“I know exactly what kind, Mamá.” His smile says he sees right through me.
“Maybe we should get out of here,” Noah suggests over my shoulder. He brushes my hair aside and kisses the side of my neck. I feel the goosebumps everywhere.
This is exactly what I feared. The temptation is strong, and really, there’s no reason to resist it. We’re all grownups, my husband approves. The guys want to fuck me, and I want them. I can’t hang my hat on morality anymore—not after I’ve been screwing Conner every chance I get. It’s just my silly fears, my fear of completely losing control with these guys and not having my husband there to rein me back. But that shot warmed me up and watching Lacey dance got me really heated. Losing control sounds good right about now. You promised yourself not to, the little angel on my shoulder reminds me. I want to tell her to buzz off.
“It’s really warm in here, isn’t it?” I ask, sliding out from between the two guys.
I do a little hip sway of my own to the music and strip my long sweater off, fully revealing my tight, sleeveless top beneath. I hand the sweater to Mateo, who folds it and puts it on my stool. I take my beer from the bar and down the rest of it. Was that beer number two or number three? I’ve lost count, because I’ve got a nice buzz going now. Time to switch to water if I really want to drive home. I keep swaying to the music.
“Take it off, baby,” Noah encourages.
“Yeah, do it, honey.” That’s from one of the other guys around us.
Am I a cliché or what? Middle-aged woman gets a little drunk at the strip club and wants to jump in? I really am better than that, even if it’s fun to pretend I’m not for just a minute. Noah and Mateo stare at the mock turtleneck hugging my breasts as I move, and they aren’t the only ones. I grab at the hem, tugging it up just enough to flash a band of pale flesh above the skirt. My tummy is not my favorite part of my anatomy—I’ve had a kid!—but these black lights are supposed to work magic, right? Mateo plays it cool, but Noah looks like he’s about to fall off his stool. My top goes no higher. Instead I step between my guys and slap them both on the chest. A fresh beer is waiting for me on the bar, and although I know I shouldn’t, I snatch it up and take a long draw on it. It hits the spot, and the hand holding it stops trembling. I pulled back, I tell myself. See, I’m still in control. I’m disappointed John isn’t with us. He’d love my behavior tonight. I can’t wait to get home and tell him. My husband will take good care of me, giving me some of what I desperately want from my guys.
“You’re such a tease,” Noah says.
“You didn’t really think I was going to take off my top in the middle of a bar, did you? I’m not that crazy.”
“I think he was just hoping,” Mateo says, laughing.
I’m barely back on my stool when hands on my shoulders turn me outward to face away from the bar. Standing there in all her glory, is Lacey. Her skirt is back in place, brushing the tops of her thigh highs, and her bra is back on with her top, but the blouse is left unbuttoned. She must have put her jacket away.
“You need to come back with me for a dance,” Lacey says. Her voice is sensual, like golden honey.
I just stare at her. She’s even prettier up close, and now I can tell she’s at least in her mid-20s, like my guys. She’s done a great cat’s eye with her make-up, accentuating the natural feline tilt of her glacial-blue eyes, which are even more startling up close. Lacey did not ask me if I wanted a dance. She told me I needed one. She just might be right, but I can’t answer because I seem to have lost my voice.
“What’s your name?” she asks.
“Carol,” I rasp, and then repeat it more loudly, realizing she couldn’t hear me over the music.
“Are you coming back or what, Carol?”
Lacey takes my hand and pulls me off the barstool and I don’t resist. I guess that’s my yes. She looks to my guys—who’ve been watching, mesmerized—and says, “Whichever of you pays can come back with us, but only one of you.”
My guys scramble for their money. Mateo goes for his wallet, while Noah digs into his pocket and pulls out a wad of bills that flies everywhere. He snatches a twenty out of the air and holds it out to Lacey triumphantly. She regards him with amusement.
“Okay, you’ll do,” she says.
Seven
Lacey leads me away by the hand, leaving Noah to follow us. She cuts through the crowd like an icebreaker to where a very large bouncer waits behind a little podium. Beyond him waits a doorway draped with strands of beads. Lacey turns to Noah, “It’s usually twenty-five a dance, but it’s forty for both of you to come back. Pay the man.”
The price sounds high to me, but Noah doesn’t hesitate, forking over the cash to the bouncer. The bouncer sweeps the beads aside and we pass him into the back room.
My hand tightens on Lacey’s because the room seems pitch black to me, except for my white sweater, which glows like the moon. Black light is the only light back here, and it’s so dim it’s more like a suggestion of lighting than actual light. Lacey confidently leads me forward and as my eyes adjust, I can make out details in the faint light. The middle of the room is empty, and the sides are draped with beads like the door. Lacey sweeps another curtain of beads aside, revealing a loveseat behind them, where she gently directs me to sit. Noah tries to sit down beside me, but Lacey directs him to sit on the slouching armrest. Lacey needs room to perform.
She waits for a new song to begin, pushing my knees apart so she can dance between them. I sink deep into the loveseat and she looms large over me, like a goddess descending from the heavens to seduce me. I realize I’m holding my breath, looking up and down Lacey’s lean body the same way I crave men to look at me. She strips off her shirt and lays it beside me.
“Have you had a couch dance before, Carol?” she asks.
“With my husband,” I answer, nodding.
Lacey shoots Noah a quick look. He’s obviously not my husband, but she doesn’t comment. Instead she starts moving to a new song. She moves sinuously to the music—some R&B song I don’t recognize—and I follow the curves her body creates like she’s hypnotizing me. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. This really isn’t my first couch dance. I did a couple with John when he took me to the gentleman’s club. Those were sexy and the girls were very good, but I knew the girls were putting on a show with me for my husband. Lacey feels more dangerous. I know she’s doing this for me—but also for herself. Noah is just along for the ride—and his money. Lacey turns and shakes her butt at me while sliding her skirt over her petite hips. She’s got a cute little butt. At forty and after a kid, I could never have a butt like that, no matter how long I spent at the gym. But I don’t envy her as much as admire her. I’m sure much different thoughts go through men’s minds when they’re receiving a dance.
Lacey is a vision in her black bra, matching thong, thigh highs and heels. I can see a second tattoo now, a tiny hummingbird at her bikini line. I wonder what John would think if I came home with a tattoo, something small and discreet like Lacey’s. I sneak a peek at Noah, worried he’s distracted, but the boy deserves credit. He’s watching me. Noah’s more interested in my reactions than in the dancer in front of me. I smile and blow him a kiss. He’ll be rewarded for his attentiveness later.
My attention is drawn back to Lacey when she comes closer, leaning over me, with a hand braced against the back of the loveseat on either side of me. She bends deep at the waist and curves her torso up, sweeping her breasts close to my face. She smells like vanilla and baby powder, and heat rolls off her exposed body in waves. She climbs onto the loveseat with me, knees precariously perched on the edge, straddling one of my legs.
“You’re allowed to touch me,” she whispers. “The rules are different for girls here.”
I remember that from my couch dances with John. Those dancers encouraged me to touch them everywhere. I wasn’t brave enough to go all the way then, but I’m a new woman now. I tentatively touch her flat, taut tummy as if I’m afraid it’s going to b
urn my fingers. Her skin is hot all right, but it feels nice. I’m a little envious of her toned body, but I bet she hasn’t had kids yet. I slide my hands up her smooth skin and touch the lace at the bottom of her bra, tracing the underwire. It’s a very nice bra, but heavily padded. I have one pretty similar. Lacey unhooks it and slides it off.
“Do you like my tits?” she asks, brushing back the long, copper hair that covers them. her nipples are dark and excited, pierced with little silver barbells. All I can think is, that must have hurt. Lacey leans further forward and my hands slide over them.
“They’re great. Really nice,” I reply.
I cup her breasts—her tits—and massage them. They’re much smaller than mine, but a nice handful for my smaller, feminine hands. And god are they firm! I remember when mine were like that. It’s fun touching them, and I like the way Lacey presses them into my hands.
“Mmm, I love having my tits played with. Your hands are so nice, Carol,” Lacey moans.
“I love how they feel. They really are great.” I finger one of her piercings. “Did these hurt?”
Lacey laughs. “Yeah, can’t lie, but it was worth it. Feels great when they’re played with. Here, don’t be shy.”
She puts her hand over mine and rubs my thumb over her nipple, flicking the barbell. Lacey hisses and makes me do it again. Her nipple stiffens further, like a stubby eraser, and I keep teasing the barbell on my own, getting off on how much she likes it. I was afraid to hurt her, but Lacey seems to like it a bit rough. I’m so focused on her now that it’s like Noah isn’t even here, but I doubt he minds. He must be loving the show.
“Mmm…yes…girl touches are so much better, aren’t they?” Lacey coos. I know it’s her job to sell it, but she’s convincing me she’s really into it.
“I don’t have a lot of experience with that,” I confess.
“Could have fooled me.”
Lacey presses closer and her tits are in my face, her pussy against my thigh, pushing my skirt higher. She grinds on my thigh and I feel her wetness through her skimpy thong. Feeling her arousal feeds my own, and I’m suddenly aware my heart feels like it’s going to pound out of my chest. Her hand slides under the curtain of my hair, fingers running through it and her sharp fingernails tickling the back of my neck. I gasp as goosebumps run down my spine. I pinch her nipples in response, and Lacey digs her nails into my flesh. It stings just a bit, and I like it.
“You’re so beautiful, Carol. You remind me of a friend of mine,” Lacey whispers, bringing her lips down close to my ear.
“A good friend?”
“Kayla and I are very close.”
“As close as this?” I ask.
“Sometimes. Not often enough.”
Lacey presses her pussy tighter against my thigh and I moan. Her thong scratches across my skin and her wetness smears onto me. I don’t recall the lap dance I had with my husband being like this. I don’t remember the dancer being so into me, and I certainly wasn’t this into her. Lacey is seducing me, and I’m happy to go along. She lifts my glasses off and hands them to Noah, asking, “Can you look after these?”
“Anything for you,” he replies, grinning like an idiot.
“This song’s about over. You want me to keep going, don’t you?”
“Yeah, oh yeah.”
“You really want me to take care of Carol here, don’t you?”
“Absolutely, Lacey.”
“I could really give you guys a good time upstairs in one of the private rooms.”
Noah looks uncertain. I bet he’s calculating how much money he has. I’m having a good time, but I don’t want to bankrupt the poor guy. I let him off the hook.
“I don’t know. Let’s stay here,” I say hesitantly, even though part of me is dying to know what would happen with Lacey in a private room. I’m so damned dirty!
“It’s okay. I can take care of you here, too. Like I said, the rules are different for girls.”
Lacey turns around and plants her tight butt right in my lap, leaning back against me. She puts both my hands on her tits and grinds her butt against me, pushing my skirt almost to my waist. I know what this is supposed to do for guys, but I don’t have the same equipment. But Lacey knows how to make it spicy. Her head is back on my shoulder and her hot breath on my cheek gives me all the feels. She brushes her cheeks against mine and our soft skin together is divine. I massage her tits and finger her nipples and her breath gets heavy. Lacey also remembers to keep Noah looped in. She reaches out and rubs his thigh, just beside his bulge.
“He’s not your husband, is he?” Lacey whispers, her lips brushing my ear.
“No,” I whimper, feeling control slipping away. This dancer is perfectly pushing all my buttons. I don’t know why I told her the truth, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Don’t worry, I don’t judge. I think it’s hot you’re taking care of yourself,” she remarks.
I feel the need to explain myself to Lacey and tell her I’m not a cheater, but I don’t know how to do that without our sounding like freaks. Before I can put the words together, she changes the subject by dragging her lips across my neck and nibbling on my earlobe. I shiver and my hands drop to her hips as I lay back and enjoy the rising heat Lacey’s stirring in my body.
Lacey slides down out of my lap and I whimper in disappointment. She squats on her heels, kneeling between my thighs and staring up at me from under the copper bangs of her wig. Her hands are on my thighs, massaging and pushing them apart. My skirt’s hiked all the way up at this point and she slides her hands up and down, dragging her long nails along my flesh. Lacey has my heart racing, just like Natalia did during my massage. Could I be into women and not know it for all these years? Or maybe I’m just so slutty now that anyone can seduce me.
“I love your boots. I have a pair just like them,” she coos. Turning to Noah, “Do you like Carol’s boots?”
“Yeah, they’re fucking sexy.”
“Bet you want to feel them wrapped around you.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Don’t worry. She won’t be able to resist you by the time I’m done with her.”
Lacey rubs her silky cheek across my thigh and plants a soft kiss so high she must feel the moist heat rising from my pussy. My panties are a scrap of black lace that hide nothing. I brace myself as she showers little kisses on my thighs. She’s going to kiss my cunt, I know she is. God, I want her to. But she’s teasing me and skips right past there and eases my top up to kiss my belly. I’m self-conscious after staring at her perfect body, but Lacey melts that away with her soft, worshipful lips. Her tongue teases my belly piercing, flicking at the jewel there, and she smiles at me with her eyes.
“Very nice. I wouldn’t have guessed. You seem too respectable,” Lacey says.
I struggle, but I manage to find my voice. “Not too respectable to come to a strip club without my husband.”
“Touché. Do your other friends know how much fun you are?”
“Mmm…no. They’d die if they found out.”
“I like it. Only a couple close friends know that I dance. It’s sexy, having a secret life.”
Lacey keeps pushing my top higher, playfully rubbing her soft skin against mine like a kitty scent-marking me. She stops just below my breasts and climbs onto the loveseat, kneeling between my spread thighs. She stares down at me seductively and brushes my hair back with both hands, holding my head like she’s going to kiss me My lips part and my eyes close as she moves in close. The kiss doesn’t come—not on my lips anyway. Lacey nuzzles into my hair, draws her tongue along the rim of my ear. My whole body is on edge. I feel this anticipation, like when I desperately want a man to fuck me. I want Lacey. I know she’s doing her job, but she’s got me on the hook. I’m as seduced as any guy she’s ever had in this loveseat.
“Can I touch you, honey?” Lacey breathes into my ear.
“It’s a little late to ask that.” I laugh.
Her laugh in return is like warm honey
. “I haven’t even started.”
“Ohhh…” I sigh.
Lacey slides her knee between my legs, pressing it right into my pussy. She’s right on target, and I swear I can hear the squish of my labia on her knee, despite the music. Pleasure surges through me and I instinctively push back against her knee, rubbing myself on it.
“Mmm, that’s good Carol, honey. I love feeling how wet I made you,” she coos.
“Ooo…you have no idea…” My voice is shaky.
“Good. I love dancing for you. It’s so much more fun than with the guys who come in here.”
“Yeah?”
My head swims when she nibbles on my neck. I work my hips to get her knee in exactly the right spot, and when it’s perfect, I cry out with a start. It feels so wanton to be grinding on a stripper’s knee in the back of a strip club, but I love it. It’s dirty and sexy and I’m so damned horny. I’m riding the wave of arousal and don’t react when Lacey pulls my top over my breasts. My black push-up bra is heavily padded, making it less fun when she gropes me, but being a girl, she understands that and finds the clasp at my back. What comes next is an advantage of being with a woman. Lacey deftly helps me strip off my bra without taking off my top, pulling it out of my sleeve after some quick maneuvers. I must admit the operation is easier with help. Lacey hands my bra to Noah, who looks like he just won a prize.
Lacey’s hands go right back under my top, finding my breasts and teasing them with a touch only another woman can understand. She starts softly but reads me and keeps going until she’s pinching and rolling my nipples. I’m going crazy, grinding into her knee, and just as I’m right on the edge of climax. Lacey reads that too and pulls her knee back right before I come.
“Not yet, Carol. I’m still having fun with you,” she whispers, nibbling my ear in that maddening way.
“Please,” I gasp.
She laughs and does as she pleases with me. I realize she’s probably drawing this out to get the maximum cash out of Noah. Is this our third or fourth song? At this point I don’t care if he goes broke. I want to come. Lacey’s face hovers in front of mine, watching me as she plays with my tits. My nipples throb from her attention and I stare back at her helplessly. An overwhelming impulse grips me and I kiss her. Lacey slips her tongue into my mouth as if she’s been waiting to do it all night. I’m not going to say it was special because of her soft lips or because she’s a woman. She’s just a damned good kisser, woman or not, and I make out with her like a love-starved teenager. My fingers go through her “hair” and she has to stop me when I pull her wig askew. Lacey moves my hands back to her tits and I attack them with a vengeance, pleased when she moans into my kiss. We’re both moaning, all over each other, and if Noah isn’t enjoying watching this, he’s just not a man!
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