey.
There were a few lewd comments as I crossed the room and stood where the living room turns into the kitchen eating area. The kitchen and living room in our small house are really just one not very large room set apart only by the flooring. The carpet turns into linoleum to indicate the separation between the rooms.
I know I'm blushing furiously. My entire face is burning. My neck and upper chest feel prickly. But I can't control it. I can only hope the men know even less about hypnosis than we do and won't find it suspicious that I seem aware and embarrassed ... or won't care.
Except for those few initial lewd comments there's no sound but the loud breathing of the men who are staring at me as though they've never seen a nearly naked girl before. The silence continued until Josh commanded, "Get me a beer, Renee."
I almost glanced at Rob to see what I should do. But I stopped myself. I'm not certain I want to see any clues to what's going through his mind at the moment. I turned and walked to the refrigerator, excruciatingly aware of the eyes now staring at my naked ass.
I made believe I didn't hear someone exclaim breathlessly, "Shit! Check out that fine ass!"
Someone else said, "I can't tell if I like her more coming or going!"
One of the other men snickered and said, "I'd love to look down and see her coming."
That made everyone laugh; everyone but Rob and me. I fought back the tears of shame welling up again and I fought just as desperately to retain my passive façade. The air is thick with testosterone. I can almost taste it and it scares the hell out of me. I'm suddenly a lot less confident that my husband can control these men in this highly charged situation.
I swear I can actually feel the lustful gaze of those very aroused men on my ass. It got worse when I was forced to bend over to reach for a beer which, of course, is on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator.
As I turned to deliver the beer to Josh my eyes passed over Rob's face. I'm happy to see that he's as embarrassed as me. But that doesn't mean he isn't in trouble. It's going to be a very long time before I forgive him for putting me in this horrible situation.
Six sets of male eyes focused on my breasts as I returned with Josh's beer. My breasts are totally unsupported in the tiny top I'm wearing. With every step I take they wobble just enough to draw everyone's attention. I can't avoid seeing the lustful, needy way the men look at me and once again I'm uncomfortably aware that there's just no way Rob will ever be able to control his inebriated co-workers if things start to get out of hand. I realize for the first time that I'm not all that far from being gang raped!
I held out the beer I was carrying but Josh took his sweet time taking it from me. His eyes scanned my body while long, uncomfortable seconds ticked by. I was long past feeling like a piece of meat when at last he took the beer from my hand and one of the other men asked me for, or I should say, ordered me to get him a beer.
The same humiliating process was repeated until each of the men had a fresh beer. One of the men reached out when I was handing him his beer and grabbed my ass instead. Before either Rob or I could react, Josh calmly said, "I told you, Terry. No touching."
I was somewhat relieved to learn that even if Rob can't control these men, Josh apparently will. Terry took his sweet time but he slowly and very reluctantly let his hand fall away from my exposed ass and took the beer from my hand.
The men went back to playing poker after they'd all been served. I would have returned to my position behind Rob's chair but Josh pointed out the place he wants me to stand. I spent the next half hour standing where all the men had a good view of my nearly naked body. The game finally broke up as planned at one in the morning. But it was another twenty minutes before they cashed in their chips and finished their drinks. Only then did they reluctantly leave.
As all those rude, crude, horny men made their exit I began to breathe a little easier. I felt my anxiousness increase again when Josh remained behind after the others all left. He walked around me as if he's in the market for another man's wife and he's trying to decide whether or not to buy me. I could actually feel how badly he wants to put his hands on my body and it was making me ill. I'm afraid he may try to somehow corner Rob into letting him have sex with me now that the three of us are alone.
As all the horrible possibilities ran through my brain I began having trouble breathing. Josh continued to circle me slowly. He's so close to me that it feels like he's taking my oxygen. Finally he said to Rob, "I'm not totally convinced yet. I'm no expert on hypnotism. I suppose people can be put in trances if a guy knows what the hell he's doing. I find it hard to believe it's so easy that any fool can do it.
"I gotta say, though, I didn't think she'd do it. She doesn't strike me as the kind of girl who would go along with a stupid stunt like this if she had a choice."
He's right about that! But even though he seems to realize it's just an act I have to keep it up for a few minutes longer. It's hard, though. It's closing in on two o'clock in the morning and I'm beginning to wonder if he's ever going to leave. He stared at me for a moment longer before he finally said goodnight to Rob. He turned toward the door but halfway there he stopped and turned back. He grinned at Rob and asked, "How do you bring her out of it?"
Rob was caught off guard. I suppose his brain is just as numb as mine. I don't think he's said half a dozen words since I came out wearing this awful bikini. But he managed to think back to the show we saw at the comedy club and he stuttered, "I ... I ... j ... j ... just tell her that ... when I snap my fingers she'll wake up."
Josh's snide grin widened and he demanded, "Show me."
Rob came closer and said, "Close your eyes, Renee."
I was more than happy to obey that order.
He said, "When I snap my fingers you'll come out of your trance."
That isn't exactly the way the hypnotist did it. But I guess Josh won't know the difference.
He snapped his fingers and I opened my eyes. I looked at Rob. I looked at Josh. Then I looked down at my nearly naked body as though I were surprised to find myself dressed this way and ran from the room.
I still don't think Josh is convinced. But I don't care. The horrible ordeal is over and, hopefully, Rob's job is secure. Now to put Rob in his place!
Rob locked the door after Josh left and hurried after me. I was all set to tear into him as soon as he entered the room. But I underestimated the depth of my anger. I turned to face him and suddenly I was so furious I couldn't even speak.
Before I found my voice he stood there looking like a little boy who has been caught doing something naughty and said, "I'm sorry. I know you're mad and I don't blame you. I don't even know how it happened! I just..."
"YOU LIED!" I screamed. "THAT'S HOW IT HAPPENED!
"You made up a stupid lie, an outrageous story to impress your awful friends and they caught you! You nearly lost your job! Instead, in order to save your ass, I just spent the most humiliating hour of my life strutting around all but naked for the amusement of your buddies from work! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?!"
I was getting more worked up as I went on and I realized it. Before I made things worse I grabbed his pillow and threw it at him. I took a couple of deep breaths and forced myself to calm down. Then, in as steady a voice as I could manage I said, "You're sleeping on the couch until I can stand to be in the same room with you again. What the hell would we have done if you lost your job?! What if those horny old men wanted to do more than look at me?! They did you know. Those horny old goats wanted to fuck me. All five of them wanted to fuck your wife, Rob! Does that make you happy? Are you proud? Do you suppose you're going to be a big man at work now that those men have all had a good look long at your wife's ass?!"
He started to speak, I assume to apologize again. I struggled not to scream when I told him to shut up and leave me alone. I've never been so angry in my life and at the moment I can't stand to look at him. It's best for both of us that he get out of my sight right now.
With his head hanging down like a despondent little puppy he turned and left the room. I slammed the bedroom door behind him, tore off the bikini I was forced to wear in order to show off my body like a common stripper and curled up under the covers. I assumed it would take me hours to calm down and get to sleep but as soon as I turned the light out I started crying like a baby and before I knew it I cried myself to sleep.
Unfortunately, the events of this evening followed me into my sleep. A string of the most disturbing dreams I've ever experienced was waiting for me as soon as I lost consciousness. I'm not sure they can be called nightmares but it seemed as though I spent the entire night in front of those strange men. In my dreams, though, there had been no bikini. I was naked and they took advantage of every opportunity to touch me. I never actually had sex in that long, disturbing series of dreams. But I doubt if it would have been any more humiliating if I did.
Rob tried to apologize to me again in the morning. It's much too soon. The extreme humiliation I suffered because of his foolishness is still too fresh in my mind. I didn't respond to his halting attempt at an apology. I just glared at him and he shut his mouth in mid sentence.
Those were the only words that passed between us that weekend. I spent most of Saturday and Sunday in our bedroom. I don't know how he spent his time and I don't care. He slept on the couch both nights. When I awoke Monday morning he had already left for work. He left a note on the kitchen table, apologizing once again for putting me in the position he did.
It didn't do my mood a lot of good that I spent another frustrating day looking for a job in the want ads and making phone calls, each ending with the same result; another chip out of my self esteem when I was told that I wasn't qualified for the job.
I hadn't entirely let it go by the time Rob came home from work that evening. And my mood didn't improve when I saw his face when he walked in the door. I knew his co-workers were probably ragging on him all day about the show I was forced to put on for them Friday night, no doubt in the most disgusting, degrading terms. Just thinking about it made me furious all over again.
Dinner, such as it is, was ready and on the table. We ate together. After we sat down to eat I asked him what the men who were here for the poker game said about me today. He's obviously happy I'm talking to him again. But he isn't happy with my choice of subject.
He blushed, shrugged and became very evasive. He stalled for a long moment before he finally replied, "They just told me how beautiful you are ... how hot they thought you looked."
I knew damn well they had more than that to say. I wasn't born yesterday. I know how men act, how they think, the kinds of things they like to say and do when the subject is women. There's no doubt in my mind Rob was assailed with crude comments about his nearly nude wife all day long. But there's nothing either of us can do about it now. I have to make myself let it go or this humiliating event is going to have a lasting effect on my marriage. I'm still mad at my husband. But that doesn't change the fact that I love him.
I forced myself to calm down a little. Most of the meal was eaten in silence. We watched a little television together after dinner. When it was time to go to bed I relented and let him sleep in the bed with me. But I warned him that if he so much as tries to touch my elbow I'll break his arm. It's going to be a while before I calm down enough to make love again.
The problem is, cutting him off is as much a punishment for me as it is for him. I love sex. I've always been a very sexual person. Rob has often said that I have the sexual appetite of a man and I take that as a compliment. It's true. I do. I love being touched and I love touching him. I enjoy everything about sex. Unlike many of my girlfriends, I love performing oral sex on my husband almost as much as I enjoy it when he does it for me.
I feel as though I have to continue to punish him, though. It's too soon to let him off the hook. I need to be sure Rob will never put me in another humiliating position like the one he put me in on Friday night. Not ever again. My face still burns from the humiliation every time I think about parading around like a prostitute trying to drum up business in that tiny bikini for the amusement of the slightly unsavory horny old men with whom he works.
I calmed down a little more every day as the week progressed. Our relationship still isn't back to normal. When we speak our conversations are strained and I'm still withholding sex from him. But we're beginning to relax a little when we're in the same room now. Then came Thursday afternoon.
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