Anniversary Strippers

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A good plan goes a long way.
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I think a little backstory is appropriate for this one.

My wife is 35 and still very hot. She likes everything about sex and keeps me worn out. A few months ago she was invited to a bachelorette party for a twenty-something coworker. At first she didn't want to go because the others were quite a bit younger, and just didn't feel good about it. Just thinking about her being there with all those other horny women was a major turn-on for me, so I strongly encouraged her to go. To my delight, she acquiesced. Over the next couple of weeks I googled "bachelorette party fuck" many times, and got myself pretty worked up.

When party night arrived, I got home from work and was pleased to see she'd selected a top with a very loose fitting baggy scoop, a pretty short skirt, and heels. Admittedly, I was a little disappointed that there was no skin above her skirt, but I kept that criticism to myself. The fact that inner-boob was visible as she turned and dipped made up for the lack of bare midriff.

"How do I look," she asked with a coy look in the mirror.

"Hot. I need you right now on the floor," I said with all honesty.

"No way. I'm not going out reeking of sex tonight."

Her last sentence brought back some great memories our exploits, but let's save those for other stories. After a deep tongue-filled farewell, I said, "Great. Bye. Have fun," and I meant every word. The front door closed and I headed for my computer.

...

About four in the morning I heard the door latch. Sarah made her way into the bedroom carrying her heels, and I could see by the light of the television she was keeping one hand on the walls and furniture to steady herself as she made her way to me. I pretended to be asleep. It's a fun little secret I keep. She likes to sneak up on me and get me hard. I act all surprised to wake up when she's cuming on top of me.

As she climbed on, my dick is already hard. She smells like pot, booze and cigarettes, and she bit my neck a little. Taking full advantage of my stiff dick, she slid her thong to the side and enveloped me in her wet pussy. She was hotter and more eager than I'd seen her in a long time, and she pounded me with wild abandon.

The next morning ... well later the next day, I start trying to get details; the streaming images from the internet replaying persistently in my mind. I mean, something sexy would be cool, but not full-on sex with a stranger; I wasn't ready for that yet.

She tells me about clubbing and dancing, mostly with the other girls. There were a few horny guys circling most of the night, hoping to find an advantage. But the real fun seems to have happened when they got back to the house where the party started. Someone had ordered one of those cheesy male strippers, and he came dressed as a cop. Cliché.

At first she pled "girl's bachelorette code," and denied me the details, but I'm sure she just wanted to titillate me. I finally find out that it did get pretty racy. The stripper rubbed butts, breasts and even a few crotches with his nightstick. Then he put the bride-to-be in a chair and cuffed her with her hands in front. He proceeded to strip and dance, waving his teabag in front of her face. She never reached out to him, but he rubbed all her body parts that were within reach.

Damn! That got me started. I asked, then begged for more details. I didn't believe that's as far as it went. I had bookmarks that say otherwise! So she pulls out her phone, and sure enough, scene was just as described. I was a little let down, so I begged for more details.

Finally she "admits" that she got a lap dance too. Now I'm really ready for details. In fact, I'm flush with anticipation. She takes a turn in the chair, but has him cuff her behind the back. This is GREAT! If you've read any of my other stories here, you know Sarah and I have a robust bondage relationship.

Now I feel very insistent. I want video. I need video. There was no video allowed in the Coyote Social Club when I took her there for a lap dance last year. I begged for video! It took six calls and three days. Finally some other woman provided the clip from her phone that showed my wife with the stripper. She was indeed seated and cuffed behind. He was stripped down to the sock, which he liberally rubbed over her body. Her skirt was hiked up some, revealing a glimmer of her thong.

As I watched transfixed, he rubbed his sack over her chin and let it slide down her chest and into her shirt. He reached around her head with both hands and pulled her face into his abs. As he pulled away, I though her lips puckered and lingered there.

The most remarkable thing, though, was the look on her face. She doesn't ever look at me like that! That expression haunted me, and in fact became an obsession. I clipped that frame and kept it on my phone, and looked at it often.

...

Sorry for the long backstory, but I think it's important to understand the context of what follows.

...

Several months later, the anniversary of our first sex had arrived. I'd been planning it for weeks, and it is a big deal for us. You see, that picture of her with the stripper was haunting me. I was obsessed. I don't have abs like he did, and my dick is not going to stuff a sock that full. I don't shave my pubs, or at least I'd never done that before. But this was all part of my plan.

It was well after dark when we checked into the hotel, it was one of those that has a suite layout with sitting area, dining, and bedroom. I could sense her excitement as I dropped our bag of toys on the couch. We ate Thai, and drank bourbon as the excitement begin to build for both of us. She was wearing heels, a very tight sheath skirt and a fitted top with buttons up the front.

And she still had no idea what was about to happen. My secret plan, borne of my obsession.

First, we moved to the couch and I opened our bag of bondage toys. I pulled out ropes, chains, the leash, handcuffs and the blindfold. I cuffed her behind her back, and then slipped the blindfold on. "No gag?" she giggled. I didn't answer because I was sending a text message. Yes, the stripper... the strippers.

While I was waiting for the knock at the door, I began to tease her tits, her ass, her cheeks with the riding crop. The nipples erect stood at attention and Sarah bit her lip a little. She yanked around when the knock came. "Who the fuck ...." I stopped her in mid-sentence. "I'll be right back, just stand there," I demanded. As I opened the door, the strippers looked larger somehow than they appeared in pictures I'd selected them from. As instructed, they came silently and set up their act.

"What the fuck is going on?" she asked, almost a whisper.

"You remember that video of you with the stripper? Well I wanted to experience that myself."

"No," she said without hesitation.

"No" is not our safe-word, so I was delighted. I said, "Ok, let's get started. Sit down." And I guided her to the couch. The strippers started their act and I whipped off the blindfold. She sucked in a gasp as she saw them for the first time. Sarah squirmed to get the cuffs just right, then put on a naughty smile as the show unfolded.

Turning and dancing to the beat, the strippers shed their clothes down to their teabags. They took turns straddling her on the couch and rubbing their well-formed abs and stuffed socks all over her. One place a thumb in her mouth and kissed her upper lip while the other breathed and nibbled on her neck. Then one grabbed the bottle of bourbon, took a mouthful and bent back down to her lips. She coughed as the raw liquor burned its way down her throat ... the first time.

Wow, we are off the plan now, I thought. But I didn't stop it. She could still talk.

I said, "Ok, time for YOU to dance." I helped her to her feet. I sat on the couch and watched as the three of them rubbed and bumped in a sexy sandwich. Her hands behind her, it was impossible for her not to feel the dick of stripper behind, and her tits had no defense against the bulging pecs of the stripper in front.

Finally the music stopped, and she looked at me quite flushed. "Enjoy that?", she asked with a slight slur, I thought. I nodded, and said, "Tips are appreciated at this point." I pulled a wad of five dollar bills from my pocket and held one bill out. She had to back up to me to take it out of my hand and I watched in amusement as she tried to stuff it into the striper's string with her back to him. This proved to be very difficult, and she got a handful of balls in the process. She then came back for another bill for the other stripper. I flung the whole wad on the floor between them. This was all part of my master plan, which was working flawlessly .... well almost.

Sarah carefully knelt down (she's got a lot of experience getting around in cuffs and heels) and tried to pick up some money. This proved nearly impossible in the sheath skirt, and it hiked way up as she struggled. Finally she gave up with her hands and rolled to her knees to use her mouth. By now the skirt was around her waist and her beautiful ass was up in the air. She rose to her knees with several bills in her teeth, and crawled to the unpaid stripper.

She first tried to use her nose to make room for the bills, but soon resorted to her chin for more leverage. As she rocked backwards to eye her progress, his dick was clearly hard and pushing the fabric straight out. Undaunted, Sarah went in again, but this time the whole thing came off under the pressure of her chin.

Not in the plan! But I was intrigued.

She just looked. For what seemed like a long time, she just looked, and he just stood there looking down at her. Then, slowly, tentatively, she moved her face, slid his hard cock along her cheek and dug her nose into the space between his leg and balls. Her eyes were staring up into his, transfixed in his as if nothing else existed. Then I saw that look again. The one from the video clip. I got off the couch, pulled her to her feet, and pulled off the remaining shoe. She pressed against him and planted a deep wet one on him. I went crazy with desire, and reaching in between them, I ripped the front of her shirt open. I went straight for the nipples, pushing her bra up as high as I could and exposing her tits.

The other stripper pushed in front of me and wedged his sock into her still-exposed ass. Her cuffed hands fought with his string until it came off too. I stepped back in amazement. We were far off the plan now, but I could not stop it. There three of them stood there, rocking, rubbing. Sara pulled away and planted one on the stripper that had been behind, roughly stroking the other's hard cock.

"To the bed!" I almost stammered. The plan was for me to blindfold her and fuck her with my first-ever shaved dick, making her assume she was being fucked by a stripper. Maybe I could still salvage this part. The taller stripper obliged, scooping her up and rolling her out of his arms onto the bed, face down. I applied the blindfold, but noticed the other guy had yanked off her thong.

Sara was breathing hard, and her bare ass was up in the air. Was I going to go through with my big plan? How? I had no idea there'd be this many cocks primed for my wife. Glancing at the huge dicks around us, I reluctantly but decidedly removed my clothes, to be as indistinguishable from the strippers as possible. I moved around to her head. As I started to put my dick in her mouth, one stripper put both hands on her ass. I motioned for him to stop. They worked for an agency, that gave me control ... or so I thought.

He looked a little angry, but he complied. I made a few strokes on my Sarah's face, and was so hot that I was afraid I'd blow. I pulled out and headed to the other side for pussy. She was dripping and I slid in easier than I've ever known. She made sounds like I've never heard her make as I drove into her. Then it happened. A stripper put his hands on her head and pushed his dick into her mouth! I waved angrily at him, still not wanting to blow my cover and wreck my plan.

To my utter shock, the other guy wrapped his arms around mine pinning them to my chest. "Hey!" I shouted. "Get the FUCK off!" he said nothing, but started thrusting me into my wife using his hips. He was fucking my own wife, but with my dick. I looked at Sarah, worried that she'd realized that she was about to be fucked by complete strangers. Her head seemed to be bobbing under her own control. NO! I thought this is not the way it was supposed to be! Suddenly she pulled her face off.

"Harder! FUCK ME HARD! NOW!"

The stripper flung me to the floor and jammed his own cock into my wife. The other one jumped around the bed and put me in another bear hug. I could feel his hard dick against my bare ass as I watched Sarah getting the fuck of a lifetime, unlike anything I would ever be capable of.

There were moans, shouts, cries and begging pouring out of my wife. Finally he stopped, short of cumming, and left her face down sweating from every pore. I felt the bear hug relax, and I started to make a defensive move, but the one that had just fucked my wife made a motion and said firmly "NO."

The one who held me during Sarah's fucking pulled her, still panting, on top of him. His huge dick slid in easily. She started riding and bucking, trying to steady herself with hands still cuffed behind her. Blindfolded, at least she couldn't see my humiliation.

It didn't take her long to cum with that kind of stimulation. And she came hard. I thought at last this was over, and they would leave. How wrong I was. The stripper that had threatened me into silence moved onto the bed with them. This was my chance to act, if there ever was one. Then I realized what was about to happen. DP. He was going into Sarah's ASS. I was transfixed. It was unreal, like watching porn on the internet. I suddenly didn't care about Sarah, me, our dignity ... nothing. I just watched.

They fucked that way for what seemed like hours, but it must have only been ten or fifteen minutes. Then it stopped. Sarah lay motionless on the bed. They got their clothes and gear without saying a word. They picked up the bills that were scattered around the floor. Then the big one comes back to me.

"Three fifty," he says. I pull the four bills out of the pants pocket that lay heaped on the floor, and they left without another word.

...

I un-cuffed Sarah without her waking up, and we both slept late into the afternoon. I woke first, wondering what the hell I was going to say, what we would do and how things could ever be just ok again. I could smell their sweat and cum as I lay there not daring to move, to keep the protection of her sleep as long as possible. Then her eyes opened. She jerked her head in all directions, as if in a fearful panic.

"Are they gone?" she croaked.

"Yes," I assured her.

"You amaze me every year," she sighed, "I love you."

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