Wife’s Night Out

Kimi gazed at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She had just stepped out of the shower a few minutes before, and had blow-dried her long, black hair. She was tiny and slim, barely five feet tall, on tiptoe. Her features were strongly Japanese, favoring her father rather than her Caucasian mother, with high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. Her eyes took in her smallish, 34b breasts and her tiny brown nipples that were constantly betraying her by showing through her clothing. She weighed 95 pounds, and her tummy was still as flat as when she was in high school. She had carefully shaved the hair between her legs, feeling it was somehow appropriate for this evening. The thin gold chain around her waist and her gold clit ring added a suggestion of exoticism. She turned to the side, checking out her cute butt, which she considered by far her best feature. “I can do this,” she whispered to herself, building her courage for what she had decided to do. She walked to her dresser and slid on some bikini panties, a pair of tight, low-rider jeans and a tee-shirt. She wore no bra.

Walking into the living room, she saw with distaste that her husband Eric had fallen asleep in the recliner. It was his Monday night ritual — the football game he had been watching was still on.

Kimi and Eric had been married for two years. He was nice to her, made a good income, and he was handsome and intelligent. But there was something missing, something that created a growing hollow within Kimi. He had become….boring. Especially sexually. When she had met him in college five years earlier, they had nearly fucked themselves to death, both willing to do almost anything to fulfill each other’s fantasies. But somehow, the spark had gone out, despite her best efforts to arouse him. She couldn’t believe that he had become so insensitive to what he knew she possessed: a powerful and almost insatiable need for sex.

Finally, Kimi had come to a decision. If Eric would not meet her needs, she would meet them some other way. Tonight was to be the beginning of her sexual odyssey.

“Eric…” she said, nudging him awake.

His eyes opened and he looked up at her groggily. “Wha….?”

“Eric, I have to go to the college library to do some research in the periodical files. For my paper. I’ll be there pretty late, so don’t wait up.” A part-time graduate student, Kimi was doing research on education theory.

“Okay, darling. Be careful,” said her husband, his head falling back again.

Kimi smiled inwardly at the irony of his comment. Careful was the one thing she could not and would not be tonight.

Kimi walked to the elevator of their high-rise condominium complex, and rode down to the parking garage. Getting into her Acura sedan, she reached into the back seat and retrieved a gym bag she had left there earlier in the day. Looking around to make sure no one saw her, she stripped off her top, then unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off, untangling her feet. Quickly, she began putting on the clothes from the gym bag: A tight, black, spandex miniskirt that barely covered her pert ass, a short, sequined, low-cut, spaghetti-strap top that bared her tummy. Clear, high-heeled platform sandals completed the outfit, which Kimi had been referring to in her mind as her “fuck-me suit”. She quickly applied eye liner and lip gloss, using the vanity mirror on the visor.

Satisfied that she looked sufficiently slutty, Kimi started the car and drove through the city streets to the Tenderloin, finding a fortuitous parking space on O’Farrell Street and sliding the car into it. She paused for a few minutes, gathering her courage. Part of her couldn’t believe that she was capable of taking this kind of insane risk. And yet, the thought of what she planned excited her, and caused her to feel a familiar warm wetness between her legs. Because what Kimi had in mind was to become a hooker, a streetwalker, a whore. It was just for this one night, she told herself…or at least, she had refused to let herself think beyond tonight.

Finally, she took a deep breath, and got out of the car. Walking slowly toward Larkin Street, she turned the corner and walked past the New Century Theater, where the marquee and displays in the windows screamed to her of naked girls, private shows, and XXX-rated movies. She was almost tempted to go in, to see what it was like, but she felt she should stick with her plan for the evening. Perhaps another time, she thought.

A block up the street, she began to see prostitutes…or rather, she thought to herself, OTHER prostitutes. They mostly just glanced at her with disdain, as if they saw right through her disguise, but perhaps she imagined it. She watched them for awhile from a recessed doorway. Cars would pull up and a girl would walk to the driver’s window and talk to the occupant. Often, the driver would pull away and keep looking, or the hooker would decide that something didn’t look right. Or maybe they couldn’t agree on the price. But other times, the girl would walk around to the other door and slide into the car.

Kimi watched the girls plying their trade, and decided she could successfully compete with them.