Date Night: A Stripper Named Gemma

These Date Night stories are 100% true to the experiences of me and my wife. I have not embellished or fabricated any of the actions. That being so, some of them may not be as wild as other stories on the site, but you can be supremely confident that every act, thought, and feeling are real.

This is the second entry in the series. It isn't necessary to read "Date Night: Dinner for Two" first, but it does give a more complete picture of my wife and how I feel about her.

Date Night: A Stripper Named Gemma:

My wife and I are in our 19th year together. About one month into our relationship was the first time that I saw her body take over. We snuck off to an out of view hallway and settled into an alcove against a closed door. She was sitting across my lap with her head and shoulders supported by my left arm while we kissed. Up to that point, this kind of intimate cuddling had been the extent of our physical relationship. Then she gently led my right hand down between her legs outside of her clothes.

Very suddenly, a sort of panic set in as we undid her button and zipper. I reached my right hand inside her panties, slid past the red curls I had not even seen yet, and touched her for the first time. It was a moment I'll never forget, not only because it was the first time that I felt the soft, wet lips of my one true soul mate, but because of what happened next.

She has always been sex personified, a redheaded pin-up who sways her hourglass hips hypnotically with every step she takes; but, when she is really, truly turned on, her sensuality radiates. She achieves and maintains the kind of sexual energy usually reserved for that last second before giving an orgasm, where you would push past any level of exhaustion or fight through any cramp just to please. Her body becomes a lust inducing machine, designed to make any witness give their whole being to serve her carnal desires.

She rolled herself out of my cradled arm. Her head was tilted back against the carpeted floor raising her chest and arching her back over my extended legs. I slid a single finger in and out of the gushing fountain I had discovered, and she rewarded me with discrete moans that entranced me like a sirens call. Her body twisted and writhed to create womanly curves not previously known to exist. I was a slave to her pleasure, and its escalation was the sole purpose of my being. Now, nearly twenty years later I have never fully escaped the spell cast on me that evening.

I'll stop there because this story isn't about our first sexual encounter. This story is about the next person who put their hand in her panties, the next person to push her to that superior level of desire. This story is about my wife meeting a woman named Gemma.

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A male friend of ours passes through town a few times a year, and he will visit and stay at our place before returning home. For years he had been trying to get me to go out to a strip club on the other side of town whenever he was passing through. He knows my wife wouldn't mind, and he doesn't have any buddies to go with him where he lives, so he usually goes alone. I, conversely, had only been to strip clubs twice. I had fun when I went, but I didn't want to go again unless my wife would go with me. Since she works every weekend, my answer to him was a consistent "not this time."

My wife is the source point of all eroticism in my brain. Her walking across the room in the right outfit will honestly turn me on as much as a lap dance from some other woman. However, her getting a lap dance, that is something truly erotic. Also, it would be likely to cause the sort of hypersexual state she was in during the story above. In our lives together the two things that have most consistently turned her on to that level have been fooling around where we could get caught, and other women.

She had never actually been intimate with another woman, but just being in physical contact or seeing them in a sexualized situation had gotten her to that nymphomaniac state. For example, typically the end of an evening out together with dinner, drinks, and music would end without any increased chance of sex. However, one evening some of her female co-workers danced with her at a bar with lots of touching, and on the 30-minute drive home, she was stripped down to her panties sucking my dick and masturbating in the car. It is easy to understand why I like her to get that excited.

Finally, it seemed, the stars aligned. Our friend was going to be passing through town on the same day that my wife had a rare Saturday off. We live in a college town and it was homecoming weekend. Most of the bars opened at 6 am, there were beer gardens everywhere, and the heart of the city was one drunken party. So, the plan was lots of day drinking followed by a trip across town to the strip club.

Drinks, football, and topless dancers with a longtime friend and my lifelong love, it seemed like a can't miss good day.

As nighttime approached, we both admitted we were a little worried about how nice the place might be. We don't live in an especially affluent area, and this place was on the proverbial other side of the tracks. Our friend assured us that it was nice and, being the only strip club aficionado in the group, we trusted his opinion. As we approached in an Uber, I could see that it must be a renovated building, it was obviously built for a more industrial purpose originally. It was a windowless nondescript white building with a large, but unremarkable sign and a well-kept gravel parking lot. I couldn't gather much good or bad from that first impression, but as we got out, I noticed the high fenced, very brightly lit employee parking area. I instantly felt more confident about the place seeing an outward sign that they took effort to care for the girls.

We paid our cover at the door and walked into the short end of a rectangular room with a stage on the longer right wall and a bar opposite it on the left. The lighting was dim, but not dark and most of it was colored giving the room a lush appearance. It was immediately noticeable how spotless the whole room was, and of course, the ambiance was aided by several scantily clad women spread around the room. The tables were set up in arched rows facing the stage. We took a seat in the row farthest from the stage and closest to the bar.

We ordered a round even though we had plenty of drinks in us from the rest of the day. I wanted to see one of these women wrapped around my wife as soon as possible, and I figured the row of empty seats at the stage were the best place to start.

"Come sit up front with me."

"I don't know. Maybe in a little bit, we just got here."

"We'll just be where the view is better. She won't dance on you unless you show some money."

"Okay"

She sheepishly walked through the tables holding my hand. We were there early (for a strip club), and there were probably less than ten other patrons. Although there was another couple in the room, you could feel some eyes following her toward the stage. She looked great but hadn't dressed any special way for the occasion. She wore a flattering dress that showed just a little cleavage and a pair of black tights. But, in a place built on the allure of attractive women, who isn't going to look when a smoking hot redhead goes up for a dollar dance?

We sat down at the stage and my strip club naivety was quickly on display, because the dancer immediately came over to us and slid off the stage into my wife's lap. I hadn't intentionally lied to my wife. I had only sat in "pervert row" at my bachelor party, and at that club, the dancers ignored you unless you showed them some cash. Here the policy was obviously different. The dancer removed her top while sitting in my wife's lap. Then, she took off my wife's glasses before pulling her head between her boobs. She ground against her in this posture for a moment then collected $2 from my wife, then climbed into my lap to give a similar dance.

This might sound like a great start, but it was actually a setback. My wife was trying to slowly ease in, and the dancer was very aggressive and not really either of our types (probably bottom two of the girls that night). So, after that it was difficult to get her to go back up. An array of attractive, but not special looking, women kept rotating on and off the stage and our friend went up to the stage for nearly all of them, but my wife started looking a little bored. That is, until a stunning brunette crossed the room.

Her hair was either very dark or just plain black and her skin was the color of a deep natural tan and appeared flawless from head to toe. She wore black rimmed glasses (naughty librarian style) and a coy smile on her face aimed at no one in particular. We could tell from the front that her body had more curves than most of the ladies working there. She was petite and fit, but had the kind of hips and thighs that make the mouth water and the hands involuntarily move as if they could squeeze her from across the room. But it wasn't until she walked past our table that I knew she was our girl. The best ass in the world belongs to my wife, but there was no contest who had the number two bum in that room. She wore ruffled lingerie style panties, much more covered than most of the other girls, but what we could see put the rest of them to shame.

I broke my stare and noticed my wife's. Her eyes were clearly following the same woman, and she slowly rolled her lips into her mouth to lick and bite them. Then noticing that I had seen her stare, she focused on taking a drink. However, she betrayed her distraction by taking another glance over the rim of her cocktail as the woman went on stage and the announcer said, "Please welcome to the stage the lovely Gemma."

The club was fuller by then and the murmuring voices had slowly increased the ambient noise of the room. As Gemma began her dance the conversation noticeably died down, and heads turned. A lot of the girls there would do specific moves to attract attention like loudly clanking their oversized heels together or making a sharp darting motion to draw the eye, but Gemma let her superior body to the work. She swayed and rolled and ran her hands over her ribs and hips. She just seemed more feminine than the rest, more woman.

"What about her? Would you go back for a dance with her?"

"I don't know. Would you be going with me?"

"I'd like to if you want me to"

"What's it like?"

"The ones I've had were like the ones by the stage, but longer and more private."

She looked to our friend and asked, "How private?"

He responded, "For $20 you can get one song in a semiprivate room. It's in the back, but some of the other people getting dances would be able to see you. I think the much better deal is for $100. You get 30 minutes in a private room, and they might let you be more handsy. Last time one of them let me suck on their boobs."

She just left it at, "I'll think about it."

At that point, the third member of our party got up and walked to the front row for another dollar dance, but when he came back, he informed us that he had told Gemma to come over because we wanted a 30-minute dance from her. It was perfect. If I had done that without her consent, she might have been upset with me, but she had no say in his behavior. So, her only option to not get the dance would be to turn Gemma away, and I didn't see that happening. I've been with my wife for a long time, and as soon as he told us, I could see she was turned on. She was nervous, maybe even a little shocked or scared, but she was also very turned on.

We watched Gemma finish her set on stage, and I imagined every move of her body was pressed against my wife's. I couldn't wait to see Gemma's tanned skin and dark features against my bride's pale perfection. As she walked off the stage, I could hear my blood pumping and feel my wife's palpable anticipation. However, some other customers kept stopping Gemma right by the stage exit and after a moment one of them pulled out a chair and had her sit down. My wife looked like she couldn't decide if she was disappointed or relieved. I had no such internal struggle.

It was about time I made this happen. Not only did I want my wife to enjoy herself more, but I came here to see her be sexy, to see her get turned on by other women rubbing their bodies on her own, not to simply gawk at a lineup of lesser women. Gemma had already turned her on from 30 feet away. I had to see what she could do with no distance at all. I walked up to a man who appeared to be either the owner or the person in charge and said, "Gemma was told we wanted some hundred-dollar dances, but now she's sitting at the wrong table. I don't want to be rude to those guys, but could you send her over?" He said, "No problem", and walked straight over to her.

I sat back down at our table at about the same time that Gemma started heading our way. I held my wife's hand as Gemma walked straight toward us. My wife's breathing quickened and her body stiffened. Gemma's smile went from coy to devilish looking right at my wife, seeing the obvious effect on her. She spoke directly to my wife, "I heard you waited on me."

My poor wife was at a loss for words. She looked at her entranced with a half-smile on her face and meeked out a "yes"

"I'm so sorry, but the wait's over, let's go."

We followed Gemma to the private area. A man collected my $200 and told us which room to use. She grabbed my wife's hand and led us into "The Sapphire Room". The name fit our private little room because all of the lights were blue, which, I couldn't help but notice, looked very good on both the ladies I was now alone with. There was a comfortable black couch, and a corner table for the drinks that we didn't think to bring in with us.

She started to take off her shoes and asked, "Have you guys done this before?

Me: "Not like this, no"

Gemma started to reach around her back, undoing her bra, "But you've talked about being with another woman?"

I took a short moment to contemplate a succinct way to explain that there had been a couple fleeting, purely hypothetical conversations, but then my wife just chimed in with, "Yes" and after she watched Gemma remove her bra, "We have."

I added, "To me, it's all about her. I just love it when she acts as sexy as she is."

My wife was to my left. Gemma started to the left of her and crawled across my wife's lap until she laid her head on my left thigh and her ass was perfectly centered in my wife's lap. Then, unexpectedly, Gemma started to take off her ruffled panties. This was not a full nude club and we both expected the panties to stay on. Soon, we could see that she had a much smaller black thong underneath. Once she got them over the initial hill of her hips she asked, "Can you help me with those.", and the love of my life pulled Gemma's panties down revealing how perfectly the thong framed Gemma's shapely ass.

She stood back up and said, "Thank you." while she put the underwear next to her shoes.

The redheaded beauty sitting next to me looked at her with hungry eyes. Gemma was now at full exposure, a vision of tanned curves with a few black highlights and that enchanting, alluring smile. She removed both her and my wife's glasses and said, "scoot forward a little."

Instantly my horny wife threw her hips to the end of the couch with her legs spread. Gemma could have done anything to her. Our private dancer straddled and rode her while rubbing her own body. My wife sat with her hands to her side, and raised her hips to increase the contact with her eager pussy. I could only imagine how swollen and wet she must've been. Then I grabbed her hand and placed it on Gemma's hip. As soon as she felt that soft, sexy, curvy, womanly body under her fingertips she looked like an addict shooting up. As Gemma's sexual energy ran rampant through my wife's nubile body, she melted. Her eyes rolled up into her head and she let out a long open-mouthed gasping exhale. Then...

A knock at the door about 25 minutes too early!

"Sir, you gave us two hundred dollars and we only..."

I interrupted taking the hundred he held through the doorway, "Okay, thanks"

I sat back down irritated by the interruption getting to see my wife brought to that manic sexual state in the most erotic way possible, by another beautiful woman. She was nearly lost to it in that last second and now she was just horny and untouched. Gemma sat in my lap facing away from me and rolled her ass against me. My hand instinctively shot out and grabbed my wife's body. Gemma spun around and straddled me pulling my head into her chest. My hand travelled up to my wife's chest and, with her hand on top of mine, gently kneaded it. Which got a noticeable reaction out of me, as I both audibly moaned and became quickly erect. Gemma looked down at me smiling as she realized that touching my hot ass wife through her dress and bra did more for me than all of her own exposed flesh rubbing against me.

"You'd rather I dance on her, wouldn't you?"

Me: "I think she would prefer that, too."

I believe it was right then Gemma decided to make this dance a bit more than it might otherwise have been. She re-seated herself on my wife and immediately began to fondle her chest through her dress...then rubbed the exposed cleavage...then she reached inside her bra while grinding her hips. Then, pulled down my wife's neckline and lifted out the boob she was holding, exposing it to the open air. Then she brought out the other one so that both women were effectively topless. I thought maybe she would pull some porno move like rubbing their boobs together but, to my surprise, she leaned down and took my wife's hardened nipple into her mouth.

She licked and sucked the puffy pink left nipple (man I love redheads) then kissed the flesh around it before sucking it again. My wife looked shocked and intense. She began to run her hand through Gemma's hair. My wife is my living sexual fantasy, the only woman I have even dreamt of for the entirety of my adult life. I have pictured her exactly like this, but as always, the reality of her far exceeded anything my feeble imagination could muster.

What I didn't know was that we hadn't even gotten to the good part yet.

My beautiful bride began to breathe heavily and unevenly, then I saw the cause. Gemma's hand was between her legs rubbing her pussy through her tights while continuing to massage, lick and kiss her breasts. Seeing my wife's obvious acceptance, Gemma eased down to her knees between my wife's legs. With her left hand, she pulled the waistband of my wife's black tights back enough to see her panties. Then Gemma reached in, massaging her teasingly through the thin underwear, and said, "We don't quite have the biggest wet spot yet." This let me know that my wife was currently soaking through her underwear.

But then, at Gemma's thinly veiled touch, my sensual beauty began to twist and writhe as she arched her back and circled her hips. She had arrived at her sensual mountaintop. Gemma's whole demeanor changed. Sexual as it was to this point, it had still been a dance of sorts. A performance for paying customers. I smiled as I saw it happen to someone else. She was under my wife's spell. She had to please her.

Gemma now looked at my wife with wide eyed-determination and began to pull all over the waistband of the tights, clearly fighting the urge to take them off. Then I couldn't resist any longer either, and I began kissing my wife's neck before she moaned loudly and pulled me in for a deep kiss. Gemma was back up licking and kissing her still exposed breasts and I could hear the sounds of her hand pleasing my wife's oversaturated lips. My wife gave herself over to all of the hands and mouths. She was lost in a sea of pleasure, and I again sat back to marvel her. I still wasn't completely sure if Gemma had found her way inside my wife's panties until she said, "I think we should give him a taste. What do you think?" My wife nodded in approval.