Lap Dancer

My wife rearranged her body so her pussy level with Suit's face, her knees resting upon the headrest of the couch. She reached back and pulled her g-string aside and lowered her pussy to Suit's face. My wife then lowered her head down and started to bob her head up and down, her hair covering her actions. I watched as my wife pulled her hair out of the way, giving me a clear view as her lips descended down Suit's cock.

"God dammit, man. Fuck!" Monique interrupted. "You could have at least warned me you were gonna cum! Fuckin'-A! I hate this shit. Now I have to clean your scum up off my ass. Dammit!" she said as kept walking to the door, leaving the VIP room.

My wife looked up when Monique started yelling. She smiled and continued sucking on Suit's cock. I felt paralyzed as I watched, my body drained of any strength from my orgasm. I knew from experience Suit was receiving an excellent blow-job. My wife loves to rub her tongue along the length of a cock as it slides in between her lips. She will focus her attention at the head of a cock, alternating between swirling her tongue around the head or just sucking on the crown. Tonight, she was doing both.

My wife lifted off of Suit's face, swung her knees down from the headrest and sat on Suit's lap, facing away from him. Her g-string was still pulled to the side. She guided Suit's hands to her tits then reached down between her splayed legs to grab his cock.

I could see my wife rub her pussy lips against Suit's cock. Finally, she raised her hips up and rubbed his cock head between her pussy lips. She leaned back against Suit's chest as she lowered herself down his cock. Suit's hands alternated between grabbing my wife's tits and her hips, trying to slow her motions.

My wife slid a free hand down her body, resting it at her pussy. She spread her lips giving me a better view of a stranger's cock violating her pussy. She kept her lips spread with her two fingers and with her middle finger, began to stimulate her clit. When my wife stimulates her clit, she is able to bring herself to orgasm rapidly. This was the case here, as I watched hips begin to spasm.

When she orgasms, my wife's pussy would rhythmically squeeze my cock, making it very difficult for me not to orgasm. Tonight was no exception, except it wasn't my cock that was shooting into her pussy. Suit's hips began to hunch up against my wife's still-spasming hips, his hands yanking down on my wife's hips harder and faster. I could see their mixed juices slide down the length of Suit's cock every time my wife raised up.

And then it was over. My wife reached back with her free hand, pulled Suit's face forward and gave him a kiss. She raised herself off of Suit's cock, a big drop of cum landing on his pants. Suit didn't seem to notice as his head was still leaned back against the couch. My wife giggled at him while adjusting her suit, not even bothering to wipe away the juices from her thighs. Suit regained his composure and adjusted himself back into his pants, trying to wipe away the stain from the front of his pants. When he stood, he put his arm low around my wife's hips.

As my wife and Suit walked to the door, he smiled at me as he passed. He was either smiling because he just had gotten laid or he heard Monique go off on me. My wife led Suit to the door and stopped. "Wait right here, honey, I forgot something in the back of the room," she said to him. She closed the door to the VIP room, turned and walked over to me.

"Here," she said as she stuffed the fifty-dollar bill into my shirt pocket. "Since you needed money so badly, you can use this for the rest of the night." She turned around and exited the door. Before the door closed behind her, I saw Suit's arm wrap back around my wife's waist.

Chapter Six

I tried to clean up the front of my pants as best as I could before I left the VIP room. When I was pretty satisfied I had cleaned up as best as I could, I headed to the door. Outside the VIP room, my wife was talking to a man. The unusual part was they were both standing up and he had a finger in her face.

"…we can't afford to get caught by the cops doing what you just did," he said to her as I came within earshot. "We could get arrested, lose our liquor license, or get shut down. You crossed the line, Tyler. You're a hot woman and a great dancer, but I have to let you go. I need you to clear out your locker and vacate the premises."

My wife nodded her head. I saw tears forming in her eyes as she turned around and went backstage. It was about fifteen minutes before she came back out. This time, she was in blue jeans and a one of my sweatshirts and tennis shoes. She saw me at my table and headed over. I had left the fifty on top of the table.

"Are you set to leave?" she asked.

"What happened? I thought you had to work until nine p.m.," I said, feigning knowledge of her firing.

"Fuck you," she said as she grabbed the cash off the table and began walking away. "It's all your fault anyways."

I left my table and followed her. I caught up to her and spun her around. The tears were back in her eyes. I gave her a hug.

"Come on let's get out of here," I said to her. "there's nothing left for us here." My wife said nothing, just nodding her head into my shoulder.

We broke our hug, my wife dried her eyes and we walked out of the club together. I followed my wife out of the club and watched her get inside her car. I went to my car. The passenger window had been smashed, the glass shards spread out over the seat. I looked with little hope down at the passenger seat for my wallet. It was gone, along with my remaining credit cards and driver's license.

I heard the sound of gravel crunching under tires as my wife's car pulled up beside me.

"Looks like someone broke into your car, lover," she said after she lowered her window. "I'll help you out by calling the police so you can get a report for our insurance."

She picked her cell phone and dialed a number. She spoke on the phone, hung up and smiled back at me. "The dispatcher said it was going to be a few minutes before they can come out. Seems it has been a busy night. I'm going to head home and I'll wait up for you." She rolled up her window, spun her tires kicking up some gravel and sped away. I watched her tail lights in the darkness until they disappeared around a bend in the road.

I leaned back against my car, waiting for the police to arrive. I looked around the parking lot and noticed the bouncer at the door staring at me. "I suppose you didn't see anything," I yelled across the parking lot to him. He smiled, shrugged his shoulders and went back into the club.

After waiting fifteen minutes, a squad car arrived. The officer came over to my car, wrote up his report and handed me a copy. He gave me a standard warning: cancel all my credit cards, get a new driver's license, and make sure I locked my doors at night in case the thief came to my house. I thanked him for his warnings and the copy of the report and went to the driver's door, getting ready to leave.

"You're not going to drive yourself, are you?" the cop asked. I looked up at him and asked him to repeat himself. He did, with the following warning; "Just by looking at you I can tell you've had too many tonight. Why don't you call yourself a cab, it'll be cheaper that way."

I told him I was out of cash and asked if he could give me a drive home.

"Sorry, unless you are in custody, it's against department policy to have passengers. But if you get behind the wheel of that car, I can guarantee you will get a ride from me, except it won't be home," he said, his voice growing more stern. "Besides," he added before sitting in his cruiser, "you shouldn't be spending all your money in a place like this."

The cop chuckled at his own joke and drove around the parking lot. I looked at him and calculated how long it would take to get home miles four miles away. I couldn't afford to get a DUI. I couldn't catch a break either tonight. I turned away from my car and started to jog down the road to home.

The jog home nearly took forty minutes. Business shoes are not ideally designed for running distances. I had to stop every so often because of the blisters forming on my feet. By the time I got home, I was limping in pain.

I entered the foyer of our house and took off my crippling shoes. I had to walk on the heels of my feet as pain from the blisters nearly dropped me to crawling. I knew I was a mess. My shirt was soaked through with sweat, my suit dusty, stained, and wrinkled. I entered into the living room.

The room was alit with homemade candles, another hobby of my wife's. The room smelled of vanilla.

"Where have you been, lover? I was beginning to worry," my wife said, leaning against the door jam of the master bedroom door. I looked at her. She was dressed in a floor-length, black satin see-through night gown. Strategically placed layers of double satin hid the most appealing portions of her body from my eyes. The gown was held upon her shoulders by two spaghetti straps. A large slit on each side of the gown revealed plenty of thigh. "You look a mess, honey," she said, walking towards me.

"The cop said I was too drunk to drive tonight. Since you had all the cash, I had to run all the way home," I told her. "They stole my wallet and all my credit cards, except the one you have."

"Poor baby, come here sit down," she said, leading me into the living room. My wife laughed at my ridiculous heel-waddling as I followed her into the living room. She sat me down on the couch. The image of what she had done on a couch earlier tonight flashed through my eyes as I sat down.

"Here, let me take this off you," she said as she grabbed the lapels of my suit jacket. She leaned forward and started to pull the jacket off my shoulders at the same time. With both my arms behind my back, I heard two clicks and felt metal on my wrists.

"What the fuck is this?" I asked, resigned. My wrists were locked behind me with handcuffs.

"We are going to play a game of twenty questions," she said. "I know how angry and jealous you get sometimes and I don't want you to get that way."

"I am not going to do anything," I told her. I was too tired, too drained, and probably too drunk to fight tonight. "Get these things off me."

"Not right now, lover," she said, her voice talking a sultry tone. "You were so well behaved tonight, letting me do everything I have wanted to do, everything that I had fantasized about, since we have been married. Now it is your turn. Tonight you get your own private show."

My wife left the couch and went over to the radio, turning it on. I tried to stand up but it nearly impossible to do without the use of my arms and not being able to plant my feet. My wife turned around from the radio, her body once again moving to the music. The soft candlelight was a stark contrast to the nearly blinding lights at the club. The candlelight reflected off the satin on her gown, giving her an aura of light.

My wife stepped up to the couch, hiked up the front of her nightgown, and sat on my lap. She grabbed the collar of my shirt and yanked it open, sending my shirt buttons across the room. She grabbed my t-shirt underneath and split that open from my chest to my stomach. My wife dipped her head and licked my chest.

"Salty, but tasty," she said to me. She stood back up and turned her back to me. The satin gown was a backless type, dipping down to the top of her ass. She looked over her left shoulder and let the spaghetti strap fall from it. She repeated the process with the right shoulder. The gown clung to her body at the hips, her arms crossed across her chest.

"Did you like watching me dance for other men?" she asked me, still looking over her shoulder at me. Her hips were still swaying to the music.

"Yes," I barely managed to whisper out, my mouth suddenly dry.

"I don't think I heard you," my wife teased, her voice raising on the last syllable. I repeated my answer only louder. "Good answer, lover." She dropped her arms from her chest and grabbed the bunched up gown at her hips. She lowered the satin gown to the ground, bending at the waist. The light from the candles did not offer enough light penetrate the shadow between her thighs. She backed herself up to the couch, spread her legs, knelt down, and rested her ass in my lap.

"Did you like it when I sat on those men's laps and danced for them, getting them all hard?" she asked, her second question.

"Yes," I replied, my head brushing aside her hair as I began to kiss the nape of her neck. My wife began to grind her ass against the front my pants.

"Did you like it when I took my hand and grabbed their hard cocks?" my wife questioned, her hand doing exactly that with my cock as she asked her question.

"Yes," she got me to admit.

"Yes, I can tell," she said as her hand ran up and down the length of my hard cock. She moved her hand to my zipper and pulled it down.

"And did you like it when I pulled his cock out and started to jack it off?" her hand pulling me out of my pants.

"Yes," I said as my voice caught in my throat.

"Good, because I liked doing that in front of you," my wife said, her hand working itself up and down the length of my cock.

She raised herself off my lap, her hand not releasing my cock. She turned around and dropped to her knees between my legs. She brought her face near to my cock. She bent her head down so it was looking down over my cock. I tried to arch my hips to get my cock close to her mouth.

"No," she said. I could feel the warmth of her breath on my cock head. "Not until you answer my next question. Did you like it when I sucked his cock in front of you?"

"Yes, dammit. Yes," I said, letting my head fall back against the couch in frustration. I was looking up at the ceiling when I heard my wife moan. I felt the warmth of her mouth engulfing my cock. My hips jumped up at the contact. My wife put her hand on my hips and pushed me back down into the couch. I lifted my head and looked back down at her. My wife had one hand at the base of my cock, the other hand was holding her blonde hair away from her face so I could watch. Her blue eyes were looking directly into mine. I loved it when she would look into my eyes as she sucked my cock. I felt her tongue press against the underside of my cock sending bursts of pleasure throughout my body as she raised and lowered her head.

She could tell I was getting close to cumming in her mouth as my hips started to rise off the couch in a rapidly increasing speed. My wife pulled her mouth off my cock, letting her tongue circle my cock head one last time. She stood up again, turned around and knelt on the couch, her legs straddling my hips. She grabbed a hold of my cock and started rubbing it between her pussy lips.

"And what about when I let him enter my pussy in front of you? Did you like watching a stranger have his way with your wife?"

"Oh, Christ, yes," I blurted out.

"Good answer," she whispered as she lowered herself down the length of my cock. She began rocking her hips back and forth on my hips. I started to raise my hips, trying to bury myself deep into her wetness. She knew I was getting close to cumming yet again as I picked up the pace of my fucking. She stopped her rocking and leaned back against me, pinning me to the couch. I watched her hand reach down between our legs, dip down to tickle my sensitive balls, and then move up, resting on her clit.

"And how about when I came all over that stranger's cock? Did you like watching that?" she asked me, her finger already began to caress her clit. I could feel her legs tremble. That was always my first clue she was getting ready to cum. She let out a little strangled moan from deep in her chest, the second sign she was getting ready to cum. "Answer me, please? Please answer me before I cum, I need to hear you say it," she pleaded, the spasms spreading throughout her body, the third sign she was sitting on the verge of an orgasm.

"Yes," I whispered into her ear. "Yes, I loved watching you cum on that guy's cock." That was all it took for my wife. She let out a deep moan, her body doubling over. Her body, wracked by the orgasm, trembled against mine. I felt her pussy seize and begin its rhythmic milking of my cock. That was all it took to send me over the edge. I shot my second load of the night deep into my wife's pussy. I raised my hips, trying to bury myself deeper into her pussy.

"Oh, yessss," my wife hissed as the first spurt from my cock entered her pussy. "Add your load to the other man's inside my pussy." I could feel my cock getting squeezed tighter inside my wife's pussy. She started moaning again, her body spasming to her second orgasm. Her pussy's movements prolonged my orgasm, trying to draw out more cum from my nearly-drained balls. Finally, we both stopped moving. My wife leaned back against my chest, her breathing still rapid.

"One last question," she panted. "Did you like it when that guy shot his cum inside of me?"

"Yes," I replied in between gasps.

"Good. I left his cum inside me because I wanted you to have sloppy seconds. Did you feel how wet I was inside? That's because another man's cum lubricated your wife's pussy." My cock involuntarily trembled as I thought about all of tonight's activities, including another man's cum now dripping down cock and onto my balls. "Hmmm," she said when she felt my cock twitch. "but I wanted yours to be the last load in my pussy tonight."

We stayed locked together on the couch until the pain of my arms being behind my back made it too uncomfortable to stay there. My wife slowly raised her naked body off of mine, got the key and unlocked the handcuffs. I took a moment to rub my wrists where the cuffs had bit in, stood up, and hugged my wife.

"You were incredibly hot tonight," I told her as I took her into my arms.

"Thanks," she told me as she returned my hug. She broke the hug, took my hand, and led me to the bedroom. "You know, without credit cards to pay for the deductible on the window, I may have to get back on stage to pay for it."

My cock began to harden at the thought.