Not Letting Go Ch. 01

I woke up that Friday morning to a day like every other. I was up at my normal 4:00am to get ready to go to the mill and put in my normal 14-hour day. My wife, as usual, rolled over and growled at me, sick of hearing the alarm at that time of the morning. I'm surprised we don't sleep in two different rooms!

It was only going to be my 12th long day in a row, leaving me with a free weekend. This was, again, the norm. In order to get a great paycheck, one has to work! Plus, there was a great benefit to this kind of a schedule and where I work: I'm just 6 short years away from retirement at age 50!

My day at the mill is strenuous. I'm an engineering manager, so I don't actually work the machines. Instead I supervise the department and all its workers. I have to deal with all of the issues on our older machines that pop up every day. I also try to help motivate the union employees to actually do something while they are being paid to be at work. Meetings, planning, and application. In other words, I am constantly moving for whatever time I'm working.

My wife Carol is a stock broker and under constant pressure. Her firm is constantly pushing her to bring in as much as possible, and with her personality she is more than up for the challenge! Unfortunately her competitive spirit didn't end at work. In the beginning of our relationship it was a real turn on to have someone as energetic and motivated as her, but as the years went on and my job drained me more and more every day, it became a liability.

Our two children are out of college and stable in their own lives. We were high school sweethearts and parents before graduation; married with a bulge. I went to the mill right out of school and she went to college. Living with her parents helped in raising our first child, and even more when she became pregnant with our second. She went on a better birth control after that, one that was implanted in her arm. I also went to school, but after being at the mill for a year so they'd pay most of the bill.

Needless to say income isn't much of an issue between us. I'm never around to spend it, but she is since she's trying to live the lifestyle of a successful stock broker. Arguments frequently erupted about her spending habits, but since she was still only spending a portion of what she took in they never went too far.

The biggest problem between us was the lack of time we spent together. Two successful adults constantly working and/or sleeping (the real sleep) took its toll. When the kids were around I spent as much as time as I could in their lives. Now that they're gone things are different. Vacations that we do take are almost sterile. The romance seems to be dead and we're just going through the motions.

It's surprising we haven't talked about separation but neither of us, I suspect, really wants to go down that path. It's almost like that episode of Night Court where an 80-something-year old couple that fought tooth and nail came up before Judge Stone. He asked them why they don't get a divorce and they replied, "We're waiting for the children to die!"

Sex was...sparse to ultra rare. If you're asking why I don't call it "making love" then you haven't been reading! Carol had her drawer full of toys and I assume she used them when I wasn't around. Regina and Levina (think about it) visited me once in a while but seriously, I was too tired to employ their services often.

In other words, we were stale and growing moldy. Having a weekend off wasn't even enough to do more than make me excited for sleep. So when I returned home that Friday and found my excited wife begging me to go out with her that night I was less than enthused. The dress she was wearing, however, piqued my interest.

"Jim, we need to do something! We barely spend any time together anymore!"

"And you think that going to some overcrowded, noisy bar is going to change that?"

"This place is different. It's quieter and filled with successful people. You'll enjoy it! Come on!?"

She stood there in her, I assume, new dress seductively wiggling at me. Her right leg was raised slightly and crossed a bit over her left. Her chest was puffed out and straining to remain covered. The dress was spectacular! It was an elegant, black strapless one which was wrapped tightly around her lithe, small body. Thin, short, and showing every curve, including her large breasts and outlines of her nipples, it was very enticing. Her sides were bare, and a few moments later I found out her lower back was also bare. The hem came to just below her hips. Her dark hair was done up with clips in a very seductive way. Her hands were clasped in a classic prayer formation, twisting left and right, and she was biting her lip.

She never needed my permission to go out and enjoy herself and frequently did so without me. So somehow this begging was turning me on.

"I won't be much company tonight. Are you sure you'd want to drag me along?"

"It's a special night. You WILL be perfect company tonight and enjoy yourself, I promise!"

She was still keeping her begging stance and it finally got to me. "Fine. I might need some coffee in me to last a bit."

"We'll see... I have your clothes out for you on the bed. Go and shower...we leave in an hour!"

"We'll see? I may need the coffee to keep me awake in the shower!"

"GO!"

There she was, the boss in her own mind! I trudged to the bedroom, stripping off as I went but careful as always to no throw my clothing around. In the bedroom I saw what she had selected for me. A black shirt, slacks, and suit coat. The bed was made and the comforter was missing. She must have been in a hurry changing the sheets.

"Dear, are we going to a surprise funeral?" I called out to her.

"Shut up and get ready!"

"Ma'am, yes ma'am!" I yelled back. I wasn't sure what to make of this change in her attitude. It was surprising and very refreshing. I was suddenly a little worried about what she had in store. I hoped that I could last at least some of the night.

15 minutes later I was drying off and walking over to get dressed. Carol caught me. "Uh-uh!! Go and shave!"

"Do I really need to?" My beard was slow growing and I only had a 5-day shadow, so some stubble.

"Yes! Now snap to it!"

"If you insist..." I went to the sink and lathered up as Carol ripped off my towel. "Enjoying yourself?"

She answered by reaching out to caress my member. "You might say that!"

"What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing... yet!" she said with a flirtatious smile while starting to stroke me.

"If you want me to do this without blood you might want to let me concentrate."

She just looked at me thoughtfully, still stroking me for a moment, looking back and forth between the razor and my crotch. I almost thought she was going to drop right there, but she finally let go. I guess her plans were more important. "Ok, get ready!"

She turned to leave the room but stopped at the door. I saw her arms move and she turned around with her phone in the air. I stood straight to protest and didn't even get a word out when I heard the electronic shutter noise as she took a picture and skipped quickly out of the room.

So it took me an entire 45 minutes to get ready to go. What guy needs a whole hour? As I walked out into the living room, Carol let out a whistle. I guess she approved.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"It's a surprise! I'm positive you'll like it!" Just then a car horn went off outside. I craned my head quizzically at her sudden smile. "She's early! Let's go!"

"Who's early?"

Carol didn't answer me, just dragged me outside. I locked the door and turned towards Carol, seeing her reaching the originator of the offending noise and giving that source a big hug.

"Mon, thanks for doing this!" Carol said with her arms wrapped around her friend Monica. Carol had her heels on, which made her a whole 5'7" to Monica's 5'9", also in heels. Also dressed in black, Monica wore a short skirt with a blazer and silky blouse of some sort underneath it. I mean, I don't have x-ray eyes, although with that outfit I almost wish I did! She had her black hair up and under her cap. "Jim!" Carol said hitting me.

"I'm sorry, was I drooling?" I asked smiling. "What's going on here?"

"Mon agreed to drive us."

"Well that explains her cap." It was a chauffeur's hat. I handed her the keys.

"Someone's got to stay sober tonight and I didn't want to trust a cab. Besides, Mon here needed a night out as well."

I looked over at Monica, "Really? Why's that?"

"Duh! It's Friday!" she replied.

"Oh, silly me! Now, where are we going?"

"In the direction the car takes us, Mr. Wilson," said Monica winking.

I rolled my eyes as she opened the back passenger door to our limo stand in: our Lexus which is appropriately and conveniently enough colored black. I slid in. The door closed and Monica got in to drive. Carol got in the front passenger seat.

"Not really appropriate for us to mix with the help in the front seat, is it?" I asked.

I earned a sour tongue from Carol for that. "She's a volunteer, not the hired help!" Carol told me. "It's going to be a while until we arrive since it's on the other side of the city. If you want to take a nap, go ahead," she added.

I took her up on the offer while she chatted away with her friend, our driver.

~~~

I must have been really out of it because the next thing I knew I had a woman blowing in each ear as I was waking up. I opened my eyes and each gave me a peck on a cheek and smiled at me.

"You were really out of it!" Carol said. "I gave you a blow job and you didn't even know it!"

I suddenly looked mortified as I turned to Monica and looked down. Both gals laughed as I breathed a sigh of relief and joined their jocularity. I yawned and looked around, completely unfamiliar with our surroundings. Wherever we were, it was very nice. We were in a parking lot of a large brick building. All of the cars around us told me Carol was right about the upscale clientele. Porches, Teslas, actual limousines, and other pricey vehicles were everywhere.

"Ok, you have to tell me what's going on eventually."

"We're at a very exclusive club and are going to enjoy ourselves. That's all you need to know right now. The rest you'll find out soon enough!"

Monica took off her hat and tossed it onto the driver's seat. "Let's go already!" Carol reached out for my hands, taking hold of them and pulled me out of the car. Monica handed me the keys after she locked the doors.

It was then that I noticed the lack of normal female accoutrements. "Leaving something behind?"

"Everything we need is in your wallet. We're good to go!"

Carol and Monica each stood next to me as I offered my arms to them, allowing me to walk to the entrance arm in arm with these raven haired beauties. They were playing it up, too, hugging in as closely as they could. It felt wonderful and I was getting a few jealous looks as we approached. Not many as it turned out, because I was not the only one clad in beautiful ladies!

We entered to find a, for lack of a better term, maître d' with a couple of well dressed body guards in front of another door. Carol stepped up to the man, pulled a card out of her top, and said, "Carol Wilson plus 2."

The man swiped her card and looked at a monitor hidden in the podium. Looking up he smiled, waiving his hand and turning toward the door. "Welcome, Ms. Wilson," he said. Carol went toward the inside doors as the body guards opened them, taking her card back as she passed. We followed and caught up with her, Monica with a smile that would have been made the Cheshire Cat jealous and me confused and still a bit tired.

Carol handed me the card and just said, "Wallet." I took it but didn't instantly comply.

That confusion only deepened as I took in the scene around me. There was a stage in the center with café tables and booths everywhere. Well dressed people were littered around the scene. It was elegant and well decorated.

Then, and I instantly felt stupid for taking this long to notice it, I saw the serving staff. Topless women and men in banana hammocks, what little clothing they wore black with white accents as if it was some sort of tuxedo attire, were walking around taking and delivering orders. Well, I say the women were topless, but not all were. Those with larger breasts were wearing a sort of a supporting bra with no cups, only supporting underneath.

I looked at Carol. "Want to tell me now?"

She just shook her head and led us to a booth. Monica took off her blazer and placed it on the edge of the table, revealing a low cut, thin silk top with spaghetti straps. She and Carol piled into the booth next to each other. I pulled out my wallet to put the card inside, only now seeing all of the cash Carol had obviously put inside. The card was gold in color with a magnetic strip on the back. It had the words "Mont Claire" in a small but elegant script printed in black on the front. I sat next to Carol, taking a look at the table where I saw a card with Carol's name on it. "Come on!"

Carol just shook her head, and then looked up at a server who approached our booth.

"Welcome to the Mont Claire. I am Charise. What can I get for you?" our waitress asked. She was stacked and wearing the lifting but exposing bra. Small nipples pointed out at me, begging to be licked. Red hair topped her head with ruby earrings dangling from her ears. She looked very fit and evenly, but lightly, tanned. I felt my mouth going dry.

Carol spoke up right away. "I will have a Bailey's on the rocks, she will have a Margarita, and he will have a Hawaiian Hit, no ice." That's my girl, taking charge.

"A 'Hawaiian Hit'?" Monica asked Carol.

"Vodka, grenadine, and pineapple and orange juices."

"Ooh, that sounds good!" She looked up at the server. "Change the Margarita to one of those, please! With ice."

"Very good, I'll be back soon," she said turning around.

"Why is it called that?" asked Monica.

"Because 'Punch' is already taken and too easily confused with the kids' beverage!" Carol replied.

"I thought you were here to drive us home? Doesn't that mean sober?" I asked.

"One drink now and by the time we leave I'll be sober again. I will take the breathalyzer test at the door before we leave."

I nodded and looked around. No one was getting a lap dance or any other lewd conduct. It was an elegant club with scantily clad staff. Carol and Monica started talking, almost ignoring me. The drinks arrived a few minutes later and I got out my wallet. "How much?"

Charise held up a hand. "No, sir. There is a tab on your membership."

I just looked at Carol and mouthed "membership?" She smiled, looking at me while cocking her head down to her drink. You know, that sexy look! I looked back at Charise. "What about tips?" I didn't notice a tip jar.

Charise just smiled a little and looked down. "At your pleasure sir."

I looked down and realized I must be more tired than I thought. There were a couple of bills sticking out of her panties... her panties that had her name embroidered on them in one of the white fringes. "At my pleasure or yours?" I asked her.

She smiled even wider. "Whichever you like, sir!"

I smiled back and pulled out a $10, using two fingers and my thumb to approach her "tip jar". As I approached, my fingers and the bill went inside while the thumb stayed out to put it in under the fabric. Admittedly I copped a feel of her bare flesh underneath as I put it somewhat deeply into her uniform. She just smiled at me and slightly licked her lips. "Thank you, sir."

I did not see the smile shared between my dates.

"You're not supposed to feel up the help, James!" Carol said.

Red faced, I turned to her. "I, uh..."

She was looking at me with a very stern face, but couldn't hold it long before she laughed. "It's fine as long as you don't openly grope and the server is accommodating."

I felt Charise next to my ear and heard her whisper, "It was my pleasure, sir!" She walked away.

It was now 10pm and a voice came over the PA system. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Mont Claire! We are proud to present its opening act!" To the point. I guessed that the regulars had a clue...

Carol mumbled something to Monica and nodded toward me. Monica had a nervous look on her face. She quickly moved out of the booth to the other side of me. I had a beautiful woman on either side of me to watch whatever show was about to unfold. Both of them moved close and leaned against me, Monica still a bit concerned about something. In order to make things more comfortable for all three of us, I put an arm around each.

The curtains drew and six identically dressed women stood on the stage. Dressed might be overstating it, since they were wearing very little. Each wore heels with thigh-high stockings held up by garters, very lacy panties, a bustier, bow tie, top hat, and cane. Their costumes were bright white and I could swear all six women were very white themselves. Maybe that was just the lights or maybe a bit of makeup.

They just stood still, heads down, holding the canes in front of them with the bottoms touching the floor. As soon as the music started they started a very erotic dance number. High kicks, use of their canes and the poles on stage as well as the chairs. The hats were the first to fly off behind the stage.

A little while later three women stepped behind the other three and unfastened the bustier of their partner. Those three then returned the favor and the six of them danced a bit, arms holding the loosened garments in place before ripping them off and quickly covering the exposed bits with their hands. Monica gasped. I looked at her and noticed her eyes glued to the stage. A glance at my wife found her almost as enraptured.

As the dance continued and hands fell to reveal, the women started using the chairs on stage Cabaret style, legs spread wide much of the time. Soon the song was over and the women stayed where they were, panting to their exercise and beaming from the applause.

The music started again, lower and a bit more aggressive, but the women remained still. Instead three men came out on stage wearing black top hats, suit jackets, and pants. They were, in contrast to the women, very tan. They started dancing around the women, losing their top hats early on. Soon their jackets left as well, revealing well muscled chests. Carol was ooh-ing and ah-ing along with most of the women in the audience! Monica had her mouth open without a sound.

A hand landed in my lap that I hoped was Carol's, and a quick glance revealed it was. A quick look around revealed this was common. I also noticed the men around the club showing their ladies a little attention, so my left hand went to Carol's chest. She began to stroke me slowly and I started to respond. I stole a quick look at Monica who seemed to be mesmerized by the performance on stage.

I looked back at the stage. The women were unaffected by the dance, or very well trained not to look. The men's pants were last to go in this dance, revealing thongs underneath. Gasps from my gals and most of the audience along with some cheers and hoots rang out. I also felt a second hand in my lap! This was indeed not Carol's! I looked down and saw that the hands were touching and Carol did not push Monica's away. I responded more vigorously.

Carol's lips came to my ear. "Put your hand on Mon's tit, too!"

I quickly turned my head toward her in shock. She looked up at me with that look on her face that said she meant business. She nodded, watching my other hand until I complied.

Monica jumped at my touch but pressed her chest into my hand. She turned her head toward me and licked my ear while moaning into it. She also didn't wear a bra and felt wonderful to my touch.

The music stopped and I looked back to the stage. The men had each stood between two of the women, a hand on a shoulder of each. Applause had broken out again, giving another small pause to the entertainers. Hands returned to my crotch and the ladies' breasts. Their ministrations increased.