The Trophy Wife

Whitney was already set up when Chanel came flying through the door, flushed and apologizing like she ran a red light. Her husband apparently couldn't get his ass in gear to drop her off. Didn't sound like he cared much. She tried to laugh it off, but the frustration leaked out with every word while she kicked off her heels and stripped right there. Whitney got her onto the table without missing a beat. Chanel kept talking about her man running the show, making all the decisions, and how she felt like another trophy in his cabinet. The tension sat heavy in her shoulders. Whitney pressed her hands lower, working those tight spots, asking just the right question: Was she actually happy with him? Chanel sighed. Said she had everything money could buy, but none of it was hers. Especially not in the bedroom. Their sex was mechanical at best. She couldn't even remember her last orgasm, and toys weren't allowed. Whitney hummed low and kept rubbing, listening, making Chanel's complaints come out faster once she realized someone was actually paying attention. It all tumbled out. Chanel missed being younger and reckless, when she was more wild. Kissing two guys in one night. Fantasizing about fucking another woman. Never went through with it though. Scared herself. Whitney told her flat out that she'd been with plenty of women, and she sure as hell knew what to do with one. Chanel hesitated, eyes wide, trying to picture what that even felt like. Whitney pushed a little. Told her nobody needed a husband's permission to get off. She could go buy herself a vibrator, or she could climb on top of another woman and find out exactly how good it could be. That hit a nerve. Chanel's whole face changed. "I'm doing this," she said. Vibrator first, then whatever the hell else she wanted. Whitney smiled, offered to shop with her, hands sliding lower. When she leaned in close and asked if Chanel wanted a taste of what two women could do together right now, Chanel didn't pull away. The kiss caught her off guard in the best way. Slow at first, then hungry. Whitney's fingers cupped and squeezed her tits, rolling the nipples until Chanel gasped into her mouth. Then her tongue trailed lower, spreading Chanel open, licking her deep and wet while Chanel shook and swore under her breath. She grabbed Whitney's hair and pulled her in harder. Finally letting go. Finally letting herself want something just because it felt good. And Whitney wasn't planning on stopping at one taste.