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Horny Stripper

I heard my song blasting in the background and started to strut down the stage. To tell you the truth, being a stripper is exciting at first, but I’ve been doing the same routine for almost a year, 4 nights a week. It’s getting kind of boring. Sure being watched by hundreds of men still gives me the thrill, I simply love showing off my body. I love it when they get wide eyed as I spread my legs or squat with my knees spread wide right in front of their noses with only a g-string or a crotchless g-string running between my waxed and wet pussy lips and my swollen clit. It is one of my favourite dance moves.

Another thing I love to show off is my pasties collection. They are small strips of materials cut into shapes and pasted onto the skin with latex glue. They came in lots of colours and shapes. Black, blue, white, American flag coloured, sequined, red, purple, with diamante, crystals, velvet, even nipple-less and one with tassels! You name it they’ve got it! Ones for the nipples are pretty simple to use, you just put a small amount of latex glue, stick it and you’re ready to go, while the one for the pussy is a bit more tedious. First I have to wax off everything, because I hate it when the pastie doesn’t stick properly and I made sure my pussy is absolutely dry.

I used to have a problem when I first started being a stripper, because although I’m as dry as nail when I started my shtick, after two minutes of shedding my clothes, grinding the pole and watching those hungry eyes, I couldn’t help getting wet and horny as hell. What I usually do is, I searched for a ‘more’ decent looking guy in my audience and locked eye contact with him. For the rest of my performance I’d be looking mostly at him. Then after I’m finished, I’d tell the bouncer to give the man a message and tell him to get into the changing room. We would usually go his or my place. I know this sounds dangerous but the thrill of not knowing what’s going to happen makes me even more excited.

Sadly this doesn’t happen very often anymore because as I told you I’m beginning to get bored with the whole routine.

One very late night when the joint was about to close, I was the last one to stay and dance. The other dancers have gone home and for some reason I was horny and as a result I couldn’t stop rubbing my clit before going to the stage. I know I would most probably have to fuck one of my audiences again after so long. I even had a problem sticking the pastie for my pussy as I was so wet, but after several messy attempts, I finally succeeded. This time I used the plain, red sequined pasties. I love the way they glitter under the lights and the colour is such a contrast with my fair skin.

The nipple pasties are round and the one for my pussy is triangular. Almost like the front part of a thong. It covered the front part of my pussy mound and disappears into my crack. When I walk the sequins rubs against my thighs making it tickles, when I squat down, the glue seemed to pull the skin around it real tight.
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Katie At The Strip Club

My wife Katie and her friends had made few trips to the male strip club over the years. Once for a 40th birthday party, once for a bachelorette party and stuff like that. I usually would stay up and wait for her and we would fuck like rabbits when she got home. With this not being a regular occurrence, I never really thought anything of it, other than our fuck sessions were usually a little more aggressive.

One of her best friends got promoted at her work and was getting transferred to another state. Just so happened that the strip club had some special all male show coming up, so the girls planned their only gig this year. As there were prepping and planning I would hear them giggle and say things that I couldn’t hear. They must have been remembering some previous trips as they seemed a little extra excited with this one.

A couple days later, some of the girls and husbands came over for the Sunday football games. We guys got to talking about the girls upcoming trip and I said that I wouldn’t mind being a fly on the wall at the club on strip night.

Dan turned and said “All you have to do is call and tell them you want the husband special.”

“The husband special? What’s that?” I asked.

“Well, if you want to be a fly on the wall, that’s almost what you’ll be.” One of them replied.

“Trust me; YOU will get more for your money than THEY will. Just be prepared because some things you see may surprise you.”

They both laughed and I wondered what that meant but was afraid to ask. My mind roamed trying to think of what I might see, but I guess I will just have to give it a shot and find out first hand. Strip night came up very fast and Katie was busy getting dressed and prepped. She did not wear anything special, just some tight jeans and a v-neck pull over sweater. Sure the sweater was a little tight, but that’s the kind of stuff she wore all the time.

The girls all met at our house and left for the club. Katie volunteered to be the designated driver as she was not planning to drink that night. All the girls looked very hot, and have a broad array of outfits. They are all wearing sexy tight stuff and my eyes are enjoying the sight. (more…)

The Lap Dance

“I’m off to work!”

I was laying across my bed reading a book and listening to music when my roommate and friend, LaDonna, peeked into my room. “Ok, girl,” I said, looking up briefly from the page that I was reading. “Make me a lot of money,” I joked, though I already knew that she would. She had recently gotten a job as a waitress a little over a month before and had been bringing in good money since she had started. I was glad for her AND myself because she was now able to be on time with her share of the bills.

Fortunately, the bills weren’t too bad. We lived rent free in a nice 4- bedroom Victorian style house that my grandmother had left me when she passed away. The bills weren’t too bad, so we always managed. I let Donna move in with me so that she could get on her feet after her husband of one whole year left her high and dry (he even took the car that she had paid for with her income tax money!). She had been working different odd jobs and temp jobs to do her share and I knew it wasn’t easy, so I didn’t bug her much about it. As long as she was trying to help I didn’t care, especially since she helped me do some minor renovating on the place. After all she was my friend and I didn’t have the heart to be a bitch about a few extra dollars on the bills.

But on with the tale….

Where was I? OH!………

“Make me a lot of money.”

“Only for you, Chelly Belly,” she joked back, calling me by the nickname that used to drive me nuts. She shifted the black duffle bag that she carried from one shoulder to the other.

“Is your ride here already?” I asked, forever playing the surrogate mother in spite of the fact that she was actually older than me by a few months.

“Yes, dear,” she said with a smile. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay,” I told her. “You be careful. You know I’m not too crazy about this whole ‘night shift’ thing you got going.”

“I’m safe,” she told me for the umpteenth time. “You worry too much.”

“I know, but I’m so good at it.”

She smiled a little bit, before turning to head downstairs to leave. I look out of my patio door and watched her climb into a car with so much bass booming from it, that I could only imagine how pissed the neighbors were for having to hear it at 9:30 at night.

I shook my head with a small smile and went downstairs to fix myself a bowl of ice cream to enjoy while I continued my Saturday night routine of reading and listening to some soft music.

Boring, you think? Maybe… but after being something of a wild teenager growing up (unbeknownst to my family) all I desired on most nights was simply to relax after a day of working. But I digress…

At the tender age of 25, I already considered myself middle- aged. I own a home (thanks to Granny), a nice SUV, managed a boutique with awesome clientele and was doing a little real estate on the side. I was doing better than a lot of people twice my age. But do you really care about that stuff. I’m sure you are wondering about how I look, right?

Well, I’m about 5’5″… caramel hued skin… grey eyes that most believe are contact lenses (but they’re real… really they are!)… shoulder length dark brown hair( a little overdue for a deep conditioning, but it’s okay)… a decent pair of boobies if you like a C-cup… I have a very slight pudge around the belly area that I can’t seem to get rid of no matter how much I work out (it could be the eating ice cream late a night…), but it is not horrendous or anything like that…

My blessing and curse is my butt. It is a Certified Grade A Ghetto Booty. An authentic Ka-Dunk-A-Dunk! I hated it in school because it was often the topic of conversation with the fellas, but I learned to deal with it. Sometimes I used to my advantage. It was also the cause of me getting put out of the clubs for fighting in my wilder days. Grabbing my ass was a bad idea, but most guys didn’t realize it until it was too late….

Anyway, there’s a little background info on me… I’m sure that you are curious about LaDonna as well…
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