AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story contains scenes of extramarital and unprotected sex, although if you've read this far you probably already know that. If you are offended by these activities, please pass over this story to something more suitable to your tastes. Reading the prior chapters is recommended. This story is not true, and the people are not real.
CHAPTER 7 - CONCLUSION
They spent the rest of the afternoon in silence, separately passing the time. At the hotel Liz worked on her timing, trying to make it look easy and natural to slip out of her clothes. Tom watched her as he pretended to watch television and napped, suspecting what she was thinking, and resenting her. At five he got into the shower and dressed, using the suite's guest bathroom as Liz prepared herself for her show. At six-thirty they headed for the club.
By seven they were seated at a rear table, watching the girls dance, and drinking club soda. Tom stewed silently, watching his wife get excited by her upcoming contest, fidgeting in her seat. He imagined her nipples getting hard under her costume, her freshly shaved pussy dripping wet, leaking, awaiting its chance to be seen by all the men who were filling the club. Would they all want to fuck her? Would she want them to? He was pretty sure the answer was yes.
Yesterday's confessions and the way she had reacted to his rough treatment of her had convinced him that she was not who she said she had become, not his willing wife who wanted only to please him and fulfill his every desire willingly. Oh, no, he reminded himself, she was so far past that. She had exposed herself as the woman he feared she was, a willing slut, not his slut but her own, eager for cocks and cum, and not just his. He remembered their conversation when she had answered the Organization's call to report for her weekend. She'd said she was made to want to go, and he found enough anger in him to share evenly between his despicable wife and the people who had made her this way. He bit his tongue and seethed.
At a quarter to eight Liz stood, and kissed him, and with a smile, headed backstage to check in. Just before eight the DJ announced the Amateur contest would begin shortly, and the men crowded the stage, squeezing between the ones who had taken tables stageside earlier. It was pretty full, still leaving a decent smattering throughout the club. All these men would see his wife naked, prancing around for their attention. Yesterday this had been his plan, and he'd been excited when she'd agreed enthusiastically to do it. Now the edge had come off his thrill, and his resentment and bitterness mixed with his sexual anticipation.
The first girl came onstage as the thumping music began, and she began dancing badly, walking awkwardly in platform shoes, missing the beat, and shaking her body in an exaggerated motion that did nothing for Tom, but excited the crowd. She untied her halter top too quickly, allowing her unclad boobs to flash from under the loose fabric. She grabbed at them under her shirt to the delight of the crowd, who began throwing money at her feet. She dropped the top before the song finished, and when the second one started she was slipping her shorts off, revealing a glittery thong. She crawled around the stage, shaking her ass unattractively, legs spread. She was all about the sex, not seduction, and Tom dismissed her. He found his attention drifting to the crowd of men, watching them watching her. He saw all different types, from business men to young college age kids, from well dressed to slobs, from groups to solo loners. Some looked like regulars, others like first-timers or occasional visitors. Many hooted and hollered obviously, others feigned indifference, while some pretended to be jaded and too cool for the room.
The girl on stage had dropped from his sight behind the standing audience, probably lying on the floor, exposing her pussy for the crowd. Her third song ended and she stood, waving, scooping up her money and clothes. He did notice she had a pretty nice young ass as she exited, and his cock stirred a little. He had always looked at other women, admiring their bodies, and at times had flirted and felt attraction to some. But he'd never admitted desire for someone else while he was married, Liz had always been enough for him; she'd been the one he loved and wanted. Lost in thought, he watched the second girl take the stage. She was more practiced, more elegant and seductive as she moved around the crowded edges of the stage. He felt his stirring grow. Was this was Liz felt? Was this what she had opened herself to, to allow yourself to be attracted to someone else, to want them?
The dancer was a slight brunette with small, plump tits and a lithe figure, and she moved with a sinewy grace for the crowd. Despite his anger he recognized his arousal, and wondered what she would be like in bed. Would she be responsive and giving? Cooperative and eager? Would she want loving caresses or hard, forceful fucking? For the first time since being married, he imagined sex with another woman, just sex, just for the fun, and not someone he was married to, his brain discounting the group events he'd had with Liz. The brunette bent over for the crowd and showed the thong between her bare ass cheeks, and the fantasies quickly turned from sensitive loving to debauched ass fucking, and his cock hardened, imagining driving himself into her tight ass, feeling her squirm and resist his anal penetration, crying out as he stretched her hole painfully, resisting, then accepting, then welcoming his cock.
Was this was Liz experienced? Was this how she saw it now, thinking only of her own satisfaction, imagining cocks penetrating all her holes? Did she see other people only in sexual terms for her own satisfaction, as instruments of her pleasure, not real people, with real feelings, but just tongues and hands and cocks for her to enjoy? His own arousal shamed him, realizing that his behavior these past weeks had opened doors he had wanted closed, should have kept closed. Part of love and marriage, he told himself, is devotion to your partner, and denying the parts of you that would accept others out of selfish gratification. He felt those feelings now, watching this young thing on the stage stroking her bare cunt for the howling crowd, and felt his bile rise with his cock. His wife had removed her barriers, and with them, her regard for their marriage agreement. She had opened doors that should have stayed shut tight; accepting her arousal at physical pleasure regardless of the source, allowed herself to enjoy strangers taking what should have been his alone. She had betrayed their marriage, discarded his love in her desire for sex; wild, outrageous sex, and then she had dragged him through that open door, against his will, to leave him sitting here, lusting after the naked girl on stage, waiting to see his once-loving wife expose herself for this crowd of horny men.
And worse, he thought, she had presented it as all for him, a gift to him, out of love for him. She had deceived and betrayed him and his love for her had soured and become a bitter gnawing pit in his stomach. He was torn by the conflict inside, his cock wanting this unknown naked girl on the stage even as he desired to have his old life back, to return to when his marriage was normal and his wife was not a wanton slut who begged for cock in her ass, and took his load on her face, smiling.
And even as he thought of her she was suddenly there, on stage, creeping tentatively around the curtain, playing the shy, unassuming housewife she had planned. The crowd whooped for her, seeing a slightly older woman, dressed as someone who might live down the street, or a married woman they worked with. She slipped out onto the stage, acting coy, and she was instantly transformed into the hot thirty-something at the office that young men fantasized about.
Because she WAS beautiful, and Tom's heart crashed through his protective defenses, and he longed for her as he always did, seeing her smiling face, her sparkling eyes, her familiar shapely body, now beginning to sway to the music, shedding her pretend reluctance to perform for these men. The illusion was perfect as she transformed herself before his eyes, changing from the Liz he had married to the Liz he had brought home from the Organization, a sexy, seductive and willing woman who accepted his desires and fulfilled them. Her hands caressed her clothed body, stroking herself, broadcasting her willingness and desires to a wild group of drunken men; in minutes giving them what she had once said was only for him. He stood to see better over the crowd as she worked her magic, shedding the blazer, and her hands slowly raised her skirt to expose the red panties she had bought at the adult shop. He saw now that they were crotchless, and the crowd cheered as her wet hairless pussy was flashed for a second. She twirled slowly, seducing the crowd, not dancing, and he longed for her, wanted her, and knew she was having the same effect on all of the men there. They all want to fuck her, he thought, to hear her beg for cock, they want to cum on her face, and fill her pussy and ass with their hot cum, and despite himself his cock hardened, knowing the pleasure she could give them, as she had given it to him.
He watched her face, and her eyes crinkled as she smiled at the crowd, and peeled off her tee shirt, exposing the red bra she'd bought, and the crowd cheered again. Tom felt himself moving through the crowd, inching forward, drawn by the seduction his wife was performing. He watched her making eye contact with the various men, then reached to cup her breasts, squeezing hard, and then suddenly pulled the cups off her bra; they were removable and detached easily, leaving the red straps framing her beautiful breasts, her nipples hard and swollen with arousal. The crowd cheered again as she pinched her nipples, pulling them hard, her pleasure showing on her face. Money was being thrown on stage like a snowstorm, he saw, she was giving a great show, and true to her word, as the first song ended she dropped her skirt, unwrapping it with practiced ease, and discarding it on the pile with the rest of her garments.
As the second song began she walked the edge, making eye contact with each man, licking her lips, winking, pulling her nipples or lightly stroking her finger between her wet pussy lips, showing swollen and wet from between the red strips of fabric. She had chosen well, he admired, the glaring red fabric looked great against her skin, and the strips of material perfectly framed her naked tits and pussy, leaving her completely exposed but better, an accented nudity that was more than naked, it was advertised. Halfway through the second song she centered herself on the stage, turned around, and bent down low, looking at the audience though straight, parted legs, and slipped a hand to her crotch, parting her pussy lips, showing her pink wetness to the cheers of the crowd. She made a show of sliding a single finger across her hole, slowly, then tapping her clit, before standing up and slipping the finger into her mouth as the crowd roared. Tom inched forward, squeezing himself into a group of younger men, well dressed and clean cut, who were enthusiastically cheering. As he inched closer, the second song ended, and Liz dropped to her knees and began crawling around the stage, her sweet ass cheeks moving up and down as she took a slow, seductive prowl around the crowd.
Tom inched forward, accidentally bumping one of the young men, who turned to glare at him.
