My Second Cheat

It was a Monday afternoon like any other, and I sat on the couch, cradling a glass of wine to unwind from the long day of housework. We do not work during weekends. Monday is the day of cleaning. Just as I was going to press the TV remote control, in burst Caitlin, my closest friend, without even knocking on the door. Her cheeks were rather red, as if she had run a marathon. "Andrea," she panted, "you're not going to believe what happened Saturday night."

Her eyes sparkled with the sort of mischief that can only be born from a secret too juicy to keep to oneself. I sat up, setting my glass down with a soft clink. "What's up, Cate?" I asked, curiosity piqued. As I poured her a glass. She took it gratefully, gulping down a mouthful before speaking.

"I was at an all male strip show," Caitlin began, her voice a mix of excitement and apprehension. "You know, the kind of thing you do for a hen's night, but I went with a few of my work friends for shits and giggles." She took a deep breath, her eyes flicking around the room as if searching for a ghost of her husband Ethan's disapproval. "But it was so much more than that."

I leaned in closer, my heart racing with anticipation. Caitlin's stories could be so riveting, and I knew this one was going to be a doozy. She took another sip of her wine, her hand shaking slightly. "One of the dancers, Derick, he had this. this. thick penis," she whispered, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. "He was so sexy, and when he looked at me, I just knew."

Her words painted a picture in my mind: strobe lights, the thumping bass, and Derick, a sculpted Adonis with a wicked smile, making his way through the sea of eager women. "He pulled me on stage," she went on, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And before I knew it, he was all over me."

I could almost envision it as Caitlin described the scene: her voluptuous breasts heaving while Derick's hands roamed all over her, teasing and tantalizing every inch of her. "He whispered the filthiest things into my ear," she said, her eyes glassy with lust. "It was like he knew exactly what I wanted to hear."

Her voice had turned to a whisper; the closeness of her confession had cast a marked tension in the air. "And then.he slipped his fingers into my panties, and I just.I just couldn't help it. I was so wet." She paused, her fingers swirly-twirling the wine in her glass as if to capture that moment in its crimson depth. "He started playing with me, right there in front of everybody."

It was almost beyond conception that Caitlin, always poised and proper, would lose herself to some stranger's touch on a public stage. Yet, the way she spoke-modest and exalted at once-told me it was true. "What did it feel like?" I breathed, my own pulse quickening as I imagined the scene.

Her eyes went distant, lost in the memory. "It was electric," she murmured. "I'd never been touched like that before. So rough, so demanding, yet it was as if he knew my body better than I did." She took another sip of her wine, the hand visibly shaking. "And when he slipped his thumb into me." Her voice trailed off, leaving the room thick with unspoken passion.

For a while, we said nothing, just the hum of the refrigerator somewhere in the distance and our hearts racing. She moved a step closer to me, and her voice was no more than a whisper. "After the show, I couldn't get him out of my head. All I could do was replay it, every touch, every word. It was like I was famished for something I didn't even know existed."

It was a bombshell of a confession, and I felt its fire spread inside me. "Caitlin," I began, trying to steady my voice, "are you saying what I think you're saying?" She nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. "After some more shows he showed up from nowhere", she took a deep breath, "I ended kissing him, and before I knew it his hand were under my dress again, his thick fingers playing with my pussy right next tot the stage."

My mind swirled along with the strobe-lit image of Caitlin, curly blonde hair a halo as her body arched in ecstasy beneath Derick's hands. "It's not like me, Andrea," she said, her voice full of amazement, laced with an edge of guilt. "But it just.happened. And it was amazing."

Her admission hung in the air between us, a silent question. Was she seeking judgment or validation? I took another sip of my wine and tried to filter the riotous mess of feelings that swirled within me: jealousy, curiosity, and arousal-I didn't know exactly which one, but it was something, and I knew I would have to tread with caution. "It sounds intense," I finally said; my voice was a little too high. "But we're all entitled to our own fun, right? Did you. enjoy it? Tell me more!"

Caitlin leaned back into the couch, a small smile playing on her lips. "God, yes," she murmured, closing her eyes briefly. "It was like nothing I've ever experienced before. And the best part was, he knew it. He could feel it." She opened her eyes, her gaze locking onto mine. "Andrea, I couldn't get enough of it. The way he makes me feel, the way he looks at me.it's intoxicating."

It was one of those weird mixes of emotions: a part of me was happy for my friend, while this other voice was just panging with something almost like jealousy. I quickly swished it aside, though, curious to hear more. "What happened next?" I asked, my voice coming out a little too eager.

"He laid me down on the stage, right there for everyone to see," Caitlin said, her voice lowering as she recounted the steamy details of her tryst with Derick. "His thumb was still inside me, and he was whispering these incredibly dirty things. I could feel every eye in the room on us, and it just.it just made it better." She paused, taking a deep breath. "I was so turned on, so lost in the moment that I didn't even care who saw. It was like I was in a different world, one where only pleasure existed."

I leaned in closer, my heart racing as the scene unfolded before my mind's eye: Caitlin's body, normally so reserved and elegant, had become a canvas of passion, lying with her legs spread open for this stranger to know. The image was so alive, so erotic, that I could feel the shiver run down my spine. "And then?" I prompted, my voice a mere breath.

Her eyes snapped open, a wild look in them. "He slid his fingers out of me, so slow," she said, her voice thick with lust. "And then, without a word, he unbuckled his pants. He was so.so thick, Andrea. Thicker than Ethan. He took my hand and placed it on him, guiding me to stroke him, while kissing me hard, biting my bottom lip." She paused, her hand clutching the edge of the couch cushion. "I could feel him growing, getting harder with every touch. "He told me to take off my panties," she continued, her cheeks now scarlet. "So I did. And then he.he dived with his head between my legs."

The room felt hot, the air thick with the scent of Caitlin's arousal and the heady aroma of our wine. I could almost hear the club's music echo through her description, the bass bumping in my chest as she described Derick's tongue darting over her clit, hips bucking against his face. "It was like nothing I've ever felt before," she said, shaking. "He knew just how to touch me, lick me. It was like he was made for me. I begged him to stop teasing and just fuck me."

And her words sent tingling electric streams along my spine; I felt the clutch of reflex on my thighs as passion stirred deep and primal in me like a sleeping giant. "And did he?" I choked above a whisper.

"Yes," Caitlin breathed, her eyes glassy with the memory. "He flipped my dress up, and there I was, naked before everyone, his cock inside me, filling me up all a way Ethan never has." She paused, her face contorting in a mixture of guilt and pleasure. "It was like he owned me, like I was put on this earth just for him to use."

I just could not believe my ears. My friend had just described the most passion-filled encounter with a stranger that would make any erotic novelist jealous. But as she continued to describe, in detail, what happened, the sense of shock mixed with arousal started to stir within me. "What about Ethan?" I ventured, trying not to sound judgmental. "Does he know?

Caitlin's smile faltered, and she took a long pull on her wine. "No," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know how to tell him. It just. happened. I didn't plan for it, but once it started, I couldn't stop." She paused, looking at me with a mix of hope and fear. "Do you think I'm a terrible person?"

I took a moment to consider her question-the room spinning with the implications of her confession. "No," I said finally, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "You're not terrible. You're just.human." It was a truth we both knew, one that didn't always play nice with societal norms or the vows we'd pledged to our husbands. But in that moment, it was the only truth that mattered.

Caitlin's shoulders eased a fraction, and she took another deep breath. "Thank you," she murmured. "I just.I don't know what came over me. I've never felt like that before."

I nodded, my mind racing with questions and emotions. "It's okay," I assured her. "But what happens now?"

Caitlin swirled the wine in her glass, watching the liquid dance in the light. "I don't know," she admitted, both dread and anticipation rounding her voice. "A part of me wants to tell Ethan, to just confess. What if it destroys everything?" The sigh that escaped her was a little shaky as her gaze strayed to the wedding ring on her finger. "I scored two VIP tickets to Friday night's show. Do you.want to go with me?

My heart stopped. Was she asking me to join her on this illicit adventure? The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating. "To the strip club?" I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady. "You want me to go with you?"

Caitlin nodded, her eyes pleading. "I don't know if I can do it again without someone I trust," she said. "Someone who won't judge me. And, well, I know you've been feeling a bit.unfulfilled with Martin lately." It was true. Martin and I had grown complacent in our marriage, our sex life as predictable as the tides. The thought of a night of raw, unbridled passion was more tempting than I cared to admit.

I took a deep breath, the weight of her words settling on my chest. "Okay," I said finally, the word slipping out before I could reconsider. "I'll go. I have to think of an excuse to go out on Friday, but I'll be there."

Caitlin's face lit up with relief and excitement. "Thank you, thank you so much," she said, squeezing my hand tightly. "It'll be fun, I promise."

As the week would drag along, my thoughts at random moments would turn to their Friday meeting. The most mundane of marital and household chores now took on a new edge as my mind basked in the dark, pulsating lights of the strip club: the feel of a stranger's hands upon my body. I was no longer fantasizing about girls, but guys-strippers-harding up for sex. This was a dangerous path to tread, but one which seemed irresistible.

I had to devise a way of leaving the house on Friday night. I told him that I was going to go see a strip show with Caitlin, figuring it was as close to the truth as I could get without lying. Martin, bless his oblivious heart, didn't bat an eye. He was too involved with the TV to question my sudden interest in such an event. The day drew nearer and I just got excited. How was I going to handle that sort of temptation Caitlin had spoken about? Would I be in a place to resist some stripper's charms?

Caitlin picked me up in the afternoon that day of the show, and we could sense the excitement off each other. She was wearing a fitting red dress that stuck to her curves like a second skin; I could tell the design of her black lacy underwear through the fabric. "Ready for a wild night?" I wore tight-fitting jeans and a black blouse. "No, it's not going to work," she said with a wink and handed me a bag with clothes that she had bought for me, "You need to look the part." I took the bag and went to the bathroom to change into the tiny black dress and matching thong with a see through white blouse that she had brought for me. "No bra allowed." she told me.

I got dressed, putting on some makeup to make my eyes pop and my lips look fuller. Caitlin's eyes lit up with approval. "Perfect," she said, handing me a pair of black stilettos that would make any woman feel like a goddess. "Now you are ready to conquer the world. or at least the strip club."

It was still early in the afternoon, yet the sun shone bright with its golden rays on this quiet suburban street, deceiving the dark and sultry evening that lay ahead. Stilettos fell onto the steps of my feet as each step I took was mixed with trepidation and excitement. We ordered an Uber and climbed inside; the leather seats cool against our bare legs.

"Are we not a bit to early?" I asked and glanced at the time on the Uber's dashboard; it read 4:30 PM. Caitlin simply smiled at me. "Trust me, the early bird gets the worm," she said wittily. "And sometimes, the worm is a really hot guy with a certain.asset." She winked. I burst out laughing, my nervousness laced with excitement.

We made it to the club, and I had never seen anything quite like it. The building itself was unremarkable from the outside, but once inside, electric was in the air: thick with cologne and desire, soft music playing in the background. The walls were painted deep, sensual red, and the lights were dim enough to not show too many imperfections but bright enough to let us ogle at glistening abs and bulging muscles of the waiters. They were only attired with black bowties and speedo's, which left very little to our imagination as they showed their cocks to us while serving drinks.

We swished our way through to the VIP section, where the ropes parted for us like the Red Sea. The booths were plush and intimate, each a cozy little nook right next to the stage. Caitlin passed over our tickets to the bouncer, who nodded as he dwelled a little too long on her cleavage before letting us through. As we sat down, I couldn't help but feel a sense of thrill and unease. This was a world far removed from the quiet suburban life I knew, and I was about to dive headfirst into its decadent embrace. Catlin ordered a bottle of red whine and food. She said if I knew what was good for me, this was only going to be my last meal of the day.

Since it was still early in the club and thus not crowded, the energy had begun to build since some videos from previous shows flashing on screens on TV while making guesses at what awaited. The wine began heating up my tummies with the rising infectious excitement of Caitlin while we sipped our drinks. Her eyes shone as brightly as the flashy necklace she had on, and she couldn't stop fidgeting. "Remember, no touching of the dancers unless they make the first move," she told me with a grin. "Also, they will not touch you unless you indicate that you're okay with it." She was like a tour guide in the land of the forbidden. She also added. "You have to undress yourself, such as your panties." Why? "I asked her." She replied, "It's part of the consent you're giving them, you know, that you're cool with it. But it's also hotter that way."

I asked her about the past shows playing on the TV screens: "Is that normal to record us?" She nodded. "Part of the thrill. But don't worry, you won't end up on their socials without your consent." We both chuckled nervously, sipping our wine, and I couldn't help but feel a bit exposed already.

We finished dinner and the wine. Caitlin ordered another bottle. The club was filling up now, only women. The music grew louder, the lights dimmer, and the air thick with anticipation. "Here we go," Caitlin said, murmuring under her breath, her eyes set on the stage as the first dancer appeared; the crowd went wild with cheers and whistles.

He stepped onto the stage, a tall, muscular man, with chiseled abs and a cocky grin. His body shined under the strobe lights; the thumping bass of the music seemed to pulse with the racing of my heart. He started to dance, moving his body in fluid, sensual movements, my eyes glued on him as he began stripping away layer upon layer of his clothes. Caitlin leaned over, her breath hot against my ear. "You see that one?" she shouted over the din. "I heard he's got a real talent."

When he was done he left the stage. "Pretty tamed for a start, huh?" I was a bit disappointed but Caitlin assured me that it was just the opening acts. The shows were 30 minutes apart. So we had some time to kill. We talked about random things. The air was thick with the scent of desire and the promise of what was to come. The place was packed as the shows went on, the music grew louder, and the dancers more daring.

The dancers move into the crowd, mingling with the audience as oily muscles shine in strobe lights. I was not able to look away from this incredible sight. In particular, one of the dancers caught my eyes; his confidence was nothing short of hypnotic, the way his hips moved. Tall, with dark hair and piercing eyes which seemed to bore into my skin. He did an odd-job man routine. His cock was already semi-hard as he danced, and I couldn't help but wonder if he knew the effect he had on the women around him.

It was electric around us, the excitement building like a storm about to break. The dancers grew more daring, their moves more explicit as the night went on. This sea of women feeding off one another-the desire itself had my inhibitions melting like grains of sand falling through the gaps of your fingers. Music-cursedly lilting-like the call of the sirens to a lecherous delight that could barely wait at the very gates of hell, fondling, kissing-the surrounding activities hard not to fall for in their innocence.

Caitlin scanned the room; her eyes showed some disappointment. "Derick isn't here tonight," she murmured, a hint of sadness in her voice. But the show must go on. The dancers grew more and more daring, their oiled bodies moving in ways that seemed to defy gravity. Each one had a certain charm, a magnetic pull that drew me in.

A stripper doing a fireman act took Caitlin, who didn't need much to go on stage and swayed up, her hips swaying to the beat of the music and became the center of attention. He picked her up and started to spin her around, hands roaming over her body with that familiarity that squirmed me in my chair. He pulled her to a chair center stage-the crowd of women surrounding us cheered, egging her on. He laid her back and gave her a lap dance that was so heated I could feel the steam where I sat. His cock hardened and pressed against her thigh, and Caitlin's eyes were closed. She let her arms go loose at her sides, allowing him to take the lead. He poured oil all over his chest and leaned into Caitlyn's ear before leaning back, his cock bobbing in the air. She reached out and started rubbing the oil all over his body. The crowd went wild.

I watched, my heart hammering in my chest, as her hands trailed up his body, the oil making him skin shine like a jewel in the spotlight. His abs rippled as he danced, and she matched his moves with surprising confidence. It was clear she'd been here before, had been in this very spot, and the memory of her story from earlier in the week made my cheeks flush.

He gestured to his soft cock. Caitlin looked at me, eyes wide with excitement and a bit of fear. She took a deep breath and reached out, her hand wrapping around his length. She started stroking him, tentatively at first, but bolder with every beat of the music. The crowd was rabid, their screams and catcalls filling the air as the dancer's cock grew in her hand. She rubbed the into his hairless balls, then back up his shaft the crowd going absolutely wild. He again whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. She nodded and then he led her of stage. She sat down beside me. "Dam, that was hot," she said, her voice still trembling with excitement. "He said he would be back for my surprise." She was giggling like a schoolgirl and took a big gulp of wine.