Strip Club

I leave my slut-wife at home, knowing that she is dying to play with her new toys, but knowing that she won’t. I threatened her with even more severe consequences if she touched the packaged toys. I keep calling her throughout my day at work, tormenting her, not letting her know what our plans are for the night. She is also kept on edge as I constantly remind her of the party scheduled for tomorrow night. Her performance is set for less than forty-eight hours from now, and the anticipation is building.

I sneak out of work early and arrive home to find my wife fucking herself silly with her fingers buried deep in her twat. She climaxes as soon as she sees me in the doorway, the surprise igniting the tremors in her body. I calmly ignore her and tell her to quickly get dressed. We head out the door together and drive away, ending up at a small watering hole. We don’t have much to eat, but I keep her glass filled at all times.

She likes the way the Captain and Coke goes down smoothly. It doesn’t take long before she has had a few too many. Several more drinks later, I knew I had her where I wanted her. Again, I drag her out into the midnight air and toss her into the car, speeding to our next destination.

When we pull up to the brightly neon-lit building, she coos at the thought of going dancing. She is obviously too drunk to notice the neon signs that indicated it was a “Gentleman’s Club.” She doesn’t even notice the big pink flashing neon light that reads “Go-Go Dancers.” Paying the bouncer at the door, I drag her inside the dark, smoke-filled hall filled with loud blaring music, thumping to a definite grinding beat.

Rounding the corner, I quickly grab a table and take the seats near the stage. The DJ announces the next dancer, and it is at this point that my wife realizes where she is. Before she has a chance to say anything I fill her hands with another Captain and Coke. She silently sips at her drink as her eyes watch the lithe young dancer prance around the small stage. She stares in amazement as the nubile form twirls on the shining brass pole, and then animatedly humps it as if it were a giant stiff cock. By the time the girl strips naked, my wife is slurping from the bottom of her cup. I instruct our topless waitress to keep her glass filled, and slip a twenty in her black skirt.

As each dancer dances, my wife finishes another drink. She doesn’t pay any attention to the girls that are working the floor, until one approaches our table and garners her gaze. At that very instant, the DJ announces that it is “Amateur Night”, and that any females in the audience are invited to come to the DJ booth and take a number. I quickly scan the room and see that there is only one other “amateur” in the building. Her boyfriend is amusingly trying to convince her to go on stage. As all this is happening the buxom brunette asks my wife if she would like a private dance.