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The seething passions that lurk within many individuals, are often hidden beneath a veneer of normalcy, exposed only under extremely tempting conditions.
The woman who, after a few drinks at a party, takes on all comers, male and female alike. The man who, during a strip show at a stag party, climbs up on stage with the girl and performs with her in front of his friends. The couple who surreptitiously join the neighborhood mate-swappers.
Ellie, the young woman in this story, is one of these outwardly normal people. But when she leaves her husband and begins a new life as a nude dancer, she also discovers depths of depravity she previously never would have considered herself capable of. And so she tried at first to deny her real self, seeking refuge behind other facades, but ultimately failing.
STRIPPER WIFE – a shocking story about a society that refuses to face many of its real problems.
Barry Price fought his way up, through the hangover mist in his brain, until he was teetering on the thin edge between sleep and wakefulness.
There was something strange about the reaction of the mattress under him when he moved. When he shifted his weight the mattress seemed to dip towards the center of the bed. This would only happen if there were someone else in bed with him.
He slid his hand slowly across the bed under the blanket. His fingers touched something soft and smooth and warm. Now his ears detected the sound of another pair of lungs breathing raggedly, he let his fingers trace the outline of the warm, soft, smooth object.
It could only be one thing: the tender cheek of a very nice ass. So Barry knew he was in bed with someone. His searching fingers came to the furrow between the ass cheeks. He probed between them and on down to the space between the thighs. There his fingers found the furry crack of a cunt.
He sighed in relief; at least he wasn’t in bed with a man. It was hard to tell sometimes what crazy stunts he could pull when he went off the deep end and let the booze get to him.
He forced his eyes open and rolled over to look at his companion. She lay on her stomach with her face away from him. The blanket covered her only as far as the middle of her back, and above it she was nude. Her breasts must be large, he reasoned, because there was a wealth of them pressing outward beneath her. At least that was good Barry was one hell of a tit man.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.
Note: This story is the same as catalog number CB-4095 in the original publications (a duplicate).