Chapter 7
"What the fuck?" I exclaimed as I tapped on the video thumbnail to start it playing. My hands were shaking so severely that the screen was bouncing all over the place.
"What is it?" TJ asked as he leaned over my shoulder from the seat behind me. "Another video?"
"Yeah, looks like it," I mumbled.
It looked as if this video started where the previous one left off. You could see the group of people had just entered the room through the door marked private. Inside, there were two round bar tables, covered with bottles of champagne and tequila on ice, and a bunch of glasses. Maggie and Trina walked in with another woman who looked a little older than Maggie, with big fake cans, the MC, the trio of guys I called the Dudes, and three or four other men. Across the dimly lit room, I could make out a small platform along one wall, like a makeshift stage.
The MC was talking, but I missed the beginning.
"... so, let's have a drink to congratulate our two ladies who made it to Round 2." He poured out glasses of champagne for the ladies as one of the Dudes poured tequila shots. There was a lot of background talking and chatter, as well as loud dance music blaring from speakers. It was hard to hear what people were saying.
Maggie looked nervous as she took the proffered glass. Trina was standing on one side of her, with the buxom woman on the other. All three ladies appeared fully dressed as they raised their glasses.
"Ok, so you guys ready for Round 2?" shouted the MC to a chorus of cheers from the men. "This round is called the Hottest MILF contest. We rate the ladies on which one is the hottest mom we'd like to FUCK!!"
There were more cheers. I could see Trina trying to talk to Maggie, but either my wife was too drunk, or the room was too loud for my wife to hear what my daughter was saying.
"So we have an extra contestant, for you guys," the MC explained, "You guys don't mind if Trina competes against her mom, do you?"
Trina started waving her hands in protest. I could hear her say, "No fucking way!"
"Awww, guys, she's shy," the MC declared to the room. "Come on, guys, let's hear it for Trina! Trina! Trina!" The guys all joined in the chant, but Trina was having none of it. She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Well, then we'll just go ahead with the two MILFs," he declared when he realized Trina would not compete. "You ready, ladies?"
The buxom lady jumped up and down, shouting, "Hell yeah, I'm ready!" Everybody turned to Maggie. My heart was beating out of my chest.
I didn't know what was about to happen, but I felt like shouting, "Don't do it!"
Maggie seemed to make a decision. She grabbed a shot of tequila and threw it back, hunched over the table as a spasm shook its way through her body, then grabbed a second and threw it back, slamming the empty on the table and shouting, "I'm ready!"
Trina stepped in front of Maggie as she turned toward the impromptu stage. "Mom, let's go," she said. "You don't have to do this!"
Maggie hugged my daughter, and I thought I heard her say, "I know I don't have to, I want to!"
I swallowed the lump that had risen in my throat. Our car came to a stop, and everyone piled out. I was still sitting there, staring at the screen. Doug reached in and grabbed my phone.
"Give me that back, motherfucker!" I shouted as I lunged out of the car after him.
Doug just laughed and pocketed my phone. "We're going to have dinner now, Hank. You can pout on your phone later."
"Give me back my phone!" I demanded. I tried to grab it, but Doug just backstepped and turned, putting a beefy hand on my chest.
"Calm down, Hank," he said. "Whatever it is, it already happened. No need to ruin our time tonight. It won't change anything."
"Fuck yeah, it will!" I shouted.
"What?" Doug asked. "What will it change?"
"I'll know, dammit!"
Mark stepped between Doug and I and put a hand on my shoulder. "Bro, maybe you don't need to know. Just let Maggie have some fun. You are here to have your own fun, regardless of what she does. Just stop all the whining already. You sound like a pussy."
"What would you do if your wife cheated on you at a bachelorette party?" I asked Mark point-blank.
"I'd divorce the cheating whore, destroy her life and make sure she never gets a dime of my money," he answered with a straight face and total sincerity. "And, once I found out she is a cheating whore, I'd go to the strip club with my buddies and fuck as many other whores as I could!"
Jim Miller slapped me on the back, and asked, "Now can we eat? I'm fucking starving."
I followed the rest of the guys inside and sulked as we ordered drinks and appetizers. While we waited for the food to arrive, I probed Jim's response, which had surprised me.
"So, you would divorce Jill if she got carried away and had one wild night?" I asked Mark over a couple of whiskeys. I was feeling something similar but wanted to understand his viewpoint, so that I could make up my mind.
"Damn right, I would," he declared. "Without a doubt."
"Wow," exclaimed TJ. "That's pretty cold, bro. You've cheated on Jill so many times, you probably can't count them, but you would dump her for doing it once?"
"Absolutely," Mark began, attempting to explain his philosophy. "It's different between men and women. Men need to sow seeds. We're expected to cheat. It's normal. If a woman cheats, she's a slut and needs to be dumped."
Doug had been staying out of the discussion, but he suddenly spoke up. "That's a pretty major double standard, Mark."
"Yeah, so sue me. Look, I work my ass off every day for most of my life to make a good living for my wife. I deserve to have fun. My wife, on the other hand, doesn't do shit but spend my money. For her to cheat on me is a slap to the face."
"You aren't buying that load of bullshit, are you Hank?" Doug asked me. "You love Maggie, and she loves you. You shouldn't throw away all your years together over sex."
"If she loves him so much, Dan, then why is she fucking guys behind Hank's back?" fired Jim Miller.
"Oh, come on!" Doug blurted out. "Are you serious? Why the hell do you fuck around behind Tammy's back? You do it because you can! Because you want to! Because you know it doesn't affect your marriage at all. You're here; she's not. It isn't like it's taking anything away from her. You blow off some steam and go home to your loving wife as if you hadn't just had your cock in multiple strippers. So, what if she's doing the same thing while you're here. She'll still love you just as much. She'll still be the same person you married."
TJ started chuckling. Doug gave him a dirty look, then angrily snapped, "What?"
"If you were such an expert on marriages, why have you failed at it so much?" TJ asked, still laughing.
"Dude, if any of my wive's had this attitude," Doug replied with a big grin, "I would still be married. You gotta decide what's important. Do you love your wife? Do you like the life you have with her? Do you want to keep it? If you do, then don't worry about what she does when you're not around and don't go looking for her on fucking porn websites!"
He was looking at me when he said it. He had a point. Everybody had valid points. I felt like my head was going to explode. I buried my head in my hands.
"I don't know what to fucking do!" I snarled through my hands.
"Can you do anything about it now?" Jim Miller asked.
"No," I acknowledged.
"Right, so shut the fuck up and eat your goddammed dinner so we can get our motherfucking asses to the motherfucking strip club and fuck some motherfucking whores!" That was the most swearing I've ever heard come out of Jim Miller's mouth at one time.
Doug tossed me back my phone and said, "Yeah! What he said!"
I glanced at the phone. I was tempted to open the video again. I was tempted to call Maggie and confront her. Instead, I turned off the phone and stuck it in my pocket.
"Ok," I said. "Let's get this party started."
Chapter 8
Two hours later, I was shit faced, with a naked Amber straddling my crotch, grinding her pussy on my raging boner. My only saving grace was that my pants were still on. I had my hands on her tits, kneading them, flicking her nipples with my thumbs. She had her head back and her hands on my knees. I could feel the wetness seeping into my clothes.
"Take me to the backroom, Hank," she moaned. "I want you inside me."
I considered myself a normal man. I wasn't a saint by any means. I didn't want to cheat on Maggie. I had no intention of doing so. But, there I was, drunk, my emotions in a weird place, horny as hell, with a beautiful young girl, naked, grinding her cunt on my cock and begging me to fuck her.
A normal man can only take so much. I stood up and followed Amber to the private VIP rooms. At that point, I would have followed her anywhere. As soon as we stepped inside, she was all over me, ripping at my clothes and pushing me on my back onto the futon. I helped her get my pants off, and a few seconds later, she climbed on top of me, grabbed my cock, aimed the head at her slit, and slid her pussy down the length to the base.
That's when I realized I wasn't wearing a condom. My conscious mind struggled to make its way to the surface, through the fog of alcohol and lust.
"Wait," I mumbled.
She began bouncing hard on my cock. Her pussy was hot and wet and felt so fucking good.
"Wait!" I said louder and grabbed her hips to make her stop.
"What?" she asked, the frustration evident on her face.
"Condom," was all I could say.
"Fuck, it's ok," she said, then started kissing me, forcing her hips to move. I groaned. But, now that little voice in my head was shouting at me. The one that says, "Hank! You're an idiot! What the fuck are you doing?"
I kissed her back, thrusting up into her willing little pussy, but the voice grew louder, "Hank! Is that what you want Maggie to be doing?"
I felt it happening.
In spite of Amber's pussy trying to milk my cock and her savagely amazing good looks, I could feel my erection starting to fail. She sensed it too and tried to fuck me harder, to get it to rise to the occasion.
"I can't," I said softly as my cock became flaccid and slipped out of her delightful pussy.
She looked into my eyes with a hint of anger, but it quickly faded. "Because of your wife?" she asked.
I nodded.
Amber let out a long sigh. "She's a lucky woman."
"I don't think so," I said. "A lucky woman wouldn't have a husband who fucks strippers." As soon as I said it, I regretted it. "Sorry, didn't mean anything by that."
