The following is a work of fiction – for now. It describes a fantasy I fully intend to make as real as possible. Those who have advice regarding the scenario I spin below are welcome to contact me, I am pleased to hear from you!
Here in Houston, they have what are euphemistically referred to as "Private Modeling Studios" or "One-on-One Lingerie Shows". Of course, what it's really all about is thirty minutes to an hour with a stripper in a little room without distractions, and the line between stripper and whore gets pretty blurry in there. The base price for a half hour is $100, with some places charging as much as $200 and others leaving it open insofar as what you tip. Some places offer a two-girl show, at twice the price of course. Don't ask me about the details, though, because I don't have them - I've never been a customer to such a place.
That, however, is going to change. For the past few months I've been socking a bit of cash here and there away from my wife's prying eyes, and now I'm just waiting for my opportunity to have her busy and out of the house for an evening so I can sneak away and satisfy my curiosity. See, I love to watch two women make out. I've always imagined how great it would be to be part of a threesome with two hot ladies, and I've long since accepted that the opportunity to try it isn't going to ever drop in my lap - especially since my wife is definitely not open to the idea (this is real life, after all). So, I decided long ago that if I were ever to be able to actually experience my fantasies, I'd have to pay for it.
Perhaps I'm a cad and a jerk for doing such a thing as a married man, but the sad fact is that my wife is utterly dull in bed, when she's up for sex at all. Once a month would be better than what I'm getting, and when she moves I wonder if there's something wrong. Her sole turn-on is for me to whisper how much I love her and what she means to me - which I don't have a problem with, but why the hell does sex ALWAYS have to be about our undying devotion to each other? I like for sex to be deep and emotional, sure, but I also like it to be playful and raunchy sometimes. My wife, though I love her dearly, is a lousy fuck. She shows next to no enthusiasm, can't stand to be French kissed, hates having her nipples sucked, is disgusted by oral sex, refuses to wear sexy lingerie, won't shave, won't role-play, won't get on top... it's literally gotten to the point where jerking off is preferable, and I have a fairly hyperactive libido which needs satisfying three or four times a week. So in the end, I really don't feel too bad about going out just one time and getting a pro to do what she won't. Frankly, she should probably consider herself lucky that I don't have affairs at the office.
Anyway, enough about my problems. As of now, I have the necessary $200 which my wife knows nothing about in my wallet, I've selected a place to go, and I've even created a 30-minute CD of sexy music to play during my session, so I can play it again later and enjoy the memory. I'd give the name of the studio, but the fact is that what I'm hoping to enjoy is illegal in Houston and I don't want to cause trouble, so let's just call it "Trixie's". Trixie's is the kind of place that offers a flat $100 per girl per half-hour rate, which is good for someone like me who doesn't want to think about money while the show's going on; I'd rather pay and enjoy. They offer two-girl shows, so that's covered. I have no idea how attractive the women are and one cannot necessarily trust the advertising, so we'll just have to hope for the best on that one. Still, I would imagine they have pictures at the place itself, so I won't be going in blind - if the girls aren't hot enough, I'll just walk.
The reader might wonder at this point, "Why are you writing this now? Why not write it after the fact and tell us what happened?" Well, there are four reasons. One is that I feel like spinning a fantasy right now and this seems as good a plot as any. Two, I may not ever really get the chance to follow through, or I may chicken out, and then it would never get written. Three, the reality probably won't live up to the fantasy, and if I'm going to tell a story it might as well be a good one, not a disappointing one. Four, I can always follow this up with a "sequel" that tells what really happened.
And so, I begin the fantasy! Imagine a summer evening in Houston... my wife has been invited on a "girls' night out" and will be out and about from about 6:00 to 1:00. As usual, I haven't had sex for three weeks, and the last time we did was pretty lackluster. The stage is set!
* * * * *
"Don't wait up for me, okay sweetheart? I'll be out with the girls pretty late!"
"No problem," I said to my wife. "Actually, I'll probably go use the pool. It's warm tonight."
"Sounds like a plan. Oh, and I might not answer if you call, we could go to a movie."
"That's all right, I can't think of any reason why I'd need to call. Have fun!"
"You too!" She kissed me and headed out the door. I waited until I heard her car drive away before I moved, my heart pounding in anticipation of what was in store for my evening.
First, I jumped in the shower and scrubbed myself first-date clean, noting that I hadn't felt this kind of anticipation since I
was
going on my first date. I shaved my face baby's-bottom smooth, and while I was at it I carefully shaved the hair from my testicles as well. It might seem strange, but I've found that my sensitivity is increased tenfold when my happysacks are naked, and I wanted to enjoy the experience to the full.
Fresh from the shower, I applied a good measure of anti-perspirant and a little "invention" of my own: a couple squirts of Drakkar mixed with scent-free lotion. This goes on the face and hands, and on special occasions on the chest as well. I tried it a while back before a session with my wife, and she actually seemed to enjoy the sex for once, so there had to be some value in it.
Clothes weren't entirely important, but I wanted to look sharp, so I chose an all-black outfit with good shoes and a sport coat. A couple of Altoids for breath, a quick comb through the hair, and I was ready for what lay ahead.
The drive to Trixie's took a good half hour, and it was difficult to keep my mind on the road. I kept wondering what it would really be like to watch two women make out right in front of me, and whether the rumors I had heard were true - that the rule about no touching was worth only the paper it was printed on, and that they really might turn their attentions to me if I asked. I'd be satisfied with the show by itself if that were all there was, but of course I wanted more!
I arrived at Trixie's just as the last glow of sunlight faded in the sky, parked my car in back, and made sure I had what I needed. The only things I intended to bring in were the money to pay for the night's services, my driver's license to prove my age if it were necessary, and the CD I'd mixed for the occasion. My credit cards and everything else in my wallet was securely locked in the glove box, and I locked the car up tight as well.
The building had boarded windows and little indication of what went on inside; those who wanted to go in knew what and where it was, those who didn't were better off ignoring it. A simple pink neon sign over the door said, "Trixie's Studio" and a smaller sign to the left said, "Open". That was all. I felt the butterflies rising and popped another Altoid to calm my stomach. I wished I had a stiff drink.
I opened the door and entered a lobby lit mostly with blacklights and lava lamps. The sofas were large and upholstered with velvet. On the tables in front of them were magazines with advertisements for adult services and video stores, and around the walls were 8x10 images of hot women in a variety of sexy poses. A beaded curtain on one wall was parted to reveal a window, and at that window stood a hot-looking young blonde woman.
She was probably about twenty years old, and dressed in a bikini top that left almost nothing to the imagination, not that one could have imagined much better than what she had. Her breasts were round and full, the nipples poking out slightly through the fabric. She smiled at me as I came in, tossing her hair back and wiggling her shoulders slightly to shake her tits a bit.
"Hi sweetie," she said brightly. "Are you looking for some fun tonight?"
"You know it," I replied. "But, I've never been to a place like this. I hope you can give me some idea of what to expect."