This narrative is part of a multi-part story that explores the sexual exploits of a Midwestern couple who wanted a change in locale, but are experiencing much, much more.
Warning: subject matter includes hotwife/cuckold/group sex topics. This story is tagged as such, so if you do not care for these types of tales, move on. You are your only enemy if you continue reading.
Those that do choose to continue, please know reading previous chapters will help you better understand the characters and their journey.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.
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December 17th. Ten weeks to go.
The bright yellow Kia Soul looked out of place in a neighborhood primarily comprised of pool halls and adult toy shops. It's driver, a young man barely into his 20s, swiveled his head to and fro as the import rolled through the dimly lit streets of Little Havana. The coordinates his friend Chloe had sent him were just ahead, but there wasn't a soul around, save for a homeless person here and there. With a bit of confusion, he slowed to a stop in front of an Asian grocery store, long closed for the evening. Only a few run-down tenements lined this stretch of the road, with a dark access alley off to one side.
The youngster was about to verify the location when he saw a woman stumble from the shadows, desperately tugging on a football jersey in a futile attempt to cover her nether regions. As the tattered apparition approached the car, the white of her thighs and the slit between them were plainly visible. Eyes wide, the youngster threw the compact into park and hurriedly grabbed a sleeping bag from the back seat.
"I'm Charlie. Are you Lauren?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He wrapped the warm material around the frail specter and helped her into the front seat.
She nodded and breathed a sigh of relief as the boy put the car into gear. "Thank you," she managed.
"Don't mention it. Chloe told me where to find you."
"You saved me from some real embarrassment. Don't worry, I don't live too far from here."
Charlie shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road. "I've been asked to take you to Sandy's."
"But I can't. I'm half naked."
The young man chuckled. "So are most of the women there." Then, seeing his ill-timed joke had fallen flat, added, "No worries, we'll go in the back door."
Lauren winced at the reference. Hers had just been take viciously and without lube, and right now it itched like hell.
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Few at Randy Sandy's gave notice to the young buck who had become somewhat of a mascot backstage as he helped the chick with the sleeping bag through the employee entrance. Navigating past a small kitchen, the pair ended up in a long and narrow dressing room with two or three half-clad showgirls.
"You can wait for Chloe here," Charlie motioned to a stool in front of a brightly lit vanity.
Lauren sat down obediently, loosening the thick cloth around her waist. Several dancers glanced briefly at the woman with the smeared makeup, sizing her up, but thought nothing of it as they made their way to the stage. They'd see lots of things at the strip club and little surprised them anymore.
Suddenly, the DJ's voice made a blustery announcement through the overmodulated PA.
"Allllllrightttttt, Sandies, let's give it up for our own Autumn Breeze! Nice work out there, Autumn! Next up for your Saturday night enjoyment, please welcome Cherry and Jade!"
A few minutes later, 20-year-old Chloe appeared in the dressing room, slightly out of breath, a glistening sheen of sweat covering her near naked body. Her splotchy red face turned to one of concern when she saw the disheveled brunette.
"Are you okay?" the dancer asked with a frown, handing Lauren a bottle of water. "What happened? It looks like you've been dragged through a ditch."
Lauren choked up as she told her about the Cubans, the emotions pouring out in one unabashed stream of consciousness.
"Wow," Chloe's eyebrows arched, "I gotta say, that was incredibly stupid."
"I know, I know. I wasn't thinking."
Chloe stood and tossed her a pair of sweatpants. "Listen, we need to have a talk. But I have to do one more set. Then we'll get you home."
With that, the sagacious entertainer turned to leave. Lauren grabbed her hand just before she disappeared from the dressing room.
"Chloe?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for helping me. Why did you have Charlie bring me here and not take me home?"
The dancer smiled kindly at rumpled creature.
"Maybe because I like you. Maybe because I wanted to personally make sure you were okay."
Above appreciative clapping from club patrons, the DJ once again began making his sensuous introductions.
"Or maybe I just wanted to see you again."
The women held an affable gaze until the music began its rhythmic thumping.
"Alright Sandies! Here she is, back on the main stage, let's welcome the
draft
that always
warms
our hearts, Miss...Autumn...Breeze!"
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Thirty minutes after Chloe's sizzling set, she and Charlie helped the older woman into her apartment. Soon, a freshly showered Lauren appeared in a fluffy white robe to a batch of smoothies the young man had whipped up with whatever he could find in the fridge. Settling on the couch in the small living area, they all sipped the cold concoctions in silence, smiling like a bunch of teenagers at the ice cream store.
Eventually, Chloe tapped Charlie's knee. There were some girl things she wanted to discuss, and it would be best if he wasn't around.
"It's been a long night, Chaz. I'm going to hang out for a while and then catch a taxi. Thanks for the solid, man."
Nodding somewhat reluctantly, the boy said his goodbyes and Lauren showed him to the door with a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I owe you one," she said sincerely, once more acknowledging his help.
After Charlie left, the office manager sat down next to the young dancer.
"He looks awfully young. What's his story?"
Chloe looked at the floor and smirked. "Well, let's see. He's a year older than me. We were both raised in the same orphanage, and we've hung out ever since. Charlie's been like a big brother to me, although there's always been something else bubbling beneath the surface. When I started working at Sandy's, he hung around, first as a customer, then offering to help here and there. Didn't take long to endear himself to the girls and staff. Now he's just part of the scenery, being a gopher and watching out for us."
"But you don't feel the same way?"
"Maybe," Chloe sighed. "Doubt we'll ever find out though. I friend-zoned him a long time ago. I think that ship has sailed."
"Ah, unrequited love."
"Not that simple. I
do
have feelings for him...and he'd be the perfect boyfriend...but that's exactly the reason I don't pursue it." She paused, trying to find the right words, "You see, I get paid to be objectified. Whether its stripping or escorting, it's a situation that most guys can't handle in a relationship. I mean, some might, but they're usually into that kind of thing to begin with."
Lauren coughed.
Like my Corey
.
"So why not let Charlie decide what he can and can't handle?"
"Someday, yeah, I might. Right now, I think he cringes enough watching me take my clothes off, much less knowing good and well what I do in the back room and on my side job. As a friend, he tolerates it. As something more? Not sure he has the temperament."
Lauren couldn't help but make the connection to her husband.
"Or maybe he could learn to enjoy it."
The dancer looked at the older woman curiously but let it go.
"Enough about me," Chloe wagged her finger. "You know you took a
huge
risk tonight. Forget about them maybe stiffing you, they could've left you for dead in that alley and you'd be known to Miami-Dade County as just another a cold case."
Lauren shook her head, eyes watering. "I know, I know."
"Tell me something. I really want to understand. Your husband's out of town, and you have a lot of itches to scratch. I get that. Not much different from the cast of thousands that come into Sandy's. Or you know, hire someone for sex without strings. But most of them aren't selling themselves to get what they need. What on earth possessed you to go down an alley with strangers as a wannabe?"
Dabbing her eyes, the Iowan wife contemplated the word "possessed". That's what it felt like sometimes. Kumiho?
"I-I-I...it's, uh, you know, something that keeps me up at night."
Chloe stroked Lauren's hair, trying to ease her mind. "Now we're getting somewhere. A fantasy? About selling yourself?"
"Hmm," the brunette breathed slowly, her eyes rolling back as the girl's fingers caressed her locks. "But not
just
that."
"Tell me."
"I really can't."
"Yes, you can."
Lauren exhaled. "My dreams. I get picked up by a pig of a man and we do it in the filthiest of places. He slaps me, roughs me up. And God help me, I love it."
"So, tonight must have really hit the mark?"
"Yeah, it...it did."
The girls took a drink of their smoothies.
"You like it rough, huh?" Chloe smiled, openly tonguing the straw her mouth. "A little submissive, are we?"
Lauren shrugged. "I never thought about it. I mean, not until that night with Corey's friend."
"What? You fucked his
friend
? A little close to home, isn't it?"
Shit. I just don't know when to keep my mouth shut.
Could this night get any weirder? Reluctantly, but almost with a sense of cleansing, she proceeded to tell the stripper everything about the past six months. The initial flirting, how phone sex led to the threesome with Max Bemer. All the other trysts.
