The Erotica of Al X : Tom's Wife - Episode 1
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Standard Disclaimer: This story contains sexually graphic and explicit material.
It is NOT suitable for minors.
If you are a minor, LEAVE NOW as it is illegal for you to be here.
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in your community, LEAVE NOW.
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This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to
events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental.
These stories are pure fiction and do not promote or condone the
activities described herein, especially when it comes to unsafe
sexual practices or sex between adults and minors.
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Summary: After Tom's wife finds out he's been to a strip club, she gives him a show of her own.
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"She's No Stripper"
by Al X
Tuesday night, 10 PM, and here he was sneaking into his own house, smelling of perfume and baby powder, the smells of Bambi and Kristal and Jade and the other dancers at the local strip club. His wife, Gail, was on the sofa working on her laptop, still in her blouse and slacks from work. She barely looked up from her work as they exchanged quick hellos. "Where have you been?" she asked,
"Had a beer with Jerry and some of his friends," he lied. "I'm gonna take a quick shower; Jerry's place was full of cigarette smoke."
"You do that." She picked up a legal tablet, scanned some notes, then resumed typing on her laptop. "Did you have fun?"
There was something about her tone that struck him as strange, as if she suspected where he had been. He didn't look at her as he answered. "It was OK." And then he was out of the room. Heading up the steps he smelled his shirt and got a whiff of strong perfume; he hoped it didn't permeate the house. In the bedroom he stripped down, burying his clothes in the half-full hamper. In the bathroom he sat on the toilet and held his now flaccid penis.
He had been so hard in the strip club, watching the women in their thongs and fishnet stockings, their lace bras and miniskirts. After their dances the girls made their way through the crowd, sitting in the men's laps looking for dollar bills. The pretty blond in see-through panties rubbed her round ass against his groin. The chunky brunette in thigh-high stockings pushed his head against her chest, pressing his face into her black silk bra. They all looked so sexy, so slutty, so trashy. God, they turned him on.
His wife was pretty, still in good shape and a stylish dresser. But her style was so professional. Even her underwear was - she usually wore expensive full bottom panties and rarely the sexy thongs he had bought her. Most nights she came to bed in stiff pajamas; they looked great, but they weren't sexy. And on the nights they were going to have sex, she stripped out of her PJ's and slipped into bed naked.
Standing up he started stroking himself, but it was unable to get fully hard. He was too distracted thinking about Gail, feeling guilty for sneaking to the club. He was standing there with his cock in his hand when the bathroom door burst open.
"You bastard!" Gail stood with her hands on her hips. "It's true. Isn't it?"
For a second he thought about lying, then opted for silence instead.
"I drove past the club. I saw your car there." She shook her head. "And you were there before, weren't you? Carla told me. I didn't want to believe you'd go to a place like that but…" She had her fists clenched as she stomped across the room. When she was right in front of him she took a deep breath. "You smell like a whore."
"I'm sorry," was all he could say.
"Screw you." She shook her head and stormed out of the bathroom.
He waited in the bathroom listening to her heavy footsteps in the bedroom, then heard the bedroom door slam shut. He stared at himself in the sink mirror, and cursed himself for getting caught. In the bedroom he threw on sweatpants and a tee-shirt, then sat on the bed, giving Gail time to cool off.
When he finally went downstairs, he found her curled up on the sofa. Her initial aanger seemed to have subsided. "Tell me - why do you need to go to a place like that?"
"It's not that bad. I didn't have sex. The girls just dance, they don't fuck you. I just went to look."
"You're not happy with me? You don't find me pretty? Sexy?" She sounded hurt.
"No, it's nothing like that. You look great. You're so pretty. It's just…" He struggled for the right words. He made his way to the sofa, and when she moved her feet to give him room, he sat down. "Those girls dress slutty. And they wear sexy thongs and stockings, and I guess I have fetish for that kind of thing."
He looked down at the floor, then spent a few minutes discussing his fetish, the things that turned him on, his secret desires. When he finished there was an awkward silence. He watched as Gail slowly sat up, unsure if she as still angry or upset.. "I need some time to think about this," she said as she walked out the room and up the stairs."
He got a beer and turned on the TV, but his thoughts were too jumbled to focus. A half later Gail called him upstairs. The room was dimly lit. The bathroom door was closed. "I'm here," he said as he sat on the bed. He sat and waited, and a few minutes later the bathroom door opened.
Gail stood in the doorway looking sexier than he could ever remember. She was heavily made up - blood red lipstick, and thick mascara and eyeliner. She was wearing her old black minidress; she had outgrown it years ago so now it was skin tight. Her legs were covered with sexy black nylons, and her feet were tucked into high heels. Even from the bed he could smell her strong perfume.
"So," she said with a wicked grin, "do you think I could get a job at that club?"
He was in awe. She looked better than any of the strippers, and he already felt stirrings in his groin.
She took two steps into the room, and spun around, showing off her body and her outfit. "A nasty girl like me? Do you think they would hire me?"
He just nodded, afraid to say anything that might break the mood. He watched as she ran her hands over her belly and over her breasts, pulling the dress taut. Her nipples pointed straight out. He was mesmerized. She lowered one hand to grab the bottom of her dress, and lifted it a few inches to reveal the bare flesh of her thighs. She was wearing thigh highs and a black satin thong. When he looked back up at her face, he saw she was smiling. But there was an odd coolness about her. It wasn't like she was angry. It was almost like she had become somebody else.
She moved to the dresser to turn on their CD player/radio. As she fiddled with buttons, he took in the sight of her ass in that tight dress. She looked so hot. He waited as music began to play - an old disco CD - and as the music filled the room, her body began to move, tentatively at first. He watched her hips sway, her shoulders too. She was starting to get into it, and soon she turned around to face him.
"So stranger, do you come here often?" She danced towards him, doing two twirls, rubbing her breasts, licking her lips, looking like a hot sexy slut in need of a good fucking. She kept staring into his eyes, and he was getting hotter. "My name's Cashmere. Do you like me?"
"You look fantastic."
"You haven't seen anything yet." She turned around. She grabbed the dress at her shoulders and began to pull it up. It was like watching a curtain rise, and soon he saw the tops of her stockings, her naked thighs, her ass cheeks bunched around a black thong. When she turned around, she showed off the front of her thong. One hand held the dress up, with the other hand she reached down to rub herself. She looked hard into his eyes. "Do you like what you see?"
"Yeah."
"Does it get you hard to see me dance?"
He placed his hand in his crotch, showing off his erection popping up in his sweatpants.
"It's OK to touch yourself," she said, still rubbing herself. "I don't mind."
And so he rubbed the tip of his cock through the pants. He couldn't believe how hard he was. And then she moved closer to him, placing her fingers right in front of his nose. The smell of her cunt was strong - she must have been fingering herself before! She then ran them over his lips. He reached for her arm to pull her close to him, but she pulled away.
"No, no, no.. It's time for the show!" She skipped over to the corner of the room and picked up the low-armed chair she sometimes read in. She positioned it the center of the room, facing. The CD changed tracks, an even faster disco tune, and she leaned onto the chair with her back to her husband. She leaned forward so that her ass was sticking out towards him, and wiggled her hips and shook her ass. Then she spun around and sat in the chair, directly facing him. With slow graceful movements, she spread her legs and lifted up her skirt. "Do you like looking at my thong?"
He smiled broadly at this upskirt view of his wife, and watched as she ran her hands along the inside of her thighs. "And what about my stockings? Do these turn you on too?"
All he could do was nod. And stare - he watched as her hands went higher, all the way in her groin. One hand grabbed the thong, teasing him, and then she pulled it aside to display her shiny shaved pussy. With her other hand she grazed her pussy lips with her forefinger. "My cunt is so lonely," she said with a devilish smile. "It needs someone to play with it." Her finger parted the lips, then she inserted her middle finger, deep inside her. The looked into his eyes and spoke a single command: "Come."
He slid off the bed and onto his knees. He moved closer to her and was soon kneeling before her. He placed his hands on her knees and waited for her to remove her finger. When she placed it at his mouth, he sucked it in, ands he moved it in and out of his mouth. But she needed more. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him closer, pushing his face into her crotch. Her legs were spread wide and he had full access to her damp pussy. He stuck out his tongue and licked her slit up and down. Each time slipping his tongue a little deeper into her.
"Eat my pussy," she ordered, and he dipped his tongue deep inside her, thrusting it in and out, moving his head in a circular motion. He wiped her pussy walls with his tongue then moved up to lick her clitoris. As he devoted his attention to her clit, she ordered him" "Finger me. Stick your fingers inside me and fuck me." He gladly obeyed. He fingered and sucked her to an orgasm, and when she finished she pushed him away.
He stood up before her, his hard-on raging, the bulge in his sweatpants looking like it was going to burst through the fabric. He wanted nothing more than to fuck her then and there, but she had other ideas. She leaned backed in the chair and lifted her legs until her feet landed on his crotch. She massaged his cock with her feet. "You treated Cashmere real good. And now it's time for Cashmere to treat you real good. Would you like a lap dance? Would you like me to sit in your lap so you can feel my ass rubbing up and down on your hard cock?"
Did he ever! He extended his arm and when she took his hand he pulled her out of the chair. She kissed him on the lips as she spun his body around, until he was standing in front of the chair. She lifted her arms. "Take off my dress," she commanded. He needed little encouragement, and soon her dress was ripped off and tossed on the floor. He reached to caress her breasts in the black lace bra, and they shared another kiss. She stuck her tongue deep in his mouth. Soon he felt her gently pushing him backwards, into the chair.
When he was seated, she stood with her back to him, then slowly leaned forward, until her hands were on the floor. She looked up at him through her legs. He stared at the thong stuck in her crack, then reached over to caress her ass.
Then she got back up, turned around, and straddled him, her legs kneeling on the chair, her groin pressed against his. He continued to fondle her tits, and they kept kissing, all the while she grinded herself into his groin. "You're so hard," she told him. "I can't wait to get that fat cock of yours inside me."
He moved his hands to her back, then slid them down to grope her ass. He massaged her cheeks, spreading them apart, then squeezing them together. He could feel pre-cum in his underwear, and wondered how long he could last like this.
Then she pushed her self off him, and turned around. As she leaned over, she shoved her ass towards him, until it landed in his groin. Lifting herself up, she was able to jerk him off with his ass. She grinded her cheeks back and forth, rotating her hips, getting him hotter, harder, more excited.
"Do you like my dance?" she asked. She sat straight up, then leaned back, so she was resting her back against his chest. She took his hands and placed them on her breasts. "Does it get you hot?"
"I can't wait to fuck you."
"I'm just a dancer," she said coyly. "We girls are just here to dance, not fuck." Then she rotated her body so she was facing him. She moved her head next to his so her mouth was by his ear. She hand one hand in his crotch, slipping under the waistband of his sweatpants and feeling his cock. "I can suck you, though. Would you like?" She lowered her head and nibbled on his neck. "Would you like to feel your cock inside my mouth?" And then she moved lower, until she was on her knees, fishing his cock out of his pants.
He placed his hands on the back of her head as her lips found the tip of his cock. She licked the head, tickling it, nibbling it, while her hands stroked it up and down. And then she went at it, opening her mouth and sucking him in fully. She gave excellent head, and tonight she was at her best. One hand massaged his balls, while her head went up and down, taking him in and out.
"That feels so good, Gail - uh, Cashmere." He began to move his hips in rhythm to her sucking. "And you're so hot. So sexy."
She gave his dick a long slurp. "Do you like the way I'm dressed."
"You look incredible in those stockings."
"I want you to cum on my stockings. Would you like that? Would you like shoot you're hot cum all over them."
He wanted to cum in her mouth, but she was already moving away from him, and pulling him out of the chair. She fell into the chair and kicked off her high heels, then showed him her long legs covered in black nylon. He stood before her, and she placed both nylon-covered feet around his cock - it was a great sensation. "I want you to jerk off on my slutty nylons. Now." Then she crossed her legs.
He took his cock in his hands and began to stroke it. She offered words of encouragement: "Cum for me baby. Jerk that big cock of yours and cum on my nylons. Don't they turn you on?" And as he got close, he leaned forward and rubbed the tip of his cock against the cool fabric, all the while stroking himself. She reached up and put her arms on his shoulders. "Cum for me, baby," she ordered, and he did, he spurted out two big globs of cum on her nylon-covered thigh, then rubbed his milky cock along her other leg.
And then he was frozen in time. The music kept playing the same beat. His breathing was heavy, his head was clearing. He leaned down and gave his wife a long, hard kiss. When they broke the kiss, he thanked her. "That was incredible. YOU are incredible."
"As good as the dancers at the club?"
"So much better. In every way." And he was filled with an overpowering love for this women, so glad he had married her, so content with everything. "I love you so much." He kissed her again. "Let's go to bed. I want to kiss you all over."
"Even my pussy?" she joked.
"ESPECIALLY your pussy." He took off his shirt and threw it on the floor, then kicked off his pants. After he took off his underwear he used it to wipe his cock. After he helped her up, he unmade the bed and slip under the sheets. He watched as she removed her lingerie - her stockings, her bra, her thong - and laid them out on the chair. Then she joined him in bed.
"I'm sorry I went to the club. And I'm glad you're not still mad."
"Just don't go there again," she said in an overly stern voice. But then she smiled and added: "At least not without me!"
THE END
Written during January, 2007 / Revised January 23, 2007
The author welcomes your comments and suggestions for future stories.
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