We were going home from a date that night. We had dropped the kids off at Brianâs parents for the night, so I was looking forward to a nice relaxing night when we got home. I thought that without the kids, we could go home, watch some TV, go to bed and sleep in late.
We went to dinner and a movie and were on our way home when he asked me if I wanted to do anything else. He seemed let down when I told him I just wanted to go home and relax. He got awfully quiet, like he was pissed. He had suggested dancing or a walk, but both of those just sounded to energetic for me. I had a long week at work and was tired, I just wanted to go home and relax.
Then it hit me! There it was on the other side of the street, âExotic Dancing,â a sign for one of the local topless dance clubs. He had been trying to get me in there ever since I told him that I went into one of those places once on a dare in college. âPull over there,â I told him.
âWhat?â
âYou heard me. Pull over there before I change my mind.â The look on his face went from one of disappointment, to one of wonder as he pulled the car into the parking lot.
I was a little nervous when we first entered the club. First, I was looking around the club, hoping that I wouldnât find anyone I knew. Then I was looking at the menâs faces, expecting to see a bunch of perverts undressing me with their eyes, or hands coming out to paw at me as I walked by, or worse yet, their dicks in hand stroking away. I found none of that. The last time I was at one of these places, I was with a group of friends and we were pretty ripped. We sat at a table close to the door and I did my best to keep my eyes on my friends. I didnât see much of the place then, so I didnât have much of an idea of what to expect now. I guess that my biggest fear was that these guys would think that I was a slut or something, but it looked like as long as I had clothes on, they werenât going to pay me any attention.
I was so busy looking around the place, trying to figure out what everyone was thinking of me that before I knew it, my husband was seating us at the one of the dance floors. This meant that we were going to be closer than I really wanted to be, and would actually have to look at the girls. I would have said something, but the club was crowded, and I didnât see any tables open.
The waitress brought our drinks over to us, and my husband left the change on the rail. I donât know when he had ordered the drinks, only that they had appeared. The girl up on the stage was crawling around, wiggling her butt in the faces of the men sitting around the stage. She was naked except for a small g-string. Sometimes, she would roll on her back with her feet spread in the air, giving them a view of her barely covered labia. The song ended and she started to climb off of the stage and onto the laps of the waiting men, giving them a lap dance, finishing each one by rubbing her breasts in their face. It appeared to me like she would pick these men out at random, but my husband tells me that the dancers spend the first song determining who will give them the most money.
Next thing I knew, she was climbing down onto my husbands lap. It was so funny watching the expressions on his face. It was like he didnât know whether to run and hide or to sit there and enjoy the show. I sat there and laughed through his lap dance, then it was my turn. She climbed off of his lap and onto mine. I wanted to tell her that I wasnât into that kind of thing, but I was still busy laughing at my husbandâs predicament. I let her do her little thing, but when she went to squeeze my face between her boobs, I backed off, laughing even more. Then she was off of my lap, climbing onto the next guyâs lap. I wasnât paying attention, but my husband told me that the crowd was hooting it up until I backed away from her. Apparently they loved it.
What is this thing that men have about women getting it on with each other?
I politely refused the lap dances offered to me by the next couple of dancers, but the third girl almost begged to give me a lap dance. She came straight out onto the dance stage and over to me. She was still dressed as she moved our drinks out of her way, trying to come down to my chair. I told her no, and she hesitated. The men around us started jeering me on, and she put her hands together, lipping âplease,â in prayer fashion, like she was begging. I gave in to the cheering of the crowd and let her down.
She started out with a normal lap dance routine, but then her dance changed from the norm. She went down on her knees with her face inches from my crotch. Next she started coming up, stopping when she was in front of my belt line. Looking up at me with begging eyes, she reached up and slowly started to untuck my shirt. I wanted to tell her no, but I gave in to the cheering of the crowd. The shirt I was wearing that night buttoned up the front, and she pulled it out enough to get at the lowest buttons. Dropping her look from me she started unbuttoning my shirt, pretending to kiss my belly as she undid each button. She got up as far as my bra and I called it off, bringing my hands up, and pulling my shirt closed. She continued up, pretending to kiss each one of my breasts through my clothes. Next she came up to my neck, I could feel the warmth of her breath on the side of my face. Then she moved by my ear and purred, âthank you,â into it.
The song ended and she climbed onto Brianâs lap. I could hear the crowd going wild over the little show she just put on. She took her top off, threw it on stage and started grinding her hips into my husbandâs lap. When she was done with my husbands lap dance, she climbed back up on stage and started looking for her next customer. I looked around, and the guys were all hooting when I would look their way. I started to button my shirt back up and was going to ask my husband why he thought men liked the two women thing so much when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I turned and the guy tapping me on the shoulder offered me money if I show him my tits. Now, this was new territory for me, I had been naked on the lake before, and flashed my tits at a Mardi Gras festival, but those were situations where only a couple of people would be able to see me. Here everybody would be able to see me. I told the guy that I wasnât a dancer, so he offered me more money. I told him no and he asked me to just open up my shirt and flash him my bra.
I turned and told Brian what he wanted, hoping that he would help me back out. Instead, he told me if I wanted to, to go ahead and do it. I turned to the guy to tell him no when something got into me. Instead of saying no, I reached up and undid the next button, and then the next. I pulled my shirt open and flashed him my bra. He handed me his money and started to walk away.
I was surprised when I started to pull my shirt shut and button it back up when I heard the table behind us start chanting, âmore, more, moreâŠâ My build is similar to Anna Nicole Smith, whom I always thought was fat. I could never figure out what men saw in her. I always considered myself fat, but my husband tells me that is a bunch of nonsense, that I am round in all the right places. After that night, I am starting to believe him.
Hearing the guys behind us chanting like that was a real ego booster for me, I couldnât believe that anyone would want to see my breasts. So before I got the first button refastened, I turned around and flashed them my bra. They cheered at this, and I pulled my shirt shut. I had turned back to the stage, getting ready to sit back down when they started a new chant, âtits, tits, titsâŠâ I turned around, and a couple of them held up money towards me.
I leaned down to my husband to ask him what he thought. I got the same reply from him as before, so getting up my nerves, I turned back to them, opened up my shirt, and lifted my bra up, shaking my breasts back and forth. One of them got up and handed me a wad of ones. I turned to sit back down and this time the guys sitting around the stage were giving me various signals that they wanted me to show them my tits as well. One last time, before I buttoned my shirt up, I lifted my bra and turned so that most of the guys sitting at the stage could see.
When the dancer that started all of this was done, she went over to one of the guys sitting across from us, took his hand and led him to an area in the back of the club. It was raised a couple of feet off the floor and enclosed with walls that only went up about three feet. . These walls were tall enough that I could only see from about mid waist up. She sat him in a chair and started to give him a lap dance that lasted about the entire length of the song.
I asked my husband about this and he told me that was the private dance area. I asked him what those consisted of and he told me that he never had one, so he couldnât tell me. I kept watching and I could see the dancer remove her top while dancing and I saw her arms and shoulders move like she took off the skirt and maybe the g-string. I couldnât see anything below the chest, so I was just guessing. I asked Brian if he thought that she was naked and he couldnât tell me. I asked if he thought that they might be fucking and he told me no, pointing out the security camera over looking the area.