The boss stopped me in the hall shortly after lunch. "Need a favor," he said, unsmiling. He was a big man as well as a rich man, owned two-thirds of the stock I had heard, multi-millionaire.
"Sure," I said, "do what I can."
"Want to borrow your wife for the weekend. Come into my office and I'll explain." He walked away quickly.
"Do what?" I said, following him. He sat and then so did I, facing him across his huge desk.
"My damn wife's out of town, visiting parents in Denver or some godforsaken place. Need a pretty girl to take around. Your wife's pretty, right?"
I nodded. She was and she is actually getting better as she matures. My wife is only nineteen, but she's been modeling since she was eleven or twelve, catalogues and swimsuits mostly.
"Well?" he asked, "need a decision. Hate to hire one of those pros."
"Have to ask her," I said. "I don't mind."
"Good, good. She ought to do what you tell her, understand. Here, show her this. It's a present, $9,000, don't have to report it. Three days, three a day. OK?"
He pushed a fat envelope across the desk, and I could see it was packed full of bills, hundreds.
"When would you need her?"
"This evening until Sunday morning, say lunchtime Sunday. Got this meeting in Baltimore, several receptions, parties, that kind of thing. Tell her to bring a couple of fancy dresses."
"Tonight?" I asked, confused.
"So we can get to know each other. We'll take the train; hate to fly."
I nodded. "I'll call her, ask her."
"No damn it, tell her. Wife ought to do what her husband says. How often do you poke her, boy?"
"Sir?" I just blinked at him.
"Sex. How many times a week to you mount that hot piece of yours?"
"You planning to, to, you know, have sex with her?"
"Of course. Any woman that looks like your wife ought to be poked three times a day. Might let a couple of my buddies use her too, just for exercise."
"Gee, I don't know, sir." As far as I knew, I was the only man to enjoy my wife. I was pretty sure she was a virgin when we married.
"Come on, boy, you want to get along, don't you, climb the ladder? Here's your chance. I'll move you up, first in line for the next assistant job." He chuckled. "Of course, that's only if your little wifey is cooperative."
Damn, I thought, that would double my salary. "OK, sir, I'll tell her."
"Good, good. Bring her here by five. Tell her one small suitcase."
"Ok, Yes sir."
"Get going," he said with a wave, and I left and headed home to the suburbs and our small apartment.
I heard Bobby coming through the door about four o'clock, closed my John Holmes video and squeezed out my little vibrator and shrugged into my see-through top and went to meet him, barefoot and eager. I had creamed once with my Rabbit, but I really needed what he had.
He kissed me and hugged me and patted my butt. "Hi sweetie. Need a favor."
"Me too. I need your big cock in my little pussy." I took his hand and led him back to our small bedroom.
"No, honey, don't have time. Boss want to borrow you for the weekend. I told him you'd do it." He handed me a fat envelope. "Look."
It was full of hundred dollar bills, dozens and dozens of them.
"Nine thousand bucks, tax free," he said, and I kissed him and tongued him deeply, grinding my belly into his big cock.
"Just a quickie," I begged, my hands full of money. "I really need it."
He shook his head. "Pack a couple of your sexy dresses and some high heels, party clothes."
I blinked at him.
.... There is more of this story ...