A Stripper Is Born

A Stripper is Born(This was my second revision/Not second chapter)

If you read the first two parts of the account, you'll get more out of this. I will probably just encompass a few of the first few memories from those nights...beginning with her return home...I'm really not sure even as I write this how much I'll try to capture in this little snapshot

I waited at home as it approached 2:30am, not really knowing what time she'd be back. All I was sure of by this point was that my wife had most certainly been nude on stage this night. Again, as I had over and over, I pictured her stripping out of her bikini and swaying to the music in nothing but a pair of high heels. I pictured her long, lean body, her medium sized tits, and her pussy on display, her bush a strip about two inches wide above her cleanly shaven slit.

I had already jacked off a few times, but I knew it was no use as my cock was again rock hard. I then pictured the really painful part, the private dance room just off to one side in the Tanga Lounge. As I pictured my leading a man by his hand toward that room and I lowered my boxers knowing I had to cum again.

I had just started to stroke when I heard her key in the door. She seemed to be having trouble with it so I quickly headed to unlock the door. As I moved toward the door, my lust evaporated and I was again only concerned, wondering what damage had been done to our relationship. As I opened the door I saw her smiling. "Thank you," she said, "I guess I'm a little tired and couldn't find the right key."

She brushed past me and I immediately followed.

She set down her purse and her bag that contained her bikini and her heels.

I waited a moment before speaking. "Are you ok?" I asked.

She smiled and moved toward me. I expected a hug to tell me things were ok. Instead she draped her arms around my neck and planted a long kiss on me, lots of tongue and containing a passion that had been missing lately. She took my hand and said, "Let's go to bed. I have a lot to tell you." She released my hand and was already stripping off her clothes as she walked through the door into the bedroom. I watched her undress thinking, oh my god, other men saw this tonight. My wife was nude in front of other men. She slid into bed and just as I was joining her, she popped out of bed saying, "oh I almost forgot." She giggled a bit as she walked naked into the living room. She came back and was holding a bunch of bills.

(Now, those of you who have dated dancers know that they often exaggerate the money they make. It is a matter of pride for them. Each night is an exhilarating or brutal commentary of their attractiveness, their sexiness, or incorrectly many simply assume their self worth. So, they lie, to the other girls, but not to themselves.

That night she proudly showed me the money and said, "two hundred and sixty dollars." She was grinning broadly. "I worked for about 4 hours and made two hundred and sixty dollars. It would take me three or four days of waiting tables to make this." She was standing naked beside the bed now. She was grinning broadly. She was clearly very pleased with the night's activities. I was not and she could tell. "What's wrong?" she asked, "We can pay our bills this way."

I looked my naked wife and wondered just what she'd done for that money. Had men touched her? Was she a whore now? I think she could tell what I was thinking because she moved to lie beside me, leaned over and rubbed my hard cock. She leadedd her face close to mine, kissed my cheek and said,"I'm so fucking wet." And to prove it she took hand and guided it to her pussy. She leaned back and then spread her legs lewdly and I saw her pussy was in fact glistening as my fingers found a hot wetness, so hot I was momentarily shocked. "I need to get fucked," she said, "now."

I moved over her and quickly sank into her very hot, very wet pussy. She sort of sighed contentedly for a moment and started to rock her hips and I moved slowly up and down. She closed her eyes, not looking at me and I had to know what she was thinking.

"Tell me," I said, "how was it?"

Her response was another surprise, "It was like I always dreamed it would be." Always? How long had she been wanting to be a stripper? She continued, "I was nervous at first. I was in my bikini for the first song and I was really wondering if I could do it. It was crowded and I think they were paying attention to me because I'm new."

"Crowded?" I asked.

"Every seat at the stage was full and there were men standing behind them." She thrust a little harder as she spoke. "I was nervous, but as soon as I took my top off I felt totally comfortable. I could tell from the looks on their faces that they liked what they saw. After that, I wanted to take my bottoms off, but I had to wait until the next song." She moved her hand to her clit as she spoke. I'd cum so many times waiting for her that I was in no danger of cumming yet. She quickened her pace on her clit and continued, "They were staring at my pussy...just staring at it. They wanted me so bad." I felt her pussy pulse a few times as she said this.

OK, so she was clearly not traumatized by the night's events. God I married a little whore I thought to myself. I had mixed feelings at that moment: what kind of girl was she and god did her pussy feel good. And if I'm honest I started picturing her with the other girls from the club, licking them, them licking her. But I was worried about her, her sense of herself and asked again, "So it was ok?"

Part of me hoped it was not totally ok and that she'd say something like, yes, but that was a one-time thing. I can't do it again. Or, I'll do it a few more nights but that's it.

Her reply made my heart sink even as my cock hardened a bit more, "Oh my god, I'm going to love doing this." She stopped moving and opened her eyes, "I loved it. I loved those men seeing my pussy, my tits." And then she dropped the bombshell, "and I loved the private dances."

I pictured it then, her in the back room, grinding herself on a horny man as he held her tits in his hands, his mouth, his hands on her ass. I was suddenly a bit angry, but I didn't let it show. I was hurt. I was jealous. I felt just a bit like crying, but I was so, so hard. I began to fuck her again.

"Tell me about it," I said, my tone revealed nothing of my inner turmoil. "I want to hear about it."

She smiled up at me as we fucked and said, "roll over, I want to ride you." When we'd shifted and she was seated astride me she began to rock slowly and said, "they were so nice there. All the managers were...."she paused as she was sort of catching breaths..."so....nice...," she was rubbing her clit now. She continued, "they knew I was nervous and so didn't pressure me. They were really, really nice."

"I get it, " I said a bit irritated, "they were nice." Of course they were nice, I thought. You showed them your married pussy. I felt a bit of humiliation as I pictured her standing next to them in their preferred booth. Naked? I wondered, or in her bikini and heels. Either way, I wondered then if they'd laughed a bit at the thought of me at home while they had my wife with them.

"They knew I was nervous," she repeated, "and they were talking with this customer, a regular, who they called Coach." I automatically pictured the guy from cheers which frankly I found creepy.

"How old was he?" I asked.

She was still rubbing her clit, slowly riding me as she answered, "Probably sixty or so, I didn't ask. Anyway, he laughed when he heard I'd never danced before and offered to break me in." I stopped moving.

"Break you in? What does that mean?" I couldn't keep my tone from turning a bit sharper.

"My first dance," she said, "he said he'd be my first one. The managers loved the idea and said he was a good guy. I wasn't sure still, but they said I should go with him so we went in the back." Her pussy began to tighten at the memory and I could tell she was close. I pulled her hand away. I knew that if she came, she would, like many of us, return to her senses. Things that were ok before she came, were off limits or repulsive to her afterward.

"Tell me," I said as I fucked her, "Did he touch you?"

"Oh my god yes," she said and freed her wrist from my hand so she could resume toying with her clit. "He touched me everywhere." I was surprised at this because I knew they weren't supposed to allow them to touch their pussy.

I started to ask, "But I thought..."

She knew where I was going and answered my question before I could finish, "He said that since it was my time he would help me, tell me what I could do and couldn't do and what would get me fined." She saw me look at her like she was an idiot. I couldn't help it. God was she gullible or what. "Actually," she said, "I was grateful. He was really nice."

I put aside my skepticism and asked, "Fined?"

"Yes, if the girls get caught doing things they aren't supposed to, they get fined. Twenty dollars." She was loving all this I thought. She was entering the sleazy world with a glee of a kid on Christmas morning. Again, I wondered, just how far did the girls really go in those back rooms.

"So why did he touch you everywhere?"I asked.

"He said he needed to show me how close I could let them go without getting fined." She smiled as I rolled her onto her back again. I was getting close. "He was rubbing right at the edge, telling me 'this is ok' and then he slid a finger into me and said 'this isn't'" She moaned a bit as she said it.

I began to hammer into her and I couldn't stop the next words, "My wife got fingered didn't she? Didn't you? You got fingered by an old man..."

She had her mouth open, gasping out her words, "yes baby, he fingered me...he put two fingers in me..he was sucking my tits and he fingered me." And saying that, she came.

She came and moaned. She didn't usually moan, or at least not often, but she moaned and said, "and I made him cum." And then I came too.

I rolled off her and she lay there a moment, with her legs still wide open. Still making little fucking motions into the air, maybe five or ten seconds she keep her thighs wide and made little thrusts as though she wanted more.

Reality came back to me. Worry came back to me almost instantly. I pulled the covers over her, covering that body that so many men had seen tonight. She'd been exposed to more than all the man in her past combined in a single night.

I looked at my wife and wondered if we'd be ok. She simply looked back and smiled and said, "I'm going to sleep now. I'll tell you the rest in the morning." The rest? I thought to myself, Christ there's more? Good god, what would she tell me tomorrow.

She was quickly asleep, but I wasn't. I alternately stared at the ceiling and then over and at her. I kept staring at her, my little prim and proper wife, the daughter of an engineer, the sorority girl. I finally gave up and went into the living room to sit on the couch.

One last time for the night, I took my cock in hand and pictured it. What made me angry was knowing that the managers saw it all happen, knowing they had seen it and I hadn't. They had looked at me like I didn't belong, the preppy college graduate with the cute, tall wife. But they'd be more than happy to help my wife on her journey. They'd looked at me with the hint of scorn in the eyes coming through. I was a different person now, she was a different person now. She was a stripper. In the days to come, thousands of men would see her nude. And she made men cum and a lucky few, made her cum...I'll tell those stories too. I have to.