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I was drifting off to sleep when someone knocked at the door. I looked through the peephole and saw that it was the concierge and not the cops. I opened the door."Is the pro still here?"I nodded."Good! Mr. Atwell invited me up after my shift.""Atwell?""The best man. He's running the party, so I figured...""Come on in. She won't notice another one. Bedroom. Just watch that you don't slip and fall in!"We both chuckled at my feeble joke.He had what was obviously a quickie with Tiffany and left.An hour later, the only guys awake were the kid, the guy with the fat dick, and me. Tiffany had had a few more bourbons and was a little tipsy, but was still fucking and sucking.Someone knocked at the door, again. It was the two bartenders from the lounge. I opened the door, "Bedroom. Hope you don't mind it stretched and sloppy."A few minutes later, I got up and walked into the bedroom. The kid was asleep on the other bed and the bartenders, already finished their first round with our "superwhore," were sharing a bottle of Canadian and smoking cigarettes. They stood there, naked from the waist down, watching the guy with the fat cock fucking Tiffany's asshole. When he finished, Brian the bartender, rolled her over and shoved his newly-erect dick up her pussy. He took a fairly long time to cum and when he rolled off her, his partner moved right in, burying what was the longest dick at the party in one fast stroke. I went back out to the livingroom and had another drink.About a half-hour later, the two bartenders walked by me and out the door. I stood at the bedroom door and looked at the scene. The kid and fat-cock were snoring on the other bed. Tiffany was on her back on the bed, her eyes closed, and with her legs spread and her feet touching the floor. Her pretty white skin was blotchy red in places. She was covered with sweat and cum. I could see wads in her hair, on her face, her neck, between her tits. Her pussy was covered with it and it was seeping from between her pussylips and puddling on the sheet.What an appropriate end to the two weeks I had known Tiffany. Filled and covered with the cum of twelve men, and who knows how many orgasms, she looked exactly like what she said she was -- a whore. Not just any whore, either, but a slutty, degenerate whore, a gang-bang whore, a tramp whore. How could a woman go so low?I looked at her body. I was disgusted, repulsed. She had taken strangers in her hands, her mouth, her cunt and her ass. There wasn't anything a man couldn't do to her, if he had enough money in his pocket.As I stood there, I opened my slacks and dropped them and my underwear to my ankles. I was sickened and aroused. I was going to add my cum to all the cum already filling her cunt. I positioned my dick at her entrance and slowly pushed it in. She was so full of cum, I could feel it squeeze out of her cunt, ooze around my cock, until it wet my pubic hair. It was disgusting! It was incredible!I began humping her and she opened her eyes. "Mike? What are you doing? Couldn't wait for your freebie, baby?"I pulled my prick out and rolled her over. I slammed my slimy cock into her asshole. I wouldn't have minded if I had hurt her at that moment.I didn't last long. I had been watching her performing all night, and was on the edge when I entered her.I still had my cock buried up her ass when she turned and said, "Mmmm, you're hot, sweetie. You're the best of the long night!"I knew it was whore-talk and she had probably said the same thing twelve other times that night. I popped my dick out and grabbed her by the hair. I pulled her around on the bed and pushed her face against my crotch. "Clean me!"She looked up into my eyes, looking for something I wasn't willing to give her at that moment. "Ohh, Mike, it's really messy and I've had a long, long night."I pushed her face against my cock, again. "Clean me up, you disgusting whore!""Oh, I get it. My favorite John didn't like watching me earn my money, and now he's punishing me. Now you want to be a pig.""Yeah, that's right, I'm the pig. You just fucked twelve guys senseless! God, I hate you, you disgusting slut!" I cried. "And, I hate myself for even putting my dick into your sloppy cunt and ass!"She began licking and sucking me. She licked the messy fluids off my balls and thighs and out of my pubic hair. I thought I was clean, but she didn't stop. She sucked me until I was hard again and she kept on sucking me until I came in her mouth.She pulled herself up, each nipple burning a path up my body, and looked at me eye-to-eye.She spit my cum into my face!I raised my hand to slap the defiant smile off of her pretty face, but, instead, I grabbed her hair and pulled her tightly to me and we kissed a deep, long, angry, exhausted, furious, passionate kiss.The kiss eventually ended. When it did, we smiled a sad smile at each other. I saw her for the debased slut that she was, and still wanted her with every cell in my body -- and she knew that.Tiffany started to get off the bed and said, "I'm a whore, Mike, and you knew that. I've never lied to you. This is what I do and I'm good at it. But now it's late and I think I've earned my money. Let's blow this joint, Mike."I said, "you already have."She chuckled and punched me in the arm. "Then let's get out of here."I pulled my drawers up and followed Tiffany into the bathroom.Back in the livingroom, she pulled her top on and then tugged her skirt up. "I can't find my bra and panties anywhere."I shrugged. "Probably someone's trophies.""Yeah. Hey, before we go, let's pick up all the polaroids and get the film out of the cameras.""Are you worried about their wives and moms?""Hell, no, I'm worried I'll be plastered all over the internet by Monday!"Tiffany collected the polaroids in both rooms and I rewound and unloaded the two 35mm cameras. What I didn't notice until I did a final scan, was a camcorder on the stereo shelf. It had black tape over the red "recording" light and had one full reel in it and two more next to it. I took them, too.I helped Tiffany into her coat and we left the suite and walked to the elevators. She was wobbly and leaned against me until I opened the door to my room."You're really beat. I'm in that bed, Tiffany. Feel free to take this one.""Thanks, Mike, but I'm gonna have to soak, first."I showed Tiffany another wad of money. "Your tips. Not much. Fifty dollars a cock."Tiffany sat in the big tub as it was filling. "I don't remember anyone tipping."They didn't. I just decided it was a fair tip and collected it from the concierge and the two bartenders and then lifted it from the rest, while they slept. Believe me, after a full day of drinking and that party, none of them will remember what they had in their wallets.""You're so sweet, Mike."

SATURDAY, JUNE 29, 1996
Saturday Morning.I awoke the next morning with Tiffany, naked, cuddled tightly against me. It felt wonderful."You really have to go?" she asked in a half-awake voice."Yes. All the big bosses are here, today.It is the one day I can't miss.""And there isn't anything I can do to change your mind?" Her warm hand brushed down my chest and grasped my hardening cock."I didn't think you'd be in the mood, after last night.""I'll probably be a little sore, but I told you I wouldn't wear it out. C'mon, climb aboard!""I don't want to hurt you, Tiffany. And you need some rest. We can do it when I get back. Okay?"A light snore was the only sound she made.

She wasn't there when I got back.I couldn't understand it. When she left, she knew I'd be leaving soon. It would have been my last chance to see her before going home. I was disappointed.I swallowed hard and called Laura. There had been a change in my plans, anyway. Peter Hymes, a VP, scheduled a breakfast meeting for Sunday morning with the regional chiefs. We were in a centrally located town and everybody was flying in for the face-to-face. I was flattered when he asked me to attend, and there was no way I was saying no. I explained all of this to Laura and told her that my Sunday flight home had a two-hour lay-over in Chicago, and I wouldn't be home until nine o'clock in the evening. She told me not to worry, good luck at the meeting, and she'd meet me at the airport. How could I tell Laura that I didn't want to live with her anymore, that I wanted to live with a whore -- a whore who excited me and made me feel alive and happy and lusty? Instead, I said, "I'll see you at the airport, Honey."I was just about to go downstairs and begin my search for Tiffany when my phone rang. Hymes wanted me to join him for dinner and a drink. At my obsequious best, I gladly accepted his invitation.

After a nice dinner, Peter suggested a drink in the lounge before retiring. This was the first time in almost two weeks when I didn't want to see Tiffany in the lounge. Peter had met Laura at several company occasions, and I didn't want him to see that I was on speaking terms with a hooker.Of course, she was there, sitting at the bar. She saw us walk in but didn't acknowledge me. I'd have to thank her for that, later.Peter and I sat at a table and had a few drinks. Tiffany went off with one client, but reappeared shortly -- a hand-job or blow-job, obviously.Peter and I talked about a lot of things. He is very conservative and religious. Knowing Laura and I had adopted our two girls, he said he and his wife were considering the same thing, and he wanted to know about the process. Finally, we called it an early night. Peter said he had some figures to go over in his room for the morning meeting. I went up in the elevator with him.I was still tired from the night before, but planned to wait a few minutes and go back down to see Tiffany.I woke up at six a.m., still dressed in Saturday's clothes. SUNDAY, JUNE 30, 1996I had just enough time to get ready when Peter called from the lobby. We went to the meeting together and I flew home. All my thoughts were of Tiffany -- I missed her, already.

I had a lay-over in Chicago. When I finally arrived, Laura was standing at the luggage pick-up. I almost ran to her. We kissed passionately and I said, "I like the hair.""Yes, I do, too. I had stayed a blonde too long. I like the short length, too. It's fun to play around with.""How about the tatoos?""Gone. They were temporary. But I'm still bald."I smiled at my wife. "I liked that a lot. Let's keep it that way for a while."My luggage had arrived, and we were walking to the car. "How were your two weeks?" I asked.My beautiful wife smiled a shy smile. "Michael, I can't believe how incredible and outrageous they were! And, on top of all the fun I had, I lost seven pounds and made almost seven thousand dollars -- even after my payoffs! Of course, I have to stop smoking all over, again, and re-learn how to speak proper English! Michael, thank you so much for giving me that kind of freedom to live out my lifelong fantasy.""Well, it didn't hurt that it's my lifelong fantasy, too, you little whore."

EPILOGUE
Yes, I'm sure you already knew -- Laura is Tiffany -- Tiffany is Laura.This happened in June, 1996. Laura never expected her fantasy to last for two weeks. She thought that, on the first night there, she'd turn a trick while I watched the pick-up and then move into my room for the two weeks, but she didn't see me anywhere on Monday and Tuesday, and by Wednesday, she discovered she was having the time of her life -- that she liked being Tiffany -- a happily married hooker! Who could have predicted that?What she said about her youthful whoring was true and we had role-played the "hooker" scene more than a few times over the years. What spurred Laura on to actually live the scenario was the last time we played -- three men approached "Tiffany" before I did, and offered her a tremendous amount of money to go to their room. Tiffany reluctantly demurred, but Laura kept wondering what would have happened. Whenever we made love after that, she would describe what the three men would have done to her, until we both had explosive climaxes. Finally, I asked Laura if she really wanted to try it. She said that she was toying with the idea and might just be in the right mood, someday.I didn't know it at the time, but Laura had arranged for her mother to watch the kids for the two weeks and she waited at the airport and took a flight a few hours after mine. When she didn't see me in the bar by Wednesday night, she made up the "escort" story and knocked on my door. You know the rest from then.

Yes, there's a downside. Laura's pictures did eventually appear on the internet. We must have missed a camera. I kept doing searches on "Bachelor Party" and, sure enough, we eventually found the photos. The faces of the men were digitally blurred, but my wife's face (along with the rest of her body) was right out there, crystal clear and in living color. Laura immediately returned to being a blonde and is still letting her hair grow longer. We just hope none of her students (or their parents) stumble on to the site.On the upside, we now have so many stories to talk about when we make love.

DECEMBER 24, 1996
The familyroom was lit only by the dying fire in the hearth and we were making soft, slow love on Christmas Eve. I was on my back and Laura was lowering her slippery pussy down over my rigid cock. My hands reached up to her heavy tits and I brushed my fingertips across her nipples."Ooooo, nice! I saved a story for you, Dear. I wanted to give you a special Christmas gift.""You waited over six months to tell me? This must be a good story.""It is. I fucked your boss!""My boss?" I had visions of Laura disappearing at the recent Christmas party, but, other than trips to the ladies' room, I couldn't remember a time she wasn't in sight."Which one? When?""Peter Hymes. He was Tiffany's last trick. He returned to the lounge right after the two of you went upstairs. Made a bee-line right over to me. He said I reminded him of somebody he has the hots for! Do you think it's me -- Laura -- he has the hots for?""It must be. He's met you at enough functions, but you had long blonde hair, then. I wonder what he would have thought at the Christmas party if you still had the 'Tiffany' hairstyle and color?""Hmmm... an interesting question. He didn't make any indication that he made a connection."Laura was torturing me, leaning forward, lifting her pussy almost all the way off my prick, and then slowly dropping back down on it. "So, how was he? And you better make it quick!""He's very kinky, Dear -- almost scary. When we got back to his room, he told me he was a deacon at his church, and he preached to me about Satan and the work I was doing in the name of Satan. He said I had tempted him and resisting me was a test from God. He opened his zipper and pulled out a hard dick and said, 'On your knees, hellwhore! Kiss the flesh of a pure and Christian man!'"I was ready to blow. "I'm close, Laura!"She lifted herself off my dick and squeezed the head with her fingers. "Not yet, lover! Maybe you should lick some 'hellwhore' pussy while I finish my story."She continued, "He was mumbling some prayers, or something, as I sucked him off. He didn't last long. He then yelled at me for being such a temptress and wailed about the weakness of his flesh. 'We must continue the test. Strip, whore!' he said. When he saw my shaved pussy, he went crazy -- kissing it, licking it, rubbing it with his hands and penis. I guess mine was the first one he ever saw. Oh, your tongue feels sooo good!""And you taste so good. Finish the story!""Well, he made me lie down on the bed and he got a black bag out of his luggage. He put a pentagram on a chain around my neck, and then painted a big black one on my belly and chest. He lit two thick candles -- one red, one black. Then he pulled out a bible and a cross. The real praying started then. He held the candles over me and dropped the melting wax on my nipples and pussy. He had done that before, because he knew how to do it without the wax being too hot when it landed.""Christ, he should be put away!""It gets better. He told me to beg for the lord's mercy. I played along. He ordered me to get on my hands and knees. Then he slowly inserted the black candle into my pussy, and the red one into my ass. It was quite a sight in the mirror!""You had to be scared by now.""I really wasn't. He hadn't hurt me. I would play along until he did.""And then?" I asked."And then I either leave or renegotiate my price!""Whore!""For sure! Next, he blew out the candles and removed the candle from my ass. He moved over behind me and pushed his dick up my ass as he fucked my pussy with the candle. I surprised myself by feeling a tremendous climax coming on. The whole freaky scene had me hot!"He found the rhythm I liked as I came, stroking me perfectly. It was a great cum. He continued to fuck my asshole until, finally, he said, 'I now give you an injection of the lord's mercy into your defiled whore's body!'"It's hard to believe, but I came all over again."Laura rearranged herself over my cock, again. As she lowered herself, I asked if she left after that."No, we fucked and sucked for the next two hours. He was almost insatiable. He paid extra for some water-sports and 'baptized' me in the tub. He anointed me by spraying his cum all over my face. I tasted the devil by licking his asshole. And, finally, he finally 'redeemed' me by fucking me, with a big white candle shoved up my ass as he plowed away in my pussy. What a night!"I was ready to cum and Laura knew it. "C'mon, baby! Cum in your personal whore's body! Fill me up with your cum, just like so many other men have -- men who waited in line to take their turn and paid me to fuck them and suck them and do all the degrading, disgusting things real whores do. I'm your Christmas Whore! Fuck me!"Afterwards, we were cuddled on the floor, wrapped in a blanket. "I can't believe Peter didn't know who you were. He's no dummy and you are a beautiful woman.""Thank you, Dear, but it was six months ago and I was a whore in a hotel in a city far away -- it was out of context and he was looking to get his kinky rocks off.""Still..." I mused."Well, Michael, you may be right. At the Christmas party, he invited me to join his prayer group on a weekend retreat!' Do you think he meant..?""What did you tell him?""With you up for a partnership, I told him I'd be glad to attend the next one. He said he'd call me with the time and place.""This could get complicated."

Laura attended the prayer-group meetings. The first two were legitimate. Since then, the "group" has met six times, and included only Peter and Laura, at his mountain cabin for a weekend. His kinkiness is unbridled with Laura. He loves to dress her up and act out his "temptation/redemption" scenes. He always has new props -- crosses, candles, dildoes, plugs, etc. And, Laura says the closet in the cabin is full of her outfits -- among them, a tart, a choir singer, a young girl, a pilgrim, a medieval virgin, a nun, a witch, and even Satan, herself! She always comes home and tells me the kinky goings-on as we make crazy love.I've gotten the partnership, and, listening to what the other partners said, apparently without any help (or hinderance, for that matter) from Peter, so my wife doesn't do it for that reason. She does it because she gets off on it. She loves the feelings of perversity, depravity, and naughtiness these trips bring her. It floats her boat. And I love hearing about it.

Recently, one night in bed, Laura was asleep beside me and I was reading a mystery. About sixty pages into the book, one of the characters says, "What, you don't think prostitutes get married? Whores get married. They make good wives."I smiled and looked at my sleeping wife. I'm sure what the character said was true, but I'd have to add: and, sometimes, wives make good whores.