These Date Night stories are 100% true to the personal experiences of me and my wife. I have not embellished or fabricated any of the actions. That being so, some of them may not be as wild as other stories on the site, but you can be supremely confident that every act, thought, and feeling are absolutely real.
This is the third entry in the series, and a direct follow up to "Date Night: A Stripper Named Gemma". The first entry, "Date Night: Dinner for Two", is not part of this story, but does have the most complete description of my bride and how I feel about her.
Gemma Part Two:
My stunning redheaded wife was in a state of shock. Apparently, her seemingly obvious attraction to other women is not something she had admitted to herself. I was very surprised this was a revelation. When we were younger, she had crushes on girls. Later on, not only would she kiss other women, but she would call me, when she had a night out, to complain if none of her friends wanted to make-out. Also, several years ago, she once got so handsy with a friend that she was upset, because she saw it as cheating on me.
In contrast to her surprise, I had always loved the way she hungrily eyed other women, and I loved being her outlet when she got turned on by them. After years and years of seeing her want, but not get, I was thrilled to see her fulfill some of those desires with Gemma. She, however, was stunned by the way she reacted to the luscious brunette.
It took several days before she would really even discuss it. She talked about it more openly with her friends than with me, which stung a little, but I understood the need for objective input. She knew there would be no disparaging remarks coming from me. The only such conversation I was privy to actually ended with her friend being jealous of her bisexual experience.
Slowly she seemed to come to grips with the idea that this should not have surprised her, and this was the way she had always felt.
A few months later the opportunity arose to return to the club, and she agreed to go. However, as the day approached, she had gotten hesitant and said she just wanted to watch and not get any dances. I sent her a text:
"I get it if you don't want to go in the 30 minute rooms, because that got so intense, but the attraction to going, for me, is to see you being sexy. So, would single song dances and dollar dances be okay?"
After discussing it further she said that she would do some dollar dances, and maybe the semi-private, single song lap dances. As that is all I expected on the previous outing, that was more than fine by me, and off we went.
This time she dressed in a pair of distressed jeans and a shoulderless Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt. She looked hot as hell, but I wondered if she had strategically chosen an outfit less accessible than the dress she wore last time. Despite the events of our previous trip, I had no expectations beyond her getting turned on from contact with attractive women. Surely that is the most normal of expectations for a strip club outing. Her nervousness alone hinted at her reluctant excitement.
After we arrived, things started off very relaxed. There were different girls there than last time, and we watched them take the stage and walk among the crowd while we enjoyed our first few rounds. We were sitting much closer to the stage than the previous trip and were getting a good view. Then I spotted her over my wife's shoulder, sitting a couple tables away.
Gemma was dressed very erotically that night. Her underwear consisted of sparse black straps and she had a black lace choker around her neck. My wife used to wear those chokers when we were young, and they've always turned me on since then. Aside from her well-tanned skin, everything on her was black; her outfit, her choker, her hair, and those same thick black "librarian style" glasses.
I tapped my wife's arm and pointed in Gemma's direction. She quickly turned back after seeing who I was pointing at, like she didn't want to get caught looking. Her body was tense, and it looked like her mind was reeling a bit, so I thought it best to wait a while before calling Gemma over. Little did I know that would be our last opportunity for hours.
There was no shortage of attractive women that night, but Gemma was, once again, easily the hottest dancer. The crowd was a bit denser than last time and she rarely made it very far into the room before getting chosen for a dance, and never made it to the stage. That last part was the real shame because my wife had agreed to go up for a dance if Gemma was on stage.
So, we sat, and we drank. It is a great place to just sit and get drunk. The ambiance is fun, the entertainment is constant, and the drinks are affordable. However, it was all tinted with frustration. We both wanted that dance. I had again turned to the people working there to help get Gemma to us, but even they couldn't get a hold of her, between her breaks and all the other customers vying for her attention. Then the worst case scenario, all the drinking and sitting just started making us sleepy.
I told my wife we needed to go up for some dollar dances just to wake us up, and she agreed almost before I finished my sentence. Her unexpected eagerness was sexy and exciting. We went up to the front for a few girls and everything was different than the time before. She was hungry for their bodies. She eagerly ran her hands over them and grabbed at their boobs and hips. It occurred to me that I wasn't sure if I had ever seen my wife sexually frustrated before. I am always there in an instant if she is turned on, but now she had waited for hours hoping to touch and be touched. These girls may not have been the target of her arousal, but she was seeking her satisfaction in their bodies.
A dancer, whom I believe was named Charlotte, took the stage. She was pretty. She had nice curly hair and a cute face, but her best feature was her boobs. She really had a knockout rack. Since we were sat so close to the stage, and she had seen us go up for a couple dances, she pushed out two chairs from "pervert row" and called us over. Never ones to be rude, we obliged.
Charlotte danced on me first, which was different than all of the other dancers. My wife seemed impatient for her turn. I liked that. When her turn did come, she was even more handsy than before, but it was when Charlotte pulled my wife's head between her fantastic breasts that she became perceptibly excited to the dancer. Charlotte said,
"I want to give you guys a lap dance. Would that be okay?"
Without a second's hesitation, my wife said, "Yes," to which Charlotte confirmed, "You promise?" My wife again simply said, "Yes."
I don't know if she agreed to the dance because she had gotten horny or to make me happy or because she had given up on Gemma or some combination of all of them, but after a short discussion, we settled on a single song lap dance in the semi-private area. This would cost us $40 to do as a couple. After Charlotte's set we walked back together and paid the man at the door two twenties.
We were sat down in what looked like one side of a restaurant booth with no table. As we waited for a new song to start with the already topless Charlotte, she pointed out that this was costing us $40 and, for a little more than double that, we can get 30 minutes in a private room. My wife looked at me and asked, "Is that what you want to do?" She seemed anxious, but also eager. I don't know if she was feeling exposed in the more open space or if she was just craving the feminine contact, but she seemed like she wanted a "yes".
I answered, "Well, it's the same cost as two and a half songs out here, and were already $40 in..."
She interjected into my pause with, "Yeah, we'll do that", and Charlotte took 3 more twenties back to the man at the door and then led us into the Ruby Room. It was very similar to the room we were in with Gemma except the lighting was a dark red. She began dancing on us both, alternating back and forth, and sometimes lying across us both.
She was sexy, no doubt, and she moved her body well, but it was lacking the sensuality and intensity of our previous back room experience. Even though Charlotte was physically as close as you can get to a person, mentally, she was punching a clock. Gemma was turned on by my wife early in the proceedings and took many liberties with her body. I could see that my wife was not getting enough satisfaction from this routine dance, and I motioned for Charlotte to stay on her so she could get as much as possible from our time. Charlotte kept leaning in with her mouth like she was going to put it on my wife's neck, ears, or exposed shoulders, but all she delivered was teasing hot breath.
Women have always turned my wife on like I never could, and I am basically incapable of frustrating her, because I am addicted to her pleasure. So, as I said earlier, I'd never seen her act out of sexual frustration, but here she was, looking but not having, wanting but not getting. She needed more from the woman straddling her lap, so she took it. I was shocked to see my wife pull her own shirt up and bra down, effectively exposing her torso from the collar bone down. Charlotte smiled as she stared at my wife's incredible tits and perfectly pink nipples standing at attention.
Charlotte cautiously leaned down and gently rubbed her own breasts against my wife's. The contact didn't quell the fire in my wife, it fanned the flames. I always thought that rubbing boobs together was just some silly porn thing that didn't really deliver much sensation, but anytime Charlotte's movements brought their chests together it cranked up the intensity of my wife's arousal.
She was taking what she wanted from Charlotte. Her hands were everywhere, not just rubbing, but squeezing and kneading Charlotte's ass and breasts and thighs and anywhere else she wanted. Although she was clearly enjoying the breast to breast contact, I thought I knew what my wife really wanted when she first lifted her shirt. So, I started sucking on her tender nipples, while she shamelessly felt up the dancer.
