Do The Dots Connect?

Red flags are supposed to catch your attention. Sometimes they don't. Seemingly innocent or innocuous things come and go, and you don't realize that they are actually dots that will later be connected.

These were the thoughts that ran through my head that night as I gazed wide-eyed at my computer screen.

My beautiful wife of three years (we were each other's first loves) was attending a seminar on how to increase your Internet presence. She had lost her job as a substitute teacher when the pandemic ended in-person school in our district. She is a smart and energetic woman, so rather than be discouraged, she started doing on-line selling.

Calling her business Ginger's Online Boutique, she would scour the net for bargains on women's clothes, household items, and anything else that tickled her fancy, buy them, then market them on her site with a bit of a mark-up and some clever descriptions. Hardly a day passed without the FedEx truck stopping in front of our apartment building to drop off or pickup up packages. Over time Ginger developed a pretty good customer base, and her business continued to grow. Since bargains have to be cheap to be bargains, her mark-up on each item was small - but the profits added up with volume. Every once in a while she would turn up an on-line steal where she could really jack up the price. Designer purses were sometimes gold mines.

Ginger and I had met in college, dated for two years, then married soon after graduation. She is pretty, vivacious, and sweet. I fell head over heels for her, and she seemed to have taken to me as well. I was a business major, and after graduation entered a management training program at one of the big anonymous corporations whose name in big letters on the front of a glass-and-steel office building tells you nothing about what goes on inside.

We were doing well. I was performing and advancing at work, and although her district was not hiring full-time teachers, she became a popular substitute and got called in three or four days out of a typical week.

Her work at school dried up when the pandemic hit, but mine didn't. We set up a home office in the second bedroom of our apartment, and I worked remotely with a company-provided laptop, and a phone. Because I spent many hours each day on the phone, Ginger set up a desk in our bedroom. She bought herself a very capable computer with enough capacity, speed, memory and features to support her business plan. It was kind of odd for us both to be working in the same apartment and sometimes barely seeing each other all day. Maybe we'd both run out to the kitchen for a coffee refill or a snack, but then we'd be back at it in our respective "work stations." Those accidental encounters usually ended with a hug and a kiss. Ginger is a very physical woman. She likes to touch and to be touched. Hugs and kisses make her happy. I'm not as touchy as she is, but I enjoy her attention just the same. She likes sex too. We're on the same page with that.

It got so we were pretty casual about how we dressed for work. I usually had to wear a dress shirt, or at least presentable polo for Zoom calls, but it was usually shorts or sweats below the waist. One day I walked past the bedroom when Ginger was working and noticed she was sitting at the computer in just a bra and panties. I gave a little teasing wolf whistle, and she spun around. She explained that she was wearing them to see how to best describe them on her website - she hoped to make a deal and become an on-line distributor for a line of lingerie.

She looked pretty damn good, so I moved up behind her and gave her a hug from behind. As I kissed her neck I copped a feel. She squirmed a bit, but tried to stay focused on her work. I let her go, and wore a big smile as I grabbed my coffee in the kitchen and got back to the important tasks awaiting me back at my computer. Well, somebody thought they were important.

It went on like that - we'd have breakfast together, work separately all day, then reconnect for dinner. Because she controlled her own hours, Ginger was able to make the time to explore recipes and do some very creative and delicious cooking. We moved aside some furniture in the living room and put in a treadmill and an exercise bike, and quite often we'd spend evenings watching TV while running and riding in place. With the regular exercise we stayed trim despite confinement, and working with some dumbbells Ginger was working on shaping her figure. Which I didn't think she really needed to do, because her shape was pretty damn pleasing to begin with.

We had sex. We had a lot of sex. We both enjoyed sex, and we were young and in love. Sometimes between Zoom meetings I would go into her office/bedroom and try to seduce her away from her computer. Sometimes it worked.

Eventually I got called back to work in person in the office, but when in-person instruction resumed at school, Ginger had found that she was doing enough business on her computer that she could retire from teaching, so she let the school know they didn't need to call her anymore.

Ginger's birthday was coming up, and she asked me for a video camera as her big gift. She had picked one out from an online seller, and told me that it would help her to build her business. She had a deal in the works that would require this upgrade.

Well, we were pretty pleased with the income she had been bringing into the household, so it made perfect sense to me to upgrade her technical capabilities to enhance her business. I bought her the camera, and on her birthday she ripped off the giftwrap and opened the box with great enthusiasm. "Oh Paul, this is perfect, thank you!" she gushed as she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a warm, wet kiss. "With this I can really up my online game," she assured me.

A couple of weeks later I came home to find a large shipping box sitting open in the middle of the living room. Ginger very mysteriously asked me to sit down in my easy chair, and handed me a tumbler of Scotch. "That big deal I told about has finally come through," she told me. "This is why I needed the camera. My friend Ashley from high school has launched a new company selling sexy lingerie. She designs everything herself. It's the highest quality, and she has signed me up as one of her primary sales outlets."

"That's great, Sweetheart," I said with a big smile. "I'm so proud of you and the way you have built a business from scratch in these difficult times. I always knew you were smart and pretty, but I didn't realize that I was marrying an entrepreneur."

With that she leaned over to give me a hug and a kiss, then turned on her heels and headed for the bedroom. "Let me model some things for you." said over her shoulder as she turned the corner to the hall. She spent the next 40 minutes modeling one very sexy outfit after another. Some were one-piece but cut sexily, some were transparent, some were two piece showing a lot of skin, some of the bikini bottoms were even crotchless. All were calculated to get the juices flowing, and she had me hard as a rock in no time.

When she finally walked out wearing regular shorts and a tee, she came and sat on my lap. "So, what do you think? Think those items will sell?" she said as she bent in an nuzzled my earlobe. A hand slipped down between us to feel my hard cock. "Oh yes, I think you approve," she said. Then she got serious.

"One problem with on-line selling of clothes is that it's hard for the customer to visualize what the item will look like when it is worn. Photos of models and mannequins can help, but they are static and don't have life. This is why I needed the video camera. Ashley wants me to do live modeling on the website, just like I did for you. We think this will be the difference-maker that will really boost the business."

I was a bit taken aback at the idea of my wife modeling sexy lingerie, intended to be worn for a lover behind closed doors, online for the world to see.

"Are you sure you want to be displaying your assets so publicly?" I asked her, trying to be diplomatic, and not wishing to stifle her enthusiasm.

"Yes, Paul, this is something I want to do. It will mean a very significant boost in my income, it will help me to promote the brand of my website for all the other products, and it will help me to fulfill a secret dream of mine to someday be a model. Remember, this website is targeted to women, so it will be about creating a dream for a woman to satisfy her man, rather than about helping a horny old goat to get off."

"Well, it is your business, and you don't need my permission to do it," I said. "It almost seems as though you've been seeking permission though."

"No, Sweetheart, not permission. I've already signed the contract. I'm doing this. But I am hoping to have your support for this venture. We're in this life together, and I want us to be together in all things."

"Okay," I said. "Permission not needed and not sought, but granted. If you look half as good on your website modeling that stuff as you looked to me tonight, you'll be sold out in no time. What's for dinner?"

She hadn't had time to cook anything, so we ordered in. While we waited for the food, I helped her rearrange some things in the bedroom to create a "studio" space for modeling. The bed took up so much of the room that it was impossible to create a sight line that did not have at least a corner of the bedspread in view, but by the time we were finished she had a very workable "runway" space for doing her sexy turns.

As she had predicted, in the weeks to follow the business took off. Fresh boxes of new styles arrived about once a week, and Ginger spent her days modeling and managing lingerie sales online, while continuing to keep up with her other traditional website sales ventures. One day a large shipping box arrived with a custom backdrop screen Ginger had designed for her bedroom "studio." It featured Ashley's logo along with "Ginger'sOnlineBoutique.com" and was a neutral soft blue background color for the modeling. With a little more re-arranging we made it fit and it looked good

Meanwhile I was progressing in my company, enjoying my work, and also enjoying with Ginger some of the things that her booming business made possible. For one thing, some nights I would walk in after work and find that her day of sexy modeling had turned her on so much that she would jump my bones as soon as I set down my briefcase. Mondays and Thursdays seemed to be days that got her wound up. She told me that was when she received her sales reports from Ashley. We'd have wild rollicking sex, then eat dinner. For Christmas she treated me to a trip to Cabo, and we spent a week in the sun. Life was very good. We were in love, any problems we encountered seemed to be easily manageable, and between us we were bringing in some pretty serious money for a couple of 26-year-olds.

And so here I was, a year into her venture, looking at my computer screen. I visited her website from time to time to admire her creativity, her salesmanship, and her sexy body as she showed off her product line. On this night, since she was out at that seminar, I visited the website and watched her for a while, and I found myself getting a little worked up down below. So I exited Ginger's site, and looked up a porn site I like. Of course when you go to those sites you are hit first with advertising for paid porn sites and webcams and sex enhancement products - the whole panoply of sex-related material.

I was about to click past the ads when my eye fell on one of the thumbnail ads for a webcam sex site. Smiling seductively at me in a very revealing negligee was my dear wife Ginger. Shaken, I clicked on the ad, and was directed to a payment page. I put in a credit card number and was immediately welcomed into "Ginger's Bedroom." There I found a variety of videos of Ginger interacting with customers through her keyboard. She talked sexily to them as they predictably asked her to show her tits, or wave her butt, you get the idea. She was wearing a wig, because in the video her hair is blonde and hangs down past her shoulders, kissing the top of her breasts. The Ginger I know has light brown hair cut much shorter.

By looking at the array of saved videos I could sort of track the progress of her porn star career by recognizing the lingerie - from the stuff she received months ago to the more recent styles. Starting from what looked like No. 1, I clicked through them all. It was pretty clear at the beginning that she was very shy and nervous about what she was doing. She would basically do the same things she was doing on her sales site, but with a little sexier attitude and some touching and stroking of her body.

After a few like that, though, it seemed that she felt the need to warm things up. The requests coming in were more provocative. When she was asked to show her tits, she would very shyly pull the top down, or do a little strip tease. At first she would not expose her pussy, although she would touch herself there when asked. She did a lot of rubbing and touching her breasts and butt and pussy, but did not perform any overt sex acts.

But as time went by, she became more comfortable in front of the camera, and bolder. She would take off her top with a flourish, and she started pushing her bottoms aside or taking them off to massage and finger her pussy. At one point she became so emboldened that she would masturbate and very visibly show when she had an orgasm. Once she even squirted onto the camera lens.

Watching these videos, I was quaking. My hand shook as I worked the keyboard and mouse. I was mystified. I was angry. I was turned on. I was confused. I was mesmerized. I couldn't stop looking.

As I got closer to the present in viewing these videos I got the feeling that somebody was coaching her, giving her suggestions about how she could turn up the heat and make her displays hotter. I could also tell by the counter at the side of the screen that she was building audience - she had gone from a few hundred on her live stream at the start to 30,000 more recently. And these were paying customers!

Then I got a real shock. Four videos from the end she introduced a co-star. She told her audience that Sven was a new friend who would be helping her to spice things up. I recognized "Sven" as a Dave, a guy who lived with his wife a floor above us in the building, and who I saw occasionally on the elevator. He was a good-looking fellow, a bit over six feet, sandy hair, athletic build, wide white-tooth smile.

In their first video together, "Sven" just helped Ginger out of her clothes. He managed the keyboard and passed on the comments the viewers were making with something I supposed he imagined would sound like a Swedish accent. He made some leering comments and teased Ginger. At the end of the session they kissed, deeply. Other than that he did not engage in sexual activity with her.

In the next video they turned up the heat. Once "Sven" had stripped Ginger, the computer beeped and she got a request to touch him. She unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock. It was not a gigantic porn star cock, but it was big enough, and it was pointing at the ceiling. She played with it a little bit, stroking it and cupping his balls, but she did not take it in her mouth and she did not get him off. He did, however, feel her tits, rub her nipples, and touch her pussy. The session ended with a longer, deeper kiss. Watching, I was in a cold sweat. My stomach churned and my eyes were wet.

I almost didn't dare to open the next one, because I feared I would see what I knew I would see. But open it it did, and sure enough, by the time they were finished I felt like I would die. After the mild touchy strip tease stuff at the beginning, her fans started really pushing them. They asked him to suck her tits, and he did, and they asked her to take all of his clothes off him. She did. They asked him to put a finger in her. You could see her eyes flash "no," but after a moment she opened her legs and he reached down and fingered her. She squirmed, then with a coy smile she pushed his hand away. After that she was told to rub his cock, which she did, making him hard. Then it came. BEEP: "Suck him off." She looked at the camera and then at the hard cock bobbing in front of her, then back up into Sven's eyes. She froze. Then Sven pushed his cock up to her mouth. She took in in, hesitantly, kissed it, licked the end a little, then after a minute reflexes kicked in and her mouth began to work. Sure enough, after a couple of minutes she had sucked him off, he had come on her face, and my woodie had shrunk to a nubbin.

Then the final one. I went to the kitchen, poured myself a tumbler of Scotch, then came back and sat in front of the computer. My heart was pounding, the blood was pulsing in my temples, and my hand shook as I reached out to start the video.

It began like they all do, with Ginger sitting on the bed in a sexy negligee. She smiled coyly into the camera and welcomed her viewers to her latest session. Her costume for the night was a red two-piece, with a very skimpy bikini top made of see-through mesh material. Her nipples poked through very plainly. You couldn't see the bottoms in the opening shot, but in her navel you could see a glistening diamond stud. In her hand was some sort of a cord which snaked off camera. "Because I heard from so many of you that you enjoyed the addition of Sven to our sessions, I have asked him back. Say 'Hello,' Sven." Dave comes out from behind the camera. Unlike previous appearances, Dave isn't in street clothes this time. He is naked except for a loincloth (no kidding, a real loincloth) and a leather collar around his neck. The other end of Ginger's cord is fastened to a ring on the collar.

"Today we're going to try something different. Sven was a bad boy during our last session. And he has told me that he has always had a secret fantasy to be a sub. So I have decided to help him realize his fantasy. For today's session, I want you to tell me what you want to see Sven do. He will do your bidding - up to a point which I determine. So send your requests to me and we'll get this party started. To begin, Sven, why don't you suck my toes?" She swings her left leg up onto the bed and sticks her foot out toward his face. Her right leg is still on the floor, so she is shooting a clear pussy shot through the transparent net mesh of the bikini bottom.

Shortly after she began the lingerie modeling, I discovered one night as we began lovemaking that she had shaved herself down there. I asked her about it (not complaining) and she said she thought it would look better not to be showing hair through the skimpy bottoms she models. At the time that made sense, I thought.

So now she was displaying her pussy slit as Dave began sucking on her big toe and sensuously rubbing her foot and lower leg with his hands. He was really getting into it when the computer beeped and Ginger got their first request. She read, "'Tell Sven to show us his cock.' Okay, Sven, come sit next to me," she swung down her leg and patted the bed beside her, "and show them your cock." She tugged on the leash and Dave slid over to sit next to her, then pulled off his loincloth. Since his last appearance he had shaved his pubic region, so his cock and balls were in very plain view. He was not erect, but was about half-staff.

The computer beeped again. "Tell him to show us his balls." He stood closer to the camera and cupped his balls with his left hand, displaying them lewdly. Beep. "Tell him to stroke himself hard." He sat back down and stroked himself hard. Meanwhile, Ginger was playing with his leash, holding out her end like a pointer and tickling his nipples, under his arms, and finally the tip of his cock. Dave's cock stood straight and proud.

BEEP. "Make him eat you out."