The DJ announced her name as “Eden,” and she took the stage in a whirl of energy, moving her body effortlessly in time to the thumping beat from the sound system, shimmying and shaking and smiling the whole time, as if she was made for this very moment.
Eden’s top came off quickly, as she slid her shoulder straps off and pulled the thin fabric down the length of her body, exposing her breasts. She had mocha skin with dark chocolate nipples, erect in the cool air of the club. Her black hair was straightened and long, past her shoulders. She had some thickness through her hips, soft natural breasts, some softness to her belly, and a round, full ass.
I shifted in my seat and reached for my wallet. I could tell immediately that this girl was going to be getting a lot of my money tonight. I glanced over at my wife, who nodded in approval, a lustful gleam in her eye. It’s wonderful to be married to a bisexual woman, especially one who shares my taste in women.
Earlier this year, my wife and I started going to strip clubs together, in part to help her explore her bisexuality, and in part, after 10 years of marriage, as a way to spice up our sex life.
We quickly discovered that going to a strip club as a married couple is like jet-fueled foreplay. It’s a headfirst dive into a sensual array of glorious nudity, sensations, touches and scents, a journey to a hidden world of writhing, gyrating naked women, dancing for our pleasure, enticing us with their bodies, rubbing themselves against us, showing us everything.
We’re not quite strip club “regulars,” but every month or two we try to make the trip to one of our favorite clubs. It’s become one of the Date Night experiences that I most look forward to. Why bother going out to dinner and a movie, when you can watch and interact with real-life sexy naked women?
One of my hesitations before we started going to strip clubs was that I was afraid it would feel “wrong,” somehow. I was afraid I would feel guilty about being there, like I was exploiting the women or taking advantage of them. And I didn’t expect that the women at the club would be my type. My wife and I are clean-cut professionals, even rather geeky, and I wasn’t sure if we would feel comfortable at a strip club. I had heard a lot of stereotypes about strippers and I was afraid that the strippers would be weird, drugged out, emotionally damaged, or somehow not enjoyable to be around.
But my worries were unfounded. If anything, the opposite proved to be true. I quickly found that I loved talking with the strippers, flirting with them, touching and being touched by them. I loved watching them caress and tease my wife. I loved giving them my money.
Spending money on strippers was some of the best money I’d ever spent, because I always got to go home in a better mood than when I went in. My wife and I would fall into bed together, ablaze with the crackling energy of sex and seduction, still smelling like strippers’ body lotion and perfume.
I loved to see them sweat, I loved to see their bodies move under the strobe lights, and I loved feeling their exertions as they rubbed and grinded against me.
In a strange way, I felt like strip clubs were places where I truly belonged. “These are my people,” I thought to myself. “This is my community, this is my subculture.” I had never been a religious person, but I wondered if the way I felt at a strip club was the way religious people feel when they’re in church.
I loved the whole experience of the strip club: the uninhibited sexuality, the female attention, the unique energy in the room — the focused worshipful appreciation of the female form, combined with an alluring and welcoming vision of femininity.
Some people might think strip clubs were sleazy and morally wrong, but I didn’t care. I found the strip clubs to be liberating and honest, more honest in a way than everyday life. A strip club was one of the rare places in the world where I could meet certain emotional needs that were all too often repressed or unfulfilled. You paid the dancers for their time and talents, and it wasn’t cheap, but it was a very good value.
My wife and I saw all kinds of strippers during our evenings at the clubs: dancers ranging in age from 19 to mid-30s, and even one 38-year-old dancer who said she had teenage daughters of her own (but you would never guess it from her petite, toned body). We saw blonde white girls, brunettes, redheads, Black girls, Latina girls, Asian girls. Girls with piercings and tattoos, girls with fake breasts, girls who were all natural. Skinny girls, curvy girls, slightly chubby girls — I loved them all.
I loved the smoothness of their bodies, the effort they made to entertain us, and the way they did their hair and makeup to look pretty for us. I admired the dancers’ athletic abilities, their physical strength, and their emotional courage to do this type of demanding work. I found something to appreciate in almost every stripper I saw, but Eden was by far the best I’d ever seen. And I knew it instantly.
Eden had a casual, friendly, emotionally generous spirit about her. She was one of the rare strippers who were not afraid to let some part of her real personality show through. With some strippers, they seem uptight, or their stage routine feels like an act, or they won’t let you touch them very much, or it seems like they’re just going through the motions.
Eden was different. She was enjoying being there. She seemed authentically interested in the attention of the audience, smiling and talking easily with the men and women sitting by the stage.
I placed two dollar bills on the edge of the stage and waited for Eden to come give us her attention. She crawled over to us and knelt in front of us.
“Good evening, guys,” she said. “Come give me a hug!”
I stood up and leaned forward as Eden embraced me, and then placed my hands on her breasts, letting me feel her stiff nipples. I was smitten. Completely. Already.
“You’re amazing,” I said, already feeling totally uninhibited in my fascination with her. “God, can I give you another hug?”
Eden laughed. “Of course!” We embraced again, our foreheads touching. “Wow, you’re really into me,” she said.
Eden moved on to my wife, pressing her breasts against my wife’s face in a warm, lingering hug. “We’re going to have some fun tonight,” said Eden.
The next song started and Eden teasingly stepped out of her G-string, and was now fully nude on stage. I placed two more dollars on tip rail, and Eden sat in front of us and spread her legs, rubbing her clitoris with her fingertips, spreading the folds of her labia to show us how wet she was. I was almost close enough to taste her.
She moved over to my wife.
“Stand up,” Eden said. “Customers aren’t the only ones who get to have some fun!”
She pulled off my wife’s shirt and unfastened her bra in a single deft motion, leaving my wife’s breasts exposed to the room full of strangers.
“You have beautiful breasts,” Eden said. “Can I kiss them?” My wife was a bit shy, but nodded her head, “Yes.”
Eden moved closer and took my wife’s nipples in her mouth, sucking and licking them, one at a time. My wife moaned with delight. After Eden finished, she sat down again, with a glazed expression and flushed cheeks.
Usually the dancers were only on stage for 3 songs at a time, and customers are expected to tip the girls $1 per song — but I found myself pulling out a stack of dollar bills and beckoning Eden over to us again and again.
“We can’t get enough of you,” I said to her. She laughed. “I’m the best you’ve ever had, huh? Here, sit down and lean forward — sit still.”
Fully nude, Eden inched herself forward to the edge of the stage and straddled me, then extended her legs forward and squeezed my face between her thighs. She had me pressed so close against her that I could smell the scent of her sex, sweet and inviting. I let my fingertips trace slowly up the backs of her legs, all the way back to her naked ass, cupping her buttocks in both hands as she swayed back and forth.
She finished with me and moved back to my wife. My wife was feeling bolder now.
“Can I kiss you here?” My wife asked, reaching out to touch Eden’s nipples.
“Sure, baby,” Eden said. “Damn, you’re so sexy.”
My wife closed her eyes tightly as she took Eden’s breasts in her mouth, caressing each one with her tongue, drawing out the pleasure, leaving Eden’s nipples aroused and glistening under the lights. Eden was short of breath. “Damn girl,” she said. “This is your wife? You’re a lucky man.”
Eden finished her set and exited the stage. I caught her eye and waved to her, inviting her to come sit with us. “I’ve got to run to the dressing room for a few minutes,” said Eden. “But then I’ll come hang out with you.” She left, taking the stack of cash she’d earned during her stage set.
I watched her leave, appreciating the view from behind.
“I like this one,” I said to my wife.
“I know,” my wife said.
“No really, I like her a LOT.”
“Hmmmm,” my wife said. “Maybe we’ve found our unicorn?”
I chuckled. “Do you think it would be possible?” I asked.
“It never hurts to try,” she said. “Anything is possible.”
I looked back toward the dressing room door.
My wife and I had fantasized for a long time about having a threesome with another woman. We had placed ads on adult dating sites, but nothing had come of it — there were too many married couples chasing too few single bisexual women.
“I REALLY like this girl,” I said to my wife. “Let’s go for it. What the hell. We’ve got nothing to lose but a little bit of pride.”
And I knew that trying to date a stripper was almost always a fool’s errand, even for single guys, let alone 35-year-old married couples. But still, there seemed to be something very special about Eden. I was deeply transfixed by her. I kept glancing toward the dressing room door, hoping to see her emerge.
Finally she did. Eden came over to our table and gave us each a warm hug.
“I loved your set,” I said to her.
“Thank you,” she said.
“No really, your stage work is fantastic,” I said. “You really are one of the best dancers I’ve seen.”
“Aw, you’re sweet,” she said. “It’s fun to see nice-looking couples like you two. What are you doing here tonight? Do you come here a lot?”
“We come here as often as we can afford to,” I said. “Let’s just say…my wife and I share an interest in women.”
Eden smiled. “Damn, you really are a lucky man,” she said.
“What about you?” my wife asked Eden. “This is the first time we’ve seen you at this club, are you new here?”
“I’ve been dancing for awhile, but this is my first night working here,” she said. “I’m just visiting this city for the weekend. In fact, I just bought these shoes tonight because I left my dancing heels at home — I’ve been tripping over these heels all night! I drove over here with one of my dancer friends from my regular club — she’s Honey, the blonde on the second stage. Business has been slow there lately, so we thought we’d check out some clubs here instead.”
We gazed over at Eden’s friend Honey, who was fully nude and inverted, sliding slowly down the pole headfirst.
An idea started to develop in my mind: Eden was visiting from out of town. That meant she wasn’t beholden to this club for her full-time income and wouldn’t be bound by any rules against contacting customers outside the club. She drove here from out of town with her dancer friend, so that meant she didn’t have a boyfriend waiting to pick her up after work. That meant she was probably staying at a hotel.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” I thought to myself. “And don’t try too hard.”
We talked further with Eden and learned that she was 21 years old and was a single mom with a 2-year-old daughter. The girl’s father was no longer in the picture, and her latest boyfriend had recently broken up with her after he moved to California, where he worked as a professional football player.
“He’s a pro athlete, and all the girls in California are Barbie dolls,” Eden said with a shrug, as if she could never compete with those other women.
“Well, if your old boyfriend didn’t appreciate you enough, he’s short-sighted, because you’re gorgeous,” I said.
“You are too sweet,” she said, laughing. “I like you. You really have a way with words.”
“What I lack in muscles, I make up for with sweetness and enthusiasm,” I said. Eden laughed again.
“I like you too,” I said to her. “You’re just so…nice. You’re open. A lot of girls at the club, they have a front they put up. I feel like you’re being real. You’re just out here, being you. And I think it’s the girls who are most emotionally generous, who really share something of themselves, that make the most money.”
“Thanks,” Eden said. “Yeah, I see it all the time, some girls come out with this pouty face, some girls look sullen, some girls have a bad day and they bring it on stage with them. I just try to have a good time, and let everybody else have a good time too.”
While we talked, I let my hand rest on Eden’s leg, caressing her thigh. I enjoyed being in the company of this woman, along with my wife. My wife was watching the other dancer on stage, but now and then she glanced over at Eden and me with a sly look, smiling. She raised her eyebrow at me, as if to say, “Making progress?”
I gave my wife a quick thumbs-up sign. Eden noticed. “What’s going on?” she asked, slightly coy. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Just enjoying the show,” I said, flirtatiously.
“So what do you do?” Eden asked.
“I’m an engineer,” I said. “I’m really kind of a nerd. Does that, uh…do you go for nerdy guys? Especially nerdy white guys, right?”
Eden smiled and laughed again. “I like all kinds of guys,” she said. “It depends on what the guys are looking for and what kind of experience they can offer me.”
I had decided from the beginning of this conversation that I was going to be honest with Eden — I didn’t know how else to be. I had never picked up a stripper before, but all of my other success with women had been based on being myself and being honest.
I had always been kind of a nerdy, shy guy during my younger years, and back when I was Eden’s age I never would have taken a chance on talking to a woman like her. But now that I was in my mid-30s I felt like I was finally coming into my own. I had matured into a good-looking man.
I still had a full head of hair, with just a few flecks of grey. I made a good living, I dressed well, and I carried myself with a level of confidence and sophistication that I didn’t have back when I was in my early 20s. Now that I was a grown man, I knew what I had to offer to a woman and I wasn’t afraid to state my case.
The music in the club was getting louder, so Eden and I pushed our chairs closer together and leaned forward to continue the conversation, our heads almost touching. I rested my hand against Eden’s lower back, caressing her there, my fingers touching her soft skin through the thin fabric of her outfit.
“I want to get a dance with you,” I said. “A private dance. Can my wife come with me?”
“I’m sorry, the club doesn’t allow couples’ dances — you’d both have to pay the fee,” said Eden.
I checked my wallet. I only had enough cash for one $25 dance. But I needed to get Eden alone. I asked my wife, “Can I go do a dance with Eden, all by myself?”
My wife said, “Sure. You seem to need the attention more than I do right now.”
“Okay,” I said to Eden. “Are you ready?”
“Let’s do it,” she said, and stood up, suddenly tripping and falling forward. “Whoah!” she said. I caught her, steadying her and helping her to her feet. “These damn heels,” she said. “These shoes are going to kill me.”
We were both laughing. I held her hand and stroked her back, drawing her closer to me, cuddling her a bit. “I don’t want to lose you yet,” I said. “We haven’t even had our dance.”
It was really a very sweet moment. Strange as it sounds, this time spent with Eden felt almost like a first date.
We made our way to the Private Dance room, where Eden would give me an up close and personal experience for the duration of a single song. I felt a rush of anticipation. I wanted to get even closer to her than I had gotten at the stage. I wanted to experience so much more of her — not just her body, but her spirit, her personality, I wanted to learn more about the type of woman she was and what moved her sexually.
We got to the Private Dance area. Eden gestured toward a couch. “Sit here,” she said, her voice quieter now. We were alone in this darkened room. Eden peeled off her top and bottoms, wearing only a G-string. She straddled my lap and ran her hands over my shoulders and chest. I let my hands explore the fronts of her legs, her belly, her breasts, everywhere but that tiny triangle of fabric between her legs. The song started and she began to sway her hips back and forth to the rhythm, squeezing me with her muscular thighs.
“Can I kiss you here?” I asked, touching her nipples. She exhaled excitedly, and nodded, “Yes.” I took her nipple in my mouth, gently sucking and licking her, feeling her nipple getting harder against my tongue.
“Damn, you’re married huh?” she said. She started grinding harder against my lap, feeling my erection pressing against her G-string. “You’ve got a nice-sized cock, too.”
“My wife says it’s as big around as her wrist,” I said. Eden moaned a bit when I said this — closing her eyes and pressing more intently against my manhood. Either she was a really good actress, or I seemed to be getting through to her.
Dancing is hard work, and Eden was sweating, her skin a bit slick with perspiration. With each bucking sway of her hips, Eden’s breasts brushed against my face, as her belly touched my chest.
Suddenly, breathily, Eden whispered to me, “I’d fuck the shit out of you.”
“You can,” I said. I looked her in the eyes, and we pressed our foreheads together again. “My wife and I have a non-traditional marriage. And we’ve been looking for a woman like you.”
Eden closed her eyes tight, smiling, as if she was thinking hard about what I just said. I leaned in closer and whispered in her ear. “Can I kiss you? Not on the mouth, not yet…just…here?” And I touched her ear, tracing my finger delicately along her cheek and neck.
Again, Eden nodded “Yes.” She stopped moving, and was sitting still on my lap, pressing against my hard cock.
I leaned forward and gently nibbled on her earlobe and then delivered a series of soft kisses along her face, sliding down to the nape of her neck. I tasted her skin. I could taste the salt of her sweat, smelling the fragrance of her perfume, feeling the dark curtain of her hair against my face, luxuriating in the softness of her, and breathing her in.
“You want to know my favorite way to experience a woman?” I whispered to Eden.
“What?” she said.
“Going down on her,” I said, and Eden moaned as if this was the most exciting thing she’d heard in a long time. “God, I want to lick you,” I said. “I want to taste you, all of you.”
It was true. Unlike many men, I seemed to have never lost my enthusiasm for cunnilingus. My favorite way to be with a woman, almost more than intercourse, was to have my face between her legs.
I loved the intimacy of it. I loved tasting her, feeling her texture with my lips and tongue, hearing her sigh and moan, feeling her writhe and lean into me as the intensity of her pleasure builds. Even after 10 years of marriage, I still got aroused from going down on my wife, and now I was imagining a new level of arousal from being with Eden as well.
Eden let out a little sigh, again, writhing on me even harder now. “Show me your tongue,” she said. “I want to see what your tongue can do.”
Vanessa arrived at Steve’s house to pose for a painting. She was greeted at the door by Susan. “Hi, Van. Come on in. I have to run to the store to get some things I need for lunch.” They exchanged a peck in the cheek and Susan added, “Just go ahead, Steve is the studio, first door down the hall.”
“Hi Sue, thank you.” Vanessa said, “You’re looking good this morning, I don’t know what it is but you look radiant.”
“Why, thank you,” Sue said a little flustered, “Probably it is because I just finished doing Yoga.”
“Oh, yes. Steve mentioned that you do.” Vanessa said, “We have also been taking some yoga classes, maybe we could get together sometime so you can give us some advice.”
“I’d be glad too. Anytime, actually I’m thinking about starting a class. But now I really have to go, I also have an appointment at the dentist for a check up.”
“Oh, sorry to hold you back.” Vanessa apologized.
Steve came out from the hallway and he greeted Vanessa kissing her on the cheek and gave Susan a farewell kiss on the mouth.
“Ready?” he asked Vanessa.
“As ready as I can be.” Vanessa answered.
“Did you bring your homework?” Steve asked her, taking her arm to guide her to the studio.
“Right here teacher.” Vanessa said, showing him a sketching block.
They walked into the bedroom that Steve had transformed into a studio, Vanessa saw there was a stool in the middle of the room, and easel at one corner, a drawing board and several canvases against the wall. The painting of Susan that Steve had shown her the previous time hung on a wall. There were two other portraits of her and two nudes on the other walls. A sofa was pushed against one of the walls.
“I had to push everything out of the way so I can move around you as I sketch.” Steve said waving his arm around.
Vanessa gave him her sketch book and sat down on the couch.
“Would you like something to drink, coffee or tea or something else?” Steve asked.
“No not right now, thank you.”
Steve sat on the couch and began turning the pages on Vanessa’s sketch book. Vanessa sat down next to him and watched as he flipped through the pages. Vanessa had asked Robert to pose for her one afternoon and had made some sketches, no trying to capture every detail but just letting the lines flow, shadowing some parts, he also had done a few others from pictures of her and Pamela.
When Steve saw the all, he asked Vanessa, “Tell me which ones you like best.”
Vanessa moved closer to him and their thighs pressed together. She flipped through the pages pointing out those she liked and her breast brushed against his arm several times, she could feel her nipples hardening and she glanced down and saw that Steve was getting a hard on.
When she was through, Steve commented, “Yes, those are much better than any you have done in class. See what I mean about letting yourself go as you sketch?”
“Yes, actually I did them pretty quick.” Vanessa answered, “I felt that it was too fast, that I had to put some more work on them, but I refrained from doing it.”
“Good, just keep working like that.” Steve told her, his arm was still pressing against Vanessa’s breast and neither he nor she had moved away.
“Tell me which ones you like best.” Vanessa asked him.
Steve pointed two a several sketches of Robert, “The other ones, you did them from photographs?”
“Yes, but how can you tell?” Vanessa asked surprised.
“They are a bit stiffer and they lack depth.” Steve said, and added, “But they are OK, it’s always better to work with a live model, but I know that’s not always possible. Anyway, keep working on this, from now on I want you to do only sketches at the class where we have the live models, forget about painting for a while, OK?”
“Fine I’ll do that.” Vanessa asked.
“And now, shall we get started?” Steve asked her.
“Yes, what shall I do?”
“Just come and sit here on the stool.” Steve said, “We’ll start like that.”
“I hope these clothes are OK?” Vanessa asked as she sat on the stool.
She had chosen a thin printed loose skirt that came just below her knees and her peasant blouse. She sat on the stool and adjusted her blouse, lowering a little, only enough to expose the top of her breasts. She placed one leg on the floor and the other one on the stool’s foot-rest, one hand on her hips and the other one resting on her thigh.
“The clothes are fine,” Steve told her, taking his sketch pad and a piece of charcoal, “And the pose is great. Just turn your head a little to the right. Have you modeled before?”
“Well, my husband’s hobby is photography, and I’ve posed for him.” Vanessa said, “He’s the one who took the photos I worked from.”
Steve hadn’t failed to notice that the sketches portrayed two different women, must likely one of them was Vanessa, but, who was the other one? He wondered… He worked quickly moving around the stool to catch several angles.
“OK, now, could you raise your skirt a bit, to about half thigh?” Steve asked her, not sure how she would react, “And lower your blouse a bit on one side, to show part of your breast?”
“Sure.” Vanessa stood up to let her skirt fall over the stool; she sat down again and crossed her legs raising her skirt, knowing that most of her legs were thus exposed. The she adjusted her blouse, lowering a bit like Steve had asked but she said, “Is this enough or do you want the whole breast to show?”
Without waiting for his answer she lowered the blouse exposing her right breast.
“That’s fine,” Steve said hoarsely. “You sure you’re comfortable with it?”
“Yes, I am.” Vanessa answered looking at Steve directly in the eye, “But what about Sue? What would she say if she finds me naked here?”
“Naked? You mean…?” Steve stammered.
“Yes, I talked to my husband about it and we would love to have a painting of me in the nude, painted by you of course.” Vanessa said. “You’d do it, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course… it’s just that I never…” Steve regained his composure, “Of course I’ll do it, although that would take a few sessions.” And then he quickly added, “And no, I don’t think Sue would mind.”
“I don’t want to get you in any kind of problem.” Vanessa added.
“No, don’t worry.” Steve said, beginning to sketch again.
Next he asked Vanessa to pose standing up without her blouse. She did several poses standing up, noticing that the bulge under Steve’s pants hadn’t softened. Then without Steve having to ask her, she undid the clasp of her skirt and it dropped to the floor, she stood naked in front of him, her hands on her hips, her legs slightly parted. Steve realized then that she hadn’t worn any underwear and he felt his cock jerking, ‘God! She’s really a very desirable woman… I wonder if…?’ but he dismissed the thought and said.
“That’s a beautiful pose, hold it, will you?” Steve said, and trying to ease his nervousness, he added, “I hope you don’ go around without underwear in your classes.” Just as he finished uttering the words, he regretted it, what would Vanessa think?
But Vanessa just laughed and she answered, “Well, sometimes I do.”
Just then Susan walked into the studio. She stopped in her tracks seen Vanessa standing nude in the middle of the room. “I’m sorry, but the door was not closed.”
Vanessa didn’t make any effort to cover herself, and she just said very naturally, “I asked Steve of he would do a nude painting of me, you see, I told my husband and we would love to have one. I loved the ones he showed me the other day. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh, no,” Susan said, “I was just surprised, the other times when he’s had a model posing nude he usually closes the door. But no, I don’t mind at all. It’s been sometime since he hired another model and he’s just been drawing me, so I guess now I’ll get some rest,” she added in a playful tone.
“Great!” Vanessa said, “I’m glad this doesn’t bother you.”
Steve had gone over to his wife and placed his arm around his shoulders, “See, I told you I have a very understanding wife,” and he kissed Susan.
“So now I’ll leave you alone to work, I’ll go and do some chores and fix lunch, it’ll be ready in about an hour. Is that OK, or do you need more time?”
“That’s fine,” Steve said, “We’ll be done in an hour, I’m just doing some sketches now.”
After Susan left, Steve asked Vanessa, “Do you have anything in mind for the painting you want?”
“I was thinking of posing like the Maja,” Vanessa said referring to the famous painting by Goya.
“Then I guess we’ll need the couch. Let me move it over so the light is right.”
“I’ll give you a hand.” Vanessa said.
They moved the couch around until Steve was satisfied that it got the proper light. He was surprised by how at ease Vanessa was with her nudity. Vanessa adopted the pose, lying down in the couch, her arms above her head; one leg straight down and the other one bent at the knee at right angles with the couch. Vanessa was perfectly aware that when Steve stood at a certain angle he had a perfect view of her vagina. This made her juices begin to flow and she noticed the bulge in Steve’s trousers hadn’t diminished.
Steve was having a hard time controlling his thoughts. Usually when he painted a nude he didn’t think about sex. But now it was totally different, he kept thinking what it would be like to caress Vanessa’s breasts, to take her nipples in her mouth, to lick her juicy pussy, to fuck her. He was certain that she could see his state of arousal, still she hadn’t said anything nor did she try to cover herself. Finally he decided he’d better stop, so he told Vanessa that they were done. She took her clothes and slipped them back on, and then she asked him if she could see the sketches.
Again she sat very close to him on the couch and pressed her breast against his arm as she flipped the pages.
“They are beautiful Steve,” Vanessa said, “they are really lovely.” And she gave him a wet kiss on the cheek.
Just then Susan entered since nobody had closed the door. “I’m glad you’re done. Lunch is ready, but first let me see what you’ve done.”
She sat at the other side of Steve and he flipped through the sketches again, “I have to agree with Van, these are lovely.” Susan said, “Isn’t he a great artist?”
Vanessa realized that Susan must have heard her comments and probably she had seen them kissing her husband but still she hadn’t said anything and she didn’t seem to be upset in the least. She was glad and wondered if she would ever get to fuck Steve, because she knew the only way she would do it, was if Susan agreed or participated, but she kept this to herself and just agreed with Susan.
“Yes, he is very talented.”
“I’m always telling him he should devote more time to his painting and mount a full exhibition.” Susan said, getting up, “But come along, we’ll talk about this over lunch.”
* * *
After Vanessa had left, Steve tided up his study rearranging the furniture and went to the kitchen looking for Susan. She was finishing washing the dishes and Steve stepped behind her circling her waist with his arms. He kissed her neck and pressed his body against her. Susan felt his hardness against her rear and when he cupped her breasts she turned around circling his neck with her arms.
“My, my, aren’t we hot?” Susan said kissing his lips, “Van really left you all worked up?”
“You have to admit she is hot!” he said placing his hands on her ass, “She has a great body.”
“Yes she does.” Susan admitted as Steve nibbled her neck causing her skin to fill with goose bumps, “But I had never seen you this worked up with any of the other women who have modeled for you, except when I pose for you.”
“What can I say,” Steve mumbled pulling her top up and unhooking her bra, “I don’t know what came over me.”
Susan lifted her arms and Steve pulled her top and bra off bending down to suck a nipple in his mouth. She put her hand behind his head and pulled it closer to her, arching her back to push her breast deeper into his mouth.
“Mmhhh,” Susan moaned, “now suck the other one.”
As Steve sucked the other nipple he unbuttoned Susan’s jeans and pushed them down her legs slipping his fingers in her slit. He was surprised to see how wet she was.
“Mmhh, you’re all wet honey.” He said, working his fingers into her cunt.
“You know I love it when you nibble my neck and suck my nipples.” Susan said. Now let’s go to the bedroom and get you out of these clothes.”
“I don’t think I can wait to get to the bedroom,” Steve said unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall down his legs, he kicked them off and after Susan pulled his t-shirt over his head he grabbed her ass and lifted her so she was sitting on the kitchen counter.
He grabbed his cock, and guided it to the entrance of her vagina, pushing forward he sunk his shaft into her. Susan wrapped her legs behind his back as he began pumping his cock in and out of her.
“Oh God! Honey,” Susan gasped, “You’re so hard… Yessss… Move faster… fuck me harder…”
Steve was breathing hard as he fucked his wife. She knew he probably was fantasizing about Vanessa but she didn’t care. Sometimes when they went out they would play a game, selecting someone at the restaurant, or wherever they were, that they liked. Susan would pick a man and point him to Steve, and he would pick a woman pointing it to Susan. They when on their way back home, they would tell each other what they imagined the people they had chosen would make love to them, or what they would do to them. This really fired them up and they had some wild sex fantasizing about the other person.
Steve bent forward to suck Susan’s nipples and this triggered her orgasm. As her inner muscles clamped around his shaft, Steve drove into her and began cumming. Steve kissed Susan on the mouth and then covered her face with kisses. She relaxed her legs and his cock slid out of her.
“Come, let’s take a shower or you’re going to be late for your class.” Susan told Steve leading him to the bathroom.
“I think I’m going to enjoy your painting sessions with Van.” She told him with a smile on her face.
* * *
Vanessa checked the time, ‘Good, I still have time before my class,’ she thought. She called Robert and asked if he was not to busy so she could drop in to tell him how the session had gone.
“No, I’m not to busy right now. My next meeting is at four so you can come for a while.”
She didn’t know if she would have enough time to go back home and change after posing for Steve so she had brought some clothes to change in case she was running late.
Vanessa walked into Robert’s office after greeting his secretary and locked the door, she was carrying a large purse and one of her business suits in a hanger. She locked the door, placed her bag and hanger on a chair and went to kiss Robert.
“So how was it?” Robert asked, “And what’s with the clothes?”
Vanessa stepped back and said, “As far as the clothes, I have to change before I go to school.” And she pulled her top over her head and stepped out of her skirt and shoes. “And as far as how it went, it was great, he did some great sketches as I laid there nude while he stared at me and drew. God I’m so hot I was worked up I was you could do something about it.” And she sunk to her knees and began lowering his fly.
“Here?” Robert asked, “Right now? We’ve never done it here.”
“No we haven’t but I think it would be exciting.” Vanessa said taking Robert’s limp cock in her mouth. The sounds of telephones, people typing and several voices could be heard outside his office.
It didn’t take Vanessa long to make Robert’s cock hard, she stood up and pushing some papers aside she climbed on his desk she spread her legs. “Come, I need you inside me.”
Robert stood up and after rubbing his cock up and down her slit, he penetrated her.
“God! Van,” He said as his cock sank into her vagina, “You’re really wet. So tell me more.”
“He did several sketches with me sitting on a stool first and then standing up.” Vanessa began telling him as he pumped his cock into her, “Then I lay on a couch with my legs spread while he drew. He chose an angle from where he could see my pussy. I got wet right then… Mhhh, yes, that’s it, a little faster… I had to really control myself not to touch myself right then.”
Robert kept fucking his wife, pinching her nipples, “So that was all?” he asked pushing Vanessa’s legs back over her chest. As his cock sank deeper Vanessa gasped.
“Oh yesss… I’m almost there. Yes, that was all, but all the time I could see the bulge under his pants and I imagined his cock inside me which only made things worse. Oh shit… don’t stop now… I’m…”
Vanessa had to bite her hand not to scream out as she reached her climax. Robert kept on fucking her and she came a second time when his semen filled her vagina.
Vanessa got some tissues from her bag and placed them between her legs, as she sat down.
“I didn’t know if his wife was going to get mad. She actually saw me flirting with him quite openly, but she didn’t. She was pretty cool about the whole thing.” Vanessa said as she sat on one of the chairs to wait for his cum to drip out of her, “I told them about some pictures you’ve taken of me and I promised to take some the next time I go, so would you make a CD with some of the more artistic ones. I’m going back day after tomorrow for another session.”
“And do you think they might…” Robert asked.
“I don’t know.” Vanessa said, “Steve was obviously turned on by me. And Sue was pretty cool about the nudity, but I don’t know. I was thinking of asking them over for dinner on Saturday, to show them more photos and if we feel things are right, maybe a video and we’ll see what happens. What do you think?”
“That’s fine with me.”
Vanessa stood up and dried the cum that was on her thighs, she threw away the tissue and liked her fingers. “Mmhh, that taste’s good.” She took a pair of stockings and a blouse from her purse and sat down to put the stockings on. She slipped into her blouse and then put on her skirt. She put on her jacket and turned around so Robert could inspect her. “What do you think?”
“You look gorgeous,” Robert answered, But, what, no underwear?”
Vanessa looked at him mischievously and answered, “I’m still feeling naughty. So think of me standing in front of my students without any panties and probably some of your cum on my thighs. And hurry home.”
“I’d love too, but remember I have to present a project tonight, so I’ll be home rather late.”
“Shit, I forgot that.” Vanessa said going over to kiss Robert goodbye. “Well, then I think I’ll drop in on Pam after class.”
“Remember Ed is going to be at the meeting too.” Robert said, walking with her to the door.
“I’m sure Pam and I will figure something out.”
“I’m sure you will,” Robert said opening the door and kissing her again, “Thank you. That really eased my tension.”
* * *
Vanessa arrived at the school still with time to spare so she went to the faculty lounge and poured herself a cup of coffee. A few minutes later Steve came in and he went over to her and kissed her on the cheek. He poured himself some coffee and they sat at a table, chatting as they usually did. Vanessa took a pen from her purse and wrote something on a napkin, folded it and handed it to Steve. The note simply said ‘Still no underwear.’ She stood up and bent down to kiss him on the cheek.
“I have to go now, see you around.”
At the lecture she saw Josh sitting there, and a few minutes later Steve came into the lecture hall and sat down in the back. Midway through the lecture Vanessa took off her coat. Her white blouse was not thin enough but she knew her breasts bounced with her movements and she saw Josh, Steve and several other students squirming in their seats, trying to hide their hard-ons. She got excited again and her juices started flowing.
After the lecture she got on her car and phoned Pamela to ask if she could drop by.
I received some feedback on a story I wrote from a woman calling herself Sharon Alderson. Now I say “calling herself” because from the very beginning I suspected that was not her real name. She was obviously too intelligent to use her real name when writing a complete stranger on the Internet for the first time, although I believed from the beginning that her first name was indeed Sharon. From the start our email conversation was fascinating, and over time we developed a close, trusting friendship. Her story is so interesting and erotic (at least to me) that I have decided to share it with you. I have done some editing, to remove non-essential details and identifying information (I promised to maintain her anonymity), however the bulk of what you are about to read has been copied directly from my email folders, misspellings and all. I will be posting them up in one or two week batches depending on size. I hope you enjoy our exchanges as much as I did
Sep 09/24/08 8:04 AM
This message contains feedback for:
This feedback was sent by: firstname.lastname@example.org
Just wanted to write and tell you that I really enjoyed your story. Like you, I have been reading erotic fiction since I was a teenager and stole my brother’s dirty books. Story sites like “Literotica” are a Godsend for me because now I don’t have to sneak around to sleezy bookstores to get my erotic fiction fix. Hey, it’s a lot tougher for a woman!
All to often the stories posted are simple male masturbation fantasies with little substance. Your story was pleasantly different. The story plot seemed a tad bit iffy but other then that, the characters were well defined and and the action was very believable. I liked the idea that you described the characters as normal people. That brings it home for the real people reading it. For me, the “stop reading” sign goes up when I read early on about exagerated body parts. (the woman with the 44EEE or the guy with the 12 incher) You didn’t do that and it made the story much more enjoyable. I also enjoyed the fact that you didn’t dwell on the actual sex acts. It was enough to know what happened without being forced to read about the woman screaming for more or the men making obscene remarks. Thanks for sparing me that.
It was the topic of a woman being coerced into sex that got my attention and drew me into reading your story. When I was in my mid twenties, I allowed myself to be coerced into sex with the husband of my boss. It got completely out of hand and was a very bad time in my life. I’m 43 now and that is well behind me but I do have an understanding on how these things can happen in real life. I mention my own experience to inform you of how you walked that thin line between rape and consent. In my real life experience, I wasn’t forced into anything. I consented to the sex with the full knowledge that I could walk away at any time. Still, I went along with it because, at the time, I felt it would have been a greater sacrafice to not go along and do what was asked. I gave myself freely only because I valued material posessions more then my body and even my integrity. I had that trapped feeling and saw sex as my only way out. In the same situation now, I would walk away but then again, I’m a little smarter now. My story with that would probably make a good addition to your chronicle series, if there is to be one.
In your story, the woman was not forced physically but coerced into a bad situation. I have a certain empathy with that. She also enjoyed the sex but felt guilty afterward. I’m still ashamed to admit it but I often enjoyed the sex. Like your character, I may not have wanted it but found it impossible to resist the pleasurable feelings I experienced. Then I felt horrible because I did enjoy it. A person may not want to be tickled but the body reacts the same whether they wanted it or not. It is no different with sex. I didn’t feel that I was cheating on my husband because I did it because I was coerced. I did feel that I was cheating because I enjoyed it. The bottom line is that in your story, you hit a lot of the right feelings that would have been experienced if it were true.
Typically, I might scan through the subject lines of 50 or more stories before deciding on one to actually read. Quite often I’m dissapointed. With your story, I wasn’t. It was well written, believable, and had a subject I was familiar with. The only real surprise for me was that it was your first story. Most writers are incapible of achieving that kind of sincerety with the reader on their first attempt. Keep writing!!
Sep 09/24/08 7:36 PM
Thank you for the kind praise; I’m glad you enjoyed my story. I was a little surprised that you used your real email account, I hope you know that Literotica feedback can be done anonymously. Actually I’m glad that you did provide me your email, because I would like to ask if you could help me fine tune my female characters to help make them more realistic. I don’t have problems writing about men, but I’m not always sure how women would react in different situations. Would you be willing to edit my stories before I post them?
I look forward to hearing from you again.
Sep 09/24/08 8:27 PM
Thank you for responding. My feedback to you on your story was not meant to be anonymous.
Everything I told you was true and I am impressed with your writing ability. Something I did fail to mention was that your writing certainly must have an appeal for men but it also appealed to women. That is rather unique in the field of erotic literature. I think most writers fail to realize that there are quite a few of us girls who enjoy reading it too. I hinted at that but never really came out and said it. Now I did.
I would be happy to help you fine tune the female perspective and offer suggestions from the feminine point of view. As for editing, I may have some suggestions on what might fit better or be worded differently but I don’t feel that I am qualified to actually edit. I lack the imagination to write fiction and only have my personal experiences to rely on. As an example, I could have never made up the story you wrote. I could write about my own personal experience on the subject but it would lack the depth and character development you are able to create. My story might be accurate and detailed but probably wouldn’t make for good reading. Your words create images in the mind and that is essential to good writing.
The bottom line is that I would be happy to help you in any way I can with your stories. I feel honored that you even asked. As for corresponding on other subjects, I’m also open to that. I’ll be looking forward to hearing from you.
Sep 09/25/08 9:42 PM
Thank you for writing back and for the praise. When I started these stories I never really thought about the possibility that someone out there reading them may have had similar experiences. This was just stuff I was making up for my own entertainment. Now I’m confronted by that reality and it is sobering.
I will gladly take any help and advice that you have to give. If you have any story ideas, I will consider them as well. I have already posted up part two of my story and am in the process of cleaning up part 3. I have attached a copy of it for your review; let me know what you think.
Sep 09/29/08 10:45 AM
I first went to Literotica to read part two and then downloaded the file to read part three. I’m very impressed with the way you are developing the story. I like the way it is building in intensity and the characters seem so real. After reading those three parts, I feel like I know them. From what I have read so far, it seems to me that you are getting better with with each new account. I wouldn’t add, subtract, or change a thing.
I was first thinking when I read part 3 that all 3 parts could be stand alone stories with just a little tweaking. Then after I thought about it I realized that it was fine just the way it was. I know that If I were to read part 3 first, I would want to go back and read the first two parts to see how this all came about. However, depending on how many chapters you are planning to add, you may want to put in at some point a small reminder of how it all started. You could easily accomplish that by having the couple briefly recall how they got into that mess. Right now I don’t think it is needed but several chapters down the road. it might be helpful to the reader.
Now, as a women who went through an experience that in many ways is similar to the one you are describing, I can tell you that so far you have really nailed it. For the man, it is as much about the humiliation as it is the sex. I found that the sex was enough in the beginning but as things progressed, the guy I was involved with, seemed to always be looking for greater stimulation. He was always wanting to take chances to add to his excitement.
Part 3 brought back some graphic memories for me. It is almost like you are Alec and know everything that happened with me. I know there is no way you could but some of the things you described could have been loosely taken from my journal. (Yes, I kept a daily journal) To begin with you tell the story about Sherry being good with her feet. I used to tease guys I dated with my feet under the table. Usually it was just rubbing their leg with my foot but there were times when my foot moved all of the way up. The guy I was involved with liked that a lot. He always made sure he sat directly across from me at meeting for that reason. One time while my husband and I were having dinner with him and his wife (my boss) at a restaurant, he coerced me to plant my foot against his erection and rub him. That is also a small example of him taking chances.
You mentioned about going to a strip club, He also took me to a strip club, twice. I didn’t have to do anything in there but it was very humiliating. You also talked about giving a hand job in the strip club. My hand was nearly always pulled into his lap when we were at bars. Sometimes it was at a table or booth and sometimes even while sitting at the bar. Several of those times involved my hand inside his zipper and a few other times with him completely out of his pants. Of course I had to do the extricating. Once while we were at a dance club with his brother and another girl who was a fellow employee, he had me take it out of his pants. That wasn’t too bad because like the strip club you described, it was dark. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he told the other two that I was “jacking him off” under the table. They both had to look which further embarrassed me. I didn’t have to blow him there even though he wanted it in the worst way but I did have to do it afterward in the back seat of the car while his brother and the girl watched. That was humiliating enough.
This guy also like flashing me in front of other people. He really loved doing that. Literally hundreds of people got glimpses of me either nude or partially naked while we traveled in his car. Yes, it included several teenagers. Once he had me open my blouse and completely expose one breast. I was driving and he had me go through a fast food drive thru. The teen taking the money got an eyeful and seemed to take his time with our order. One of the worst cases of exposure occurred when there were a half a dozen roofers working on the building next to our office. He stripped me stark naked in front of the window of his office and made sure they all got a good look at me before he closed his drapes. What made it even more humiliating was that he took his time doing it. Those same roofers also got to witness me give him a blow job the next day.
Another thing you brought up that really hit home was when you mentioned how Sherry thought of herself as another person when she did things. That is so true. I had to tell myself that it wasn’t me doing those things or I would have lost my sanity. I even had a name for her and that was Lola. She was the dark side of me that did those terrible things. By shifting everything to this other girl, I could distance myself from the reality of what was actually going on. Lola would do anything and I could still be the real me and pretend none of that was happening to me. If I didn’t create that other persona, I wouldn’t have been able to face my husband or even look in the mirror. You really hit it with that.
I could go on and on but that is enough for now. If you have any questions or need my opinion, just ask.
Sep 09/29/08 07:18 PM
Your experiences with your boss is both shocking and intriguing. I can’t deny that I have a prurient interest in hearing more about them, but I also think that it could help me in writing my stories. I think you are so brave, telling a complete stranger these very embarrassing parts of your life.
If it’s OK, I’d like to ask a few questions, please don’t take offense or feel like you have to answer them. Please feel free to decline.
What was it like at the strip club, were you aroused by it?
How about when he exposed you to other people?
What do you feel about those experiences, looking back on it now?
Oct 10/01/08 5:07 AM
I’m glad that you are intrigued by my experiences. I do mean that. What you may not understand is that those experiences don’t really lend themselves to everyday conversations. Generally, I’m way too ashamed and embarrassed to talk about them with even my best friends. Who would really understand? Everyone I know would certainly label me as a slut and want nothing more to do with me without even trying to understand the trap I was in.
I have pretty much held that time of my life inside of me all of this time. Then after reading your story, it all came back. Yes, I’m still ashamed and embarrassed about it I will be for the rest of my life. Everyone has a skeleton in their closet but I got a whole wardrobe of them from that time of my life.
I’ve never been able to tell anyone about that until now. How could I ever face someone knowing that they knew the things I did? I couldn’t!! Paul, you have given me a unique opportunity to actually discuss those events without having to suffer the associated embarrassment. No, I won’t say I’m completely comfortable talking about it, I never will be. The thing I do realize is that discussing it with you via e-mail has given me a form of release. Because you are writing on the subject and seem to have a certain understanding, there is a certain comfort level telling you about my experiences. I may never find another that I can openly tell these things to. Because of that I welcome the opportunity to finally open my closet of skeletons.
What I have told you is less then 1% of what actually happened with me but even with that small amount, I feel a certain sense of relief that I was able to tell someone that wasn’t judging me. As embarrassing and difficult as it is for me, I still have felt the urge to tell you more or even all of my experience. Paul, the reason I haven’t told you more then I have is because I was afraid you may not be interested. Because of that I have tried to keep my personal experiences to only what related directly to your story.
When I saw that you did have some questions about what happened with me, I was both excited and nervous. I was excited by your interest and the fact that I could tell more. I was nervous about actually telling more of that situation. Still, I’m glad you asked the questions you did and I will answer them as best I can. You do not offend me with your questions. I welcome them. You may think that I am brave to tell these things to a relative stranger but I assure you that is not the case. Since telling a friend or associate is out of the question, this is really the cowards way out. I’m just glad you have given me the opportunity to get what I have told you.
Before I answer you questions, I think it is important to put my answers in the right context. I was at that time a young, (mid twenties) naive, girl who felt helpless and trapped in a situation that only grew worse. It was a vortex that only drew me in deeper and deeper. Like a Chinese finger puzzle, the harder I struggled to free myself, the tighter the trap became. Looking back now with 20/20 vision, I can see that I only needed to face the situation to free myself from it. At the time, I was both unable and unwilling to do that. Instead of looking at the overall picture and what was happening, I tended to take things day to day. That extended the situation but it also maintained the status quo in my life and that was what I wanted. Except for the things I did and the times I was with this guy, the rest of my life was normal. To face the situation would have would have destroyed that normalcy. There was my trap. I either had to give up my dignity or my normal life. It was either let him humiliate me sexually or face a more public humiliation with my husband, friends, coworkers, and associates. I chose the sexual humiliation as the lesser of the two evils.
I also want to mention that this guy was not my boss. He was the husband of my boss. His name was Jay, and her name was Lee. Lee owned and operated the company. I was essentially her business manager and second in command. Jay was a construction worker who gave up working when the money started coming in from his wife’s business. If he did anything there, it was acting as the company goffer. One of my jobs was to provide him with menial tasks to keep him busy. He had an office and a position as company manager but didn’t really do anything. Before things started with us, he spent most of his time flirting with me and a few of the other girls in the office.
The first strip club visit was humiliating to me because I was there and not because of anything that happened there. I am not now nor have I ever been the type of women who would go to a place like that. Jay told me that I had more class then any other woman he had ever known then he set about stripping me of it to bring me down to the level he was. He had no class at all. I was heels, business suits, and dress slacks. He was jeans and a t-skirt. He was country and farm, and I was city.
Jay took me to the strip club to humiliate me and he succeeded. I can not even to this day describe the embarrassment I felt By taking me in there he was labeling me as a whore, not just any whore but HIS whore. I did not feel any sense of arousal at all. I only felt shame and humiliation. He did say I was prettier then any of the girls stripping as if that would make me feel better. There were other times when I will admit that I felt arousal but that certainly wasn’t one of them. To be put in context with everything else that happened, It really was a minor thing. Much greater humiliations were yet to come.
The exposure thing was something completely different. There were times when it was somewhat arousing. The time I told you about when we drove through the drive thru with my breast exposed was arousing for me. In fact I have often had thoughts of doing it again on my own but never had the nerve. The majority of the flashing we did do in the car were was a turn on for me. I often enjoyed doing it. Sure it was embarrassing but embarrassing in a way that was arousing for me. The humiliation there did add to my arousal.
The other thing I told you about was when he stripped me in front of a group of workers on a nearby roof. That was much worse then anything that ever happened in a car. In the car, I mostly had my clothes on and had the opportunity cover up. It had a more “accidental” atmosphere and I knew I would never see the onlookers again. With the roofers, it was different. Jay knew some of them and was essentially showing off. That made it much more humiliating because he was also demonstrating his complete power over me. The other thing was that he stripped me completely and even had me pose completely nude in front of the window while he laughed about how much his buddies were enjoying the show. I do have to admit that it was in a way stimulating. In my opinion, humiliation can turn into arousal if there is no threat. With observers in another car and the roofers on another building, they posed no threat to me. In it’s on way, it was kind of exciting and that excitement did lead to arousal.
I did not expect to kill two times within twenty four hours.
The evening before, I had just finished a job in Los Angeles. An easy one. The target was lured to a restaurant in Chinatown. I was the waitress.
When I took his order, he placed his hand on my butt. I took a deep breath and wrote down what he wanted. This was his last meal, so I made sure I did not make a mistake.
Our client sat next to him. After dinner, the client repeatedly poured more Tsingtao beer in his glass. Beer meant his bladder filled up quickly. When he went to the bathroom, I followed with a gun.
His fountain of urine bounced off the wall when the first bullet sliced through his neck. He turned around, the yellow stream continued to escape his body.
I squeezed the trigger again. The second bullet drilled through his chest. He toppled to the ground, his eyes bulging, not believing he had been ambushed by a woman. The ultimate insult.
I unscrewed the silencer and wiped clean the gun with my restaurant uniform. The blood flowed from both sides of his body, soaking the uneven bathroom floor. It would soon flow under the door and out to the restaurant. I hurried to the last stall, put down the lid of the toilet seat, and climbed out the tiny high window.
Don’s car was on the other side. He drove as I stripped off my uniform in the backseat. The Toyota Corolla kept a steady pace on Interstate 10. I was ready to party, so I put on a halter dress, tying the straps at the back of my neck. The little black dress was backless, so it was impossible to wear a bra.
Don, my business partner of five years, was formally dressed in a three piece suit, complete with bow tie.
“You looked like a waiter.” I crawled between the seats so I could ride shotgun.
“And you look drop dead gorgeous.” He enjoyed teasing. I never did. I believe a professional distance was healthy. Besides, he was twenty years older, old enough to be my dad. In fact, he was dad’s partner until dad passed away.
“I wish all jobs were that simple.”
“If they are all like that, our clients won’t pay us handsomely, right?”
Don had a point. Our jobs were mostly very risky types. Over the years, we had some really close calls. I had been shot twice. The scars on my stomach and thigh were constant reminders.
Interstate 10 quickly became Interstate 15. We pulled over to a gas station just outside Barstow. I dumped the blood-soaked uniform while Don shoved the gasoline gun into the small hole at the back of the Corolla, half the gun sticking out. Somehow, it felt right to deposit the bloody dress in California, before crossing the state line.
When we crossed into Nevada, we both screamed at the top of our lungs for having survived yet another job.
We drove on to the Las Vegas strip, but did not stop to gamble. The thrill of gambling with money could not excite us. After all, we had just gambled with our lives.
Instead, we went strip club hopping on Industrial Road. We were equal opportunity customers, checking out both male and female strippers.
“I’ll bet $200 your whore does not dare to take the stage.” A man, visibly drunk, shouted at Don.
Don played it cool. “You’ll have to wager directly with her.”
He repeated his dare, this time in my face.
“Show me the $1,000 and I’ll consider.” I pulled down my dress to show more cleavage.
“Here,” he removed his wallet and counted out ten bills. Don used his cell phone to check that they were hundreds.
When the song ended, I climbed the two steps to the round stage. Holding the pole, I struck a pose. A dozen men or so moved closer.
“This man is betting a grand that she does not dare to strip.” Don was loud enough so that the men around the stage could all hear. Nobody offered to raise the stakes.
The thumping music came on. I wowed the audience by inverting myself, gripping the pole by my ankles, my hands on the floor, the dress floating around my chest, my thong undies visible. When I stood upright again, stacks of twenties appeared. I sauntered around the stage, taking my time to let them slide it into my g-string.
For the second song, I untied the knot behind my neck, letting the dress drop to my waist. The catcalls were deafening, almost as loud as the music. More twenties, and even a hundred. Las Vegas was a rich town.
I let my dress drop completely to the floor on the third song. This was not a nude club, just topless. I pranced around in my thong, crawling on the stage, pretending to be a tigress.
By the time the song ended, the entire club was standing three deep around me. Don held my hand and helped me off the stage. We were up at least fifteen hundred.
We decided we had celebrated enough.
“Can we switch cars?” Don asked when we were almost at his house. “I have to meet a new client tomorrow.” For some strange reason, new clients had a tendency to trust only assassins with luxury cars.
I hesitated for several seconds. “Sure,” I said as we pulled into a gated community on a golf course in Boulder City, just outside Las Vegas.
“Thanks. I’ll see you soon.” He leaned over to kiss my cheek. He had never done that before, This was strange.
It’s not a big deal, I thought to myself as I merged with the traffic on Interstate 40, heading east. The morning sun was suddenly in my eyes. I reached down to the glove compartment and pulled out a greasy pair of oversized sunglasses. Don really had bad taste.
When the traffic thinned, I spotted a silver Buick of some sort in my rear mirror. I sped up, and then slowed down, the Buick followed. God, who drove a Buick anymore? Didn’t General Motors stop making them ugly cars? Or was that the Hummer?
I floored the pedal to pass an eighteen wheeler, shooting the needle to ninety. The Buick effortlessly kept pace. It was only a foot away. I resisted the urge to slam the breaks. The Corolla was not match for any car, even the Buick.
I blinked and tried to concentrate. The dotted lines dividing the lanes blurred and merged into a single continuous line. The needle was at one hundred, as fast as the Corolla could go.
Chancing a glance to the right, I fished out my cell phone from my purse. Pressing just one button, the ring tone went on and on. God damn it, Don. What the hell were you doing? Rubbing your own dick or sticking the middle finger up your own asshole?
Finally, after what seemed like an hour, his lazy voice came on.
“Hello honey, what can I do you for?”
“Cut it out, Don.”
“Ashley, what’s wrong?”
“There’s a guy on my tail. What to do?”
“Step on the gas and lose him. Don’t worry about the cops. I have many friends in Nevada.”
“I’m in Arizona. And I’m stuck in your stupid Corolla. You took my BMW, remember?”
“Hang on,” he said.
I heard the whirling fan inside his laptop computer.
“Where are you now?” he asked.
“Exit 157 on I-40″
“Get out at Exit 161. There’s a single gas station off the ramp. There should be nobody except the store clerk at this hour. FM him.”
“Understood.” FM was our code for a flanking maneuver.
I kept going as fast as I could. At the last minute, I slammed on the brakes, tires skidding and screeching, the burning smell of rubber filling the air, the car narrowly missing the concrete wall.
He braked, but had missed the exit ramp. He stopped and reversed furiously. I had only a few seconds.
I parked the car directly in front of the mini-supermarket and grabbed my purse. I pushed the glass door hard, the bell on top of the door clanging. The clerk was astounded. I held my index finger to my lips to signal silence. His face was white. He could not speak.
The man parked next to the Corolla, in the blue handicapped lot. The bell clanged again. He was in the store, his gun drawn, his eyes narrowing. The clerk was nowhere to be seen. Smart clerk.
The small supermarket had only three rows. The man systematically checked out each one, crouching and keeping his body low. The front row had all the snacks. He quickly reached the end and turned around to the next aisle.
One side of the middle row was filled with toiletries and feminine hygiene products. The other side carried Pepsi, Sprite, Coke, Mountain Dew, Dr Pepper, and Fanta. Strangely, there were no diet sodas. It took him barely a minute to complete the first two rows. There was only the back row left.
On the back row were alcoholic beverages, mostly beers, kept cold inside giant refrigerators. He got down on one knee next to the alumimium siding. Peeking with one eye, he saw that nobody was on the last row. She must be hiding in the bathroom, he thought.
I knew he was coming, the fluorescent lights casting his shadows in all directions. I was starting to shiver, my bare back touching the icy cold beer cans.
I saw a shadow creeping from left to right. I stopped breathing, both hands holding the glock, my right index finger on the trigger, legs shoulder length apart, aiming slightly upwards.
First, his gun was visible, then the arms, and lastly the sideview of his face. I squeezed the trigger gently. The glass shattered, a thousand fragments flying outwards. The bullet went in through his jaw and went out through his temple.
I stepped out, tiptoed around the broken glass, and checked his pulse. He was dead.
In the Corolla, I put my purse in the glove compartment, locked the doors, and turned the ignition key. I wanted to get the hell out of there as quickly as I can.
The cold barrel of a gun was on my neck.
“Put your hands behind the seat.”
Plastic cuffs secured my wrists behind me. I stole a glance at the rear mirror. The man behind was wearing a spiderman mask and a leather jacket. When he saw me looking, he placed a hood over my head so I was blinded. I had to concentrate to breathe through the tight leather hood.
I was dragged by the elbows out of the car. He slammed my body faced down on the hood, kicking apart my legs at the same time. After a quick search, he removed my panties, shoved them into my mouth, and sealed it by duck tape.
Finally, I was thrown into total darkness in the trunk.
To be continued in Ch 2, where there will be nonconsensual sex.
Note: The Week is a 13 Chapter, 150 page, novella-length, wife-sharing story. I feel obligated to suggest you will not fully understand the storyline or the contents of individual chapters unless you start at the beginning. In any case, I hope you enjoy the story. Feverman. Copyright 2011, 2012 Chad Sanders, all rights reserved.
Chapter 4 – Day 2, Uneasy feelings
Lee and I made a sandwich of Sarah and we slept together. Sarah was first out of bed the next morning. After her shower, she slipped into a very short silk robe and started breakfast for us. While Lee showered, I put on a pair of shorts and talked to Sarah. She prepared our food with me stealing glances of her ass cheeks or breasts when she bent over even a little.
“How are you feeling about what we did last night, sweetheart?” I inquired.
“It was so much better than I imagined, not that I had imagined many good things beforehand,” she said. “Lee was the perfect man for me to do it with. He is so nice to me and oh my god, Ryan, he is such a wonderful lover. Can you believe he gave me that necklace? I am so happy you picked Lee for this…” Sarah rattled on and on.
Excitement and joy radiated from her body language, facial expressions and voice. She didn’t seem to notice the silk material sliding off her breast and putting them on display for me as she used her hands and arms to add emphasis to her excited monolog. It was as if she had taken a happy pill and snorted a line of speed to top it off. I asked about something that happened during the night and she went off again talking a mile a minute about how wonderful the night had been and how good Lee had been as she gave me an inadvertent, little peep-show in the process.
I know that I should have been just as joyously happy as she was, and on one level I was. The events of the night before were more thrilling than anything I had ever experienced, and I went deeper into the wonderful, lustful feeling of sexual nirvana than with any sexual experience I had ever had. But, that was only the upside. The downside was that I also felt jealousy and a little hurt, or disappointed, or something along those lines at the realization I alone hadn’t been able to take my wife to such a high place of sexual satisfaction as Lee had. I knew Lee had just done his part, and as Sarah had said, he was a perfect gentleman and a perfect sexual partner for her, but somehow I felt a bit upstaged. I had doubts about the wisdom of sharing Sarah with him and I suddenly wished this thing we were now deeply into could have been only a one night fling. I wished for the impossible, that we could have time alone together to adjust to the powerful emotional experience, time to let our feelings and emotions settle down, just the two of us.
However, my present reality was far different than my wishes at the moment. It was obvious listening to Sarah that she had a much different vision of our short-term future. Her expectations were for more of the same. I had every reason to believe Sarah was ready for a full week of Lee, and me of course, but the promise of more of the wonderful, passionate interaction with her new lover was clearly in the forefront of her mind.
Sarah was still rattling on when Lee came in fully dressed for work to join us. “Talking about me?” he asked with a cheerful voice. She had been, of course.
She gave him a warm smile, and enthusiastically greeted Lee by saying, “Yes, you fantastic lover. I was.” She walked straight over and kissed him with like he was me. I hadn’t even gotten a good-morning peck on the cheek.
Lee and I took seats at the dining table. Sarah served us breakfast and then joined us. She was still wound up and she enthusiastically went back over the events of her wonderful evening with us, sharing all the same details I had just listened to her excitedly proclaim a few minutes earlier. So, when I finished eating, I told them, “Time for me to shower. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
As I was about to enter the hallway, I couldn’t help but add, “No fooling around when I am out of the room.” As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn’t. I didn’t want either of them to know how jealous, or insecure, or both I felt at the moment, not even jokingly.
Sarah’s answer was not what I expected and it was certainly not the response I wanted. She looked at me with no sign of understanding or sympathy, and told me, “I will if I feel like it. You don’t always have to be in the room, Ryan.”
“Just kidding, honey,” I said and walked on down the hallway.
I wasn’t only kidding, even though I had said what I did in a way that could be viewed as joking. I didn’t like her response at all. I didn’t like what she said to me and I didn’t like the way she said it.
I stayed under the shower longer than usual letting the hot water soothe me. I thought about, and questioned, what I had done to our marriage with this threesome thing. I wondered if we would, or even could be, the same ever again. I even considered a number of ways to put an end to the activities immediately, but decided I wasn’t ready to do anything so drastic, not at that point anyway. I wanted to, but I knew it would be almost impossible to end things this quickly without causing relationship problems with both of them.
When I came into the dining area Lee and Sarah were sitting at the table drinking coffee and talking. He was rubbing her foot and telling her about some things Denise had liked him to do for her. Her skimpy, little robe was hanging casually open, exposing her otherwise naked body to Lee.
I asked, “Ready?”
Lee let go of Sarah’s foot gently, stood, and said, “Ready.”
Sarah didn’t bother to close her robe when she hugged and kissed Lee and then me. “Happy birthday, love. Have a great day. I hope you like my next present as much as the one last night,” she told me as we hugged.
I wanted to talk to Sarah about my unexpected feelings of jealousy and my unsettling worries, so I told her, “Call me later. I have a couple of things I want to discuss before tonight. Okay?”
“I will, birthday boy,” she promised and smiled, still radiating her joy.
It was obvious to me Sarah had no idea about my inner conflicts. Her innocent happiness caused me to doubt whether I should mention my personal turmoil to her. On the way to our office, Lee was so enthusiastic and pleased with his unexpected reception from Sarah and me, he didn’t give me much of a chance to tell him about my feelings, especially the uncomfortable ones.
We arrived at the office and began working without my saying anything that revealed my inner struggles. The logic of the main control program of the robot had been worked pretty tight the previous day. What we had to do then was add detail and exception instructions for the various activities the robot was designed to do. This part of the process was best done with the chip designer and the end-user present, so we spent the day with my client. The three of us worked through the logic of what to do when the numerous sensors reported back errors or other conditions, and I noted the actions the client recommended and wrote the required logic. Lee was there to proof my logic diagrams and make sure the recommended actions were realistic and doable. By three-thirty p.m. we were done with the client. I finished my logic diagrams and notes, and we headed home just before four p.m. As my mental focus shifted from work to personal matters, I suddenly remembered Sarah hadn’t called. So, I called her.
“Hi, honey,” she answered, and immediately and enthusiastically asked, “Ready to see me do even more for you tonight?”
“Probably so,” I told her, “But, you were supposed to call me today. Remember?”
“Oh my goodness, I was so busy with your birthday preparations I forgot, but we can talk now. What’s on your mind?” she explained.
“Nothing that important or urgent… we can talk when I get home,” I told her. I didn’t want to say what I had to share with Sarah in front of Lee, so I changed the subject and informed her, “We took off early and are on our way home as you requested. What are we doing tonight?”
“We are going out as soon as you can get ready. The rest is a surprise,” she told me. I could tell she was barely containing her excitement.
“Okay, great,” I told her and added, “I love you more than you will ever know.”
“Not as much as I love you,” she said and sent me some kisses through the phone.
Neither Lee nor I had said a word about the previous night after our morning commute and we had worked though lunch with my client. Actually we ordered sandwiches from a local shop and had them delivered. I thought it time to break the ice about my feeling and eased into it by asking, “Did you enjoy Sarah as much as it looked like you did?”
“Probably more,” Lee said, “She is so perfect it makes me envy you, Ryan. I have never been with a woman so hot, affectionate and responsive. She ate me alive and I loved every second I shared with her.”
“She certainly seemed to enjoy you, Lee,” I told him.
Lee replied, “I know. That really surprised me. Like I started to tell you last night, I have been in some threesomes and other multi-partner situations with Denise, but being with your wife last night was way better than any of those experiences. In the heat of it all, I almost blurted out that I loved her, Ryan, because I truly felt a deep sense of sincere affection for Sarah. I got lost in her more than once.”
“Is that going to be a problem for you?” I asked.
“No. I don’t think so. It is just that I miss my wife so much and having Sarah be so loving and wonderful to me somehow bypassed my emotional defenses. I gave her all the passion in me, and amazingly, I felt the same from her. I remember you telling her to let go and show me the real her, but I didn’t really expect it, not like that,” Lee shared.
I know Lee meant well, but I didn’t find a bit of comfort in his words. I considered the wisdom of sharing my true feelings with Lee briefly and then decided to push forward. I told him, “I was never as turned on as I was watching the two of you make love, but I also had some unexpected negative emotions, jealousy, fear of losing her, and other uncomfortable feelings at times. It was a strange mixture of conflicting desires and emotions. I know Sarah loves me with all her heart and she was doing exactly what I asked. But, those things also made it difficult for me to stop the action or even slow things down some like I really wanted to do on a few occasions. There were moments when I felt like the water suddenly got too deep for me, Lee, like I was in over my head.”
“Wow, Ryan, I didn’t see that coming. You looked calm and in total control of your feelings all night,” Lee stated, and continued, “but, I know exactly how you feel. I have been there too.”
Lee was still engrossed in deep, reflective thought when I looked at him again a few moments later. Finally I asked, “How so, Lee?”
“Oh, sorry,” he said and explained. “It was with Denise. There was never a reason to tell you this, but Denise had an abnormality. Her vagina was large, much larger than any other woman I have been with. You may have noticed that I have a pretty large tool. Denise was not a virgin by any means when we met, but I was the first man to satisfy her. Even with my size, she was capable of taking on men much larger than me. She had her first vaginal climax with me and it rocked her world. She worshiped me from that day on. Somewhere along the way, I developed, or discovered this recurring fantasy to watch her with other men, and eventually I talked her into it. She was very reluctant and refused my requests for months. I finally arranged for two studs with dicks that make mine look small to party with us one night. I got her drunk enough to agree to fuck them for me. She went animalistic on me and fucked both of them until they couldn’t get hard another time. A few days later, she came to me and said we needed to talk. I knew from her expression it wasn’t going to be good. She simply explained that she needed more of them or other men equally endowed from time to time, that they had satisfied her in a way nothing else ever had. I was crushed, Ryan, humiliated, sick with regret and I felt like a total fool.”
“How did you handle it?” I asked.
Lee explained, “To make a long story short, we worked out a deal to let her play with a lover with a huge dick on a regular basis, but with some specific details of our arrangement, or rules if you prefer. Basically we agreed she would never do anything behind my back. I had to be informed ahead of time and be with her whenever she did anything with another man. She tried a number of relationships with her enjoying a lover once a month or so, but for various reasons none of them worked out well over the long haul. One or the other of them always wound up wanting more from the relationship than the other could give. When the last one of them stood her up on their regular date night, we decided to try something more practical. We joined a couple of swingers’ clubs, and truthfully, that was the best solution we found. Denise met a number of very well-endowed male friends at the clubs and we always went on nights when one of them was going to be there. I could either watch Denise having sex, or I could go find someone to play with. Mostly I watched her and her lover, or lovers, and enjoyed doing so. Well, I enjoyed it most of the time anyway.”
“Wow, I had no idea,” I commented.
“It was not exactly the type of thing I could share with you, not until something allowed us to break out of the formality of our business relationship and become more personal with each other, something like the events last night,” Lee said.
We were pulling up to the house and I wanted to talk more. My head was full of questions. However, under the circumstances, I had to settle for a quick request. “Remember me telling you about my jealous feelings?” I asked Lee.
“Yes, Ryan, sure I do,” he replied.
“Do what you can to help me out with them, Lee. I know Sarah will want to spend a lot of time with you while you are here and we need to work out a signal for you to send her back to me for some relief from the stress I may feel at times,” I told him.
“Sure; absolutely,” Lee agreed, “Just signal me when Sarah isn’t looking and I will push her back your way.”
“I appreciate it, friend. This is all so new to us and having you here for a week is wonderful, but I haven’t had time for my mind to adjust to the unexpected negative feelings that pop up at times. Like you said, you have been there too and you know,” I shared.
“No problem. I do understand and I will be sensitive to what I know you are going through. But, Ryan, you need to understand that feeling some jealousy is perfectly normal. It is simply part of the package. My only advice to you would be to share what I was once told. My mentor of sorts advised me to accept and learn to enjoy my jealous feelings, to use those types of feelings to fuel my sexual pleasure. I know it sounds contradictory and it wasn’t always easy for me either. It took awhile, but it really helped me when I learned to master my jealous feelings, to let them excite me and add to my arousal. You’re going to be fine,” Lee told me and patted me on the shoulder, reassuring me.
Chapter 5 – My Birthday Present
My mind was awash with thoughts when we walked into the house to meet Sarah. She was sitting in the great room talking with a very attractive and well-dressed, young, blonde woman I didn’t know. Both women wore business suits which struck me as a bit odd. I assumed the woman was a saleswoman and they were negotiating some sort of transaction.
“Hi, honey. Happy birthday!” she said as she jumped up to hug and kiss me.
Sarah put a kiss to remember on me. Her aggressive behavior and her sensual kiss got me rock hard. She pressed her soft lips to mine, teased me with her tongue and subtly ground her body against my rapidly-growing dick. It went on for so long I finally stopped her and reminded Sarah we had company. “Want to introduce us to you friend?” I asked.
“Oh, sure,” Sarah said, “This is Cat, short for Cathy. She is your date tonight!”
“What?” I heard myself say in disbelief.
“I hired her to be you date tonight and to do anything you want, and I mean anything,” she told me. Sarah turned to Cat and asked, “Right, Cat?”
“That’s right, Ryan. Your loving wife got you the full “sex slave” package. Until two a.m. tomorrow morning, I am your willing servant to use as you please. Just in case you are wondering, I don’t have any STDs. I only work a couple of nights a month and it is almost always with a repeat client. You are my first new client in a long time.” Cat explained.
“Interesting, “I commented and added, “And, will you really do whatever I tell you to do?”
“Yes, I will,” Cat said, giving me a submissive, sultry and very willing look as she did.
“Wow,” I expressed my surprise. I thought for a second and a wonderful thought popped into my mind. I told her, “Cat, I want you to take our guest, Lee, to the guest bedroom and make him feel special for a little while.”
Sarah started to protest, but I cut her off after, “Wait a minute…” I told her, “It is my birthday and she is my sex slave. I want her to spend some time with Lee first.”
“But, she was for you, so you wouldn’t be alone… I was going to do more with Lee for you to watch,” Sarah said, explaining her reason for hiring Cat.
I responded, “I can see your plan clearly and it was wonderful of you to set this up for me, honey. It is the most caring and thoughtful gift I can remember, but I want to be alone with you for a little while. We have all night to do the other things you have planned, don’t we?”
Before Sarah could answer, I turned to Cat and asked, “Are you okay with that, Cat?”
“Sure,” Cat told me. She turned to Sarah and said, “You told me there might be some partner swapping, remember?”
I liked Cat already. Not only was she drop-dead gorgeous, she was a straight shooter.
Sarah stubbornly tried again, “But…”
“Whose birthday is it?” I cut her off before she could argue more.
“Okay, fine,” she begrudgingly consented. “Fine,” meaning, “Not fine at all, but I guess I will go along with this even though I don’t like it one freaking, little bit.”
“Lee, would you prefer some privacy here or in one of the bedrooms?” I pointedly asked.
“I’ll take Cat to the guest bedroom,” he said, and asked, “How long should we stay?”
“At least twenty minutes,” I told him.
Sarah didn’t look the least bit happy as they left the room. As soon and Lee and Cat were gone she told me so. “You’re screwing up my birthday present to you,” she chided me with a look of total frustration written on her face.
“A little maybe, but like I said, we have all night. If you had called me today like you said you would, maybe I wouldn’t have had to send her off with Lee to get a moment to talk with my wife about something that is bothering me. I’ll get to my problem in a minute, but I want to know something first. Is your anger due to your being jealous about Cat being with Lee?”
My question caught Sarah off guard. I could see a flush of embarrassment spread across her face.
“Oh my god, is it that obvious?” she replied.
I answered her and launched into what I wanted to talk to her about, “Yes, and jealousy and possessiveness are exactly the things I wanted to talk to you about. You really hurt my feelings this morning when I said something about doing things with Lee when I was out of the room. You essentially told me you would do whatever you wanted with Lee whether or not I was present. Not only that, I had a much harder time last night watching you with Lee than I ever thought I would. I had bouts of jealousy, penis envy and all kinds of insecure feeling along the way. It was still the biggest turn on of my life, but it was far from being just a simple pleasure for me to observe you enjoying sex with him. That is what I wanted to talk to you about before we got started tonight, and that was the reason I asked you to call me.”
“Oh my god, honey, I had no idea. I am so sorry. I guess I got caught up in Lee’s visit, the unexpected pleasure of the things we did… oh, and with making the final arrangements for your birthday, you know, with Cat and the things we have planned for you,” she explained.
Sarah thought for a second and asked, “What do we need to do to work this out? What do we do now?”
“I don’t think we need to change what you have planned, but I need you to do some things for me,” I told her and waited for her to respond. I wanted to gage her willingness to cooperate. I wanted to see her mentally return to me, to the mental state of being my faithful wife. Actually, what I wanted was to hear her say she was willing to set aside her plans to run wild another night with Lee because she loved me, not him.
“Like what?” she simply asked.
“First of all, like agreeing that you are my loyal wife and that you want to please me too, even while you are having a wonderful time with our mutual friend,” I heard myself say to her.
Sarah could be stubborn when challenged, but I saw her let go of her pride and switch from defensive to caring and agreeable. “Okay, honey. I do want to please you most of all. I am sorry I got so carried away, but didn’t you tell me to give everything I had to Lee, to let go completely and show him the woman that made you so proud?”
“Yes, I did, and you did that beautifully. Don’t misunderstand. I am very proud of you. One of the things I have to learn to manage as we live out this week is to deal with my jealousy and the insecurities that surfaced watching you with Lee. He has a good bit of experience with threesome and other types of group sex with Denise. I’m sure he will tell you all about them if you want to know more, but watching him bring you to so many obviously wonderful orgasms, has me feeling a bit inadequate, as if I was not quite as good a lover as he is. I just need for you to be aware of that and keep me feeling connected and loved while you enjoy Lee.”
“Do you mean back off some and not let myself go so completely?” she asked.
“No, I don’t mean that, not at all. I want you to get everything you can from the experience. I just want to feel that you still love me with all your heart while you do it. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, I think I understand what you are going through. I guess I just got a little taste of it when you sent Cat off with Lee. I mean she is young, beautiful, and has much more sexual experience than me. She is a professional at making men feel good no matter what they want or expect from her. How am I supposed to compete with that? Getting her for you didn’t make me feel that same jealousy, because I am so secure with your love. I know Cat is just a one night fling with a paid pro for you, but letting her loose with my new lover caused some unexpected jealous feeling to flare up in me. Like you just described, I have this fear of being totally upstaged. She could make me seem like a pathetic second best, a total amateur,” she shared.
I told her, “Thank you, Sarah, for understanding and being so honest. There is no way Lee will feel more attracted to Cat than to you. Trust me on that. Lee is crazy about you, the whole you, not just your sexual abilities. He wouldn’t choose Cat over you on a thousand dollar bet. I want you and Lee to fully enjoy each other. I just needed to let you understand that while this sharing arrangement is a truly welcomed sexual pleasure for me, it has its downside too. I’d like for you to help me minimize that downside. Now that we have that behind us, let’s get on with having a great birthday celebration. What do you say?”
“Absolutely,” she agreed. Sarah grinned at me as she unzipped my pants and pulled them down. She was giving me a very satisfying blow job when we heard Lee and Cat returning. Sarah didn’t stop until they were seated in the room, watching us.
“More of this later,” she told me after she pulled her mouth off my dick. She kissed the head one last time and announced, “We have some other things planned we need to do now.”
Sarah looked at a note by the kitchen phone and dialed the number on it. “Hi again, this is Sarah. We’re ready,” is all she said.
“So, Lee, how was your quickie?” Sarah asked when she returned to the room.
“Wonderful,” Lee said without any explanation of what they did, much to Sarah’s distress.
Her curiosity had her dying to know and she outright asked Lee, “What did you do?”
“The same thing you and Ryan did,” Lee told her.
“How much of your monster cock could she swallow?” Sarah boldly and unexpectedly asked.
Before he could answer, a knock came at the door. “I’ll get that,” I told them.
“Not as much as you did last night,” Lee told her. I later learned he had lied. I appreciated that he was sensitive to Sarah’s jealous feelings and was more concerned with my wife’s mental wellbeing than being totally honest. He later told me Cat had sucked him like no woman ever, that she buried her nose in his pubic hair with every bit of his dick in her mouth and shoved down her throat, and that she sucked him off in record time. “It was just wonderful beyond words,” he told me the next day as we talked over the night. By then I knew from personal experience he was not exaggerating about Cat’s talents.
I opened the door to find a uniformed limo driver. On the drive to the VIP Gold Club, I got my first feel of Cat’s talented mouth on my cock. By the time we reached the club, I had come in her mouth too, and she had swallowed every drop of my cum. I loved the wonderful feeling of Cat sucking my cock while I watched Lee passionately making out with Sarah and using his skilled fingers to bring her to orgasm. When Sarah began to hit the familiar, high-pitched notes with her moans and squeals of pleasure, Cat took me over the top. Oh damn, that was a big one! I was dizzy for a short while in the aftermath of that powerful climax it was so mind-blowing good.
Inside the club, Cat led us to a private room that overlooked the main stage where the strippers performed. She gave me a hot kiss on my mouth and said, “Be back in a few.” Sarah made us drinks. I noticed she seemed very familiar with the location of the liquor cabinet and where the glasses and ice were stored. By the time Sarah served us, Cat came back in wearing a red baby-doll and matching panty. Sarah excused herself to change.
Cat did a strip show for us and it was awesome. Watching her dance, I got a good feel for how athletic and limber she was. She stripped and made a wonderful show of it. Cat contorted her body for us in the most provocative ways. He erotic poses were seductively suggestive of many highly-unusual positions to fuck her in, positions in which most women couldn’t offer themselves to a man even with months of practice. It was damned impressive and very inviting! Once she had finished her wild, wonderful, contortionist show and was naked, she assisted in stripping me first and then Lee.
“Showtime,” Cat announced when we were both fully naked. I fully expected Sarah to come back in and do a similar striptease for us, but that was not what was on their agenda. Cat knelt between us and took a dick in each hand. “Watch the girls,” she told us as she slowly stroked our cocks.
A lovely redhead with a small patch of matching red pussy hair finished her routine and either the smoking-hot redhead or Cat’s soft hand stroking my dick got me rock hard again. She definitely knew how to handle a dick, but in another instant mine went soft anyway. The next dancer to perform on the main stage was my wife.
“Holy shit!” I blurted out when Sarah appeared. She marched around the stage wearing a full leather garter, fishnet hose and a leather mini skirt. She carried a short horse-whip which she expertly cracked several times to get the attention of the many men watching her.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Did you know about this?” I asked Lee.
“No,” Lee said.
I noticed her presence on stage had the opposite effect on Lee. He was rock hard watching Sarah parade around dressed and behaving as she was.
Sarah stopped at the end of the stage with her feet spread wide apart so the men directly in front and below her could look up her skirt. She seductively pulled up her skirt to give the men a peek at her naked, shaved pussy. Sarah spun around and bent over. She then pulled up her leather skirt enough give the same men a different view of the bottom of her beautiful ass cheeks and pussy. She moved around the stage and did the same routine for the men sitting along both side wings. Before her first song ended, Sarah had the top of the full-bodied garter peeled down off her tits and had fully show them to everyone present. She disappeared into the back as the music died.
“Wow, I am speechless!” I commented. Cat just grinned knowingly at me and I noticed by then my dick was throbbing hard again.
The music resumed and my loving, once-reserved, wife came back onto the stage completely naked. She did a respectable although not world-class dance performance. Sarah made up for her lack of professional, nude-dancing experience by being very personal to the men in the front rows. She rolled across the stage, stopped and spread her pussy open for each of the men that were anywhere close enough to share eye contact with her. Watching her visually interact with the men in the club was the most erotic part to me. She teased them with her eyes and smiles as she opened up and let them enjoy seeing her most private body parts in a very inviting way. She was both proud and graceful. She looked as good as any pro picking up her tips and thanking her tippers, making eye contact, smiling warmly at them and repeatedly saying, “Thank you,” as she shared a final second of visual interaction with her appreciative admirers.
A moment after she walked off the stage to a hearty applause, she burst into our VIP room and flung two handfuls of money at me. “Happy birthday, honey,” she excitedly told me, relieved to be done with her show and as proud as she could be of herself.
“That was amazing and so professional looking. I can’t believe you did that for me,” I told her, knowing she was dying to hear me say something really positive.
“It truly was,” Lee added.
“Perfect,” Cat said.
Sarah crawled onto the sofa and straddled me. “Now, honey, you get to do what all those men out there wanted to do with me,” she told me with wild arousal in her voice. “You get first shot at my burning-hot pussy, love.”
I assumed by “first shot” she was referring to Lee later on, but I wasn’t completely sure she didn’t mean more than just Lee. Her bizarre new behavior had me confused and I wasn’t at that moment the least bit sure what the limits of her wildness would be. I didn’t have much time to consider it either. Sarah hungrily guided by dick to her wet, slick pussy and dropped her wonderfully-hot, aroused body down on me. She rolled her hips into me and fucked me with a motion that seemed completely new and different.
“New move? I like!” I whispered to her.
“Got a couple more too, honey. Cat gave me some tips,” she whispered back to me and she fucked me.
I held Sarah, fucked and kissed her as she did the same to me and worked herself into orgasmic bliss. “Oh god, I love you so much, Ryan,” she told me as she wet me down with her warm cum.
“I love you even more,” I told her, and added, “Thank you for a wonderful birthday present. It is certainly the most unusual one ever, and the best one!”
“We have dinner reservations, so we ladies better get ready,” Sarah told me as she eased up off my dick. She added, “I would like to fuck you this way all night long, but we do have dinner and dancing to do. I promise to help us find this moment again before the night is over.”
“Sure, I understand,” I told her.
I hadn’t noticed, but when I looked up, Lee was massaging Cat’s beautiful, naked body and both of them were watching us. “You are such an amazing and beautiful couple,” Lee said, and Cat agreed by saying, “You really are.”
The ladies went into another room to dress. After we put on our clothes, Lee and I watched the stage shows until they returned. My eyes got wide with the sight of them. Sarah wore the skimpiest dress I had ever seen on her. It looked like a black slip with tassels around the bottom hem and neckline. It reminded me of those short, frilly, flapper dresses women wore back in the twenties. It was almost too obvious that she had nothing on under it. Actually, she did have on a tiny thong panty, but I didn’t think so at first. I only got a glimpse of the tiny transparent thing when she took her seat in the limo and flashed me. As she sat with Lee, her dress rode up and I could see all her legs, the top of her lacy, thigh-high hose and some of her bare butt-cheek. It was all so shockingly different and exciting to watch the sexual animal in Sarah come to life, seeing her well-kept exhibitionist secrets come out into the open. Her behavior seemed totally foreign to me, as if a new and different woman had possessed her body for the second night in a row. There was an exciting, new., sexual temptress on the loose inside her. The new Sarah looked smoking hot, sexy and bold, and she didn’t seem to mind showing off her beautiful body in public one bit.
Lee could hardly wipe the smile off his face during dinner. He also liked Sarah’s new look and attitude. As we ate, Cat entertained us with stories about her profession and some of her client’s fetishes, a few of them on the extreme side. One was a doctor client who just wanted her to lift up her dress, pull down her panties and pee on him. Another one, a corporate CEO, liked to dress up in women’s clothes and get butt-fucked by her using a strap on while having her tell him things like, “Take it up the ass, you nasty bitch.” Some of the stories were funny and some almost depressing. Mostly, it just amazed me, and it seemed it did Sarah and Lee also, the very specific things some men needed to do or see to get turned on sexually.
It lightened all our moods considerably that Cat took her sexual service to men with a grain of salt, telling us about her professional life with joyful smiles and laughter all the while. Her attitude was well-grounded, solid and lacked any signs of guilt or reservation. None of the bizarre things her clients wanted her to do seemed to bother Cat in the least. She did mention that about a third of her evenings with men didn’t even involve sex. She was simply a date, a beautiful woman to accompany them and be their lady for a few hours at some event.
Cat kind of summed up her attitude toward her profession with one statement, “I need to pee a couple times day anyway, so getting paid five hundred to pee on my physician friend now and then is a really nice bonus.” Her mention of money did make me wonder how much Sarah was paying Cat for the full “sex slave” evening. I quickly convinced myself I didn’t want to know.
I was never sure if Sarah told her to do it to keep me occupied, but for most of the rest of the evening, Cat was stuck to me like glue. We went to a dance club and Cat did everything but fuck me on the dance floor. Every time I tried to spy on my wife and Lee, Cat would yank my attention back to her. She had a seemingly endless number of ways to do so, such as kissing me, moving my hand to some intimate place on her body, touching me in very personal ways, taking me to a remote part of the dance floor away from Sarah, or just turning my head and saying, “Pay attention to your date, hon.”
I did manage to steal enough peeks to see Sarah was again really turned on by Lee and the special attention she was getting from him. Her face was flushed with sexual arousal and she had that heated glow about her every time I got a good look at her. Likewise, Lee looked very happy, elated I would say to have Sarah totally to himself so much of our time at the club. I only felt a couple of mild pangs of jealousy and they passed quickly because Cat kept me both focused on her and very aroused with her playful, sexy ways, not the least of which was the show she put on for me dancing. She was truly an amazing dancer. She knew exactly how to keep me entertained by her provocative dance moves and the amount of flesh she flashed at me.
I wondered where in the world Sarah had come up with such a high-class hooker and made a mental note to ask her later. When I did get around to asking, “A friend of a friend of a friend,” is all I got for an answer. I knew by that response it was fruitless to press the issue further.
As if midnight was a planned time for the next phase of the evening, the ladies made a trip to the powder room. When Sarah and Cat returned, they led us out of the club to the limo to return to our place. Sarah crawled over me and kissed me with loving heated passion. When our second passionate kissed ended, she whispered to me, “Would you like to pull my panty off for Lee and feel how wet and excited the two of you have me?”
“You bet,” I told her. I slipped the tiny little thing down to her knees and felt her wet, slick pussy before pushing two fingers inside her. “Oh god yes, I need you, honey,” Sarah told me, loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Do you want to come for me before I send you back to your lover?” I teased her.
“Yes, I do,” she told me in a very serious tone.
Sarah kissed me as I raked her G-spot with my fingertips and rubbed her clit with my thumb. It only took a minute for her to start humping my hand and only another few moments until she soaked my hand with her warm, slick cum.
“Oh god, I love you so much,” she told me as she quivered and humped my fingers.
When Sarah’s climax died back, she kissed me again, but slower and more tenderly than before. She made a show of letting her fingers slowly leave mine and looked at me with loving eyes as she pulled away to go to Lee. “Your birthday is over and I am doing this for both of us now, not just for you, you know?” she confessed as she sat back on the long bench seat on the other side of the limo.
“Okay, but why tell me that?” I asked.
“To intensify your feelings and let you deal with your jealousy while you have Cat’s support,” Sarah explained.
Sarah looked over at Lee and said, “I am all yours again for a while, lover.”
As Lee moved toward her, Sarah lay back on the bench seat and pulled her panty on down from her knees and off. He helped her slip her skimpy little dress over her head and she tossed it over to where Lee had been sitting.
“What about the driver?” I asked.
“He is my regular driver and is very discrete,” Cat told me. “He fully expected us to make love in his limo while he chauffeured us around. He’s fine with whatever we do back here.”
When Lee crawled over my wife to fuck her, Cat slipped her dress off too and began undressing me. It only took a few seconds for her to have my pants down and she straddled me. Her pussy felt hot and absolutely wonderful sliding down around my throbbing hard-on.
I heard Sarah say, “Oh god, yes, Lee. Fill me with that big hard cock,” but Cat was kissing and fucking me in such a way I couldn’t look.
She read my mind. “Just imagine what you wife is feeling while I make love to you,” she told me and added, “You don’t need to watch.”
I did imagine it. I thought of Sarah getting fucked by Lee’s big dick as Cat fucked me. I imagined that big, thick shaft stretching her blood-filled pussy lips and filling her insides. I imagined her body jerking as the big head rammed into the end of her pussy. As Sarah’s moaning increased in intensity and we all knew she was about to burst into orgasm, Cat made me come in her. She tightened her pussy around my cock and began fucking with heightened intensity, as if she was coming on my cock.
I didn’t know if it was an act or not until she said, “I’m coming too, Ryan,” and I felt the warm wetness flowing though my pubic hair. It was too much for me and I grabbed her tight, little ass-cheeks, squeezed and pulled them apart in a fit of passion as I repeatedly rammed my cock into her delightful, gripping pussy. I fucked her hard and fast, even faster and harder once my cum coated the inside of her pussy and reduced the friction.