Julie enjoyed a pampered life as a normal, modest (though highly sexed), suburban housewife. But now that all was changing, possibly forever, after her husband Brad suddenly lost his high paying corporate job. At first neither of them felt worried. Surely a man with his experience would easily find a comparable, if not superior, job before too long. In the meantime they made the most of their increased leisure time together. With a pandemic raging around them, much of that time was spent indulging themselves at home, quite frequently in bed. For them, there was nothing like a good orgasm to banish all of life’s anxieties.

Living well and living frugally had long seemed a contradiction to both Brad and Julie. Money flowed through their hands as quickly as it fell into them. Eventually the spigot began running dry. Weeks turned to months, with just a few good potential jobs materializing, none of which Brad landed. What little savings the couple once had soon vanished, and one after another of their credit cards maxed out.

Brad would make it to final interviews, but inevitably get edged out.The last time that happened he took it particularly hard. A friend at a firm that was hiring had championed Brad for the position, assuring him that he all but had it in the bag. The final decision came down to Brad and one other applicant, a younger black man who was much newer to the field.

“Well, thank you for the consideration” Julie overheard Brad say into the phone. “Yes, of course, I would love to be notified if another suitable position comes open.” He looks stunned, Jule thought, his face is strangely contorted. “Fucking Nigger” Brad muttered angrily, once the phone call was safely terminated. “No way in hell he’s as qualified as me!”

“Oh Brad” Julie reacted, reaching out to console him. “They made a real mistake not hiring you. You’ll get a better job, just wait and see. I know you’re upset now, but it’ll be OK. I’ve never heard you talk that way before” she added softly. He must really be stressed out, Julie thought to herself. No one they knew used that epithet out loud. They were Democrats.

“I know, I shouldn’t have said that. But Jack told me the guy they gave it to comes off like a smug asshole, like he was owed that job. I earned it and he got it. How do you expect me to feel?”

“Let me fix you a drink” Julie said, walking over to their bar. I need one too, she thought, pouring out two doubles. Brad’s not really a racist, she told herself. We both had black friends in college.

As more bills went unpaid Brad’s self confidence crumbled, until he was reduced to a shadow of his former self. Brad stopped applying for high paying jobs, fearing the seeming certainty of another crushing rejection. Daily he became less sure of himself, which showed up in the bedroom. Sex inside their marriage, which had always been carefree, ceased to be reliable fun, or more to the point, Brad ceased to be reliable. When Julie married Brad she swore to stand by him through thick and thin. Sex wasn’t the glue that held their marriage together, their bond was much deeper than that, but when money was tight during those early years, sex would emotionally sustain them. Lately though Brad.hardly wanted to touch her, let alone make love for hours like they used to.

With each job rejection Brad pulled back further from her embrace.None of it made sense to Julie. She could tell that stress was effecting Brad’s libido, though he denied it and blamed work weariness instead.But sex was more than a physical act to Julie, it confirmed that someone really wanted her. Julie craved the sense of connection and intimacy sex brought her even more than the feeling of Brad’s hard cock inside, though she had to admit that she missed that too. At her center Julie had a void which, since her early adolescence, she desperately sought to fill. Marrying Brad kept that hollowness at bay, for which she was eternally grateful to him. Her married world held reassuring substance for Julie, and Brad’s love for her was tangible But now the emptiness was starting to return.

Three days after a particularly disappointing tryst, Brad informed Julie that he finally had lined up some work, two new jobs in fact, both in the service industry. Neither of them, however, paid well. Between the two he brought home a small fraction of his former income, not nearly enough to make ends meet, and the cumulative long hours they entailed kept Brad away from home, and from Julie, almost all of the time. In her darker moments she wondered if that in fact was why Brad chose those jobs. When her husband got home now late at night, on the days he wasn’t doing an overnight shift, he was always “too exhausted” for sex. In his depression Brad was building a wall around him, with Julie left alone on the other side.

Julie became mired in her own depression. The man she loved was losing interest in her, and their financial crisis had her worried sick, Desperation at last compelled Julie to act. They were falling behind on mortgage payments for their opulent suburban house, and Julie was terrified of losing it. She started looking for respectable employment that would pay her well, but Julie, who had never before worked a day in her life, discovered quickly that she lacked any marketable skills, beyond her talent in bed.

Finding nothing better, she signed on to sell costume jewelry to well off wives in their neighborhood, wildly exaggerating her likely commissions when she broke the news to Brad. Julie knew it would take a miracle for her to earn that much, but she wanted to offer him at least a shred of hope. Something needed to break the downward spiral that now gripped, and virtually neutered, her husband. She would do whatever it took to save their home, If that meant she had to lie, she was lying for them. Julie needed Brad more than ever, but he was slipping beyond her reach. She needed to feel him want her, and she needed her world restored, with Brad again at its center where he always belonged.

“Brad honey” Julie whispered as she slid under the sheets beside him, “Don’t you want to hold me?” It was one of the rare nights when Brad made it home hours before dawn, and she had stayed up for him, As a surprise Julie slipped out of her normal nightgown while she was in to the bathroom. returning minimally draped in a negligee Brad bought her the previous Christmas. When Brad felt particularly horny he often asked her to wear it, jokingly calling it her slutty tennis dress. He then treated her like a total slut when she put it on. It was a game they both liked playing. Julie flicked on the nightstand light before Brad could utter “C’mon, let me see it” the way he always did.

The thinnest of spaghetti straps held up a narrow horizontal swath of pale blue translucent silk that almost covered her nipples, leaving the tops of her areola clearly visible and her cleavage on full display, The contours of her breasts could easily be made out through the fabric. The bottom flared out slightly at Julie’s waist, descending from there in pleats to a point barely below her pussy lips. It had no frills or lace, offering overt exposure instead, with just the minimal fabric necessary to keep it interesting. No wonder he treats me like a whore when I’m wearing this, Julie thought to herself. I guess you can say I’m asking for it. If it pleases him, I am.

“Brad, I miss you baby” she again whispered in his ear. “I waited up for you. Please let me taste you, sweetie” she added while caressing her husband’s shoulder. She used the pet phrase that always resulted in fer face getting stuffed with cock. Not tonight though. Brad faintly murmured something, sounding a thousand miles away, but his body failed to stir. Julie moved to wrap her body around his, looking for some reaction, but then hesitated, before falling back against the mattress, defeated. It wasn’t right to push herself on Brad if he refused to take her on his own.

She had never been one to pleasure herself, not since she was 12 anyway. The nuns who taught Julie left their mark, Their repeated stern admonishments against the evil of masturbation made her evermore uncomfortable with the act. dispute having long since lapsed in her Catholicism. No, Julie needed a man to unlock that pleasure for her. For over fifteen years, since they first met in college, Julie depended on Brad for that.

So she lay there frozen for what seemed like fifteen minutes, though only five had passed. Julie knew what she needed to do, but it seemed so unnatural, Feeling Brad’s warmth pressed up against her thigh, she felt her body responding. If I focus on Brad being here, Julie thought, if I imagine that it’s really him, maybe i can do it.

She flicked the nightstand lamp off again, then silently pulled the sheet back from her side of the bed. Reaching down under it, Julie felt for the box she had hidden there that afternoon. Thank God for the internet and plain brown paper wrappings, she thought to herself when her fingers found it. No way I could have bought this in person. When the mail had arrived Julie furtively opened the parcel but, feeling embarrassed and more than a little ashamed. she quickly stashed it away. Now, removing it it from the packaging, she held her new dildo for the first time. It was much heftier than a real prick, Julie thought, and harder than Brad had ever been. The shape she chose mimicked an erect male circumcised penis, but not too closely. The dildos extolled for being “realistic” creeped her out, the “flesh colored” ones especially, so hers was jet black instead.

God, It’s too big, Julie started to panic when the dildo touched her pussy. She thought she was buying a medium sized dildo, not understanding that everything that vendor sold was intentionally super sized, even their so called “smaller” models. Her new dildo wasn’t one of the longest they offered, nor was it one of the shortest. It was however thicker than most, a fact she failed to take note of in the listing. That made it, to Julie’s anxious eyes, massive. Her husband’s dick was average at best, maybe a tad less so in circumference. He used it extremely well, so Julie had no complaints. But being childless her cunt, as Brad preferred to call it, remained tight, Inserting the large dildo that now pressed up against it would, literally, be a stretch.

It’s too late to stop, Julie knew. Her face was flushed, and her shallow breaths were quickening Rotating the head of the dildo, she began rubbing it against her entrance. Her pussy lips were already moist as they slowly began to part, clearing a path forward for the hard intruder. With her free hand Julie slipped under the top of her negligee, her fingers brushing a turgid nipple standing there at rapt attention. Instantly her clit reacted, and Julie’s faint moan broke the silence in the room. Her nipples were super sensitive, a fact that Brad often used to their mutual advantage.

Now Julie pinched the erect pink bud, triggering her thigh muscles to contract sharply around the black shaft poised to invade her. Using the nail on her index finger, she pressed hard into her nipple’s tender flesh. This time Julie’s reaction was more violent. Her body jerked suddenly as an intense jolt of pain and pleasure seared along the nerves from her nip into her clitoris At that same moment, Julie reflexively thrust the dildo forcefully into her opening, It was all the huge black head needed to overcome any resistance her narrow passage still could muster, and it penetrated Julie with a vengeance, burrowing in one instant several inches up her inflamed newly stretched cunt.

“Ahhh!” an involuntary cry escaped her, which Julie struggled to suppress, biting down hard on her lip. The throbbing of her pussy all but filled her world, but a small part of her still realized that she dare not wake up Brad. Trying to control the panting that caused her chest to heave, Julie lay as still as possible, her mind searching the darkened room for sounds. There was the ticking of a clock that they rarely if ever noticed, and there too, quietly, was the sound of her husband breathing. Brad sounded slightly labored, but that was not unusual, she thought. He had not slept peacefully in months. Finally, after an eternity that lasted at least a minute, Julie’s attention shifted to her pussy again. With both of her hands now wielding her dildo, she imagined that Brad was inside her. Much more slowly this time, she forced the dildo deeper than Brad had ever been.

Her husband lay there in anguish, desperately feigning sleep. He pretended not to hear her when Julie begged for his cock. Now Brad forced himself to stay silent while she satisfied herself without him. I’m fucking shit, he told himself, a worthless piece of shit. What type of man can’t provide for his wife?. She’s fucking selling jewelry so we don’t lose the house, and I can’t even provide a dick hard enough to suck on. If she didn’t still need my shit paychecks she’d be better off without me. Maybe she should find some dude whose cock responds without fucking pills, he said to himself bitterly. Julie needs more...

Just then he felt her shudder when Julie reached a climax. He clenched his teeth while he listened to the panting of his wife, and the faint ticking of the clock.

The next mortgage payment was coming due. There was no way for them to cover it, and they were already two months behind. Julie hid the shortfall from Brad by lying about her commissions, implying they were ample. In reality Julie’s foray into selling jewelry was an utter failure. A check was in the mail, she assured Brad, and that part of it was true, but her total commissions for the month were less than five hundred dollars. They needed at least $900 more, and there was only a week left to find it.

She felt trapped in a nightmare, as if there was a freight train bearing down on her that Julie had no way to stop. She stood on tracks carved from a cliff on a ledge with no room to spare. Below a ravine lay obscured by fog, but the train rushing toward her was clear. Time was running out to jump. But could she?

Her product display sat near the door, She could peddle her jewelry a few nights more, but why? The money wasn’t there for what Julie was offering. Not in the amount she needed, not in the time she had. The only way to raise that money fast was to sell her body. Lots of men pay for sex, Julie told herself, I’m not too old to fuck. The thought turned her face beet red and tied her stomach in knots. Julie never cheated on Brad before, she would never do anything to threaten their marriage. But now that marriage was in peril, and having sex with other men was her only chance to save it.

The jewelry franchise is a bust, but at least it offers me cover, Julie reflected, forcing herself to face the inevitable. That’s how money laundering works, she realized. My own fucking body needs to be laundered. A wan smile flickered for an instant, when her unconscious choice of expletives hit home. I let Brad think I’m out selling necklaces, while I spread my legs to make the mortgage.

With no prior experience with the sexual underworld, and lacking connections to the denizens who inhabit it, Julie wasn’t sure of how to offer herself to men. She ruled out being anyone’s mistress, something Brad’s ex-boss had once shown real interest in. Brad might still have his job had I said yes, Julie thought, though that wasn’t clear at the time. But Julie didn’t want a new man in her life. She belonged to Brad. She needed faceless, paying, total strangers instead; men they would never cross paths with in their normal lives, who would fuck her for cash and expect nothing more.

In time, Julie knew, she could figure out a plan to locate discreet and respectable clients, But there was no time and she had no plan; just her body to sell and a need for money, a lot of it, by Monday. Her fevered mind raced, obsessed on finding ways to entice strangers into sex. Finally an idea, more of a vision really, came to Julie, building on an erotically charged memory that was humiliating at the time. She rose unsteadily to her feet. Brad will be out all night, she knew, working a double shift. I have to do this now.

Passing through their master bedroom, Julie stepped anxiously into the adjoining dressing room. After hesitating for several moments, she reached to the back of her walk in closet to retrieve a lovely, but uncomfortably sheer, silk blouse that her husband had bought her for their last anniversary.

Her hands trembled as she stripped out of the conservative top she was wearing, before draping the mere wisp of white silk of his gift blouse over her naked breasts. Julie had only worn it once before, with Brad on their anniversary. On that occasion she insisted on wearing a bra beneath it, since he always preferred that she go without one. When Julie informed Brad of her one condition he grinned slyly, and handed her a brassier he specifically purchased for her to wear under that blouse.

Seeing the urgent twinkle in his eye that evening, Julie understood that refusing him was not really an option, not if she wanted her husband happy on a day that meant so much to them both. Now, standing alone in her dressing room, fumbling to fasten enough of the buttons on the rear of that silk blouse to walk out into the night without him, Julie relived the memories of that prior outing, placed on display in the same silk blouse for Brad.

He arranged for them to dine at the most elegant restaurant in town. Brad vowed that their table would be secluded, hidden from the view of other diners. He reserved it (at a premium) for that very reason, in a small alcove that most other patrons didn’t even know existed. Julie was taken aback though, upon their arrival, to discover that their alcove was far better lit than the main room of the restaurant where they previously had dined, which was always tastefully shrouded in the dim ambiance of candles and indirect lighting,

Here, to Julie’s great discomfort, they were fully illuminated by a crystal chandelier, which cast white light down directly onto their table. The seating however was, as Brad had promised, very private. Given her indecent attire Julie was relieved by that. Pretty much only their waiter would be able to view her sitting there, and Julie resolved to block him out of her mind to the maximum extent possible, and to focus only on Brad instead.

Even so, Julie tensed up visibly when their waiter, a vaguely unpleasant man in both appearance and demeanor, quickly became overly attentive to her every need, at times hovering mere inches over her shoulder as he obsessively refilled Julie’s water glass almost every time she touched it. Her husband didn’t seem to mind the excessive male attention being lavished on his wife, she noted. If anything Brad smiled more broadly whenever the man leaned over her.