My wife has gone to work at her office, a little sore and bruised and still tainted by all the balck man's cum that invaded her vagina over the weekend.I am sitting at my desk, wearing a blue silk dress, satin undies, balck stockings, high heels, perfume and make up, my shoulderlength permed blonde hair fluffed out the pages of a local paper open at the personal services section and a gay male escort's ad ringed in biro. I need relief. My body is still shaking with excitement and shame after what happened last Saturday night. As I explained in the first part of this story, my wife is a senior manager but works part time as an escort in a large town near our village. Last week the agency asked if she would service a violent black criminal who was recently released from a life sentence. When she came home from work late on Frday, I thought she must have been with him already. Then I saw she had lots of bags from clothes shops and guessed she had been shopping for more nice things, probably for him to see her wearing. My stomach turned, feeling jealous but excited. I asked if she was seeing him soon. She said tomorrow. how I wished I could watch her with him. She had only been with the agency a few months, ever since I lost my job and we couldn't keep up our life style in such a big house. When she suggested doing escort work, she said sex was not an essential part of the job and I never asked her about what she did, but she had been so nervous about the black guy, I had asked her. When she explained what she had been asked to do, my penis grew to its full four inches and I wanted to ask if i could go with her to make sure it was safe. She said that was impossible, but she would ask if I could be her driver. The agency agreed, though they warned her that there would be trouble if I interfered with such a dangerous client. The black man was paying for a service and he would expect to get it. My wife, who's name is Elizabeth, spent a long time getting ready on Saturday afternoon. I stayed in the bedroom with her. Although she seemed shy and nervous about what was to come, I could tell that she also craved the excitement. I watched her dress her slender body in white satin basque, black stockings, white satin slip with lashings of lace, matching suspenders and tight white lace trimmed panties. Her mound pressed so hard against her panty front that I could see her slit. I knew exactly how the sex starved 6' 4" ex con would feel when he saw those panties bulging and then the shaven pink skin beneath. Her 5 inch high heels had the effect of pushing her hips and breasts forward, making her body look even more inviting. In her full length slip, I could still see the clear lines of her suspenders and bands of black lace stocking tops. Her perfume as always was Chanel No 5, he make up immaculate,blue eye shaddow, mascara, eyeliner, making her look wide eyed and vulnerable. On top of it all she wore a black satin evening dress and fur stole. Her nails were painted bright red, matching her lipstick. Her best costume jewelery and freshly permed brown curls, completed the picture of spoilt white hosuewife, as ordered by the 50 year old muscle bound black gangster. My clothes were just a grey suit, tie and polished shoes, as befitted my position as driver of this high class whore, my wife. That evening, she climbed into the back of our Jag, modestly keeping her knees together and showing her very fine, slim and stocking covered legs, that would soon be so roughly parted. We had to drive right across town to get to the a large council estate where the black man was staying in a tower block. We'd been told it was near the lcoal shopping centre and pub and easy to find. Elizabeth and I were shocked, the place oozed violence and depravity, but there was no turning back. I hoped that after escorting Elizabeth to the flat, I would be allowed to stay in a room nearby- of course I really wanted to watch.