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 and proxy-incest 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. Anything depicted has no relation to past or current people and events. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.
The last section of this chapter contains proxy-incest role play. If you are turned off by such topics, close this story and find another one to stroke off to.
For Patti and Mark, thank you for sharing your unusual encounter with your daughter that spans this and the next chapter. You Californians are a special breed.
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Monday, February 19th. Two days to go.
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The sound of sultry music drifted through the air at Miami's premier gentleman's club, Randy Sandy's. Even at eight a.m., the atmosphere mixed with lively conversations and bursts of laughter as the scent of expensive cologne and perfume mingled with the smoky aroma of cigars. Monday morning crowds weren't the best, but those that were there were raucous, a product of all-nighters where no one wanted to go home yet. To the cheers of the bunch lined along the stage, a stunning redhead sauntered with a confidence well beyond her youthful age.
Stopping mid-platform, Chloe Ceallaigh, known to the regulars as Autumn Breeze, paused with hands on hips, giving the crowd a good look at her new three-piece lingerie. Long fiery red locks cascaded down around a white lace bra with cage-style cups, matching thong, and lace garter belt, the kind with thigh-high stockings clipped to the belt. It was her last performance of the four-to-nine a.m. shift she'd agreed to as a favor to another dancer needing the time off.
As the lights dimmed, a spotlight illuminated her youthful figure, and the heavy bass of the music reverberated through the hall, setting a rhythm for the seductive performance. With deliberate grace, she began to sway her body, movements fluid and enticing. Fingertips tracing a tantalizing path along soft skin, she glided them up and down her thighs, hands meeting in the thong's triangle and pulling at the material, hinting at the treasure below. A consummate professional even at twenty years of age, Chloe locked onto each individual, holding their attention captive for just a second, leaving them yearning for more as she moved on to the next leering customer; some men, some women. Sexuality radiated from every pore as she moved sensually, gyrating her hips and arching her back, revealing the subtle curve of her spine. The seductive sway of her pendulous breasts hypnotized the audience, drawing lustful gazes from every corner of the room.
Across the way, Charlie Weber looked on from the DJ booth where his friend, Em Cee Topper, spun tunes for dancers four hours a day. Today, Weber and his roommate, the mysterious Autumn, were lucky enough to have pulled the same shift. As the music got faster, Chloe went from playfully tousling her hair to swinging it from side to side. The young man's heart churned with a mix of intense emotions, just as Corey Miller had mentioned. Envy, hurt, and undeniable arousal coursed through his veins as the girl he loved was now whipping her red mane in circular motions, driving the men wild. Even before speaking with the older man, Charlie had felt these feelings, he just hadn't had a term for it. Corey had called it 'angst'; the strip club runner simply found it hot. Despite having witnessed Chloe's routine numerous times before, the familiar mixture of emotions surged within Charlie. They swirled like a tempest, tightening the knot in his throat while simultaneously igniting his cock with desires that he was only beginning to confront.
As he watched Chloe move with practiced grace, her body undulating and teasing, the boy couldn't deny the raw arousal that coursed through him. It was as if every sway of her hips, every seductive gesture, unearthed a dark corner of his thirst; a strange excitement in exploring uncharted territories within himself.
His gaze lingered on her exposed body, bare skin gleaming under the stage lights. The way her breasts jiggled with each enticing movement, the inviting curve of her ass, and the delicate clam of her pussy hidden beneath the thong --it all awakened a forbidden curiosity within him; thoughts that were both thrilling and unsettling. And not all of them involved Charlie.
Images flashed in his imagination--vivid scenes of Chloe not just performing for the crowd, but intimately entwined with other men. The thought of her succumbing to their advances, reveling in their touch, providing them the pleasure their wives at home could not give them, filled Charlie with a profound sense of arousal. It was a twisted desire he was only beginning to address. The
stew
that Corey Miller had alluded to.
The lump in his throat tightened further as guilt wistfully mingled conflicting thoughts of voyeurism and the cuckoldry that was stealthily scratching their way to the surface. Extreme jealousy clawed at his chest as he watched the lustful gazes of the men in the audience, responding to Chloe's enticement, blowing kisses at each man who showered her with bills, inviting them to take a peek. They hungered for the girl, and who could blame them? The way she moved her body, the way she teased and enticed, awakened a primal need deep in each, including Charlie. Who could resist the provocative bewitchment that sent a jolt of pleasure straight through every paying patron?
Chloe knew, all too well, and continued to command the stage. With a mischievous smile, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the black thong, slowly peeling the lacy fabric down, revealing a neatly trimmed crimson bush, coifed into a triangle with the lower point drawing eyes to the promised land. As the music pulsed through black-grilled speakers, the wound-up dancer unveiled the pink lips of her labia, flushed and swollen, glistening with her own arousal. No matter how many times she did this, it always made her horny. More so now that she suddenly realized Charlie was watching her from afar. Recent discussions about advancing their relationship had been weighing heavily on her mind.
Even from his perch by the DJ, the young man could see her wet clamshell, drawing the eyes of every mesmerized onlooker. The soft, velvety texture encouraged further exploration, but everyone knew it was for looking, not touching, a journey that none would ever take. With the thong clinging to her knees, Chloe's eyes sparkled as she turned around, arching her back and pushed her round, firm ass outward. Mouths fell open as the crowd caught a tantalizing glimpse of her exposed pussy from this new angle. Smooth, dewy lips of an aroused vulva parted slightly, inviting visions of what it would be like to doggy the beautiful entertainer.
Arching further, she spread that perfectly sculpted ass, revealing the tight entrance to her brown starfished holiest of holies, shaking it about before kicking the thong aside. With a smile, the redhead straightened, bringing her hands to the back of the bra, fingers deftly unclasping the lacy strip. Teasingly, Chloe lowered the bra straps, allowing the delicate fabric to graze against her smooth, pale skin. Her breasts, perfectly shaped and full of young exuberance, pressed against the white lace, their roundness outlined beneath her hands. The room buzzed with anticipation as she toyed with the audience, nipples pert and veiled through the sheer material.
With each deliberate move, the star stripper lowered the garment further, revealing more creamy flesh, inch by titillating inch. Finally, to an eruption of cheers and whistles, she paraded around, shaking what her mother had given her, sitting high on a proud chest, nips erect and rubbery. Naked now except for the garter belt and stockings, Chloe worked the room, relishing in the fives and tens that were being shoveled toward her. As usual, the big tippers got a squat and spread; fifties or more got a closer peek and even a sniff.
Fingertips traced a path along her body as she danced, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. They stepped along the curve of her waist, over the gentle swell of her hips, before finally coming to rest between her thighs. As the song neared its end, Chloe's fingertips grazed the delicate lips of her fully exposed pussy, moist with mock anticipation. Her touch was both tender and urgent, an arousal evident in the way her breath hitched, and eyelids fluttered. And then...the music ended to an eruption of praise as the crimson beauty gathered discarded garments and left the stage, leaving plenty of overheated patrons lusting for more.
Including one very aroused, twenty-one-year-old lovesick boy.
+++++
Lauren squinted against the bright morning sunlight as she stepped off Myles Kanzanka's luxurious yacht and onto the solid footing of the pier. It was now early Monday morning, and she only had ninety minutes to get back to her apartment, shower, and get to the office.
God, she hated Mondays
. Especially where she'd had little sleep the night before.
Walking alongside the marina, then crossing over Biscayne Boulevard, memories of the wild threesome with Ricky and Lucy - or whatever their names were - still lingered. The excursion had promised a perfect blend of sun-soaked fun and intense sex, and it delivered on all counts. The married couple had been delightful, both of them skilled in the art of pleasure and they fucked like animals possessed. It was a shame that she would probably never see them again.
Checking the time, Lauren noticed a string of missed calls and text messages from Corey. A twinge of guilt hit as she called him back, tempered only by the knowledge that he would soon be with her again.
Pulling a strand of hair behind her ear, Lauren dialed his number.
+++++
Chloe breezed through the dimly lit room, her body glistening with a soft sheen of sweat borne from the exhilarating performance. Long, shiny red hair cascaded around sleek shoulders and onto her back, the only thing masking her nakedness besides a fresh thong - orange in color this time - and high heels. Shoes clicking on the cement floor, she swayed her hips like a beacon, advertising availability as she went from table to table, soliciting lap dances. She would have preferred to just end the shift and go home, but there were bills to pay and a 401k to invest in.
Stopping at several regular businessmen who occasionally came in to have 'tits n eggs', Chloe leaned in close, whispering words only they could hear, making their eyes widen and twinkle. Realizing that this day they were only there for pancakes and eye candy, she left them, fingertips tracing starched white sleeves which successfully planted ideas in their heads for the next visit.
The table beside that one was much different; a rowdy group of college kids who should have been in class but decided to skip instead. Their eager eyes had followed the redhead's every step since appearing after her set and suddenly turned all shy when the stripper playfully tugged on one guy's polo, causing snickers from the others. While taking her to the back room would have made their day, unlike the businessmen, it became clear none could afford her.
Like the good huntress she was, Chloe then spied a meek-looking man sitting by himself in the rear of the club. Mild-mannered and reserved, he was typical of the men who frequented Sandy's. A guy - married, maybe not - who wasn't getting what they needed out of their current relationship and wanted more. Here, they knew there was no judgment, no ridicule, no pressure. And pretty girls that smiled at them. What could be better? Experienced sex workers knew these types could not be rushed. Sometimes, before opening their wallet, they needed someone to just talk to them over a friendly drink. Sometimes not. And so it was that after running an errand for the assistant floor manager, Charlie found his friend - the object of his unrequited love - sitting down next to the milquetoast, smiling in that way she had of making one feel special. As the two chatted, the young man's arousal grew, knowing the dancer had one hooked and they'd soon be disappearing.
As predicted, the boy watched as she and the meek, nervous man finally rose from the table and began walking towards the VIP corridor, just beyond the yellow-shirted security guard. Patrons at other tables stopped what they were doing and watched as the girl strutted by with an ever-seductive smile, long red hair cascading down her naked back like a flaming waterfall. Her gait itself was incendiary enough, but coupled with those leg-defining high heels and a thong that accentuated firm, round buttocks...her path was nothing less than molten lava.
