The Complete BBW Hotwife

by Sadie Somerton

  “You see the look on her face?” asked Selena. “It’s like it’s taking all her concentration to remember what the next move’s going to be.”

  “And him,” said Martin. “It’s like watching a bodybuilder go through the poses.”

  “What kind of bodybuilders do you know?”

  They laughed, and drank more of their beer. When Selena shifted her arm in Martin’s lap again, he’d gone soft. How strange to be a couple of rows of seats away from two hot naked people having sex and not be turned on! There was something clinical about it all.

  “It’s fucking by numbers, isn’t it?” said Selena.

  The girl was on all fours now and the guy was taking her from behind. Martin was right: for the guy it was all about the shapes he made with his body, the poses.

  “And not even a happy ending,” said Martin, a short time later as the act drew to a close. The performers took a bow and then walked off chatting, the guy still erect. “These guys must get through a whole load of Viagra.”

  A woman with long golden hair came on next, wearing just a thigh-length black fur coat and killer heels. There was something different about her, a spark in the eye and a spring to the step as she started to dance. Close to Martin’s ear, Selena said, “Now this is more like it.” Under her forearm she felt an immediate response, a filling out, a twitch.

  They watched as the woman danced around the bed, her movements sinuous and her coat occasionally flashing open to reveal a long, slender body, black lingerie, long legs. Dropping to lie on the bed, she started to writhe, hands plunged into that coat, pressing between her legs. When she rose again, she gave a shrug of the shoulders and somehow the coat stayed behind.

  Now, only in lingerie and heels, she stepped down from the stage and started to dance among the audience, teasing them by drawing close, twisting, and turning away again.

  The shoes went first, kicked clear, and then she stood with one foot on the stage and started to roll one stocking down that long leg. She turned, then, and removed the other stocking, before standing with her hands on the stage, her legs spread, twisting and bending her body to the music.

  Martin was hard against Selena’s forearm now. She felt a little guilty to have been so distracted by that writhing body, so much so that she had not even noticed the transition from soft to so hard he was testing the strength of those linen pants. She shifted her arm, allowing him to adjust, and now his erection lay across his lap, in line with Selena’s forearm.

  “Would it be rude to suck you now?” she murmured into his ear.

  The dancer was down to just her bra and a thong tied in a bow at each hip. As Selena watched, she dropped to her knees, so that one of the young women at the front could reach round and fumble with the catch of her bra.

  Clutching the bra to her breasts, the dancer rose to her feet again and resumed that sinuous, sexy dance.

  There was a tension in the way Martin held Selena now, that arm across her back. She pressed her arm down against his erection, wondering how long it would take them to get back to their hotel if they left right now.

  Bra discarded, the dancer had good breasts, natural-looking and well-shaped. She approached along the central aisle between the seats, and paused by the couple across from Selena, her hips doing a twisting, rolling thing in time to the music. The dancer leaned down and said something. After a second or two the woman reached up and tugged at the bow of the dancer’s thong, releasing it so that now it was only held up by the bow at the other side and the dancer’s pressing hand as she cupped herself.

  She turned and made eye contact with Selena.

  For an instant, then, her eyes flitted down to where Selena’s arm lay in Martin’s lap and she smiled, and then her eyes locked on Selena’s again.

  She took a step towards her, another, and now she was there, dancing almost in Selena’s face.

  Close up, her skin was smooth, her belly flat, and that rolling, twisting thing...

  Selena looked up and the dancer glanced down towards the remaining bow at her hip.

  It was clear what she wanted: Selena was to untie the remaining bow.

  They must only have been a second or so like that, but the moment seemed to draw out: the eye contact, that little smile again, and all the time, the sinuous, sensual movement of the dancer’s body.

  Selena leaned forward, dipped her head and took the loose end of the bow in her teeth. A roll of the dancer’s body pressed that hip, the top of the thigh, against Selena’s face and then she pulled away. Selena felt the give as the bow came undone, the slight tug of panties coming away, and then she was left with the thong hanging from her mouth.

  Fully naked now, a narrow strip of hair at her pussy, the dancer gave another roll of her hips, briefly pressing bare flesh against Selena’s face again before twisting and turning away, moving back towards the stage again.

  Selena’s jaw sagged, and the thong fell to the ground. She turned, and Martin was laughing, and now she laughed too. She moved her arm, let her hand rest briefly in his lap, squeezed, and then pulled it away, folding her arms across her chest, hugging herself, surprised at the sudden racing of her heart, and the heat on her face.

  §

  That dancer was the exception, as others followed. There was a surreal slapstick routine where girls dressed as nurses were smacked and chased around the stage by men dressed in military uniform. Then another couple went through a choreographed sequence of positions, the sex as spiritless as it could possibly be. The show finished with a stripper who did things with a banana you wouldn’t think the fruit was hard enough to do; and then someone in a gorilla suit with a strap-on dildo appeared from the back of the theater and came down to join her on the stage and then on that rotating circular bed.

  “So,” said Martin, as the audience started to file out. “That was interesting.”

  “Mixed, wasn’t it?” said Selena. They hung back a little, the narrow stairwell packed with departing bodies.

  “There was one you seemed to appreciate.” He was smiling – that look that said he’d read her completely.

  “You didn’t seem to mind her either,” she said, then stretched up to kiss him. “You think we should go back to the hotel, now? Long day tomorrow, and all that.”

  They came to where the stairs dropped down to street level, but then a guy leaned across from the doorway opposite and said, “Your drinks.”

  “I... We’ve already had our drinks, thank you.” Was this some kind of scam? They’d already had their complimentary drinks. The guy was trying to usher them through now – that was the doorway that led through to the theater’s tiny bar, Selena remembered.

  “It’s good,” said the guy. “Free drinks. From the manager. Through here – she’s over there.”

  Martin looked at Selena and shrugged, and she followed him through.

  The manager was in her mid-twenties, sitting at a table at the far end of the small bar. She wore jeans and a white t-shirt, and her golden hair was tied back. It took Selena a few seconds to work out where she’d seen her before but then, when the woman glanced across and made eye contact, it all fell into place.

  “You’re the manager?” asked Selena, approaching the woman.

  The woman stood and offered a hand to shake. “Yes, yes, I am. I multi-task, you know? Please, my name is Nadia.” Her English was flawless, with only a slight accent, maybe something East European.

  “Selena.”

  “And Martin.”

  “You want to sit down?” said Nadia. “Have a drink, both of you.”

  They sat, and the guy who’d stopped them leaving brought a tray of beers over.

  “So how did you end up running a place like this?” asked Selena.

  “I started as an artiste while I was studying at university,” said Nadia. “Now I help run the place, but I still like to dance, you know?” Then she smiled at Selena, and added, “When you undid me with your teeth I didn’t know what you were going to do. I like it when things
liven up, you know? So what did you think of the show?”

  “It was... mixed,” said Selena.

  Briefly, she wondered how Nadia would take her answer, then the club’s manager laughed, and said, “Yes, ‘mixed’ is good, I think. It is a show for the tourists. You are tourists, I know, but... you know what I mean? People come here so they can say they have been. They like to tell their friends about what the lady did with the banana and that they watched people fucking on stage, you know? The show is for them: a bit of fun, a bit of, what do you say? Slapstick. It’s not real sexy, you know?”

  “Most of it, no,” said Selena. All the time they spoke, Nadia had focused on Selena. It was surprisingly intense and... flattering. Selena glanced at Martin and he smiled back. He must have sensed the chemistry – she knew from his look that he was enjoying this.

  “Your act,” Selena went on. “That was different.”

  Nadia looked down, strangely self-conscious for a woman who had been dancing naked through the audience only a short time before.

  “That was intense,” Selena added.

  Nadia looked up, her head still dipped, a coy look. “I saw you... Martin. I saw you were both enjoying.”

  Selena remembered her arm pressing down in Martin’s lap as Nadia had danced towards them. “Does anyone ever get too, um, excited at the shows?”

  Nadia laughed. “We get a lot of drunk people. Sometimes they try to join in, but that’s why we have guys like Aaron and Stephan ready to step in. As long as they stay in their seats, though, we don’t really mind. We just want people to leave happy, you know?”

  Maybe Selena had held back too much, then. She wondered how it would have been for Martin if she’d played with him more while Nadia had danced...

  “So why did you ask us back here?” she asked. “I’m guessing it was for more than a bit of audience feedback.”

  Nadia laughed. “You guys like to party?” she asked. “You like to play a little?”

  With the emphasis on the ‘play’ Selena knew exactly what she meant. She glanced at Martin, wondering if he’d got the meaning of Nadia’s words, too.

  “Maybe,” she said. “What kind of party?”

  “There’s a place,” said Nadia. “A friend’s place. Kind of a rolling party. People just turn up, stay for as long as they want, and then go. People having fun. People who like to play. I finish here in an hour. I could meet you there?”

  With that, she leaned forward, put a hand to the side of Selena’s face and kissed her. Nadia’s lips were soft and full, her tongue darting and persistent as it darted between Selena’s lips. She pulled away and Selena sat back and Martin was just sitting there, watching, smiling.

  “You think we should go?”

  §

  The address Nadia gave them was a short distance away, an easy walk according to the map on Martin’s iPhone. Night had drawn in while they were in the theater, and the streets and bars were bustling.

  They threaded their way through the Red Light District, hand in hand. No words. Selena wasn’t sure what to say, or what they were heading towards.

  Finally, she tugged at Martin’s hand, forcing him to stop and turn. She stretched up and kissed him. So different to kissing Nadia’s full lips: his kiss was firmer, his lips harder, and his stubble scraped. And those strong arms wrapped themselves around her so that her body just molded itself against his.

  “You okay?” he said, when they eventually pulled apart.

  She nodded. “You good with this?” she asked. So much still unspoken, but now she understood that they didn’t need to say it out loud: they both knew what kind of party they were heading for, and they were both good with it.

  “Any ground rules?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I love you,” he said. “Will that do?”

  She nodded, took his hand, and they walked on.

  §

  The address was for an apartment above a clothes store. They hesitated outside, then turned away, found a bar and had a drink. Give Nadia time to get here, too. They talked about their trip, the canal tour, the journey to Paris tomorrow.

  Then, about half an hour later they rose, crossed the street and rang on the buzzer.

  A man’s voice spoke from the little speaker: “Ja?”

  “Hi,” said Martin. “We’re friends of Nadia. She said she’d meet us here.”

  There was a buzz. Selena pushed at the door, it opened and they headed upstairs.

  A door at the top stood partly open and they went inside.

  It took a moment for Selena to take it all in. They were in an open area – it looked like several rooms had been knocked together to create this space. There were sofas, deep armchairs, a bar, even, all lit in a low light. People stood and sat in small groups. People in suits, jeans, dresses. Women in lingerie, men in various states of undress. Naked people, some of them just drinking and chatting, while others...

  A guy leaned back against the wall near the door, his pants round his ankles and his dick deep in the mouth of a Chinese woman who was on her knees before him. His hands were buried deep in her blue-black hair, and his head was tipped back, his eyes closed tight.

  And there, on a sofa a guy lay back, his face being ridden by a Rubenesque blonde, who was grinding down onto him energetically.

  The more she looked, the more she saw. Couples kissing, touching, fucking, or just sitting or lying in various tangled, spent combinations of bodies.

  Martin was still holding her hand, and now his grip briefly tightened. “You okay?” he asked again.

  “I am,” she said. “I really am.”

  A fiftyish guy in a suit came to greet them. “Hey,” he said, “you’re friends of Nadia, right? She called, said she hoped you’d come. I show you around, yes? This is my place, my friends. You like?”

  §

  There wasn’t much more to this place than the big, open area and a few bedrooms tucked away at the back – all of them occupied. After a quick look around, Martin and Selena had drinks at the bar, poured by the place’s owner, who introduced himself as Dirk.

  They didn’t say much, just let their eyes roam.

  “There is no pressure, yes?” Dirk had told them. “Everybody here has their own limits, yes? Just chill, man. Have a drink and chill a bit, yes?”

  Finally, Martin said, “What do you think?”

  Selena looked at him, hesitating, then said, “You want to know my reaction when we stepped through that door? I felt... like I’d come home. Does that sound odd? This place... the vibe... it’s so laid back, isn’t it? People just doing what they want.” She studied Martin’s features for a reaction, suddenly worried that she might have shocked him. “What do you think?”

  Another hesitation, and then that smile broke out across his face. “You want to know what I think?” he said. “I think this...”

  He reached for her, pulled her towards him, and kissed her hard. One hand held the back of her head, controlling her movements as his tongue drove deep. The other stole down to the small of her back and drew her body against his.

  There was hardness there, pressing into her midriff. She pressed against him, rolled her hips against him, trying to find a position where that hard shaft could be pressing against her in just the right place.

  “Hey.” It was a voice that was familiar already, even though they had only just met earlier. Nadia. A hand on Selena’s shoulder and she pulled away from Martin’s kiss, twisted at the waist, and met Nadia’s soft mouth with her own. Then Nadia pulled away and stretched to kiss Martin, first on the neck and then on the mouth.

  What a strange thing... watching Martin kissing another woman. The three of them, their bodies pressing together, hands resting on each other, squeezing and exploring.

  “We get a room, ja?”

  Selena shook her head. She took Nadia’s face in both hands and kissed her, then reached down, found her t-shirt and pulled it upwards.

  She was wearing a simple white bra, which Selena deftly unc
lipped and removed.

  Selena dipped her head to one full breast, found the hardness of the nipple and sucked it in between her teeth. With one hand she cupped that breast, taking its soft weight in her hand and gently squeezing as she drew her head back, tugging on the nipple with her teeth, flicking it with the tip of her tongue.

  Drawing away, Selena pulled her light summer dress up over her head, aware that people were watching. Enjoying all those eyes on her as she came to stand there in just her bra and a tiny lace thong.

  Nadia’s eyes hadn’t left her. Now the other woman reached out to put a hand on Selena’s shoulder, pressing down. Selena dropped to her knees, looking up at Nadia, their eyes still locked.

  Now Nadia began to dance, weaving those sinuous shapes with her body. She reached for the button of her jeans and popped it open, then slid the zipper down. Turning, she started to slide them down across her hips, revealing the bare flesh of her ass, the flimsy back of a thong losing itself between her cheeks. Jeans down to her thighs, still dancing, she started to move around Selena, before finally she slipped her jeans down and stepped out of them.

  She came to stand close, and Selena reached up, put her hands on that perfect ass and drew her in close.

  Lace scraped against her face, and she pressed her mouth against the flimsy fabric while her hands worked that ass. Nadia ground against her, still twisting and moving.

  Selena drew her head away a little, and looked around until she saw Martin standing at the bar, watching, smiling. She blew him a kiss, then moved her hands round, hooked her fingers in Nadia’s thong and pulled it down.

  The strip of hair was barely as wide as a finger. Selena pressed her lips against it at the top, then slowly drew her tongue downwards, following that trail to a softness, a parting, a tiny hardness.

  Nadia shifted a little, moving her legs apart, and Selena slid a hand up the inside of a thigh until her knuckles came up against softness, wetness. She pushed up, turning her hand so that her fingers parted Nadia’s labia, found the opening, and slid inside.