Amateur Night

I want to share the hottest night of my life so far...

Last month, my wife Amy and I decided to take a weekend getaway. We booked a room a couple of hours from our home, and headed out. As we pulled into the parking lot of our hotel she laughed out loud and pointed at the sign above the door of the club next door: "Amateur Night".

She said "I don't think we'll be going there."

I jokingly replied "You're right. You'd be the hottest thing there."

We checked into the hotel, carried our bags up to the room, and both collapsed on the bed in exhaustion from the long drive that followed a long work day. We didn't even bother to get out of our clothes.

Rising about an hour later, we decided to try out a steak house we passed on the way into town. I dressed rather casually, in some jeans and a collarless button-up. Amy went all out, putting on a matching bra, g-string and garter set under a near skin-tight red evening dress. Her long black hair draped down over her shoulders, matched by a black velvet choker that framed the high front of her dress. She looked, in a word, delectable.

Dinner was fine. Wine and laughter punctuated our conversation, and the chef didn't even manage to overcook my rare steak. We shared a chocolate volcano for dessert, and I took great pleasure in cleaning the chocolate off of her lower lip.

She scowled at me as she pulled a dark red lipstick from her purse and placed it to her lips, saying "How am I supposed to turn on all those men if you keep wrecking my makeup?"

I just laughed in reply. "Try harder".

We headed back to the hotel. As she stepped out of the car she stretched, looked up at the sky, and then said "It's still early. I'm not ready for bed just yet. Come with me." And with that, she turned and headed towards the club entrance.

Who was I to argue?

She giggled as we entered the darkened club, and dragged me to a booth at the front. I looked around. Clearly amateur night was not a big draw... at least not for women. Amy was the only female customer tonight.

There was a woman on stage, twirling around a pole. She was already down to some skin tight boy shorts and a string top. Her head was thrown back as she thrust her chest up into the spotlight and rotated her ass.

Amy couldn't take her eyes off the dancer. It wasn't long before the dancer noticed Amy in return. She gave us a wicked smile, and then strutted over in front of our table.

With her hands on her hips, she rotated her pelvis in front of my gaping eyes. Then she reached out with her right arm, and her beckoning finger invited Amy forward.

Amy glanced nervously at me, and I nodded in encouragement. She stood and approached the stage. The dancer bend at the waist and said something in Amy's ear. I saw her blush. They had a short conversation, and then, to my surprise, Amy reached up behind the dancer and tugged open the bowed strings of her top.

As the dancer straightened, Amy's hands slid around, pulling the small triangles away from the erect nipples. The dancer's right hand slid across Amy's head, stroking her long hair as she pulled away.

I suddenly became aware of the hooting and cheering from the men surrounding the stage, and of my own cock hard in my pants.

Amy darted back to the table, flushed with heat, and handed me the bikini top. "She told me to give you this."

I caught her eye as I took the flimsy fabric, and she blushed again. "I'm so fucking turned on," she said.

Without waiting for her permission, or caring about the eyes of the hungry men surrounding us, I slid my hand up between her legs, pushing her dress up until my pinky finger pressed against the fabric of her panties. I could feel the moisture and heat of her sex immediately, and her legs opened wider as she squirmed against my hand. "Should we go?" I asked.

"Not yet," she panted, and pushed my hand away.

She didn't straighten her dress, however.

The dancer had strutted around the stage, proudly displaying her beautifully firm breasts to the cheering men. Several came up to the stage with bills to slip into the waistband of her shorts. Soon she had circled back in front of our booth.

Amy looked at me and said "I think you should give her a big tip."

I got out my wallet, pulled a $50 bill from it, and approached the stage. The dancer winked at me and squatted in front of me, spreading her legs wide and providing a tantalizing view of skin where her legs met. As I reached towards her with the bill she leaned towards me and whispered "I think they'd like to see your girl dance. In fact, I'd like to see her dance," and her tongue caressed across my earlobe.

I must have looked wide-eyed when I returned to Amy. She asked "what did she say?" After I repeated the dancer's words Amy took a sharp breath and looked into my eyes with a fire I'd never seen before. "I could never do that!" she protested.

Her eyes didn't match her conviction.

The dancer finished her act and walked off the back of the stage. Amy said "I need a drink", so I made my way up to the bar, ordering two strong cocktails. The bartender said they'd deliver it to our table.

A few minutes later a waitress headed over with a tray. I was a bit shocked to watch as the dancer we had just ogled placed the drinks at our table. She smiled at me, then bent and whispered something in Amy's ear. I saw Amy's head shake "no", and then her eyes widen and her nostrils flare as the dancer said something else. She took a deep breath, and then gave her hand to the dancer. I was stunned as Amy willingly stood and allowed the dancer to lead her through a door at the side of the stage.

The crowd of men hooted and whistled as they watched Amy disappear. The calls grew even louder as a man in a suit stepped out onto the stage, drawing Amy by the hand behind him.

"Gentlemen!" he called. I looked around again. Sure enough, Amy had remained the only woman in the crowd. "Tonight we have a special guest" he continued. "Dancing for the first time ever, please welcome Amy!"

As the cheers and whistles grew deafening I reached down to straighten my rock hard cock.

The man in the suit left the stage, leaving Amy standing alone. She looked timid. Then some music started: a heavy, driving bass beat. Amy looked over at me. She seemed to bite the corner of her lower lip, and then grinned salaciously.

She started to slowly walk across the front of the stage, her heels accenting the curve of her stockinged calves. Every eye in the place was glued to her as she lifted her arms out to the side and slowly twirled.

She stepped to the front of the stage, facing the nearest group of men, and slowly and deliberately brought her hands to the hem of her dress. She ran them flat up her body, across her stomach and her breasts, lifting her hair off her shoulders as she reached to the sky.

Her dress rose up, giving those of us in the front a glimpse of the top of her stockings, while her breasts strained against the tight fabric of her dress. Even from where I sat I could see the bumps of her aroused nipples.

She rolled her wrists in the air, and her hands began a slow route back down the front of her body, pausing just long enough to roll her breasts and lift them towards the men. Then she turned around and displayed her pert ass, again gliding her hands across her own body, accentuating her curves and drawing more whistles and cheers.

I ran my hand over the outside of my pants, feeling my rigid member; wishing I could take it out.

Amy had started swaying to the music, still with her back turned. Slowly her hands had crept to the front of her dress, and almost imperceptibly she had begun to lift it up her legs. A loud cheer when up as the straps of her garter came into view, and the men at the back started clapping to the music.

Amy glanced over her shoulder, making a smoldering eye contact with me. She held my gaze for several seconds, then slowly winked, smiled, and bent at the waist, thrusting her bottom towards the crowd and quickly pulling the dress above her ass. Along with everyone in the room I gasped to see the g-string running up her crack as her rosebud opened to our view.

She wiggled her ass in front of the raucous crowd, then stood and turned to face us. Her dress remained bunched above her waist, and the small triangle of black fabric covering her sex was like a magnet for our eyes.

Her hands soon broke that spell, as they rotated the fabric of her dress ever higher over her flat stomach, exposing her belly button; the gentle line of the bottom of her ribs. The bottom curve of a lacy black bra, matching her g-string suddenly came into view, and the room exploded in cheers again.

Amy's hand slid inside her dress, gripping her tits and massaging them aggressively. We watched her eyes close as she fondled her own breasts inside the tight dress, until someone yelled "Take it off!" Her eyes flew open, and she searched the crowd for the caller. He shouted again, and she found him.

Staring directly at him, she grasped the dress and in one fluid movement pulled it over her head and threw it to him.

She now stood before us in all of her lingerie glory: her pale skin framed by her black hair, the lace bra, garter and stockings, and that small triangle still hiding her centre. She proudly rolled her shoulders, displaying her tits and casting her hair from side to side. Then she bent forward, her boobs pressing together and her cleavage beckoning.

Her hands slid down her body as she put her right foot forward. We watched with bated breath as she unclipped her stockings, and then changed feet to unclip her left leg. She stood again, and with poise walked over to the pole; the garter clips bouncing around her thighs. Leaning her back against the pole she lifted her right leg in front of her, dangling her shoe from the toe. With a flick she sent it sailing to the side of the stage.

She repeated the same slow movement with her left leg, and I realised as she did the view she had just given the men on the other side. The triangle of her skimpy panties had pulled aside, and I could see the dripping and enflamed lips of her pussy winking at me.

I felt the first drops of liquid seep from my straining cock.

Before I knew it, Amy had dropped her feet to the floor, and, now without shoes, strutted to the very edge of the stage. She pointed to a young man at the front table, stretched out her leg towards him, and pointed at her stocking.

He nearly knocked over the table as he jumped forward, and I felt another surge in my dick as I watched another man's hands wrap around my wife's leg as he rolled her stocking down and off her foot. As it came off he ran his hand back up her leg, but just as he came within inches of her mound she backed away, leaving his arm outstretched.

She then moved to the far side of the stage and repeated her selection, pointing and stretching out her other leg. This time she chose an overweight, tattooed biker.

He didn't play her rules.

Instead of rolling off her stocking, his hand reached directly between her legs and cupped her pussy. Amy's back arched as, I assume, his finger entered her, and then she pushed him away. She held out her arm and wagged a finger at him. He made as if to pout, and she once again stretched out her stockinged leg towards him.

This time he took her stocking and rolled in down her leg. I could see his fingers caressing the back of her leg as he ever so slowly stripped her leg. She looked over her shoulder at me and raised her eyebrow with an evil grin. As the stocking came off her foot she dropped her leg down to the biker's shoulder, and rolled her hips forward.

He wasted no time. His hand slid back up her leg to her crotch, and her body humped against his hand. The men around him were shouting, and more hands reached out to caress her legs. I saw her head throw back as she gasped, and then she pulled away and staggered back to the middle of the stage.

Twisting to the music, her hands explored every inch of her own body, massaging her heaving chest and pulling the g-string away from her cunt, giving the whole club a view of her most private centre. I looked around, and was surprised to see many of the men had unzipped their pants and had their dicks in hand, stroking furiously. In the corner the original dancer was on her knees in front of the suited man, her face bobbing into his crotch.

"Fuck, yes," I thought as I unzipped my own pants and fished my iron hard eight inches out.

Amy suddenly stopped still. She looked over at me, took a deep breath, and licked her lips. Her hands dropped to her cunt and she drew her fingers across her slit, bowing her head and rolling her back with pleasure. Standing tall, she stepped to the front of the stage and pointed at two men, beckoning them forward. The came eagerly - one not even bothering to put his own erect and bouncing member back into his pants.

She reached for their inner hands, and pulled them up to her breasts, one on each, and let them grope her. She then bent forward and yelled something over the music. Both men reached their free hands up behind her.

They struggled to coordinate, but eventually I saw her bra strap give way, and Amy stood erect. The men lost no time in pulling the bra off her shoulders and exposing her firm tits and hard nipples to the room. Their hands returned to fondle her now naked breasts.

Suddenly Amy reached forward, grabbed both men by their hair, and pulled their mouths to her nipples. The man on the right lost no time, sliding his hand up the inside of her leg. I saw his finger push between her ass cheeks and press against her rosebud. Amy gave a sharp guttural scream and her whole body shuddered.

As she recovered, she pushed the men away, stepped back in to the centre of the stage, and threw her arms wide to display her self. Her garter was twisted and the triangle of fabric of her g-string was pulled to the side. Her gaping pussy lips stood out proudly as the whole room cheered.

She turned towards me, stepped off the stage, and took my hand. Pulling me hard after her she dragged me down the side hallway, pushed open the door to the women's washroom, bent over the sink, and, looking over her shoulder, said "Fuck me, you bastard."