At Zach and Janelle's again, enjoying the usual mostly-nekkid wife-swapping foreplaying-around while smoking, drinking, and snorting, the subject of taking us girls to display our womanly charms at Leather and Lace's weekly amateur night came up again. This time, though, we made our men two of the happiest guys on earth by getting up and by-God DOING IT!
We all drove over, walked inside, and the boys hustled their recently-minted Hotwives through the sign-up process. The doorman then escorted J and me to the backstage dressing room, while our men secured a table towards the back. Our hubbies didn't want their presence to inhibit our interaction with the appreciative customers ogling our tits, asses, and the occasional peek of pretty, swollen pussy-lips slipping outside our G-strings in any way. They wanted those anonymous strangers to get all the sexual enjoyment they could out of us, and so did we!
The boys ordered drinks, kicked back, and waited on pins and needles for us to emerge from the backstage cloister and hit the stage with every intention of getting as naked as the law allowed. Way more so, if one of these horny strangers invited one or both of us back to the VIP room for some up-close-and-personal action. We hadn't actually discussed the possibility among our foursome, but my Cucksband already knew I loved the idea his own naughty self. At the very least, I would most certainly go all the way and get completely naked, and to hell with any stupid law!
After our recent glory hole trip (A Glory Hole First parts 1 & 2), we all just figured Janelle would follow my lead, wherever it might wind up taking us all. As I mentioned in that previous memoir, I had worked as a stripper in NYC for several years, and J had been a career peeler here in NC herself. Both of us had absolutely loved every minute of it too. In fact, every least aspect of strutting around practically naked onstage, our bare bods being drooled over and/or felt up by a roomful of desperately horny men, we both found to be a tremendous turn-on. To be paid absolutely stupid money for it seemed almost surreal to kinky, natural-born sex-fiends like us; we had long ago agreed when we first brought up our shared naughty past, that we would have happily done it for free!
Everybody sat patiently through a couple of shaky, awkward amateurs, then one quite good one. Then all of a sudden, it was my turn onstage. DAMN, it was HOT!! It had been awhile; I had almost forgotten how aroused I became from strutting, swaying, and gyrating to the music mostly naked. But it was rapidly coming back to me. I squatted down low to let a front-table cluster of men run their hands all over my bare thighs, grope my butt, and fondle my oversized (honest double-D's) boobs. I grabbed my tits and pushed them right up into the faces of these anonymous horndogs, letting them lick and suck on an erect nipple for a brief moment before moving on to the next table over to give everyone a chance to enjoy me.
Working my third or fourth table, I was in profile to Mike and Zach, so at first they didn't know what to make of it when my current customer/victim—a solid, muscular, kinda rough but good-looking guy; the boys told me it was quite obvious to everyone in the club that he had my undivided and enthusiastic attention after kneading my thighs all the way up to my by-now-wet snootch, his busy hands blocked from their line of sight by my open thighs—induced a deep, electric shudder in me that racked my whole body. My head sagged back as a long, helpless moan escaped my lips. Then I returned my intense gaze to my crotch, where M and J could see the guy's forearm moving rapidly from whatever it was he was doing to me down there.
And then our men got it: my Christiana-craving partner had slipped my G-string aside to slip his fingers into my willing, hungry pussy. More than just one of them, in fact. As my Cucksband told me afterward, the whole room could easily tell from my helpless, panting response that this man was really getting me good, which I was happy to confirm after we had all gone back to Zach and Janelle's place to enjoy some follow-up buzz replenishment, stoking an extended session of incredibly hot reminiscing. Yep, this guy was DEFINITELY masturbating me, while a whole roomful of strange men watched him doing it. Masturbating me QUITE DAMNED WELL, I might add, leaving me panting, moaning, eyes rolling, mouth open, legs spread like a porn star so as to allow this most talented fella to work more fingers more deeply inside me.
The night had only just started, and I was already on the brink of cumming right then and there, in front of a room full of horny strangers! Mike turned to Zach and said: "Watch my wife, Zach, watch her close! She's cumming! That guy is making Christiana cum! Watch her, she wouldn't want you to miss a second of this!" Which, of course, was perfectly true, and I devilishly confirmed that for our horny, pervy foursome as well. Cumming I most certainly was; it was impossible for anybody to miss when I laid back, tucked my feet up under my butt and parted my quivery, shaky knees even wider, my head and shoulders on the floor, and began to scream, "YES, YES, DO IT! OH BABY, OHHH, DO IT, DO IT TO ME BABY, MAKE ME CUM! OH GOD YES I'M CUMMING I'M CUMMING I'M CUMMMMMMINNNNNG!!"
I got off HARD, my new anonymous lover now obviously driving four fingers in and out of my steamy lovemaker, his rough ministrations making me cum and cum and cum some more—several dozen men looking on as I was absolutely ravished, overcome completely by this public quenching of my insatiable, perverted lust for domination, humiliation, and exposure in front of a totally turned-on crowd.
As this stud went on masturbating me, I began trying to wrestle the thong off my body entirely. He obliged by just ripping the flimsy thing apart, tearing it off my pumping hips, and tossing it onto the stage. Free at last, my body now completely bare, I laid back to let him continue fingering me, humping his hand as he finger-fucked my wet, open pussy and got me off again and again. Meanwhile, the bouncer rushed over to M and Z's table, a somewhat worried look on his face, and struck up a conversation with Mike which, during our swinging foursome's after-action report, he described for us stripper/Hotwives like this:
That's your wife up there, right? Girlfriend, something?
Yep, sure is. Wife.
And you're okay with all this?
