“Not a bar, honey, you need to work in a strip club,” exclaimed Candy. “And before you say no,” she said hurriedly, holding up her hands to stave off our objections. “Picture yourself taking home $300 a night in tips.”
“$300 a night!” I spat in derision. “I don’t believe it.”
“John, don’t forget, I used to work in that business and I still know club owners. That’s a conservative estimate,” said Candy, drawing herself up smugly.
I silenced by her confidence and I could tell that Sarah was surprised at the wage. “But that’s just for the younger girls I’m sure,” said my wife, obviously intrigued at this point.
“Honey, don’t you worry about that, you look great. Why you look like you’re still in your 30’s. Besides, it’s not the looks that get you money in that job. You just have to talk to the guys and team up with the dancers to sell those drinks. And believe me, an older confident lady like yourself will be able to handle those fellows way better than the nervous young girls in there. Why half of those younger girls can’t even get up the nerve to flirt with the customers.”
“Why what makes you think I have the nerve to flirt with strange men in a strip club, Candy?” gasped my wife, putting her hand to her chest in surprise. But there was a twinkle in her eye as she said it that made me feel nervous.
“I’ve got a hunch about you,” said Candy, wagging a finger at my wife and squinting at her playfully. “My father always told me to watch out for the quiet ones.”
“Well, what do you think, John?” asked my wife with a sigh. “Should I give a go?”
“Sarah, you can’t be serious?” I stammered, shocked that it had come to this.
“Frankly, dear. The way we are drawing down our savings is really alarming. If the pay is as good as Candy claims, why we would be back to the income level we had when you were working. It would make me a lot less worried about our future.”
“But what if you don’t like it?” I asked skeptically.
“Well for that amount of money, I will grin and bear it.”
“That’s the spirit, dear,” chimed in Candy, clapping her hands in delight. “But it’s not so bad. You might actually get a kick out of it. I’ll make some phone calls and find you a spot at a nice place.”
And Candy was true to her word. The very next day, she arranged for Sarah to go for an interview at an upscale gentlemen’s club downtown.
“Uh, Sarah, I am quite uncomfortable about the whole thing really,” I told my wife as she put on makeup to go to the interview. “I mean, I don’t like the idea of these strange men ogling you in a skimpy cocktail dress.” But as soon as I said it, I actually felt my penis stiffen unaccountably at the thought, which was extremely embarrassing.
“Please, John, I am nervous enough as it is,” said Sarah pausing as she applied her lipstick. “And if I may say so, if you hadn’t lost your job we wouldn’t be in this position.” She cast me an annoyed look that lasted just a moment as she saw my face redden in shame. “Oh, John, I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t mean it. You took wonderful care of me all these years. Now it’s my turn to pull my weight and bring home the bacon for a while. I don’t mind it. Let’s just try to be strong for each other, shall we?” She smiled at me and touched my cheek with her hand. I looked her up and down, noticing that she chose a modest dress that still showed off her slim figure and large bosom to good effect.
“Well you do look simply smashing, and the men will all be falling over themselves to give you tips.”
“Thank you darling, you give me confidence,” said my wife, and off she went to her interview.
She was gone for several hours and I was starting to get worried when she finally arrived home, breathless and bright eyed, with her cheeks glowing a rosy red that I hadn’t seen in years.
“My goodness, Sarah, what took so long? I thought this was just an interview!” I exclaimed.
“I’m so sorry, darling, but it was quite a whirlwind of activity once I got there,” she said, rushing over to the couch and throwing herself down dramatically by my side. Her hair was done up in a curly style I hadn’t seen before and I realized she was wearing garish stage makeup.
“Look at you dear, what happened to your hair and makeup?” I asked in dismay.
“Let me start from the beginning,” she said, tossing her purse aside and leaning back in the couch. “When I arrived, Tony and Chico, the managers interviewed me for just a few minutes and then asked to see me in the cocktail server outfit. They held up a tiny dress and stockings and asked me to get changed. I asked them where I could go to have some privacy and they just laughed and said I should change right there in their office while they watched.” She gave me a bashful look at this point as I felt the blood drain from my face.
“You can’t be serious,” I stammered.
Sarah reached out and grabbed my hand to comfort me. “Now darling, imagine how I felt. I am a grown women, but these two young fellows had me blushing like a schoolgirl. I told them that I thought this request was very inappropriate, but they just laughed and told me that if I couldn’t strip to my underwear for them, then I probably wouldn’t be able to handle the job. Now I felt challenged by that, and I wanted to prove my mettle, so I stood facing them and took my dress right off while they watched.”
“Good God!”
“I know, darling, aren’t I scandalous!” giggled Sarah, slapping my thigh gaily. “And those two scoundrels just drank in the sight of me in my underwear and simply growled their approval. I have to say, it was quite flattering for an old lady like myself.”
“Now honey, you are only 42 after all, and you still have a wonderful figure,” I said, sensing that this was the thing to say at that moment.
“Oh, yes, apparently I do from the reaction I got from Tony and Chico,” she said, tossing her hair playfully. “Anyway, as they watched me put on the fishnet stockings that are part of the uniform for the cocktail waitresses, they asked me if I wouldn’t prefer to take a position as an erotic dancer.”
I just laughed out loud at the thought of my meek wife dancing on a pole for a bunch of crass boors.
“Why are you laughing?” she asked drawing herself up indignantly. “You just said that I have a nice figure, and I did take all those dance lessons.”
“Dance lessons?” I laughed. “What does ballroom dancing have to do with stripping in a club?”
My wife blushed and said nothing, casting her eyes downward.
“Come now, dear, this is really beyond the pale. Stripping nude on stage for strange men? You can’t seriously be considering this?”
“Darling, you haven’t heard how much it earns,” she said solemnly, nodding her head at me.
“But, but, there is more to life than money, isn’t there?” I was feeling very nervous at this point, amazed that she seemed to be seriously considering this.
“Well of course dear, but actually, I was intrigued by the idea. It might be exciting. Maybe I’ve been too conservative, sexually.”
“Now wait a minute, I won’t have my wife getting naked in front of strange men. It just isn’t proper!”
“Now look here, John Goodson, I may be your wife, but I am a grown woman, and I can make my own decisions about what sort of work I try,” said Sarah drawing herself upright and tilting her chin up defiantly. “The fact is that men will pay inexplicable sums just to look at a woman’s boobies. I could make as much in one week as an entire month at the library. And though I always thought strip clubs would be seedy and gross, Tony and Chico’s place was quite classy, with a better sort of clientele.”
“Sarah, I am simply flabbergasted that you would consider this. What if someone we know saw you there?”
“Come now, John. Do you really think any of our friends frequent gentlemen’s clubs in the city? I find that far-fetched. Besides, if any man we know asked me what I was doing there, I could very well ask him the same question and then threaten to tell his wife!” Sarah broke out laughing with devilis
h twinkle in her eye and slapped my thigh again. “Come now John, don’t be a stick in the mud, let your old wife have a bit of a midlife spree. I will just try it for a few weeks to see how it goes.”
I looked at Sarah’s merry expression and felt quite conflicted. “I have to admit Sarah, this makes me jealous to think of you stripping naked for other men, but I guess it’s also sort of racy in a way. Maybe I’ve taken you too much for granted after all these years.”
“Well if you want to hear something racy, let me tell you what happened when Tony and Chico convinced me to do an audition for them, stripping on stage.” Sarah wriggled with excitement at the thought.
“What, you did that today?” I gasped.
“Yep,” said Sarah with a smug little smile. “I climbed right on stage in my underwear and fishnets and did a little foxtrot. I teased them a bit, unsnapping my bra and holding it in front of my boobs and making as though to take it off before pulling it back in place at the last minute. Then I dropped the bra but covered up my nipples with my hands. Then I covered my breasts with one hand while inching down my panties with the other. I covered my vagina with one hand and wiggled my panties down to my ankles by shaking my hips, and then I finally let them see it all at once, throwing my hands in the air for a grand finale. They simply loved it and the shouted and clapped with excitement. They said that a lot of the younger girls didn’t do enough teasing, but that really makes it fun I think.”
“I can’t believe you did that!” I said, my mouth dry. I had developed a painful erection as my wife’s story progressed. “I have to admit it was a titillating tale.”
“So I see,” exclaimed Sarah noticing the bulge in my pants. “Here, let me help you with that.” And then she unzipped my fly, pulled out my penis and started sucking it right away. After a moment, she pulled my dick from her mouth and swung her leg over to straddle me. My erection pushed right inside her hot wet pussy and we both groaned with pleasure. As she started bouncing up and down on my cock, I had a thought.
“Wait, you aren’t wearing any panties,” I said.
“Nope, Chico asked if he could keep them as a memento, that cheeky fellow,” she panted.
Soon I was spurting my cum inside her, gripping her soft round ass in ecstasy as she fingered herself to climax with me. She jumped off of my deflating cock agilely and pulled the hem of her dress down.
“Alrighty then, what should I make for dinner? Steak?” She skipped off to the kitchen to fix dinner as I shook my head with bemusement.
The next day, she started her new job and I felt awkward waiting at home for her to return. I kept imagining her stripping naked for strange men and I kept getting embarrassing erections at the thought even though my gut was churning with anxiety, jealousy, and shame. I couldn’t relax and kept wandering around the the house in a distracted state, rubbing my sweaty palms on the thighs of my trousers trying to dry them.
When she finally arrived home after her first shift, I had to force myself to sit down and pretend to read a book to keep myself from running to greet her at the front door, which would have seemed strange and needy.
Sarah had a strange swagger to her step as she entered the living room and joined me on the couch. Her cheeks glowed with excitement again and she held her chin a bit higher than normal. She seemed confident, almost haughty.
“Well, you seem quite pleased with yourself, young lady,” I said, teasing her and putting aside my book, which I realized I had been holding upside down.
“Yes, well, this job looks to be even more lucrative than I imagined,” she said, pulling a fat roll of bills from her purse and tossing it on the table. “I made more money than any of the younger girls, and they all crowded around me asking for pointers by the end of the night.”
“Really?” I said, grabbing the roll and thumbing through it, impressed by the number of 20’s and 50’s in the wad of cash. “What’s your secret?”
My wife gave me a devilish look and leaned forward to confide in me. “Well first of all, I don’t just ignore the fellows who hold up smaller bills, I taunt them and play them off against one another. If one client holds up a five dollar bill, I point to the guy waving a twenty and tease him for being cheap. I made a lot of crude jokes equating the size of bills to penis sizes.”
“Oh goodness,” I laughed. “That doesn’t sound like you.” I relished the idea of my normally quiet wife manipulating these strip club denizens. It was a side of her I never would have guessed at.
“Well the whiskey helped, I must admit,” she chuckled. “Also, I make sure to only flash my naked body a little bit and I cover right up again. I make them pay for every little flash of nipple or, uh, flash of pink.” She blushed deeply as she said this.
“Flash of pink?” I gulped, my throat constricting and my mouth going dry.
“I know, darling. Try not to think about it too much. This is simply a shameless profession,” she said taking my hand and giving me a look of concern. “Especially this whole VIP room business. But I have to admit, that’s where a girl can earn quite a chunk if she isn’t too squeamish.”
“Squeamish?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Oh, you know, about semen and such,” she said, gritting her teeth a bit in hesitation. She saw my face go white as I started to hyperventilate and she patted my hand urgently. “Honestly, darling, it really is best if you don’t think about it in too much detail. Let’s just think about how we will spend our money.” But then she noticed the tent in my trousers from my stiff penis. “Oh, here, let me take care of this for you dear,” she said, expertly unzipping my fly and extracting my penis deftly.
I groaned in pleasure as she rubbed my balls with one hand and jerked my shaft with the other.
“There, now, doesn’t this feel better,” she cooed soothingly.
“Sarah, I want to come down there and see what sort of things are going on,” I stammered as she pulled my pud, bringing me closer and closer to climax.
“Ok, darling, whatever you say,” she said, dropping her head down to engulf my glans. She sucked with surprising force as she tugged on my cock and I found myself ejaculating into her mouth within minutes. “There, now, don’t you feel, better?” she asked with a friendly smile as she wiped my cum from her chin. “Now let’s go out to a nice restaurant. My treat!”
The next night as my wife got ready to go back to the strip club, I confronted her.
“Sarah, I am going to come down there and see what goes on at this strip club,” I demanded shakily.
She paused as she was applying her garish stripper makeup and bit her lip as she looked at me with trepidation. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, darling. You will just get upset.”
“Why would I get upset?” I asked, feeling my stomach churn with anxiety.
“Well, you know, dear, perhaps it will make you jealous to see me carrying on with the clientele,” she said taking my hand. “You know it’s all perfectly harmless, strictly business, but it might be hard for a husband to watch his wife, uh, servicing other men’s sexual needs.”
“Servicing their needs?” I squawked indignantly.
“Well, certainly dear, that’s what exotic dancers do, isn’t it?” she asked innocently. “Men have these sexual urges and some can’t get their needs met for whatever reason, so they pay women in strip clubs to, well, to service their needs. I mean, do I have to spell it out for you?”
“I’ve never been to a strip club, Sarah,” I said reasonably. “How would I know what goes on there?”
She looked at me compassionately for a moment and then sighed. “Alright, dear. But please don’t make a scene. This is a very lucrative job I have.”
My wife chatted away happily as I drove her to the club where she worked, but my mind with distracted by jealousy and excitement. Part of me was extremely aroused by the idea of other men ogling my naked wife, but I was afraid to admit that to Sarah.
When we arrived at the club, Sarah hurried off to a side e
ntrance after telling the doorman that I was her guest. The doorman looked me over with interest. He resembled a linebacker stuffed into a tuxedo that seemed ready to burst apart at the seems from his massive muscles at any moment. I was immediately wary of him.
“You Sarah’s friend, huh?” he asked, rolling his neck to loosen some stiffness.
“Err, well, I’m her husband actually,” I admitted timidly.
The big man broke out in a hearty guffaw before recovering his composure. “The fuck? I figured the old girl was divorced or something. You into some kinky shit, huh?” He gave me a lecherous grin and patted me on the back. “Have fun, buddy.”
I wanted to object, but a line was forming behind me so I just ducked my head in shame and entered the club. I knew it was an upscale place, but I was surprised at how modern and tasteful the interior was, with backlit filigree wall treatments and properly done faux-marble bar. The main room had a 40 foot ceiling and a mezzanine level with additional seating. The crowd was mostly comprised of businessmen in expensive suits and I felt immediately underdressed as I made my way to the bar.
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