Welcome to My Mid-Life Crisis Ch. 01


As she moved to the music snakelike in front of him, Frank scanned her body once more. From head to toe, her skin was smooth and her curves voluptuous. It was all he could do to keep his hands at his sides, like a long forgotten desire was rising in him. In all the time he had sat watching dancers in these clubs, he'd never once been tempted to touch one, until now. It was like the parting of a curtain and at that moment the depression left him. He realized what he had been denying in himself through some misplaced guilt. He had let Vicki get to him at the core of his being and he had been denying his most basic male desires out of fear that some other woman would control his soul as she had. But here was this beautiful half-naked creature, dancing for his pleasure. He was in control, however tenuous it may be, and she was not able to hurt him. He had no need to fear her, only to desire her.

He was snapped from his revelry by the feeling of a leg being thrown over his shoulder. Her left foot on the back of the couch and he right knee on his thigh, Tara rolled her hips back and for, her pussy now inches from Frank's face, and he could sense the now familiar sent of strawberries. She pulled the g-string tight and he could easily see the outline of her lips, the nub of her clit, poking through the sheer fabric like a tiny nipple. Tara then hooked her thumbs under the waist band and slid the tiny triandle down until her pussy was nearly exposed. As she moved, Frank could see just the top of her cleft peeking out from behind the green. He smiled realizing that his earlier question was now answered for certain. Her pussy was completely bare. He felt his cock stiffen further

Tara spun around now, planted her ass on his lap, and drew and arm up behind Frank's head in a classic stripper lap dance position. Slowly she ground her ass into his crotch. "How do you feel?" she asked, whispering in his ear.

"Liberated," he said smiling. "I'd say put another notch in your garter belt doctor, I'm cured."

She laughed put her hands on his thigh and started moving her ass in circular motions. Frank's dick was at full rise now, and pulsating with suppressed lust. For the first time, Tara came full in contact with his erection, and gasped softly, her motion stopping. "Frank!" she exclaimed. "Is that all you?"

"Sorry about that," Frank said, a bit embarrassed, "but what did you expect? You've been grinding on me for the last 5 minutes." He was feeling a little defensive and self-conscious.

No Frank," she said with a snort of disgust, "don't be ridiculous. I'd be insulted if you didn't have a hard-on, that's not what I meant. What I meant was, well, you're huge!"

"Thanks for the ego boost," said Frank still a bit uncomfortable, 'but I wouldn't go that far. I mean, I've never had any complaints, but come on. You must have seen hundreds of hard-ons like mine." Even as he said it he realized it was the wrong thing to say.

Tara stood up and slowly turned around to face him. "What's that supposed to mean Frank?"

Frank just hung his head. "Look Tara, I didn't mean that. I just mean that in your profession..." He cut himself off and held up a hand and shook his head.

"Keep digging Frank," she said smiling again, "the hole's not quite deep enough yet."

"Oh fuck it!" said Frank in resignation. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Tara said sweetly. "So, can I touch it?"

"What?" exclaimed Frank in surprise. He was shocked and for some reason a little afraid. He sat up a bit straighter, and so did his cock.

Throwing a quick glance at the door, Tara dropped to her knees between his legs. Her hands on his knees, she slowly slid her hands up his thighs, licking her glossy red lips. She looked at the bulge in Frank's khakis. She could see the distinct outline of his distended cock, obviously having escaped his jockey shorts, stretching down his thigh. She could tell it would stand nearly ten inches when released. She slid her hand up his thigh. His cock jumped when her hand first made contact. With a sigh she slid her hand up the shaft, cupping it's considerable girth, then bringing her hand back down its length before running her thumb over the outline of the head. She looked up at him with a hungry look on his face.

Frank couldn't tell if she was just playing with him or if the lust on her face was real. Was it a typical stripper trick? Probably not; she knew Ron was the money man, not him. "Look," he said, "I'm not sure this is a good idea. Not with Brutus the Bouncer outside the door."

She chuckled. "You're probably right," she said with a sigh. "Back to the dance."

With that announcement, she stood and planted her ass back in his lap. Leaning forward she ground into him with a new vigor, her pace increased, as well as her pressure. Sensuality was replaced by lust, and Frank was not about to complain. She leaned back against him, her ass gyrating, squeezing her breast with one hand, the other sliding down her body and over her barely clad pussy. Next she sat up and leaned over, bending nearly in half, facing away from him. Her hands slid up the inside of her spread thighs. Frank could see the dark pink rose of her asshole peeking out behind the thin green strand of her g-string, and noticed a growing wetness at the base of the triangle covering her pussy.

She turned around and again straddled him, this time positioning herself a bit further down his thighs. As she moved her crotch dragged up and down his thighs, continually bumping the head of his hard on into her pubic bone. She shifted positions until his cock was grinding directly on her clit. With a sigh, she reached up to squeeze her breasts once more. She then took his hands from their resting place at his sides and drew them up, placing them on her thighs. She shivered at his touch, and stopped him when he tried to pull away.

"Just leave them there and he won't say anything," she assured him. "He never checks up on me anyway. I'm a good girl, so I never cross any lines." There was a devilish twinkle in here eyes.

She reached back to her breast and began to roughly pinch her nipples. She was humping his leg so hard Frank swore he could feel the nub of her clit grinding on his cock through the khakis. He lightly moved his hands and felt goose bumps rise on her thighs. At the same time, she opened her mouth and a soft moan escaped. Frank suddenly realized the he truly was in control now. There it was the risk again. Not a big one, but a risk none the less. How far could he push the envelope? He decided to try.

Lightly, softly and slowly, he slid his hands up her thighs and around to lightly caress her ass. A trail of goose bumps followed his touch, and as he reached her ass, he felt her thighs quiver. Another moan louder escaped her lips. He moved a hand up, placing two fingers on her lips to quiet her. She promptly engulfed the fingers into her luscious mouth. Her pace quickened as she ground her crotch into his thigh, the head of his cock bouncing off her clit. Her tongue swirled around his fingers as she sucked on them with abandon. Frank was sure that he was going to explode at any second when her back arched and she stopped her grinding. Her mouth clamped on his fingers and he could feel rather than hear the contained scream as she held it back. Her legs grasped at his thigh spasmodically as she ferociously twisted her nipples. Her whole body shuddered as the orgasm passed through her, and Frank was in total shock as she collapsed against his chest.

"Holy shit," was all Frank could say.

"Wow," whispered Tara breathlessly, "that was incredible."

She leaned back and pushed her wet, sweat drenched hair back from her face. She looked down at him shyly, and now it was her turn to be embarrassed. "Sorry Frank, I got a little carried away. I don't usually get turned on at all during a lap dance, let alone, well, you know."

"Its ok babe," said Frank. "Man, if I'd known this was what I got for a lap dance, I'd have been back here more often."

"I'm serious Frank," she said defensively. "I've never, I mean never, been truly turned on during a lap dance. You have to stay distanced. It's a job, it gets repetitive and there's really nothing arousing about it. Oh sure there are those girls who start to get obsessed with the idea of making themselves, or the customers, cum each time, but that kind of behavior is inherently dangerous both psychologically and for other very real reasons. Pretty soon those girls are taking guys home, seeing them outside of work and more often than not getting themselves into a lot of trouble that could easily have been avoided if they had just kept a professional distance while performing for their customers." She was rambling now, upset at having broken her cardinal rule. Keep the wall between you and the customer and remember that a lap dance is not sex. Oh sure she'd had guys cum before while she was dancing, but she had never experienced and orgasm.

"Um, excuse me doctor," said Frank laughing, "but I think you are rambling."

"Well," she said, "look this isn't easy you know? I try very hard to keep my distance and..."

"Whoa, whoa whoa," said Frank. "You just had one of the most amazing orgasms I have ever seen a woman have, making $200 bucks in the process I might add, and you're upset? Come on hun, you didn't break any laws, you didn't even break the rules of the club, your virtue is still intact, so what's the problem? No one's even gonna know but us two, and I'm certainly not going to think less of you because of this?"

"You're not?" she asked shyly. Frank could see she actually had tears welling up in her eyes. This kid was really shook up.

"Huh? Hell no, why would I?" Frank reached out and gently ran a hand down her cheek. "Look babe, I stopped judging people a long time ago when I realized what a bad judge of character I was. But, if I had to judge I'd say you were a very smart young woman who is doing a job which can be very demeaning, and doing a damned good job of avoiding all the pitfalls that come along with it. I firmly believe that when you get your degree you will stop working here because I can see that this isn't your cup of tea."

"How could you tell?" she asked, curious now.

"Because you went straight for the guy you knew was harmless. You could have cleaned Ronnie out in about 3 minutes, but you didn't. You strung him along all evening and milked him a dollar at a time. You stayed with him all night because he treated you nice and showed you respect. I daresay he made you feel safe and special."

"OK," Tara said sarcastically, "now who's playing doctor?"

"Not a doctor," said Frank, "just a conesuier of strip clubs."

"Well," Tara said slowly, "you know, you're right. I really did feel safe with Ron. There are a lot of regulars who come in that are like that. They never get handsy, never push any lines, and they do treat me with respect. A lot of guys get real nasty and have such filthy mouths. I guess I just don't have a thick enough skin to be a pro. I hope I never do.

"And now that you mention it, they are all older guys. Maybe I have a father thing going on, I don't know."

"Or maybe," said Frank with a laugh, "you're over analyzing the hell out of this."

They both laughed. "So listen," said Frank carefully, "I gotta be honest, this was the first time I felt in control of anything in a very long time and it was incredible. It really was very, for lack of a better term, therapeutic. I mean, for you to react that way certainly didn't hurt me ego any. So I gotta know, what exactly was different with me? I mean, what was it about tonight that made you step over your line?"

"Well Frank," she said shyly, "I wish I could tell you that I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you, but that wouldn't be true."

"Nor would I believe you," he said with a smile. "Come on, tell me the truth. Like I said, I'm certainly not going to think any less of the woman who raised my self esteem from the dead with one lap dance."

She smiled now and relaxed. His comment about her resurrecting his self-esteem seemed to fill her with pride and she puffed out her chest a bit, and action which he surely didn't mind as she was still topless.

"OK this is gonna sound silly but when I saw the size of the bulge in your pants, I was shocked. I mean seriously, you're packing a monster Frank. I get a lot of cocks jammed in my ass each night, but nothing like that. I mean...shoot that didn't come out right at all!"

"Never mind," he said chuckling and holding up his hand to stall another stammered explanation, "I know what you meant. I guess I just never thought it was all that big. Of course I've never whipped it out with the other boys in the locker room to compare or nothing."

"Well take it from an expert," she said giggling, "you are very well off. So a million things ran through my head in about 3 seconds. First, most guys who are reluctant to get a lap dance usually have a smaller penis, and are self conscious about it, so I certainly wasn't expecting this thing. Second, I thought why would any woman be out screwing around on an obviously nice guy who's packing so much heat. I mean, if she traded you in for larger size because you weren't big enough, she was probably so worn out that she wasn't worth fucking anyway. So then I thought, well maybe she went elsewhere because you were so large that it hurt her. Then I got this image of her from the back, straddling your lap with that huge cock slammed up her pussy. But then I realized I didn't know what she looked like, and when the woman straddling you turned her head, it was me. That's when it all kind went to hell and I lost control."

Any of the firmness of Frank's hard-on that had left him since the end of the dance returned with lightning quickness. "Geez," he stammered, "I'm not really sure what to say now. I can honestly say I've never had a college co-ed fantasizing about me before."

"What did you call me?" asked Tara in a strange voice.

"Um, what do you mean?" Frnak was confused by her question.

"You called me a college co-ed."

"That's a bad thing?" Frank was genuinely confused now.

"No not at all," she said, "I was just wondering why you saw me as a co-ed and not a stripper?"

Frank looked around and chuckled. "Well to be honest I had kinda forgotten where I was."

Tara laughed. "OK that's a first!" Then she looked down into his lap again. "Oh no! Frank I'm sorry."

He looked down and noticed that his entire thigh was soaked with Tara's juices. The wet fabric of his khakis outlined his rigid cock in obscene detail. "Ah that's ok. I'll just adjust to the other side. Everyone out there will think I either pissed myself or spilled a drink in my lap, if they aren't too drunk to even notice."

"Gee sorry Frank, guess you had been holding that load in for a while, eh?

Frank had to laugh. "Um sorry dear, but this is all you."

"Huh?" gasped Tara in amazement.

"Yep, you ground yourself into oblivion and left me with nothing to remember you by but a damp thigh and a rock hard cock."

"You mean," she said timidly, "you didn't, well..."

"You mean you couldn't tell?" said Frank teasingly. "Oh I see. Women, you're all alike. It's all about you. As long as you get off, you just assume that we'll follow suit like puppy dogs. Well I got news for you missy, some men, especially us 'older men' need a little romance. We like to be held."

Tara lost it, busting out laughing so hard she fell off the couch.

"What did I say?" asked Frank, trying to stay serious, but his smile was winning out.

"I'm sorry dear," she said. Then sidled up to him and her hand drifted once more to his lap. She stroked the wet outline of his cock, raking her fingernails down the length. The sharp sensation sent sparks through his loins. "You know Frank," she said in a husky voice, "since I seem to be breaking so many of my rules tonight. How about if I break one more. I have a washing machine at my apartment. How about if you come home with me and I take care of this for you before it stains."

"You know fifteen minutes ago I would have run screaming for the hills," Frank said smiling back at her. "Now, I'm not sure I could refuse even if I wanted to. Tell me though, are you sure? I don't want to get half way through and have you start getting second thoughts. Or even worse, hate yourself in the morning."

"Frank, a stripper taking home a customer is bad news, " Tara said flatly. "However, since I've decided to go out there and quit, that's a moot point"

"What?" exclaimed Frank. "You can't do that. How will you pay for school?"

"Oh I'm sure I can find something else. Besides, I honestly don't think I could give another lap dance after what just happened. I'd be too afraid I'd start thinking of you and start cumming all over some poor sap who'd get the wrong idea."


"No buts, Frank," she said sternly. "I have to do this whether you come home with me or not. So, will you at least help me celebrate my freedom?"

Frank looked down at her. She was gorgeous. Her large beasts covered with goosebumps, her taunt nipples revealing her excitement, her skin was alight with the afterglow of her orgasm. He nodded his head and she smiled. "Thank God!" she said. "I wasn't sure I could handle a rejection." She turned around and bent over to pick up her heels. As she did, Frank could see that her g-string was so soaked with her juices that it had become transparent. He could clearly make out her engorged lips, still infused from her orgasm. She stood up slowly and threw a glance over her shoulder at him and he knew it had been a calculated move to seal the deal.

She extended her hand and they left the room. She took him back to the table where Ron was now feeding ones into the breasts of a lithe looking asian girl. As they approached the slowed and looked down at his pants and threw a look at Tara.

"Oh go ahead and tell him," she said resignedly, "at least I know he'll get a kick out of the story." With that she kissed him on the cheek and went to give her 2 minute notice.

He sidled up to Ron's table and couldn't help but keep the grin off his face. Ron looked down and noticed the large wet spot on his thigh and raised an eyebrow.

"I'll tell you later," Frank said.

"Hmm," said Ron. He looked up at the asian girl dancing in his face. "Hey honey, why don't you take this, run and get Frankie boy here a drink, and keep the change." He handed her a $20 and she went off giving him a peck on the cheek.

He sat back and said, "So Frankie, how was the lap dance. Did we soil ourselves? I mean, I knew she'd be good, but..."

"Wait," said Frank, "you mean you've never had a dance with her?"

"Me?" said Ron, "Nope, never even tried. She never offered so I figured she didn't want to take me back there. She doesn't give many from what I've seen. She really doesn't belong here."

"Yeah," said Frank, "that's true."

"Your mouth says no, but your pants say yes."

"Come to think of it, why'd you send me back there with her then?" asked Frank.

Ron grinned. "Living vicariously, I guess. You'll notice she didn't seem to mind. Neither did you."

"Ok, ok so it wasn't bad." The asian dancer came back with Frank's drink. He thanked her and then Ron sent her on her way.

"So give me some details," said Ron kicking his feet up on the table and sipping on his drink.

"Well," said Frank, "how about we start with the fact that the big wet spot on my thigh is hers, not mine."

Ron sat bolt upright and sprayed his drink all over Frank. Frank sat, run and coke dripping from his face. "Oh shit dude, sorry."

Frank took the napkin Ron offered and mopped his face. "Well at least now my shirt matches my pants."

"Sorry dude, but, I mean really?" Ron was nearly salivating in anticipation of Frank's story. So Frank told him the whole tale. As he retold the story, he recalled the luscious feeling of her skin as her breast brushed his face. He recalled in great detail feeling the hard little nub of her clit through the fabric of his pants. He described the look of ecstasy on her face as she came, sucking on his fingers. As he told the story he could feel his cock stiffening again. He couldn't help but wonder wait the rest of the night might hold in store. He had just finished his story when he felt two hands slide over his shoulders and down his chest. He tilted his head back and saw Tara standing behind him.

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