It all started when I got on a late May afternoon. I was heading to this five-star hotel in downtown Des Moines for my high school reunion. My wife and I hit a rough patch-- and by rough, I mean I caught her fucking her boss. I'd just found out hours earlier.
I had stopped by the house to grab a change of clothes hoping to look halfway decent for the reunion.
That's when I saw her.
She was lying there. In our bed. Face down. Getting railed in a doggy position by her boss.
I didn't say a word, I just left. Grabbed the best clothes I owned from my closet, the tux I wore to my wedding. Ironic, right?
I pulled up to the hotel door with numbing fury still pounding in my skull like a naval strike. I put the vehicle in park. I got out of the car, and handed the keys to the valet in silence.
I walked into the lobby and signed in. Then I headed to the bathroom to change into my wedding tux, something I had worn on a joyous night I held dear in memory now tainted by the actions she had done today.
It took me ten minutes to get the tuxedo on in the lobby bathroom. Ten minutes to paint on a brave face and push the pain down. I walked straight to the open bar in the ballroom. I sat down.
"Guinness," I said to the bartender.
I got a tap on my shoulder.
I look over half expecting an old friend only to see her.
Briah.
Her smile melted the cold steel in my chest. The little black dress she wore clung to her curves. The cleavage tried to spill out, and her ass - god, her phat ass was the same one from high school. Built from years of volleyball and the subject of more teenage wet dreams than I'd admit.
Briah was the type of girl who everyone wanted and she knew it. Guys, girls it didn't matter.
Briah smirked. "It's been a while..."
" you aged like fine wine," she said, trying not to giggle.
I looked her up and down dumbfounded. I wasn't sure why she was talking to me. Back in the day she was untouchable and unforgettable.
Sky-high strappy black pleasers. black thigh-high stockings. She didn't just age well - she'd leveled up.
I (half drunk and half stunned)
"Yeah... it has been a while. So what have you been up to?"
"People don't usually look at me like that unless they are slipping ones into my garter or snapping pics of me," she said.
"What," I half slurred trying to wrap my head around it.
" I became an esthetician, I'm going to college to be a nutritionist, model and I'm a stripper. What have you been up to," she said with a giggle.
" I got married and I started a successful business. I have had better days," I said as the bartender brought the second drink.
" What happened," she asked.
"I caught my wife fucking her boss today," I said before taking a sip of my drink.
"Her loss," she said.
"So a stripper. How long and why," I asked
"A year and a half. The fun of it. I do dances, extras, and private events for everyone," she said.
Then she leaned into my ear.
"Even old friends," she whispered.
"What," I asked as goosebumps began to go down my back.
" I usually don't mix business with pleasure but I have always been curious about something," she said with a giggle.
"But I'm married," I said.
" not for long the way your wife is going. Besides, I know you have always wanted me," she said.
Then she handed me a spare room key.
"It's room 777. Come on Daddy it's just a little fun," she giggled.
I started to get hard with every thought. I finished my drink and headed out to the ballroom. I stopped at the elevator and looked down at the keycard. It said room 777 on it.
I pressed the up button. A moment later, the elevator opened and I stepped in.
I pressed the 7 button. It took a few minutes then got to the floor.
The Private Show -- Your Schoolgirl Stripper Fantasy
The hotel room is bathed in dim, golden light, the air thick with anticipation. The bass of a slow, sultry song thrums through the room, setting the perfect rhythm for what's about to unfold. You're seated comfortably in a plush chair, the perfect vantage point, waiting. And then--she appears.
She steps into view, each deliberate click of her sky-high black Pleaser heels against the floor sending a jolt of excitement through you. She's dressed to tease, to tempt, to own the moment. A tiny plaid mini skirt hugs her hips, short enough to barely conceal the curve of her lace thong beneath. Her white button-up blouse is unbuttoned and knotted at the waist, offering a perfect glimpse of delicate lace lingerie underneath.
Her legs are wrapped in sheer, thigh-high stockings, held up by garter straps that beg to be touched. Dark, smoky eyes lock onto yours, framed by long, fluttering lash extensions, her lips painted a bold, glossy red--full, inviting, and utterly intoxicating.
She stops just short of you, tilting her head with that wicked little smirk. "You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" she purrs, her voice dripping with playful seduction.
Then, she moves.
The Dance Begins
Her hips sway in slow, hypnotic circles, her fingers trailing teasingly up her own body--over her waist, her ribs, slipping just beneath the open fabric of her blouse. The music pulses, and she moves in time with it, rolling her body like she was made for this.
She turns, arching her back slightly, giving you the perfect view of lace and curves beneath that tiny skirt. A soft chuckle escapes her lips as she glances over her shoulder, her gaze dark with mischief. She knows exactly what she's doing.
Then, she straddles your lap--not quite touching, just hovering, her breath warm against your skin. Her hands slide up your chest, nails grazing ever so slightly. You can feel the heat between you, the electric charge of her teasing.
Her lips hover just inches from yours. The scent of vanilla and something dangerously sweet fills your senses. "Do you want a taste?" she whispers.
And then--she kisses you.
The Kiss--And More Teasing
