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A big black dog and a big blonde woman. That was the only audience for Mary Stewart’s maiden performance as a stripper. Her husband had often tried to get her to take off her clothes to the strains of such thumping music as this, but Mary had always refused him. Henry might still be faithful to her if she had complied with his wishes and strip teased for him and catered to some of his other filthy bedroom whims. As it was, Henry had left her, and she was peeling out of her sweat-dampened clothes before the languorously interested eyes of her girlfriend, Claire Eaton, and Claire’s Labrador retriever, Argo.
Mary was a thirty-six-year-old ex-housewife, and she was putting on a pretty good show, now that Claire had at last talked her into it. She couldn’t have done it without the whiskey and Cokes they’d had on that hot summer afternoon in Claire’s little tract house. She still didn’t know if she’d be able to completely bare her breasts, for their great size had always been a source of embarrassment to her, and she couldn’t quite see herself swinging and bouncing a pair of big globes like hers without any covering on them at all. Her audience seemed to be enjoying her dance well enough as it was.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.