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I slipped my arm through Spike’s, willing to play the part of the girlfriend. I’d told him to tone down his flamboyance for the night. To try, if he could, to look a bit more manly.

We paid the cover and entered the club, which was large, with staggered levels. There was a lot of neon. Blues and purples and pinks.

“Look at the cellulite on that one,” Spike said, eyeing the dancer on stage as we went to an unoccupied booth.

“You did not come here to be a critic,” I said to him. “You’re supposed to be a manly guy enjoying the view. Not a gay man who’s going to critique outfits and hair.”

“But look at that pink thing she’s wearing,” he protested. “Surely that’s not meant to turn anyone on. And I thought you had to be skinny to perform in these clubs.”

“Every guy has his type. And judging by all the applause, she’s a crowd favorite.”

The dancer had ample curves, thick hips and a huge ass…which she was now shaking at a speed that was both impressive and startling.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” Spike said.

“Next time, we’ll go to a male strip club,” I promised him.

“Girl, you’re on.”

A waitress came to our table, her breasts bare. They were small and perky, a contrast to most of the other boobs I saw around the place.

She smiled sweetly at us, the kind of smile I was sure she plastered on her face for tipping customers. I wondered if she liked her job or just did it for the cash.

“I’ll have a Bloody Mary,” I said.

“Jack Daniel’s on the rocks,” Spike told her.

And then we settled in to watch the show. The Web site had said that the women here took off all their
clothes, but I was still startled to see the woman come out of her bra and panties, piece by piece.

Totally nude, she lowered herself on all fours, her ass facing the audience. Once again, she did that ass-shaking thing, driving the crowd insane. Then she rolled onto her back and skillfully maneuvered one leg behind her head, exposing herself in a way I thought was reserved only for doctors. The audience satisfied, she collected the bills that had been thrown onto the stage and then sauntered off, her gait as confident and sexy as any I’d ever seen.

Our waitress returned just in time, because I needed a drink after what I’d seen. I took a good gulp of the Bloody Mary. Then I rolled my shoulders in an effort to loosen them. Now that I knew what to expect, I was prepared.

I’d never been to a strip club before, and this was a little shocking. But Robert had been many times, so hopefully my research would pay off.

The next dancer, a skinny redhead with massive breasts, came onto the stage in a nurse’s outfit. The top of her uniform barely covered her chest—which I supposed was the point.

“What do you think about that outfit?” I asked. “You think Robert will like that?”

“It’s kind of cute,” Spike conceded. “But I see him as the type to go for a classier, slutty look.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll tell you when I see it.”

The nurse headed straight for the pole, wrapping her right hand around the metal and doing a slow walk
around it. Then she thrust her body forward, so it nestled between her breasts. She slithered down, cocking her ass outward, exposing a teasing amount of the flesh on her butt.

That got cheers from the guys.

“I like that move,” I said. “Robert likes ass. That should get him hard in a hurry.”

“This is the kind of shit you tell your shrink, not your best friend,” Spike joked.

“That’s why I pay you the big bucks!”

The waitress came back to the table, eyeing our glasses. We weren’t ready for refills yet.

First, the dancer pulled off the cute nurse’s hat she was wearing, letting her locks fall free. She shook her head, ruffled her hair with her fingers.

“I’m definitely going to get a wig,” I said. “I think it’ll add to the whole act.”

Spike didn’t answer. His eyes were glued to the stripper.

“Well, well, well,” I said. “And I thought you only came for me.”

“Are you gonna talk all night, or watch and learn?”

I watched. The stripper somehow maneuvered herself on the pole so that she was upside down, a move that took good arm strength. Holding the pole, she bent her legs—completely exposing her ass, save for the white fabric strip of her thong.

She came down from the pole, and with one easy pull, whipped her uniform off her body. Now she was in a bra—one that covered only her nipples—her thong,
her thigh-high stockings and what had to be five-inch white stilettos. There were cries of “Take it off!”

She returned to the pole, curved one leg around it and bent her body back until her hair flowed to the ground. Then she climbed the pole using her legs and arms. Reaching the top, she held on with her legs only, bent backward again—and ripped off the bra.

The screams were hysterical.

I glanced around. Some of the female patrons were whistling and clapping. I began to do the same, not wanting to feel like the oddball in the place.

The way the first woman had shaken her ass so well, this one did with her breasts. When she came down from the pole, she did a few dance moves and then shook her upper body so that her breasts didn’t just bob up and down, they swung around and around. I found myself jerking my shoulders, seeing if I could figure out the move.

I watched dancer after dancer. Spike got into the whole show, not as a man appreciating women’s attributes, but as someone watching a form of entertainment. He even paid for a dancer to perform before us. She sat on his lap and gyrated against him. I watched not only how she moved her body, but the expression on her face. The oh-my-God-I’m-so-turned-on-by-this look.

The dance cost twenty dollars. We gave her forty.

“So are you straight now?” I joked when the dancer left our table.

“I still love me a hard cock,” Spike admitted.

“Me, too.”

“Have you seen enough?” he asked.

“I guess so.” My seduction plan was coming together in my mind. I would find a place to get an outfit that would be supersexy and fun. The wig and the shoes would complete the look. “I can try to practice some moves when they drop the pole off tomorrow—see if my arms are strong enough to maneuver me up it the way these women do.”

“Oh, to be a fly on the wall…” Spike’s eyes lit up. “Hey, you can take a video of yourself.”

I made a face at him. “I might be ready to get a bit more adventurous, but this show’s just for my husband.”

I put my plan into action the next day.

I knew that Robert would be playing golf in the afternoon, followed by an early dinner and drinks with his friends at the country club. Hopefully, when he got home he would be relaxed and in a good mood.

And ready to be seduced.

From my shop I called Olga and told her she could go home early. I didn’t want her around to see what I was up to. I arrived home just after three to meet the deliverymen.

I learned more about poles than I ever thought I would. A lot of the options could be installed directly from floor to ceiling—provided the ceiling wasn’t more than nine feet high. Our bedroom had ten-foot coffered ceilings, so I chose a pole that would stand on a platform.

The platform was a four-by-four-foot box of frosted acrylic with LED lights inside that would illuminate while I danced. It was sturdier than I’d expected, almost like a real stage, with a steel pole rising in the center.

Hours later, I was dressed and ready for my performance. I’d found the perfect outfit. I decided not to go for a tacky nurse or Playboy bunny outfit, but instead wear something more traditional. At Frederick’s of Hollywood, I almost bought a beautiful lace corset, but thought better of it. A corset might pose problems when trying to get it off. So I opted for a sheer, red lace trimmed baby doll with matching thong. I made the outfit a little more racy with black fishnet stockings, four-inch black patent knee-high boots, and a long, black wig. The baby doll was covered by a black silk robe. I had white wine chilling in a carafe and had already helped myself to a glass. The stereo system was ready to play the music I would dance to. A spritz of Red Door perfume on my neck completed my outfit.

At six-thirty, I called Robert at the club. “Are you ready to come home soon?” I asked.

“Nearly.”

“Good. What I want you to do is take one of your pills. You know the one.”

Robert didn’t like me to say “Viagra.” He hated the reality of the word, and preferred for me to call it simply “the pill.”

“But I don’t have any.”

“Oh, yes, you do. Check your wallet. You’ll find it in the zippered compartment, wrapped in tissue.”

“Really?”

“I’ll see you soon,” I said, hoping that my elusiveness hinted at what was to come.

By seven o’clock, I’d had two glasses of wine. That’s when I heard the chime that sounded when the front door opened.

I put my wineglass on my night table and quickly stood. Drawing in a breath, I combed my fingertips through the wig.

“Elsie?” I heard Robert call from downstairs.

“I’m in the bedroom, honey.” I plugged in the stage to turn on the array of neon lights. “Can you come up, please?”

My heart was pounding as I waited for him. When I saw the knob begin to turn, I struck a sexy pose.

Robert stepped into the room. His eyes widened as he regarded me. Then his gaze went to the pole platform in the center of the room.

I smiled. Took a step toward him, then stopped. “Good evening, sweetheart.”

“You’re taller.” Robert’s gaze lowered to my boots. “And your hair is longer.”

“I know.”

“What is this?”

I trailed my fingers along my skin where my robe fell open above my breasts. “It’s a pole.”

“I can see that. What’s it doing in our bedroom?”

I strutted toward Robert, swaying my hips in an exaggerated motion. I placed my palms on his chest. “I’m gonna entertain you, baby.”

“Entertain me? Oh, Elsie—you don’t need that foolishness to entertain me.”

The words stung a little. I wanted Robert to smile. I wanted to see a gleam in his eyes, some excitement that I would try something unique and different.

“I know we don’t need this,” I said, gesturing to the pole. “But I think it’ll be fun.”

I slipped my hands beneath his jacket and slowly pushed it off of his shoulders. Robert chuckled, but it was more of an embarrassed sound than one of expectation.

“Did you take your pill?” I asked.

“Yes, I did.”

“Good.” It normally took thirty minutes to take effect, and it was about half an hour since I’d called him. Which meant he was ready to be seduced.

“Music!” I exclaimed. “I’m forgetting the music. Why don’t you sit down. Make yourself comfortable for the show.”

“Why don’t I take a shower first,” Robert suggested.

“No.” I pressed my hands flat against his chest. “No shower. I want you dirty….”

I giggled and twirled around, hoping that he was becoming inspired. I was sure he would be—once he saw what I was wearing beneath my silk robe.

I already had a CD in the Bose player, something bluesy and soulful. It was good music to prance around and gyrate to.

“I’ll turn on the stereo,” I said. “You sit down.” I pressed my lips against Robert’s and kissed him softly, a promise of what was to come. Then I urged him backward to the bed. He sat.

“So you’re going to perform,” he said.

“I know you’ve gone to some gentlemen’s clubs in the past. But I hope this performance trumps any you’ve ever seen.”

He made a face, almost as if I was being silly, but I wasn’t deterred. I did my best sleazy walk as I went to the console on the far wall where we had our DVD player and sound system. I pressed the play button to start the music.

I was tipsy from the two glasses of wine I’d consumed, so had no problem shedding my inhibitions. I danced my way to the pole in the center of the room. I put one foot on the platform and displayed it there for a moment, showing off my leg in the pink neon light. Then I leaned forward, put both hands on my leg and trailed a path with my fingers up to the edge of the robe.

I stepped onto the platform, twisting my body seductively. Wrapping my fingers around the metal pole, I held on as I strutted around it.

Then I secured a leg around the pole and swung around it, as I’d practiced earlier. I tipped my head back, letting the wig’s hair dangle as I spun.

Holding the pole, I drew myself to an upright position. Then I turned my body so that my back was against it. Each of my movements was timed to the sultry beat. Gyrating my hips, I slithered down the pole. My lips were parted, and I hoped I was pulling off a sexy pout.

When I was on my haunches at the bottom, I met Robert’s gaze. I kept my eyes locked with his as I loosened the robe’s ties. Slowly, I worked myself back up
the pole, and when I was standing tall again, I slipped the robe off.

Robert’s eyes widened with interest, and that simple reaction gave me an adrenaline boost. I picked up the pace of my hips and shoulders. Pushing my breasts forward, I played with my nipples through the delicate fabric of my baby doll.

The look of lust on Robert’s face was my reward.

I pulled the fabric off one breast, exposing it completely. I licked my finger. Ran it around my nipple. Drew my bottom lip into my mouth as I continued to move my body erotically.

Slowly, I turned around so that my back was to Robert. I pulled the baby doll over my head and tossed it onto the platform beside me. Then I went down on all fours, giving him a view of my ass. I spread my legs slightly, knowing he would see the scrap of red covering my pussy. Maintaining that position, I started to shake my ass—hoping I could do it half as well as the dancer in the club.

Robert wasn’t making any comments, at least not that I could hear above the music. Getting to my feet, with my back still to him, I slipped my thumbs beneath the sides of my thong. I slid the panty down my thighs and over my heels, then kicked it aside.

“Are you ready for me yet?” I asked Robert in a husky voice. When I turned around, I saw that his eyes were dark with lust. His eyes fixated on my nipples, which I was stroking. A jolt of desire shot through me when I saw the strain of his erection against his pants.

“Yes.” The sound was low. Almost a ragged whisper escaping his lips.

Naked as the day I was born, except for the boots and stockings, I started down from the platform. Robert stood now, beginning to undress. While he watched me, I tweaked my nipples, feeling the same surge of excitement I had felt in my fantasies.

I kissed him deeply the moment I reached him, a kiss such as we hadn’t shared in a long time. I forced his lips open with my tongue and pressed my mouth to his. I moved forward, forcing him back onto the bed.

“Did you like the show?”

“How could I not?”

Giggling with a sense of pride, I straddled my husband.

“Wow, you really do want it,” Robert said against my lips.

“Mmm-hmm.”

I gave him a shove—not too rough—and he got the point. He lay back on the bed.

“That’s better,” I purred. My body was ready, positioned over his cock. A few hip movements and he would be inside me.

“Hold on for a second,” Robert said.

“What?” I asked.

“Can you take off those boots?”

“I bought these sexy heels just for you.”

“Sexy they may be, but I don’t want them to ruin the bedding.”

I stared into Robert’s eyes, wondering if he was se
rious. He was. I wanted to fuck with an urgency and passion we hadn’t experienced in a long time.

He wanted to make sure that the bedding stayed intact.

“All right,” I agreed, but his request was like a pin-prick in my balloon of desire.

I eased off my husband and unzipped the first boot. The music was still playing, but I was aware that our momentum was fading.

I got one boot off, but decided to stand as I peeled off the next one, bending forward so that Robert would have an unrestricted view of my pussy from behind.

“Sweet Jesus,” he said. “You keep that up and I might come before I touch you.”

His words were like a shot of adrenaline to my libido, and I turned to face him. He was lying on his back, and had his hand around the base of his cock.

“Come here,” he growled.

I slithered onto the bed, still trying to emulate the moves of a stripper or a porn star. Robert snaked his hands around my waist and pulled me down beside him.

He pulled off my wig, saying, “That’s better.”

And then he began to kiss me. As he did, he edged me onto my back. One hand moved over my right breast. He moaned, played with my nipple. Then he moved his hand to my other breast and did the same.

I knew what was coming next before he did it. He slid a hand down my torso and cupped my pussy, all while continuing to kiss me. Then he broke the kiss and lowered his mouth to my breasts. He suckled one
nipple for a few seconds before turning his attention to the other.

Right on cue, he pushed a finger into my pussy.

This was all from the how-the-Kolstads-fuck playbook. It was the same routine.

And I felt my desire ebb away, slowly but surely. Little by little, the excitement of having sex was replaced by familiarity. This was not how I wanted to be fucked.

Not today.

God, not today.

Not after I’d done my best to spice things up.

Robert kissed my belly—he really liked my belly button—but by the time he began stroking my legs, I was faking my moans.

He knelt over me now, his head just above my raised knees.

“Spread your legs, darling.”

I let my legs fall apart. At once, Robert reached for my pussy, using his thumb—always his thumb—to dip into my folds and massage my clit. His deep groaning said he was enjoying this. And I tried, for both our sakes and the goal of getting pregnant, not to be disappointed that we had fallen into our typical lovemaking routine.

Robert slipped a finger inside me again, then two. And then he lowered his face between my thighs and started to lick my clit. His tongue was stiff as it moved up and down in rigid strokes. I closed my eyes, tried to enjoy the sensation. I moved my hips, faking a pleasure I wasn’t feeling.

And then I found myself picturing another man between my thighs. A man whose tongue wasn’t stiff. A
man whose tongue licked and flicked and went around my clit in soft circles. A man whose tongue dipped into my pussy. A man who drank my juices as if they were the sweetest nectar.

The man with the hazel eyes.

I imagined him suckling me softly and playing with my pussy, using both his hands and his mouth to bring me pleasure. That’s when heat began to envelop me, and my moans became genuine again.

I grabbed my own nipples as my fantasy played out. I could hear Robert’s groans, louder, more satisfied that he was pleasing me. But I imagined the groans belonged to the sexy stranger who couldn’t get enough of my pussy.

My orgasm came out of the blue, shuddering through every part of my body. Crying out from the pleasure, I arched my spine, arched my feet. Tightened my thighs around my lover’s face.

Easing upward, Robert eased his cock into my body. I wrapped my arms around him and nibbled on his jaw as he made love to me, still feeling wonderful from my orgasm. Minutes later, Robert came, and I squeezed my inner muscles around his cock.

For several moments we lay together, the sound of our heavy breathing mixing with the music. I moved my lips from Robert’s jaw to his mouth and kissed him.

He broke the kiss quickly and rolled off of me. I turned onto my side and raised myself up on an elbow.

“So.” I trailed a finger over his gray chest hairs. “Did you like the show?”

Robert met my gaze. “It was different.”

“Different good?” I said hopefully.

“Well…” He sighed softly. “It wasn’t what I expected.”

“What—not as good as all the professionals you’ve seen?”

“You don’t have to go to these lengths.” He gestured toward the pole. “I love you as you are. Actually, I prefer you as you are. No wigs and stilettos and props.”

I couldn’t help it, I was hurt. Because I sensed what he wasn’t saying—that he disapproved. “You didn’t like it.”

“Elsie—”

“No, tell me.” I had turned him on, he had fucked me, but now that he was satisfied he was criticizing me.

“If you want the truth—no. I didn’t. It was trashy. And…”

I drew in a deep breath. “And what?”

“It’s not important, Elsie. Just know that you don’t have to do anything like this again.”

“And what?” I repeated.

“If you must know, it made me think of something your mother might do.”