Amateur Night


"The amateurs get to do more and get more done to them; they don't have to follow the house rules" Amber (surely not her real name) informed the small group of attentive and somewhat nervous women gathered to discuss amateur night at the strip club. Also in the room were several husbands and boyfriends, acting nonchalant but clearly excited and perhaps unsure. This club, aptly named "Pole Position", does an amateur night twice a month and with excitement and trepidation we planned our trip to include one of these wonderful Wednesdays. My wife Donna is an executive in sales with a big company, we have two kids, and she had never done anything like strip or dance professionally. But we have an active fantasy life, have done a few wild things in our fifteen years of marriage, and this one emerged as the next big thrill.

After a few days as tourists, including a few peeks into some adult clubs, it was Wednesday, and in the late afternoon there was a women's-only pole dance workout followed by a sign-up and pep talk by Amber. If you wanted you could be a spontaneous walk on at night, but if you were at the workout you got Amber's perspective, and you got juiced up with anticipation. I chatted with some of the other men (and boys, really) in the outer lobby while the girls did their workout on the stage, and then they let us in for the talk. She explained that the girls were safe, that the action was monitored. If a girl showed some distress she would be helped. Otherwise, she could enjoy. She explained that the tables were as sturdy as the stage and could be stood on, stretched out on, et cetera.

We had made love every night this trip, now 3 nights in a row. Back at the hotel we went at it again like animals. We spoke to each other while we fucked. "Do you want me to get off the stage and do lap dances?"


"Will you want to see other men touch my tits?" "My cunt?"

"Yes." They'll put their fingers where I am now."

"Do you want that? Would you want me to shower after they touch me or would you fuck me just like this?" She was more aggressive than I can remember and got on top of me, humping me hard until I came into her. I couldn't get my heart to stop pounding thinking about Donna naked, doing a pole dance in a room full of horny men and tipsy women. I can't imagine how Donna felt.

After, she showered and spent some extra time in the bathroom. I saw her with a razor cleaning up the edges of her recent bikini wax. Donna has not gone for the twenty-first century Brazilian look; she keeps a thick, dark bush trimmed and waxed neatly on the sides. Two or three times in our lives together she has shaved, and then grown it back. I have always enjoyed that phase with the short, scratchy hairs that sandpaper me gently while I slide into her. But tonight there was hair, and there would be spectators.

She chose her clothes very carefully, starting with white cotton panties with lace panels in front. Somehow more dignified than a thong. Over this went the jeans and the mid-calf black leather boots. On top she wore a flimsy white bra with matching lace trim and covered this with a white pullover blouse with three buttons at the neckline that unbutton down below her cleavage. She topped this off with a black leather vest to match the boots.

At the club there were drinks and we got lit pretty fast on empty stomachs. We hadn't felt like dinner. Some, but not all of the afternoon people were there. Several waves of the club's girls danced and stripped while the crowd got hot. At about 11:30 Amber and 3 others took the stage and did their stripping. They were young and fit and incredibly fluid in their dance moves. One of the girls, the youngest I think, was invited down to the front of the stage by 3 very good looking twenty-something men for a table dance, and they kept her there with generous tips for 3 songs. Two were white men with some serious tattoos; one was black with a shaved head and gold earrings. I could hear them laughing and talking about how the girls in Vegas were a lot hotter than girls from Chicago. There was a lot of brief touching, you could tell these guys knew just how far they could go without getting the bouncers out from behind their hidden cameras. I wondered if security kept the tapes from those cameras after amateur night and would enjoy Donna again and again.

Finally, our girls were called up to the stage. The lights were dimmed way down. I slid back a few tables to enjoy the show and to keep my connection to Donna less obvious. Let nature take its course, so to speak.

There were 6 girls. The youngest was college age, the oldest a very thin 50 with terrific legs. Everything from jeans to sundresses. The PA played an 80's dance tune, a little quieter than the music before. The girls danced. A few tops came off, then some shoes. The music switched to a disco/electronica mix and they dimmed the lights further to spur the girls on. Two of the younger girls got down to bra and panties pretty quickly. The older woman had a small fan club consisting of her husband and what I guessed was a "special" friend. She was the first to come off the stage and give a table dance, but she wasn't born yesterday. First she went to the table next to her men and that's where she got the remainder of her clothes off. She flung her panties toward her guys' table. They were caught by the one that was not her husband. He stashed them in his shirt.

The music swirled on. Two other dancers left the stage and I could see what Amber had meant by "get more done to them". Every girl that danced in the audience had hands on her breasts, money stuffed into garters and waistbands, and lots of touching and exposure that wouldn't be allowed with the club girls. I did see one of the young girls rub her pussy on a guy's lap while another guy licked her cleavage.

By this time Donna's vest and blouse were gone. I wondered if she would reveal her bouncy breasts before the jeans came off and she did. Something about denim and bare breasts makes me crazy. Donna must have known before she got on stage where she was going to go. She danced in front of the 3 guys from Chicago, made eye contact with all three, and dispensed with her jeans and panties together in one swoop. So much for the see-through panels. She was the second to last off the stage, and stepped right into the three men.

I know they were transfixed by her. With most of the girls shaved, nearly shaved, or blond, she was the only one with a striking black bush and her bouncy white breasts with dark brown nipples made a picture like a master's painting from the Renaissance.

There was a lot of touching. From where I sat Donna could be seen kneeling on the table and six hands went up and came around, feeling her tits and stroking her legs and stomach. One of the guy's heads was in my line of sight, but when Donna threw her head back and rocked to the music I knew what was happening.

At that point she saw where I had relocated. She smiled slyly and then turned, re-positioned facing away from me. From two tables away I could now see her perfect bottom. She leaned down, away from me. From between her thighs a white hand slid up and I could clearly see two fingers against her black hair. They disappeared into her. Across her bottom from above came a black hand, and two more fingers attempted to gain access, the middle finger made it in while, from below, the other middle finger slid out to make room and I could see his index finger remaining. It seemed like they were able to hold that position for a long time, despite Donna rocking enthusiastically. I could not take my eyes off this sight and I have no idea where the other 4 hands were. These two fingers from two different men together in her cunt were so erotic!! I remember thinking "my come is still in there". And I saw that one of those hands had a wedding band; wondered if that guy's wife would ever do some of the things Donna has done. I tried to imagine what this must feel like to her as she publicly rocked on these stranger's fingers but I could not come up with words for it. But I know my wife's body, and I knew when she came on them.

Then, Amber. Her voice came over the PA as she led the three other pros back out of the dressing room door and onto the stage. "OK, let's give a hand to the guest talent!! The women and girls that live in your bedrooms and share your fantasies. You know them a little better now and so do all of us in this room!" It was time for the show to end and the wives and girlfriends to put their clothes back on and relinquish the spotlight. But I knew I'd never look at Donna quite the same again; there would always be that glimmer of stripper coming through.

We stayed for one drink, watched the girls on the stage and tried to act like regular patrons. We sneaked a few looks around at the other compatriots, now in their clothes but all oozing sex. Thin and fifty sat between her husband and her special friend wearing a short black skirt and high boots. Her panties were still in the friend's shirt. Did anyone else know? The three young men from Chicago mercifully seemed to disappear; I don't know what it would have been like if they came over to our table. Were they barhopping elsewhere and hoping for more? Were they sniffing her sweet pussy off their fingers?

Later, at home, she whispers past my ear as I put my hands on her waist; heart thumping in anticipation. "Should I take a shower?"

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