Sarah was their sex

You can tell Sarah is withering under your wife's blistering interrogation, and is about to spill the beans about her night at the Rochester's. Your twice-emptied cock swells at the thought.

"I..I..was hired to be their sex **** for the weekend," the petite miss admits, without making eye contact of any kind.

"And, pray tell, how did this come to be, Sarah?" asks your wife.

You presume by your wife's tone that she already knows the answer, and is only doing this questioning for your benefit.

You watch as the teenager squirms a bit before answering.

"Mrs. Rochester had come home early the previous weekend and found me and her husband together."

"Her husband and I, Sarah," your wife corrects, now stroking the skin on the girl's right flank.

"Yes, ma'am, sorry, ma'am," Sarah apologizes.

"That sounds an awful lot like what's happened here, doesn't it, dear?" your wife asks.

Both of you simultaneously reply, "Yes," to her amusement.

"So, Sarah, are you willing to offer the same services to us, in exchange for my silence about your indiscretions with my husband?"

You watch as your wife cups the teen's chin in her palm and directs Sarah's gaze to his wife's face. Their eyes meet..Sarah's face flushes red in embarrassment. She simply nods.