My Wife or a Whore 1 - Sex Stories

My Wife or a Whore 1

... seat cover was leather so the puddle did not soak into it and would not leave a stain. By the time we finished eating, she had had two orgasms.

After the table had been cleared and we had our coffee, Nancy laid her head on my shoulder, and I put my arm around her. "You catch on quickly," she said softly. I realized I had played right into her hands...well, right into her pussy. "I hadn't planned on cumming, but I won't complain. Are you ready for the next phase?"

"Let me guess. It's a surprise," I said.

"Kinda. I want to go dance."

We hadn't gone out to dance for six months. "Okay, I'm game. I suppose you have a place picked out."

She nodded her head, then kissed me gently on my lips and neck. We paid the bill and went outside to our car. I opened the passenger door for her to get in, but she went around to the driver's seat. What the heck. I could let her be the chauffeur on my birthday. Besides, I didn't know where we were going. She buckled her seat belt, started the car, and drove off.

Soon we were in a rather seedy part of town. Brightly lit bar signs and adult bookstores lined both sides of the street. Nancy parked the car and started to get out. I grabbed her arm. "What are we doing here?" I asked totally confused. "You said you wanted to take us dancing."

"I said I want to go dance," she corrected me. "This is where we are going."

"But this is a strip joint!"

"Your powers of observation never fail to amaze me." She opened the door, got out, ...

... walked around to my side of the car, and opened the door. I just sat there openmouthed. "Do I have to go in alone?" I got out, and she led me to the bar's door. I dimly noticed a sign just inside that said something about amateurs. I didn't get a chance to read it thoroughly. A skimpily clad woman led us to a single seat next to the stage. I looked around for a second chair but couldn't find one. Nancy gave me a quick kiss. "You sit here, and I'll see you later." She dashed away before I could say anything. Still dumbfounded, I sat down.

"Can I get you a drink?" the waitress asked.

"Ah...scotch, please," I mumbled.

"Soda? Straight? Rocks?"

"Rocks, please," I said numbly. I needed something strong to clear my head. She returned quickly with my drink.

A mostly naked woman was dancing on the stage. Her only garments were her shoes and a thong panty. As I took my first sip of my drink, she slipped the thong down to her ankles revealing a tiny G-string. She kicked the thong to the rear of the stage and strutted from one side to the other. Several men were standing holding up dollar bills. She knelt before one who slipped his dollar under the waist band of her G-string. She worked from one side of the stage to the other collecting ones and fives. When she had gotten all the money waved at her, she did a few high kicks and some splits until the song she was dancing to ended.

"Let's hear it for Gina!" the emcee bellowed on the loudspeakers. "And now, gentlemen, put ...