Private Dance

She nervously looks at my face, as if I’m going to decide her fate. Behind the obvious drunken haze covering her eyes, I can see a flickering flame of burning desire. An evil, wicked, devil-like sparkle dances around in her eyes as she seeks my lead. Reaching into my pocket, I fetch a pair of twenties and hand them to the brunette. I whisper into her ear, “treat her real good.” Rachel flashes a devilish, knowing smile, grabs my wife by the hand and drags her to the back of the club. The two disappear into the blackness as I focus on the entertainer on stage.

Even though the dancer was beautiful and alluring, my mind wanders to the possibility of what is going on behind closed doors, in the back of the club. Meanwhile, the DJ is still calling out for amateur dancers to participate. Much to my surprise, three additional beauties appeared out of nowhere, in addition to the one I had spotted earlier. All four had signed up and taken a number. I signal to the DJ, to add my wife to the list. I figure a little practice couldn’t hurt before her big performance tomorrow night.

Three songs had passed since she went into the back room. The two, still had not emerged from the blackness. My mind begins reeling from the possibilities, envisioning the two ladies entwined in a naked, loving embrace. The fourth song had since passed, and they still have not come out.

The competition has begun. The first contestant, made a quick, non-erotic strip of her blouse and skirt, dancing around in a skimpy thong and lace bra. She danced and danced, never taking any more off, too embarrassed to do so. The second contestant climbed on stage. I now spot my wife emerging from the back, dragging Rachel behind her! They both have smiles stretching from ear to ear as they near my table.

We all miss the second performance, too enraptured with secretive glances and smiles at each other. My wife sits down, after giving Rachel a big wet kiss, openly swapping saliva as their tongues wrap around each other. I begin to ask her about what went on, and am silenced by her finger pointing to the stage. The third performer had stripped down to her g-string and bra. Her over-sized melons, threatened to pop the tiny clasp holding them in place. A quick twirl later, and her bra went flying to the back of the stage, to the cheers of the crowd gathered around.

I looked at my wife. “Your turn!” I grab her hand, raise her to her feet, and help her climb the stage.