########################################################################

Contains adult themes, consensual sex.  Read at your own risk.

Comments and suggestions welcome.  Flames cheerfully ignored.

Copyright (C) 1995 by Javahead

For personal use only - if you repost, please include this header.

########################################################################

Note:

This is the first one I've written in a few months.  I've had the basic
storyline floating around in the back of my head for some time;  I
finally decided to write it down.  I hope you like it.

I've checked my records, and I haven't reposted any of my earlier
stories since last spring.   I'll be posting them over the next few
days to avoid putting too much of a strain on the anon server.

Javahead

########################################################################

                        "Curiousity"
			     by
			  Javahead

I never thought I'd take my wife to a strip joint.  She knew  I'd
occasionally  gone to them before we met;  a few times she'd even
given me her own version of a strip act while I  told  her  about
what they were like.

But visiting our local club was all Nita's idea -  a  friend  had
mentioned  the  place,  and  she was curious, and would it be too
much trouble to take her to the show?  When she batted her  eyes,
it was too much - as soon as I could quit laughing, I gave in.

***

The  parking  lot  was  crowded;  the  interior,  even  more  so.
Luckily,  most  of  customers  wanted  as  close  to the stage as
possible, so we were able to find a booth  in  one  of  the  back
corners.  Only a few heads turned to follow us as we made our way
in.  Even Nita's presence couldn't hold their attention for  more
than  a  moment; the dancer on stage was toying with her g-string
as the music built to a climax.  A couple of measures later,  the
g-string landed atop the heap of clothes already on the floor.

This dancer was good; as the next song started, she launched into
an  energetic routine.  One minute she was flirting with a man on
one side of the stage; the next,  she  was  doing  a  rapid  spin
around  the  brass  pole mounted at the end of the stage.  As the
third verse of the song neared its end, she lowered herself  into
a  full  split,  leaning back till her long hair brushed her rear
ankle and her breasts pointed to the ceiling.  She held the split
for  a  long count, then flowed back to her feet and began a slow
circle of the stage, collecting tips.  Each man  along  the  rail
got  a  moment  of  her time and a word or two; a few of the more
enthusiastic ones were favored  with  a  wink,  a  breast  passed
tantalizingly close, or bare foot placed lightly on a shoulder.

As the dancer left the stage to  a  loud  round  of  applause,  I
glanced  at  Nita.   Rather than disapproving, or embarrassed, or
anything else I might  have  guessed,  she  appeared  fascinated.
When  she noticed me look at her, she gave me a mischievious grin
before returning her attention to the stage.

The dancer that followed was good, but no match  for  the  first.
Halfway  through  the  set, I noticed the first was out, still in
her (lack of) final costume, dancing in a booth across the  room.
Nita followed my gaze across, and looked puzzled.

"What's she doing over there?  I thought  you  told  me  that  no
touching was allowed, and she's all over him!"

"She's lap-dancing.  He pays her for it, and she  dances  in  his
lap."

"But she's *touching* him!"

"Not with her hands  -  and  he's  letting  *her*  make  all  the
contact.   If  he  were  to put his hands anywhere but her waist,
those two large men over by the bar would escort him out."

After a moment, Nita grinned.  "So it's all under her control?"

"Yes.  As long as she's in control,  and  it's  a  *dance*,  it's
legal.   If  he  gets  to use *his* hands, or she uses *hers* too
close to his crotch, the bar gets shut down for the night and she
gets hauled in for prostitution."

Nita grinned again and shook her head.  An  impish  look  crossed
her face.  "Do you suppose . . ."

***

Since we'd paid for a table dance, the  dancer  ("call  me  Kitty
Delight")  wasn't  all  over  me.  Quite.  Since Nita was sitting
with my arm around her, we were both treated to views as detailed
as  her  doctor  probably  got.   Nita's  presence, surprisingly,
didn't bother the dancer at all, though  she  *did*  look  mildly
curious.  The look Nita returned was much more so.

Nita took the lead.  "Can we offer you a drink?"

"Since no one else wants me to dance ... well, why not?  What  do
you want to talk about?  I was surprised you two called me over -
usually, a couple is all wrapped up in each other."

"I'm sure you've heard this before, but I was curious.  What's it
like being a dancer?"

Rather to my surprise, the two hit it off.   Since  no  one  else
wanted her to dance at the moment, Kitty  seemed happy, and a bit
flattered, to answer  Nita's  questions.   It  helped  that  Nita
sounded  curious, interested, and not at all judgemental.  By the
time the third dancer was on the stage, I might as well have  not
been  present  - the two women's attention was all on each other.
They didn't even look my way when I got up  to  visit  the  men's
room.

Coming back, about the time the fourth dancer left the  stage,  I
saw  Kitty  leaving  our  table  for the dressing room.  As I sat
down, Nita slid a piece of paper  into  a  purse  before  leaning
against me.

"What was that?"

"Just her phone number ... and her real name.   She's  nice  -  I
might want to call her sometime.  I gave her my number, too."

"Real name?"  I must have sounded a bit confused.

Nita raised an eyebrow sardonically.  "Do  you  think  anyone  is
*really*  named  'Kitty Delight'?  I don't blame her.  Who'd want
the publicity in her off-hours?"

***

We watched a while longer.  After two more dancers,  "Kitty"  was
back  on  the stage.  To my eyes, she was by far the most skilled
of the six.  The men surrounding the stage seemed to agree -  her
tips  were  much  larger than they'd given any of the others, and
she was doing her third straight lap dance when we left.

Nita was bubbling over as we drove  home,  reporting  the  things
Kitty had told her about dancing, and working conditions, and the
pay, and ...  I was not at all surprised when she dragged me into
the bedroom as soon as we reached home.

***

Voicemail is a mixed blessing - people  can  leave  messages  for
you,  but  you can't ask them any questions.  And Nita's message,
though clear, left far more questions than answers.

"Hon,  I've  been  talking  to   Kitty,   and   heard   something
interesting.   Be  at  the  club at 9 PM tonight.  Sit at the tip
rail.  I'll meet you there, but I might be a little  late.   Love
you, honey."

Fortunately, it was already after 5, so I didn't have too long to
wonder  what  Nita  had  planned.   Rather than go home, I worked
another couple of hours before leaving for dinner.  I  pulled  up
outside the club only a few minutes early.

***

Since it was a Friday night, the parking lot was a zoo.  Somehow,
I managed to find a parking place and headed inside.  Even though
the interior was packed, enough people were sitting in the booths
that  there were still a couple of seats open at the tip rail.  I
claimed one of them just as the next dancer came  on.   I  wasn't
too surprised to find it was Kitty.

Though she was just as skillful as I remembered, her  act  hadn't
changed.   Still,  I  enjoyed it, and gave her a generous tip.  I
got several envious stares from other patrons when she stopped to
talk with me on the way out.

Even  though  it  was  live,  our  conversation  was   about   as
informative as Nita's message had been.

"Where's Nita?", I started out.

"She'll be here in a couple of minutes.  I asked  her  to  do  me
favor."

"What-"

"Oops!  Sorry, I've got to run.  Later!"

I shrugged.  I'd just ask Nita when she showed up.  It was only a
couple  of minutes, and Nita's usually punctual.  I took a sip of
my drink and tried to be patient.

Just as the clock on the wall pointed to 9 PM,  the  next  dancer
was  announced.   I  was  distracted enough to miss the first few
words of the introduction, but I caught most of it.

"...a young lady dancing here  for  the  first  time.   From  the
exotic reaches of the Far East, please welcome *Jasmine*!"

I grinned as things started to fall into place.  The longer  Nita
and I've been together, the more I've been attracted to women who
resemble her.  Kitty must have told her about the new dancer, and
she  wanted  to  see my reaction.  Knowing Nita, she was probably
watching me through the security camera or  from  a  gap  in  the
curtain leading to the dressing room.

No, not the dressing room - the curtain swung wide for  a  moment
as Jasmine came on stage.  I shifted my attention and watched her
come on stage.

Even though the little of her face that I could see  looked  east
Asian,  her  costume  looked more like something from the Arabian
Nights, hinting at a slender figure underneath without putting it
on display.  Even the veil didn't seem out of place.

It might have been her first night here, but she  certainly  knew
what she was doing - she was nearly as skillful as Kitty.  Though
she'd shed the long outer cloak at the  beginning  of  the  first
song, it took her till the end of the second to work her way down
to a silken loincloth and  an  oversized  scarf  tied  round  her
breasts.   Amazingly,  she still wore the veil.  My earlier guess
at a slender figure was confirmed.  With her veil in  place,  she
was nearly Nita's twin.

The feeling grew even stronger as the scarf drifted to the floor.
Her small breasts were capped with dark gumdrop nipples just like
- Nita's!  She must have been  watching  my  face  carefully;   a
moment  later  she lifted the veil long enough to give me a grin,
but it only confirmed what I already knew.  My  wife  -  my  shy,
easily embarrassed wife - was the featured dancer.  More, she was
*good* at it.

Somehow, I brought my face back under control, and even  returned
her  grin,  but  my  thoughts  were  still a tangled mess.  Was I
upset, or angry?  To my surprise,  no.   Confused,  curious,  and
even  -  admit  it!  - aroused, but not upset.  I settled down to
enjoy the rest of her dance.  She *was* good, and she made sure I
knew it.

She was directly in front of me when her hand slid  to  the  knot
holding  her  loincloth in place and teased at it.  Her eyes were
questioning.  I doubt if anyone else even noticed my slight  nod;
a  moment later the knot came undone and the loincloth, too, slid
to the floor.  I'll admit that I gaped like everyone  else  -  we
had reason.

I've always told Nita that she has one of the  loveliest  pussies
in  the world, as well formed and delicately colored as a flower.
Apparently, the rest of the men agreed with me.  We  all  had  an
excellent  view  -  sometime today she had shaved herself smooth.
Combined with the veil she still wore,  it  made  her  even  more
naked and vulnerable.

After a pause to let us all catch our breath, her  dance  resumed
at  a  faster  pace.  Her technique on the pole was amazing - she
spun about it so fast that her long hair flew behind her  like  a
silky  flag.   And  when the song reached its end she slid into a
split nearly as deep as Kitty had managed.

The applause was thunderous, and  the  tippers  enthusiastic.   I
slid  a  ten dollar bill over the rail and waited for her to work
her way around to me.

Her eyes widened when she saw the size of my tip, and she  placed
a  bare  foot  on  my shoulder as she bent over to thank me.  The
motion spread her inner  lips  slightly;   I  got  a  glimpse  of
glistening  pink  and  a whiff of musk.  Apparently, I wasn't the
only one aroused by her dance.

Her voice was steady, though. "Go claim that far corner booth and
buy  a lap dance ticket.  I'll be out in a few minutes and we can
talk while I dance for you."

***

Ticket in hand, I slid into the  booth.   As  soon  as  the  next
dancer  took  the  stage,  Nita left the dressing room and headed
towards me.  Despite her advance warning, it threw  me  slightly.
She  was  still dressed - undressed? - as she had been at the end
of her last song.   Even with a new dancer on  stage,  and  Kitty
lap-dancing across the room, several heads turned as she went by.

Though she slid into my lap boldly enough, I suspected  that  she
was  nervous.   I  gave her my most reassuring grin; it must have
worked, because she lowered her veil and  started  dancing  along
with  the  music.   Though not as polished as her stage show, her
lap dance showed a certain amount of professionalism.

"Are you angry with me?"  Contradicting her bold front, her voice
was small and frightened.

"No.  Surprised, a little shocked.  Confused most of all.  What's
going on here?  How long have you been planning it?"

"I didn't.  Not till today, anyhow.   You know how I got  Kitty's
phone  number?  And you know how much it turns you on when I play
stripper for you?  I had asked her if she would give me  lessons.
For  the  last  few  weeks,  I've  been  practicing with her most
mornings."

Though she'd sounded more confident  at  first,  her  voice  grew
smaller and smaller as she went on.  It would only take one wrong
remark to hurt her.  I cautiously picked my  next  words,  trying
for a light tone.

"And today?"  Thankfully, I sounded amused.

"The manager called while I was at her place.  He was in a  panic
-  three  of  the girls had gone up to the mountains for the day,
and had their car break down.  They couldn't get back in  time  -
and  he  already  had one girl off this weekend to visit her mom.
He asked Kitty if she knew anyone who could fill  in  -  if  they
couldn't  find  *someone*,  they'd  have  only  two girls for the
evening shift."

"And you volunteered?"

"And I *was* volunteered!  I didn't know whether to strangle  her
or die of fright when she gave him my name!"

"But you're here, sweetheart.  How'd she talk you into it?"

"When she pointed  out  that  I  looked  as  *horny*  as  it  did
*scared!"  She  emphasized  her  point by grinding her groin into
mine. "You, too, it feels like." I've always loved her laugh.

I ran an eye down her body.  Going by her swollen nipples and the
way  she  was  rubbing  her  mound against me, she wasn't kidding
about feeling aroused.

"Planning on changing careers?" I wasn't sure if I  could  handle
*that*, and my voice must have shown it.

"No!  Just till closing tonight.  Can you cope with  that?"   She
sounded almost pleading.

"For tonight."  I laughed at my own eagerness.  "Dance up a storm
- I'll be your biggest fan."

"Will you be jealous if I lap dance for someone else?  I had  two
men ask for me on the way over here."

"As long as you come home with me, it'll just turn me on more."

She gave me an impish grin.  "Me, too! Love you,  darling!"   She
raised her veil and slid from my lap as the song ended.

***

I didn't get another chance to talk to her for the  rest  of  the
evening.  With  only three dancers instead of the usual six, they
were only off stage for twenty minutes at a time - and she hadn't
been joking about men wanting her to dance for them.

Since my tip rail seat had been taken, I  stayed  in  the  booth.
From  here,  I  could  watch  the crowd as well as the dancers on
stage.  I was impressed  -  she  danced  as  professionally,  and
nearly as athletically, as Kitty.  And now that she wasn't afraid
of making me jealous, she flirted just as skillfully, too.

I was pleased, and flattered, when I realized that she was really
playing  for  an  audience of one: me. Her most dramatic moves on
stage, and her most enthusiastic lap dances, were angled to  give
me a clear view.  With the short off-stage times, the dancers had
their pick of several offers for each lap  or  table  dance  they
could  do.   Somehow,  all of the ones she accepted were close to
where I was sitting.

That isn't to say that she was cheating her customers, though; if
anything, my presence seemed to spur her on.  Several even headed
to the men's room afterward; I wasn't certain whether it was to -
um  - relieve themselves or to clean up.  I could understand why;
if I had been any more aroused, *I* would have  needed  to  clean
up.

***

As closing time neared, the crowd thinned slightly. I was able to
reclaim  my seat along the tip rail.  Up close, I could tell that
short rest time was beginning to tell  on  the  dancers.   Though
they  were  dancing  as  energetically  as  ever,  even Kitty was
covered by a thin sheen of  sweat,  while  Nita  gleamed  like  a
polished  bronze  statue.   I  was  nearly  as impressed with her
endurance as the blatant sexuality of her dance.

Finally, the last set was announced.  Rather than continuing  the
rotation,  all three dancers bounded from the dressing room - and
they were already nude.  They seemed determined to end on a  high
note   -   they  threw  everything  they  had  into  their  final
performance.  By the end of their dance, I was  amazed  they  had
enough energy left to stand.

I split my remaining cash three  ways,  giving  each  of  them  a
healthy  tip.  Kitty  and "Jasmine" must have told the third girl
who I was - all three had given me far more than my fair share of
attention.  I felt amply repaid when the trio hugged me in thanks
- and was distracted enough I almost didn't hear Nita's whispered
"Wait for me at the bar."

***

Now that the  dancers  were  gone,  the  crowd  thinned  rapidly.
Though it couldn't have been much more than twenty minutes, I was
the only customer left by the time Nita came out of the  dressing
room.

Though she'd changed into a short sundress, she hadn't been  able
to  shower  - as she came closer I could smell a mixture of fresh
sweat and musky woman.  I could see part of  her  costume  poking
from the top of her handbag.

Short as the wait had been, I was nearly  blind  with  frustrated
lust.  After her performance, my only coherent thought was to get
her home *now*.  Thankfully, she seemed  impatient  as  I  -  she
nearly dragged me to the door.

"What took you so long?"

"Waiting to get my pay from the manager.  Where's the van?  Kitty
brought me in so that I could ride home with you."

She ran ahead of me the last few steps; by the time I got  there,
she  had  the  rear passenger door open and was climbing in.  She
was sliding the sundress off before I had the door  all  the  way
closed.  It was all she had on.

Her urgency was raw, animal.  As soon as I had my pants down, she
pushed me onto my back and mounted me.  She was slick enough that
her first thrust buried me within  her  hilt-deep,  grinding  her
bald  pussy  against my pubic bone.  She held my hands so tightly
on her bare breasts that I half-expected her to be bruised.   Not
that  either  of  us  cared, at this point.  Finesse, gentleness,
caution were all irrelevant.  This wasn't lovemaking -  this  was
fucking, plain and simple.

In the darkness of the parking lot, the smoked glass windows gave
adequate  privacy.   Not  that  it  mattered, really;  by now, we
wouldn't have noticed  a  standing-room-only  audience.   And  if
there  had  been  anyone  close  enough to notice how the van was
moving, we would have had one.  We both  lost  ourselves  in  the
moment, the familiar textures, scents, and sounds of sex.

I whimpered; despite my best efforts to hold back, I  could  feel
my orgasm nearing.  A moment later, it overwhelmed me.  It seemed
to be all that Nita needed to send her over the edge  -  I  heard
her  scream as she ground her cunt against me a final time before
collapsing.

***

Neither one of us spoke much for the first few miles of the drive
home.  Finally,  though,  Nita recovered enough to start counting
her tips for the night.  I chuckled when I heard a gasp.

"How much?"

"Three hundred something - almost  four  hundred  dollars."   She
sounded amazed.  "They must have liked me."

"Thinking of taking it up full time?"

"It's tempting, isn't it?  But I don't think so.  I was nearly as
scared  as I was turned on out there - I don't think I could have
managed it without the veil."

I laughed.  "You must have been *really* scared, then!"

"Mmm.  Yes."  She giggled.  "But I intend to keep on practicing."

"That's fine, but why?"

"Don't you remember?  I still owe you a *private* performance."
