The phone on my desk was ringing. Typical day, I thought,
fielding another question from my boss. I was pleasantly surprised
when I heard my wife's voice.
"What are doing now, lover?" she
"Well I was facing another day at office
until you called. What's up?"
"I thought I would let you have some
entertainment tonight. Care to meet me at The Club tonight?"
I sat up in my chair. I knew what club she was referring to,
a strip club.
The Club was located on a highway just off
the interstate. We passed it several times on our way home
whenever we took the highway. I had often teased her about
taking her there sometime and she often told me she would
go. I never took her up on her challenge though.
"What's gotten into you today, you horny
little girl?" I asked her.
"Come to the club tonight and see. I'll
be there at 5:30. Don't be late, lover, because I would hate
to think what would happen if I were all alone in a strip
club," she teased. "The rules are you can only bring
fifty dollars with you and you have to leave your credit cards
in the car. I'm not going to pay for this little adventure
of yours for the six months."
And then, the line went dead. I looked at
the clock on my desk and realized I had another hour before
I could get out of the office and on the road.
I got out of the office on time and I drove
to the strip club. My mind was running crazy, thinking of
being in a strip club with my wife watching both me and the
other dancers. I made it to the club before her deadline,
but her car was already in the parking lot. I took out the
credit cards and all but fifty dollars from my wallet. Everything
else I put in the glove compartment.
As soon as I stepped into the club, I was
braced for a ten on the cover charge. Forty bucks left. Between
the overpriced drinks and girls hawking for tips, I'd be lucky
to get a lap dance. Better yet, I thought, maybe I'll get
a lap dance for my wife. That would be hot.
I stepped into the club. The crowd was thin,
but work was just releasing. More guys would be heading in
before heading home to whatever was waiting there for them.
Onstage, there was a skinny brunette writhing her body to
the music. She was already naked, except for her high heels,
and I recognized the song was almost over. Her set was finishing
up. I looked out into the darkened club for my wife. I thought
it wouldn't be hard to recognize her since she should be the
only woman with clothes on.
The song ended and the brunette bent over
at the waist to pick up her tips from the rail and stage floor.
In the process, she was flashing her ass and pussy one more
time, this time free. She blew a couple of quick kisses to
no one in particular and scampered off the stage, her high
heels clicking on the stage floor.
The crowd responded with catcalls, clapping,
and whistles. The lights dimmed in the club dimmed making
it hard to see the faces in the club. I was only looking for
one in particular but I could not find her yet. She was probably
in the bathroom. I decided to sit away from the stage at a
table to better see her in the crowd. A waitress came by and
I ordered a four-dollar domestic beer. I was going to run
out of money on my wife-imposed limit.
"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands
together for the hardest working tool girl in the trade,"
the DJ's voice boomed over the speakers. "Give it up
for Tyler." The DJ drew out the last syllable of her
name for effect.
The lights on the stage dimmed, then the music
kicked in. The DJ was not winning technical points with me.
He had the bass turned up too loud as most DJs do these days.
The lights turned on in a sudden flash causing me to squint.
From the dressing room and out onto the dance stage "Tool-Time
Capping her head was a yellow hard hat, hiding
her hair beneath it and casting a shadow on her face. Her
wife-beater t-shirt was cut to just beneath the swell of her
tits. The front of her t-shirt, split at the top, revealed
her ample cleavage. Her denim shorts, also modified, were
cut high on the hips and formed a thong going up the crack
of her ass. She wore work boots and white socks on her feet,
not the typical apparel of a dancer. A brown leather tool
belt encircled her hips. It was devoid of any tools but helped
complete the look.
She continued to strut to the end of the stage,
swaying her hips to the low thump of the bass. Every move
was accentuated. At each pole, she did a quick spin, making
brief eye contact with the customers sitting at the rail.
When she finally reached the end of stage, she grabbed the
hard hat from her head and tossed it back down the stage towards
the dressing room.
Her hair, glowing in the light, bobbed as
she shook her head and body to the beat of the music. She
reached back for the pole behind her and, wrapping one leg
around it, slowly spun around as she coiled her frame tightly
against the pole. Her eyes scanned out into the crowd. It
was only then did I realize I was watching at my wife on stage.
When her eyes locked into mine, she briefly
stopped and let a slight smile cross her face. It could not
have lasted more than a second, but to me it felt like a lifetime.
She resumed her role of entertaining the crowd.
She unwrapped herself from the pole and quickly
squatted. Her knees straddled the pole. My wife thrust her
left arm out. With her left-hand, she grabbed the pole, taking
deliberate time to slowly wrap each finger around it. That
was when I realized she was not wearing her wedding band.
With her hand still grasping the pole, my
wife leaned back and thrust her hips forward, gyrating against
the pole. Her other hand leisurely slid up the side of her
body. She playfully squeezed each nipple, making them stand
out from beneath her shirt. She then retreated her hand down
to pussy, slowly and deliberately rubbing herself on her hand
and the pole. Those hips that used to swivel for me were now
shaking for the masses.
A few guys had already draped folded bills
on the rail in front of them. Others were cheering my wife
on. I was silent, not sure what to do with myself. My hands
were trembling to the point where I could not hold onto my
beer bottle without it rattling against the table. I could
feel the heat emanating from my face; I was flush with embarrassment
and jealousy. But I was also hard.
I watched as my wife stood up and strutted
to the edge of the stage. She undid the clasp on the tool
belt and let it drop to the ground behind her. When she reached
the end of the stage, my wife leaned back on another pole,
thrusting her hips forward to the crowd. She reached up with
both hands and grabbed each side on the slit in her t-shirt.
Slowly, the cotton fabric ripped farther down the front. She
kept the two halves up covering her tits. She slowly spun
away from the pole and strutted around, making eye contact
with each guy sitting at the rail.
Some of the guys were shouting for her to
take it off. My mouth was dry; I don't think I could have
said a word. She finally looked back at me and smiled again.
I knew what was coming next.
The crowd cheered as my wife cast the t-shirt
aside. Her tits, once only seen by my eyes, were now on display
for everybody in the club. She dropped to her knees, wrapping
her arms around her torso beneath her full tits. She unwrapped
her arms and cupped her tits in each hand. My wife started
to rotate her hips as she raised her tits up and bent her
head down. She stuck out her tongue, slowly circling each
A young guy, probably in his twenties, stood
at the side rail and started to shout. He peeled singles out
of a money wad in his hand and scattered the money out on
the stage. My wife took notice of the young man. She crawled
on all fours to him, her head dropped down and ass raised
high in the air. The guy stopped his money dealing and watched
as my wife closed in on him. She grabbed his money hand with
her left hand, her wedding hand, and pulled it towards her
chest. The guy was in a dilemma. If he wanted to grab my wife's
tits, he would have to let go of all of his money.
I took a quick pull on my beer, nearly spilling
on myself, as I watched my wife pull his hand from her chest
towards her mouth. She stuck out her tongue and began to lick
his fingers on by one. The guy extended his middle finger
and she took it in her mouth, slowly sucking on it. The guy
looked like his knees were about buckle beneath him. I knew
how he felt. She stopped sucking on his finger and slid back
onto her ass. She undid the button on her jeans shimmied them
over her hips and down her legs. My wife extended her legs
to the young man, offering him the chance to pull the shorts
off. The guy grabbed for them and immediately brought them
to his face, inhaling.
Underneath the denim shorts, my wife was wearing
a white thong. For now, I held on to the notion that she would
at least keep one part of her body to herself. For me. I knew
better though. This was a full nude bar as the dancer before
her already proved.
Another guy got bolder. He was a blue-collar,
beer-drinking kind of guy. He was dressed in denim and flannel.
Clenched between his teeth was fiver. My wife once again cat
walked over to her latest victim. The guy smiled, still holding
the five in his teeth. When my wife reached him, she put her
hands on each side of his head and pulled him towards his
chest. She shook her shoulders, battering the guy's head between
her tits. Blue-Collar's buddies started to cheer and laugh.
My wife had an open-mouth smile on her face, her head turning
from side to side, showing all how much she was enjoying the
She let up on Blue-Collar's head. He still
had that damn bill between his teeth. My wife squeezed her
tits together and Blue-Collar placed the money in her cleavage.
Before he pulled away, I watched as he kissed her nipples.
I started to look for a bouncer. I had never
been in a club with such lax rules. Especially when it was
my wife on the stage. Both bouncers were at the door watching
the parking lot, probably for cops. Occasionally, one would
look over at the stage, laugh and tap his partner on the shoulder
to look at the stage.
My wife rolled on her hips to another guy
on the other side of the stage. She turned around and shook
her ass at the guy. She backed up, her ass hanging over the
rail, and grabbed the band on her g-string and pulled it taut
against her body. The guy folded his bill length-wise and
slid it between her spread ass cheeks. I watched for what
seemed like eternity until he finally pulled her g-string
from her ass and slid the bill beneath it. As a joke, he let
the g-string snap against her ass.
My wife sat on her ass on the floor and spread
her legs in front of the guy. She ran her hands on the inside
of her thighs and slowly leaned her back onto the stage. She
kept her legs straight up in the air and hooked the band on
her g-string. She slowly peeled it down her hips. When the
g-string was pulled down half way across her ass, she rolled
over onto her stomach. She pressed her tits against the floor
and slowly slid her knees to her chest. She reached over her
back and ran two fingers up the crack of her ass. Her other
hand slid beneath her body and started to play with her g-string
I couldn't keep my eyes of her. This was the
slutiest thing I had ever seen my wife do, and she was doing
it in front of a crowd of strangers, no less. I was torn between
jealousy and excitement.
I watched as my wife closed her knees together
and slowly slide the g-string down to her knees. My humiliation,
though known only to me, was complete. My married wife was
naked in front of a crowd of strangers. I wanted to close
my eyes but her naked image was burning in my brain.
I watched as she continued to dance onstage.
My wife was unstoppable. She spread her legs, ran her fingers
from her tits to her pussy. She ground her pussy against several
of the poles. She smiled as she slithered from guy to guy,
picking up money between her tits and ass cheeks.
Finally, her last song was over, though I
never heard the music change. I watched her bend over, like
the stripper before her and pick up the money off the floor.
This time, the catcalls were for her.
I watched as she slowly left the stage. At
each pole, she spun around for the crowd. I swear every time
she saw me, she had a different smile for me.
"Give it up for Tyler, guys," the
DJ's voice came over the speakers. "Tyler will be coming
back for some one-on-one contracting and if you tip her well,
boys, maybe she'll build something up on you."
Even the DJ, bad puns and all, added to my
Another dancer was on stage but I wasn't paying
attention to her. I was waiting to see where my wife was going
to come from. I was on my third beer by the time I saw her
come out from the back rooms. She had on a white bikini top
and her matching thong was back in place. Her construction
boots were replaced by white high heels. The heels looked
about five inches. She knew I hated it when she wore heels
that high because she stood taller than me and would look
down upon me.
I watched her make her rounds from table to
table. She would stop and chat with a few guys at the table.
My gut twisted every time I watched her straddle some guy's
knee, sometimes facing him, sometimes with her back to him
so she could see the others at the table. Sometimes she would
lean against the guy, shaking her ass on his leg. She would
get a tip for her attention, other times she would just smile
and go on to another table. But at each table she made sure
at least one guy got a feel of some part of her body. My beers
felt like acid in my stomach as I watched her display herself.
I looked for the waitress again, I needed
another drink. I finally made eye contact with one and nodded
at her for another beer. She nodded back and moved to the
bar. I watched her get my label and move to my table. I needed
this beer, like I needed the four before it. I was running
low on cash but I didn't care. I wasn't in the mood for a
lap dance any more.
"Are you feeling okay, fella?" the
waitress asked as she brought me my drink. "You look
a little flush." Before I could even respond a familiar
voice answered for me.
"He'll be okay, sweetie, if he just let's
me take care of him." The voice belonged to my wife.
"Don't forget to tip you cocktail waitress," my
wife told me. I looked down at my cash. I was down to my last
"Can you break this?" I asked the
waitress. She took my bill and handed me three fives and singles.
I gave her four back, considering I have been stiffing her
for tips all night. I waited for the waitress to get out of
earshot before I turned back to my wife.
"What are you doing here?" I spat
at my wife between my clenched teeth.
"I noticed you were paying more attention
to the waitress and not me. I was getting lonely," she
said in a baby tone, her lower lip pouting. "But if that's
the type of girl you are turned on by, I can leave you two
alone. I'm sure I can find something or someone to keep me
entertained…" and with that, she turned away from
I reached out, grabbed her by the arm and
spun her back to the table. In her high heels, she lost her
balance and braced herself against the table.
"That's not what I meant," I told
her. "What are you doing dancing in this club? Naked!
In front of all these guys?" In my angered state, I didn't
know if I was yelling over the music. By this time, my wife
was standing on her own two feet. She was still bent over
the table, her ass swaying to the music for anyone who cared
to watch. She propped her tits over her arm that was resting
on the table. I was still holding on to her other arm.
She traced her finger against my cheek. "Easy
does it, lover. No touching the dancers. House rules. Besides,
you wouldn't want the bouncers to have to escort you out,"
I relaxed my grip on her arm. She freed the arm herself and
waved over in the direction of the door, where I last saw
the bouncers. I slowly turned in the direction of her wave.
Both bouncers had moved away from the door, but now they were
standing still. Their arms were crossed over their barrel-chests,
eyes fixed on me. "I would hate to think what would happen
if I were all alone in a strip club," she said, repeating
her words from the afternoon phone call.
I looked at her again. My resolve was weakening.
She knew, just as I had learned, she was in control.
"To answer your question, lover, the
reason I am here is because this is what you wanted. You kept
on telling me you always wanted to take me to a strip club.
What's the matter, honey, aren't I enough for you?" Her
question went unanswered. "Seems to me, I am enough for
a few men here."
"Honey, please. Get your stuff and let's
get out of here. Please?" I pleaded with her.
"Sorry lover, but my shift lasts until
nine tonight. I have to be back on the stage in another forty
minutes. It's a shame that you don't have enough money to
have me keep you company. Lap dances here are twenty apiece,
house rules, you know." I looked at my pile of money.
I was down to my last sixteen dollars. The last four I needed
went to the cocktail waitress, right in front of my wife's
eyes. She played me like a pro.
"You have got to be kidding me. I have
to pay for attention from my wife to now? You're crazy if
you think I am going to pay you for anything." I could
feel my anger once again rising.
"Sorry, honey. It's a pay-to-play atmosphere
here, and I'm just playing by the rules. Besides, if I didn't
know you any better…," she slid her free hand below
table and grabbed the front of my trousers. "Just as
I thought, hard as a rock. I think someone here likes watching
his wife get all nasty in front of these men. Don't you?"
She pulled her hand back to the tabletop before anyone got
I could feel my face get flush again. "Your
cock doesn't lie, baby," she said to me. "Too bad
you don't have enough money for some of me. I bet I could
get you off just by giving you a lap dance tonight,"
her voice started to betray her excitement. "Is that
what you want, baby? You want your hot, little wife to feel
you up and make you cum?
I swallowed down another pull from my beer.
My wife rarely talked like this, and only when I prompted
"That's alright, darling, this is a strip
club. Watching is free here. If you move over to that table
in the corner, maybe you can watch what you will be missing,"
she continued. I looked at the table. It was in the back corner,
away from the stage, in a darkened corner. Furnishing the
corner was a couple of short couches. I looked up at her again.
I had to admit she was looking as sexy as I had ever seen
her. Though I was looking at her with new eyes now.
"Well lover, I have a living to make
and my time is precious. Don't I get a tip for all that time
I spent with you?" she pouted her lower lip at me. I
looked down at her canted hip as she pulled her g-string away
from her skin. I grabbed a five from my pile and slid it inside
her g-string. She smiled sweetly and leaned in towards me.
"I knew I could get you to pay me. I just knew it,"
and kissed me lightly on the cheek. I realized my wife had
just played me again.
She spun around on her high heels and sashayed
over to the men sitting at the tip rail. The first guy she
stopped at was the young guy. Like most young guys at a strip
club, he and his friends were caught up in the moment. They
barely paid any attention to my wife, instead focusing on
the latest girl onstage. After a while, she gave up and moved
farther down the rail.
Her next stop was Blue-Collared guy, as I
decided to name his. She laid one hand on his shoulder and
swung behind him. He turned his head to his shoulder and my
wife, from the opposite side, swung herself up an into his
lap. Blue-Collar smiled when he saw my wife in his lap. I
was reasonably assured that he didn't know the woman in his
lap was married to me.