My Wife Is A Sex Surrogate

My wife might serve as the ultimate example of the concept that sex and making love are altogether different. She completed training at night classes to be a sex surrogate. She works in this profession part-time, three nights and one Saturday each month. She alternates between two sex therapists’ offices.

Because I enjoy her dating other guys, I’m persistently hearing the stories from her sessions.

She became interested in that profession upon spotting a small ad in a local freebie newspaper she picked up at a nearby supermarket. The posting had been placed by two separate counseling offices specializing in erectile dysfunction and other sexual problems. Each office’s mental health counselors share her contractual services.

As she often does, she had been reading out-of-the-ordinary advertisements while sitting across from me at our breakfast table. She glanced up and asked whether I might have a problem with her taking a part-time job. At that moment, I don’t think she was seriously considering it.

I have encouraged her to quit her regular job for two years, in that we don't need the money. She resists because she enjoys her secretarial position at a large insurance branch office.

She also enjoys the after-hours "deep input" from the company's district manager who visits that office every couple of months, but she denies that has anything to do with it. That 40-year-old administrator boasts a seven and half inch ****; he and my wife have been ******* for almost a year now.

I said, "Why would you want to take on a part-time job in addition to your regular work?"

But when she clarified the nature of the ad, I thought it was a great idea. With my encouragement, my wife has dated other guys for just a bit over three years. Seemed like a terrific idea for her to get ****** by other men and be legally paid of it.

She responded to the inquiry and, as the ad requested, included a full-body photo and face portrait along with her resume. A copy of the photo is posted at our EP profile under “pictures.” She assumed their request was for her completely nude pic but later was told that wasn’t essential.

Although the two doctors manage separate practices, they were together for the interview in one of their offices. Upon the call-back interview, they informed her that she first would need to receive a certification for competency through an approved school.

They had by then conferred on the issue and went on, "If you're willing to sign a contract that you'll work with us a minimum of six months, we'll pay the school’s fee."

She accepted. The younger of the two psychologists told my wife later they hadn’t before offered to pay for training other applicants. He added, “We believe you could be an asset to our offices.” They also paid for the initial medical examination, an admittance requirement by the school to ensure that each student is disease-free.

Neither of us then understood the full requirements and memorization. Each topic fills a textbook: ethics, methodology in determining and responding to personality types, standard reactions to common questions, conversational patterns in intimate situations, and – of course – sexual control and response.

An extensive psychological profile is developed by those in this certification program. Almost every facet of her personal history and sexual experience seemed fair game for the questioners.
The instructors are comprised of one man and one woman. Each was not only certified as sex surrogates but also licensed as masseur and masseuse; the man also holds a barbers license but rarely practiced that profession.

The class met at their studio, a storefront locale with tinted windows and drapes shutting off the view from the ***** mall’s sidewalk. Just off the lobby is a juice bar but it’s rarely used. Down the hallway, six separate massage room are set on each side.

A copy of her sexual history folder was mailed to each of her potential employers for their personnel records.

Her extramarital dating hasn't been mentioned again to her by either counselor, so we had assumed that wasn’t a problem. In an update-review with the instructors, each concluded that her dating other guys with her husband's approval should be a plus for most practitioners.

We learned that these classes are typically small. Only three women and one man were in her group.

Just one other woman intended to practice as a surrogate; the other two entered the course for interest and personal development. All three women, including my wife, have had bi-sexual experiences.

The young guy had not except for an encounter when he was younger. He told the class in group session that a neighboring friend once performed oral sex on him.

The others figured that didn’t count, so my wife said, “If my only intercourse had been at 14, would that count?” The others said, “No.” The youngest student said, “I’d consider you a virgin.”

"Great!"my wife said, "Then I was a virgin for two more weeks!" The group burst into laughter.
I didn’t understand the reasoning behind his experience “not counting," but that’s what they said.

The male instructor is about 5’6”, three inches shorter than my wife, with the strong arms one would expect of a masseur. I met him only once when my wife’s car was in the shop and I drove her to class. He’s 50, with thinning blond hair. His athletic appearance belies his age by some ten years.

My wife felt he was hitting on her at one point early in lessons. She stuck around after class and asked for a conference in his office. She told him she'd be glad to **** him after she had completed all classes, as long as he didn't think it was for the grades.

He grinned in response and apologized for whatever misperception she may have had; he went on to say he hadn't intended anything he said to be interpreted that way. But before she left his office, he said, "On the other hand, that sounds like a great idea."

She said that convinced her that whatever he had previously said had been misinterpreted. She apologized for her jumping to the wrong conclusion.

Yet, that private interaction set off a chain reaction of sexual excitement in my wife’s mind and, as she would later learn, also in his.

Each woman practiced twice weekly at casually building up client-surrogate relationships through role-model playing with the only guy in their group setting. He played the part of a man who couldn't get an erection. This took a bit of imagination because his **** was persistently tent-poled.

Every session became more intimate. The women were directed to allow him to kiss and caress their breasts. Each unzipped his pants at the appropriate time and stroked his **** as if attempting to make him hard. Once when his eyes rolled in excitation, the girls giggled but stopped upon a glare by the woman instructor.

When needed, the men – both student and instructor – wore condoms provided by the school.

The instructor, though, only used them when the women practiced ************ techniques on him. He and my wife, by that time, had become friends. He would her touch her bare arm and she often touched his hand in a friendly manner. Occasionally, when alone, they found themselves holding hands.

She kept me informed of the details from each night's class. It was clear from her animation and voice that she was increasingly aroused by the thought of her instructor’s **** ultimately entering her ****. We ****** madly at night as she told me the details and finally admitted she was in a high state of stimulation, anticipating the feel of his **** penetrating the mouth of her eager *****.

Now, near the end of their course work, the lone male student had had sex with all three women. My wife described him as slender, with brown hair and eyes.

When the class began, my wife considered him to be shy and somewhat withdrawn. She and the other girls thought this was odd because each considered him to be very attractive. As time went by, she noticed a considerable confidence building in him.

The training progressed. He became as talkative and outgoing as the women. She thinks this had to do with his growing understanding of women, acceptance of his body - which he admitted he thought was too thin -and the rather obvious physical desire of his classmates.

The woman instructor is 30, tall, long-legged, auburn haired and freckled. The female students agreed she was “hot” and speculated on the extent on her sex life. She is married to a fast-food franchise owner.

On the third twice-weekly assembly, the instructor advised the class to sit in a circle on a carpet and wrapped her fist around her student’s penis. She demonstrated to the others how to fondle a man to erection and gentler methods of ************ a relatively new client. Handling a **** can be more aggressive when a client advances to an improved stage.

She rolled a condom around his **** and leaned to take his firm length into her mouth. His head rolled back in passion. She withdrew and allowed the class to observe as her tongue trailed from its base to the head. Again, her mouth engulfed his **** and her head bobbed until he stiffened and spurted into the condom.

That night, the discussion included students’ opinions on whether men preferred women to be shaven or unshaven. The instructor removed her lab coat and, as my wife had suspected, wore nothing beneath it. Her co-instructor recurrently shaves her mound for her. He offered to do this for any women who wished to do it. All agreed and he performed his services that evening.
The guy said, “Well, shave me too if you don’t mind.”

My wife offered to do that for him, but the instructor said, “Our insurance won’t allow that. If he gets nicked, our insurance company is liable.” He stuck his tongue thoughtfully against his cheek and added, “But you could help by holding his penis out of the way while I do it.”

He was the second to be shaved, just after my wife. She remained nude as he now was. He’s about my wife’s height, perhaps a half-inch taller, with short, dark hair and green eyes. His penis is some 4 inches soft.

When their instructor had used his straight razor on the upper size of the guy’s penile base and had followed that up with an electric razor, he turned to my wife and said, “Hold it up so I can start on the underside.”

She held his **** between her thumb and fingers as the barber worked his magic. The guy’s pole throbbed and expanded to semi-tumescence, then to hardness. She sat cross-legged at his feet, gripping his pole in her fist and lightly stroking it. When the instructor had finished his work, she continued holding onto his **** and caressed the smoothness of the flesh around it. “It’s so velvety!” she said to all.

The next to be shaven was the 23-year old, 5’4”, woman who manages cosmetics sales for our town’s largest department store. Almost all remarked how different she looked nude, compared to her appearance when she came to each night’s class from work. She presents a mature and supremely confident façade with her hair style, bearing, makeup, professional clothing and high heels; she had been judged as much older by her classmates.

But now, nude and her mound freshly shaven, her classmates were shocked. They said she appeared very young, perhaps even pre-teen. Although I’d have the opportunity to see her nude after their graduation, I wish I’d been there to witness that transformation.

My wife has since changed her hairdresser and now goes to this studio every three weeks for the masseuse-hairdresser to do her hair. The masseur-barber gives a free massage and shaves her mound whenever he’s not otherwise occupied.
Those three are now tight friends, and just one of those occasions might warrant a story in itself. She gets her hair done more often now than before.


My wife was the last of the three the younger guy ******. The group had, by then, been informed that he didn’t last long with the first partner, the 23-year old cosmetics department manager who appeared much younger than her years.

This had resulted in his attendance at a couple of off-hours interviews with the female instructor to help with his pre-***********. Each time thereafter, he held his *********** until the women had burst with *******.

Being the last of the three recipients of his young rod, my wife was the lucky beneficiary of this class work.

As he warmed her with his tongue, she shuddered and moaned, begging him to invade her ****. “Oh gosh,” she whimpered, “**** me now! I need your big tool.”

As his **** sank into my wife’s slippery and eager vagina, she wailed in delight. Her legs wrapped around him and her heels thumped against his buttocks and he thrust into her.
He withdrew, turned her to her knees and entered her hot **** from behind.

She had multiple ******* and shrieked in throes of passion, although both knew two trainers were watching from behind a mirror.

Her 24 year old partner whispered as he lay atop her after their session, "I wouldn't want to say this in a group, but you're the absolute best at this."

She said, "So what stud farm are you from? I gotta get that address!"

He didn't want to withdraw; so the woman in a lab coat and glasses approached him, placing a hand on his bare shoulder, and said, "You're having too much fun. Now you can pull your **** out."

She turned to my wife and said, “Perfect. Your performance is remarkable.” My wife caressed his deflating penis. She responded with an enthusiastic grin, “That was no act. He’s a bull!”
When the DVD of their session was presented on the class monitor before the group that evening, the students and instructors applauded.

Later, my wife would learn that the instructor and the guy-student were ******* after classes and weekends at his apartment. They had begun the affair just a week before he ****** my wife.
She brought home a group photo of the students. Two women are married; one is single and the man is single. Their ages range from 23 to 39. At 28, my wife was the next to the oldest of the four. Although the women are encouraged not to wear makeup, I'd consider all of them to be ... well, hot.

A fourth woman, the only African-American in the class, had also attended the first night but dropped out because she accepted a job as a club dancer across town. I suggested that we go to the club in the near future and watch her work.

My wife phoned each of her potential employers to make sure the job was still open. She was informed that her position still would be available upon completion of her classes. Each had clients waiting. The only part-time surrogate then on staff would be leaving within a month because of her husband’s transfer to another state.

One of the sex counselors was seeking a full-time surrogate for his burgeoning practice but hadn't found the "right" applicant, whatever that may mean. My wife reminded them she could only work one or two nights or weekends a month.

Although the job would not be full-time, both offered shared benefits as if she were. The younger doctor told her he would also throw in free travel and bonuses for accompanying him to seminars to “keep up” in the field.

She soon thereafter said to me, “I wonder whether I’m expected to **** them also.” I didn’t know but had also considered the possibility before she mentioned this.

She went on, “I wouldn’t mind. They’re both attractive.” As far as I was concerned, her enthusiasm sealed it; they’d definitely be ******* her. This was going to be a great job. She laughed when I told her that and looked down to my **** swelling in my khakis.

The week before their final class, the African-American woman who had intended to complete the course stopped by the studio.

She had been working six nights a week as a dancer. During this Great Recession, though, her work had been cut back two nights weekly. She said she wanted to just say, “Hi,” to the class and instructors and went on to say she now wanted to take the next course. The nightclub’s manager had agreed to allow her two free nights to correspond with class nights.

The students informed her of the intended “graduation party” the following week, and she requested permission to attend. She paid the instructors her fee for the upcoming class and promised to be at the party.


Completion of these studies isn’t a cap-and-gown affair. All except the cosmetics department manager were dressed in their typical casual clothes. The woman-instructor’s husband also showed up. He’s a good-looking guy, I’m told, about 5’10”, the same height as his wife. He leaned against the lobby’s counter to watch the ceremony.

Each instructor gave a short talk and passed out Certificates of Completion to each student by alphabetical order.

The club dancer arrived as promised at the studio during this brief ceremony. On her arm was a bouncer from her club, and he was the biggest guy by far in this gathering. The blond-haired guy was perhaps 6’4” and muscled beneath and beyond his dark tee shirt. His waist, though, was no larger than the class’ slim instructor’s.

When the last certificate was handed to the 39-year old housewife, the group whooped and hollered. Someone locked the doors. The party had begun.

The owners rarely use the juice bar alongside the lobby, but this night they turned it into a full liquor bar.

My wife and the 39-year-old student were the first to shed their clothes. They walked about the lobby and bar socializing in the nude, each showing off their recently shaved *******. Someone snapped a camera phone pic of my wife as she walked from the juice bar to the lobby. We posted a copy in our Experience Project “pictures album” even before writing up the rest of our story.

As the drinking and partying progressed, clothing fell away from the other former students, the student-to-be and the instructors. The lobby’s and each massage room’s piped-in music gave them the opportunity to dance with another.

The dancer’s escort asked the 39-year old woman to dance with him. Their instructor’s husband was a bit hesitant to ask the 23-year old cosmetics department manager until his wife had assured him she was of legal age; he immediately asked the girl to be his partner.

The male instructor and my wife walked toward the other and, without a word, embraced and moved in harmony with the slow tune. My wife is some three inches taller. She leaned forward, pressing her cheek to his and pressing her breasts against him.

His **** swelled. She parted her thighs to allow it to protrude through her legs. As they danced, the upper side of his stiff rod caressed the mouth of her bare *****.

He urged her to one of the massage rooms and closed the door behind him. This room had two massage tables, each alongside the other, used for couples who wished to be massaged simultaneously.

“I guess you knew I was waiting for this moment,” my wife told him. He said, “Me too, since you first thought I was hitting on you.”

She pulled away and lay atop the massage table at the room’s far side. He crawled between her thighs and my wife placed each leg over his shoulders. She glanced down to the narrow space between their bodies as he grasped his stiff rod and glided its broad head into the mouth of her *****.

She gasped. Tears streaked her cheeks as his baton slid through her lubricated cuntal walls.
As he thrust into her, she squealed in delight, causing the woman-instructor and her dance partner, the 24 year old student, to open the door and make sure everything was all right. My wife’s ****-buddy motioned for them to come in.

The student gestured his female instructor to lay on the other table, where he mounted her. She reached out a hand to hold my wife’s hand as the young guy entered her. The women moaned in unison as their partners slammed into them.

Each woman bawled in multiple *******, and finally each guy was *******.

They opened the door to cries of pleasure throughout the room. Two couples ****** on the lobby’s carpeting and the bouncer was pounding into his woman on the lobby’s couch. No one except the bouncer bothered to use condoms that night. Each knew the others were safe.
The room rocked amid howls of pleasure. The youngest woman straddled the hips of the instructor’s husband. She squealed and thrashed like a rider atop a wild stallion.

When each couple was finished, they would head to the showers and thereafter relax for awhile, catching their breaths.

And, until early morning, they swapped partners until each man had ****** every woman. The dancer and the 39 year old woman both smoked. They would at times tell their partners to “go over there and make a ********* for awhile” while they sat on the couch, lit up and watched the action.

My wife came stumbling in at 2:00 a.m., fully satisfied, and went straight to bed. She didn’t awaken that Saturday morning until noon.


Her only unusual client so far was her first. One of her new employers had taken a client about as far as necessary in office treatments, and the former part-time sex surrogate had just terminated her employment.

Her boss phoned her to request that she show up that weekend morning following graduation. The man had overcome his erectile dysfunction with the help of the former employee and should be ready for intercourse. “Changing surrogates isn’t common,” the therapist said to my wife over the phone, “but I don’t have any other ideas. Would that be okay?”

When she agreed she was anxious to get started, he added, “Oh yeah, the only thing you’ll need to know is that we tell all clients that anal insertion is never allowed.” He clicked off. My wife would learn that, although he has an pleasant personality, he has a persistent eccentricity of never saying, “Good-bye,” before hanging up the phone; he abruptly hangs up whenever he’s said what he wants to say.

As instructed, she wore a loose, button-up dress, hair tied up in a knot, wearing flat shoes and no underwear.

The office door was locked, and she knocked. This was fifteen minutes before the appointed time. The office’s receptionist let her in. She was working a few hours that Saturday morning to catch up on filing. After introducing herself, she said, “Your client isn’t here yet, but I’d like to get to know you anyway.” She sat on the waiting room’s couch and patted a cushion, inviting my wife to sit alongside her.

The receptionist is about 5’5”, with short cropped ash-blond hair and blue eyes. Although not as tall as my wife, her body is similarly proportioned, slender and well formed.

A couple minutes into their conversation, she confided some envy of my wife’s new job. She said, “I’d do it in a heartbeat if my husband would ever allow it, which he won’t.” She giggled and said, “For example, your client for today has been flirting with me for a month, and I’d take him on in a heartbeat.”

My wife inquired, “I guess it would be inappropriate for me to tell him that.” The receptionist responded in a whisper, “Tell him anyway. I’d like to **** him.”

She had left the door unlocked; and before my wife could say she would think about it, the office’s client walked in. The receptionist went to get the doctor who came out and introduced my wife to the man. His receptionist scurried through the office’s inner door, returning to her work.

The therapist left the two alone in a room with a double bed, a couch, a couple of chairs and a desk. Dark drapes closed off all light from outside. The only lighting was that of a night light plugged into a wall socket.

They sat alongside the other on the couch and introduced themselves; only first names are used in these situations; his was Mark.

My wife had noticed that Mark’s **** bulged beneath his jeans as the psychologist was escorting them to the privacy room. She look down and smiled, “Seems you have overcome any problem.”

He grinned.

She unbuttoned her dress and lay it on a chair. He removed his shoes, unbuttoned his shirt and unbuckled his jeans. As he removed his shorts, his **** sprang solidly up. The rod was dark-veined, topped by a large purplish head. My wife gasped at his size, saying, “Oh my gosh. You’re huge!” Perhaps he was but, compared to my tiny ****, every guy looks “huge” to her.

He didn’t lead her to the bed. Instead, he pushed her back against the wall and forced her legs apart. She cried out, “Oh yeah! Give me that big thing now! Just like this!”

As his **** propelled into her slick ****, She wrapped a long leg around him and gyrated her hips, matching each thrust. Her eyes rolled in their sockets.

Her hot groin thrashed against his. She moaned, wondering whether the slapping of their steaming flesh could be heard far down the hall.

Her cuntal walls quivered as she felt his lava rocketing though his ****. Her eyes rolled as they burst in mutual climax. They moved to the bed and cuddled, feeling the other and kissing deeply for another hour.

Before he left, she whispered, “By the way, if you want to try out your rediscovered skills, you ought to know our office receptionist confided to me that she would be interested in dating you. She’s married, but if don’t mind that, you might want to talk with her before you leave.
He has been ******* that young wife now for the past three months.

* * * * * *

The odd thing about her profession is that, although professionals receive a sufficient number of applicants for these positions, few of those women are willing to invest in the training required. Considering the income potential, this is surprising to me; but, what do I know? Seems to me that this would be a suitable job for certain college students and appropriate moms while their kids are at school.

My wife doesn’t call it a “profession” for the reason that she is only a part-timer, but she treats the job as if it were, with the seriousness she takes her full-time secretarial position. When we were laying nude in bed recently, I asked her, “But which job is more fun?”

She laughed, caressing her mound, “You’re kidding, right?” My **** sprang to life.

That moment was also the time she chose to inform me that she will be accompanying the younger of her two bosses at two out-of-state conferences the first of next year.

She had just told her full-time employer that she was taking an early three-day vacation in January and a three-day weekend in February to attend two "personal development" seminars. Because she’s recognized as an exceptional secretary who knows her job and never reveals confidential matters as most women in her office do, her supervisor and department head agree to almost anything she wants.

I had long loved her detailed stories of dates. Now, she goes on fewer outings with other guys, but I always look forward to hearing about her hot sessions with the two therapy offices’ clients.

She “works them up” during their initial visits.

As the office’s clientele near completion of their treatments, she ***** at least one, sometimes two, every month. She says each occasion is as thrilling as a first date but wonders whether this will continue to be true as time goes on. Intercourse isn't required with every client but she volunteered in one instance, with approval of the therapist, with one client she had been working with and was particularly attracted to.

We know this lifestyle isn’t for everyone. For that reason, we would never encourage others to give it a go. But for us and certain others, it works.
combook combook
31-35, M
20 Responses Jul 18, 2010

Please add me, really enjoyed your story, would love for my wife to be into this.

add me please , sounds like a fantastic job xx

I am going to look for a similar position for my wife!

great story. i could benefit from some sessions with your wife, she could teach me lots of stuff i missed out on in my youth.

most interesting!

please add. I loved this story.

please add!

a hell of an author, with a great story!

Incredible story! Thank uou

Awesome story, Great wife!

Great story. I really enjoyed reading it. Your wife sounds like a person who knows what she wants, and goes after it.

great writing. dont know if they do that in my state but going to look into it for my wife. then see if she would do it. sounds hot.

wow, that was amazing! thanks for sharing

A very long and beautifully told story. If this true, you are quite a person with a wife who has such sexual initiatives. Most of us can only share our wives occasionally but your wife is a professional, a professional ****, **** and wonderfully sexual. I would guess she is also a very sweet and honest person. <br />
Thanks so very much for sharing. Love it.

I really admire and envy the relationship you two have. You keep each other excited and satisfied, and without jealousy. I wish my wife had been so open to expanding her horizons, and that I had been more self-confident. Thanks for sharing your adventures!

gr8 tale of tail! i popped TWICE in reading that! ;-]

Your wife has a good life, she gets paid to have sex at all her jobs and she has you for support.

Really enjoyed your story, well written and arousing. Appears you and your wife are close and well adjusted to great sex life together. Keep it that way

Your stories and pictures are great and your wife is incredibly sexy and beautiful. Keep 'em coming!

My wife is thinking about going back to work and isn't sure whether she wants to go back to work as a nurse. I'm going to mention this to her to see if there's any interest. I've certainly got a hard on thinking about it.<br />
<br />
You're a very lucky man to have such a beautiful wife who is so at ease with her sexuality.