I think I made a grave error. I guess I should explain. Well before marriage, I used to enjoy the occasional trip to strip clubs. I never went often and hardly ever when dating someone. But there was something so tantalizing about having a pretty girl dance for you and even, those times when I could afford it, having her dance against you.

Granted it was no substitute for sex, but it was usually a lot of fun and it would feed my masturbatory fantasies in-between relationships. I remember this one dark-haired ... oh, that’s off track.

Since getting married, I haven’t gone anywhere near one. Oh, I would drive by one now and again going through town and have a few fond memories, but any stirrings I would then apply judiciously to my wife. We had a good and active sex life even after four years of marriage. I kept hearing how things trickle off, but that hasn’t happened!

Unfortunately, one of my friends mentioned my old habit to my wife and since then she’s been teasing me about it quite a bit. Finally, one evening we were driving a little south of the main drag and passed one. It had a big glaring sign and my wife started in a little. You know the type of comments, ‘Oh, is that one of your hangouts?’ or ‘Did you ever score there?” You know, sort of annoying comments. So I did something that might turn out to be a huge mistake, I pulled in.

She looked at me for a long second and seemed to take it as a dare. She got out of the car and headed for the door. I thought, ‘Oh shit!’ and hurriedly joined her. The guy at the door took one appreciative look at her and let her in, I, on the other hand, had to pay the cover charge. I guess girls are welcome! I caught up with her at the bar right next to one of the three dance stages. She was actually watching the dancer intently.

Anyone would have to admit the girl was gorgeous, as you sort of usually expected in a strip club but rarely saw. Oh, I know some of the girls seemed to be more average-looking, but there were always a few that were stunning. This one was a stunner! She was tall, slim, but with a female bodybuilder’s shoulders and strong-looking legs. She danced athletically with obvious skill.

She was wearing a crop-top, torn raggedly which showed off an impressive abdomen. Her shorts were skin-tight and in dark contrast to her skin. Her hair was loose and swirled around in a very sexy pattern. All-in-all just the kind of dancer I would love to pay for a lap dance, but I was half-afraid to look directly at her while sitting next to my wife. My wife wasn’t afraid to look, I had trouble deciphering the look on my wife’s face.

Before you ask, this wasn’t one of the clubs I used to frequent, I didn’t even know it was in this part of town because I couldn’t have missed that sign. It must be a fairly new place. The dancer’s top disappeared and she was wearing a bikini top under it. That top held in a nice chest, not huge, but well proportioned for her body. I glanced and realized she, the dancer, certainly noticed my wife sitting there.

Suddenly, instead of moving around the small stage, she zeroed in on Miri and seemed to dance only for her. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but the look on my wife’s face was unfamiliar. In some ways, she looked fascinated, where I would have expected some ... well, maybe not disgust, but something akin to it.

Her bikini top came off and there she was in front of my wife, kneeling with her knees spread wide as she played with her breasts. If she had been doing it in front of some guy, I would expect to find out he was some high-roller who always shelled out more money than guys like me.

My wife reached into her purse and pulled out some cash, she separated one bill and tried to give it to the dancer, who took Miri’s hand and put the back of it against her thigh and slowly pulled her hand up the inside of her thigh. It caused Miri to stand on the stool footrest and lean over the railing that ran along the bar. From my angle, it looked like Miri’s head had disappeared between the dancer’s legs. Normally, this would be a huge turn-on, but this was my wife! I was torn between annoyance and, to be honest, serious lust!

When Miri sat back down, she was minus the bill and her face was red and she was breathing hard. Other bills started falling on the stage as some of the other patrons showed their appreciation. The dancer made some sort of signal and one of the other dancers brought out a chair. She put it in the middle of the small stage, its back centered on the stripper pole. Then she started dancing more suggestively around the stage, stopping again in front of my wife. This time it was the dancer who leaned down as she said something to my wife. I couldn’t make it out. My guess would have been an invitation to the VIP room for a private dance.

At this point, I was sort of lost. A wet dream of a dancer was playing up to my lovely wife and my wife was going along. When Miri slipped off her barstool, I saw her nipples were at full attention pushing through her bra. My wife has lovely small breasts, like the dancer, perfect for her body frame which was slender and small.

Miri’s five-foot-two and weighs about one hundred and five. One of the servers approached my wife, again I assumed she would be heading to the VIP area, but I had forgotten about the chair. The server led her to the steps at the end of the stage area and the dancer met her at the top, then led her to the chair. I sat there dumbfounded!

She sat Miri down and started the most erotic lap dance I had ever seen. Every eye in the place was on the two of them, one of the other dancers, who had been working a small stage off to one side, even stopped dancing after all her clients turned away from her. The music blared, but I could barely hear it as my own senses were taken over by what was happening just in front of me.

The dancer was kneeling again, this time between my wife’s open legs and she ran her hands up and down Miri’s bare legs. Somewhere along the way, Miri’s sandals had come off. I missed when that happened. The dancer then kissed her way down Miri’s leg and started rubbing her foot.

I saw Miri’s eyes close briefly as the dancer sucked on her big toe. Fuck me, I didn’t even know that would be a turn-on for her! She treated it like it was a little cock and it got one hell of a blow-job. I could tell Miri was getting excited because she was having trouble keeping still. Her other leg kept opening and closing and her hands were gripping the edge of the chair with white knuckles. Her eyes never left the dancer’s face except for those moments when the feelings overtook her and she moaned and threw her head back briefly.

To be objective, it was the sexiest thing I had seen in my short life. The problem for me was my wife was as turned-on as I had ever seen her and it wasn’t me doing it! What was left of my brain, the part not being overloaded, kept saying I should have been jealous, but I couldn’t help it. I was excited as she was. I swear to god, if someone touched my dick right then, I would have cum all over myself in an instant.

Hell, I was tempted to touch myself anyway, but I was too mesmerized by the scene in front of me. The dancer worked her way back up Miri’s leg and then lifted the edge of the tee Miri wore and pressed her face to her belly. I heard calls from the audience to strip her, but the dancer had other ideas.

She straightened up, her height gave her an advantage over Miri despite being on her knees. She cupped her bare breasts and offered one to Miri. Miri went to touch it, but the dancer pulled away. When Miri put her hand down, the dancer offered it again, only this time aimed it for Miri’s face. No, not her face, her mouth.

I had to move, my view from behind the action wasn’t cutting it. I found myself on the outskirt of the gathering of customers who were enjoying the show. Two other dancers were in robes in the crowd watching as intently as anyone else. As I moved, I realized the stage was covered in crumpled bills, but no one seemed to be paying attention. Everyone was focused on the two on the stage.

When I looked back, I saw something I would have never bet on in a million years, my wife was sucking on a stripper’s tit and she looked like she was enjoying it. Her hands were around the dancer’s back, no, only one was, the other was cupping the dancer’s other breast. I figured the bouncer would be breaking things up because touching was not allowed.

I looked closely at Miri and that was a look I recognized. Miri had forgotten about the place and the crowd, she was totally focused on what she was doing. Nothing else mattered, even me, I realized. The dancer pressed her body between Miri’s legs and I saw Miri wrap her legs around the dancer’s hips as she started grinding against my Miri. Miri’s shorts were no defense. They weren’t short-shorts, but they were like yoga shorts and tight. I’m sure there’s another name for them, but I just liked them because they showed off her tight butt.

From the side, I saw the dancer’s hands go under Miri’s tee and, quite obviously, under her bra. Miri’s breasts were small but very sensitive. She, the dancer, didn’t uncover them, she simply played with them like a pianist playing piano keys. I could see Miri’s head turn from side to side. She was so close to an orgasm, it was obvious to me at least. She was breathing very hard, then the dancer did something I had never seen in any club, she kissed her.

We aren’t talking a little lip touching, the dancer pressed her whole body against Miri and locked their lips together like she was giving mouth-to-mouth. I saw Miri’s body straighten out across the chair, stiffening completely and almost supporting the weight on the dancer as that kiss continued. In what felt like forever, Miri’s body collapsed back down into the chair and the dancer tenderly stroked her face like one lover would do to another.

The dancer stood up and offered her hand to Miri. My wife seemed to realize there was an audience for the first time in a surprisingly long time and blushed a deep red. The dancer also seemed to realize what they did because as she looked down, the stage looked like it was a lawn of green and white from where an appreciative audience had shown their gratitude.

The dancer took Miri’s hand and whispered something. Then they took a bow before she escorted my wife off the stage while a couple of club employees gathered the bills. The two disappeared into what had to be the dancers’ dressing room.

What also felt like an incredibly long time, one of the servers came to me and said, “Miri will be by the back door. She doesn’t want to come back out here again. She asked for you to get the car and meet her there.”

As I pulled up to the back door, I saw Miri and the dancer, who towered above my diminutive wife, sharing another searing kiss. I also realized she was wearing a club tee-shirt instead of what she had on when she entered the club. I waited for that kiss to end, but it did take a while because the dancer was holding Miri’s butt with one hand and the other was lost somewhere between them. I could only imagine where that was. Then the final thing I noticed was Miri was also not wearing her yoga shorts.