So the five of us are watching TV when the doorbell rings. As is typical, Andy jumps up to answer it. After a moment or two, he calls my name, and I g...t up to see Eileen at the door! I thank Andy, and he retires to the living room. I ask Eileen what she’s doing here, and she says that it is part of her plan to get fucked by me. I laugh, then I go outside, pick her up and carry her over the threshold and up the stairs to my bedroom. We’re standing in the middle of my room, kissing passionately. When she started to gag, she pulled back, but then composed herself and tried to get me deeper. Her throat was trying to push me out, but she held where she was, staring at me.Her eyes were watering, messing up her mascara. She started bobbing back and forth, never removing eye comtact. Mascara dripped down her face as she took me down her throat.I grabbed her hair but she bobbed at her own pace, pulling me in far enough that she would begin to gag and then just out enough to recover.Saliva. Once again my thoughts evaporated when I felt his finger enteringdeeper and reaching my prostate gland.I whined and I felt my own hanging dick swell between my legs. He made anapproving sound and started moving his wide finger back and forth, and Igroaned at the feeling of his knuckles pushing my rectum and thefingertip reaching my sensible spot every other thrust.After a couple minutes of this finger-fucking, he pulled out and sniffedhis finger, disappointingly commenting "Hmmm... you are not. I wear tank tops and shorts at home and wear kurtis while going out.My hubby is not that good in bed. He only liked few positions and would get discharged quite early.Being his wife, I never made him feel bad about this. As I was a prostitute, I know how to fake orgasms and make satisfactory faces to clients. I used the same tricks on hubby. But deep down, I had lost interest in sex.Having sex with my hubby always brought back the feeling of being a prostitute. Though I am not paid, I am always.