This story can be read independently of the first story, True Tale, but I hope you'll take the time to read the first one and therefore have a more complete history of the path we traveled. This is all as close to what happened as I can remember. Some people in the first response indicated that they couldn't understand my desire to hang onto her, why I loved her, etc. when she was clearly treating me as though I am not her ideal match. I should have perhaps spent more time extolling her virtues, but suffice it to say they are many. I have attached a picture of her to my biography to aid or truncate that tendency to repeatedly describe her appearance.
*
Following graduation, our lives, like many young married couples, failed to live up to the dreams we had used to sustain ourselves. We moved to the Tampa area certain that our days of waiting tables and other such jobs were behind us. What we discovered, however, like so many others, was that the Bachelor of Arts Degree that once upon a time almost ensured one of a job upon graduation had lost its power. True, there were jobs, but none that paid well to start. One firm offered me $14,000 year to start; I think that works out to something around 7 dollars an hour. And the bills began to pile up.
And of course the stresses of our daily life made sex a less and less frequent occurrence. Perhaps every other day, perhaps every three days, she relented and we would find ourselves entwined while she rubbed her clit and we both discussed our fantasies until we came. She came, as I have said before, by rubbing her clit while I moved slowly inside her. I read somewhere that only 20 percent of women can come by penetration alone. My wife, I think, will never join that lucky minority. By then I had learned to let her build slowly, sometimes in silence as her mind wandered I knew not where. That taboo fantasy that I related in the last story was still knocking around as part of our repertoire, but it seemed to be losing its power for her. I still came hard thinking about it, but it was not our exclusive fantasy. We talked about adding another girl to our bed and I think it was this rather than idea of another guy that was her go-to during that period in our lives.
These little moments of bliss took place inside the very nice rented house we could not afford as neither of us was bringing in an income sufficient to sustain us. Still, we ate out often. We drank with friends. We acted as if everything would somehow magically be ok when I got a decent job that would get us out of the fix we were in. The credit cards were soon maxed out. A mountain of resumes, but no offers and then came the day when we realized our power was going to be shut off the next day. Now in truth, we could have gone to our parents, either of us, and they'd have helped, but ironically we were too proud. It was this pride, coupled with a comment she'd made on our way south to Tampa, I think that resulted in what happened next.
As we passed a strip club, my wife seemed troubled as she glanced at the silhouetted shape of a nude girl on the sign. I noticed this and asked her what was wrong. She didn't answer. We'd never really had any discussions about strip clubs. Truthfully I didn't frequent them. I'd been maybe 2 or 3 times in my life. About 20 minutes later my wife out of the blue said, "I have just as good a body as those girls do." A strange comment, but one I couldn't disagree with.
"Yeah," I said. "You absolutely do, so what's bothering you?"
She didn't answer for a bit, but then said, "It sucks."
"I don't understand," I had no idea where she was going with this. I thought maybe she was going to start explaining how these places exploit women or something along those lines.
She looked out the window a moment as we drove along the Howard Franklin bridge. "It sucks," she said, "because if I weren't a good girl, I have the body that I could do it too."
I really didn't think much of it. After all, she was a "good girl" and there was zero chance of my wife, daughter of an upper middle class family, ever being naked in a crowd. "Yep," I agreed. "You are definitely hot enough. I have been in there and none of the girls in there are any hotter." This wasn't strictly true. There were a few that were, but even though young and stupid, I wasn't suicidal. She was satisfied with that answer and so I thought that was the end of that. I was wrong.
So there we were some months later, broke and discussing our options. I was sitting at dining room table as she puttered about the kitchen making coffee. Out of the blue offers the suggestion, "I could try dancing." I laughed, literally laughed. She was a funny girl even at the darkest of times. She laughed a little too and then continued, "I could just try it." I stopped laughing. She was staring at me intently now looking for my reaction.
"No," I said. "You couldn't." I wasn't angry. I was a little bit turned on, but we were Not going to go down that path. First and foremost, we were respectable people to the outside world and this thought more than anything else I think was in my mind as I shut down this whimsical diversion from a conversation wherein we were addressing real problems. It was summer in Florida. You need air conditioning in the summer in Florida. You need power for air. I think it was going to be another week before my next check. We had real problems and while it fun to joke around....really not the time for it.
But she wasn't joking. I looked at her then, regarding me so earnestly in her short little jean shorts and tied crop top and I thought to myself, my god she really does have the body for it. But no, I couldn't, wouldn't go down that road. What would our friends think if they found out? Our families? No, just no. But I could see she mistook my silence for consideration and I could see a little gleam in her eye of excitement as she thought I was seriously considering it. And that excitement was like rocket fuel to my libido. The horny little slut, I thought, she really wants to consider doing it. At that moment I didn't really have a firm handle on my feelings. I just knew I wanted to fuck her and I so I said, "let's talk about this in bed." So saying, I attempted to nudge her toward the bedroom door. I still had no intention of letting her do it, but I liked that look in her eye as she thought about it. Another fun fantasy was headed our way it seemed.
We stripped quickly and with almost no foreplay I was inside her. Very quickly she was rubbing small circles on her clit and we began to talk. "Are you serious? " I asked her. "You'd really get naked on stage?" She was quiet. I wanted us both to cum thinking about this so I was a bit graphic, asking "You want men to see your pussy? Strange men you've never even met?" As usual, when I found a topic of discussion that turned her on, her pussy answered for her. She was becoming very, very wet.
"I don't know about naked. Maybe topless?" she looked at me to see reaction, waiting for me to answer her. I didn't say anything, but was hard inside her, slowly moving toward my orgasm, but being careful not to cum before she did. Once again, she interpreted my silence as consent. She seemed to be seriously thinking about it for maybe thirty seconds as we fucked when she spoke again. "Topless," she concluded. "I'll dance topless." I was now very excited, the image of my wife dancing naked on stage was not a fantasy I'd harbored. I was more than a little shocked too. I simply never thought she'd even think about something like this. I thought, wow, what a hot new fantasy. And then I came up with my brilliant idea. I could get some real mileage out of this. I could, in fact, get a perk immediately if I played along. At the very least, I'd up the ante in our little fantasy fuck session we were having.
