The Coffeehouse Quintet — Book 2: Lessons Infidelity
Day 3
Thursday morning, Ben quickly silenced his alarm and got up before he disturbed his sleeping wife. Her bleached cum crusted hair framed her overly made up face. With all the fucking they’d done last night, neither of them had had time to take a shower.
Ben was still amazed that after five years of marriage that the two of them were still so passionate about each other. His buddies said marrying the bar tender at their favorite hole was a mistake and they’d be divorced within the year. Sure, she was a bit of a gold digger, but they loved each other and the sex was phenomenal; it helped that she was ten years his junior and had an overly active libido.
When he went back into the bedroom after his shower, Ellen was sitting up in bed smoking. Her knees were pulled up into her chest with the sheets draped over them. She ashed her cigarette and waved at Ben.
“Morning, sexy.”
“Morning, stud.”
Opening a dresser drawer, Ben pulled out some underwear and socks. “How’d your job search go yesterday?”
“So, so. No one’s really looking for an ex bar-tending high school grad.”
“Sorry to hear that. I asked around but none of my firm’s clients are looking either.”
Ellen stubbed her cigarette out and climbed out of bed. “It figures. I’ll find something.”
Fully dressed, Ben headed out to the kitchen and Ellen, still covered in sex, followed him. After grabbing a bagel and pouring a glass of orange juice, Ben handed his wife the bottle of juice and she filled a glass half full. Then, she topped it off with vodka.
While Ben munched on his breakfast, Ellen slowly drank hers. “You know,” she said, “I was wanting some new shoes today. Would you mind if I went down to the mall and did some shopping?”
Ben brushed his hands off in the sink, then pulled out his wallet. He only had a couple hundred in cash, so he pulled out his platinum American Express card and handed it to her. “Try to keep it under a thousand.”
“A thousand? I can’t get anything for that.” Ellen pouted and rubbed her breast against his arm.
“Okay, fine. But no more than two.”
She gave him her best puppy dog eyes.
“OK! Five. No more than $5,000.”
Ellen beamed. “Thanks sweetie.” She kissed his cheek and adjusted his tie. “Go get ‘em, tiger!”
“Thanks. Oh, and if you have time, would you mind cleaning up around the house a bit?” he asked, then gave her a peck on her cheek and headed out to work. With his back turned, he missed the glare she gave him in response.
After his dismal performance at work the day before, Ben was determined to put in good billing hours, especially since he knew Ellen was probably going to blow seven grand shopping today. Since marrying Ellen, he hadn’t put as much effort into his work and the backlog was getting to him. By the time lunch rolled around, his hands and eyes were almost useless from exhaustion.
As he drove off in his luxury car, he headed in the opposite direction of his normal haunt. He needed more stimuli than the coffeehouse would provide. Ten minutes later, Ben pulled into the closest strip joint to his office and parked his car in back, out of sight.
The place had just opened and aside from Ben, only a few alcoholics littered the place. They all hung out in the shadows, avoiding eye contact. Ben ordered a sandwich from the bar girl and sat back in his dark booth. The girl who was on was just finishing her routine and it was obvious why she had been given the day shift.
No one had thrown any money on the stage for her so she the only thing she had to gather up was her clothes. The DJ asked everyone to give it up for Taylor, but no one clapped. The next girl who came out looked like she would be just as miserable. She was wearing a pullover for the local university and had a deer in headlight look about her. There was no hint of sexuality about her: her body had no shape, no form, and she bumbled about the stage. She did have an innocent feel, something that seemed familiar to Ben. Despite the lack luster performance he knew he was about to witness, he was interested.
When the girl ripped her pullover off to reveal a giant pair of implants in a shelf bra, Ben’s dick sprang to life. Her whole performance changed. She oozed sexuality. Every step she took looked like she was slowly stalking her lover. She swung and dry humped the pole like she was actually having sex with it.
Leaving his sandwich, Ben went down to the stage and started tossing bills at her. The only things the stripper had left on were her g-string panties and her platform heels. She gracefully strutted over to dance in front of him and he tossed some more ones on the stage for her. The girl scissored her legs opened and close in front of him and he could see her moist lips poking out around the thin string of her underwear. She was getting sexual excitement out of dancing.
Ben pulled a $100 out of his wallet and she went spread eagle in front of him. He slid the bill into her panties on top of her cunt and as he did so, stuck a couple of fingers into her slit. He pulled them out and the stripper leaned forward and wrapped her collagen enhanced lips around his fingers and licked her juices off of them.
Her song ended and Ben went back to his sandwich. He’d never consider cheating on Ellen, but if there were any girl that he would, that stripper would be her. Ben checked his watch to see if he could figure out if he’d have time to catch another one of her shows. It didn’t look good.
Just then, someone sat down next to him.
“Hey, stranger,” she said.
Little Ben rose to attention. “Hi,” he stumbled.
“Thanks for the great tip.”
“My pleasure. A show that hot deserves its rewards.”
The stripper reached over and massaged his erection through his pants. “If you think that’s hot, how about a private show?”
Ben gulped. “A private show?”
“Yeah, we’ve got some rooms in the back. How’s $300 sound?”
Did Ben really want to do that? Could he cheat on his love and actually pay for it? He looked at the stripper in her scant clothing. She was still rubbing his leg. He had to have her. “Let’s go.”
Smiling, the girl got up and Ben followed her through the club, past a big bouncer, and down a dark hallway. She sat him in a chair placed in the middle of an otherwise empty room.
“Got the cash?”
Ben pulled out three bills and gave them to the girl.
She looked up at the video camera in the corner and walked around so that she was standing under it. “For an extra $100, you can do anything to me.”
There was no hesitation as Ben pulled his last hundred out of his wallet and gave it to her. The red light on the camera went off, and so did Ben. There was no strip show. There was no lap dance or foreplay. There was just Ben’s seven inches buried into her.
He was mesmerized by the dirtiness of it, cheating on his wife with a strange girl, fucking her on the floor of a strip club for $400, the way her artificial body and piercings shook with his thrusts. Men who believed in monogamy were fools. Fucking around was heaven.
As the girl cleaned his shaft off from his cum and her juices, Ben looked at his watch. It was already 1:30. He needed to get back to the office and put in some more hours. He got dressed and thanked the cum covered stripper for the good time.
Unlike that morning, Ben didn’t have the motivation to do any real work all afternoon. He had a desire, a hunger, to fuck his wife with his dirty philandering cock. He checked the clock every five minutes, hoping that it would tell him it was five o’clock. Like the day before, by the time it was 4:30, Ben was already heading out the door.
He pulled into his driveway then entered his messy house. Dishes were piled high in the sink and the laundry overflowed from the bathroom. As Ben made his way through the various items scattered on the floor to the living room, he could hear the sound of fucking. His heart dropped. Was Ellen having an affair?
Ben was both relieved and excited by what greeted him. Ellen was spread out nude on the couch, working a large dildo in and out of her pussy. A home video they had made together was playing on the TV. Ben’s cock was working in and out of his young wife’s snatch while one of her expensively manicured nails worked her clit, much like she was doing now with the dildo.
She hadn’t noticed him come in, so he dropped his pants, threw off his shirt, and walked over with his stiff member leading the way. When she finally caught sight of him, she jumped then cooed. She let the dildo fall out of her slit and took her man in her mouth. Ben wondered if she could taste his betrayal. He hoped she could.
“Get on the couch,” he told her.
She laid back and played with herself while he positioned himself over her. Ben pressed the head of his dick against her lower lips and slid himself up and forward, so that his head rubbed up the length of her, over her enlarged clit and onto her stomach. With his balls pressed against her pussy, his dick extended well past her belly button.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“I’ve been read since I woke up.”
Ben put himself inside of her and started pumping. He wasn’t thinking of his wife, he was thinking of his afternoon tryst. He imagined Ellen with that girl’s giant tits. As if his imagination was effecting reality, Ellen’s breasts started inflating. They looked like someone had roughly stuffed softballs under her flesh. The sight made Ben lose control and he pulled out and came on her new tits.
Ellen opened her eyes and squirmed under him. “You can’t be fucking serious. I need more than that.”
“Your tits, they just grew!”
Reaching up and massaging one of her jugs, Ellen said. “I’ve had these things since right after I dropped out of high school. I had them when we met at the strip club four years ago and they’re the same ones from when we got married three years ago.”
The memories of meeting Ellen while she waited tables at the strip joint he regularly visited came floating up to him. He’d fallen in love with her fake D cup tits, sex with her, and then her personality in that order. She’d fallen in love with his steady stream of cash. His friends said he shouldn’t marry a gold digger twelve years his younger, but he was happy he ignored them.
The Ellen on the TV moaned as one of her exes pounded into her with his massive cock. Ben started getting hard again. He grew out to just below her belly button. “Do you ever miss fucking dicks that big?”
Grabbing her husband back and aiming his shaft at her still hungry hole, Ellen shook her head. “No, you’re enough. I just need you to fucking last longer.”
She was referring to Ben’s recent lack of stamina. As if to put an exclamation point on it, she rocked back and forth a couple of times and he exploded into her. Ellen sighed and dismounted him. Cum was drooling down her leg.
“I’m sorry, sweetie.”
She picked up her smokes and lit one up. She exhaled and said, “Fucking whatever. Wanna see some of the new outfits I got?”
“Sure.” He watched her ass waggle out of the room. Just above it in the tramp stamp spot was her calligraphic tattoo that read “Sex!”
While he waited for her, he watched the amateur porn that she’d made with all of her boyfriends until Ben and she had met. The Ellen on the screen was raving about which ever boyfriend it was filling her with his giant cock.
Several minutes later, Ellen came back in a leopard print dress. The top tied behind her neck, leaving her arms and most of her torso bear. Two thin straps of cloth hung loosely down the middle of her tits, leaving plenty of flesh available for ogling. The fabric covered about an inch on each side of her nipples, and too much movement (like dancing) would cause the fabric to shift and expose them. The artificial curve of her cleavage was plainly visible, even the round curve of the outside of her tits was left available for viewing.
The bottom half of the dress stopped just below the curve of her ass. She spun around to show Ben the back, or rather the lack there of. In the back, the bottom part of the dress didn’t start until just below her tattoo. In all, the dress hid enough to be tantalizing, but exposed way to much to be close to decent wear.
She accessorized with a diamond necklace that sparkled in the light, making sure attention was properly focused on her chest. Her feet were encased in ankle high cream boots. They had to have been at least one inch platforms with six inch spikes. The lift accentuated the muscle definition in her thin, bare legs.
“Damn! You look hot.”
Some how, she managed to do a twirl on those heels. “Don’t I, though? Go get dressed. I wanna go clubbing!”
Ben walked past his young wife and squeezed her ass. He ran to the bed room and squeezed into a designer shirt and slacks, his expanding gut rested on top of his belt. He styled his thinning hair then went and joined Ellen. “Let’s go,” he said and leaned in to kiss her.
Ellen ducked him. “Don’t you’ll smear my makeup.”
Even though it was a Thursday night, there was a line outside the door of the club they went to. Ellen confidently strutted up to the bouncer. He opened the rope for her and put up his hand to stop Ben. Ben put a folded up $100 in the man’s breast pocket and patted it. “I’m with her.” The bouncer waved him through.
The couple walked over to the bar and the bar tender came running over when he saw Ellen. Ben held up two fingers and said, “Two martinis and a beer.” He soon came back with them. Ellen drank the martinis like she was doing shots, and Ben ordered her a third before the keep could wander away.
“After I finish my next drink,” Ellen yelled over the pounding music, “let’s go dance!”
Ellen finished her third drink and Ben downed the remainder of his beer. He let his wife lead him out to the dance floor and they started to move. Half way through their second song, a large muscular black man shoved Ben out of the way. “I’m cutting in,” he told Ben.
What Ellen and her new dance partner started doing couldn’t be called dancing. The strange man’s hands roved her body groping her everywhere, while she melted in his touch and dry humped him. Ben just stood and watched.
After the song ended, the black man took Ellen’s hand and lead her off to the stairs leading up to the VIP room. Ben followed behind them. Once they got to the stairwell, the stranger put his hand on Ellen’s ass and pushed her up.
They walked past the bouncer at the door and let it shut past them. The bouncer stepped in front of Ben and put his hand up. Ben pulled a folded $100 out of his pocket and said, “I’m with them.”
The bouncer didn’t move. “No, you’re not.”
Ben added another $100. “Yes, I am.”
The large man gave the money in Ben’s hand a disdainful look. “You can keep adding all night, but you’re not going to get in there.”
Two well built white guys came up the stairs behind Ben and the bouncer shoved him to the side to make way for them. He opened the door and let them pass through. While it was open, Ben could see into the luxurious VIP room. It was mostly empty except for a couple of men and his wife.
Her top had been undone and she was deep in a passionate kiss with the man she’d been dancing with. He was roughly fondling one of her tits while she stroked the outline of his large cock. Then, the door closed shut.
“That’s my wife!” Ben cried.
“I don’t fucking care if it’s your mom, sister, and Jesus. Get the fuck out of here.” The bouncer spun Ben around and pushed him towards the stairs.
Defeated, Ben slowly lumbered down them. His wife was cheating on him. She was going to fuck that black guy and possibly several others. The image of them filling her with their cocks projected across his mind. A mix of emotions ran though him. What hurt most was Ben was helpless to stop it. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he went and did the only thing he could do. He went to the men’s room and masturbated.
For several hours, Ben sat at the bar alone, drinking beer. He could see the stairs to the VIP room from where he sat. All night various men went up and down the stairs, some times alone, other times leading scantily clad women up. He hadn’t seen Ellen come down once. The bar tender came over to tell Ben it was last call when she finally did reappear.
Ellen came down the stairs on wobbly legs. She had a drug and alcohol induced glazed look on her face. Her bleached hair was tangled and matted together. Her makeup was smeared across her face. When Ben got to her, he could smell the sex and dried cum on her through the smoke. He put her arm on his shoulder and helped her down.
“My fucking pussy is so sore! But damn was that fun.”
Ben didn’t respond, he just took her to the exit. Before they reached the door, the black man that had taken her to the VIP room caught up with them and grabbed Ellen.
“El-sluto! Here’s that shit for the road.” He handed her a bag of white powder, then grinned at Ben and mauled one of her tits before going in for a kiss.
Ellen giggled when the man returned her to Ben. “Get it?” she asked in her stupor. “My name’s Ellen and I’m a slut, so they all like called me El-sluto like I’m a Mexican.”
Again, Ben said nothing. He didn’t correct the bad Spanish, he didn’t comment on her being called a slut, he just got them to their car and plopped Ellen in the passenger seat. He got in the driver side and started the car.
“Thanks for being so fucking cool,” she slurred. She leaned over and fumbled with his zipper and pulled out his stiff dick. As inebriated as she was, her blow job was sloppy and uncoordinated. It still didn’t take long before Ben shot his load into her mouth. Ellen passed out with her head in his lap, drooling his semen back out on to his cock and into his pants.