On The Road to Dublin Pt. 02

"For two months everything worked well. She kept her costumes at the club, had no contact with the club's customers outside of the club, and worked hard at her interior design business three days a week. She was home with her husband six nights a week and he was none the wiser. According to her, they were happy.

"One of her husband's friends told her later that there was a Tuesday afternoon her husband was sitting in Christensen's Bar & Grill having a beer with the guys and they got to talking about the good looking redhead that a couple of them had seen at the Gentleman's Club up on I-75 north of town. When Grover mentioned she only performed on Wednesday nights her husband got real quiet and left the bar soon after. It had apparently dawned on him that Rachel had been out late every Wednesday for the last two months, supposedly meeting clients who couldn't meet during the day.

"The next night Rachel's husband was sitting right down front at the stage when she began her first set. She didn't recognize him during the first and second songs because of the lights and his baseball cap. Only as she lay naked on her back with her legs in the air, pushing her panties off did she realize her husband was watching.

"When he stood and pulled off the cap, his eyes boring into hers, she could see all the pain of her betrayal and deception in his eyes, mixed with the tears. His shoulders slumped and he turned and walked out without a word. She jumped off the stage to go after him and twisted her ankle. By the time she'd hobbled to the parking lot, naked and crying his name, he was gone. She knelt on the asphalt, sobbing until Greg picked her up and carried her back into the club.

"Through the whole divorce her husband never spoke to her and never once looked at her face. They had loved each other and each lost a part of their souls.

"That's why I was so frightened about how you would react last night. I found out that I needn't have feared. My husband is a much stronger, more loving man than Rachel's husband was. I never knew before just how strong and secure a man you are. I'm luckier than I ever realized.

I appreciated what she was saying even though I thought she was troweling it on pretty thick.

"Anyway, Rachel still had to eat and keep a roof over her head, so she settled into a routine of working Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights at the club and being an interior designer by day. Her business grew and prospered but she hung onto her hours at the club because - well because she had that need to show herself. Indulging that need made her a happier person. For Rachel it was that simple.

"Miss Rachel listened as I gave her the short version of my story. Then she read me the riot act for even thinking about deceiving you. She warned me to not make the same mistake she'd made with her husband. I promised her, cross my heart, to tell you everything. Afterward she listed the things we had to do to make my performance happen.

"The first thing she said I needed was to get sugared.

"Then she needed to teach me some things about playing to my audience.

"I needed costuming, nails, makeup, and a thousand other things. We arranged for props and lighting with Hal and the DJ.

"Who knew taking your clothes off was so complicated?"

"What's sugaring?" I'd not heard of it before.

Lynne explained, "It's like waxing except they use a ball of nearly solid honey and it's way less painful. The girls do it for each other in the dressing room to save money.

"Greg had told Rachel that I was in 'serious need' of a Brazilian. That meant removing all the hair from around my kitty and backside. I kept a close-trimmed landing strip at the top because Rachel said men like that and a successful performance is all about pleasing the men.

"She had me strip and get on the table while they warmed everything up. I felt like such a bad girl lying there naked with my knees up while other women came in and out from their performances. The process was a little uncomfortable but not painful. She showed me how sexy it looked with a mirror. When I started to get up, she stopped me and said to wait just a minute for final inspection.

"Greg walked in bold as brass with that grin of his. I was lying there with my knees up and legs wide open and he just walked over and stared down at my kitty. I couldn't help it, I got wet instantly. He pulled the handkerchief from the lapel pocket of his jacket and patted me dry. He held the handkerchief to his nose and inhaled, smiling. Then he softly stroked his hand between my legs without even asking. I was already so turned on by everything that had happened and his inhaling the scent of my arousal, my hips bucked completely off the table all by themselves, pressing my sex hard into the palm of his hand. I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. I was so embarrassed.

"He told Rachel I looked nice and walked out."

I was not happy. "This guy's making a habit of feeling up my wife. I'd hate to have to hurt him."

My response startled Lynne. "Oh god, no honey. I promise you that won't be necessary. Not at all. He doesn't mean anything to me. This is all just about performing, nothing else."

"Lynne, honey, I'm not worried about your intentions. This guy wants you. He wants you in the worst way. What you've told me and what I saw last night of his behavior onstage leaves no doubt he wants in your pants. Again, that is. And if he ever tries that again I'll hurt him. Once is art, twice is erotic, three times is war."

"You couldn't hurt him, he's a Ranger. He'd cripple you - or kill you. Besides, he'll never get another chance. There's nothing for you to worry about, I promise."

Can't say I was all that thrilled about her lack of faith in my physical abilities or how impressed she was with his. I swing a mean briefcase. For now I wanted to hear the rest of the story.

"I hear ya. If you say it's not a problem, it's not a problem. What happened next?"

"Are you sure you want to hear the rest of it? You just scared me and I'm not sure telling you the rest is a good idea. I had hoped this could be an adventure we could share and enjoy together but you're being all mad and jealous."

"Any more of Greg putting his hands between your legs?"

Lynne stared hard at me for a few seconds before saying, "No. You already know about every time Greg touched me down there."

"Good enough. What happened next?" I made a mental note to think more later about that delay in her answer.

She took a few seconds to remember where her narrative had left off, then, "It was late afternoon by the time we'd completed everything on Rachel's checklist and she had done her best to turn me into an instant pro.

"The Friday afternoon regulars had drifted in and Hal and Rachel decided it was time. I didn't tell them but I was losing my nerve. I was so scared of what you would think and I was having doubts that I could actually take my clothes off with all those men watching.

"But everybody had worked so hard to make it possible for me to do this. I knew I'd absolutely never have another chance as good. After talking with Rachel and watching her perform, I was absolutely on fire with the need to let myself be seen naked. It's something I just can't explain. I certainly don't understand it.

"My first performance was not the same as the one you saw in the video last night. The music was a soft classical piece I'd not heard before. The clothes were the same but my hair was up. I used a scarf at Rachel's suggestion to cover my kitty so I could simulate my orgasms. That didn't work out well. The scarf was awkward and I was so hot I couldn't keep my hands off myself anyway. My orgasms were all real and wonderful.

"It helped in the enjoyment of my adventure that I had lots of orgasms. Powerful ones, gentle ones. I didn't need to fake a single one of my climaxes."

I was at a loss for a snappy comment. I didn't even know what to ask. I mean, it was all pretty black and white, wasn't it? Nothing she'd said was in Latin. Had she found it necessary to fake an orgasm the day before, or a couple last week? Maybe all the ones this year? Did she realize how her comment would sound to her husband? Something else to think about.

She was so happy thinking about her experience I don't think she even noticed my silence.

"The biggest difference between the first and second performances was that there was no mystery man in the first performance. The performance ended when I dashed back to the dressing table after hearing footsteps.

"Once I got started it just felt right. Taking my clothes off with all those men watching was thrilling. I was so turned on my heart was pounding out of my chest. My nipples were harder than I can remember them ever being before and so, so sensitive. I was so wet it was leaking down my thigh.

"The men loved it. They clapped and whistled and cheered and threw money on the stage. Every man I could see had a tent in the front of his pants. My body caused all of those erections. It was so wickedly erotic, knowing every one of them wanted to take me. I've never felt more desirable, more purely sexy.

"Backstage, Hal said he'd noticed nearly every man in the audience using their cell phones after my performance. He thought they were calling their friends to come see my next performance. He predicted we were about to be hit by an avalanche.

"He was right. The club was filling up fast. The DJ announced that my second and final performance would be at 8:00 and by 7:00 all the seats were filled and men were standing around the walls. And a good many of the men had brought their wives or girlfriends. That surprised me.

"Hal asked if there would be any changes for the next performance and we discussed several new things. The music was changed to a mellow instrumental jazz. I chose to wear my hair down, get rid of the scarf, and switch to a black satin thong Rachel had.

"The most important change was the addition of a man. I explained to Hal and Rachel that the whole performance was a re-enactment of what I'd been doing in our bedroom for the past year. Recently I've been fantasizing about you walking in, realizing what I was doing and fondling me erotically while our neighbors watched.

"I asked Hal to stand in for you and was a little surprised when Rachel spoke up saying it was a great idea but not with Hal. She said Greg would be a much better choice and Hal quickly agreed.

"I was hesitant about performing with Greg because of how I had responded to him earlier. Then Rachel pointed out the man needed a tux to fit in with my dress and Hal didn't have a tux but Greg did. It was either Greg or nobody. So I agreed." Lynne was watching my face closely as she explained.

"Why was Rachel trying so hard to put you and Greg together?" It looked to me like everybody wanted my wife to hook up with that wolf. Well, everybody but me.

Lynne was smiling at me and I asked what was so damn funny.

"You're jealous! That's so sweet. Honey, Rachel wasn't trying to put me together with Greg or anyone else. She was keeping Hal away from me. Rachel and Hal got married. And she has a strict hands off rule for Hal with the girls. No exceptions."

"I don't blame her one bit. I'm thinking real hard about having the same rule for my wife."

"Oh, love, there's no need for that. Please don't. This isn't something I will ever try to hide from you again. Please just enjoy the thrill with me. It's something I need to do. Try to understand that. We can't pretend I don't have that need."

I told her I was more okay with the showing than with the touching. I found the idea of men looking at her exciting, but touching? Not so much.

"Seeing another man touching me last night seemed to get you hot. And I have to tell you, as much as I enjoy my husband making sweet love to me, last night I just wanted my lover so aroused he'd screw my brains out. I needed that - and will need it again. I'm greedy; I want both."

I tried to think; not easy with a beautiful woman's big brown eyes pleading with you and her dainty hand massaging your testicles. Nossiree, not easy at all. Not fair either. Sure as hell she was trying to get Junior to cast a proxy vote for us both.

She watched my eyes intently as she dealt her next card. Off the bottom of the deck.

"If you insist, I'll go back to the way I behaved our whole marriage up until yesterday. It'd be hard but I'd do it rather than make you unhappy with me." Then she just waited me out.

"Tell you what. Let's just file that under 'pending business' and come back to it later. I'd like to hear the rest of your adventure before we make any decisions about future adventures, please." She nodded, accepting that answer for now, but I knew the topic was on her agenda for discussion again real soon.

" Okay." She took a deep breath. "We ran over to Greg's place for him to change into his tux and do some rehearsing."

"You went to his apartment?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"We were short on time since the DJ had already announced my next performance. So while he changed I gave him a quick run-through on what I needed from him."

"While he changed? Where were you?"

"Now honey, here you go again, getting all upset for nothing. You . . ."

"Lynne! Where?"

"I couldn't very well shout at him and I needed to show him what I wanted."

"Third time: Where were you while he took his clothes off?" Alarm bells.

"In his bedroom." Small voice, eyes averted. She saw my reaction and tried to head it off.

"Don't worry, we were adult about it. Since he'd seen me naked several times, it didn't matter if I saw him naked."

"Nakd? You don't have to get naked to put on a tux! Why in hell was he naked?" Picture steam coming out my nostrils.

She got an unmistakably dreamy, far-away look on her face.

"He always goes commando. Hon, nothing happened and I didn't even look at his huge thingy, at all, hardly."

I stared in disbelief. Who was this woman? Then she giggled.

"You think this is funny, dammit?"

"What's funny is you, silly man. You are so, so incredibly easy. I promised I wouldn't leave the club last night and I didn't. Greg is the last person I'd have gone with anywhere alone. I've already told you I was concerned about how I'd been reacting to him.

"Oh."

"Back to my story. I gave Greg a brief explanation of what I needed him to do and, while he ran home to change, I got my hair redone and got dressed.

"I was more confident in the second show. I had a few flutters knowing I'd be taking off my panties with all those men watching. And I was anticipating Greg holding me and kissing me, all with hundreds of guys watching. So, even with a few flutters, I was more turned on than I can put into words.

"For a woman, knowing that her body is causing hundreds of men to get hard and even making some of them cum, is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

"When Greg walked onstage and came to me, the whole atmosphere in the room changed. He wrapped his arms around me, kissing my neck. The plan went off the rails when he cupped my breasts. The letch was just supposed to wrap his arms around my waist, not grope me. As I explained last night I turned to get his hands off my chest and all the kissing got to me so I turned back to the audience with my own hands covering my breasts and the weasel caught me off guard and stuck his hand in my panties, um, actually in my kitty. I tried to resist, but everything was happening so fast and I was so turned on. The audience response was electric and it all just got away from me. I went from thinking 'he's not supposed to do that' to a full knee-buckling, earth shaking string of rolling orgasms in just seconds. I remember thinking I ought to stick my hand down the front of his pants to embarrass him so he'd get out of my panties. I didn't know until I watched the video with you that I'd actually done it.

"Then I fainted, dead away. He held me up so I wouldn't flop on the floor and ruin the performance. He casually lifted me over to the dressing table chair and sat me down. I woke up in the chair with him holding me in place, actually holding my breasts in place, and the crowd roaring.

"I guess, since he knew he'd sandbagged me, he tried to make amends. As soon as I regained my balance he got off the stage.

"Honey, I know how that scene must have looked to you. Even I was shocked by the video. Please believe me that I didn't intend what happened with Greg. It was supposed to just look erotic, not actually be pornographic.

"If that weasel had just stuck to the script none of the bad stuff would have happened. I know I crossed a line you trusted I would never cross. I'm genuinely sorry that I got myself into a circumstance with Greg which made it possible. If you do agree to future adventures I'll be careful that I don't get into such a circumstance again." As she spoke, she searched my face for any indication of my feelings.

"Lynne, love, I could see in the video last night that you were caught by surprise and did your best to resist. I get that. I'll admit I feel as though I've been 'pole axed'. My emotions are a mess right now. I've got pride, love, jealousy, fear, lust and another dozen emotions racing around inside me like squirrels playing tag on a tree trunk. You did things yesterday that I would never in a million years have believed my wife could or would do. I know we'd have problems if you wanted to make a habit of working like Rachel. I want you to be sexy and for us to have fun with your exhibitionist urges but I hope you're not angling toward telling me you want to be a regular at the club."

"Nope, but I could get all excited about doing the Interior Design thing."

"Forget about it. You browsing through furniture stores scares me worse than having you prancing around in your birthday suit." We both laughed.

"Shucks. Oh! I have a treat for you. Among other things, I learned how to do a lap dance yesterday. As your reward for being so understanding about all this I'd like to give you a special lap dance. Okay?"

Let's see - I'm a guy being offered a free lap dance by a beautiful woman who loves me and wants to 'reward me'. Hmmmm, tough choice.

"Damn right. Get to it, woman!"

She positioned me in the middle of the love seat, facing the window, then backed away to the center of the living room. Somehow her appearance changed from pretty to sultry just by something in her eyes. She pressed a button on the stereo remote and tossed it into the recliner.

Mellow jazz filled the room and called to mind all the erotic memories of my wife from last night.

She spread her feet apart and slid her hands from her hips, up the outside of her breasts and lifted her hair up off her neck, turning her back to me. As she stood gazing out the window her hips swayed hypnotically to the music. She bent forward gliding her hands down the front of her skirt to her ankles, drawing her skirt tight across her shapely bottom.

Pulling the ribbon tie as she stood, the skirt slid down her long legs. She came to me wearing only her blouse, panties, stockings and heels and pushed my knees wide as she knelt in front of me.

Lynne's hands massaged and squeezed her breasts then smoothly slid from my knees to my thighs to greet Junior gently. Then, returning her hands to my knees she rubbed her breasts over my crotch and up my chest, pulling back just as I tried to take a nipple in my lips. Her warm breath tickled my neck as she slid back down my chest and stood facing me.

One by one, the buttons of her blouse yielded as she swayed to the jazz. As she reached the top Lynne turned to the window, pulled her blouse open wide and let it slide from her shoulders to join the skirt.