How could I possibly have found a better mate than Ed? He lovingly nudged me into what I wanted before I even knew how much I wanted it.
He always wanted to share me with other men but he never selfishly pushed me into anything. He was never brutish. He always guided me based on my instincts and desires and he was almost always there to protect and care for me. I put myself in the arms of other men because I discovered my massive sex drive. Ed, somehow recognizing that before I did, helped me ditch the TV for life as a hotwife.
Love it.
It would seem an improbable, crazy setup, destined to fail and yet has succeeded in large part due to Ed. He trusted and loved me beyond anything I could imagine. On top of that our personal sex life was better than ever. Go figure.
His birthday was coming up and I just wanted to do something wonderful for him. He kept saying, "Just being married to you is the only gift I need."
That's Ed for you...kinky but kind.
I racked my brain trying to come up with a killer gift for a birthday he'd always remember, and then it came to me...
Ava.
Whether she would do it I wasn't particularly hopeful but it was worth a shot. Ed had a thing for blondes. He also, as I previously mentioned, had a nutty obsession with any woman who resembled Barbie (I won't even begin to explain the psychology behind that one). There was only one girl I knew and, in Ed's eye, she was close to perfect. Ava was petite and yet appeared long and lean with 34A cups, a tight athletic body, a marvelously proportioned ass and a beautiful face framed by a gorgeous blonde coif. When we were dating Ed took me twice to the strip club to see her dance.
When she worked the runway Ed was like a panting dog waiting for dinner, and I mean that in the best possible way. Hehe. I'm pretty sure there are better dating techniques than taking your fiancé to a strip club and go bonkers over another woman but here we are, all these years later.
Furthermore, while he professed his undying love for me, he wanted to make it clear that if an opportunity to bang Ava "ever, ever" became a possibility that he wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of it. Problem was, Ava was married too, destined to remain Ed's hall of fame fantasy girl forever.
He still brought her up wistfully on occasion, suggesting that, "Wouldn't it be incredible if you and I had a three way with Ava? Oh well," and he'd file the thought away for another time. Even when we'd have an argument I'd often say, "Fuck you, Ed, why don't you go live with Ava!"
He'd hang his head and mumble, "She's married and her husband plays softball."
Ed eventually stopped taking me to the strip club and Ava was relegated to mythical status, like a calendar pin-up girl. One day I asked him jokingly, "Haven't heard anything about Ava for a really long time. What happened, did you guys break up in your head?"
"No, nothing that drastic," he said, laughing, "I just realized that what's the point of pining away for the girl of my dreams when I'm already married to her."
Well as much as it was playing with fire it would be an amazing gift to give Ed that threesome with Ava. How in the world do you even suggest something like that to someone even if they are a stripper? 'Hey there, excuse me. You don't know me but my husband has a huge crush on you and I was wondering....'
And then I thought, that IS the only way to ask something like that and hope for the best. I didn't know if she was still dancing but I called the club and sure enough she was still there but working all day shifts, from around noon to seven. Actually it would be easier to talk during the slow weekdays than the crazed evenings.
I got there at eleven thirty, sat in a booth and waited for Ava to come out of the dressing room but in the meantime I got mistaken for a dancer twice and one out and out proposition for sex in the parking lot. Of course, I was wearing my hotwife anklet and necklace so no surprise there.
Eventually Ava came out in a sexy two piece and impossibly high stripper heels. Time hadn't made a dent in her beauty and I had to admit I was getting a bit of a girl boner watching her walk. With her perky tiny tits, magnificent ass and killer legs she walked like 'you can't afford me.'
She stopped to say hello to a regular who kept his hand on her rear the entire length of the conversation until hugging him and moving down the bar in my direction.
I yelled across the room, "Excuse me, Ava, can I talk to you?"
Approaching me, she said, "It depends. I have a regular coming at twelve thirty but go ahead."
Recognizing protocol, I slid a twenty across the table to her. "I'm Mara." She, in turn, opened her glorified G-string for me to place the bill which I did.
"You want to take me private, Mara?" she asked.
"I want to ask you a question."
"Before you do I just wanna say, you're a real hottie. If we got you in a skimpy outfit and had you walk the runway, money would be flying everywhere."
"Thanks. Coming from you I consider that a huge compliment."
"What's your question?"
"My husband has long thought that you were a gift from the gods. (She started laughing) When we were dating he used to bring me here to see you dance and before we got married he talked about you endlessly.
"Uh...okay, so why did you marry him if he was hot for me?"
"Only a psychologist could answer that one but he's turned out to be special to me."
The DJ with a clipboard interrupted, "Ava, you're up after Mary Jane."
"Your necklace says hotwife," she said, "really?"
"Yup, really."
"Wow. He likes to watch, huh?"
"Ya, sometimes he joins in but mostly he gets off watching."
"Devin, my husband, is straighter than an arrow and would never get into swinging and stuff like that. Anyway, spending all week grinding on dudes is so tiring all I want to do after work is nap."
From the sound system came, "Let's hear it for Ava!" The music blasted.
"Excuse me," she said, "be right back."
She climbed up on the runway stage, doffing what little she had on and skillfully worked the pole, only stopping for tips offered by her admirers. After two songs she grabbed her clothes off the stage and sat back down next to me.
"Am I getting in the way of you making money," I asked.
"No, you're fine. Besides you bought a
dance, we just didn't go. You wanted to ask me something."
I handed her another twenty, "There, I've got two songs coming."
Extending her hand, "Shall we?" and, to the surprise of the men, she led me back to one of the booths and removed her clothes. "Why don't you ask me what you wanted to ask me while I take you to a happy place?"
She seduced me with moves she'd used many times before but rarely on another woman gauging by the usual clientele. Each booth had a mirror. She stood and showed me her body and, as she wanted, I reached up to caress her, sliding my fingers across her curves, especially that rocking ass that no man could resist. She featured it in her dance.
She sat down next to me and reached over and up my skirt. When she eventually touched my panties it was a major turn on. Through the cotton fabric she massaged my clit and soon I was hers. No doubt she cued off of my wet spot and my heaving chest.
I must have lost track of time as the second song ended with a regretful thud, interrupting my high, "How was that?" she said.
"More," I urged her, "much more."
