Exotic Dancer

"I shall be as quick as I can."

"Relax Christabel. You're here to enjoy yourself."

He was right, I was a little anxious. Yardley picked up on this and instead of fucking at once, we sat in the garden room with a drink and chatted. He told me about his exercise routine, which seemed to take most of the day, and asked me about my life. He kissed and caressed me and admired the see-through body stocking I wore for him. Soon I saw that he was getting excited and I began to relax. He suggested I suck him off. I knelt on a cushion and took his cock in my mouth. Soon he was rigid and I found it comforting to stroke and caress him with my tongue and lips while he thrust against me. He was gentle and appreciative and I put my arms round his buttocks to hold myself steady as he came, semen spurting everywhere -- in my mouth and over my face and breasts.

We rested and had a drink before he made love to me. He can be kind and gentle as well as ferocious and we were very relaxed. I began to enjoy myself and by the end I was very satisfied -- we were both satisfied.

I was surprised to find Barnaby drinking coffee in the kitchen with Quince, who was dressed in pink pyjamas. I'd no wish to talk to the girl and stopped at the door, motioning for Barnaby to leave.

"Your husband's not finished his coffee," said Quince, turning to stare at me.

"Sit down for a moment Christie," said Barnaby.

I didn't want to but had no choice. They both stared at me. There was a silk wrap over my shoulders but nothing else. The semen must have been obvious. It seemed Barnaby enjoyed seeing me this way after I'd been with Yardley.

"You know I fucked Yardley this morning," said Quince.

"None of my business. As long as I don't have to watch. He has plenty for me."

"Your husband likes my breasts. He said they are very youthful." Quince lifted her top and her small breasts were indeed firm and uplifting. Barnaby stared. "I offered to fuck him but he'd rather drink coffee."

"Barney's seen better. I'd put them away. And he gets lots of sex."

"Quince has been telling me about herself and her family. She's going to study medicine and be a big-shot surgeon," said Barnaby.

"I can whore my way through uni," said Quince. "I have a talent for it and it's the only way."

"I wouldn't mind seeing you in your maid's outfit," said Barnaby.

"Next time. Just for you." She smiled nastily at me. "Just to make you hot and maybe your wife can find a moment for you. Otherwise, if you're desperate, I can practise my whoring. You won't be disappointed but I am expensive."

Bitch. She was winding me up. "Don't trouble yourself. I've had a great time with Yardley. Barnaby and I will have plenty of fun together when we get home."

"He'll be thinking of me in my maid's outfit. Actually, I didn't make love to Yardley. I overslept and I've only just got up. I left him for you to deal with. There's no reason for me to put myself out. This place makes me feel filthy. I'm going to get a shower."

Barnaby had finished his coffee and we left. Once more we made love as soon as we were home. It was one way of putting that so-called girlfriend out of Barnaby's mind.

I gave a lot of thought to my performance -- not so much the striptease as the lap dances. I knew I'd do as many as were needed -- fuck as many men as he wanted. Maybe the way out of my frantic life was through excess -- of having more than enough. It was Yardley I wanted but I had no objection to cock after cock after cock. Eventually that must become too much.

I put together a new costume -- grand and expensive with lots to take off -- basque, girdle, panties, stockings, petticoats, flowing dress. I'd do my striptease leaving on shiny black boots up to the knee. Then I'd put on the yellow raincoat tightly belted so that I could untie it seductively in front of my victims. It sounded suitably louche and dramatic. In fact I was enthusiastic, daydreaming of stalking about in my boots in front of my watchers and of straddling a stranger's legs and letting the raincoat fall open. Let's face the truth, I was hooked on showing myself off.

Sometimes I wondered whether Barnaby was enjoying himself more than me. I agreed that he would drive me to the venue for the dance but insisted that he stay in the car while I perform. I was relieved when he agreed at once to the arrangement, asking lots of questions and examining my outfit with interest. I would happily have let him watch the striptease but was nervous about letting him see the lap dance that would undoubtedly follow. I lived for the moment and wouldn't be able to hold back even if Barnaby was there watching. He'd see how much I enjoyed myself with Yardley and that would be cruel and he might make a scene.

"You have to stay in the car or you may see things you'll never get out of your head. I don't want you messing up my show."

"I'll cope. It's hardly new for me to see you naked."

"You know what I mean."

"You mean you plan to fuck someone. Yardley? I'd hardly be better off sitting in the car imagining it."

"Stay in the car. It may not happen."

"But you want it to."

"Look Barney, I have to get into the mood to perform. Right now I want nothing more than to have Yardley stick his cock in me and fuck me in front of a roomful of men. It's one way of ensuring I'm a success. I can't do that if I'm worried about what you're thinking."

"Sounds good."

"Imagining it is not the same as having it happen in front of your eyes."

"OK."

The venue was a dance hall on the outskirts of the big city and we had to search for the place. It was Barnaby who found the tiny portacabin where I was to get ready at the back of the main building. And so he was with me when we found Quince naked apart from frilly knickers in front of a mirror powdering her face. She looked up, displeased at the interruption, then smiled at Barnaby, who hung back.

"Well here's the prima donna." This was to me. "The stripper everyone's waiting to see. And my admirer."

That was for Barnaby. I wished she'd go away. "Try not to be a nuisance. I have to get dressed and concentrate on my act."

"Don't be so precious. You're not acting Shakespeare. I have to get ready too. You'll just have to make do."

She caught Barnaby staring and jiggled her breasts. "Don't hang around outside. Come in and shut the door. I promised you could see me in my maid's outfit and here's your chance. You can help me with this corset."

"Go back to the car," I told Barnaby.

"Leave him alone," said Quince. "I like him here."

I really couldn't let this girl distract me and pushed my way to the bench and made myself space in front of the mirror. Turning my back, I laid out my costume and began to get ready. Despite my efforts to ignore Quince, I could see her in the mirror. She had put on the bustier and Barnaby was tightening the laces at the back.

"I don't mind you touching. It relaxes me," she told Barnaby. Picking up her metal serving tray, she made a vicious, swiping gesture as if hitting someone over the head. "But anyone else who tries will be beaten to a pulp."

"Can you be quiet?" I snapped.

"You're wife's in a bad mood. Is it the PMT's or has she got stage fright? Or maybe she's gone frigid overnight."

"I haven't. I just want to concentrate."

"You're the stripper not Lady Macbeth." She was putting on a short, flared skirt. "It can't be that difficult. Tell me Barnaby what it's like to have a wife who strips and fucks around on stage for money."

"Cut out the philosophy," I said. "I do it because I enjoy it. Barney's happy with that. It's something you can manage if you have a strong relationship."

"Quince, you should accept people without judging them," said Barnaby.

"You really don't mind her fooling around with all those guys in there? Or do you just go along with it because she'll do what she wants anyway?"

"It's not like that. I believe in self-expression."

"And so she expresses herself as a whore. Is that what she is?"

"I'm still here," I snapped. "And I'm expressing myself as an exotic dancer. There's nothing wrong with that. Barney admires me for doing it. Anything more than the dance is just incidental -- happens because we're having a good time and I like the guy."

"You like to fuck around you mean. If someone loved me, they'd be enough."

"Nobody ever will," I said.

Eventually I was ready but wasn't keen to leave Barnaby with Quince.

"Don't you have to go and serve drinks," I said to Quince who, admittedly, looked stunning in her outfit.

"I'm staying here while you do your tacky act. I'm not serving drinks while you're fucking about. I'll chat to Barnaby. He's cute."

"I'd rather you didn't."

Barnaby kissed me. "Go for it. Don't worry about me. I'll be waiting for you. Remember to enjoy yourself."

Performance doesn't get easier with experience. I stood outside the door to the dance hall listening to the murmur of a large audience. Make this a good one, I told myself. It seemed a long time before I heard my music. Taking a breath, I pulled open the door and strode in, heart pumping, head high.

A wall of noise greeted me and my spirits soared. It seemed like a special day. So what if I like to show off? I do this well. I put on a haughty demeanour, sauntered to the stage and took a turn around it, wiggling my hips and shaking my bosom, getting a feel for the place and the audience, smiling and waving to individuals. There were maybe fifty people, mostly men, but I spotted a few women. Eager to see what the fuss was about, I suppose. Or working out how to take my place. Perhaps one would demand a lap dance.

I walked into the spotlight and began my routine, finding new inspiration as I lost each piece of my costume. I could enjoy myself confident that I knew what worked for my audience. I loved parading my breasts, getting them to swing and gyrate like a pro. The audience approved and it was good to expose myself, a natural expression of who I am.

I made the most of my costume, concentrating hard to remember the sequence of provocative flourishes I'd practised to go with each reveal. I was relaxed enough to pick out individuals in the audience, make eye contact and dance in front of them, my movements natural and graceful. I sat on one lucky guy's knee while I slipped down my bra. Then I gave him a kiss and was gone.

Of course I spotted Yardley. He was sitting at the back talking to someone. His eyes were on me but I wanted him to take notice. Did I have only half his attention because he'd seen it all before and was getting bored? Well, let him think again. I found a good-looking young man in the audience, caught his eye and smiled encouragingly. Maybe it's your lucky day. I sauntered across and put my booted foot on his knee as I slipped my stocking down to the boot-top. My foot slid across his thigh until the leather was rubbing against the bulge in his trousers. Take that, Yardley!

I was a success and the audience grew louder and more insistent. I paraded with a haughty twist of the head and a lift of the hip, my aim to look imperious. In no time I was down to my boots and loving the feeling of power. I would have been happy to carry on like this forever but knew the dance had to move on. It was time to get serious.

Should my first lap dance be for Yardley? No, he can wait. From the corner of my eye I saw a door open to the side of the stage. In came Barnaby with Quince. She led him by the hand and they pushed their way through the crowd and sat down on the banquette at the back of the hall, not far from Yardley.

Bitch. She'd no doubt persuaded him to watch, hoping to knock me off my stride. Well, she'd not succeed. Barnaby could be in no doubt what to expect and he'd have to deal with it. I made sure I didn't look at him but kept my eyes on Yardley, realising I felt a buzz like never before. Could it be that I was thrilled by the idea of fucking this man in front of my husband? Eat your heart out Barney, this is what you're here to see.

I danced through the crowd and hands reached out to touch and caress me. I was looking for a suitable partner. Anyone who tried to grab, I pushed away. After teasing one or two possible men, I saw a gorgeous boy who I took him to be one of Yardley's rowing mates.

His smile was welcoming and I knew I could have this boy if I wanted. Looking into his eye, I straddled his leg, bending to rub my naked sex against his knee. He loved it and wanted me to himself but I was playing for the audience. Arching my back, I managed a theatrical expression of ecstasy. Satisfied that I had everyone's attention, I bent forward and put my hand on the bulge at his groin. He pressed against me and tried to snag my nipple between his teeth. I drew down his fly zip and pushed my fingers inside, releasing the button at his waist so that the trousers drew apart to reveal a monster cock. His hand slid along my thigh and he buried two fingers inside me.

Now there was silence in the hall and I was conscious of the watching eyes. Barnaby was watching, mouth open. I pushed my breasts in the boy's face. Happy, he kissed and licked my nipples. I wanted to show that I was up to the situation and I took hold of the boy's cock and stroked it up and down, making the action as crude as I could.

Another glance at Barnaby and I saw that he was laughing, apparently delighted by what he saw. Quince was still beside him, ridiculous in her maid's outfit. Yardley was smiling. I slipped off the boy's lap, bent my head and sank my lips over his cock. There was a jealous roar from the crowd. He thrust his hips, filling my mouth. It was more than I expected and I stifled a gasp finding it difficult to keep acting with my head upside down and an unfamiliar cock almost down my throat. I wiggled my upraised hips knowing that this was the moment of truth.

The audience knew too. When I straightened up they applauded deliriously, shouting out new demands. Why not? I straddled the boy's legs and positioned his cock so that it slid into me as I pressed down. There was no resistance and he was instantly deep inside, deeper than his fingers, deeper that Barnaby, deeper than Yardley. I groaned and pressed down hard. Proud of myself, I stretched my arms above my head demanding applause. Barnaby looked stunned. Yardley was watching with interest. Was he jealous? The boy gripped me round the waist and thrust with his hips so that I rose and fell on his lap. My eyes remained on Barnaby and I was shocked to see him release his trousers, his cock sticking out of his waistband. Now I realised that others had done the same. I was bouncing up and down and gasping for breath. Barnaby's hand was round his cock. It became a weird, perverted game in which Barnaby stroked himself in time to my movements. I bounced harder, suddenly wanting to be done with this anonymous prick. The audience urged me on, eager for the climax. The boy stood up with me impaled on his cock and came. Still holding me, he turned and waved as he acknowledged the applause.

It was a good moment. I climbed off him, straightened myself up sauntered through the crowd as if it was a triumph to have a stranger's semen running down my leg. I could see my husband applauding with the rest.

I wasn't left alone. Others wanted to be next. I made them wait, moving among their groping hands as if undecided who to choose, teasing them with a glance or a touch from my hand only to glide away. My plan was to go for Yardley, fuck him and get out. The evening was suddenly too intense and I couldn't take much more. But I couldn't get to Yardley without going past Barnaby. His cock was still erect and standing up from his trousers. Quince was staring at me, curious to see what I would do. It was a mad impulse but it momentarily seemed the right thing.

"Are you ready, lover boy?" I said to Barney.

Before he could get over his surprise, I climbed onto his lap, angled his cock and let it slide into me. Soon I was bouncing up and down on my husband, my second cock of the day, lubricated by my previous lover.

"Fill her up," someone called out.

"Don't take long. We all want some," called another.

I closed my eyes and tried to think of nothing. Barnaby was jerking eagerly into me but I couldn't feel much, my pussy still throbbing from its earlier pounding. When I opened my eyes someone stood by my head, erection waving in front of my face. I glanced at the boy, who was as good looking as his cock. I caught him with my lips, drawing him into my mouth. He thrust against my face and I did my best to conform to his movements while still bouncing on Barnaby.

I was leaning against Barnaby with this cock in my mouth, thickset and rigid. It was only inches from his face and I wondered what he made of it. It slipped from my lips and saliva dripped onto Barnaby's cheek. He seemed not to notice, grunting and gasping as he thrust into my pussy, eyes closed, face rigid with effort. Once more I swallowed the cock, moving my head rhythmically so that the audience could tell what was happening. The cock slipped out again, this time bumping against Barney's cheek. His eyes opened and he looked surprised but continued pressing into me. I bent and kissed his lips, letting him taste my tongue before swallowing the cock again.

I was gasping for breath and once more my mouth opened. The bulging end of the cock slipped free and was twitching and sliding against both our faces. I caught it again with my mouth and held an inch or two of cock with my lips, caressing it with my tongue. Then it was free once more, purple and bulbous and nudging Barney's nose. Quickly I took it into my mouth to save Barnaby the consequences.

The boy was brutal and gave me his full length. I fought to stop choking, saliva dribbling from the corner of my mouth and he pushed harder and faster -- faster than Barnaby's efforts in my pussy. I held on tight as I was pumped and jerked, oblivious to the audience. Time stopped but it was probably only moments before the boy pressed hard and tensed. He grew red-faced and rigid and for a moment we all froze as he burst forth in triumph into my mouth, over my face, over Barnaby's chin and neck. His orgasm went on and on, his shaft sliding across my lips.

When he was finally done he pulled away and disappeared. I kissed Barnaby and pushed my tongue into his mouth, the cum making our lips slippery. He thrust with his hips and I ground down on him and I thought he must come but we were again interrupted. This time it was Yardley. He put a hand on my shoulder and caressed my sticky face. His other hand went to his belt and released his cock. I assumed he wanted me to suck him. While fucking my husband? Of course, he didn't know that Barnaby was my husband.

"You want this," he said, holding his cock and pushed my shoulder so that I fell forward on top of Barney who overbalanced onto his back on the banquette. Barney held me tightly in his arms, his cock still inside me. Yardley looked down at our semen-covered faces then turned and put a hand on my buttock.

"Relax. There's room for two."

Yardley's hand rested on my rear, stroking my flesh, a thumb pressing my anus until the tip was inside me. Please no, I thought. I don't want his cock in my ass. I was too far gone to stop him and Barnaby was past noticing what was going on. His arms gripped me tight as he made frantic efforts to come. Yardley put both hands on my buttocks, pulling them apart. One knee was on the banquette and he was leaning over me. I could feel his cock nudging against me. Please no.

Then something strange happened. He twisted and pushed harder against me and the tip of his cock was in my pussy with Barney. Startled by this unexpected development, Barnaby halted and Yardley took up a regular pulse with his hips, easing himself further into me. I concentrated on relaxing my muscles, the sensation strange but not uncomfortable. Soon he was deep inside me, deeper than Barnaby and stretching me further as his hips pushed hard against my buttocks. Barney moved in little, tentative jerks and I was trapped between them, pulled and rocked by their unsynchronised movements as if I was performing the most complicated gymnastic routine.