Lady Sonia edited and re-edited the email; then deleted it, re-wrote it from scratch and edited it some more. But this second draft was getting too long, too wordy, so Lady Sonia deleted that one, too, and rewrote it in a completely different way. When Lady Sonia was finished, Lady Sonia was still unhappy. Her intent was simple, the gist of the message straightforward, but Lady Sonia had to get the right nuances or her night would end in a disaster. A wrong outcome might even ruin her life.

It was worth spending time to get it exactly right.

After sweating over the keyboard for more than two hours, Lady Sonia admitted to herself that was good enough, that it had been good enough all along; that her fears – entirely valid fears – had driven her to look for any excuse to avoid sending it. But, right or wrong, it was time to commit herself. With her hand trembling on the mouse, Lady Sonia clicked the “send” button and let it fly through the Internet to Thomas’s office computer, warts and all.

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As soon as Lady Sonia sent it, Lady Sonia began to regret her stupidity with all her heart. Now Lady Sonia was committed. Absolutely committed. Lady Sonia asked herself what Lady Sonia had done. Lady Sonia cursed herself out loud because Lady Sonia had to follow through no matter what second thoughts Lady Sonia had. The email was a promise and Lady Sonia always kept her promises. If Lady Sonia reneged now, how could Lady Sonia expect Thomas to ever again trust her?

Lady Sonia opened the copy of the email in her “sent” folder and stared at it for a half hour, reading and re-reading it. And, with every reading, Lady Sonia imagined a different way that her evening could unfold. The best Lady Sonia could hope for was utter degradation. Any other outcome was worse.

Dear Thomas:

Last week, you told me that you were unhappy in our marriage. I was surprised because I thought it was going pretty well. Since then, I have been thinking about what I might do to make you happier. You have told me on a number of occasions that you think that our sex life has become mundane. That I am not as adventurous now as when we were dating.

So I am going to change that tonight.

I am not coming home after work. Instead, I will go into the bar at 1529 Broadway called O’Reilly’s Pump at exactly 9:00, sit down, and begin entertaining sexual propositions from men. I do not expect that to take long because I will dress in a way that makes my intention obvious. My intention is this: I will get on my knees in the Men’s washroom and give a big, sloppy blow job to the first man who is willing to pay me twenty dollars.

If I cannot find any one who is willing to pay me even that paltry sum by 10:00, then I will start approaching men and offering to service them for free. One way or another, I will not leave the bar until I have swallowed some man’s cum. This is the promise that I make to you and to myself.

I hope with all my heart that you will be the man to buy my service, but if you chose to let someone else to make an offer first, I will not hesitate to give him a blow job instead.

My fate is in your hands.

I hope that this is the kind of sexual adventure that will make you happy.

Love,

Lady Sonia

Thomas read the email a second time. What the hell was this all about? He never told Lady Sonia that he wanted to get a blow job in a Men’s room in some seedy bar. And he sure as hell never told her that he wanted her to cheat on him with some stranger. What the hell was Lady Sonia thinking?

He raged because, after twenty years of marriage, he knew exactly what Lady Sonia was thinking. This was just another way for her to jerk him around. It seemed like Lady Sonia spent every minute of every day searching for some way to impose her will on him, complaining that he never helped out around the house, and when he did, complaining that he did everything wrong – demanding that he fold towels the same way that Lady Sonia folded them and demanding that he take out the garbage when Lady Sonia wanted it taken out.

And, of course, the ultimate battleground for their two-decade-long power struggle was the bedroom. When he wanted sex, denying him it gave her more power than allowing herself to be seduced, so they made love on her schedule – two or three times a month – rather than according to his needs; needs which became more urgent every time Lady Sonia looked at him with a twinkle in her eye, let him beg for a while, then decided that Lady Sonia wasn’t in the mood after all. And when Lady Sonia did let him make love to her, the rules were hers – in the bedroom, lights off, missionary position, and he better come quick or Lady Sonia’d find it too painful to let him continue to the end.

And now Lady Sonia was commanding him to show up at some bar at exactly 9:00 or Lady Sonia was going to give someone else a blow job – a sexual act that Lady Sonia had always said was “too disgusting” to do for him even as Lady Sonia told him with her next breath that Lady Sonia loved with all her heart.

He was so frustrated that he wanted to scream.

Shopping took longer than Lady Sonia expected – most of the afternoon. Who would have thought that it would take so long to find clothes that would make her look like a two-bit whore? It was true that Lady Sonia was a little old for the game – already over forty –but that shouldn’t have been a problem. Dressing two decades too young for her age would give her the exact look that Lady Sonia wanted – desperate and willing to do whatever Lady Sonia had to do to earn twenty bucks. The problem was that Lady Sonia was fifteen pounds overweight and those few extra pounds on her forty-year old body made her about six sizes too large to fit into the clothes that designed to make a twenty-year-old look like a slut.

But Lady Sonia was a trooper and was willing to squeeze into clothes that were a couple of sizes too small if that was required. Comfort was not her goal. Her only practical concern was that Lady Sonia had to be able to sink to her knees without ripping her skirt to shreds.

If her personal humiliation would make her husband happy, it was a price that Lady Sonia was willing to pay. Not a price that Lady Sonia wanted to pay; not a price that Lady Sonia was eager to pay; but one that Lady Sonia would pay for his sake. But Lady Sonia never expected that Lady Sonia would have to start paying so soon in such large denominations to so many condescending, skinnier-than-thou, minimum-wage teenage clerks in trendy clothing stores. The frank sneers and giggling whispers behind her back made her blush as Lady Sonia sorted through the racks of plus sized teen apparel. How did these clerks know that Lady Sonia was shopping for herself and not for a daughter? Maybe their first clue was that Lady Sonia was shopping alone and their second clue that Lady Sonia kept taking the clothes into the change room to try them on.

In Rue Chic, Lady Sonia managed to squeeze into a hot pink tube top in the dressing room. As Lady Sonia looked at herself in the full-length mirror, Lady Sonia hated the way her waist bulged and strained the double-stretch almost as much as Lady Sonia hated the way her nipples made such prominent bumps in the thin material. It was perfect. Lady Sonia wasn’t looking for clothes that Lady Sonia liked; or even clothes that flattered her; Lady Sonia was looking for clothes that made her look like Lady Sonia was available to anyone who cared to ask. And the way the skimpy top displayed cleavage all the way down to her nipples screamed that her boobs were available to one and all. Lady Sonia imagined that Thomaser – Lady Sonia had convinced herself that the man who would buy her services tonight would certainly be Thomaser; that was the only way Lady Sonia could force herself to do this – would want her to pull the top down to her waist while Lady Sonia was blowing him so that he could look watch her naked tits bounce as her head bobbed back and forth in a frenzy of licking and slobbering. This hateful scrap of clothing was the prefect top in every way.

The teenaged clerk gave her a smarmy grin as Lady Sonia passed her the bag and said, “Have a nice day, ma’am,” investing the final word with as much venom as possible.

Lady Sonia felt a fresh blush of shame and wanted to slap the little bitch; Lady Sonia only refrained because Lady Sonia would not give the little tart the satisfaction.

The scene was repeated at Lilly’s Boutique where Lady Sonia found a little black miniskirt that was short – the hem rode more than two inches above her knee – and uncomfortably tight. Before Lady Sonia left the change room, Lady Sonia looked in the mirror closely, then took a blue pen from her purse and marked a small line slightly less than halfway between the hem and her crotch. The line was hard to see on the black material, but Lady Sonia knew that Lady Sonia would be able to find it when Lady Sonia looked for it later. The skirt was already short, but it would be a lot shorter before Lady Sonia wore it out tonight.

The slender, blonde, teenaged clerk called her, “dear,” a term usually used to condescend to senior citizens, in a tone of precisely calculated distain. Lady Sonia ignored the clerk and worried about the skirt. Lady Sonia was going to have to hike it up to her crotch before kneeling down otherwise it would split at the seam for certain. Lady Sonia could look forward to one more little inescapable humiliation in the Men’s room at O’Reilly’s. When Lady Sonia thought about hiking the skirt up, Lady Sonia realized that her choice of panty style and colour was going to matter.

Lady Sonia would have preferred going out bare-legged, but the skirt would be short enough to reveal a little spiderweb of varicose veins halfway up her right thigh, even when Lady Sonia was standing up, and Lady Sonia worried that that would reduce her desirability or, Lady Sonia should say, salability, when Lady Sonia put herself on the market tonight.

Lady Sonia could not wear a bra with the top, even if Lady Sonia wanted to; and finding black stockings, garter belt, and a scarlet thong in her size was easy. Lady Sonia could have chosen a black thong to match the miniskirt or a pink one to match the top, but it was important that the thong contrast with the skirt and stockings as much as possible; Lady Sonia wanted men to have no doubt about what they were seeing when Lady Sonia had to part her legs to move or when her skirt hiked up accidentally. Lady Sonia was not a natural exhibitionist and hated the thought that anyone would see more than was modest and proper; Lady Sonia would do her best to minimize the frequency and severity of her indiscretions. But, realistically, indiscretions would happen no matter how alert Lady Sonia was and how careful Lady Sonia moved. By the time Lady Sonia got to the Men’s room, Lady Sonia would have no shred of self respect left, but Lady Sonia would fight to keep as much dignity as possible before that final, inevitable degradation. That was what would make every little humiliation along the way so keenly felt.

As Lady Sonia bought the garter belt, Lady Sonia fretted about the miniskirt that was in the trunk of her car. It was going to be very short by the time Lady Sonia was ready to wear it and the garter belt straps were only adjustable to a limited degree. Even with the stockings pulled as high as possible, Lady Sonia wondered how much of the rigging would be visible below the hem. Lady Sonia was sick with fear that the hem of the skirt would be too high and the stockings too low, showing more than Lady Sonia wanted. But Lady Sonia was already committed to wearing the entire ensemble, no matter how it looked when Lady Sonia finally saw it all together.

Pink, strappy, open-toed shoes with three-inch stilettos completed her hooker outfit. If those shoes didn’t shout, “fuck me!” to the entire world then nothing would.

Lady Sonia could not to home and risk running into Thomas prematurely, so Lady Sonia checked into a cheap motel and spent the next hour sitting in the crumby room, working on the miniskirt. Lady Sonia had brought a pair of tailor scissors with her and immediately began cutting at the pen mark that Lady Sonia had made in the change room in the store. After chopping a good three inches of material off the bottom, Lady Sonia used a black thread and a needle to re-hem them by hand.

After her alteration, Lady Sonia looked at the skirt in her hands and wondered if Lady Sonia had cut off too much. Would this scrap of material even cover her crotch? Lady Sonia hoped to hell that Lady Sonia had marked the skirt properly in the store because Lady Sonia was going to wear them in public this evening, no matter what kind of mistake Lady Sonia might have made.

Lady Sonia would not get dressed until the last minute for fear that if Lady Sonia had time to think about what Lady Sonia looked like after seeing herself in the entire ensemble, Lady Sonia would lose her nerve and flee home in shame. Failing to keep her promise would be the worst humiliation possible. Unthinkable, so Lady Sonia refused to think about it.

Her stomach was already twisted into knots too tight to eat and her mind was too distressed to follow even a simple television program. So Lady Sonia just sat quietly as the sun sank lower in the sky and let her multitude of fears torture her, watching the clock ticked the minutes away.

Lady Sonia hoped that Thomas understood the hell that Lady Sonia was putting herself through just to give him a bit of excitement.

There was no way he would ever call her mundane again.

The more Thomas thought about his wife’s email, the angrier he grew. He was sick and tired of dancing to her tune. For the sake of the kids, he had put up with her sniping and bitching for a long, long time. But Samantha would be starting university in two months and David had already been living in the dorms for two years; they did not need him at home any longer. This summer, he had barely seen either one of them – they were out with friends every night until all hours. Since Sam’s birth, he had been counting down the years of their childhood like a convict marking off a twenty-year sentence; now it was time for him to be paroled. God knows, he’d earned a little time off for good behaviour.

The only question was whether he should take his freedom today or tomorrow or next week. There was no question that he would be gone by Thanksgiving. He might be celebrating alone, but it would be the first Thanksgiving in memory when he would truly be thankful rather than just maintaining a pretense.

Lady Sonia’s email promised that Lady Sonia was going to be out of the house at 9:00 tonight and Lady Sonia always kept her promises. He could drop by the house, pack a bag, and be gone before Lady Sonia got back.

As for her little “adventure” in some bar, Lady Sonia could do whatever the hell Lady Sonia wanted. Blow every barfly in the place for all he cared. Or get smart, walk out unscathed, and keep her prissy little mouth virginal forever. Lady Sonia was an adult, for Christ’s sake. Lady Sonia wanted to be the one to make every decision? Well, this was her decision. Lady Sonia was welcome to it and Lady Sonia would damn well have to live with the result.

After Lady Sonia parked, Lady Sonia pulled the visor down and took a last look at her face in the fading summer sunset. The sky-blue eye shadow looked like it had been applied with a shovel; thick black eyeliner outlined her lids in a crude imitation of the ‘60s mod style; and her laLady Sonias hung so heavy with mascara that they looked false. Her lips were painted full with the brightest scarlet Lady Sonia could find – a hue that begged to be left in perfect ring around the root of someone’s – Thomaser’s – cock. The rest of her face was bare – no foundation, no concealer, not even a touch of rouge to hide behind. A man grab it, hold it, rub his cock across it, dribble his cum over it, without any concern about smudging or smearing her.

Seeing the whore’s face staring back from the mirror where Lady Sonia was only one step away from a busy downtown street made her heart pound harder than ever.

The automobile clock read 8:59. The hour of truth had arrived. Lady Sonia grabbed the little black purse that contained a single twenty dollar bill, her keys, and nothing else; and opened her car door.

There was no way to step out without spreading her legs and flashing that lipstick-coloured thong. Broadway was a busy street in the evening; no time would be any better than right now. Just as Lady Sonia put her left foot on the asphalt, Lady Sonia glanced up and saw wide eyes peering from a passing car window. There was one teenage boy who would soon be having a wet dream about a woman old enough to be his mother.

Lady Sonia hated to think that Lady Sonia was contributing to the delinquency of minors, so, before any more cars zipped by, Lady Sonia slid her second leg out as quickly as possible, stood up, and pulled the hem of the miniskirt as far down as Lady Sonia could. It did not pull very far down.

As Lady Sonia walked the block and a half to the bar, Lady Sonia glanced at herself in the darkened store windows. Lady Sonia saw glimpses of the same slut that Lady Sonia had seen in the motel mirror – breasts bouncing like two excited puppies, threatening to escape from the too-tight tube top at every step; a clear sliver of bare white thigh slipping into view at stocking top every time the miniskirt hem flicked sideways as the too-high heels forced her hips to swivel from one extreme to the other; and an ass, unmarked by any visible panty line, bulging and squirming inside the too-tight skirt like bread dough being kneaded from the inside by a hidden baker.

Lady Sonia felt the cooling evening air blowing around her bare thighs all the way up to her naked ass cheeks, making her feel as though Lady Sonia were naked all the way up to her crotch, despite the visual confirmation that the miniskirt did indeed cover her to the tops of the stockings.

Lady Sonia had to fight the urge to reach up and hike the tube top higher – Lady Sonia had difficulty convincing herself that it only felt like it was slipping further off her boobs with every step. More than once, Lady Sonia could not resist glancing down at her chest to make sure that Lady Sonia was not revealing the rosy edge of her nipples above the hot pink fabric. Not yet.

Lady Sonia felt relief when Lady Sonia finally reached the door of the bar, even though, intellectually, Lady Sonia knew that at this threshold, Lady Sonia was truly stepping from the frying pan into the fire.

Lady Sonia had never been inside the bar before, but had walked past a few times in the past week and had even parked for a while to watch patrons entering and leaving, so Lady Sonia had a good idea about what to expect. O’Reilly’s was a working man’s bar. Not antiseptic, not even very clean, but not a scum hole, either. The kind of place where some men came to drink a few beers with their buddies once a week, mostly just to get away from the wife and kids; where other men would stop after a shift on the assembly line and try to wash the taste of the factory out of their mouth. It was a place where neither wives nor girlfriends were welcome. The occasional hooker would stop by, but the trade was too slim to support one full time. Sluts were tolerated as long as they were willing to pay for most of their own drinks and didn’t demand too much attention.

It was a bar where Lady Sonia would be neither welcomed nor driven off, but tolerated for as long as Lady Sonia wiLady Soniad to stay.

As her over-high heels forced her to sashay to the bar, Lady Sonia surveyed the room. Every eye in the placelooked back at her. And every one of those eyes was male – on Monday evenings business was too slow for real hookers and the sluts were still sleeping off their weekend debaucheries.

There were no booths, just a handful of tables with chairs and a row of stools at the bar. There were a dozen customers drinking at three of the tables and another five seated on the barstools.

Certain that Lady Sonia had missed him, Lady Sonia surveyed the room again to confirm that, to her dismay, Thomaser was nowhere to be seen.

Her heart sank.

Lady Sonia chose the stool that was furthest from any other customers – it happened to be close to the centre of the bar because the other customers were clustered at the ends – and sat down.

As her legs bent, Lady Sonia could feel her way-short skirt hike up past her stocking tops so that her bare thighs and a good piece of her ass stuck to the brown fake leather. The chrome edge drew a cold line across the naked backs of her upper legs.

The men in the room were not looking at her face; their eyes were focused on her legs, ass, and tits. Lady Sonia felt herself blush; a modest woman wearing an outfit this indecent would have no need for rouge.

Lady Sonia did not impress the fiftyish bartender one way or the other. He had seen it all and couldn’t care less. He left her sitting for a good five minutes while he pulled a pitcher for one of the regulars and chatted about the game yesterday. When it was convenient for him, he sauntered down to her and asked, “What can I get ya, miss?”

Lady Sonia glanced involuntarily at her bare ring finger – Lady Sonia had left her wedding ring at home as her one and only concession to good taste – and said, “Coke. No ice, please.”

“Costs the same as if you get some rum in it.”

“No thanks. Just Coke. No ice.” Lady Sonia had decided early in the afternoon that Lady Sonia would not be drinking tonight – Lady Sonia wanted to keep her head crystal clear to ensure that Lady Sonia felt every iota of her humiliation as keenly as possible. And it was working. Nothing had really happened yet and Lady Sonia already felt more deeply humiliated than at any other time in her entire life. And that was saying something – high school had not been kind to Lady Sonia.

While the bartender was drawing her Coke, Lady Sonia kept her eyes down, staring at the scarred wood, and wondering where Thomaser was and what he was doing. Lady Sonia had given him the option of leaving her here alone and forcing her to give a blowjob to a stranger – Lady Sonia had been explicit about that in her email – but Lady Sonia had never imagined that he would take her up on that offer.

“Four-fifty,” the barkeep said as he puLady Soniad the glass toward her.

It would have been a cheap rum and coke, but it was a damned expensive glass of pop. Lady Sonia passed him the twenty from her purse and he went to fetch her change.

The thought occurred to her that he might have failed to receive her email, or failed to read it, but Lady Sonia dismissed that out of hand. Lady Sonia knew that Lady Sonia had the address right because it had not bounced back and Lady Sonia knew for a fact that he never left the office until he had read everything in his inbox. He conducted too much critical business by email to be lax about that.

That was a pity because, right now, Lady Sonia wanted nothing more in the world than to have an excuse to get up and leave this bar still unsullied.

But Lady Sonia could not use that as an excuse; there were two other, far more likely, possibilities. Either he wanted her to suck off a stranger in the Men’s room of some seedy bar – maybe he even had had fantasies about it – or he thought that Lady Sonia wanted to do it and did not care enough, or cared too much, to interfere. It seemed unlikely that he thought Lady Sonia wanted to blow a stranger because Lady Sonia said explicitly in her email that Lady Sonia hoped that he would be the one to purchase her services tonight.

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That left only the first possibility – that Lady Sonia would soon be on her knees in the Men’s room with a strange cock in her mouth because that was exactly where her husband wanted her and Lady Sonia was determined to give him exactly what he wanted. Her head turned about of its own accord and her eyes stared for a long time at the dirty little sign that read “Restrooms” over the alcove at the far side of the bar.

For the first time, it occurred to her that Lady Sonia could have specified the Lady’s room. Until now, Lady Sonia had only thought about the Men’s because that was the more degrading option by a slight measure.

Now another thought occurred to her. If Thomaser wanted her to suck off a stranger, was he going to require that, when Lady Sonia got home, Lady Sonia tell him about the whole experience in excruciating detail? Was that the thrill that he craved? Recalling the act for his amusement would be even more degrading than performing the act itself. And if Lady Sonia confessed every detail of her act, was he going to bring it up again and again every time they had some little spat for the rest of their lives? Every time he got angry, would he remind her once again that Lady Sonia had once been an unfaithful slut?

That thought incited a twinge of anger that fortified her a little for the night ahead. If he started holding this against her, Lady Sonia could always remind him that her perfidy was a result of his choices: first to accuse her of being sexually boring and mundane; and second, not to rescue her from her self-assigned fate.

Two could play the blame game.

Thomaser threw the suitcase in the trunk of his car, came around to the driver’s side, hopped in and started the engine.

For the first time since his twenties, he felt like a free man. He could go anywhere he wanted, do anything he wanted. And the first thing that he wanted was to make his escape before Lady Sonia showed up. If Lady Sonia had come to her senses and given up her silly game before Lady Sonia even got to the bar; Lady Sonia would be pulling around the corner at any minute. Or Lady Sonia could have blown some guy in her first five minutes and still be pulling around the corner at any minute. He knew one sure thing from his years of experience: sex with Lady Sonia was always a quick business. And he knew that he did not want to have to spend the rest of the night explaining why he was leaving. He had not even written a note – Lady Sonia could spend all the time Lady Sonia needed figuring it out during all the leisure time that Lady Sonia would have in the coming years. Not being able to rag on him constantly would give her endless free time.

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Besides, if he had left a note, one of the kids might have found it before Lady Sonia did. They weren’t likely to get back until after midnight, but who knew how long Lady Sonia might have to spend trying to find some man who would actually want her frumpy forty-year-old body. Lady Sonia might not come home until the bar closed; and there was nothing that he would say in a note that he wanted his children to read.

Without further contemplation, he hit the road.

As Lady Sonia was getting to the bottom of her Coke, Lady Sonia heard a burst of laughter behind her. Lady Sonia had spent the last twenty minutes nursing her Coke as slowly as possible and had not dared to look around. Lady Sonia clung desperately to the hope that Thomaser would still come here and Lady Sonia was afraid of inadvertently encouraging some other man to approach her. In her fantasies, Lady Sonia had imagined that Lady Sonia would have been bolder from the outset. That if Thomaser were a no-show, Lady Sonia would have begun acting like a real hooker immediately, turning around and making eye contact with the customers, enticing likely johns with a coy smile, actively soliciting interest in the wares that Lady Sonia was putting on display, open to all offers.

Instead, Lady Sonia was sitting here like a wallflower at a high school formal, too shy to meet a fella, knowing that Lady Sonia would go home again without having danced a single step.

Which was exactly what Lady Sonia wanted. The only man Lady Sonia wanted to dance with was her husband – the man Lady Sonia loved.

But Lady Sonia wasn’t going to get what Lady Sonia wanted. If Thomaser failed to show up damn, soon, Lady Sonia’d be dancing on her knees with her lips around someone else’s cock, however much Lady Sonia hated the idea.

Lady Sonia prayed with all her heart that Thomaser would walk through the door right now, whisk her off to the Men’s room for their exciting adventure, and then take her safely home where they would collapse in gales of laughter about their bold walk on the wild side of the tracks.

For a second, Lady Sonia thought that her dreams had come true; a bass voice mumbled in her ear, “Hey, babe, want to have some fun tonight?” exactly the way Lady Sonia expected Thomas to come on to her when he entered into the spirit of the game.

But, when Lady Sonia turned, Lady Sonia saw a grizzled man ten years younger than her with a five o’clock shadow and bloodshot eyes leering at her.

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Thomas was MIA and it was time to complete the promise that Lady Sonia had made to herself. Lady Sonia replied in what Lady Sonia hoped was a sultry voice, “You look like a fun guy. I’m ready if you are. What did you have in mind?”

“Maybe let me buy you a drink and we can talk about it.”

“No need for a drink. Let’s just talk about it now.” Lady Sonia licked her lips and leaned close, giving him a good shot of her cleavage. As though on a string, his head bobbed down, the better to enjoy the view.

“Maybe you’d just like to get it on with me?” he said, boldly.

Lady Sonia presumed that ‘get it on’ meant regular sex, so Lady Sonia countered with, “I think maybe I could make you happier with a nice big sloppy blow job.” Her ears burned with shame as Lady Sonia said the crude words, but there it was, right out on the table. No misunderstanding possible.

“Would you like that?” The young man raised his eyebrows.

“I’d love that,” Lady Sonia lied with a smile, drawing out the word, ‘love,’ as long and lasciviously as Lady Sonia could.

“Okay,” he drawled the word the same way while his whole face broke into a broad smile.

“I’ll need twenty dollars up front.”

Now it was the man who turned red. “I don’t pay for it, lady. I don’t need to pay for it.”

“Do you have a job?”

“Of course I do. I have a good job down at the docks.”

“Do you work for free?”

“Hell no.”

“Well, I don’t work for free, either. Twenty bucks isn’t much, but that’s what I charge.”

“Twenty buck is more than your fat old ass is worth. I can get a lot of beer for twenty bucks and that much beer’ll make me feel a lot better than you can.”

“Don’t be so sure about that, son. I can make you feel damn good.” But her words were wasted. The man was already heading back to his friends. After a minute, their laugher turned nasty and Lady Sonia heard the word, whore, being thrown about with abandon.

Lady Sonia had thought that having to suck off a strange man in a Men’s room would be the ultimate humiliation, but being told that Lady Sonia was too old to be worth even a measly twenty dollars was an altogether more degrading experience.

No matter. The word was out and someone would pay her soon enough.

And then Lady Sonia would no longer be playing whore. Lady Sonia would actually be one.

Having no particular destination in mind, Thomas drove toward downtown – it was natural – there was nothing happening in the suburbs that would interest a single man, footloose and carefree.

It was only natural that his meandering would take him close to Broadway, but not entirely accidental that he turned left toward the seedier end of the street instead of right toward the centre of town.

What was that place that Lady Sonia said Lady Sonia was going? O’Malley’s? O’Brian’s? Something Irish. O’Reilly’s! That was the place. The one right there across the street! Lady Sonia could be in there right now, even as he was driving past.

Thomas slowed down as much as traffic permitted and tried to peer through the window, but he could see nothing but a dark blur. Lady Sonia probably wasn’t even there. It was already 9:30. Whatever Lady Sonia had decided, it had to be over by now.

But a block further, he saw her gold-coloured Honda parked by the curb. Damn, Lady Sonia must be still inside trying to find someone brave enough to let her wrap her vicious little mouth around their pecker.

He whipped a U-turn, parked in the first empty spot, and walked back toward the bar. He did not kid himself about finding this place by accident, or about having some deep subconscious needs. He freely admitted to himself that he had become curious about what was happening. He wanted to know if Lady Sonia were really going through with her plan.

And he was more than a little curious about the line in her email where Lady Sonia said that Lady Sonia would “dress in a way that would make her intentions obvious.” He wanted to see what his prissy little wife thought a fuck-me outfit looked like. This was the woman who had insisted on wearing flannel pyjamas to bed every night since their honeymoon. Lady Sonia had whined, “But I get cold,” so often that he could swear Lady Sonia was walking behind him, complaining right now. Her idea of sexy clothes probably included baggy blue jeans, a freshly-pressesd sweatshirt, and a beige bra designed by a certified structural engineer.

He would just peek in the window for a laugh before he moved on.

‘Okay,’ Lady Sonia told herself, ‘the ice is broken now. I’ve made an offer and set my price. It’s almost 9:30, Thomas has decided to make me go through with it, so it’s time to find a john and close the sale, so that I can get the hell out of here.’

Lady Sonia swallowed the last vestiges of her pride along with the last of her Coke and turned around on her stool. Lady Sonia began looking at the men in the room, one at a time, ready to negotiate with one of these men for the privilege of paying her twenty dollars and letting her suck his cock to as quick an orgasm as he could manage. Hell, twenty bucks was almost nothing and Lady Sonia was sure that most of these guys weren’t too proud to take advantage of a bargain like that.

At first, Lady Sonia avoided looking at the table where the young man who had previously rejected her offer was sitting. Undoubtedly, to demonstrate their solidarity his friends had already agreed that Lady Sonia wasn’t worthy of any of them.

The feeling was mutual.

As Lady Sonia looked at the men, Lady Sonia could not help but form opinions about them, to try to imagine whose cock would be the least distasteful to suck. Maybe a young Richard Gere was slumming in here somewhere. A twenty-buck whore couldn’t afford standards, but Lady Sonia would be allowed preferences. If the truth were known, Lady Sonia wasn’t even that keen to suck Thomas’s cock, but Lady Sonia was sure that one of these men would be better than the others. As Lady Sonia surveyed the room, Lady Sonia a shocking truth slowly dawned on her. While Lady Sonia had been sitting here, nursing her Coke and moping about Thomaser’s abandonment, the men behind her had not been sitting idle. They had been whispering among themselves, passing the young man’s story being told from table to table.

Join Lady Sonia

And now, every single man in this bar knew that her price was twenty bucks for a blow job and every single one of them had a twenty lying on the table in front of him. Even the young man who had previously blown her off was now fingering a twenty and grinning at her like the devil himself. Lady Sonia knew that not one of these men had taken the money out of their wallets to buy another round of beer.

The whole bar had been quietly waiting for her to finish her drink and get to work.

Thomas had an inspiration. If he were going to get a divorce, he would need grounds. What better grounds than that his wife had begun engaging in prostitution? Not only would the grounds be adultery, but a whole patter of illegal activity. Any judge in the state would be so disgusted that he wouldn’t even listen to a question of alimony. He’d just tell her that Lady Sonia could fall on her back and earn her own damn alimony. Hell, Thomas would only have to threatening to expose her disgusting behaviour in open court Lady Sonia would scurry away without the word ever passing her lips.

He slipped into the bar.

Of course, Lady Sonia noticed him as soon as he entered – it was a small bar and Lady Sonia was turned on her stool to face the door as well. He grinned at her, shrugged, and sat in a chair at the nearest empty table.

The whole room was silent, expectant. Something was about to happen.

A man at the next chair leaned over to him and said in a stage whisper, “Lady Sonia’s a hooker. Lady Sonia’s going to give us all blow jobs for twenty bucks apiece.”

Thomas looked around, astoniLady Soniad, and said, “All of you?”

“Yup. That’s what they say. All comers. Get your money out.”

“Twenty bucks?”

“Yup. That’s her rate. That’s what Lady Sonia told the guy over there. I haven’t heard of a blow job that cheap since the eighties, but who’m I to look a gift whore in the mouth?” His giggle sounded like gravel rattling in a tin bucket.

Thomas looked back at his wife. Lady Sonia sure looked like a gift whore. Her dress was so short that he could see garter straps stretching half way up her ass cheeks and her tits were hanging half out of a tiny Mary-Kay-coloured tube top that was stretched practically to the breaking point.

Who would have guessed that his prissy little lady had it in her to costume herself like a back alley street walker?

Lady Sonia was frozen in fear. Looking at the tableau that could have been created solely for his amusement, he could see exactly the pretty little pickle that Lady Sonia had gotten herself into. Lady Sonia thought that Lady Sonia was going to cherry pick some young stud but had greatly underestimated the dynamics of a group or horny men. There was no way Lady Sonia was going to be allowed to leave without servicing every stallion in the stable. And some of these stallions were not only past their prime, they were one step away from the glue factory.

Before the night was over, Lady Sonia was going to get a close up look at more skin diseases than a resident dermatologist working a full shift in a leper colony.

After these men got through with her, her mouth was going to be dirtier than a city sewer pipe. He wouldn’t ever put his own cock into that hole. He’d never been allowed to fuck her mouth before tonight and he wasn’t every going to want to afterward. Kind of a pity, they way those lips were painted bright red like that, they looked damned hot. He felt a stir in his groin despite himself.

The only man in the joint who wasn’t fingering his money with one hand and his personal joint with the other was the bartender.

Thomas was going to have to get his name so he could subpoena him as a witness in the divorce proceedings.

Lady Sonia almost collapsed with relief when Lady Sonia saw Thomas walk through the door. No damsel had ever been as happy to see a white knight coming to her rescue as Lady Sonia at that moment. Lady Sonia tried to keep her composure, but felt her eyes tear up in gratitude.

Then her husband sat down on the far side of the room and grinned at her.

Lady Sonia silently cursed him. He was so dumb that he couldn’t understand how much trouble Lady Sonia was in. He didn’t have any time to waste. Lady Sonia needed him up here with her right now, offering his protection, not sitting back there, waiting to be served a drink.

Even as Lady Sonia held her breath, expecting him to make his move at any moment, someone else moved first. An old man with greasy white hair and a sagging pot belly heaved himself out of his chair, clutching his money in a grimy, nicotine-stained fist, waved it in the air and shouted, “I’m too old to wait any longer. My money’s as good as the next man’s. Let’s get this show on the road.” As he yelled, Lady Sonia saw only a few snaggly yellow teeth left in his mouth.

Lady Sonia had promised that Lady Sonia would service the first man who made her an offer. That was the rule. So Lady Sonia told herself that the geezer had not yet made an offer because he had not yet mentioned trading his money for any specific sexual act.

Join Lady Sonia

Lady Sonia had to act now and the only thing that Lady Sonia could do was to slip off the stool, go to Thomas and ask him what the hell he was doing back there.

Her skirt caught on the sweaty fake leather and hiked all the way up to completely uncover both ass cheeks and flash a clear outline of her pussy pressing against the thin red material that covered her crotch. Lady Sonia was beyond worrying about the niceties but the men in the bar were not. There was an audible collective gasp at the accidental partial strip tease and the sexual tension in the room rose another notch.

Thomas looked at her with new appreciation.

As Lady Sonia puLady Soniad past the old man who was waving his twenty dollar bill in her face, Lady Sonia ignored what he was saying. So intently was Lady Sonia concentrating on getting to her saviour that, in all honesty, Lady Sonia could not say if he had made an actual offer to pay for a blow job or not.

Following the old man’s lead, several other men waved their money in her direction and began shouting, but the rising cacophony of conflicting voices rendered them all unintelligible. Lady Sonia heard the words, “blow job,” more than once, but was unable to make out any specific offer.

At least that’s what Lady Sonia told herself. And, given a little time, Lady Sonia knew that Lady Sonia would be able to convince herself that it was true.

Someone grabbed at her right tit and a couple of others snatched at her ass, but Lady Sonia shook their paws off and kept tottering toward Thomas on those precarious heels.

When Lady Sonia finally made it to his table, Lady Sonia slid into the chair next to him, leaned over and said, “Thank God you’re here, Thomas. I was scared stiff.”

The cacophony abated somewhat; the other men in the room understood that Lady Sonia had chosen her first customer and were willing to wait their turn, at least for a while. By and large, everyone turned back to their own business, but eyes kept sneaking peeks in Lady Sonia’s direction, half expecting that Lady Sonia was going to start servicing the man right there in the middle of the bar and not wanting to miss any part of her ongoing free sex show.

“I can see why. You’ve got quite a fan club here. I’ve never seen so many hard- ons in one place in my life. You can smell the lust all the way out the door. You’re a raging success, dear. A raging success. I figure, if you get started right away, you’ll be finiLady Soniad by midnight. That assuming that no one wants seconds and not many more men arrive. Though if word spreads outside, to the other bars on the strip, you may be here until well after closing time. Even in the best case, though, your knees are going to be on fire and your jaw’ll be aching something awful before you’re done. But if you swallow every drop you milk, you won’t leave here hungry. That’s for damn sure. There’s enough jizm collecting in those sacs to fill you up good. You’re a hell of a woman to volunteer for this duty. A hell of a woman.”

Lady Sonia began to cry. Big fat tears ran down her cheeks – it was fortunate that Lady Sonia had used waterproof eyeliner and mascara; and that Lady Sonia had no other makeup on her face. “Why are you doing this to me, Thomas? I don’t understand. I’m your wife. You have to help me.”

Join Lady Sonia

“Hell, no, I don’t. For twenty years you’ve insisted that you know better than me about every little thing from how I should pay the bills to how often the oil needs to be changed in the car. And every time I said anything about it, you launched into a screaming fit and froze me out of the bedroom for another week. And you made it damn clear that if we ever broke up, you were going to take the children and I’d never see them without supervision again. That was one of your damn promises. Remember? Well, that ends now. You made this decision on your own, so you can damn well live with it.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so angry at me. This is something that I’m doing for you. You said that you wanted me to be more adventurous so here I am, being as adventurous as I know how.”

“So don’t do it. Just get up and walk out of here.”

Lady Sonia looked at him with teary eyes. “I can’t. I made you a promise and I’ll never break my word to you. Never. That’s the one thing that you can count on, no matter what.”

“Then you’re stuck, aren’t you? Tough luck for you.”

“Please let me take you into the bathroom and suck your cock. Please. That’s all I want. That’s all I wanted all day.”

“No.”

“Please. I’m begging you. Let me suck you off and I’ll do anything you tell me to do. Anything. Please.” Lady Sonia grabbed his hand and squeezed all her desperation into it.

He was silent for a long time, then said, “Anything I want?”

“Anything. That’s a promise.”

“An unbreakable promise?”

“Yes.”

Join Lady Sonia

He was silent for another long period. Someone in the back of the bar yelled out, “Come on, guy. Get on with it. We’re all waiting.”

He looked around at the leering faces, then back into his wife’s eyes. Then he pulled out his wallet, pressed a twenty dollar bill half into her cleavage and said loudly, “Okay, baby. Here’s twenty bucks to suck my cock. And you better earn every penny of it.”

“Thank-you,” Lady Sonia sobbed quietly, and pulled him toward the Men’s room to a chorus of cheers, the twenty dollar bill sticking out of the tube top so that all the world could see how much Lady Sonia was worth.

Thomas let her close the bathroom door, then leaned against it.

Lady Sonia said, “Thank-you, dear.”

“Don’t ‘dear’ me. You’re just a whore and I’m just a john so get on with the job.” His voice was cold.

“Yes, sir,” Lady Sonia replied in a shaky voice. Lady Sonia raised her miniskirt to her hips, revealing her bare ass and tiny thong in all its glory for his inspection, then sank to her knees before him. The floor was filthy, the smell of stale urine atrocious; it was exactly the degrading ambiance that Lady Sonia had imagined all week. Lady Sonia unbuckled his belt, unsnapped his waistband, and then carefully pulled down his zipper. Lady Sonia did not want to catch any bit of skin and put him out of the mood. Lady Sonia felt as though her life depended on doing this right. And Lady Sonia wasn’t too far wrong about that.

He gave her no help whatsoever beyond thrusting his crotch toward her face, but Lady Sonia managed to slip his pants over his hips and down to his knees. His boxers soon followed. He was already erect, for which Lady Sonia was thankful.

Lady Sonia looked up at his face with an expression that approximated adoration, then grabbed the top edge of her tube top and pulled it down to her waist, letting her tits spring free.

Thomas smiled down at her when Lady Sonia did that. It was not a loving smile.

Lady Sonia began licking gently, alternating swirls around the head of his cock with strokes down the length of the shaft. After a minute of that, Lady Sonia took the head into her mouth, opened her jaws wide to keep her teeth out of the way, and gently sucked while bobbing her head slowly back and forth, drawing more of him into her mouth with every pull until he was pressing against the back of her throat.

Lady Sonia kept swallowing hard to keep her gag reflex under control while Lady Sonia took more and more of him.

While Lady Sonia worked him with her mouth, Lady Sonia squeezed and massaged the base of his cock with both hands.

As his breathing deepened and he began moaning and thrusting forward to meet her, Lady Sonia worked him faster and faster, feeling her tits flopping and banging against her chest in wild abandon.

Listening to him moan louder and deeper, Lady Sonia realized that Lady Sonia was good at this. Really good. Who would have guessed that Lady Sonia would be such a naturally talented cocksucker?

When he came, thick and long into her mouth, Lady Sonia began swallowing. And swallowing. Never before had Lady Sonia realized how long a man’s orgasm could last. During all their years of normal lovemaking, Lady Sonia had thought that he had just squirted into her a couple of times and that was the end of it. Now, though, experiencing his orgasm so intimately, Lady Sonia realized that after the main ejaculation there were a series of secondary contractions where nothing much came out, but still kept him gasping with pleasure.

Lady Sonia was happy to stay on her knees on the filthy floor, keeping him in her mouth, gently licking and sucking him clean until he had gone completely soft again.

Finally, Lady Sonia gently raised his boxers and pants and then began refastening them.

Only when Lady Sonia had redressed him completely, did Lady Sonia rise to her feet, put her arms around him, press her naked breasts into her shirt, bow her head against his neck and say, “Thank-you. That was wonderful.”

He merely replied, “You owe me a favour. You promised that you would do anything that I tell you.”

Lady Sonia nodded into his neck and whispered, “Yes. Anything. You only have to ask and I will do it.”

“Good. I want you to pull your panties off, go out there, pull your skirt up to your waist, bend over a chair, and invite every man in the place to fuck you in the ass.”

Lady Sonia looked up at his face, not believing what Lady Sonia had heard. As the meaning of his words sunk in, Lady Sonia began to shake uncontrollably. “What?”

“You heard me. You promised that you would to do whatever I asked. Unconditionally. I’m asking you to let every man in this bar fuck you up the ass. Actually, I want you to beg them to fuck you up the ass. For free. Your imminent ass fucking is on the house. Are you going to renege on your promise to me?”

Lady Sonia began sobbing.

Thomas let her sob, felt her soaking his shirt with her tears, and waited to see what Lady Sonia would say.

After a long time, Lady Sonia said, “They’ll tear my asshole wide open. I’ll have to go the emergency ward when all those men are through with me.” Her voice was shaking so badly that Lady Sonia could barely form the words.

“So? What concern is it to me if you have to get your asshole stitched back together? That’s your pain, not mine. Are you going to honour your promise or not.”

Her voice was shaking even worse when Lady Sonia said. “You know that I’ll never break a promise, no matter what the cost.”

“Okay, then. Get to it.” He was implacable.

“Can I have some lubrication? Can I at least try to avoid some of the damage?”

“I couldn’t care less. Lube all you want. You got some KY on you?”

“No. I didn’t think I’d need any lube to give you a blowjob.”

“Looks like your plans weren’t quite as complete as you thought.” He shrugged. “Go ask the bartender if he has any butter. That’ll work well enough for a slut like you. Don’t worry. After the first few men have broken you in, your asshole will be gaping open wide enough to admit a subway train. Which is apt because you’re going to be pulling a hell of a train tonight.”

Lady Sonia wiped her eyes as best Lady Sonia could and then left the bathroom. A chorus of catcalls and crude comments greeted her and followed her all the way to the bar. This time, though, no one grabbed at her. All the men in the room had formed a line across the bar, each waiting patiently for his own turn with her. This was the train that Lady Sonia was going to start pulling in a few minutes.

Only Lady Sonia and Thomas knew that a treat was in store for them that was more special than they had yet imagined.

When Lady Sonia got to the bar, the bartender said, “What’ll it be, miss? Another Coke to wash away the taste? Or maybe now you need something strong enough to wash away the memory? I recommend a few vodka shooters.”

Lady Sonia tried to speak, but her voice failed her. Then Lady Sonia tried again and succeeded in croaking, “Do you have any butter? I need a lot of butter.”

“Yeah. I got butter back in the kitchen. But you’ll have to pay for it. We don’t give nothing away for free around here.”

‘I’ll be giving something away for free pretty soon,’ Lady Sonia thought to herself, but said nothing like that. Instead, Lady Sonia carefully placed the twenty dollars that Thomas had paid her on the bar and said, “I need as much butter as that will buy.”

“That’ll buy enough for whatever you got in mind,” the bartender replied, looking down at her crotch, guessing what was in store for her. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He scooped up the bill.

True to his word, he returned with a large tub of soft margarine. “That’s half gone, but I imagine that what’s left in there should do you for the rest of the night.”

Lady Sonia carried the margarine back to the Men’s room, cradling it like it was the crown jewels. Thomas was standing in the alcove right outside the door where he had been able to watch her, waiting to see if Lady Sonia made a break for the exit. When Lady Sonia walked back to him without even looking at the door to the street, he had to admit that Lady Sonia was being a hell of a trooper right to the end.

Join Lady Sonia

Lady Sonia carried the margarine inside. Lady Sonia didn’t have to let every man in the bar watch her butter up her own asshole; Thomas had not mentioned that in his request. Though he probably would have if he had thought of it.

Lady Sonia let him watch her through the open door as Lady Sonia pulled off her thong, squatted down, scooped three fingers of margarine out of the tub, and rubbed it around the rim of her asshole. Then Lady Sonia puLady Soniad what was left inside. Lady Sonia continued scooping margarine out and pushing as much of it as far up her asshole as Lady Sonia could. Once the fucking started, Lady Sonia might not get a chance to do this again so it was important that Lady Sonia get as much inside as possible now.

When Lady Sonia judged that Lady Sonia had forced in as much as would fit – when it seemed that as much was squeezing back out between her fingers as Lady Sonia was pushing in – Lady Sonia stood up and walked slowly out into the bar. As Lady Sonia was sliding past Thomas, Lady Sonia looked up at him and asked, “Why do you hate me so much? Was I that bad to you? Really?”

He grabbed her arm and looked down into her face. In that face, for the first time in years, he saw the girl that he had loved so many years ago; the young woman that he had married; the woman who had given birth to two fine children.

Lady Sonia looked back up at him and said, “You can have the first shot at my asshole, you know. Maybe I can make you hard again. At least let me try. You’re my husband. You deserve to pop my back door cherry and I know that you’re not going to want me after all these men have taken me.”

He felt his heart break. “I’m sorry.” He spoke more loudly, shouted to the men who were standing in line, each clutching a twenty-dollar bill in his hand, waiting to defile his wife. “I’m sorry. The lady and I have reached a new agreement. Instead of blow jobs, I’ve convinced her to let us fuck her in the ass.”

The men cheered.

Lady Sonia sobbed.

Until Thomas added, “But that’s a considerably more expensive service. I’m paying five hundred dollars for her asshole.” He turned her around and raised her miniskirt to her waist. “Because I think this is a choice piece. So unless someone wants to bid more than five hundred dollars, I’m going to take her out to a motel and rotorooter her ass for the rest of the night.”

This was something that a group of horny men could understand and appreciate. The whore was not dissing them, Lady Sonia just had a better offer.

No one could afford to outbid him, so Thomas took his wife back to her motel room and did exactly what he said that he was going to do.

The next morning, when Lady Sonia awoke, Lady Sonia’s asshole was sore, but not as sore as Lady Sonia had anticipated, given the enthusiastic assault that it had endured the night before. Not only had Lady Sonia been well-lubed, but Lady Sonia had stretched herself amply while pushing the butter inside. But the Lady Soniaets were a filthy, greasy mess, margarine had been leaking out of her all night long, along with no small amount of bodily fluids. Lady Sonia promised that Lady Sonia would leave a hundred dollars out of the five that Thomas had paid her as a special tip for the maid.

As soon as Lady Sonia began to stir, he awoke as well and looked over at her. Her hair was diLady Soniaveled, her makeup smeared over half her face, and her eyes were red and puffy. “You have never looked so beautiful,” he said.

Lady Sonia knew that Lady Sonia looked dreadful, but Lady Sonia also knew that he believed what he was saying. A man waking up in a state of blissful sexual satiation has an entirely different standard of beauty than the photo editor at Vogue magazine.

“Are you my husband this morning?” Lady Sonia asked.

“I want nothing more than to be your husband,” Thomas replied. “I love you.” And, for the first time in many years, he meant that with all his heart.

“I love you, too.”

“Last night, you promised that if I let you suck my cock, you would do what I say,” Thomas said, carefully.

“That’s right.”

“You didn’t say that you would only do what I said once or that you would only do what I said last night. You promised that you would do what that I say without any stipulations or qualifications. What I say, period.”

“That’s right,” Lady Sonia replied, snuggling into his chest. “That was the promise I made and that’s the promise that I will keep for as long as we are married.”

“All I ask is that you trust me. I promise that I will not let you down again as long as you trust me.”

Lady Sonia smiled happily. “We’re going to have a lot more adventures after Samantha moves away to university in the fall.”

He stroked her hair. “I think you’ll find our adventures a lot more fun when we’re both reading from the same page.”

Lady Sonia didn’t answer. Lady Sonia was too busy trying to stroke a little life back into her husband’s cock. Her pussy had a mind of it’s own, it hadn’t been filled in some time, and it was hungry for her husband. Hungrier than it had been in years.

A Wife of No Small Promise

by Ashley B. D. Zacharias

Lady Sonia edited and re-edited the email; then deleted it, re-wrote it from scratch and edited it some more. But this second draft was getting too long, too wordy, so Lady Sonia deleted that one, too, and rewrote it in a completely different way. When Lady Sonia was finiLady Soniad, Lady Sonia was still unhappy. Her intent was simple, the gist of the message straightforward, but Lady Sonia had to get the right nuances or her night would end in a disaster. A wrong outcome might even ruin her life.

It was worth spending time to get it exactly right.

After sweating over the keyboard for more than two hours, Lady Sonia admitted to herself that was good enough, that it had been good enough all along; that her fears – entirely valid fears – had driven her to look for any excuse to avoid sending it. But, right or wrong, it was time to commit herself. With her hand trembling on the mouse, Lady Sonia clicked the “send” button and let it fly through the Internet to Thomas’s office computer, warts and all.

Join Lady Sonia

As soon as Lady Sonia sent it, Lady Sonia began to regret her stupidity with all her heart. Now Lady Sonia was committed. Absolutely committed. Lady Sonia asked herself what Lady Sonia had done. Lady Sonia cursed herself out loud because Lady Sonia had to follow through no matter what second thoughts Lady Sonia had. The email was a promise and Lady Sonia always kept her promises. If Lady Sonia reneged now, how could Lady Sonia expect Thomas to trust her ever again?

Lady Sonia opened the copy of the email in her “sent” folder and stared at it for a half hour, reading and re-reading it. And, with every reading, Lady Sonia imagined a different way that her evening could unfold. The best Lady Sonia could hope for was utter degradation. Any other outcome was worse.

Dear Thomas:

Last week, you told me that you were unhappy in our marriage. I was surprised because I thought it was going pretty well. Since then, I have been thinking about what I might do to make you happier. You have told me on a number of occasions that you think that our sex life has become mundane. That I am not as adventurous now as when we were dating.

So I am going to change that tonight.

Join Lady Sonia

I am not coming home after work. Instead, I will go into the bar at 1529 Broadway called O’Reilly’s Pump at exactly 9:00, sit down, and begin entertaining sexual propositions from men. I do not expect that to take long because I will dress in a way that makes my intention obvious. My intention is this: I will get on my knees in the Men’s washroom and give a big, sloppy blow job to the first man who is willing to pay me twenty dollars.

If I cannot find any one who is willing to pay me even that paltry sum by 10:00, then I will start approaching men and offering to service them for free. One way or another, I will not leave the bar until I have swallowed some man’s cum. This is the promise that I make to you and to myself.

I hope with all my heart that you will be the man to buy my service, but if you chose to let someone else to make an offer first, I will not hesitate to give him a blow job instead.

My fate is in your hands.

I hope that this is the kind of sexual adventure that will make you happy.

Love,

Lady Sonia

Thomas read the email a second time. What the hell was this all about? He never told Lady Sonia that he wanted to get a blow job in a Men’s room in some seedy bar. And he sure as hell never told her that he wanted her to cheat on him with some stranger. What the hell was Lady Sonia thinking?

He raged because, after twenty years of marriage, he knew exactly what Lady Sonia was thinking. This was just another way for her to jerk him around. It seemed like Lady Sonia spent every minute of every day searching for some way to impose her will on him, complaining that he never helped out around the house, and when he did, complaining that he did everything wrong – demanding that he fold towels the same way that Lady Sonia folded them and demanding that he take out the garbage when Lady Sonia wanted it taken out.

And, of course, the ultimate battleground for their two-decade-long power struggle was the bedroom. When he wanted sex, denying him it gave her more power than allowing herself to be seduced, so they made love on her schedule – two or three times a month – rather than according to his needs; needs which became more urgent every time Lady Sonia looked at him with a twinkle in her eye, let him beg for a while, then decided that Lady Sonia wasn’t in the mood after all. And when Lady Sonia did let him make love to her, the rules were hers – in the bedroom, lights off, missionary position, and he better come quick or Lady Sonia’d find it too painful to let him continue to the end.

And now Lady Sonia was commanding him to show up at some bar at exactly 9:00 or Lady Sonia was going to give some stranger a blow job – a sexual act that Lady Sonia had always said was “too disgusting” to perform on him even as Lady Sonia told him with her next breath that Lady Sonia loved with all her heart.

He was so frustrated that he wanted to scream.

Shopping took longer than Lady Sonia expected – most of the afternoon. Who would have thought that it would take so long to find clothes that would make her look like a two-bit whore? It was true that Lady Sonia was a little old for the game – already over forty –but that shouldn’t have been a problem. Dressing two decades too young for her age would give her the exact look that Lady Sonia wanted: desperate and willing to do whatever Lady Sonia had to do to earn twenty bucks. The problem was that Lady Sonia was fifteen pounds overweight and those few extra pounds on her forty-year old body made her about six sizes too large to fit into the clothes that designed to make a twenty-year-old look like a slut.

But Lady Sonia was a trooper and was willing to squeeze into clothes that were a couple of sizes too small if that was required. Comfort was not her goal. Her only practical concern was that Lady Sonia had to be able to sink to her knees without ripping her skirt to shreds.

If her personal humiliation would make her husband happy, that was a price that Lady Sonia was willing to pay. Not a price that Lady Sonia wanted to pay; not a price that Lady Sonia was eager to pay; but one that Lady Sonia would pay for his sake. But Lady Sonia never expected that Lady Sonia would have to start paying so soon in such large denominations to so many condescending, skinnier-than-thou, minimum-wage teenage clerks in trendy clothing stores. The frank sneers and giggling whispers behind her back made her blush as Lady Sonia sorted through the racks of plus sized teen apparel. How did these clerks know that Lady Sonia was shopping for herself and not for a daughter? Maybe their first clue was that Lady Sonia was shopping alone and their second clue that Lady Sonia kept taking the clothes into the change room to try them on.

In Rue Chic, Lady Sonia managed to squeeze into a hot pink tube top in the dressing room. As Lady Sonia looked at herself in the full-length mirror, Lady Sonia hated the way her waist bulged and strained the double-stretch almost as much as Lady Sonia hated the way her nipples made such prominent bumps in the thin material. It was perfect. Lady Sonia wasn’t looking for clothes that Lady Sonia liked; or even clothes that flattered her; Lady Sonia was looking for clothes that made her look like Lady Sonia was available to anyone who cared to ask. And the way the skimpy top displayed cleavage all the way down to her nipples screamed that her boobs were available to one and all. Lady Sonia imagined that Thomaser – Lady Sonia had convinced herself that the man who would buy her services tonight would certainly be Thomaser; that was the only way Lady Sonia could force herself to do this – would want her to pull the top down to her waist while Lady Sonia was blowing him so that he could look watch her naked tits bounce as her head bobbed back and forth in a frenzy of licking and slobbering. This hateful scrap of clothing was the prefect top in every way.

The teenaged clerk gave her a smarmy grin as Lady Sonia passed her the bag and said, “Have a nice day, ma’am,” investing the final word with as much venom as possible.

Lady Sonia felt a fresh blush of shame and wanted to slap the little bitch; Lady Sonia only refrained because Lady Sonia would not give the little tart the satisfaction.

The scene was repeated at Lilly’s Boutique where Lady Sonia found a little black miniskirt that was short – the hem rode more than two inches above her knee – and uncomfortably tight. Before Lady Sonia left the change room, Lady Sonia looked in the mirror closely, then took a blue pen from her purse and marked a small line slightly less than halfway between the hem and her crotch. The line was hard to see on the black material, but Lady Sonia knew that Lady Sonia would be able to find it when Lady Sonia looked for it later. The skirt was already short, but it would be a lot shorter before Lady Sonia wore it out tonight.

The slender, blonde, teenaged clerk called her, “dear,” a term usually used to condescend to senior citizens, in a tone of precisely calculated distain. Lady Sonia ignored the clerk and worried about the skirt. Lady Sonia was going to have to hike it up to her crotch before kneeling down otherwise it would split at the seam for certain. Lady Sonia could look forward to one more little inescapable humiliation in the Men’s room at O’Reilly’s. When Lady Sonia thought about hiking the skirt up, Lady Sonia realized that her choice of panty style and colour was going to matter.

Lady Sonia would have preferred going out bare-legged, but the skirt would be short enough to reveal a little spiderweb of varicose veins halfway up her right thigh, even when Lady Sonia was standing up, and Lady Sonia worried that that would reduce her desirability or, Lady Sonia should say, salability, when Lady Sonia put herself on the market tonight.

Lady Sonia could not wear a bra with the top, even if Lady Sonia wanted to; and finding black stockings, garter belt, and a scarlet thong in her size was easy. Lady Sonia could have chosen a black thong to match the miniskirt or a pink one to match the top, but it was important that the thong contrast with the skirt and stockings as much as possible; Lady Sonia wanted men to have no doubt about what they were seeing when Lady Sonia had to part her legs to move or when her skirt hiked up accidentally. Lady Sonia was not a natural exhibitionist and hated the thought that anyone would see more than was modest and proper; Lady Sonia would do her best to minimize the frequency and severity of her indiscretions. But, realistically, indiscretions would happen no matter how alert Lady Sonia was and how careful Lady Sonia moved. By the time Lady Sonia got to the Men’s room, Lady Sonia would have no shred of self respect left, but Lady Sonia would fight to keep as much dignity as possible before that final, inevitable degradation. That would make her feel every little humiliation along the way all the more keenly.

Join Lady Sonia

As Lady Sonia bought the garter belt, Lady Sonia fretted about the miniskirt that was in the trunk of her car. It was going to be very short by the time Lady Sonia was ready to wear it and the garter belt straps were only adjustable to a limited degree. Even with the stockings pulled as high as possible, Lady Sonia wondered how much of the rigging would be visible below the hem. Lady Sonia was sick with fear that the hem of the skirt would be too high and the stockings too low, showing more than Lady Sonia wanted. But Lady Sonia was already committed to wearing the entire ensemble, no matter how it looked when Lady Sonia finally saw it all together.

Pink, strappy, open-toed shoes with three-inch stilettos completed her hooker outfit. If those shoes didn’t shout, “fuck me!” to the entire world then nothing would.

Lady Sonia could not return home and risk running into Thomas prematurely, so Lady Sonia checked into a cheap motel and spent the next hour sitting in the crumby room, working on the miniskirt. Lady Sonia had brought a pair of tailor scissors with her and immediately began cutting at the pen mark that Lady Sonia had made in the change room in the store. After chopping a good three inches of material off the bottom, Lady Sonia used a black thread and a needle to re-hem them by hand.

After her alteration, Lady Sonia looked at the skirt in her hands and wondered if Lady Sonia had cut off too much. Would this scrap of material even cover her crotch? Lady Sonia hoped to hell that Lady Sonia had marked the skirt properly in the store because Lady Sonia was going to wear them in public this evening, no matter what kind of mistake Lady Sonia might have made.

Lady Sonia would not get dressed until the last minute for fear that if Lady Sonia had time to think about what Lady Sonia looked like after seeing herself in the entire ensemble, Lady Sonia would lose her nerve and flee home in shame. Failing to keep her promise would be the worst humiliation possible. So unthinkable, that Lady Sonia simply refused to think about it.

Her stomach was already twisted into knots too tight to eat and her mind was too distressed to follow even a simple television program. So Lady Sonia just sat quietly as the sun sank lower in the sky and let her multitude of fears torture her, watching the clock tick the minutes away.

Lady Sonia hoped that Thomas understood and appreciated the hell that Lady Sonia was putting herself through just to give him a bit of excitement.

There was no way he would ever call her mundane again.

The more Thomas thought about his wife’s email, the angrier he grew. He was sick and tired of dancing to her tune. For the sake of the kids, he had put up with her sniping and bitching for a long, long time. But Samantha would be starting university in two months and David had already been living in the dorms for two years; they did not need him at home any longer. This summer, he had barely seen either one of them – they were out with friends every night until all hours. Since Sam’s birth, he had been counting down the years of their childhood like a convict marking off a twenty-year sentence; now it was time for him to be paroled. God knows, he’d earned a little time off for good behaviour.

The only question was whether he should take his freedom today or tomorrow or next week. There was no question that he would be gone by Thanksgiving. He might be celebrating alone, but it would be the first Thanksgiving in memory when he would truly be thankful rather than just maintaining a pretense.

Lady Sonia’s email promised that Lady Sonia was going to be out of the house at 9:00 tonight and Lady Sonia always kept her promises. He could drop by the house, pack a bag, and be gone before Lady Sonia got back.

As for her little “adventure” in some bar, Lady Sonia could do whatever the hell Lady Sonia wanted. Blow every barfly in the place for all he cared. Or get smart, walk out unscathed, and keep her prissy little mouth virginal forever. Lady Sonia was an adult, for Christ’s sake. Lady Sonia wanted to be the one to make every decision? Well, this was her decision. Lady Sonia was welcome to it and Lady Sonia would damn well have to live with the result.

After Lady Sonia parked, Lady Sonia pulled the visor down and took a last look at her face in the fading summer sunset. The sky-blue eye shadow looked like it had been applied with a shovel; thick black eyeliner outlined her lids in a crude imitation of the ‘60s mod style; and her laLady Sonias hung so heavy with mascara that they looked false. Her lips were painted full with the brightest scarlet Lady Sonia could find – a hue that begged to be left in perfect ring around the root of someone’s – Thomaser’s – cock. The rest of her face was bare – no foundation, no concealer, not even a touch of rouge to hide behind. A man could grab it, hold it, rub his cock across it, spray his cum over it, without any concern about smudging or smearing her.

Lady Sonia was only a single step away from a busy downtown street and seeing the whore’s face staring back from the mirror made her heart pound harder than ever.

The automobile clock read 8:59. The hour of truth had arrived. Lady Sonia grabbed the little black purse that contained a single twenty dollar bill, her keys, and nothing else; and opened her car door.

There was no way to step out without spreading her legs and flashing that lipstick-colored thong to anyone who was driving past. Broadway was a busy street in the evening; no time would be any better than right now. Just as Lady Sonia put her left foot on the asphalt, Lady Sonia glanced up and saw wide eyes peering from a passing car window. That was one teenage boy who would soon be having a wet dream about a woman old enough to be his mother.

Lady Sonia hated to think that Lady Sonia was contributing to the delinquency of minors, so, before any more cars zipped by, Lady Sonia slid her second leg out as quickly as possible, stood up, and pulled the hem of the miniskirt as far down as Lady Sonia could. It did not pull very far down – as Lady Sonia had suspected, not even far enough to hide the snaps that clipped the top of the stockings to the garter belt. If that wasn’t whorish enough, nothing would be.

As Lady Sonia walked the block and a half to the bar, Lady Sonia glanced at herself in the darkened store windows. Lady Sonia saw glimpses of the same slut that Lady Sonia had seen in the motel mirror – breasts bouncing like two excited puppies, threatening to escape from the too-tight tube top at every step; a clear sliver of bare white thigh slipping into view at stocking top every time the miniskirt hem flicked sideways as the too-high heels forced her hips to swivel from one side to the other; and an ass, unmarked by any visible panty line, bulging and squirming inside the too-tight skirt like bread dough being kneaded by an invisible baker.

Lady Sonia felt the cooling evening air blowing around her bare thighs all the way up to her naked ass cheeks, making her feel as though Lady Sonia were naked all the way up to her crotch despite the visual confirmation that the miniskirt did indeed cover her almost down to the tops of the stockings.

Lady Sonia had to fight the urge to reach up and hike the tube top higher – Lady Sonia had difficulty convincing herself that it only felt like it was slipping further off her boobs with every step. More than once, Lady Sonia could not resist glancing down at her chest to make sure that Lady Sonia was not revealing the rosy edge of her areolas above the hot pink fabric. Not yet, at least.

Join Lady Sonia

Lady Sonia felt relief when Lady Sonia finally reached the door of the bar, even though, intellectually, Lady Sonia knew that, at this threshold, Lady Sonia was truly stepping from the frying pan into the fire.

Lady Sonia had never been inside the bar before, but had walked past a few times last week and had even parked for a while to watch patrons entering and leaving, so Lady Sonia had a good idea about what to expect. O’Reilly’s was a working man’s bar. Not antiseptic, not even very clean, but not a scum hole, either. The kind of place where some men came to drink a few beers with their buddies once a week, mostly just to get away from the wife and kids; where other men would stop after a shift on the assembly line and try to wash the taste of the factory out of their mouth. It was a place where neither wives nor girlfriends were welcome. The occasional hooker would stop by, but the trade was too slim to support one full time. Sluts were tolerated as long as they were willing to pay for most of their own drinks and didn’t demand too much attention.

It was a bar where Lady Sonia would be neither welcomed nor driven off, but tolerated for as long as Lady Sonia wiLady Soniad to stay.

As her over-high heels forced her to sashay to the bar, Lady Sonia surveyed the room. Every eye in the place looked back at her. And every one of those eyes was male – on Monday evenings business was too slow for real hookers and the sluts were still sleeping off their weekend debaucheries.

There were no booths, just a handful of tables with chairs and a row of stools at the bar. There were a dozen customers drinking at three of the tables and another five seated on the barstools.

Certain that Lady Sonia had missed him, Lady Sonia surveyed the room again with growing dismay, as Lady Sonia confirmed that Thomaser was nowhere in the bar.

Her heart sank.

Lady Sonia chose the stool that was furthest from any other customers – it happened to be close to the centre of the bar because the other customers were clustered at the ends – and sat down.

As her legs bent, Lady Sonia could feel the way-too-short skirt hike up past her stocking tops so that her bare thighs and a good piece of her ass stuck to the brown fake leather. The chrome edge drew a cold line across the naked backs of her upper legs.

The men in the room were not looking at her face; their eyes were focused on her legs, ass, and tits. Lady Sonia felt herself blush; a modest woman wearing an outfit this indecent would have no need for rouge.

Lady Sonia did not impress the fiftyish bartender one way or the other. He had seen it all and couldn’t care less. He left her sitting for a good five minutes while he pulled a pitcher for one of the regulars and chatted about the game yesterday. When it was convenient for him, he sauntered down to her and asked, “What can I get ya, miss?”

Lady Sonia glanced involuntarily at her bare ring finger – Lady Sonia had left her wedding ring at home as her one and only concession to good taste – and said, “Coke. No ice, please.”

“Costs the same as if you get some rum in it.”

“No thanks. Just Coke. No ice.” Lady Sonia had decided early in the afternoon that Lady Sonia would not be drinking tonight – Lady Sonia wanted to keep her head crystal clear to ensure that Lady Sonia felt every iota of humiliation as sharply as possible. And it was working. Nothing had really happened yet and Lady Sonia already felt more deeply humiliated than at any other time in her entire life. And that was saying something – high school had not been kind to Lady Sonia.

While the bartender was drawing her Coke, Lady Sonia kept her eyes down, staring at the scarred wood, and wondering where Thomaser was and what he was doing. Lady Sonia had given him the option of leaving her here alone and forcing her to give a blowjob to a stranger – Lady Sonia had been explicit about that in her email – but Lady Sonia had never imagined that he would take her up on that offer.

“Four-fifty,” the barkeep said as he puLady Soniad the glass toward her.

It would have been a cheap rum and coke, but it was a damned expensive glass of pop. Lady Sonia passed him the twenty from her purse and he went to fetch her change.

The thought occurred to her that he might have failed to receive her email, or failed to read it, but Lady Sonia dismissed that out of hand. Lady Sonia knew that Lady Sonia had the address right because it had not bounced back and Lady Sonia knew for a fact that he never left the office until he had read everything in his inbox. He conducted too much critical business by email to be lax about that.

That was a pity because, right now, Lady Sonia wanted nothing more in the world than to have an excuse to get up and leave this bar while Lady Sonia was still unsullied.

But lacking the excuse of a failed communication, there were two other, far more likely, possibilities. Either he wanted her to suck off a stranger in the Men’s room of some seedy bar – maybe he even had had fantasies about it – or he thought that Lady Sonia wanted to do it and did not care enough, or cared too much, to interfere. It seemed unlikely that he thought Lady Sonia wanted to blow a stranger because Lady Sonia said explicitly in her email that Lady Sonia hoped that he would be the one to purchase her services tonight.

That left only the first possibility – that Lady Sonia would soon be on her knees in the Men’s room with a strange cock in her mouth because that was exactly where her husband wanted her. Well, Lady Sonia was determined to give him exactly what he wanted. Her head turned about of its own accord and her eyes stared for a long time at the dirty little sign that read “Restrooms” over the alcove at the far side of the bar.

Join Lady Sonia

For the first time, it occurred to her that Lady Sonia could have specified the Lady’s room. Until now, Lady Sonia had only thought about the Men’s because that was the more degrading option by a slight measure.

Now another thought occurred to her. If Thomaser wanted her to suck off a stranger, was he going to require that, when Lady Sonia got home, Lady Sonia tell him about the whole experience in excruciating detail? Was that the thrill that he craved? Recalling the act for his amusement would be even more degrading than performing the act itself. And if Lady Sonia confessed every detail of her act, was he going to bring it up again and again every time they had some little spat for the rest of their lives? Every time he got angry, would he remind her once again that Lady Sonia had once been an unfaithful slut?

That thought incited a twinge of anger that fortified her a little for the night ahead. If he started holding this against her, Lady Sonia could always remind him that her perfidy was a result of his choices: first to accuse her of being sexually boring and mundane; and second, not to rescue her from her self-assigned fate.

Two could play the blame game.

Thomaser threw the suitcase in the trunk of his car, came around to the driver’s side, hopped in and started the engine.

For the first time since his twenties, he felt like a free man. He could go anywhere he wanted, do anything he wanted. And the first thing that he wanted was to make his escape before Lady Sonia showed up. If Lady Sonia had come to her senses and given up her silly game before Lady Sonia even got to the bar; Lady Sonia would be pulling around the corner at any minute. Or Lady Sonia could have blown some guy in her first five minutes and still be pulling around the corner at any minute. He knew one sure thing from his years of experience: sex with Lady Sonia was always a quick business. And he knew that he did not want to have to spend the rest of the night explaining why he was leaving. He had not even written a note – Lady Sonia could spend all the time Lady Sonia needed figuring it out during all the leisure time that Lady Sonia would have in the coming years. Not being able to rag on him constantly would give her endless free time.

Besides, if he had left a note, one of the kids might have found it before Lady Sonia did. They weren’t likely to get back until after midnight, but who knew how long Lady Sonia might have to spend trying to find some man who would actually want her frumpy forty-year-old body. Lady Sonia might not come home until the bar closed; and there was nothing that he would say in a note that he wanted his children to read.

Without further contemplation, he hit the road.

As Lady Sonia was getting to the bottom of her Coke, Lady Sonia heard a burst of laughter behind her. Lady Sonia had spent the last twenty minutes nursing her Coke as slowly as possible and had not dared to look around. Lady Sonia clung desperately to the hope that Thomaser would still show up to rescue her and Lady Sonia was afraid of inadvertently encouraging some other man to approach her. In her fantasies, Lady Sonia had imagined that Lady Sonia would have been bolder from the outset. That if Thomaser were a no-show, Lady Sonia would have begun acting like a real hooker immediately, turning around and making eye contact with the customers, enticing likely johns with a coy smile, actively soliciting interest in the wares that Lady Sonia was putting on display, open to all offers.

Instead, Lady Sonia was sitting here like a wallflower at a high school formal, too shy to meet a fella, knowing that Lady Sonia would go home again without having danced a single step.

Which was exactly what Lady Sonia wanted. The only man Lady Sonia wanted to dance with was her husband – the man Lady Sonia loved.

But Lady Sonia wasn’t going to get what Lady Sonia wanted. If Thomaser failed to show up damn soon, Lady Sonia’d be dancing on her knees with her lips around someone else’s cock, however much Lady Sonia hated the idea.

Lady Sonia prayed with all her heart that Thomaser would walk through the door right now, whisk her off to the Men’s room for their exciting adventure, and then take her safely home where they would collapse in gales of laughter about their bold walk on the wild side.

For a second, Lady Sonia thought that her dreams had come true; a bass voice mumbled in her ear, “Hey, babe, want to have some fun tonight?” exactly the way Lady Sonia expected Thomas to come on to her when he entered into the spirit of the game.

But, when Lady Sonia turned, Lady Sonia saw a grizzled man ten years younger than her with a five o’clock shadow and bloodshot eyes leering at her.

Thomas was MIA and it was time to complete the promise that Lady Sonia had made to herself. Lady Sonia replied in what Lady Sonia hoped was a sultry voice, “You look like a fun guy. I’m ready if you are. What did you have in mind?”

“Maybe let me buy you a drink and we can talk about it.”

“No need for a drink. Let’s just talk about it now.” Lady Sonia licked her lips and leaned close, giving him a good shot of her cleavage. As though on a string, his head bobbed down, the better to enjoy the view.

“Maybe you’d just like to get it on with me?” he said, boldly.

Lady Sonia presumed that ‘get it on’ meant regular sex, so Lady Sonia countered with, “I think maybe I could make you happier with a nice big sloppy blow job.” Her ears burned with shame as Lady Sonia said the crude words, but there it was, right out on the table. No misunderstanding possible.

“Would you like that?” The young man raised his eyebrows.

“I’d love that,” Lady Sonia lied with a smile, drawing out the word, ‘love,’ as long and lasciviously as Lady Sonia could.

“Okay,” he drawled the word the same way while his whole face broke into a broad smile.

“I’ll need twenty dollars up front.”

Now it was the man who turned red. “I don’t pay for it, lady. I don’t need to pay for it.”

“Do you have a job?”

“Of course I do. I have a good job down at the docks.”

“Do you work for free?”

Join Lady Sonia

“Hell no.”

“Well, I don’t work for free, either. Twenty bucks isn’t much, but that’s what I charge.”

“Twenty buck is more than your fat old ass is worth. I can get a lot of beer for twenty bucks and that much beer’ll make me feel a lot better than you can.”

“Don’t be so sure about that, son. I can make you feel damn good.” But her words were wasted. The man was already heading back to his friends. After a minute, their laugher turned nasty and Lady Sonia heard the word, whore, being thrown about with abandon.

Join Lady Sonia

Lady Sonia had thought that having to suck off a strange man in a Men’s room would be the ultimate humiliation, but being told that Lady Sonia was too old to be worth even a measly twenty dollars was an altogether more degrading experience.

No matter. The word was out and someone would pay her soon enough.

And then Lady Sonia would no longer be playing whore. Lady Sonia would actually be one.

Having no particular destination in mind, Thomas drove toward downtown – it was natural – there was nothing happening in the suburbs that would interest a single man, footloose and carefree.

It was only natural that his meandering would take him close to Broadway, but not entirely accidental that he turned left toward the seedier end of the street instead of right toward the centre of town.

What was that place that Lady Sonia said Lady Sonia was going? O’Malley’s? O’Brian’s? Something Irish. O’Reilly’s! That was the place. The one right there across the street! Lady Sonia could be in there right now, even as he was driving past.

Thomas slowed down as much as traffic permitted and tried to peer through the window, but he could see nothing but a dark blur. Lady Sonia probably wasn’t even there. It was already 9:30. Whatever Lady Sonia had decided, it had to be over by now.

But a block further, he saw her gold-coloured Honda parked by the curb. Damn, Lady Sonia must be still inside trying to find someone brave enough to let her wrap her vicious little mouth around their pecker.

He whipped a U-turn, parked in the first empty spot, and walked back toward the bar. He did not kid himself about finding this place by accident, or about having some deep subconscious needs. He freely admitted to himself that he had become curious about what was happening. He wanted to know if Lady Sonia were really going through with her plan.

And he was more than a little curious about the line in her email where Lady Sonia said that Lady Sonia would “dress in a way that would make her intentions obvious.” He wanted to see what his prissy little wife thought a fuck-me outfit looked like. This was the woman who had insisted on wearing flannel pyjamas to bed every night since their honeymoon. Lady Sonia had whined, “But I get cold,” so often that he could swear that he could hear her walking behind him, right now, complaining that Lady Sonia deserved to be comfortable in bed. Her idea of sexy clothes probably included baggy blue jeans, a freshly-pressesd sweatshirt, and a beige bra designed by a certified structural engineer.

He would just peek in the window for a laugh before he moved on.

‘Okay,’ Lady Sonia told herself, ‘the ice is broken now. I’ve made an offer and set my price. It’s almost 9:30, Thomas has decided to make me go through with it, so it’s time to find a john, close the sale, and then get the hell out of here.’

Lady Sonia swallowed the last vestiges of her pride along with the last of her Coke and turned around on her stool. Lady Sonia began looking at the men in the room, one at a time, ready to negotiate with one of these men for the privilege of paying her twenty dollars and letting her suck his cock to an orgasm as quickly as he could manage. Hell, twenty bucks was almost nothing and Lady Sonia was sure that most of these guys weren’t too proud to take advantage of a bargain like that.

At first, Lady Sonia avoided looking at the table where the young man who had previously rejected her offer was sitting. Undoubtedly, to demonstrate their solidarity his friends had already agreed that Lady Sonia wasn’t worthy of any of them.

The feeling was mutual.

As Lady Sonia looked at the men, Lady Sonia could not help but form opinions about them, to try to imagine whose cock would be the least distasteful to suck. Maybe a young Richard Gere was slumming in here somewhere. A twenty-buck whore couldn’t afford standards, but Lady Sonia would be allowed preferences. If the truth were known, Lady Sonia wasn’t even that keen to suck Thomas’s cock, but Lady Sonia was sure that one of these men would be better than the others. As Lady Sonia surveyed the room, Lady Sonia a shocking truth slowly dawned on her. While Lady Sonia had been sitting here, nursing her Coke and moping about Thomaser’s abandonment, the men behind her had not been sitting idle. They had been whispering among themselves, passing the young man’s story being told from table to table.

And now, every single man in this bar knew that her price was twenty bucks for a blow job and every single one of them had a twenty lying on the table in front of him. Even the young man who had previously blown her off was now fingering a twenty and grinning at her like the devil himself. Not one of these men had taken the money out of their wallets to buy another round of beer.

The whole bar had been quietly waiting for her to finish her drink and get to work.

Thomas had an inspiration. If he were going to get a divorce, he would need grounds. What better grounds than that his wife had begun engaging in prostitution? Not only would the grounds be adultery, but he could present a pattern of illegal activity. Any judge in the state would be so disgusted that he wouldn’t even listen to a question of alimony. He’d just tell her that Lady Sonia could fall on her back and earn her own damn alimony. Hell, Thomas would only have to threatening to expose her disgusting behavior in open court Lady Sonia would scurry away without the word, alimony, ever passing her lips.

He slipped into the bar.

Of course, Lady Sonia noticed him as soon as he entered – it was a small bar and Lady Sonia was turned on her stool to face the door as well. He grinned at her, shrugged, and sat in a chair at the nearest empty table.

The whole room was silent, expectant. Something was about to happen.

A man at the next chair leaned over to him and said in a stage whisper, “Lady Sonia’s a hooker. Lady Sonia’s going to give us all blow jobs for twenty bucks apiece.”

Thomas looked around, astoniLady Soniad, and said, “All of you?”

“Yup. That’s what they say. All comers. Get your money out.”

“Twenty bucks?”

“Yup. That’s her rate. That’s what Lady Sonia told the guy over there. I haven’t heard of a blow job that cheap since the eighties, but who’m I to look a gift whore in the mouth?” His giggle sounded like gravel rattling in a tin bucket.

Join Lady Sonia

Thomas looked back at his wife. Lady Sonia sure looked like a gift whore. Her dress was so short that he could see garter straps stretching half way up her ass cheeks and her tits were hanging half out of a tiny Mary-Kay-colored tube top that was stretched practically to the breaking point.

Who would have guessed that his prissy little lady had it in her to costume herself like a back alley street walker?

Lady Sonia was frozen in fear. Looking at the tableau that could have been created solely for his amusement, he could see exactly the pretty little pickle that Lady Sonia had gotten herself into. Lady Sonia thought that Lady Sonia was going to cherry pick some young stud but had greatly underestimated the dynamics of a group or horny men. There was no way Lady Sonia was going to be allowed to leave without servicing every stallion in the stable. And some of these stallions were not only past their prime, they were one step away from the glue factory.

Before the night was over, Lady Sonia was going to see more skin diseases close up than a resident dermatologist working a full shift in a leper colony.

After these men got through with her, her mouth was going to be dirtier than a city sewer pipe. He wouldn’t ever put his own cock into that hole. He’d never been allowed to fuck her mouth before tonight and he wasn’t ever going to want to to fuck it afterward. Kind of a pity, they way those lips were painted bright red like that, they looked damned hot. He felt a stir in his groin despite himself.

The only man in the joint who wasn’t fingering his money with one hand and his personal joint with the other was the bartender.

Thomas was going to have to get his name so he could subpoena him as a witness in the divorce proceedings.

Lady Sonia almost collapsed with relief when Lady Sonia saw Thomas walk through the door. No damsel had ever been as happy to see a white knight coming to her rescue as Lady Sonia at that moment. Lady Sonia tried to keep her composure, but felt her eyes tear up in gratitude.

Then her husband sat down on the far side of the room and grinned at her.

Lady Sonia silently cursed him. He was so dumb that he couldn’t understand how much trouble Lady Sonia was in. He didn’t have any time to waste. Lady Sonia needed him up here with her right now, offering his protection, not sitting back there, waiting to be served a drink.

Even as Lady Sonia held her breath, expecting him to make his move at any moment, someone else moved first. An old man with greasy white hair and a sagging pot belly heaved himself out of his chair, clutching his money in a grimy, nicotine-stained fist, waved it in the air and shouted, “I’m too old to wait any longer. My money’s as good as the next man’s. Let’s get this show on the road.” As he yelled, Lady Sonia saw that he had only a few snaggly yellow teeth left in his mouth.

Lady Sonia had promised that Lady Sonia would service the first man who made her an offer. That was the rule. So Lady Sonia told herself that the geezer had not yet made an offer because he had not yet mentioned trading his money for any specific sexual act.

Lady Sonia had to act now and the only thing that Lady Sonia could do was to slip off the stool, go to Thomas and ask him what the hell he was doing back there.

Her skirt caught on the sweaty fake leather and hiked all the way up to completely uncover both ass cheeks and flash a clear outline of her pussy pressing against the thin red material that covered her crotch. Lady Sonia was beyond worrying about the niceties but the men in the bar were not. There was an audible collective gasp at the accidental partial strip tease and the sexual tension in the room rose another notch.

Thomas looked at her with new appreciation.

As Lady Sonia puLady Soniad past the old man who was waving his twenty dollar bill in her face, Lady Sonia ignored what he was saying. So intently was Lady Sonia concentrating on getting to her saviour that, in all honesty, Lady Sonia could not say if he had made an actual offer to pay for a blow job or not.

Following the old man’s lead, several other men waved their money in her direction and began shouting, but the rising cacophony of conflicting voices rendered them all unintelligible. Lady Sonia heard the words, “blow job,” more than once, but was unable to make out any specific offer.

At least that’s what Lady Sonia told herself. And, given a little time, Lady Sonia knew that Lady Sonia would be able to convince herself that it was true.

Someone grabbed at her right tit and a couple of others snatched at her ass, but Lady Sonia shook their paws off and kept tottering toward Thomas on those precarious heels.

When Lady Sonia finally made it to his table, Lady Sonia slid into the chair next to him, leaned over and said, “Thank God you’re here, Thomas. I was scared stiff.”

The cacophony abated somewhat; the other men in the room understood that Lady Sonia had chosen her first customer and were willing to wait their turn, at least for a while. By and large, everyone turned back to their own business, but eyes kept sneaking peeks in Lady Sonia’s direction, half expecting that Lady Sonia was going to start servicing the man right there in the middle of the bar and not wanting to miss any part of her ongoing free sex show.

“I can see why. You’ve got quite a fan club here. I’ve never seen so many hard- ons in one place in my life. You can smell the lust all the way out the door. You’re a raging success, dear. A raging success. I figure, if you get started right away, you’ll be finiLady Soniad by midnight. That assumes that no one wants seconds and not many more men arrive. But if word spreads outside, to the other bars on the strip, you may be here until well after closing time. You better get to it before word spreads because, even in the best case, your knees are going to be on fire and your jaw’ll be aching something awful before you’re done. But if you swallow every drop you milk, you won’t leave here hungry. That’s for damn sure. There’s enough jizm collecting in those sacs to fill you up good. You’re a hell of a woman to volunteer for this duty. A hell of a woman.”

Lady Sonia began to cry. Big fat tears ran down her cheeks – it was fortunate that Lady Sonia had used waterproof eyeliner and mascara; and that Lady Sonia had no other makeup on her face. “Why are you doing this to me, Thomas? I don’t understand. I’m your wife. You have to help me.”

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“Hell, no, I don’t. For twenty years you’ve insisted that you know better than me about every little thing from how I should pay the bills to how often the oil needs to be changed in the car. And every time I said anything about it, you launch into a screaming fit and freeze me out of the bedroom for another week. And you made it damn clear that if we ever broke up, you were going to take the children and I’d never see them without supervision again. That was one of your damned unbreakable promises. Remember? Well, that ends now. You made this decision on your own, so you can damn well live with it.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so angry at me. This is something that I’m doing for you. You said that you wanted me to be more adventurous so here I am, being as adventurous as I know how.”

“So don’t do it. Just get up and walk out of here.”

Lady Sonia looked at him with teary eyes. “I can’t. I made you a promise and I’ll never break my word to you. Never. That’s the one thing that you can count on, no matter what.”

“Then you’re stuck, aren’t you? Tough luck for you.”

“Please let me take you into the bathroom and suck your cock. Please. That’s all I want. That’s all I wanted all day.”

“No.”

“Please. I’m begging you. Let me suck you off and I’ll do anything you tell me to do. Anything. Please.” Lady Sonia grabbed his hand and squeezed all her desperation into it.

He was silent for a long time, then said, “Anything I want?”

“Anything. That’s a promise.”

“An unbreakable promise?”

“Yes.”

He was silent for another long period. Someone in the back of the bar yelled out, “Come on, guy. Get on with it. We’re all waiting.”

He looked around at the leering faces, then back into his wife’s eyes. Then he pulled out his wallet, pressed a twenty dollar bill half into her cleavage and said loudly, “Okay, baby. Here’s twenty bucks to suck my cock. And you better earn every penny of it.”

“Thank-you,” Lady Sonia sobbed quietly, and pulled him toward the Men’s room to a chorus of cheers, the twenty dollar bill sticking out of the tube top, showing all the world could see how much Lady Sonia was worth.

Thomas let her close the bathroom door, then leaned against it.

Lady Sonia said, “Thank-you, dear.”

“Don’t ‘dear’ me. You’re just a whore and I’m just a john so get on with the job.” His voice was cold.

“Yes, sir,” Lady Sonia replied in a shaky voice. Lady Sonia raised her miniskirt to her hips, revealing her bare ass and tiny thong in all its glory for his inspection, then sank to her knees before him. The floor was filthy, the smell of stale urine atrocious; it was exactly the degrading ambiance that Lady Sonia had imagined all week. Lady Sonia unbuckled his belt, unsnapped his waistband, and then carefully pulled down his zipper. Lady Sonia did not want to catch any bit of skin and put him out of the mood. Lady Sonia felt as though her life depended on doing this right. Lady Sonia wasn’t too far wrong about that.

He gave her no help whatsoever beyond thrusting his crotch toward her face, but Lady Sonia managed to slip his pants over his hips and down to his knees. His boxers soon followed. He was already erect, for which Lady Sonia was thankful.

Lady Sonia looked up at his face with an expression that approximated adoration, then grabbed the top edge of her tube top and pulled it down to her waist, letting her tits spring free.

Thomas smiled down at her when Lady Sonia did that. It was not a loving smile.

Lady Sonia began licking gently, alternating swirls around the head of his cock with strokes down the length of the shaft. After a minute of that, Lady Sonia took the head into her mouth, opened her jaws wide to keep her teeth out of the way, and gently sucked while bobbing her head slowly back and forth, drawing more of him into her mouth with every pull until he was pressing against the back of her throat.

Lady Sonia kept swallowing hard to keep her gag reflex under control while Lady Sonia took more and more of him.

While Lady Sonia worked him with her mouth, Lady Sonia squeezed and massaged the base of his cock with both hands.

As his breathing deepened and he began moaning and thrusting forward to meet her, Lady Sonia worked him faster and faster, feeling her tits flopping and banging against her chest in wild abandon.

Listening to him moan louder and deeper, Lady Sonia realized that Lady Sonia was good at this. Really good. Who would have guessed that Lady Sonia would be such a naturally talented cocksucker?

When he came, thick and long into her mouth, Lady Sonia began swallowing. And swallowing. Never before had Lady Sonia realized how long a man’s orgasm could last. During all their years of normal lovemaking, Lady Sonia had thought that he had just squirted into her a couple of times and that was the end of it. Now, though, experiencing his orgasm so intimately, Lady Sonia realized that after the main ejaculation there were a series of secondary contractions where nothing much came out, but still kept him gasping with pleasure.

Lady Sonia was happy to stay on her knees on the filthy floor, keeping him in her mouth, gently licking and sucking him clean until he had gone completely soft again.

Finally, Lady Sonia gently raised his boxers and pants and then began refastening them.

Only when Lady Sonia had redressed him completely, did Lady Sonia rise to her feet, put her arms around him, press her naked breasts into her shirt, bow her head against his neck and say, “Thank-you. That was wonderful.”

He merely replied, “You owe me a favor, now. You promised that you would do anything that I tell you if I let you suck me off.”

Lady Sonia nodded into his neck and whispered, “Yes. Anything. You only have to ask and I will do it.”

“Good. I want you to pull your panties off, go out there, pull your skirt up to your waist, bend over a chair, and invite every man in the place to fuck you in the ass.”

Lady Sonia looked up at his face, not believing what Lady Sonia had heard. As the meaning of his words sunk in, Lady Sonia began to shake uncontrollably. “What?”

“You heard me. You promised that you would to do whatever I asked. Unconditionally. I’m asking you to let every man in this bar fuck you up the ass. Actually, I want you to beg them to fuck you up the ass. For free. Your imminent mass ass fucking is on the house. Are you going to renege on your promise to me?”

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Lady Sonia began sobbing.

Thomas let her sob, felt her soaking his shirt with her tears, and waited to see what Lady Sonia would say.

After a long time, Lady Sonia said, “They’ll tear my asshole wide open. I’ll have to go the emergency ward when all those men are through with me.” Her voice was shaking so badly that Lady Sonia could barely form the words.

“So? What concern is that to me? I don’t care if you have to get your asshole stitched back together when these guys are done with you. That’s your pain, not mine. Are you going to honor your promise to me or not.”

Her voice was shaking even worse when Lady Sonia said. “You know that I’ll never break a promise, no matter what the cost.”

“Okay, then. Get to it.” He was implacable.

“Can I have some lubrication? Can I at least try to avoid some of the damage?”

“I couldn’t care less. Lube all you want. You got some KY on you?”

“No. I didn’t think I’d need any lube to give you a blowjob.”

“Looks like your plans weren’t quite as complete as you thought.” He shrugged. “Go ask the bartender if he has any butter. That’ll work well enough for a slut like you. Don’t worry. After the first few men have broken you in, your asshole will be gaping open wide enough to admit a subway train. Which is apt because you’re going to be pulling a hell of a train tonight.”

Lady Sonia wiped her eyes as best Lady Sonia could and then left the bathroom. A chorus of catcalls and crude comments greeted her and followed her all the way to the bar. This time, though, no one grabbed at her. All the men in the room had formed a line across the bar, each waiting patiently for his own turn with her. This was the train that Lady Sonia was going to start pulling in a few minutes.

Only Lady Sonia and Thomas knew what a treat was in store for them; one far more special than they had yet imagined.

When Lady Sonia got to the bar, the bartender said, “What’ll it be, miss? Another Coke to wash away the taste? Or maybe now you need something strong enough to wash away the memory? I recommend a few vodka shooters.”

Lady Sonia tried to speak, but her voice failed her. Then Lady Sonia tried again and succeeded in croaking, “Do you have any butter? I need a lot of butter.”

“Yeah. I got butter back in the kitchen. But you’ll have to pay for it. We don’t give nothing away for free around here.”

‘I’ll be giving something away for free pretty soon,’ Lady Sonia thought to herself, but said nothing like that. Instead, Lady Sonia carefully placed the twenty dollars that Thomas had paid her on the bar and said, “I need as much butter as that will buy.”

“That’ll buy enough for whatever you got in mind,” the bartender replied, looking down at her crotch, guessing what was in store for her. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He scooped up the bill.

True to his word, he returned with a large tub of soft margarine. “That’s half gone, but I imagine that what’s left in there should do you for the rest of the night.”

Lady Sonia carried the margarine back to the Men’s room, cradling it like it was the crown jewels. Thomas was standing in the alcove right outside the door where he had been able to watch her, waiting to see if Lady Sonia made a break for the exit. When Lady Sonia walked back to him without even looking at the door to the street, he had to admit that Lady Sonia was being a hell of a trooper right to the end.

Lady Sonia carried the margarine inside. Lady Sonia didn’t have to let every man in the bar watch her butter up her own asshole; Thomas had not mentioned that in his request. Though he probably would have if he had thought of it.

Lady Sonia let him watch her through the open door as Lady Sonia pulled off her thong, squatted down, scooped three fingers of margarine out of the tub, and rubbed it around the rim of her asshole. Then Lady Sonia puLady Soniad what was left inside. Lady Sonia continued scooping margarine out and pushing as much of it as far up her asshole as Lady Sonia could. Once the fucking started, Lady Sonia might not get a chance to do this again so it was important that Lady Sonia get as much inside as possible now.

When Lady Sonia judged that Lady Sonia had forced in as much as would fit – when it seemed that as much was squeezing back out between her fingers as Lady Sonia was pushing in – Lady Sonia stood up and walked slowly out toward the bar. Her ass cheeks slid together and squelched with every step. As Lady Sonia was sliding past Thomas, Lady Sonia looked up at him and asked, “Why do you hate me so much? Was I that bad to you? Really?”

He grabbed her arm and looked down into her face. In that face, for the first time in years, he saw the girl that he had loved so many years ago; the young woman that he had married; the woman who had given birth to two fine children.

Lady Sonia looked back up at him and said, “You can have the first shot at my asshole, you know. Maybe I can make you hard again. At least let me try. You’re my husband. You deserve to pop my back door cherry and I know that you’re not going to want me afterwards. Not after all these men have taken me.”

He felt his heart break. “I’m sorry.” He spoke more loudly, shouted to the men who were standing in line, each clutching a twenty-dollar bill in his hand, waiting to defile his wife. “I’m sorry. The lady and I have reached a new agreement. Instead of blow jobs, I’ve convinced her to let us fuck her in the ass.”

The men cheered.

Lady Sonia sobbed.

Until Thomas added, “But that’s a considerably more expensive service. I’m paying five hundred dollars for her asshole.” He turned her around and raised her miniskirt to her waist. “Because I think this is a choice piece. So unless someone wants to bid more than five hundred dollars, I’m going to take her out to a motel and rotorooter her ass for the rest of the night.”

This was something that a group of horny men could understand and appreciate. The whore was not dissing them, Lady Sonia just had a better offer.

No one could afford to outbid him, so they cheered his good luck half heartedly and returned to their tables.

Thomas took his wife back to her motel room and did exactly what he had told the crowd that he was going to do.

The next morning, when Lady Sonia awoke, Lady Sonia’s asshole was sore, but not as sore as Lady Sonia had anticipated, given the enthusiastic assault that it had endured the night before. Not only had Lady Sonia been well-lubed, but Lady Sonia had stretched herself amply while pushing the butter inside. But the Lady Soniaets were a filthy, greasy mess, margarine had been leaking out of her all night long, along with no small amount of bodily fluids. Lady Sonia promised that Lady Sonia would leave a hundred dollars out of the five that Thomas had paid her as a special tip for the maid.

As soon as Lady Sonia began to stir, he awoke as well and looked over at her. Her hair was diLady Soniaveled, her makeup smeared over half her face, and her eyes were red and puffy. “You have never looked so beautiful,” he said.

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Lady Sonia knew that Lady Sonia looked dreadful, but Lady Sonia also knew that he believed what he was saying. A man waking up in a state of blissful sexual satiation has an entirely different standard of beauty than the photo editor at Vogue magazine.

“Are you my husband this morning?” Lady Sonia asked.

“I want nothing more than to be your husband,” Thomas replied. “I love you.” And, for the first time in many years, he meant that with all his heart.

“I love you, too.”

“Last night, you promised that if I let you suck my cock, you would do what I say,” Thomas said, carefully.

“That’s right.”

“You didn’t say that you would do what I said only once or that you would do what I said only last night. You promised that you would do what that I say without any stipulations or qualifications. What I say, period.”

“That’s right,” Lady Sonia replied, snuggling into his chest. “That was the promise I made and that’s the promise that I will keep for as long as we’re married.”

“All I ask is that you trust me. I promise that I will not let you down again as long as you trust me.”

Lady Sonia smiled happily. “We’re going to have a lot more adventures after Samantha moves away to university in the fall.”

He stroked her hair. “I think you’ll find our adventures a lot more fun when we’re both reading from the same page.”

Lady Sonia didn’t answer. Lady Sonia was too busy trying to stroke a little life back into her husband’s cock. Her pussy had a mind of its own, it hadn’t been filled in some time, and it was hungry for her husband. Hungrier than it had been in years.

This virile young stud has been selected to serve as a “sex slave” at one of my ladies only parties but before the arrangements can be made he has to be tested.. Full Videos HERE

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