I Fell In Love With a 19 yo Stripper!

Stories are much easier for me to write when they have some semblance of truth to them, and this piece of work was inspired by my recent guys’ night out.

It’s connected to the “Sharing My Wife Amanda” series, but can be read as a standalone.

*********

“Let me get this straight,” my wife Amanda slowly began. “Your buddies want to go to a strip club... but they’re telling their wives that they’re going to a sports bar instead... and they want you to go and be their alibi?” The incredulity in her voice rose as she spoke.

“Yea, um, Mandy. Something like that.”

“Are they not getting any sex at home?” Amanda’s speculation drew a hearty laugh from me, but she ignored it. “So you’re going to lie for your friends and pay money just to look at some tits and ass? Really?”

That was, in fact, what my friends Calvin and Pat were hoping. Like me, they were married and had children, and were slaves to their jobs and other responsibilities that life demanded. As a result, we had been discussing a “guys’ night out”. And while venturing to a strip club wasn’t on my top 10 list, it was years since I had last been to one, and I was fairly eager to go.

“I told them I wouldn’t tell Connie or Jane where we’re going, but they know that I won’t lie if their wives ask.” I hesitated. “So, uhhh... can I go? I mean, do you mind if I...”

“Do I mind if you, what? Hang out with your boys and let a bunch of half-naked women steal your money?” Amanda snorted. “If that floats your boat, then go right ahead. I’m sure as hell not going to get bent out of shape over a bunch of strippers. More power to them!”

A lesser woman would’ve been upset, but not Amanda. She was aware that I would stare at a beautiful woman just as I knew she’d happily flirt with a handsome man; we had that type of relationship.

Amanda’s had confidence in me, but also in herself. After all, my wife was stunningly beautiful, even if she was too modest to acknowledge that obvious fact. Standing at 5’6, she possessed silky straight black silk hair that ran to her hips and was constantly fragrant. Yoga, regular workouts at the gym, and running 10+ miles every week may have bestowed onto Amanda an athletic physique, including a V-shaped upper torso, toned arms and legs, and killer abs, but it didn’t take away from her feminine curves. Any man---and many women--- within eyesight couldn’t helped but be mesmerized by her perfect 34C breasts and incredible, sculpted ass. Her brown, slightly almond-shaped eyes gave her a decidedly exotic countenance, and always seemed to be twinkling with some sort of naughtiness or inside joke that only she was aware of. However, Amanda’s adorable freckles were perhaps her sexiest physical trait of all.

But all of that paled in comparison to her intelligence and compassion.

I grinned, hugged her close, and touched my forehead to hers, our personal sign of affections since we were young kids dating. “Thanks, Mandy. You’re the best. I love you.”

“I love you, too, babe.” But she hesitated.

“Seriously, Mandy. I won’t go if you’re not cool with it. The guys and I can go someplace else... or I don’t have to go out with them at all.”

“It’s not that, silly.”

“Then what is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Seriously, Mandy. Tell me.”

Amanda blushed in embarrassment. “I want to go, too.”

“What?” I exploded incredulously

“I mean, I’m curious. I’ve never been to a strip club. I wanna see what these girls do and how they interact with their customers... how they play them. God, I think it would feel so empowering to do what these girls do!”

The notion of my hot wife as a stripper, and the amount of attention she would command, was as wildly enthralling as the idea of her accompanying me and my friends.

“Come with us!”

Amanda made a rude sound. “I’d probably be the only female who doesn’t work there. Besides,” she sniffed, “Pat and Calvin will think I’m coming just to keep an eye on you, and I don’t want to look like the ‘jealous wife’.”

“Are you kidding me? They’ll love it!” And it was the truth. My friends may have been married, but I knew that they secretly, and sometimes not so secretly, lusted after my wife.

What man didn’t?

Amanda actually considered my invitation, but ultimately shook her head, much to my dismay. “No, you boys go have fun. Just fill me in on what you see in there, and don’t blow too much money on strippers.”

I laughed. “I promise!”

Amanda made a face. “And whatever you do, make sure you shower before you crawl into bed with me.”

*********

The Watering Hole was located in a nicer section of the city and reputedly the finest gentleman’s club on this side of the state. I had known about its existence, but had never been here until tonight. The double entendre of its name was especially amusing to me.

Two large, menacing-looking bouncers standing at the front door nodded at us as Pat, Calvin, and I entered. In the entry was a hostess sitting behind a cash register. She was wearing a black latex dress that was so tight, it made me wonder how she was able to breathe. Her breasts were enormous--- D cups, without a doubt--- and appeared as though they were about to burst from her outfit. After greeting us and accepting our cover charge, she changed some of our bills to singles then indicated the velvety red curtain behind her.

My friends and I marched through.

It wasn’t even 10pm yet, but the Watering Hole already crowded. There were 2 stages in the club, the main one at the front and a smaller one in the back. Both were ringed with seats for anyone with the funds to watch a dancer up close and personal, and adorned with the expected stripper pole. To the side of the main stage was the DJ and emcee, while a large bar was situated at the far wall in the center of the club. Opposite to the bar was large neon “VIP” sign hanging above a curtained doorway. And scattered through the club were small tables and seats, couches, and benches for customers to sit back and relax.

There were girls milling all around us. Most were topless, wearing only panties or bikini bottoms or short shorts; some wore sexy lingerie, while others strutted their stuff in BDSM attire. A handful of the girls had a theme to their outfits: a petite blonde who wore her hair in pigtails over a short, plaid miniskirt and thigh-high stiletto boots immediately caught my attention. She also wore nerdy black-rimmed glasses and carried a large lollipop. A small backpack was slung over her back to complete the topless schoolgirl outfit. Just as my penis started to throb, another blonde, equally as cute and wearing a full French maid outfit, sauntered past us, leading a man by the hand who was grinning uncontrollably.

There were girls for every taste: short and tall, large and skinny, small-chested and stacked... girls from different ethnic backgrounds... some with clear, unblemished skin, others whose bodies were almost fully adorned with exotic tattoos and piercings... blondes, brunettes, redheads...

The girls may have been diverse to satisfy every man’s tastes, but the clientele was equally varied. There were men who had arrived alone, most of them glancing about furtively as if hoping not to be recognized. Some appeared old enough to be grandfathers of the girls working here while several appeared too young to even be here. A significant number of men were wearing expensive suits.

There were many female patrons present, too.

I took everything in, and surprisingly found myself blushing. Yes, it had been a long time since I’d been to a strip club!

Pat and Calvin scanned our surroundings, and grinned like schoolboys. Pat clapped us on the back and draped his arms over our shoulders. “C’mon, boys. Let’s meet some girls!”

After ordering drinks, we were found a table with 3 empty seats close to the main stage. We had barely sat down when a pretty brunette immediately descended upon us. She had long hair in a tightly wound braid with dark eyes, and naturally tanned skin which made her appear Latino or Spanish. She wasn’t wearing anything except boots and a skimpy fluorescent green thong, which really stood out in the dim interior. The girl knelt next to Calvin, but kept her back erect, making her ample breasts appear even more voluptuous.

“Hey, guys. My name is Luna.” She made small talk with us, subtly shifting her body to show off her wares. However, she placed her hand on Calvin’s thigh as she spoke, clearly zeroing in on him. Eventually, she asked, “So can I interested one of you in a private lap dance?” She spoke to all of us, but stared at Calvin.

He never stood a chance. “Of course. Lead the way, hot stuff!”

Pat chuckled as our friend stood up and went with Luna. “Have fun!”

I shook my head ruefully. “That didn’t take long, did it? Cal better pace himself. Only a minute in, and he’s already about to blow his whole load!”

Pat and I laughed.

Our friend was barely gone a minute when another girl approached us, and then another. The format, of course, was always the same: they would greet us with a smile, make small talk, and then offer us a private dance which, of course, was not free.

I kept politely declining, but Pat eventually took a liking to a short blonde named “Bambi”, and he enthusiastically followed her to parts unknown.

I was suddenly alone. Glancing about the room, I studied the pretty girls who were weaving their way between customers, enticing them with their smiles and bodies, and curiously observed their transactions that were peculiar yet normal in this establishment.

I suddenly recalled my wife’s curiosity over the inner workings of a strip club, and knew she’d be amused to witness what I was seeing.

My wife...

As I usually did when I had a moment to myself, I thought of Amanda. Despite the fact that there were a plethora of attractive, nearly naked women all around me, the thought of her touch and fragrance... of her bright smile and adorable freckles... aroused me more than any stripper could. In fact, I began unconsciously comparing every topless girl to my wife, and quickly came to the conclusion that none of them remotely compared to her.

I grinned as I fantasized about Amanda stripping and dancing at the Watering Hole; she’d be easily make a fortune every night. The idea of strangers staring at my naked wife and lusting for her made me proud and extremely hard.

As the night progressed, the girls who approached us became noticeably more aggressive. They were trying harder now to entice us to follow them to the VIP Lounge, some even reacting outwardly annoyed when my friends and I declined. Almost an hour and a half in to our guys’ night out, Pat and Calvin had already enjoyed multiple private lap dances, and even showered money on the dancers performing onstage.

I had been anticipating tonight with excitement, and while I wouldn’t say that I was disenfranchised, my mind had drifted elsewhere. The increasing forcefulness of the girls was a major turnoff, and I found myself missing Amanda profusely. Except for getting up once to go to the bar for another drink, I remained rooted in my seat.

That is, until the voluptuous Japanese girl wearing an open, fiery red kimono that bared her chest approached me.

Asian women were one of my many fetishes, right there along with tall skinny blondes and sweaty girls clad in sports bras and yoga pants. This girl had, in my opinion, the ideal body of a stripper: medium height with a solid frame that wasn’t large by any means. Dark eyeshadow and mascara denoted her Asian eyes, and her long black hair was tied in a majestic topknot, which greatly added to her exotic countenance. Her breasts were practically the same size and shape as Amanda’s, which meant that they were 34c’s and perfect in every way.

I studied at her face, and the resemblance to one of my favorite porn stars, Asa Akira, was striking. Amanda and I had enjoying many of Asa Akira’s videos together, and I climaxed more times watching them with my wife than I did viewing them alone!

The Japanese girl’s greeting echoed all of the other girls who had previously approached me, and I began to surmise that they all read from the same script: “Hey, baby. I’m Katana. What’s your name?”

For whatever reason, my initial impulse was to uncharacteristically lie. “Jake.”

Pat and Calvin, who were sitting on either side, both gaped at Katana. She was easily hotter than girl who propositioned us tonight, and Calvin, who had been encouraging me all night, blatantly elbowed me in the ribs.

I shook my head in mock exasperation as Katana laughed and cut right to the point. “Nice to meet you, Jake. So... can I interest you in a private lap dance?”

My friends were making choking sounds, and I peered at Katana’s face once more... and at her incredibly curvy body, which made my cock throb.

“Sure,” I told her.

As I stood up and trailed after Katana, I glanced back to wink at Pat and Calvin.

*********

The VIP Lounge was a large room with comfortable, plush benches that lined the walls. The benches were separated into booths, divided by partitions that were carpeted to give the dancers and their customers some privacy. There were also booths in the center of the lounge, situated in a circular formation. The ambiance was even dimmer here compared to the main part of the club, and mood-setting music pumped in the background.

Katana led me to a corner booth, where she gestured for me to sit. Her bright smile never left her face, and her teeth were so pearly white that they seemed to shine in the dark. As I deposited myself onto the soft bench, I noticed a sign prominently hanging on the wall next to me: $20 for a private lap dance, $30 to touch.

Katana grinned at me girlishly. “I’m SO happy you’re here tonight!” The beautiful and overly bubbly Japanese girl then threw me a smile that was meant to captivate me, and intentionally made a show by slowly removing her kimono, and casting it aside. She coyly stepped towards me, spreading my legs apart as she knelt between them.

Katana had a gorgeous face, and her tits were amazing. I couldn’t help myself. “I’m sure you get this a lot, but you’re superhot.”

She giggled vacuously. “It never gets old.” Then her voice dropped lowly. “What are you in the mood for tonight?”

I squirmed uncomfortably. Her question was to be expected, but it had been so long since I was with a stripper that I felt awkward. And I realized that Katana was as cunning as she was beautiful when sensed my indecisiveness and attempted to take advantage of it. “$200 will get you 30 minutes with me, but we can get a private room for only $300.” She gave me a smoldering her look and wiggled her breasts, but her tone was almost business-like. Clearly, her bargaining skills had been honed from countless previous transactions like this.

But I suddenly felt irritated and arched an eyebrow. “Oh? And what about this?” My tone was more acerbic than I intended as I tapped the large sign next to my head.

Even in the dimness, I could detect the look of annoyance on Katana’s face, and her entire body language changed. “Sure, we can go that route if you like... Jake. $30?”

I leaned back comfortably on the cushions and nodded.

Katana immediately climbed onto my lap and straddled me, and started writhing and gyrating to the beat of the music that was already playing. Her movements were oddly rushed, but her voluptuous body was mere inches from my face, so I didn’t pay it too much attention. My mouth watered, and I resisted the urge to fondle her amazing tits. Behind Katana, I could see other girls servicing their customers in the background. Just as I slowly reached out to touch her, Katana suddenly rose to her feet and spun around. She turned her head back to me and struck a sexy posture before bending over, giving me a clear view of her round ass and thong.

I smiled appreciatively.

Katana continued to dance and pose for me, but when the music abruptly stopped, so did she. Her mannerisms were a bit stand-offish as she said to me brusquely, “That’s it.”

I stared at her, perturbed. “But that was barely a minute.”

“The private lap dances only last for 1 song.”

“But the song was almost over before you even started!”

The Japanese girl shrugged as she quickly dressed herself. “Sorry, house rules.”

I opened my mouth for a retort, but bit my tongue. No point in causing a scene, or getting kicked out of the place while my friends were still enjoying themselves. I fished my wallet from my pocket, took out $30, and hastily handed it to Katana.

She took my money and promptly escorted me out of the VIP Lounge.

*********

Pat and Calvin were acting like schoolboys in heat when I returned.

“Well, how was she?” Calvin demanded.

“She was hot. Nice ass. Huge tits.” They didn’t notice the terseness of my responses.

“She had fantastic tits!” Pat corrected me. “The best ones I’ve seen all night. Fuck, I bet touching them was worth the 30 bucks!”

I suddenly realized something and swore.

My friends looked sharply at me. “What?” Calvin asked.

I mentally pictured the sign in my head as I read it in a low mutter: “$20 for a private lap dance, $30 to touch. Damn it, that bitch didn’t even let me touch her.” But Pat and Calvin couldn’t hear me over the background noise, and I waved my hand dismissively.

My friends shrugged and returned to staring at the girls around us.

*********

The girls of the Watering Hole continued to come at us in a steady stream. After Katana, who had the gall to approach me again, I was done with private lap dances for the night. But Pat and Calvin were still enjoying themselves, so I forced a smile on my face and bided my time patiently for their benefit.

I once again thought about Amanda’s curiosity regarding the interactions that occurred within a strip club, and I looked over at the next table. There was a party of 8 men, and they appeared to be celebrating a special occasion. A bachelor party, I surmised, or maybe a birthday. They were raucous and clearly drunk, and spending money as easily as if they were breathing air. I periodically observed them throughout the night, and guessed that they had already spent thousands of dollars on girls and alcohol.

I shook my head dubiously.

*********

Perhaps I was merely showing my age or getting increasingly irritated with the aggressiveness of the girls, but I was itching to leave. The pretty girls and their flesh were barely registering on me anymore, and all I could think about was Amanda, and how crawling into bed with her seem like such a wonderful idea at this point.

I was about to suggest going home soon when Calvin suddenly whooped excitedly. The emcee had just announced that Luna, Calvin’s first girl of the night who was still his favorite, would be performing on the main stage in 10 minutes. He immediately went to find a seat, no doubt to shower her with his attention and more money. Pat got up to go with him, but when he looked at me questioningly, I merely smiled encouragingly and waved my friend on.

In my brief moment of solitude, I imagined Amanda strutting onto the main stage before a packed house, clad in sexy lingerie that I had recently purchased for her. My penis stiffened as much as it had all night, and I could only imagine the reaction the audience would have for her... the palpable lust that they would feel for my hot wife.

I was wearing a dreamy smile on my face when yet another Watering Hole girl approached me, interrupting my erotic fantasy. Pale-skinned with short black hair in a pixie cut, this one sported black eyeshadow and matching lipstick, and piercings in her eyebrow, nose, upper lip, and tongue. She wore a policewoman outfit that included a hat, an unbuttoned top that left her tits hanging out, a short black skirt, and fishnet stockings. Her wrists were bound in handcuffs that were connected by a long chain. However, what stood out to me most was her exhausted expression.