Stretching the Boundaries

When the music got faster, I threw off what little clothing remained and rolled over onto my back to face my first customer. He was a burly guy surrounded by his raucous drinking buddies. He could have been my plumber, but it was my crack that was showing. I froze him to his seat with a stare, then I put first one leg and then the other on his shoulders so that he was looking right into my dripping pussy. I pointed to the garter belt only inches from his face. He stuffed a bill in to the approval of the crowd. I didn't recognize the denomination of the currency, but it didn't matter. I was now a professional.

I rolled over onto my knees for the next customer and pushed my nipples up to his lips. He kissed one before I leaned back just out of reach and pointed to the bill in my garter belt. He stuffed another one in beside the first and I turned to the next man. He was ready for me with a bill in his teeth. I got on my hands and knees to back up into his face. He was only inches from my pussy and asshole when he slipped his bill under the elastic band that I held open for him. If he had whipped out his cock, I would have let him fuck me right there on the stage.

Some jobs are more exciting than others. I was beginning to understand why Reema preferred being a stripper part time to a graduate teaching assistant full time.

Each man was getting bolder than the last. I was getting lots of bills stuffed under my garter and some just thrown on the stage, but I was also getting perilously close to the line that would get me thrown out of the club. Fortunately, the set ended and Reema came to my rescue. We picked up the bills and wiped up the slick secretions that I had dripped on the stage.

I rushed up to Stephen with a wad of money in my hand and more in the ruffled elastic band on my leg. He helped me smooth out the dress that I had barely thrown on backstage.

I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. I told him that I wanted him to take me back to the hotel right that instant and fuck me. He just smiled. I was so hot for cock that I would have jumped on the next one I saw.

That's when Reema took me by the elbow.

"Your first customer is waiting for you."

She flashed me a broad smile. The wink she gave Steven confirmed my suspicions of a conspiracy.

"Trust Reema." He said. "She'll find you someone nice."

All my reason said stop but my desire was overwhelming. That's when Morris' comment came back to me.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't like to watch."

Would Morris want me to fuck a stranger in a high class strip club? The answer was easy. I followed Reema to the private area.

He was only a little older than I was. He was bald except for a little rim of hair starting just above his ears. He looked to be in relatively good shape, but he still had a bit of a pot belly on him. He was attractive in his own way, but I didn't even know his name and there was money laying on the table for me. I didn't have to do this, certainly not for the money. He had a kind face. Reema would be waiting outside the door, which was reassuring. I decided to follow my desires and go for it.

I had learned a lot from watching Reema earlier in the evening. Fifteen minutes should feel like an hour, but they'll knock anyway. The club has to keep the rooms open for the next customers. Reema knocked just as he shot his load into the condom I remembered to put on him. He slowly eased his cock out of my pussy. I looked down at him and kissed the top of his smooth head gently. My chest was still flushed from my orgasm. A real live orgasm. Not many pro's do that for their customers. He thanked me and said I was the best he'd had at this club. I took it as the complement that it was.

I wouldn't be satisfied until I'd gotten Steven's cock inside me, but there was more business to do before we could leave. Part of the money was turned over to the management for overhead. The results of the contests were announced and the prizes awarded. The winner of the grand prize was a stunning blond in her 20's who could actually dance. I would have voted for her. I won a runner-up prize of some sort and was proud of it. I wanted to show it to Morris, as soon as I could figure out how to tell him what I'd done to win it.

What was left of the night was spent in Steven's room. I don't recall all of the details, but it was not like at home. Morris and I had settled into a tennis match approach to sex. One of us took the initiative to serve and then we volleyed back and forth from the baseline until we both scored. Each of us knew the other's favorite strokes. Steven was new to me so his moves were unpredictable. I don't remember who had the most orgasms – I wasn't counting – but we were both exhausted toward the end and fell into a deep sleep wrapped together in a ball of nude flesh.

*****

My eyes snapped open. The curtains were drawn apart. The room was flooded with light. The sun had been up for hours while we slept off the effects of the previous night's partying. But it was not the light that woke me. The full weight of Steven's body lay on top of me, forcing my breasts flat against the mattress and pushing my face into the pillow. He had shoved my knees apart so he could thrust his cock into the body that lay pinned beneath him. The head of his cock had caught on the narrow strip of flesh between my asshole and my vagina. He could get into neither of the two openings. He pushed with even greater force. The pain clamped my pussy and asshole shut even tighter.

I could have stopped it all with a single word. He was an alpha male intent on raw sex, but he was still a friend who would observe the usual social conventions. In short, he would have stopped if I had said "no."

Why would I want him to stop? If I could have only one form of sex, it would be gentle and loving with plenty of foreplay and snuggling. But I had enjoyed last night. All those anonymous men wanted to throw me down and fuck me, but they remained frozen to their seats leaking cum stains on their slacks just for the privilege of having me taunt them and the occasional touch of a bare thigh, ass cheek or nipple. Was I exploited? Hell No! I was woman. Hear me roar.

Now it was Steven's turn to dominate. His cock hurt me, but it was an exquisite agony like an intense orgasm that I wanted more of – not less.

He pulled back for an instant to attempt another penetration. I wanted him inside me, but not in my ass. Not this morning. Not without lubricant and a condom. In the instant that he pulled back, I slipped a hand over my asshole and deflected his next thrust into my pussy. He pushed in roughly. I growled partly in protest and partly in encouragement. I was his lioness. I clamped my pelvic muscles around his shaft like a lioness bites the long, slender neck of a gazelle. My lion roared and thrust in deeper but was unable to extract himself from the vise-like grip of my pussy. He flipped my long hair up and bit into my exposed neck. I could feel the sting as he placed first one mark and then another and another. I grunted and writhed but he had me firmly pinned under the superior weight of his sweating muscles. I twisted my head from side to side and flailed my limbs helplessly.

He pressed his hands into the muscles of my back to lift up his torso. With long firm strokes, he began to piston his shaft into my now wet pussy. My whole body shook each time he slapped up against my ass cheeks. The angle of entry and the force of his stroke torqued my love tunnel in ways that I had not experienced previously. I could not last much longer without screaming, but I didn't want him to let up. His strokes had reached as deeply into me as it was possible to go. In and out blurred into one continuous motion as he became overcome with frenzy. Maybe 50 strokes. Maybe a hundred. It was all over in a couple of minutes, but the orgasms were as intense as if we had built up to this all day. He squirted inside me until it came bubbling out around his cock. I encouraged him with filthy language and squeals of obvious delight.

When he was done, he kissed me lightly on the neck where a minute earlier he had been leaving his marks for my husband to find. Then he got up and disappeared into the shower while I dozed off again with cum leaking from my love crack.

When I awoke the second time, I was in the room alone. Stephen must have gone to run an errand. Breakfast, I hoped. I got up to take a shower before he returned.

The naked woman that looked back at me from the mirror was different from the women I had seen the night before. That woman wore an outrageously sexy dress, but was still unsure of herself. The woman I saw now had the same firm thighs, the same ample but slightly sagging breasts and the same gentle smile. But this morning, that woman had the glint of lust rekindled in her eyes. She wanted her husband, of course, but she wanted more than just the feel of his cock riding her doggy style. She wanted him to watch as she wrapped her tongue around two cocks dripping with cum. She wanted to see him fulfill his anal fantasies with a woman who really enjoyed it – and if that woman still had her pussy stuffed full of her regular partner's cock – well, so much the better.

Oh, it would all be so delicious.

*****

I left a wet towel on the tile floor of the bathroom and emerged naked in a cloud of steam. I had expected to find Steven having returned from his errand, but I not expected the tableau that greeted me. Steven was on the bed as I had expected. A naked couple sat on the couch. The man was my husband. I had never met the woman, but she must have been Steven's wife, Susan.

She had obviously become familiar with my husband in the past few hours, because his cock was only half erect as she curled her slender fingers around his shaft. She was just the type he fantasized about: long legs and tiny breasts with almost translucent white skin. I thought she was attractive, but I preferred women like Reema with large breasts and dark skin. Not that looks are that important. Everyone's attractive who's friendly, and she was definitely being very friendly with my Morris.

I slipped onto the bed beside Steven without a word being spoken. He laid his hand casually between my thighs.

"We thought we'd join you at a swing club tonight, if that's okay with you." My husband had spoken first.

"That would be nice." I answered him, but looked at Susan. She smiled. I imagined her screaming as my husband penetrated her. The image was comforting to me. I shivered ever so slightly. She smiled again knowingly.

"Did you have a good time at the gentleman's club?" Her voice was gentle and reassuring. I took a liking to her right away. It was always more fun watching my husband have sex with a woman that I found compatible.

"It was an interesting experience," I replied, without revealing anything of substance.

"Steven sent me a picture of you at the club with his cell phone." Susan continued. "I forwarded the picture to your husband with a short introduction and assured him that Steven would have sex with you before the night was over."

I laughed. "A woman I've never met knows me better than I know myself."

"I know the look." She continued. "You can't wear an expression like that and make it through the evening without sucking cock."

I shrugged.

"Your husband must have seen it too. Anyway, he accepted my proposition so we booked the last flight and took a room down the hall."

"You both must be exhausted." My tone was sympathetic. I knew that the last flight arrived well after midnight. I had not intended the double meaning until the words had left my mouth.

"You have no idea how exhausted we got." Susan smiled suggestively, while pressing her breasts into Morris' bare chest and kissing him warmly. The meaning of the embrace was clear. No matter how many times they had gotten off last night, it was still not enough for today.

We all laughed. A potentially awkward situation, even for experienced swingers, was quickly becoming comfortable.

"Did you enjoy dancing for a crowd?" It was my husband who spoke this time.

"That was one of the interesting experiences."

I was suddenly a bit nervous again. Up until he spoke, I had thought of it as dancing. It wasn't. I was a stripper. How was I going to tell him that more men than I could count had gotten close enough to smell my pussy while shoving small bills into my garter. And then there was the back room. I was so fucking hot that I would have paid him, but money had changed hands and I was the richer for the transaction. So what did that make me?

"I hear you've gone pro." He flashed a wicked grin that conveyed both knowledge and approval.

"Semi-pro," I replied. "A pro wouldn't blush." I could feel my cheeks flush as pink as my still swollen pussy.

Morris laughed. We were stretching the boundaries again - and off to a good start.