Despite my tremendous relief at his extremely positive reaction to what I had been dreading as a disastrous, humiliating confession, I couldn't help but notice the way he was looking at me now. It seemed the more dirty details I told him, the more explicit and lewd the tale got, the more it stoked his ever-more-obvious lust for me. Which lust, clearly, had NOT been damped by his wife's sordid confession of her sinful and kinky nature, but was clearly intensifying because of it. He was pretty much ogling me now like a hungry wolf might look at a helpless ewe who doesn't even know there's a dangerous predator lurking about.
And seeing THAT reaction from my lover, in turn, was getting ME all horny too--which I already was anyhow, just from rekindling the long-tucked-away memories of how it had made me feel when I danced naked for a large crowd of lustful men telling my story had stirred up in me. So even though I had thought I was all done with the 'fessing up, it suddenly hit me that I had only just gotten started. I was also beginning to realize that I WANTED this to continue--VERY MUCH wanted to. We hadn't gotten to the really juicy parts yet, and my confession was making me feel SO good, in SO many ways, and for SO many reasons!
Needless to say, then, I took a deep breath, slid up against Mike on the bed, gave him my very best sultry, sizzling-hot, come-hither glare, and unbuttoned my shirt, slipped it off, did the same with my bra, and oh-so-casually tossed them both onto the bedroom floor. Inner Slut Christiana was finally, fully awakened now, and she intended to have herself a REALLY good time from here on it. I knew Mike would greatly enjoy meeting her at last, which only loosened my inhibitions even further still; after all, he had been trying to unleash her for the last month and a half himself.
I had plenty to tell him about still, and I hoped his cock would be near to exploding by the time I was done telling it. He seemed to sense that there was lots more to this story yet, so once we had arranged ourselves on the bed, his hands beginning to wander gently over my now-exposed torso, he commanded with a touch of drill-sergeant gruffness: "Okay, I love it so far. Please, go on." I decided to tease him just a little bit, saying "Yeah? You sure you want to hear all this? Because working at Flashdancers could get pretty, umm, wild at times."
I tingled when he fired back: "Well, naturally it could, baby! I've spent a lot of time in titty bars my own self, even dated a few strippers over the years, so I'm pretty well-acquainted with what goes on in those places. And as I've told you before, I absolutely LOVE the idea of you being a horny, wild, out-of-control slut--one who not only isn't ashamed or guilt-ridden about her kinky desires, but is actually comfortable with them, and indulges them to the greatest extent she possibly can! Far as I'm concerned, I've enjoyed everything you've told me so far, but we only just now got to the part of the story that interests me most of all. And don't think I haven't noticed the effect this dirty little tell-all of yours is having on YOU, either! Believe me, I LOVE where all this is headed, so by all means...KEEP GOING!"
