The next morning started at about 4 in the morning as Karen puked her guts out in the bathroom. She was so hungover that by the time she was able to drag herself back to bed all she said was, “Did I fuck Neal?”

I said yes.

“Did you get the job?”

“Yes.”

And then she slept for twelve hours.

I knew she felt guilty about what she did but I tried to tell her I felt bad that maybe I should have put a stop to it but I couldn’t. How vile it was to watch her cum on this douchebag’s prick. She agreed that she absolutely despised him and then every single time we would end up fucking and not talking about it for the rest of the night. She was fucking me out of guilt and I couldn’t help myself getting turned on everytime we talked about it, so I made sure to bring it up constantly.

I had no idea that I would be so turned on by my wife fucking another man, specifically one we both disliked so much. Her shame from enjoying it was also working for Karen despite our better natures. She would often climax while admitting how much she came.

The contracts that Neal got us, made the money I needed for overdue bills, but as I predicted, his forced timeline caused my staff to threaten to quit. Specifically Lester, one of our two mechanics. He was older than me and always thought he knew better about everything. He’d been working since when it was my dad’s shop. He’s known me since I was eleven or twelve so he’s always treated me like a kid. He was a bit of a drunk loser in my opinion but he was good with cars. Our other mechanic was a young hispanic guy, family man, from Mexico named Diego. Without proper citizenship, I wasn’t concerned about him quitting just yet but even though he was polite, I could tell he wasn’t happy with me. He was always very nice to Karen, who told me on more than one occasion that he was cute and they were friendly at the shop.

Even though we were catching up financially, I still needed more work and I was still going to be behind in staff payroll.

I kept explaining to Karen how things were going so she could see I was doing everything I could, working extra hard and then I would come home late. It became a ritual. I would come home and she would ask how the day was. I would explain how much I tried but we didn’t have any walk ins, or any mistake I might have made on an order, which would lead to talk of our bills and finances and then eventually, seemingly reluctantly it would get around to Neal and we would end up fucking.

I think it was about two months of that before I started seriously asking if she would be willing to invite Neal over again to get “an extension”. Karen was shockingly indifferent. I thought maybe she would be angry but she wasn’t really. It was more like she knew it was coming and just was waiting for me to ask. There was certainly a slight perceptable coldness after that but instead of feining outrage she just made it my choice and said she would go along with whatever I wanted in the name of being a good supportive wife. She was prepared to get trashed again and then humiliated by this asshole we both dislike as our new kink, but it didnt exactly turn out that way.

We picked this blue dress that had a plunging neckline so there was an innappropriate amount of cleavage and it was high up on her thighs enough that she wouldn’t dare wear it out in public, but since Neal was coming straight to our house it seemed perfect. It was a cheeky amount of innappropriate without having to say anything. The material was thin and without a bra her nipples were obvious as they poked through the dress blatently. We decided no bra was the way to go.

Karen had two shots to calm her nerves a get a little buzz going. She was nervous and wanted to loosen up. Last time we didn’t know what we were doing but this time we were not just expecting a kinky sex romp but actually inviting it. Just reaching between her legs I could feel that she’d soaked right through her panties already. We were both so excited. It was hard not to fuck while we were waiting for him to arrive but once her make up was done, Karen would only allow me to play with her pussy a little or with myself.

When he finally rang the bell and she greeted him at the door, he didn’t say a word about her dress. He was on his phone, so instead he handed her his coat and talked past her to me, giving me a brief hello before finishing his call. When we finally got into the living room he hung up and then there was an awkward moment where we didn’t know what to say, until Karen offered to get everybody drinks.

“Tits out.” He said it so evenly and calmly it didn’t register. Those were his first words to her.

Karen blinked, not understanding. He couldn’t have said what she thought she heard. He hadn’t even said hello to her yet or even looked her in the eye! “What did you say?” She asked incredulously.

“This is a negotiation, remember sweetie? And you are the bargaining chip, so lets skip the theatrics and get on with it. Tits. Out.” Now he was looking at her, through her. Scanning her body, appraising her physical attractiveness.

Karen was just shocked by his bluntness, but then obediantly removed her top. This is what the evening was about after all.

Her nipples visibly hardened as we watched and Karen blushed, she wasn’t drunk enough to be so shameless this time.

We all waited in silence for Neal to say something. His eyes stayed on her tits. “Nice, now get us those drinks.”

Karen turned and pulled at her dress to cover up, but Neal wasn’t having any of that. “It’s only two words, so it shouldn’t be that complicated, honey. Tits. Out.”

Karen left her top down and let his words sink in, accepted them somehow and then went to get the drinks. Neal smiled at me and said, “Thanks for the invite, buddy!”

When she returned promptly, still topless, Karen’s breasts swaying with each step. Not one to miss a beat, Neal said, “Jiggle, jiggle, jiggle…”

My normally proud wife, tried her best to ignore his taunts. I wondered if despite her natural instincts, being so verbally degraded was part of the kink for her. Certainly she’d never been so thoroughly humiliated before in her life.

He sat, sprawled on our couch like he owned the place. As she bent over to put the tray of shots on the coffee table, we all enjoyed how her tits hung free. She had been a good sport and now wanted to take one of those shots, but Neal stopped her.

“No more for you tonight sweetie. You’ve had enough.” He took her shot and threw it back. “These are not for you.”

“What are you talking about? I can have a drink if I want one.” He knew how to push her buttons and get her indignant.

“No.