I knew when the telephone rang who it was. I didn't even have to check the caller ID. It was twenty after ten o'clock in the morning. I had made myself a promise I wouldn't talk to him again, however my feet apparently didn't remember my resolution. I moved toward the ringing phone as if propelled by some strange force. My hands let me down also. I picked up the phone.

"Hello," I said into the receiver.

"Hey, where have you been hiding?" The oh-so-familiar voice asked.

"I'm not hiding," I answered. "I've been busy for a while."

"Really?" he said. "Well get un-busy and get your ass over here. I need a blowjob and some pussy."

"Charles, I don't think..."

"I'm already hard, just thinkin' 'bout your lips on my black cock. I'm waitin', cunt. Get here!" He hung up the phone. Charles O'Dell had called for his slave to come forth.

'I'm not going', I said to myself over and over again as I changed my clothes. 'Who does he think I am, to be ordered around?'

My name is Suzanne Collins, wife to Tim Collins and mother to Tim junior. I am a college graduate, and while not presently working outside the home, I have held gainful employment. I am not someone normally ordered about like a slave, so why was I changing my clothes to meet Charles O'Dell? It a complicated story, but never the less I'll try to tell it.

 

***

 

Tim and I have always enjoyed a very active, and for the most part, a satisfying sex life. We do most of the normal things married couples do to keep things interesting in the bedroom. Light bondage, fantasizing, and role playing. Role playing is a fairly new addition to our inventory of fun and games.

One role playing game is where I am a prostitute and Tim is my customer or john. I'm not completely sure how that game got out of the bedroom and into...well, out into the public.

I think it may have begun when Tim and I were out one night. We had gone out to eat and ended up at a bar. I was returning from the restroom when a couple of guys hit on me. I was seriously flattered. After all, it's not every thirty-five year old woman that gets hit on by young men. I take a lot of pride in staying in shape. I workout at least two times a week, and I watch my diet. I'm happy that my thirty-six C breasts don't sag very much. I've realized since high school that my green eyes were the second thing that seemed to get the guys attention. I keep my auburn hair fairly short.

Our sixteen year old son was attending military school located a few hours drive away. I was not ready for Timmy to leave home, but my husband insisted that Timmy go to the same military prep school he had gone to. Timmy was willing to attend, if not overly excited about it. After the first month, Timmy got excited about his new life, and we only saw him on weekends, holidays, and summer vacation. The strict, regimented life at military school seemed to agree with Timmy who had somehow picked up the name "Stud". I didn't know how he got the nickname, nor did I inquire. Some things a mother doesn't need to know.

"You won't believe what just happened," I said to my husband when I got back to our table. "Two young men tried to pick me up."

"Why wouldn't I believe it?" Tim asked with a grin. "You look ten years younger than you actually are, and you have a killer body. What's not to believe? Hell, Honey, if you dressed a bit more provocative, I'd have to beat the guys off of you with a stick."

"Are you serious?" I asked. "You actually want me to dress like...a slut?"

"Yes, but a conservative slut," he said with an evil grin. I didn't ask what the hell a conservative slut was. I mean in my mind a slut was a slut...period.

A short while later Tim mentioned he was willing to spring for a new wardrobe, but only if he could pick it out. Of course I agreed.

The very next day Tim took me shopping and bought a lot of new and daring clothes for me. Things I would have never bought for myself. Frankly, I didn't see anything conservative about them.

After the purchase when we went out, which was more often then previously, he insisted that I dress in the risqué clothes he bought for me. They were by any definition, titillating. I'm not going to lie, I did like the new sensuous me. Over the next four or five weeks my attire went from sensuous to just plan raunchy. Because of our standing in the community, we traveled far a field on those occasions when I consented to wear the more daring outfits.

I couldn't get over how excited Tim got when he had me on display. He beamed when some guy tried to pick me up. I didn't understand it, but I was willing to accept it. One of our favorite places was a small club two towns away. It was called the "Silver Spoon". It was a mixed crowd. Older people for the most part. By that I mean upper twenties to mid forties. At first I found the competition between me and the other women to be daunting, but I got over it pretty soon. I'm completive by nature and frankly I knew I looked pretty good.

I'm a pretty good dancer and Tim doesn't care much for it so I spent a lot of time on the dance floor with strangers. I also got felt up a lot. When I would tell Tim about it he would get even more excited. Something else I didn't get.

One Saturday afternoon we were on our way home from visiting Timmy at school. We stopped for gas in a small town called Grayville about an hour's drive from home. Tim spied a combination bar and strip club across the road from the gas station. He asked me to change into one of my newer outfits. I laughed and told him I didn't bring anything like that with me. To my surprise he had. After a few minutes argument, I went into the restroom and changed. I essentially ran back to the car to keep anyone from seeing me. Tim had packed the raunchiest of the raunchy clothes. Small tight shorts that nearly exposed the cheeks of my butt with a cut-off tee-shirt that just barely covered my breasts. The shirt was so shear my nipples were plainly visible. I incorrectly assumed we were going to flash truckers, which we had done on several occasions. Tim had even installed a CB radio so that he could listen to the crude comments the truck drivers made about me. I was shocked when he drove across the highway and pulled in front of the dingy place.

"I'm not going in there!" I said. "No way! You have to be out of your mind!"

"Come on, Suzanne," he insisted. "It will be fun. You go in first and I'll follow. I'll find you and buy you a drink. Everybody will think I'm picking you up."

It did sound like it might be fun and I was pretty sure we wouldn't know anyone in the place, so I gave up and went in. The man at the door waved me in telling me that there would be no cover charge because I was an unescorted female. A little later, Tim had to pay ten dollars to get in. I couldn't see the attraction unless it was the teenager trying to dance on the postage stamp size stage. She had boobs about the size of a couple of chicken eggs. I'm not being mean or critical, she was just flat-chested. Mostly all nipple.

I went to the bar and ordered a drink while waiting on my "pick-up" to arrive. I had no more than got sat down when A guy appeared at my shoulder with an offer to buy my drink for me. Thinking this fool wanted to be soon parted from his money, I let him buy the drink.

"So how you doin'?" the guy asked me. He apparently got his lines from TV sitcom 'Friends', but he looked nothing like Joey. I told him I was fine. "So what's a gorgeous gal like yourself doing here?" The poor sap needed to work on his lines...a lot.

"I thought it might be a nice place to have a drink," I answered him.

"I'm James. I thought you might be a dancer, just waitin' her turn on stage." Okay, his line was improving considerably. "Are you here to audition for a job?"

"No," I answered unable to keep my face straight. "I'm a little old for that, don't you think?"

"Naw, you're just right. Just a couple weeks ago a woman 'bout your age won the armature night contest. Took home a bunch of cash."

"And how old would you think I am?" I asked. The way we women fish for complements. I saw Tim come in and take a seat at a table in front of the stage where the girl was trying her best to shake her pitifully small boobs.

"I'd say about twenty-two or three," he said. I couldn't detect any trace of deviousness in his look. He didn't seem to be the type to be able to hide his guile. I was admittedly flattered by the reduction in age of over ten years. I finished the drink and looked around for Tim, wondering when he was going to make his move. James was joined by another man who insisted that he buy my next drink. His name was Art. Another fool wanted to spend his money, so I let Art buy the next one. Art and James apparently knew one another and they were trying hard to outdo each other in an effort to impress me. I'm not sure about the time frame. I think we had been in the place for about an hour. Tim seemed to be occupied by one of the dancers, soliciting high priced drinks.

Art noticed him first and cleared his throat to get James' attention. He was a large black man standing behind James.

"You boys need to be somewhere else," the man said in a deep voice. Apparently James and Art thought so, too. They left quickly and the man sat down beside me.

"I'm Charles O'Dell," the man said. "Who are you?"

"I'm..." I thought about making up a name, but discarded the idea as no one knew me in that burg. "I'm Suzanne," I said.

"You a dancer, Suzanne?" he asked. I told him that I wasn't a dancer. "You should be," he said looking at me carefully, his eyes coming to rest on my nearly exposed breasts. "Nice body. Nice rack, too." I managed to stammer a thanks, and searched the dark room for Tim. He was watching me with a big grin on his face. The fool nodded at me, actually encouraging me to tease the big black man..

"I don't have enough rhythm to be a dancer," I said. It wasn't at all true, but I was desperate for something to say.

"Nothing to it," Charles O'Dell said. "Pick a slow song, close your eyes and move with the music while taking your clothes off. I think you should enter the contest tonight. Might win five hundred bucks."

"No thanks," I said with a nervous laugh. "I'll just watch."

"Okay, but if you change your mind let me know. I own this place." He got up from the barstool. "Come on, I want to show you around."

I couldn't think of a reason not to. At least I couldn't think fast enough. In reality there were any number of reasons to get away from the man. I slid off the stool and followed him. We walked right passed Tim who watched us, still grinning like a fool. I gave him the finger and he grinned even more. Silly ass!

"This is the dressing room," Charles said, not bothering to knock. There were three or four women in various stages of undress. "We got a lot of costumes you could wear if you decide you want to give it a try. Hello ladies," he said to the women. "This is Suzanne. She's trying to make up her mind if she wants to dance or not."

None of the women looked over eighteen, except for one. She looked to be in her late twenties. She was the only one of them who had much of a figure.

"How old are those children?" II asked Charles.

"Got to be eighteen to dance nude," he said giving me a big grin. "So they're all eighteen or over."

"Back here," Charles said, taking my hand and leading me. "is my office and play room." The room consisted of a desk, a couple of worn chairs, an even more worn couch, and a bed.

Before I knew what was happening, I was in his embrace and he was kissing me while feeling my breasts. I'm sure I struggled, but it did no good. He continued to hold me and fondle me. If I did struggle, I soon gave up, and enjoyed what he was doing to me. I spread my legs so that he could also fondle my pussy after he pushed my shorts down. It wasn't something I thought about. I just did it. He had a couple of fingers inside of my abbreviated panties and was creating magic with me. I don't know how long he did it, or what would have happened if someone had not called out there was a fight in the club. He abruptly left me and hurried out of the office. I was nearly running when I went by Tim, yelling at him to come on.

 

Chapter 2

 

We talked about what had happened on the way home, and for several days after that. Tim would almost immediately get aroused when we talked about it. I spent many hours fantasizing about what Charles O'Dell had done to me, also. I find it difficult to describe Charles O'Dell. As I said he's big. Six feet two or three, I guess. Probably near three hundred pounds. His head is completely shaved and his face, while not handsome by any stretch, is rather attractive, except for the long jagged scar down one cheek. He has large hand and very large fingers. I certainly did remember the large fingers and what they did to me.

"Are we going to visit Timmy next weekend?" Tim asked me after we got home.

"Yes, but just Saturday morning. He has some function to attend the rest of the weekend," I answered. We were getting ready for bed.

"Think we need to check out O'Dell's place on the way back?"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"I don't think he's the type of man to take no for an answer. We lucked out last time, but we can't count on luck every time."

"Okay," Tim said. He was lying on the bed stroking his dick and smiling at me. "Don't say no, and you won't have a problem."

"Yeah right," I said joining him on the bed. I took his dick away from him and replaced his hand with my mouth. I've learned to watch for the small indications that he's about to come. When Tim is thinking about me, the prostitute, or me with another man he has a hair trigger. When I felt him tense up I took my mouth off of him. "It's just a fantasy isn't it, Tim?"

"Huh? What did you say?" His voice was strained.

"Me with another man. It's just something you fantasize about. You wouldn't really want it to happen would you?" He didn't answer for a few moments. When he did it surprised me.

"Sue," he said seriously. "What I want most in the world, is to hold your legs open and have a big dude shove his cock in you and fuck the hell out of you. I want to see your pussy crammed full of hard cock. I want to hear you scream out for him to fuck you. A big black cock by preference."

Well, that certainly shut me up. I was floored. Tim had never mentioned that fantasy, if it was indeed fantasy, to me before. We fooled around a while longer and Tim mounted me, gave a few hard thrusts and came. He realized that I hadn't got much satisfaction so he fingered me to a climax. It wasn't earth shaking, but it was better than being left high and dry. That was on Wednesday night.

Tim did much better on Thursday night. He was able to bring me to two nice climaxes. By Friday night Tim was back on his latest favorite topic.

"I guess you better pack a change for tomorrow," he said casually. "Maybe that hot pink skirt and little white top."

"Tim, I'm not sure about us stopping at that strip joint. I don't think it's a very good idea." I did have some serious mixed feeling about it. My better judgment told me to stay away, but there was a part of me wanting to explore it some more.

"I have a plan. This time we'll go in together. Maybe if he sees you with your husband, it will cool things down some." I didn't say anything, but I was pretty sure nothing could cool Charles O'Dell down once he got started. He just didn't strike me as a cool-down kind of man.

"Another thing," Tim said. "Why don't you enter the dance contest. You're ten times better looking than what I saw the last time we were there. Wouldn't you like to have five hundred bucks to spend on anything your heart desires?" That was pretty funny. Tim makes a lot of money at his own business. I have anything my heart desires anyway. However, I did like the idea of winning, because, as I've said, I've always been competitive.

Even though we didn't plan on being away over night, I always pack a small case with a couple of changes and my toilet items. I've found it always pays to plan on the unexpected. I held the small top and the skirt in my hand several moments before I put it in the case. I'm honest enough with myself to admit that I had a good time at O'Dell's when we were there. There was an exciting sense of adventure, or maybe it was flirting with unknown danger. Perhaps it was the big black man and all the taboo's associated with that. I was sure we'd end up there because once Tim got an idea in his head he was difficult to dissuade.

 

***

 

I had not paid that much attention to the people in O'Dell's place the previous time, but from what I remembered, it looked like the same people. The same or similar lifeless girl trying to dance, and the same bored looking bartender. The disk jockey looked stoned. We arrived much later then before, so there were more patrons. Some looked like they just came out of the hay field, and some were in business suits. There were a scattering of women customers in the place. From the fragmented conversations I could hear, some of them were there for the dance contest. Covertly I checked them out.

Unless one or more of them were hotshot dancers, I didn't have much to worry about. It was at that moment I realized I had already decided to enter the contest. Now I looked closer at the male patrons. These were the men I would be taking my clothes off for. These were the voters who would decide if I won or if I lost.

"I thought you were gone out of my life forever," a voice said. I looked up to see Charles O'Dell standing by our table. After stammering a time or two, I managed to introduce Tim to Charles. From the amused look on the big black man's face, I had overstressed the word husband. Charles and Tim shook hands and looked each other over. For a moment I thought they would have a pissing contest right there. "You going to dance for me tonight?" O'Dell asked me.

"I might," I answered, aware that Tim's head snapped around to look at me. "What exactly do I win?"

"If you win," Charles said with a crooked smile. "First prize is five hundred dollars cash and a job here anytime you want it. Second prize is two hundred-fifty and a job. Third prize is a hundred and..."

"A job," I finished for him. We all laughed. "What are the rules?" I asked.

"Not many. You can't take all your clothes off. You have to leave something on. That's the law. You do two dances. First dance is a teaser. Second dance you strip down and let the boys have a look. Then we bring all the contestants back and the audience votes by applause."

"No applause meter?" Tim inquired.

"Nope, I make the call, and nobody has objected so far. Don't figure they will. You come on back and pick your dance costume." Charles said to me. "They'll get picked over pretty quick."

"So what's the story?" Charles said to me when we reached the dressing room.

"I don't understand. What story?"

"Your hubby," Charles said. "He's going to let you dance nearly naked?"

"It is his idea," I answered.

"I see," Charles said slowly. "Pick that red one. It'll look good on you." The red outfit consisted of two bras and two panties, one smaller than the other. The object, Charles explained, was to slowly take off the top bra and then the top panties during the first dance. I would take the second bra off during the second dance.

"Don't get in too big of a hurry during the second dance." Charles told me. "Take your time showing them your tits. It's too bad that Wanda is here tonight. She's a crowd favorite, and she brings her own dance costume. She'll show as much of her ass and pussy as the law allows. They like that. Hell, second place ain't too shabby, Suzanne. You'll blow all the other girls away."

While I was changing, I got a good look at Wanda. A tall, nearly a six footer, with flaming red hair. She was a freakin' Amazon! One other girl looked like she may be some completion until I saw her boobs. Fake as a three dollar bill. They didn't even move when she did a couple practice moves. By luck of the draw, I was the last dancer. By the time it came my turn, I was a nervous wreck. My stomach was doing flip flops and my mouth was as dry as chips.

Charles asked me what I wanted for music and I told him I didn't care as long as it wasn't rap or too fast. He said he would pick out something for me. I had several drinks as I waited for my turn, but they weren't having a settling effect on me. Charles saw that I was nervous and he said to me, "Just go with the flow. You'll do fine."

I managed to get through the first dance without falling or making a fool out of myself. I was very aware that the applause I got wasn't anywhere as large as some of the others and especially the tall bitch. I watched the last dance from the wings, while gulping down a whiskey and coke.

Wanda was up, and I'll have to admit she was good. She had a lot of sensuous movement and the crotch of her costume was only held together by a few wispy threads. The bitch was going to win because she was showing her shaved pussy. I hurried back to the dressing room, grabbed a pair of scissors, and did some emergency alternations. I do not like to lose.

The music Charles selected was a deep throbbing bass drum with some other drums of some sort. Over the speakers I could feel the vibrations of the music as I began my final dance. I closed my eyes and just let the music guide me. At what I judged to be the half way point, I took the bra off in a slow teasing fashion. When it was completely off and my boobs were swaying and bouncing with the pounding drums I did a squat, my legs spread wide. As I expected, the material in the crotch split and my pussy was completely exposed to the leering, lustful gaze of the audience. The applause was thunderous. 'Take that, Wanda', I thought unable to hide my smile.

After my dance, we were all brought back and the judging began. I won! I was presented with a giant sized check for five hundred dollars and a certificate that stated that I was a dancer extraordinary. I spotted Tim, standing, waving, and shouting with the others, when Charles held his hand over my head.

"Take a stroll through the crowd," Charles said. "You'll pick up a few bucks in tips."

"Bare-breasted? In this?" I asked. I was still wearing the abbreviated panties with no crotch.

"Sure. Let the boys see you up-close and personal." Up-close and personal indeed. I was touched and groped by every male hand in the place. A couple of women felt obligated to touch my breasts, also. One forward fellow managed to get a finger in my pussy. By the time I made the circuit I was sizzling hot. Tim and Charles were waiting by the office. I had a fist full of singles and a few five dollar bills.

"Wow!" I said, reaching them. "That was something." Tim was literally beaming.

"Come on in the office," Charles said with a grin. "I'll get you a real check."

"Shouldn't I change first?"

"Naw, me and ol' Tim like to look. Don't we, Tim?"

"We sure do!" Tim said enthusiastically. "Honey, you were really hot up there on that stage. I'd bet a thousand bucks you wouldn't have done it."

I noticed that when Charles O'Dell closed the door, he locked it. He turned to me and reached out and pulled me to him.

"You are one hot Momma, honey," he said, feeling my breast. "How hot are you?"

"Very," I managed to say. "We need to hurry home, Tim." I looked around at him.

"No, you don't," Charles said running a large finger up my exposed moist slit. "I have exactly what you are looking for." He pulled my hand to his crotch. "Tim and I are going to fuck you right here and right now. You don't need to wait no longer for a fucking." He pulled me up close to him. I couldn't believe what I felt in his pants could be real. How wrong I was! When he released his manhood, I nearly fainted. It was monstrous! I didn't want to touch it, yet I did, and I couldn't let it go as Charles pushed me toward the bed. I looked at Tim, who was smiling at me.

"Go for it," Tim said softly. "Go with the flow, Sue." Those were the exact words that Charles used before I started dancing. Since I had snipped the crotch out of the panties there was not a lot standing between me and Charles. Charles handed me over to Tim who pulled the panties up around my waist. Charles was busy removing his clothes. His dick looked even larger not sticking out of his fly. Tim gently pushed me back until I had to lay down on the bed. He climbed up on the bed and held my legs open as Charles advanced. It was going to happen! I was going to have sex with a black man while my husband watched and helped him. My mind was a kaleidoscope of wild thoughts. None made any sense. It was a surreal situation. Almost as if it wasn't happening to me. Like I was standing beside the bed watching some other woman as a black man with a huge dick approached her.

Tim lifted my legs, raising my butt off the bed. Charles O'Dell was perfectly lined up and he pushed the head of his penis in and lunged forward shoving all his massive dick in me. I screamed. It wasn't because of pain, though there was a little bit. It was mostly shock. He completely filled me. It was a good thing that the groping and fondling I received had gotten me so well lubricated.

Charles let his dick rest in me for a few moments before he started humping me. With my mouth and eyes wide open, I looked up to see Tim looking down as the big black man thrust in and out of me. I had an almost immediate orgasm which was followed by another and another. Charles kept up his action for nearly twenty minutes before he shot a load of semen in me. When Charles withdrew from me, Tim took his turn. Tim didn't last very long, but it was long enough for Charles to recover and start again.

Charles rolled me over onto my knees and took me from behind. He lasted longer the second time, giving me a mind shattering series of climaxes. While Charles was screwing me doggy fashion, Tim got in front of me and presented his dick. I sucked him until he came in my mouth, and I swallowed his come which was unusual for me. Usually I just spit it out, but there wasn't a place for that.

Charles and Tim made love to me...no, that's not right. They fucked me for nearly three hours without a break. Charles did most of the fucking, but Tim held up pretty well. It was after two o'clock in the morning when Tim and I left the strip club. I was five hundred dollars richer and totally sexually satisfied. More so than I ever had been. It was on the way home that Tim told me that I had been set up.

"Sort of," he added. "I called O'Dell a couple of days ago. We had a nice talk and I told him if you danced, we would put a full court press on you. He was totally in agreement with the deal, but that's not surprising. You aren't pissed are you?"

"Ahhh, Tim," I said leaning my head back and closing my eyes. "I'm not sure. I'll have to get back to you on that." It's hard to be angry when your pussy...your whole body is tingling.