Chapter 75: Conception. Special Club Performances

Mark

Elsa and I hadn’t just made love; I’d fertilized her egg with my sperm. The essence of my being, my family, and my heritage had merged with hers to create a life. She knew with certainty that we’d done the deed that night. As we’d finished and I’d filled her vagina with my spend, her eyes got large after we kissed. She whispered, “I love you, daddy,” and then she cried with joy so I felt her tears on my chest as we lay in bed cuddling. She whispered, “We did it. That was ‘it.’”

I was skeptical. We’d decided at dinner that night to get serious. She showed me a calendar on her iPhone and exactly fourteen days had passed since she’d stopped the pill. She’d had her normal period and this was our first serious try at fertilization. No one got pregnant on their first serious try, except by accident when they were teenagers and just starting to experiment with sex. I was proven wrong.

I came home from work one night in late January, and Elsa was there with some of her sisters. They were all grinning – more so than usual. Elsa alone came to greet me. Unusual. She said in a cheery voice, “Welcome home, daddy.”

I grinned at her, “You’re sure?”

“Very sure. I’m six weeks along. We did it that night I told you I knew. I’m due September tenth at two-thirty-six in the afternoon.”

I pulled away and looked at her in shock, “They can’t tell the birth time that accurately?” Even as I posed my serious question I knew I was being played. I heard a lot of laughter at my expense from the others scattered throughout the living room.

Elsa laughed and poked at me, “Of course not, silly. I’m just teasing, and that’s just my wistful thinking. That happened to be the time of day that I was born.”

“Shouldn’t you be sitting down or something? Don’t you have to be careful?”

Elsa put her hands on her hips, “I just finished forty minutes running on the treadmill down in the gym. I did weights too as well as ab crunches. I’m supposed to stay in shape. I need to practice squatting and maintain my core muscles, so more sit-ups again until junior complains. Doctor’s orders.”

“But none of your jiu jitsu classes where you get thrown onto the mat? No urban survival?” I posed expecting that rough play should be avoided.

“Wrong,” Elsa protested. “I can do all that stuff so long as I’m comfortable. When I start to have a real baby bump I’ll have to go easy on the bump or I’ll jar junior out early, but anything goes. I can jog; do yoga, all of my regular exercises, shoot, and martial arts. I can even fly until mid-August, preferably at lower altitudes or in a pressurized plane. I can even have wild and unabated sex up until I have to go into the delivery room. Fucking is considered a beneficial experience for the expectant mother, especially by the baby daddy, and I am totally serious; that’s what the OB/GYN said. There’s even a school of thought that says that baby daddy sperm in the vagina helps the baby’s immune system and the birth process.”

I looked skeptically at her but she seemed serious. I’d had conservative parents that passed on to me old school norms of how an expectant mother needed to be treated. I was learning some more modern ways of thinking.

I asked, “Do we know the sex of the baby?”

Elsa shook her head. “Not yet. We’ll do some kind of test in a few months and maybe have a reveal party.”

“A reveal party?” I asked.

“The doctor will give me a sealed envelope with the sex in it on a card. We take it to a caterer, and without any of us knowing the baker does a special cake with either a pink or baby blue interior cake. It’s all covered over with white icing so no one knows until we cut into the cake at a special party.”

“Do we have names?”

“You and me do that, although I have about five hundred suggestions from my sisters so far today. Some are very funny. Do you like ‘Willing Wendy Worthington’ as a girl’s name?”

On that note there were gales of laughter from deeper in the living room. I laughed too. I could see that all of my wives were fully invested in the baby, and even the usual crew of guys who sat around in my living room.

After my welcome home, I saw most of the group were having some wine. Elsa was drinking diet ginger ale. I got a glass and was standing there. Cindy told me, “We’re going out to dinner to celebrate the official announcement of my sister’s delicate condition.”

“Fine, except she just assured me that she is not delicate or to be treated as such.”

Cindy laughed, “True, that. We did a little martial arts earlier today.”

Elsa joined us and kissed me again. “Hi, daddy.”

I smiled, “Softening me up, huh?”

“Right. It’s a condition you’ll never shed for the rest of your life.”

The Grand Opening was a success, but it was the traffic over the next two weeks that we monitored closely. Stacy’s aggressive ad campaign had reached out five hundred miles in a large circle centered on the club. She’d negotiated special Club Infinity rates at local motels, providing the patrons showed their membership cards. By the end of the first week, we’d ‘sold’ six hundred memberships, and more were coming in every day. Stacy and Lee hired some temporary help to process the applications.

Stacy had also hired a PR company, and they worked up some coupons and giveaways to encourage attendance, purchase of full meals, bottles of wine, and ‘bring a friend’ memberships. By New Years the club had over a thousand members, and the place was booked out for dinners, and a risqué champagne evening to welcome in the New Year.

That first month we were at the Club almost every night. Christmas sort of passed by at a blur. We were at The Meadows, but that was more of a convenience because we could get to the Club ten minutes faster from there than from the downtown condo.

We partied at the club for New Year’s Eve, and had about eighty people in our party alone. The band, comedians, and strippers were superb, and the event created enough of a buzz that we had another three hundred applications for membership in early January. Kate did the New Year’s strip to thunderous applause and appreciation from the crowd that was mostly couples out to celebrate.

One noteworthy event happened on the first Saturday evening in the New Year, we held an Amateur Night. Stacy got out a lot of press about it, and again the club was sold out. At that event, Vanessa, Anna, Felicity, and Monica, all got to dance and strip. They’d been rehearsing their routines with Van and Anna helping the latter two with their dance moves, timing, and strip routines.

Van and Anna got standing ovations. Monica did reasonably well, but blushed the whole time. Felicia was so into the dance and strip that she won the contest. I thought that her win might have been because she’d trimmed her pubic hair into a heart and dyed it day-glow pink. Stacy presented her a small trophy and as Felicia stood naked in front of the audience, she invited her back as a ‘guest stripper’ periodically. The mostly male crowd loved the girls and showered them with money tucked in their stockings and garter belt.

We had a number of other amateurs come forward as well, and a few were really good. Stacy kept track of everyone, and made sure each of them got a letter thanking them for participating and a special coupon for a free dinner for their troubles and bravery in many cases. Stacy offered one girl in her early twenties a part time job.

Whereas many new clubs start with a splash and then winnow away until they close, the Club Infinity went in the other direction. We kept picking up business until we were opening the doors for lunch. We didn’t do full strips at lunch; we turned the event into a lingerie event, where the girls paraded through the tables wearing sexy and seductive lingerie, some of which didn’t hide much of their assets. The place was very popular.

We had a sell-out crowd every night for dinner and perhaps dancing that did shrink and become more male as we got closer to the adult entertainment hours, but even those were well attended. Typically, by the time the strippers took the stage, the men-woman ratio in the club was three or four to one, considerably more balanced than any other club we knew about. We’d also started with a four-night schedule – Wednesday through Saturday, but that became a seven-day a week endeavor in short orders, nicely forcing us to hire more dancers and staff.

We became the ‘go to’ place for bachelor and bachelorette parties within a hundred miles or more. Some nights we had two or three groups celebrating an impending wedding or some other special occasion. The strippers always had something special for those groups in the way of special lap dances and simulated fucking that left some of the groups breathless and horny.

Stacy was putting on ‘Strip for Your Man’ specials now and then. When Valentine’s Day came, the place was packed. About twenty-five amateur women paraded on the stage one after another to do a public but sexy striptease for their lover who sat in a chair of honor right in front of the stage. A few women were daring and went ‘all the way, ‘ to great applause from the appreciative audience. Elsa told me there wasn’t a dry dick or pussy in the house.

To help reinforce the message to their Valentine – me, that I was loved and appreciated, I had eight women who danced and pranced on stage as a group as I sat in the chair of honor beside the stage completely surprised by the effort and show. They were the last of the amateur performers of the night, only it was a pretty professional show with the seven of my girls plus Kate who I later learned had come up with the idea and then helped choreograph the production.

The show started with the stage lights off. As they came up, Kate was wearing a bright red see-through teddy with a red boa around her neck. She sat on a tall stool looking upwards. She had a small toy bow and arrow (with suction cup on it), like a cupid. She looked around and then acted as though she called over each shoulder to the back of the stage. The band played some comfortable but generic dance music and the volume was reduced to call attention to the dancers. A few couples were dancing on the dance floor too but their attention shifted to the stage.

From the two wings of the stage came Elsa, Cindy, Sheila, Melanie, KC, Izzy, and Stacy. They too were wearing see-through red teddies with boas, red thigh high stockings, and red fuck-me shoes, and carrying toy bows and arrows. Each teddy was tight, revealing without question the size, shape, texture, and ply of each breast, and then south of each navel the design of pubic hair (for those that had some) and the start of each slit. Again, there wasn’t a soft cock in the house.

I sat mesmerized by the display of womanhood as they lined up across the stage with Kate in the center. They each turned in a rehearsed domino effect, and pushed their tight little asses out at the audience, but in particular me. They were beautiful and for the most part bare, given the design of the teddies.

They turned back to face the audience and started to sing in tune with the band the song that the Shirelles made popular called ‘Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?’ Elsa, Melanie, and Sheila stepped forward to deliver about ninety seconds of the song.

The music then changed and Mel and Sheila stepped back in line and Izzy, KC, and Stacy joined Elsa to sing ‘The Game of Love’ that Santana and Michelle Branch had as a hit a decade earlier. The guitar player in the band played even better than Santana on the number.

When that faded, all the girls stepped forward in front of me and sang ‘I Love You, ‘ the Martina McBride version. Kate was there too, harmonizing with Elsa who took the lead again. She had a great voice.

At the end of the song the lights went very red and each woman peeled their little teddy from their body, leaving them naked except for their sexy stockings, heels, and the boa. They each then paraded in front of me – and around the stage, took careful aim with their cupid bows and arrows and lobbed an arrow into my lap. Each teddy followed the arrow.

The last to shoot her arrow of love and give me her teddy was Kate. She also gave me a megawatt smile and blew me a kiss as she followed the others off stage.

The audience was going wild with applause and shouts of encore, more, more, more. I expected that the floorshow had ended because the lights stayed dim and the band segued into some danceable music.

To the contrary, Elsa sashayed out from behind the back of the stage, still naked and as sexy as anything. She waltzed to the pole, wrapped around a few times, and then came down the stairs, past a dozen outstretched hands that felt her all over, and into my lap where she proceeded to give me a couple of minutes of sexy lap dance. I thought of her doing this routine months earlier with Sean in Las Vegas at the Wet Pussy Lounge.

Right behind her came Sheila, who duplicated the pole dance, hip wiggle walk to the steps, the dance through the thickening crowd of guys, and into my lap. Izzy was next, and then KC, Stacy, Cindy, and Melanie.

Kate was the last to come out, only she did some really fancy dance steps at the pole, even turning upside down, and then some very athletic moves that would make an Olympian proud. She took an extended route through the club to my lap and then she mounted me face to face so she could kiss me.

Kate whispered to me after the hottest kiss I’d gotten of the night, “Before you leave tonight, I want you to make love to me in your little sex room upstairs. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. Your wives have all told me it was OK and that you were supposed to do what I just asked.” She looked tentative at me, smiled hopefully, and then kissed me really hard before getting up and heading backstage again. I was nonplussed.