tagGroup SexPaid for Pleasure - MILF

Paid for Pleasure - MILF

bymarriedpervs©

As I closed my eyes, my hand gripped the pole and I swayed to the beat. It was Metallica, Nothing Else Matters. Slow, heavy, wonderful music. I moaned slightly and lifted my left leg off the floor in my high heels. My heaving chest pulsed as the wetness came to my pussy.

Dancing, I felt more alive than at any moment on earth. The eyes upon my body made me totally absorbed in my own sexual high. The money being pushed inside my thong panties only served to heighten my erotic mood. I squatted and spread my legs, gripping the inside of my thighs as I did so, the nylon of my stockings feeling electric in my fingers as I made my way down my own legs in front of the twenty or so men gathered during their lunch hour to watch.

I ran to the car and headed to the school to pick up the kids. Showered, make up gone, conservative sundress covering my body. Nobody at the school knew of my secret life. My husband knew nothing. It was my secret.

Twelve months earlier I had decided to change my life. It was time to live for me. For years I had looked after the interests of my hubby, Steve, and my kids before my own. No longer.

The ad intrigued me. I had always loved dancing. Nothing felt more alive to me than immersing myself in the music and moving to the beat. Steve and I had fucked hundreds of times after being out dancing, and he always said that taking me dancing was the best aphrodisiac he had ever seen.

My first day at the club was frightening. Frightening but totally fucking horny too.

I watched Melissa, then Rachel perform, before it was my turn. I noticed that after they finished dancing, they would return to the tables where the men that had paid them the most attention, and put the most notes into their g-strings were sitting. It seemed as though they just liked to say thanks, and I thought no more about it, as it was my turn to get up and do my thing.

Anyway, as I said, the song was Metallica, and I stiffly began to move to the music as I gripped the pole and began to dance. My routine was sexy, but teasing. Provocative yet elegant. It was to become my trademark. I knew that I couldn't compete with the hot looking young ones. After all, at 41, I was hardly a spring chicken. I also knew that without formal dance training, I was unable to do what some of the girls did with the pole and other props. I had to be different.

All my life I had loved to tease. I adored playing the bitch, and so, this became my way of being different. It set me apart from the other girls, and in time, won me my fair share of devoted fans and admirers who enjoyed the fact I didn't just hop up, move around and show off my pink bits! Other guys hated it, because they were there purely to see pussy, and I preferred to hint and tease.......which drove them mad.

I'd been living my secret life about two months. I was getting to know the girls much better, and the security guards called me "mum". I liked that. It suited me. I warmed to them and we all got on really well. I didn't threaten any of the other girls, as most of them were totally different in their dancing style.

The one thing I still hadn't quite figured out was how the girls were making so much more money than me. After all, we talked, and although I only worked two shifts a week at lunchtime, I was earning far less per shift than most of the others, despite the fact my own little fan club always stuffed my G full of twenty dollar bills.

One day, as I sat and sipped a spritzer before my routine, I chatted with Melanie, a bubbly, big boobed girl I had got to know well.

"Mel, tell me. How do the girls make so much more than me when we seem to do the same thing? Is there something I'm missing?"

"Ooh, Dee. It's time for the 'Wanna earn the big bucks' chat is it?" she smiled.

"Um. I guess so?" I answered questioningly, not really knowing what she meant.

"Dee. Before I go on, you need to understand something. This club is famous for it's dancers. We are known as the best looking, the best performing, and the most erotic club in Melbourne. Most guys come here to watch us dance and strip, and that's it. However, a small number also come for the 'added extras' some of the girls offer."

I looked at her quizzically, still not quite understanding exactly what she meant. She went on.

"Well babe, some of the girls here are happy just to dance, strip, flirt and go home. I am, you are, and so are more than half of us. However, the other half also like to make much more cash by.......you know.......having sex!"

"What?" I asked amazed. "Really? Here? Where? How? Tell me more!!!!"

I was shocked. I was shocked because a) I had no idea it had been happening; b) I was wondering in my mind who were the girls fucking for money, and 3) I was getting the pulsing in my pussy that suggested it might be something I would find totally fucking erotic!!

"Well, behind the rear bar there is a large door. You know, where Tony and Sid work? If a man enters that door, then he has made an arrangement with one of the girls to have sex for money. Behind the door is a small hotel which the owners have built, which acts as a brothel. Girls can take men in there and fuck for money, provided they pay a commission back to the establishment. In other words, the more they fuck, the more they earn. Now let me tell you babe, it ain't peanuts they're making. Cindy told me she made $3,000 last week alone, just for fucking three guys who were out on a buck's night! They wanted to all do her together, and so she decided to go for it!"

I sat stunned. I had no idea the rooms were there or were being used for this purpose. I also had never dreamt of earning anywhere near that much in a week, and never thought it possible.

As I danced that day my mind was racing. I moved with my regular teasing passion, but I looked at the men in the audience much differently. I wondered who would want to fuck me if I made them the offer. I wondered who was there for sex, and who was happy to just watch and fantasize. I also wondered who had money enough to pay for sex!

That night, after cooking dinner and putting the kids to bed, I lay in bed with my mind racing.

Steve has always been an excellent provider, and we also had a sensational sex life. I know we play around a lot more than most couples, but hey, we like it and we certainly don't get jealous or anything if we watch the other fucking someone else.

I knew I didn't need the money. So why was my mind and pussy telling me to fuck for money? What was it about the thought of having sex in return for payment that was making me so fucking horny?

When Steve came to bed I jumped his bones like a wild woman. As I jammed my pussy down on his spurting cock and milked him for every drop, he asked.

"So who the hell was that I was fucking?"

"Me silly" I said, my body still wracking with shudders of post climactic bliss.

"Yeah right" he answered. "Either you were fantasizing about someone else or the devil took over your body today and replaced it with a fucking wildcat, babe."

"Honey. Have you ever paid for sex?" I asked, his expression priceless.

"What? Where the fuck did THAT come from?"

"Answer me baby, I need to know."

"Nope. Never have, and never will. Shit babe, I am married to a fucking sex show on legs four feet long. Why would I ever contemplate paying for it?"

He seemed slightly angry, as if I was accusing him of something.

"OOoh baby, It's not that, I just found ran into a woman at the gym today, and she told me she was a hooker at a strip club in town, that's all. I wondered what would make men pay to fuck her."

I quickly changed the subject, as I knew Steve would not like me working at a strip club, even though we had an open sexual relationship. He is a proud man and likes to know that I don't have to work, thanks to his salary.

I couldn't sleep that night though, and my mind kept going over all I had learned about the goings on at the club.

The next day I was not dancing, but I decided to go to the club and satisfy my curiosity. I sat at the bar and chatted with Jason, the daytime barman, about what I had learned. He said he knew it went on all the time, and that Trevor in management was the one who handled the "arrangements" with each of the girls. I watched several of my co-workers dance, noticing that Jasmine seemed very flirty with two guys after her routine was finished. In fact, after dancing, then chatting with them, she made her way to the rear door, and smiled as Tony let her through into what I now knew was the fucking rooms!

I decided to find out more, and so I went to the office area and knocked on Trevor's door.

"Come on in, the door's open" he said.

"Hi Trev" just wondered if we could have a chat?"

"Sure mum" he jided, ad he stood and kissed me o the cheek.

He was actually a great boss, and had shown that I could trust him, never letting anyone know about my life as a dancer for him. He was also bright, knowing that his confidentiality kept many of the women dancing at his club. He knew that if husbands, friends or family discovered what we were really up to, we would probably have to leave the club and stop dancing for him.

"So what's up, Kiddo?"

"I had a chat with some of the girls the other day, and I want to know more about the fucking rooms, and how it all works."

I just spat it out. He was not prepared. I'm sure he had kept this side of the business hidden from me because he thought I was too old, wanted to protect me, suspected I would never want to fuck for money, and a hundred other reasons.

"Whoa babe. Who told you that?"

"Trev, it's fine. Don't go all freaky on me. I'm a big girl. I just wanted to know how it works and what the rules are, and what sort of money the girls can earn if they do that sort of work."

"Dee. Let me be honest with you. The girls who do this work are different from you. They are young, and they need the money, or they love the work. Some do it because they use drugs. I am being totally honest with you. I don't think it's something you would enjoy. I certainly didn't expect you to do this kind of work when I hired you. I hired you because you have something most of the younger girls don't. Tease. No one in the club teases the way you do, and for that, men either love you or hate you. That kind of emotional connection beings them back time and time again. You don't need to fuck any of them, Dee."

He sat back in his chair, and I suspected he was embarrassed that I had assumed he wanted me to do this kind of work for him and for the club.

"Trev. Let me tell you something honey. If, and I emphasize IF, I decided to have sex for money, it would be by MY choosing, and after careful consideration of all factors. You know I am a horny old bitch, and for some reason, the thought of being paid to fuck has me intrigued. I honestly had no idea it happened here, and now that I know, it's made me look at the customers in a totally different way when I dance. So, tell me, how does it work?"

He sighed, leaned forward and looked me in the eye.

"You really want to know, huh?"

"Absolutely" I replied confidently, staring him in the eyes with my baby blues, that I know can still make a man hard.

"Ok, then comer over here and take a look for yourself."

He went to a small cupboard in the corner of his office, and opened the bifold doors to reveal a set of four monitors. Each one flickered between four images.

"There are 16 rooms in all, and we emply a full time cleaner to take care of housekeeping. Each room is fully monitored by surveillance, and security are connected at all times. Tony & Sid take care of everything as you know. Financially, each girl can charge what she likes, but the rate is $250 for the use of the room per session. In return for this amount, security, copies of all performances on DVD are provided if required, and each girl is given an extra $100 towards her superannuation per booking. It's all above board, and we operate with a formal brothel licence from the gaming and licensing board. Noone is doing this kind of work against their will, and we look after the girls who do this VERY well. Girls must produce a medical clearance monthly, which we fund, and apart from that, the girls merely use the facility as the client needs demand."

He was all business. I was glad he was, because it made it easy for me to then go away and think about it some more, knowing all the details.

"Wow. Seems like you have it all covered, Trev" I said when he had finished.

As he was about to speak, the screen in the bottom right hand corner flickered to life, and I saw Kylie walk in, with a man following close behind.

"Mind if I watch?"

"Go right ahead" he said, "But only for a minute or two ok? Our policy is that noone watched the girls perform unless they are working security, or if there is an issue I need to check out.

I watched Kylie. I didn't know her that well, but we had spoken a few times, and she had often danced after me on a Thursday lunch shift.

She spoke to the man in the room with her, and settled the cash issue before anything began. He paid her $750. In my mind, I knew that she was making $500 profit, plus the extra hundred into her super. Wow.

Just as they began to kiss and he began to remove Kylie's clothes, Trev closed the cupboard doors.

"That's enough for now Mum!" he said. "Don't want you getting all horny in my office now, do we?"

He was right. I WAS getting horny.

"Thanks, Trev. Not sure if it's for me, but I appreciate you explaining and showing me how it all works."

He kissed me on the cheek as he too me by the hand and showed me from his office.

"No problem, Dee, and , if you ever decide to do anything more, let me know and we'll look after you. BUT, make sure you are doing it for the RIGHT reasons before you ever get paid for sex honey. Just some advice from an old pro!"

As I left the club that day, and picked up the kids, I decided to put the idea out of my ind for a while. After all, I didn't really need the money, and I could have sex whenever I wanted with whoever I wanted anyway!

The following Thursday I was doing my regular lunchtime shift, which involved a bracket of four songs. I decided to do my teasing nurse routine, and was wearing my all white nurses gear. PVC uniform, complete with hat, whit thigh boots, stockings and heaps of make up. As I began the last song, a regular, Shane, reached up and out a twenty in my garter. I smiled at him, knelt down and rubbed my hand slowly down his face, before blowing him a kiss. Just as I went to stand and resume my dance, he shouted;

"And if you ever want more, just ask!"

I finished my dance, and was about to leave, when his words came back to me. I wondered exactly what he meant. I had some time before I had to leave, so I decided to see what he was asking about.

I re-dressed in my nurses uniform, then went to the bar and got a mineral water, before finding him sitting alone in one of the side booths enjoying a beer and watching Jane as she did her baby oil routine.

"Howdy, Shane" I surprised him.

"Dee! What a pleasant surprise. Sit down. Can I get you a drink? Obviously not. Stupid question. Sorry, just a little excited. Never have seen you out here on the floor after one of your dances before."

"No, that's true" I said. "I'm fine, just wanted to know what you meant when you asked me up there if I ever 'wanted more, to just ask'."

He blushed, and I suspected he never thought I would take it any further. He had been watching me dance since I started at the club.

"Oooh, nothing really, babe, Just wanted you to know that I liked you, that's all."

He was shaking now, visibly nervous. I decided to tease him a little further.

"Well, if it's nothing..........but if you ever change your mind, and you think we can hook up after my dance, let me know ok?"

With that, I kissed him on the cheek, and left the booth, making sure to wiggle my ass as I walked off, leaving him with maximum effect.

Over the next two weeks, I didn't give it much more thought. Shane was not there the next time I danced, and I couldn't help wondering if I hadn't ruined the fantasy for him. I recall having an online lover in the early days of the internet. I spent a year getting to know him and we had cyber sex many, many times. Finally, I decided to meet him, and it scared him off forever. I wondered if Shane's visits to the club might have been similar fantasy.

Anyway, back to the story. I was writhing on my pole dressed as an office secretary three weeks later, when I noticed three men sitting together in one of the booths near the front of the table area, about ten metres from where I danced. It seemed as if a boss has taken his two younger men out to lunch. All three were impeccably dressed in business suits, and whilst not overly attractive, they exuded confidence and wealth. I got a little hornier than normal, and as I removed my skin tight skirt, I wiggled my legs apart and revealed my hand, deeply embedded in my hungry pussy for them to see clearly. I pumped my fingers in and out of my sopping pussy, before throwing my head back, laughing and moving away.

Finishing my routine, I gathered up my clothing and headed back to the dressing room. I was sitting at my chair brushing my hair and wiping off some of the sweat that had formed between my boobs, when Sid walked in and passed me a note written on a napkin. With the note was a small bundle of $100 dollar bills.

"Seems you made an impression on the suits" said Sid, before leaving the change room.

This was weird for two reasons: first, I had never received anything directly from customers before, and; second, I had never actually heard Sid speak a word. The girls swore he was the best security guy in the place, but I had never heard him usher a word!

I counted the money first. There was a thousand dollars in the bundle. Ten clean, crisp $100 bills. Then I read the note.

"Triple that if you can find the time and have the desire to spend the afternoon with us."

I was speechless. All the thoughts of being paid for sex came flooding back to me in a flash. To say I was flattered was an understatement. To say I was confused would be the same. Could I, a married housewife, accept money for sex from total strangers? Should I, a married housewife with kids who had a secret life as a stripper, take the next step and become a whore for money? Would it make any difference to my already sexy secret life? And, finally the clincher for me, would it take my sexual excitement to the next, unexplored level, knowing that these three men would be paying to use me sexually in any way they wanted for the afternoon.

My decision was made.

I neatly placed the ten bills into a garter belt and put the small bundle into my purse. Checking my reflection in the mirror, I reapplied some more ruby red lipstick, adjusted my hair, then too a huge deep breath and walked back out to meet the three men.

On the stage Mandy was writhing to her favourite song dressed as a schoolgirl. Barbie Girl wasn't my idea of a stripping song, but her best customers loved the way she put on the young girl act, and I wondered if it wasn't just a little alarming that most of the guys wanted to fuck her because she looked so young!

I went to the bar and ordered a pina colada, my favourite cocktail, thinking I best be totally relaxed before going ahead with my plan.

As I sat there sipping the ice cold coconut flavoured drink through the straw, one of the men saw me, and approached slowly.

"Hi babe. Great show. Loved the way you sat flat on the ground with your legs apart -- does that hurt?"

Small talk. Cut to the chase.

"Actually no, I've been able to do that ever since I was a little girl. Now, shall we get things going and move to a quieter place?" I asked, all business.

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