This story is the eighth episode in a series entitled "Awakenings". If you have not read the previous seven episodes of this series, I encourage you do so before beginning this chapter.
I remind you again that I write cuckold stories. While I try to make them loving cuckold stories, they do depict an alternative life style. If you're offended or upset by stories about sexual attitudes and behaviors that are different from your own I strongly suggest that you find something else to read.
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That night I stayed at a Motel 6 outside of Palm Springs, California. There was a steak house near the motel. I had a small sirloin and a salad for dinner. After dinner I returned to my motel and logged on to the Internet.
There was an email from Jeanne. I opened it.
"Dear Michael,
I am safely at home. Thank you for a wonderful weekend.
As soon as I arrived home I called the girls and told them about our plans for Christmas. They're both excited and certain they can arrange the time off of work. Paul will be coming too.
If we can get the tickets we thought we would fly down on Christmas eve and return home on New Year's Day. Will that work for you? When I hear from you I'll make the airline reservations.
I miss you already. I love you so much. Thanksgiving is going to be lonely without you.
I'll call you at the end of the week.
Love Jeanne"
I wrote back
"Dear Jeanne,
Thank you for letting me know that you arrived safely at home. I would have worried.
I'm happy that the girls are excited about Christmas in San Antonio. My schedule is wide open so those dates are fine with me. Go ahead and buy the airline tickets. Because this will be the peak holiday traveling time the seats are going to be expensive, so why don't you fly first class. I'll call Ruth in the morning and have her transfer some extra money to your checking account. I'll try to make the hotel reservations tomorrow morning.
I had a wonderful weekend too. Thank you.
Love
Michael"
After sending the email I decided it was time to investigate the cuckold websites. I googled the word cuckold. I found several definitions, but then I saw an ad for a web site. I clicked on the link. It opened. You could be a member, but I quickly realized that you could read much of the content without joining.
There was a story section. I opened it and found a full page of cuckold oriented stories. I started perusing them. They were all by amateur writers, some were more skillfully written than others. They also dealt with a wide range of fantasies. It was immediately obvious that Jeanne had been correct. For many men sexual domination seemed to be part of the cuckold fantasy.
I skimmed several stories. While I didn't find the sexual domination and humiliation in them particularly appealing they were still interesting. They reinforced my growing belief that the sexual fantasies and practices of consenting adults are nobody else's business. The site also showed the number of times each story had been viewed. The numbers were in the thousands. Clearly, there were a large number of people who were at least curious about the cuckold fantasy.
It was after midnight when I finally shut off my computer and went to sleep.
The next morning I drove south to Tucson, Arizona. I arrived in the middle of the afternoon. It was Monday, November 19th. The sun was shining and the temperature was 84 degrees. As I parked in front of a Motel 6 I decided that Tucson would be my home for the next month.
After checking into the motel and unloading my gear I I decided to do a little exploring. About a mile from my motel I found two municipal golf courses and a driving range. I also found a steak house, several interesting looking Mexican restaurants and an IHOP. I had everything I needed.
On the way back to my motel I passed a bar, Danny's Lounge. A neon sign above the door caught my attention. In simple block letters it read; "Exotic Dancers Monday through Saturday noon to 2:00 AM".
I'm a voyeur. I love looking at naked women. Prior to marrying Jeanne I regularly enjoyed strip clubs. Marriage, manhood and concern about my standing in the community caused me to abandon that pleasure. Other than a couple of stag parties, I hadn't set foot inside a strip club since Jeanne and I got engaged.
Out of habit I continued driving, but I wanted to stop. For the past twenty-seven years every time I passed a strip club I've wanted to stop. I didn't, not even once. I always resisted the temptation.
Now as I drove back to my motel I asked myself why I didn't stop. I didn't have a reasonable answer for that question. Loyalty to my wife? She was regularly giving blow jobs to men she met at Brady's Pub. Concern about what people might think? I was almost two thousand miles away from home. The opinion of my daughters? They were both avowed devotees of free love and I'd just learned that my oldest daughter was a dominatrx.
Unable to think of a single valid reasons not to stop I turned right at the next corner and circled back to Danny's Lounge. It was four o'clock in the afternoon. There were maybe a dozen cars in the parking lot. Excited, I parked and walked into the bar.
Inside I was greeted by a large, broad shouldered young man who looked like he could have played linebacker in the NFL. "I'm sorry, I have to pat you down."
Surprised, I asked; "Are you worried about weapons?"
Shaking his head he answered; "Nah, cell phone cameras; the girls don't want to end up on You Tube."
I laughed. "Okay, I left my phone in the car."
After giving my pockets a quick pat, he said; "Go on in and have a good time."
"Is there a cover charge."
"Only on Friday and Saturday nights after 5:00."
"All right." I went into the bar. It was dark. I took a moment to let my eyes get used to the lack of light and then I surveyed the place. On the left side of the room two young women and five men were sitting at a horse shoe shaped bar.
A stage filled the center of the room. The stage was actually two adjacent ovals. The first stage had a stripper pole. A young blonde wearing only a G string was twirling around the pole.
There was a small wooden chair on the stage nearest to me. A young black girl, also wearing only a g string was sitting on the chair. Her legs were spread wide. She was lasciviously rubbing her cunt. A middle aged man was standing next to the stage in front of her. He was holding a five dollar bill.
There were about two dozen small round tables surrounding the stage. Each table had two or three chairs. Six of the tables were occupied by lone middle aged men. Four of the men had young women sitting in their laps. The other two were watching the girls on the two stages.
The outer walls of the bar were lined with brown vinyl couches separated by end tables. Four men, all middle aged were discreetly spaced on the couches getting lap dances.
In the far left corner of the bar there was a glass door. Above the door a neon sign read, "VIP Room".
I found a table and sat down. As soon as I was seated a young woman in a short skirt and skimpy blouse carrying a tray came over to me and asked; "What can I get you to drink?"
"How about a Diet Coke."
"Is Pepsi okay?"
"It'll be just fine."
"I'll be right back."
She hurried off to the bar. A moment later a slender young blonde approached me. She couldn't have been older than twenty. She said, "Hi sweetie, my name is Candy. Would you like some company?"
Candy was a pretty girl, but I had two daughters older than she was. Shaking my head, I said; "Thank you, but I think I'll just watch for a little while."
Smiling, she said; "Okay, if you change your mind give me a wave."
"I'll do that."
She walked away. A moment later the waitress returned with my Pepsi. Actually it was two Pepsis. As she set them on my table she said; "It's happy hour, they're two for one. That will be six dollars."
I smiled.
She shrugged. "You didn't have to pay a cover."
My dad taught me that the first time you go to a new hotel or restaurant it pays to spread a little money around. Smiling, I said; "You're absolutely right." I handed her a twenty dollar bill and said; "The change is for you."
Grinning, the waitress gave me back a ten and four ones and then she lifted her skirt. She pulled the crotch of her thong out exposing her shaved pussy and said; "Nice guys get to put their tips in here."
As I folded the bills and slipped them behind the crotch of her panties, I said; "Clearly it pays to be nice."
She kissed my cheek and whispered; "Honey in this place that's very true." And then she added; "We have several women here who love middle aged men. I'll make sure one of them stops to see you."
Behind me a voice said; "Connie, I'm already here."
Connie smiled. "This is Chantel. She'll take very good care of you."
I turned. Chantel was a tall slender black woman. Her smooth skin was the shade of rich coffee laced with cream. Her long hair reddish brown hair was pulled back into a pony tail. She wore a white lace brassiere that barely contained her large breasts and a matching white lace skirt that couldn't have been more than six inches long.
I gawked.
Smiling, Chantel said; "You like my outfit."
"Very much."
"You told Candy that you just wanted to watch for a little while, but I'm wondering if you might prefer the company of an older woman."
"I have two daughters older than Candy."
"A man of principle, I like that. May I join you?"
"Please do."
Chantel walked around my table so that she was standing in front of me. "May I sit on your lap?"
"Of course."
Grinning, Chantel sat down and put her arm around my shoulder. Her large brassiere covered breasts were now inches from my face. "You have me at a disadvantage. Connie told you that my name is Chantel, but I don't know your name."
"My name is Michael."
"Michael? Not Mike?"
"I prefer Michael."
"Actually I do too."
I smiled.
Chantel said; "So Michael, can I interest you in a dance?" As she asked, she leaned over and rubbed her large breasts in my face.
Chuckling, I asked; "How much does a dance cost?"
"Ten dollars here and fifteen dollars if we move to one of the couches."
"Let's move to the couches."
Standing up, Chantel picked up my two Diet Pepsis.
I said, "One is enough." and then I started to walk towards the closest couch. It was near the entrance.
Chantel said; "Michael."
I stopped and turned.
As she set one of the Diet Pepsis back on the table, she said; "Let's go to the couches on the far wall." She nodded towards a man in a sports jacket standing by the bar. "Do you see that man over there?"
"Yes."
"His job is to make sure that nothing overt happens in here. We can have fun, but we have to be discreet. The couches near the entrance are well lit and closely scrutinized." Chantel leaned over and whispered, "That's where we take the guys who are drunk."
Smiling, I said; "I understand. Let's go to the couches on the back wall."
"What a good idea." Chantel took my hand with her free hand and led me to our couch.
I sat down. Chantel set my drink down on the end table to my left and sat down on the couch next to me. Laying her hand on my thigh, she said; "Let's wait for the next song." And then slipping her hand inside my thigh, Chantel asked; "Michael, do you live in Tucson?"
Realizing that I was being vetted, I answered; "No, in fact I just got here today."
"Really? Are you here on business?"
"No, I guess you could say that I'm on a combination sightseeing and golf tour of the United States."
