Choices Ch. 01

The crowd in the Gentleman's club was almost as obnoxious as the thick acrid cloud of smoke that hung about the noisy room. My cheeks burned a painful awkward red from the torrent of emotions that waged war in my mind and heart. Regardless of my discomfort, I refused to give in to the desire to flee the club, head lowered with embarrassment. I couldn't believe my husband would bring me to such a place.

I'd been so excited from the moment he'd mentioned taking me out. Sitting there alone, as he sat glued to the stage drooling over half naked tiny women that I could never compare to, all I could feel was anger. That anger fueled a deep seated slowly building sense of self hatred and resentment for not being more attractive. I was so lost in my own self deprecating thoughts and fighting the urge to burst into tears, that I didn't even notice her slipping into my booth.

I started anxiously as she cleared her throat to draw my attention. Despite my usual lady like etiquette my mother had instilled in me, my jaw dropped. I was powerless to do much more than stare. The woman that had taken the liberty of joining me was magnificent.

Her sun kissed skin only accentuated her long strait shining black hair. The way her soft brown almond shaped eyes watched my reaction intently only served to stun me more. As her full heart shaped mouth curled into a soft amused smile, I found it painfully hard to breathe.

"I didn't mean to pull you from your thoughts," she started honestly, in a voice as soft and calming as warm summer breeze. "But I couldn't stand to watch you sitting here alone another second." She said seriously, as though the idea was far too tragic to contemplate.

"Let me guess, another wife?" I questioned, too nervous to come up with any thing more stimulating to say. The look of disappointment on her face told me very quickly that I'd said something wrong. Immediately I started mentally kicking myself.

"Something like that." she said with a slightly insecure half smile. She looked almost annoyed by the disruption of my husbands sudden appearance at the side of the table. He had in tow with him an overly petite blond.

Though I figured she had to be at least 18 to work there, her smooth though tired looking features made her look as though she belonged more in a middle school some where. Not taking her clothes off for a never ending parade of horny old men. It didn't take but a second of watching her shift restlessly from foot to foot, to realize the young girl was also a drug addict. My mental self mutilation, quickly turned to sympathy for the circumstances that lured such a young girl into her situation.

"I need to steal my wife away for a bit." he said smoothly, flashing my guest the same charming smile that got my attention two years earlier.

"For what?" I questioned, really not wanting to risk the sexy trespasser to turn her attention else where.

"We're going in the back room for a 'private' dance." he said firmly, leaving no room for argument from me. I felt an odd sense of foreboding, triggered by the way he said the word private. A small part of me, still to this day, wishes I'd stayed in the booth that night.

"I'm sorry." I frowned apologetically, confused by the forlorn shaking of her head as she watched me leaving. Her face was so full of regret that one would have thought I were being led to my execution.

The 'back room' turned out to be a fancy word for basically a small box that amounted to the size of an antique out house. If the wooden bench seat against the back wall of the tiny closet had a whole in the center, I would have sworn that that was precisely what it was. I watched with tight lipped apprehension as he took a seat in the middle of the bench, basically pushing me aside as usual. His eyes were glued, fixated on the young girl as her slim shapeless body began to sway with the rhythm of the slow sensual music.

The embarrassed heat that once again colored my cheeks took a back seat to the pure rage that followed as the girl dropped to her knees in front of my husband. For a split second only, I'd managed to convince myself that it was all apart of the dance. As I watched her and button and unzip his jeans with her teeth, I caught on too quickly what the meaning of the word 'private' was.

Though every ounce of me wanted to scream, kick, curse, stomp... hell any thing to display my displeasure, I couldn't. I knew all too well what such a display of emotion would lead to when my husband and I were alone later. Clenching my teeth so hard that I thought my jaw would break, I stood in stunned silence.

Her small hands quickly worked his already hard cock free of his plain white briefs. I forced the pounding of my heart to slow as she took him in her mouth and began bobbing her head up and down the length of him. I watched as his fingers entangled themselves in her long blond locks as they had in mine several times before. A sigh of satisfaction crossed my lips as her heard her low grunts of discomfort as he began forcing her faster up and down on his cock. Then I felt a deep sense of shame for my pleasure in knowing he was hurting her.

My fingers were curled into my palm painfully as he finally allowed the woman to pull away. She desperately began to gasp for the air she'd been denied as he essentially raped her mouth and throat. Before she could regulate her erratic breathing, he stood and spun her away from him, pushing her hard against the solid wooden wall. Her muffled moan of pleasure as he pushed her panties aside and entered her from behind almost sent me over the edge.

As he pounded thoughtlessly in and out of the tiny young woman, using her as roughly as one would a rag doll, he turned his cold blue eyes to me. He studied me as his hand slid around the dancers waist to slip between her trembling thighs. A cold cruel smile crossed his lips as he began to stroke her clitoris as he fucked her brutally.

I think he wanted me to react. To get angry, to cry, something. Though she feigned pleasure dutifully, he seemed less interested in his conquest than in hurting me. I was determined not to give him that satisfaction. I forced my best 'I don't give a damn' smile onto my face. To his annoyance, I watched with obvious bored disinterest as he performed.

As usual, he ended too quickly, leaving the young woman obviously dissatisfied. Which of course pleased me greatly. I looked on curiously as they righted their clothing. I couldn't help but frown when he handed the blond a fifty dollar bill. 'Okay, so she's not just a whore, she's a cheap one.' I thought quietly to myself feeling an even deeper sense of disappointment.

The air left my lungs completely as I walked out ahead of the two of them and my eyes were drawn to the stage. The woman, the knock out that had sat with me just moments earlier was on the stage, twisting and rolling her amazing body beautifully. I must have missed the slow peeling off of the clothing as she was already down to her red lace brazier and bikini cut panties. Despite myself, I found my feet leading me to the stage just as my husband caught my elbow roughly spinning me to face him.

I forced myself to drown out his insults and warnings of what was in store for me once we got home. I shook off the searing pain in my arm as he let me go and stomped off to the bar. I knew that I would pay for my attitude later. At the rate he'd been drinking I knew he'd be ready to work his frustration out on me soon. My mind could only seem to register her presence in the room.

Nervously, I crossed the room and set myself down at the edge of the stage. Her eyes found me through the row of onlookers almost immediately. For a moment I could have sworn I saw a glimmer of shame in her wide brown eyes as she seductively went to her hands and knees. I couldn't help but smile as she crawled across the stage to settle in front of me.

I melted as she leaned across the wooden bar that separated the patrons from the dancers, to press a warm soft kiss to my already blushing cheek. She ignored all of the men sitting at the stage, waving money at her and danced just for me. Her eyes rarely leaving mine as she rolled her full round hips, swaying hypnotically to the slow steady beat in the back ground.

To my surprise, I felt my womanhood beginning to quiver and pulse painfully as her hands started moving over her own smooth body sensually. As her palms cupped and fingers playfully squeezed her own firm round breasts, my hands ached to take their place. My own nipples tightened as her fingers stroked hers into hard little nubs begging to be kissed.

The thought stunned me. I was a married woman, even more I was strait. Who was I kidding? There was no denying my wet throbbing pussy. Casually, I crossed my legs, clenching my thighs tightly, hoping to alleviate at least some of the aching, as I watched the Goddess leave the stage.

Hesitantly, I returned to my booth. My husband had yet another young dancer to drool over sitting next to him, doing shots at the bar. I couldn't help the tiny twinge of hurt that crept into my heart as I watched him brush a long auburn curl from her cheek and lean in listening so intently to every word that spilled from her lips.

"You want to sit there letting him make you feel like an idiot all night?" I heard her voice before I saw her. I turned to see the amazing creature standing over me in a sheer black robe that tied at the waist. "Or, do you want to spend some time with me?" she asked crossing her arms as she bend leaning on her forearms on the edge of my table.

For a moment, I studied her eyes and lips. I can't honestly say that I was trying to convince myself to turn her down, because God knows that that was the farthest thing from my mind. Perhaps I was trying to give off the illusion of being torn. As she reached up and ran her ruby red freshly manicured nails lightly over the side of my neck, all I could manage was a dry throated wordless nod.

She took my hand and pulled me to my feet. Like a lost pup, I followed obediently as she led me into a room a good bit larger that the one I'd watched my husband fuck another woman in. That was however, the last thing on my mind as she pulled me into the room. None too gently, she grasped my hips and penned me between the wall and her firm body.

The feel of her breasts pressed so tightly against mine that I couldn't tell her breath from my own was wildly intoxicating. Instinctively, my palms cupped her cheeks and my lips sought hers. She opened to me, giving my tongue full permission to slowly explore the whiskey flavored recessed of her mouth. As our kiss deepened and her tongue began to dance wildly against mine, I found myself pushing my groin seekingly against her.

I moaned against her lips helplessly as her hands slipped from my hips to cup my ass possessively. Her hands began to need and massage the tight muscles, pulling me tighter against her. Knowingly, she spread my thighs with her own. Pressing her thigh tight against my soaked eager pussy, her hands encouraging me to grind against her leg. My need for pleasure far out weighed my embarrassment over like one of those annoying little dogs that run around humping everything in sight.

"I have to get you out of these clothes." she panted urgently against my lips as her hands left my hips and grasped the collar of my button up blouse. "I need to feel you." she whimpered in a voice so sincere and needy that I felt like the only woman in the world in that moment. As she unbuttoned my blouse, the slight tremble of her hands awed me.

My hands went to the tie at her waist, innocently tugging the slip knot free. I was easing the satin wrapper off her shoulders worshipfully, just as she pressed her lips to my throat. A cry of desire burst forward as I felt her teeth grazing my skin impatiently. Even the clumsy way she tugged my blouse off of my shoulders filled me with heat.

"I don't know your name." I pointed out, as her fingers hooked the straps of my black satin bra, to slip them gently off my shoulders.

"Hailey." she breathed, kissing and nipping a path down my neck to the top of my high firm breasts. "Hailey is my real name. Gypsy is my stage name. Please call me Hailey." She made her introduction in a raspy desire filled voice. "What's yours?" She asked, tearing her eyes away from my breasts to look into my eyes interestedly.

"Cara." I smiled, warmed by her attentive stare. Shyly, I pressed my lips to hers again. I was enamored by the feel of her soft lips moving against mine so sensuously. Giving into my naturally curious nature, my hands began to slowly explore the soft curves of her body. Committing every inch of her to memory.

My hands cupped her firm breasts through the soft fabric of her bikini top, in the same moment she dropped her lips to my shoulder. As I massaged her breasts curiously, allowing my thumbs to innocently stroke her tiny nipples into hard little peaks of desire, she licked and kissed my neglected skin, essentially throwing gasoline on an already voracious fire. I couldn't remember a time of every being so turned on in all my 21 years, and the soft moan that escaped from her lips as I pinched her nipples teasingly, promised that she was just getting warmed up.

Her kisses began to trail lower and lower down my chest until her lips finally rested on one of my aching solid nipples. Though my husband always complained about the rather large size of the little bundles of nerve endings, she hungrily sucked one between her lips. As her hand rolled and stroked and pinched the other one, her lips and teeth laved attention on the other. White hot bolts of lightened seemed to be moving from her tongue to my breasts then traveling slowly down my abdomen to the very core of my desire. I didn't know how much more I could take.

"Please Hailey..." I found myself whimpering as her hand slid down my back to start kneading the back of my thigh promisingly.

"Please what Cara?" She questioned feigning innocence. "Tell me what you want." she demanded breathlessly against my breast.

"I don't know." I said honestly, finding my brain in too big a state of disarray to form a coherent thought. "Just make it stop." I pleaded, on the verge of frustrated tears.

"Make this stop?" She questioned, raising her eyes to stare into my stunned face. Running her hand from my breast to rest between my slightly parted thighs, I immediately dug my nails into her shoulders. "You have to be a little quieter my little kitten." She giggled, amused by my reaction to her touch, as she slid her hands into my jeans to start stroking me leisurely through my soaked satin panties.

I began to arch hard back against the solid wall, as I experimentally pressed my aching need hard against her skilled hand. I heard her breath something endearing about my impatience, but as she pushed my panties aside and buried her fingers deep inside of me, my brain simply wouldn't focus on her voice. I was instead lost in the heat she was created as her fingers worked slowly in and out of me, her palm grinding teasingly against my clitoris. She had to press her lips tight to mine to muffle my lusty moans of passion as she worked pure magic on my apparently innocent body.

Her body pressed so tight against mine was the only thing that kept me from collapsing as I felt wave after wave of pleasure wash over me. It was the first time I'd ever had an orgasm that wasn't self induced. Even more, it was so much more intense than any I'd ever given myself. My entire body tensed and trembled in confusion as I felt as though I were suddenly light enough to float away freely.

"Breath kitten..." Hailey murmured against my kiss bruised lips. "I haven't even gotten to the fun stuff yet." she smiled, looking as though she were feeling pretty arrogant as she tugged her hand free of the waist band of my jeans.

As she slipped her soaked fingers between her lips and sucked my juices from her fingers. Once again my insides started to quiver. I'd never seen anything look sexier than her lips wrapped around her fingers. Her tongue wrapping around her fingers as though she'd never tasted anything as sweet. Until she leaned forward and pressed her tongue between my lips, asking how I tasted on her lips.

"Good." I sighed, as my breath finally started regulating a bit. "What's the fun stuff?" I questioned curiously.

"To find that out... You have to go out with me one night." she explained seriously.

"I'm married." I frowned, oddly started to feel the tug of a deep rooted sense of guilt over my behavior with the beautiful stranger.

"You're married to a piece of shit. That doesn't really count." she assured me, lightly brushing away the curls that had tugged lose from my pony tail holder and fallen onto my flush cheek.

"It does to me." I frowned, reaching for the purse I'd laid on the bench as we walked into the room. "Thank you for the attention. How much do I owe you?" I questioned, fishing my wallet from the leather bag.

"Just because I'm a dancer doesn't make me a hooker Cara." She said with a look of hurt and disappointment that for some reason seemed to pull violently at my heart strings. It was the first time I'd ever truly regretted being married. "Just because half the girls here are doesn't mean that I am." She snapped at me. That hurt quickly turning to indignation.

"Hailey, I didn't assume you were a prostitute because you work here. I just assumed that would be the only reason a woman as beautiful as you would want to... well you know." I sighed running my fingers through my hair, getting more and more annoyed with myself with each word that came out of my mouth. I just seemed to be making matters so much worse.

"The only reason a beautiful woman would want to... well you know... is because you're sexy. And she sees something in you that she really likes." Hailey explained with a far more patient smile. "Do you have a pen in there?" she asked pointing to my purse.

"Of course." I nodded digging out a ball point pen and handing her.

"Paper?" she questioned, accepting a scrap receipt I dug free of the clutter. "Here's my number. Call me when you realize that you deserve better." she breathed, leaning forward to kiss my forehead affectionately as she tucked the scrap of paper into my purse.

To be continued....