“Tennile,” I said quietly. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
There was no answer, so I lost my temper and practically yelled. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
I watched as a fat tear slid down one of Tennile's cheeks. “I was thinking... I didn't want you to know that I... that I...”
“No,” I said. “No, that only makes a little bit of sense.”
Tennile looked at me in surprise.
“Oh come off it, Tennile, you know I'm not going to divorce you over this,” I said, exasperated both because it was true and because she seemed to actually not understand that it was true. Or she was pretending to not understand that she had me so wrapped around her little finger that I could find out she had been an escort and never told me, and I didn't much even care.
I mean... I did, and I didn't.
“What else is it?” I said, wildly. Then my voice went cold and I narrowed my eyes. “Is it Shane?”
Tennile shook her head. “No. No, I swear, I just didn't want you to find out.”
“You expect me to believe that? That you'd do something illegal, risk getting yourself disbarred, all just because of this tape?!”
“No, no. It's... of course I realized I was getting in to some deep shit. I said I couldn't do it. Exactly for that reason. Even though he was going to cut me in, too. You know? But of course I tried to get out of it. And then... then he drops that bombshell again. 'Sure, don't help me,' he says. 'And I'll just send this tape to your husband.' And I say, yeah, okay, but at this point, I can't be involved in this. And so then he points out the obvious.”
Tennile let out a shaky sigh.
“This tape has me accepting money, it's prostitution clear as day, and the statute of limitations has run out for charging me, but... if he releases it, then... well.... obviously I'd never work for anyone ever again.”
She shook her head. “So I watch the tape,” she said slowly. “And he's right. It really...”
She started crying again.
“So it's... make all this money, do something I can probably get myself out of if he gets caught, or he posts this tape and I never work again for sure, and you also find out I betrayed you. It was bad choices all around. So I... I don't know. I don't know why I chose this one. I should have known it would all fall apart.”
I was too stunned to say anything. What the fuck can you say to a story like that?
Another long silence came down over us. I had too many things to deal with.
“So where does this stand now?” I said gruffly.
Tennile covered her face again. “I don't know. I don't know! It's... he wants me to help lure this latest guy in, and the guy is skittish, he wants a lot of things in writing. He wants to go to the site, he wants a contract for splitting up the treasure, Shane wants me to go with them to the site, charm him, make him feel... you know, comfortable.”
“What?!”
Tennile shrugged. “I know. That's where I drew the line. But now it's... it's this, and maybe say goodbye to my career, or it's him posting the tape, and definitely saying goodbye to my career, and my... life.” She closed her eyes and tears welled from both eyelids again. “I don't know what to do.”
My head was reeling. “So what does that mean, Tennile? What does it mean, that you can maybe get yourself out of it?”
Tennile sighed. “I don't even care about any of this,” she said. “I mean, I do. Obviously. But I only got myself into this shit because I just wanted to keep our marriage together.” She looked at me, teary-eyed. “Please tell me that I at least have that. That you can at least find a way to forgive me for not telling you about what I did... back then.”
I stared at her. My heart throbbed in the dark silence. “Tennile, you know I can forgive you for that. You knew that all along.”
My heart jumped. “Unless there's something else. Like you aren't coming clean about everything. But is this it? Just this... escort thing... and it all happened before we were married?”
“I swear that's all.” She put her hand to her mouth. “I swear it.”
“No Shane.”
She shook her head.
“Then why on earth didn't you just tell me?”
Tennile stared at her wine glass. “Maybe you should watch the video,” she said quietly.
When I didn't answer, because part of me was dancing wildly inside my own skin with excitement, because I really did want to see that video more than anything else, Tennile looked up at me sharply. “I think you'll understand if you see it.”
8: THE “TAPE”
Tennile retrieved the memory stick with “the video” on it and handed it to me in the living room, where I had arbitrarily decided to watch it.
I set the computer down on the coffee table. Tennile sat down in the chair across the room from me, her hands folded in her lap. She stared at her fingers and her cheeks were already turning red, before I even turned on the video player.
The first sound was loud, it was Tennile's laughter. I recognized it only because of her special, deep-throated warble – the laugh itself sounded incredibly fake.
“No,” she was saying. “I've never been.”
On the screen was a hotel room, a pretty nice one, modern style, and it appeared to be a suite high up, overlooking the city.
“Where's this?” I said quietly.
“The Hilton.”
The irony.
It took me a moment to recognize Tennile herself. She was wearing a schoolgirl outfit: red plaid mini-skirt, white blouse tied at the navel. Her breasts were plumped up by whatever she wearing beneath it, and she had some killer white stockings on that came up to just above her knee. And heels – slutty, high-heeled black shoes that made her legs look almost distorted in their wild length.
My cock throbbed.
“Put the headphones on,” Tennile said quietly. “I don't... I just don't want to hear it.”
I looked over the edge of the open computer at Tennile, who had pressed her thumb to her lips and was looking at the floor, stone-faced.
Back to the screen. I plugged in my headphones and put them into my ears as Tennile The Whore strutted around, laughing, giggling, a drink in her hand.
Her giggle filled my ears as I put the earbuds in. She was stretching out as she climbed onto the lap of her... client... a burly, foreign-looking man who was making no bones about his eyes plunging right into her chest.
Tennile played with his tie, and then climbed on top of his lap and started to do a lap-dance of sorts – the view from the camera was of her bottom peeking out from her skirt, her slender legs from the top of the stockings all the way up to the little strip of red plaid that was shaking and gyrating on the wide lap of the big man. I could see the outline of his erection very clearly.
His hands were on the chair, and his fingers dug into the armrests with his obvious desire to slide them up along Tennile's thighs and under that little skirt. Watching another man, seeing his palms itch to feel my wife's skin, turned me practically inside out.
Tennile danced on his lap for a bit, and though I could only see from behind, her hands were in front of her, untying the short blouse and slowly peeling it away. The man's pleasure was obvious as she tantalized him with the slow removal of her tight blouse.
The cotton material slid off her shoulders, and I sucked in my breath when I saw that her back was bare – and therefore, so were her breasts. Tennile's pretty brown nipples were within inches of this man's lips as she swooped forward and jiggled them close to his face.
This went for some time: Tennile's long torso swaying from side to side as she moved her hips and bounced her breasts for the titillation of her client.
And then he could take no more: his hands unclenched from the armrest and he slid them up to her narrow waist. Placed upon Tennile's tan skin, the burly man's large paws looked gnarly and enormous; he could practically encircle her entire torso with his two hands.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” a voice said. “No t
ouching.”
The intrusion of the other male voice was jarring, but then I realized that of course Tennile, as a stripper, would have a bodyguard with her.
That's when, on this video, my wife, who had her hands in her luxurious hair, turned back in the direction of the camera. She was poised on her knees, hovering over the man's lap, and when she turned I could see the curve of her pert left breast, her nipple hardened.
Her face was almost unrecognizable. Of course it was her face – I recognized the features, the upturned nose, the sharp curve of her lips, the long eyelashes fluttering around her eyes. It was definitely my wife, and I indulged in a moment of thinking about how good she looked now, if this video was from ten years ago.
But her expression is what made her nearly unrecognizable. The wide smile, her tongue running along her upper lip, the slutty way she was grinning and pushing her hair around like a porn star.
When I had envisioned this scene, I suppose I had envisioned her being a little more... reluctant. Seeing her so into it was a shock. My cock pulsed with the mixture of delight and horror I felt.
She ran her tongue over her upper lip and made a pouty face. “But he could touch, couldn't he? You can pay extra for that.” She turned back to her excited man, and I saw her arm move as she trailed her fingers down his chest.
I stared as her hand kept going, making a light pass over his cock.
The man said something, and it was slightly unintelligible.
Then Tennile's voice: “You want the full treatment?”
Again, more unintelligible mumbling.
“It's $500 for a blowjob, $1,000 for pussy, and $2000 for anal.”
These words came from Tennile's mouth. I recognized her voice, but my brain almost imploded from trying to reconcile what I was hearing and seeing with what I thought I knew about my wife. I stared as her hands expertly sought out the crown of the man's dick through his trousers and stroked it, with the motions of a jellyfish, while she very stoically discussed the prices of her services.
Blowjob, pussy, anal.
And it was the enthusiasm with which she was saying it.
I looked over the edge of the computer screen again. Tennile was pressing the backs of her fingers to her mouth.
Back to the scene on the “tape.”
Tennile turned again and made a gesture with her head, which I realized was a signal to whoever had escorted her to the private “dance” to leave.
It was then that I realized that Tennile did not seem to be aware of the video.
“You didn't know this was being filmed?” I said, looking at her over the screen.
Tennile shook her head. “I still don't know how they did it. It must have been in a purse or something. I don't know.”
But onscreen, the action was heating up. Tennile was leaning close to the man, and I knew, even though I couldn't see it, that he had taken her hard little nipples into his mouth. His hands held her firmly in place so he could suck on them to his heart's content.
My cock throbbed.
Tennile pulled away, and stood up in front of him. “Let's get the money out of the way,” she said, in a sing-song voice.
I could see the man's face now. He was hungry for my wife, who I needed to remind myself I probably hadn't even met yet at the time this video was taken. His eyes were devouring her. She was playing with her hair and placed one hand on her hip, striking a sassy pose.
“Always get the money first,” he said, his voice lascivious and greedy.
“That's what they say,” Tennile said, and she treated him to a little rotation of her hips.
I watched as the man fished a wad of cash out of his back pocket and counted out a huge sum of money. “How far will that get me?” he said.
Tennile's voice: “Looks like you can afford everything you want.”
I looked down at my pants at that moment, and saw that a stain of precum was creeping into the material. I looked at Tennile – the real Tennile, and she was looking at me now. Her expression was changing a little.
I quickly looked back at the screen. I was out of breath as I watched the scene and felt her eyes, in real life, boring though me. Watching me, watching her.
I stared as Tennile of the video got down on her knees and walked on them toward the man in the chair. The man rose as she moved toward him. Tennile reached up with her hands, her fingers seeking his belt.
“Do it with your mouth,” the man said. He had the wad of hundred dollar bills in his right hand, fanned out above Tennile's head, and he held it there as she dropped her hands to her own knees and leaned forward. Her head moved in little jerks as she used her teeth to pull on the strap of his belt, and, it appeared, the zipper of his pants.
He dropped his left hand to assist in taking his cock, which I saw briefly – a fat, stubby cock – and hold it for her mouth. Meanwhile, his own mouth turned serious, sexual, and dominating as he watched my wife's lips pass over the head of his dick.
I stared as his gnarly hand slid into her black tresses, as he cradled her head like a football. And then he began to push her and pull her as she bobbed forward and back, sucking his cock. “That's it, that's it baby.” He was still holding the money above her head, enjoying his view of her humiliating act with his payment for it in his hand.
Tennile moved her hands from her knees to the spikes of her hooker-like high heels.
'That's it,” the man said again.
My cock ached so much now I thought it would burst. It was pressing painfully against my own zipper.
“Now look at me. Look at me while you suck my cock,” he said.
Tennile must have obeyed, because he said nothing more. Her head bobbed back and forth until the man tipped his head back, his eyes closing, and started to stiffen all over as he neared his climax. He gripped her head and pushed her face into his pelvis when he came, letting out a loud groan and dumping his cum into my wife's throat. She was still holding onto her heels.
I heard a sticky slurp when he finally released her and his cock flopped from her mouth. He tossed the money on the chair and with his now-empty hand reached down to Tennile's mouth and touched her – I couldn't see what he was doing but it looked like he was playing with her lips. “Did you like that?” he said. “You like that tasty cum, don't you, you little slut?”
“Jesus, Tennile,” I whispered aloud.
I briefly looked up at Tennile, who was looking at me over the computer screen. Her eyes were getting wet with tears again. “I know. I'm sorry,” she said. “You can just... turn it off...it's basically like that.”
But my eyes were already back on the screen, and I knew Tennile (in real life) was still saying something, but I couldn't tear my eyes from the scene as she stood up and walked toward the camera. Her skirt filled the screen, and then all was dark. I heard the rustling of something, like she was fishing through a handbag.
Then she was walking back toward the man whose cock she had just sucked, seductively. His body was shifting as he stepped out of his suit. Tennile had something in her hand.
She did a little striptease – though at this point, it wasn't much of a tease – as her slid her little skirt off. Beneath it, a slender thong cut between her very firm buttocks, which looked even better because she was still wearing her stockings and heels. She turned, still doing a little dance, and bent over as she slipped the thong down her hips.
The man had opened his button-down shirt to reveal his hairy, wide chest and flabby torso. His eyes were on my wife's ass as she bent over, and I could see on his face what I confirmed when I looked at his cock: he was not done with her yet. Tennile stood up and turned around again.
There was the unmistakable sound of a cap popping from a bottle, and the squirt of lube. I couldn't see Tennile's hands, only her naked backside, as she stroked the length of his cock and applied the lube she had squeezed out.
Next she climbed onto the bed, and I was sorry to see that everything but her bottom and her legs was cut from the view. S
he was evidently poised with her chest down on the bed, her ass in the air. I saw her fingers come around to between her buttocks. Then, unmistakably, my wife, who I had never seen do anything like this, plunged a finger into her own ass.
I stared as she finger-fucked herself and the fat man turned his wide body to face her. His cock was erect again, pointed straight in front of him, glistening visibly with the lube she had applied to it (and also, I noted with some relief, a condom).
He watched her for a moment, and then he reached out and nudged her legs apart to get her aligned with his dick.
And then, as I stared in frozen disbelief, he slowly pushed his cock into her ass.
The screen froze.
I stared at it, unable to process what I was seeing – his dick halfway embedded in her ass – frozen on the screen.
Tennile had come around to sit next to me.
I looked at her, forcing myself to tear my eyes away from the screen.
Her eyes were wide with her own disbelief. “Are you getting off on this?” she said.
My mouth fell open a little.
Tennile's eyes dropped to my cock, and her hand was quick to reach for it and feel for herself that I was getting off on it. The wet spot between my legs was not doing me any favor if I had wanted to hide this fact from her.
Her mouth fell open a little, and I felt a wrenching feeling in my chest as I waited for her response. I think maybe I had stopped breathing.
Her fingers moved over my cock.
“I just...” I said. “I can't believe you...”
Tennile looked at the screen.
It's important to note here that while Tennile was hardly a prude, I had never ever seen her do anything like the things she was doing in that video. She sucked my cock, but she did it in bed and crouched over my cock while I propped my head up on the pillows to watch her. Not on her knees, and she let me splatter my cum all over her pretty tits, but she had never gulped my cum down like she had in this video.
And she definitely had never plunged her fingers into her ass or done anything with me that required lube.
“Are you shocked?” she said. Her fingers were still playing with my cock over my jeans.
Nila's Long Con: A Hotwife Adventure Page 10