For Her Family Ch. 02

The woman began the same writhing of the other strippers, but her hands did not stay on her own body. Instead they roamed over Alex. Alex made no move to stop her and acted as her husband had, her hands reaching out to caress the woman's chest and ass whenever the opportunity was afforded. The stripper pressed her crotch in closer to Alex's face as she slipped the underwear out from her thighs. Alex ran her hands over the fishnets encasing the woman's legs and glanced flirtatiously over at her husband. Someplace inside her, a voice of sanity was screaming, but sanity had not been the way of Alex's life lately. The dance would become more graphic until the woman was grinding her way up Alex's thigh, pushing the skirt up, up and up. Mike was rubbing his erection through his trousers once again while he watched his wife and the stripper interact. As the dance ended, Alex was fighting to catch her breath, the stripper's knee pressed into her crotch for the last three minutes and the distinctive sensation of wet juices seeping onto her leg. The dancer gave Alex a small kiss on the lips before retreating. Alex reached to fetch her some money, but the woman was already gone.

As she sought to regain control of the now jumbled emotions of lust, jealousy, fear, dismay running rampant within her, Alex decided that it was time for the night to end. There was only one task left and it was just she and her husband's to fulfill. During the lull she searched the club until she spotted the sign for the private booths. She pulled a still erect Mike to his feet and drug him after her. She was as horny as he was and the liquor had made her ability to disguise emotions dulled.

Mike followed his wife like a willing puppy dog. Her ass looked more attractive than ever, despite already cumming once in the evening. He couldn't wait to find out what the surprisingly erotic new version of his wife had in store for him. In his arousal, he was oblivious to the small traces of mascara on her cheeks and the tense posture of her body.

The two retrieved the key to the booth which had been reserved for them by the blackmailer. Once again, Alex tugged her husband onward. The booths were a small five by eight, windowless room with a small padded seat for someone to sit on and mirrors on all of the walls. After she got inside the room, Alex spun on her husband, allowing her anger and lust and fear and desire to wash over and take control of her actions. She forcefully pushed him into the seat and took her place on the small raised platform in the booth. Momentarily she studied the foreign appearance that reflected her in the mirror before her dance began.

Her eyes drifted shut as she swayed to a calming beat inside of her mind. Alex allowed her hands to roam where they would and they found many things of interest on her body for them to touch. As she shifted her weight from side to side, her hands drifted up the edges of her skirt and then over her torso until the cupped her breasts in their palms. She slowly caressed them through the blouse and the bra, her hips beginning to emphasize the sexual need building within her. Of their own volition they began to pull one button free after another. Her tall curvaceous form spun before her husband, the blouse coming free from the skirt and slipping off of her shoulders. She turned back to him, her spin complete, and dropped the blouse to the floor. Alex's roaming hands once again found her breasts and began to press into the firm flesh of her chest.

Mike leaned forward, hoping to touch the naked flesh taunting him in the privacy of the small chamber. His fingertips had barely grazed the smooth skin of her stomach when Alex's slow movements erupted with a harsh slap. He pulled back stung and surprised by the outburst, but his reaction was quickly appeased by the shift of her hands to the back of her skirt. Content to be toyed with, Mike's hand returned to their place over his cock.

Still in her own world Alex danced. Her skirt's zipper slipped easily down her backside and with a gentle tug it dropped to the floor beneath her. Alex vaguely heard the intake of breath that her body drew from her husband. In the low lighting of the room, her skin set off every detail in the lacy bra and thong. The dark stockings and garter pronounced each small area of skin they revealed with a lustful signature. Alex had grown tired of the dancing and she turned once more, her body facing into a mirror and away from her husband. Her eyes opened slowly and gazed into their reflection as one hand supported her off of the mirror and the other roamed lower on her body. Her mind retraced all the burdens it had been put through by the blackmailer. The trickery of her husband, the molestation in the theatre, the pictures on the computer, and the dances in the strip club all came rushing over her. Somewhere inside her consciousness the heightened emotional state she existed in, became connected to the sexual nature of those events. Although it would fade as the evening ended, it would come back to haunt her.

Alex's mind was in no way aware of this: it was focused solely on the creeping pathway her hand had taken beneath her underwear. There it found her pussy, wet and waiting, and Alex's hand became the only thing to dance inside the private booth. Eager fingers attacked her needy twat with no pattern to guide them. They slid and dipped and fucked and stroked over her cunt. Mike had pulled out his hardened member and was urgently stroking it in timing with the outline of the fingers furrowed beneath the panties. The husband and wife's hands became a substitute for the other's offerings and they roamed apart from each other for a few more minutes. Alex was nearing her first orgasm when she decided that she needed more than her own hand and her husband would be the best fit for the job.

She whirled suddenly on him, her hand retreating. In her heels and lingerie she looked erotically commanding and she acted in the same way. She urgently straddled her husband's waist on the small bench and fished her panties to the side until she had guided Mike to her entrance. Alex dug her hands into the back of her husband's neck and leaned back, suspending her torso out over the floor. Then down she went, the thick hard piece of flesh steadily sliding deeper into her. Once she had settled at the base of his dick, its head buried deep inside of her tunnel, Alex began to ride. Her movements were angry and rough, there was no need for gentility here. She stared down at the man who had only moments before been coming at the touch of another woman and she focused all of that emotion into her cunt. Up and down she hammered, her weight supported from the digging tips of her fingers at his neck. Mike winced in pain, but the sheer uniqueness of his wife's lust forgave any injury. He watched her breasts as they shuddered with each end to their fucking. Alex studied his face as he stared down to the meeting of their sex. She wanted him to know that she was using him, that he was not needed, that for now, he was her toy. Alex braced her knees against the back wall, bending farther backwards, drilling her full weight onto the rod extending from his groin.

It did not take long for Mike to hit his second peak of the evening and he nearly lost consciousness with the power of the orgasm that washed over him. Alex did not stop as she felt the heat of his juices pour into her twat. She demanded that her body keep going, that her pussy devour him and everything he had to offer. For five more minutes, Mike's cock softening within her, Alex would ride and then she would scream as her orgasm took control of her anger and emotions and body. She would collapse backwards until her arms braced against the floor. For another sixty seconds their bodies would remain in entwined in a U shaped clasp, the meeting of their organs binding them together. Alex's mind began to regain its sanity as the waves of euphoria drifted away. She stared down over the peaks of her breasts and down to the glistening moisture covering her husband's groin.

He reached out behind her and pulled her close, his limp penis still resting within her. He kissed all over her neck and shoulders and ears. He would stop when she stilled him and buried her neck in the base of his neck. Mike was even more surprised to feel her body shudder with sobs. He was unsure of what emotions she was experiencing so he simply cradled her, listening to Alex let go of whatever it was that was built up within her.

Alex loved the naked press of her flesh against her husband's body and she loved the feelings of need and lust that had unified the two of them inside of the strip club private booth. But she hated the feeling that it had all been fake; that because of the initial reason for coming, being what it was, that she had lied to him. But Mike could not know what she was feeling because he did not understand the reason behind the evening. Mike would drive them home, his wife nestled on his shoulder still, sleeping peacefully. He helped her to bed and crawled in beside her. For the next fifteen minutes, Mike would watch the peaceful rise and fall of her breathing before he too slipped into a deep sleep ignorant of his wife's plight.

The next morning when Alex woke, she had none of the emotional build up from the night before to explain her actions. And all she felt was dirty and deceitful. Mike was still sleeping, exhausted from the long weekend. The only thing Alex could be happy about was that for the moment, the secret would be safe. She took the opportunity to enjoy the quietness of the house in the morning and got herself a cup of coffee. Once she had it in hand she checked her email. Subconsciously she had know that the there would be a letter from him so her reaction was not the bomb that it once had been. This one was short.

"Thanks for the performance last night. For your reflection. Save them with the others."

One by one Alex downloaded and saved the pictures depicting her and her husband's outing at the strip club. She had been photographed from the moment she had stood in the mirror at home looking at herself in the mirror. The picture had come from outside, but the voyeuristic quality of the image was quite erotic. The photos then jumped to her and Mike's entrance at the club, pictures of them with the dancers, and finally pictures of their sex and her striptease. Alex finally finished downloading them fifteen minutes later and deleted the email. She felt ashamed by the images and the manipulation that they represented. She was still curious, however, about the location of the camera and went upstairs to her bedroom.

Mike was half hidden beneath the sheets facing towards the closet. Alex tiptoed across the room to the window and began to study the outside scenery looking for something suspicious. There it is, her mind screamed as it caught sight of the subtle reflection of a matte black camera staring back at her from the peak of the rafter. The excitement was short lived as her phone rang. She turned quickly, hoping to catch it before she woke her husband. She grabbed it after the first harsh roll of the ringer and pulled it to her ear.

"Hello."

"Hello, honey. Admiring my work are you?"

"Who is this," she muttered harshly.

"Do you really need to ask. I told you I was always watching," the dark tone replied.

"When will this end. What do you want from me?" Alex whispered urgently.

"When I feel you have paid the proper penance for your sins," the blackmailer answered. "Now you are going to put on a little show. I wouldn't bother arguing lest you wake Mikey. Take off your robe for me."

Staring coldly back into the unblinking eye of the camera, Alex pulled free the tie for her bathrobe and slipped it off her shoulders. It slumped on the floor in a ball beneath her. Naked as the day she was born, she stood staring back, watching as the camera moved up and down, scanning her body from the edge of the windowsill up to her face. It would pause in its mechanically appreciative way at her full youthful breasts and her at the cleanly trimmed bush just over her vagina. It would return seconds later to her face. The voice in the phone laughed cunningly.

"Thank you. You are quite beautiful you know. You may hang up as soon as you complete one last task for me. Go wake your husband with a blowjob. Make sure I can see it though. Goodbye."

The line clicked dead and Alex turned robotically away from the prying gaze of the little camera. She set the phone down on her nightstand and walked around the bed to where Mike lay. Without any clue to him, she yanked back the bedding uncovering Mike's nude body. Mike's eyes bolted awake and he muttered something unintelligible. With one last glance up to the window, Alex bent over her husband's waist and took his limp cock in her hand.

Slowly Alex began to circle the tip of his penis with her tongue her eyes tracing up his chest to his face. Mike was now looking down at her, a puzzled smile on his face.

"What has gotten into you, you little minx," he asked groggily.

Alex said nothing in reply, she just continued to work on his dick. By now it was rising to the challenge and stood proudly at full flag. Once he was there, Alex encircled the cock with her mouth and plunged her head down its length, her tongue tucked tightly on the bottom side of her mouth. Her upward stroke was slower and more measured, allowing Mike to experience the fullest contentment of the attention he was receiving. She would make this a regular rhythm for a few minutes, her hand cupping and toying with the heavy balls resting between his thighs. Mike's hand drifted to the back of her head and slipped between the strands of her hair. Soon he was pressing her farther down on his dick; pushing it beyond her gag reflex and into her throat. Alex grunted as the dick cut off air and she retreated quickly back up its length, leaving a shiny marking of saliva. Mike's head was tossed back on the pillow as she began short rapid fire plunges on the length, her tongue hooking underneath the bottom side of his phallus. Once she had a few inches in her mouth she sucked sharply and then reversed blowing back the air in her lungs over the trapped cock.

Mike thrust upwards, plunging more of his penis into her orifice and drawing another gag from her throat. But he was already too caught up in the attention he was receiving to notice. Alex did not want to prolong the oral sex longer then necessary and quickly worked to finish him off. Over and over her head rode up and down his length until her jaw began to ache. Suddenly, Mike's hips shot from the bed, forcing almost the entire length of his cock into her mouth and throat. With an extended groan, shot after shot of his thick ropey semen poured down her esophagus. Alex swallowed hurriedly and almost managed to drink it down. One long rope of his cum slipped out the side of her mouth and dripped down her chin. Satisfied she had fulfilled yet another requirement, Alex traced her tongue around the outside of her lips and cleaned her face of the small trail of juices.

Without another word she turned and walked to her robe and left the master bedroom. She was sure that Mike was stunned and confused by the strange nymphomaniac who he perceived to have replaced his wife, but she was in no mood to try and explain anything.

Another few weeks would pass for Alex and her family. Every two to three days there would be a new phone call and a new request. Often times the blackmailer was content just to make her strip in front of the window. Others he would request that she perform some sex act on her husband. Alex had almost come to accept the man on the other end of those messages as part of her life. Always he would send her pictures of her performances and these too became part of her life. She would study her appearance, the facial expressions of her husband, how her breasts looked, what particular outfits did for her. Sometimes in the quiet downtime after work when she was home alone and her kids were not around, she would masturbate to them.

At first it had been non-sexual, but as the requests became more and more apart of her life, they lost their negative connotation. That had been the first step for Alex. The second had been the newer reaction to them. Many of the requests that the blackmailer put forth required that she give pleasure to Mike or put on a performance of her own. She was frequently left wanting more and being unable to get it. So after work, before class, any time she could escape the phone calls, emails, envelopes, and notes she would study her pictures, just waiting for the next request. Her fingers would begin to lazily stroke over her clit, then they would become more focused in their motions. One hand would clutch the mouse while the other delved into the depths of her need. Her eyes would trace the curve of her hand as it dove between her thighs in the pictures. She would feel herself spasm as her body responded to the image of Mike's saliva covered cock glistening centimeters from her lips. Then the pictures of her squatting across his face, his chin barely visible from the space between her thighs. Next would come the pictures of her pressing the phone into her twat. Then the orgasms would romp through her body in real life.

The progression was the same each time. She would not leave the chair until she was thoroughly satisfied. This meant she would be there for hours sometimes. In the two months since this all had begun, she had used up all of her sick leave and vacation time. The only bright spot on the horizon was Christmas break, which would arrive in only two days time.

The family would be home together for the first time since the beginning of school, and Alex was hoping that whatever trance she had fallen into would come to an end.