A Fragile Wife: Billionaire Romance (10 page)

“Good. She’s listening to her husband for once.”

Lana clasped her hands around his arm and nearly nibbled on the bottom of his ear. “Maybe it’s you who should be listening to me.”

“Shh.” He patted her knee. “There’s a show starting. We should watch.”

His gentle voice was the only thing in the world that could placate her personality. Whether she was wound up in anger or lust, sometimes she needed to come down from her adrenaline-pumping high and remember her place in the world. Right now, that place was being a responsible and socially acceptable woman in a sex club.

That meant giving the stage her rapt attention as a man in a black silk shirt and trousers stepped up with a woman attached to a leash.

“This should be good,” Ken said, asking for a refill of his drink from a server passing by. “Care to wager about what they do?”

“Always, Kenny.” Lana bit her lip in anticipation. “Loser has to give the other a hand-job right here.”

“Done. What do you wager?”

“I say he fucks her within five minutes. They look eager.”

“Five minutes? That quick? You’re on. I give it at least five.” Ken held up his wrist and waited for the second hand to hit twelve. “Starting now.”

That didn’t give Lana much leeway. The Dom and his sub were barely set up when Ken started his countdown, but there was one thing on Lana’s side.

Both of them were young – not only the girl. Most female subs tended to gravitate toward older, experienced Doms. Certainly, the young man may have had plenty of experience in the kink scene so far.
I doubt it.
That meant Mr. College Dom would constantly be on the verge of losing it. That
it?
The very thing that made the more experienced Doms in the room attractive.

Discipline.

Men like Ken – hell, like any Dom over thirty in that room – knew how to hold back their need to take their delicate subs. Their discipline was one way to feel immense pleasure. So, all Lana had to count on was this young lad’s dick getting so hard he couldn’t help but reward even the brattiest sub with it.

Ken sensed this as well the moment the show started. He sighed deeply, resigned to probably losing. Although the watch was ticking.

“He’s good looking,” he said wistfully, hand stroking his wife’s knee. “Wouldn’t mind seeing you take him on.”

That was Ken’s casual way of suggesting Lana have her turn with a third wheel. A male one.
“We’ll see how I feel about that soon enough.” To say they used these more explicit shows as a way to shop for potential playmates was an understatement. Both Lana and Ken wanted to see how other people screwed – or, in Lana’s case, see the goods they were packing.

Sure enough, the guy’s dick was out in fewer than three minutes. Erect.
Looks painful.
Lana didn’t have a dick, but she could guess. Just like she could guess Ken crossing his legs had nothing to do with phantom pains. The man was 100% hiding his own erection.

“If this guy can hold on two more minutes, Kenny, I’ll take care of that thing for you.”

“I know you will, Bunny.”

He kissed her hand as the Dom spanked his sub, pulled down her bust, and fondled her modest breasts.
Wouldn’t mind getting a taste of that right now.
Whether from Ken or another man while her husband watched… that didn’t matter.

“How long do you think they’ve been together?” Lana asked. She couldn’t believe it being more than a few months. These two were too young to have a longstanding Dom/sub relationship. Not like her and Ken. “I would guess three months, tops.”

“Five weeks.”

“That’s specific.”

“Long enough for that guy to get acquainted with her body, but short enough for him to still need to learn. Took me six weeks before I was able to keep from prematurely ejaculating around you, Bunny.”

“Excuse me? I recall you doing that an all of two times.”

“You didn’t know about the others because I came before sex was even on the table.”

“Ugh, Ken.”

“Yes, Wife?”

She shook her head. “He better bang her soon. I want you to finger me.”

His hand went from her knee to her inner thigh beneath her skirt. “I could do that anyway.”

“The
bet,
though.”

The bet Lana was about to win, for the Dom’s sub followed a very specific order: don’t cry out through three spanks. She persevered, and the man decided to reward her with nothing short of his cock thrusting between her legs.

Ken, having lost their loose bet, slipped his hand between his wife’s thighs and stroked the length of her silk underwear.

“Oh, Kenny,” Lana mumbled, leaning back in the couch so her husband could nibble on her lips. “You always knew how to please a girl.”

His thumb pushed aside the thin material of her underwear and pressed into her wet folds. Lana began to slightly writhe, hand gripping his shoulder and legs opening in her skirt. “

“You’re just easy, Bunny.”

“Easy, huh?” Her breath stopped in her chest as the sub on stage shrieked in ecstasy, her Dom driving into her, hard, the audience sitting close enough to get a great view of the stage cheering their support. “You have to watch out using words like those. You might sully a woman’s reputation.”

“Oh, Lana…” One finger managed to push into her. “I made an honest woman out of you. Now you have to take it.”

As she gasped, Lana caught sight of a woman sitting by herself nearby, watching them.
What a pretty young woman.
Petite. Curvy. Wearing a cream-colored piece of lingerie with matching collar. The girl was not attached to anyone, let alone a Dom, but she was probably looking for one.

You want some of this, girl?
Lana opened her legs wider, exposing her husband’s finger sliding in and out of her.
You can’t have any. This man is all mine right now, and he’s going to worship my pussy. Feel free to watch, though.

Tingles shot through her toes as she watched this girl watch her. On stage, the solo sub could easily see some hardcore action, complete with wet skin slapping and eager little moans bouncing out of that girl’s mouth. Yet instead she chose to watch Lana Andrews, an almost-forty woman, spread her legs, show off her goods, and let a man fuck her with one – no, two now – fingers. Lana let a groan roll out of her chest as she pulled one of her nether lips aside with her fingers and fell deep into the trap of making exhibitionist love with her husband.

“Fuck me harder,” she hissed at him, pleased to feel him instantly thrust into her harder, more depraved with every passing second. More than one person watched them. That only fed into Lana’s need to have sex, and she didn’t care with
whom.

She had no idea when her exhibitionism took a hold of her. Lana always had a “bad” streak in her when it came to the more taboo sides of sex.
I was eighteen when I had sex in public for the first time.
And that really meant public! Her then-boyfriend couldn’t keep his hands off her at a house party. When he suggested he take her right there in the hallway, Lana hadn’t hesitated in saying yes. Next thing she knew, she was claimed in front of a whole fraternity – and all that mattered was the thrill it gave her.

People loved sex. They loved watching others have sex. They loved thinking about sex, having sex, anticipating sex. There was a reason voyeurism was so prevalent to certain degrees. Lana was a betting woman, and she was willing to bet that many of those same voyeurs harbored fantasies of exhibitionism as well. Yet what most people didn’t know was that you didn’t have to be hot to get some in public. All you had to be was ready and eager. The happy watchers came on their own.

That’s why God blessed the good green Earth with clubs like The Dark Hour. So kinky fetishists like Lana Andrews could get fingered by her husband in front of their corner of the room.

The fact that some people would rather watch her than the show on stage made her feel even hotter. She thrust her hips against her husband’s fingers, taking them into her and feeling everything become even tighter. Ken groaned in her ear. Lana hooked her hand around the top of his tie and pulled, bringing him closer so he could kiss her throat.

You all wish that this man were your husband. See how he works me?
The perk to having one of the tightest cunts around was that anyone watching would think Ken’s two modest fingers were the ticket to paradise. The way Lana clenched around them felt heavenly, as if her pussy had craved nothing more than these two specific fingers sent straight from the angels above.

Of course, it took more than a couple of digits to make her come so hard that her G-spot quivered in delight. It took a man who knew her body so intimately that he knew exactly how to stroke her, at what angle, and what to do with his mouth and words while he fucked his wife into another plane of existence. And, of course, any man who was going to give a woman a G-spot orgasm of her life did well to remember that it existed in the first place. And Ken never forgot. It helped that, for all of Lana’s biological hang-ups downstairs, she was blessed with an easy to reach G-spot.

“That’s it, baby,” Ken growled into her ear. His fingertips took her, over and over, filling her, reaching deep within her, and stroking the most intimate parts of her body that she had ever shared with anyone. “Come for me right here.”

Lana squeezed his tie and closed her eyes. She could feel the eyes of others on her, fueling her desire to perform for them. Bucking hips, rolling thighs, curling feet, and a mouth that wouldn’t close because she was too busy thinking about coming to think of how she looked.

Fuck!

Sometimes, orgasm turned a woman like Lana Andrews into a wild, uncaged creature who couldn’t be controlled by the best handler in the universe. This happened that night, when her husband drew a hard, unforgettable orgasm out of her. It zipped, no,
tore
through her, leaving no mercy in its wake as it tightened her abdomen and pussy both. “Ken!” she cried, nearly strangling him with his tie. “
Ken!
”

She felt more eyes on her. People who were summoned by her pealing voice and her plea for him to fuck her until she couldn’t take it anymore. The show was long over on stage – the Dom came hauled his sub off the stage, so people needed
someone
to watch.

And why not watch me, the biggest star in this room?
Lana reveled in that as she flung her head back on the couch and bucked her hips against her husband’s fingers, each one three knuckles deep.

“My beautiful wife,” Ken purred, Lana coming down from her ecstatic high. “Everyone else thinks you’re beautiful too.”

Damn, he always knew exactly what to say.

“Now give me these back, Bunny.” Ken shook his fingers inside her, showing her how tight it was around them. “I need them, and you’re about to snap them off.”

She laughed, exhausted. “You would deserve it. I want to keep them inside me forever.”

“My fingers, but not my cock?”

“There is a lot to say about a man’s fingers, Kenny.”

“They don’t come, though.”

Typical man, always thinking about the cum-shot. “Even so, I don’t think I would mind hanging on to these for a while.”

Nevertheless, Lana attempted to relax, releasing her hold on Ken’s hand and letting him have all five fingers back. He gave her a mild punishment by inserting the wettest finger into her mouth, letting her suck it until she could no longer taste herself on him.

Meanwhile, she left her legs spread open. Who knew? Maybe someone liked what they saw.

“Have I called you beautiful yet today?”

“Yes, baby.”

Ken wrapped an arm around her midsection, letting his wet fingers linger on her silky blouse. “I’ll keep calling you beautiful until you’re not anymore. But not only do I think that’s impossible, but I would lie anyway. You deserve to feel beautiful every day of your life, Lana.”

He sounded so sweet that Lana allowed herself to turn into a puddle of mush.

“You sweet talker.” She sounded drunk. She
felt
drunk. Between the sex and the audience, Lana was liable to pass out on the couch for the rest of the night. Now, if only she were allowed to actually
do
that… “I need to go wash up.” Lana found the strength within her to stand, pull down her skirt, and walk away from her dirty husband. He watched her head toward the women’s restroom with a look that said she was more than welcome to finish him off when she got back.
I might.
Lana would prefer some actual intercourse in a private room, but she wasn’t above giving her husband head before they headed home and had round two in their own room.

She found Elle standing in front of the bathroom mirror, sprucing up her makeup. “My favorite person,” she chirped. “You’re positively glowing. Let me guess. He went down on you during that show?”

“Close.” Lana joined her friend at the sink and washed her hands. “Pussy pounding from the brother of the finger wearing his wedding band. And the middle one, I suppose.”

“Good shit. Sorry I missed it.”