Married Whore Fetish

At 9:00 a. m. as she dressed in an outfit from her valise so that she didn't have to go into work with the same clothes on two days in a row, she almost seemed fresh, and although she walked bowlegged didn't have bags under her eyes like I did. I think that she knew how much it cemented my joy when she had her panties, skirt and shoes on but not her blouse or bra when she got in my face and said "You owe me $750, John" (as in a whore's customer rather than my real name of Reggie).

I smiled, went into my briefcase and counted out fourteen one hundred dollar bills. "This is more than I charged you," she said with an impish grin as she re-counted the fourteen Ben Franklins.

"The other $650 is a tip," I grinned.

"Is it because I'm your best whore ever?" she replied still with her impish grin.

"Hell yeah," I chuckled.

"Kiss my girls goodbye," she said holding her tits and moving them to my mouth. I did; she put on her bra and blouse and then gave me a long kiss and said "Nice doing business with you and your 98th percentile cock, Reggie."

Just before she exited Room 1812, with her purse and valise, I called after her "Can we do business again?"

"Maybe," was her grinning reply, after which she made sure to wiggle her ass as she exited the room.

I called to the front desk for late checkout, slept until noon, and then got a first class ticket on the next plane out. The entire time on the flight all that I could think about was Eleanor. Not only was the sex with her beyond great physically but I really liked spending time with her.

*********

My brain finally stopped being preoccupied with Eleanor after about ten days back at work. Then I got a call from the Bill Elliott, the president of XYZ. He had some prototypes of what he wanted one of my companies to give a quote for and my engineers told me that it was important for us to see the actual objects rather than the drawings which we had been given so far. "Just ship them to me," I told Bill.

"My people say that we can't take the chance of them getting lost. It would be catastrophic; we have to messenger them," he replied.

My little pea brain suddenly lit up. "OK, tell you what Bill; since this is going to be to my company's benefit if you ultimately accept our quote if you have Eleanor Morton bring the prototypes to us we'll pay her airfare and accommodations for one or two nights while we evaluate them, and then when we're done she can bring them back."

"We were going to have one of the engineers bring them," he replied.

"Why waste an engineer's time. When I visited you last she was very competent helping me out with a number of things, and her time isn't as valuable as an engineer's, and we wouldn't let your engineer into our facility anyway since we want a totally independent evaluation," I replied.

After a pause Bill said "OK; as long as her immediate supervisor has no real objection, and as long as she is willing, I will make it happen. I'll call you back in a half hour or less."

I immediately called Eleanor's cellphone for the first time since I saw her, although many times I was tempted just to relive some of my many orgasms just by hearing her voice. Fortunately she immediately picked up. "Eleanor Morton, how can I help you," was the way she answered the phone.

"Hi, Eleanor; Reggie here; Bill Elliott may soon ask you if you could deliver some prototypes to my company. You would have to stay over one or two nights. If you can do it I can guarantee that it will be highly economically rewarding for you."

"Will I get to see your 98th percentile cock again?" she whispered.

I immediately got hard. "That is what will make it economically rewarding," I whispered back.

"He's coming to my desk now. After I talk with him we can negotiate a price," she retorted and then terminated the call.

A half hour later I got a call on my cellphone from a number with no caller ID; I thought that it might be Eleanor so I answered. As soon as I said "Hello" she responded with "You better make this worth my while; how much for your favorite whore?"

"$2000 a night, and you can go to museums, go get a pedicure, or do anything else you want to during the day," I replied.

"See you tomorrow -- and by the way I'm flying first class," Eleanor responded.

"I wouldn't expect anything else from a first class whore," I chuckled.

The two nights with Eleanor weren't quite as physically taxing as my first night with her -- but were just as enjoyable if not more so. For the second night that she was there I bought her a fancy (and revealing dress) and sent her to a spa to be pampered during the day and then took her to a play where many of my clients and competitors were likely to be since it was opening night at our community theater. I got the desired respect from everyone there. A comment from one of my competitors summed it up. "I didn't realize that you had game, Reggie; how in the hell did you get her to go with you?"

"Charm, Wilson -- charm," I snickered.

As Eleanor was getting ready to leave after our second night together at my mansion in my home town, after making sure that she got paid, she said "You know, I could really use a vacation in the next couple of months. When don't you take me to a Caribbean Island for four or five nights? I'd only charge you 2/3rd price."

"You really are a pushy bitch," I chortled in reply.

"No -- just realistic since I'm your favorite whore," she chortled back and then kissed me long and hard before picking up the case with the prototypes and her suitcase and walking out the door to the limousine waiting to take her to the airport.

**********

It had been about a year since I first met Eleanor. By then she was almost a rich woman since over the last year I'd paid her more than $100,000 for her sexual services and I doubt that she paid taxes on it. However, the last time we had a session together she threw me a curve ball.

"Reggie, I will not accept any money from you tonight. I think that your fucking fetish is just because you never had a woman who satisfied you before. So, if you want to fuck me tonight it will be without me wearing my rings, and without you paying me any money. Do you want me to come to your hotel room or not?" Eleanor said in a private conference room at XYZ with her hands on her hips.

Perusing her body -- as I always did -- my cock gave me my answer; it tented my pants. "OK, 6:00 p. m., Room 1812 at the Waldorf," I grimaced.

"Bring some little blue pills," she snickered before planting a kiss on my lips.

When Eleanor got through with me at nine o'clock the next morning I was even more wiped out than after our first night together. Then she hit me with another one of her zingers.

"Now that you know that it's me that you covet, and not some fucking fetish coveting married woman who you pay for sex, you have a choice. Ask me to divorce my husband and move in with you for a one year trial basis, monetary details to be worked out; or you don't ever fuck me again." With that she gave me a scorching kiss goodbye and sashayed toward the door to my room. As she opened the door she turned to me and said "I'm as serious as a heart attack; I'd appreciate a call one way or the other."

************

I'm no longer a rich guy with an obvious married (to someone else) whore fetish; now I'm a married guy. Eleanor costs me just as much now as when she was a whore for me, but there are no cash payments, just charges on her credit card for spa treatments, tennis lessons, country club memberships, etc. Having her supple body next to mine every night (she insists on travelling with me -- "I don't want you tempted by another Mrs. Eleanor Morton" -- is her unsubtle reason for doing so) is worth it. My fetish is probably still lurking deep in my Id, but the now Mrs. Eleanor Portofino is likely to keep it only there in the foreseeable future.

I wonder if this is what the Harvard shrink I went to had in mind when he said "You can overcome your fetish if presented with a better alternative." Maybe I shouldn't have been so hard on him.