"Oh?" I said, completely taken off guard. "I can't believe she said she'd have sex with me..."
"It might not be her," Pamela told me. "You said it didn't have to be."
"What's she going to do, hire a hooker or something? A hooker isn't part of my fantasy, so if that's what she's planning, it's no deal."
"No, no. It's either Stephanie or one of the gals from her soccer team."
"Okay, that sounds promising."
The soccer team was the same one Pamela had been on until she had to have knee surgery a few years ago. My wife and I had watched them play last season, and although some of the players were better looking than others, they all had nice legs and they weren't fat. The team sponsor was a local car dealer who always featured attractive models in his commercials, and he was known to recruit good looking women for his soccer and softball teams as well. We weren't able to stay for the end of the game so I didn't get to meet all of Stephanie's teammates, but I did learn the names of the two I thought were the best-looking: Robin and Emily.
"Who is it?" I wanted to know. "Do I know her?"
"I can't tell you that," Pamela said cryptically.
"Why can't you tell me? Don't you know?"
"Oh, yeah," she replied, again with a bit of a smile on her face. "I know."
"Then why won't you tell me?"
"Stephanie told me not to," Pamela explained. "It could be her or it could be one of her friends, like you wanted, but Stephanie thinks it's better if you don't know who it is.
"Oh, yeah, what difference will it make?"
"If you decide not to do the striptease and all the other CFNM things then she wants you to spend the rest of your life wondering who you missed out on."
"I suppose I could live with that..."
"But then every time you talked to Stephanie or met one of her friends," Pamela continued, "you'd have to ask yourself if she was the one."
"Hmmm..."
"And since we want to make sure it's not just a quickie that'll leave her unsatisfied, you'll have to give her three orgasms for every one you have. That ought to make for a memorable time, don't you think?"
"Sounds good to me," I said. "You of all people should know how much I enjoy making a woman come."
"I knew you'd like that part," Pamela said. "But she wants to call the shots, and by 'she,' I mean the woman you get to have sex with, whoever it is."
"What exactly does that mean?"
"It would be fine with me if your mystery woman just wants a quickie," Pamela said. "But it won't be a problem for me if she wants more than that. In fact, you have my permission to go to her house and spend the whole weekend having sex with her, if that's what she wants."
"Oh, really?"
"I don't think there's a good chance of that happening, but I'm not going to complain if it does."
"Why are you so generous all of a sudden?"
"Because I know some things that you don't," she replied. "Basically, since you asked Stephanie for sex, she and her friends are going to make sure you earn it. This CFNM party isn't going to be as quick and easy as your last one. But this is a package deal. You get to make the final decision, but it's all or nothing."
"I see." I had backed myself into a corner and I didn't see any way out of it, short of just refusing. That would offend my sense of honor and make me look bad to Pamela and her friends, so I didn't think I had a choice. "Okay, you can tell Stephanie I'll do it."
"I'll call her in the morning," said Pamela. "So I guess we've got a lot to do this week, eh, Mark?"
She was certainly right about that, so we got started right after dinner. The first thing we did was to choose some music and then choreograph a dance routine. The time was too short to learn anything very complicated, but we did put in some sexy moves that would make me look my best. After that, Pamela got out her sewing machine while I continued to practice. She modified a pair of my black pants by taking apart the seams and replacing them with Velcro. Then she cut up a white shirt to get the collar and the cuffs. A black bow tie and a cheap pair of cufflinks completed my stripper costume. The whole process made me horny and I'm sure Pamela felt the same way, but we were both too tired to do anything about it that night.
* * * * *
The next three days were pretty much alike. Pamela put in long hours at work and I practiced dancing. I also increased the intensity of my weightlifting and added two miles to my running in an effort to bring out my muscle definition as much as possible. I was sore for a day or so, but I got over it.
Stephanie had given Pamela a bottle of pills she wanted me to take. They were big green capsules that contained an herbal concoction that was supposed to make my erection bigger and longer lasting, and also stimulate my prostate to produce more seminal fluid. The label listed the ingredients as L-arginine, saw palmetto, yohimbe powder, maca root powder, and some things I couldn't pronounce. Stephanie assured Pamela that it was safe and that her husband had good results with it, and since I hadn't paid for it I didn't have to worry about wasting my money.
I had occasional thoughts about not doing the striptease but Pamela really wanted it to happen. Deep down, I realized that I wanted to do it as well, even though I knew that stripping was probably not the best thing for me to do. Word of it might get out if any member of Stephanie's soccer team lacked discretion, and I had no way of knowing how people would react if they found out.
My better judgment lost out to the idea that Stephanie, an attractive woman who was more than twenty years my junior, wanted me to watch me do a striptease. It was very flattering. The fact that Stephanie, or another desirable woman who was also probably twenty years younger than me, was willing to have sex with me was even better since it told me that I wasn't yet over the hill. In the final analysis, the week in Aspen was just a bonus. I would have agreed to the striptease even for no tangible reward at all. The thrill was enough. And of course, sex with Stephanie or with one of her friends was its own reward.
I looked at myself in the mirror after Pamela went to work on Friday morning and decided I had too much body hair to make a convincing male stripper. I started by just shaving my chest, but I decided the underarm hair had to go as well. I got a couple of disposable razors and a bottle of hair remover lotion, and then I spent the next forty-five minutes in the shower. Using the hair remover was the worst part, since it smelled so bad. When I was finished the only hair below my neck was a small patch of pubic hair. My arms and legs, my butt, my balls, and even the crack of my ass were hairless and smooth.
Another look in the mirror told me I needed a tan, or rather, a better one. I made a quick trip to town and went to a tanning salon. I chose the "sunless tan" since I didn't have much time. It was basically a spray-on tan in a shower stall, and I decided to go all out by doing it in the nude. The result was a light bronze that looked very real. Not wanting to be seen by anyone I knew, I hurried home. Once there I stripped down for another look in the mirror.
Perhaps I overdid it with the shaving and the tanning, but it felt pretty good. Wanting to get into the role more completely than I ever had before, I donned the white wrist cuffs and collar along with the black bow tie, plus a black g-string. I stood semi-nude in front of the mirror for several minutes, going over how I was going to dance at Stephanie's party. My cock started to get hard as I considered the possibilities.
I had a strong urge to take it out and jack off right then and there but I wanted to save every drop of my juice for later on. Stephanie, or one of her guests, was going to have sex with me after the party and I wanted to deliver a heavy load. I had pretty much pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind over the last three days while I concentrated on perfecting my striptease, but that became harder to do as the time got closer.
I traded the g-string for the rest of my dance costume and went through a flawless (un)dress rehearsal. The difficult part came after, when I had to put the pants back together so they would fit just right. When Pamela came home that afternoon I offered to do my show again, just for her.
"I think I'll wait for the real thing," she told me. "It'll be more exciting that way, and almost like I'll be seeing you for the first time."
Pamela went upstairs to get ready for the party and I realized that she hadn't watched any of my rehearsals during the previous week. In fact, she had left for work early and stayed late for the last three days, as if she wanted to spend as little time with me as possible. We hadn't had sex all week and I was pretty sure she hadn't even seen me without clothes for the same period. It gave me a strange feeling, a feeling of anticipation and anxiety, to know that my wife was doing what she could to make her experience a memorable one. I hoped that was her reason, and not because I was going to have sex with another woman. She had repeatedly assured me that she didn't mind, but she might think differently after it was all over.
I had time for one more rehearsal, and then I put my costume back on and added a jacket to cover my bare chest. I packed some clothes to wear after the party, plus the CD with my dance music, and then I watched TV while I waited. When my wife appeared, she was dressed in a long black dress with a V-neckline that went all the way down to her navel. A thin silver chain across her chest was all that kept it from falling open and revealing everything. Best of all, the left side of the dress was slit almost to her hip.
