To Mitch, watching his wife strip onstage for other men is trumped only by watching her fuck them.

That night, everyone was watching my wife. Every man in the room had his eyes on Sally. Every dick in the building was as hard as marble because of her. You see, my wife is a stripper, and when she’s working the pole — so to speak — she captures even the most jaded customer’s attention.

Sally paraded across the stage wearing a formfitting tuxedo, her long russet-brown hair up on the top of her head, a few curls spiraling free. She slowly and sensually peeled out of her outfit, piece by piece. I could hear the collective gasps when she tossed aside her black satin jacket to reveal the faux shirt beneath, a ruffle of white that she easily discarded to showcase her breasts.

Some men would have a difficult time being married to a wife as beautiful as Sally. She turns heads when she’s in the grocery store, wearing her sweats and a favorite t-shirt. She is captivating when she’s gardening in our front yard, clad in a simple gingham sundress. At the beach, she is the focus of every surfer in the area. I’ve even caught women checking her out.

But when she’s on stage, she is incendiary.

The thing is, I get off watching her. Not only while she’s on the clock, but all the time. I like observing other men watching her. I appreciate the way she looks when she knows I’m there. I believe she does certain things just for me. The way she tilts her head, purses her lips, bends over. Sure, she does those things for the men who slip dollar bills into her panties, but her eyes light up for me in a special way.

We have a bond. I know I’m hers forever.

We didn’t hook up at the club. In fact, if someone had told Sally when we met that one day she’d be onstage, I think she would have laughed. Yes, she enjoyed rocking her body at dance clubs, but she was no professional. I was the one who suggested that Sally get a job at the high-end, high-caliber strip club where she works now. What became her job began as a whim. She had gone to a stripper class at her gym, giggling about how silly it was that executive women were paying good money to learn how to work their bodies like pole dancers.

I was all for it.

Turned out that what she tried on a lark with a friend was something she immediately fell in love with. She arrived home that first day so excited, her mahogany eyes gleaming, her body still shining with sweat. As she removed her damp workout gear, she gushed to me about her experience.

“You should have seen me, Mitch,” she cooed as she stepped into the shower. I stared through the sheer curtain as she washed herself, as she soaped her lovely limbs all over and then rinsed herself clean. I wondered if Sally had any clue of what watching her did to me. I was painfully aware of how erect I’d grown while she rotated under the spray. When I could wait no longer, I took off my clothes and got into the shower with her. While she described her class, I slipped two fingers into her snatch and began to finger her. Sally shut her eyes and let me manhandle her while she told me what a thrill the class had been. She talked until I started fucking her against the wall, doing my best to picture every frame.

“I was good, Mitch,” she said as I thrust my body against hers.

“I’m sure you were.”

“Like, really, really good,” she added.

I made sure to rub her clit while I stroked my cock in and out of her slippery pussy. I imagined what Sally looked like in her class, gyrating her lithe body to a rhythmic beat. But it wasn’t so much the concept of her stripping as the vision of me watching that took me to my finish. Still, I didn’t tell that to Sally, who came a beat after me, grinding her hips against my body as she squeezed out every last drop of pleasure.

Sally attended a full session of stripper classes at the gym, and we screwed ourselves into a frenzy after every one. In bed the night after the last class, she made a confession to me. She wanted a stripper pole at home. “ We don’t use the rec room for much of anything,” she pointed out. “Would it be so crazy to have one installed?”

“Define &lsqup;crazy,’” I teased her, but I knew right then that I’d be looking up a how-to video online that weekend. It didn’t take much effort to install the thing — I’m a carpenter, and I asked one of my buddies over to help. The results were even more spectacular to our already sizzling sex life. Sally couldn’t wait to show me her routine, and after that, we spent quite a bit of time in the rec room — her stripping, me watching, and us fucking.

That might have been that. We might have gone on our merry way forever with this new added thrill to our sex life — until Sally came up with the idea to invite people over to watch.

“People?” I asked her, curious. At first, I honestly had no idea what she was hinting at.

“You know,” she said, and she sounded slightly abashed, which is unlike my Sally. &ldqou;Your friends,” she said, and she locked eyes on me until I fully understood what she was requesting. Sally, my sweet, sultry wife, wanted my guy friends to come over and watch her work her new pole. Sally wanted men to see her as she performed her salacious routine.

I was shocked; I have to admit that. At the time, Sally was manager of a local bar and grill. She didn’t love her job, but she didn’t hate it. Basically, she had a job, like most people. While we might have enjoyed a few kinks between the sheets, we’d never explored our erotic sides with anyone else. And there she was, asking me how I’d feel if some of my buddies came over to watch her strip.

How did I feel? Well, I felt great.

“What do you think, Mitch?” she asked, her voice quavering.

“I think it’s a fabulous idea,” I told her truthfully, and I kissed her to calm her nerves. I wanted to tell her right then that I had nurtured a fantasy for years of watching her with another man, but I held my tongue. I was going to take things slowly, at her pace. She wanted to dance for a roomful of my closest friends. That seemed as if we were on the right path to me.

We set the date for the following Saturday night. I didn’t ask any married guys, only a handful of buddies from work who I knew would be excited at the prospect. And boy, were they ever. Jonah arrived half an hour early, clearly unable to stay away.

“Sally’s going to put on a show. Is that right?” he asked as I led him downstairs to the refurbished basement. When he saw the stripper pole, he stopped and looked at me. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he asked.

I nodded. The doorbell rang then, and I went to let in another guest. My best friend Bruce was much less obvious about his excitement. He handed me a six-pack and followed me down the stairs. He’d helped me install the pole, so he knew at least a little bit about what to expect. He hadn’t said a judgmental word as we’d fixed the pole in place, but he’d looked at Sally differently when she’d brought us iced teas halfway through the job. His eyes had told me he knew Sally was a dirty girl.

When all five of the guys I’d invited arrived, I told Sally we were ready. I couldn’t believe how confident she was. I would have thought she might have been a little nervous about disrobing for a room of guys. No way. Sally strode in, put on the music, and began to perform. In a few minutes, I think the guys had forgotten it was my wife working the pole. There were hoots and hollers, catcalls and wolf whistles.

When she took off her top, the atmosphere in the room seemed to change — the air around us growing warmer and heavier. Sally tossed the little bit of glittery fabric to Bruce, who caught her top and held it up to his face. He didn’t seem to mind that I was watching him. Sally met my eyes next, and I could tell she was asking me a silent question. I nodded, and Sally gracefully slid out of her panties. These she tossed to me.

The rest of the performance was done in a room of men who each wanted to fuck my wife. Maybe they had come to the house out of curiosity, but now, no question about it, every man in the room nursed the desire to fuck Sally.

She put on a show that left her drenched from exertion. Then she slid into a short satin robe, grabbed a beer and sat down, drinking in both the alcohol and the praise and compliments from my friends. Most of the men realized that this was the end of the evening. It wasn’t as if I’d invited the boys over for a gang bang. They politely drank their beers and went on their way.

Only Bruce stayed after the rest of them had left. He lingered, talking to Sally. He didn’t make a move, but he didn’t leave, either. Sally sat across from the two of us, drinking her imported brew and toying with the sash on the waist of her robe. When she casually flicked the bow and the robe fell open, Bruce reached out a hand and cupped one of her tits. Sally leaned her head back against the wall and sighed. She parted her legs. Her body was so fine, revealed as the robe parted.

Bruce said, “You good with this, man?” That’s all he had to say. That’s all he had to ask. I nodded, and I watched him go on his knees in front of our old leather sofa and put one big hand on the inside of each of Sally’s thighs. I was so excited I could hardly breathe. I wondered if Sally knew what this little scene was doing to me. It was as if every fantasy I’d ever had was coming true.

Bruce held her open like that, and he took a moment to simply admire her pretty pussy. Sally keeps her nether regions shaved completely bare. My best friend hesitated for a moment, and then he leaned forward and planted a wet kiss right at the top of her pubic bone. Sally keened under her breath and raised her hips. Bruce gripped her waist to hold her where he wanted her, and then he began to lick her split. Sally twined her fingers in Bruce’s blond curls, and she whispered his name. Bruce seemed to like that, and he continued to lick and nibble Sally’s puss until she came, bucking against his mouth, shivering all over with the power of the climax.

That was the sum total of the foreplay for Bruce. He stood and undressed and then lay down on our floor. Sally understood what he wanted, and she settled herself down on his pole. The next person who moaned wasn’t Sally or Bruce. I couldn’t help myself. The sound I made was guttural and intense. My wife was riding my best friend in the world. I felt as if I had walked right onto the set of an x-rated movie.

When Sally pulled up on Bruce’s cock, I saw how shiny and wet she’d left his rod. She was so turned on. I wanted to touch her wetness, to trail my fingers through it, but Bruce’s dick was there instead. I got closer to the couple. I knew Sally wouldn’t mind. I met Bruce’s eyes, and he didn’t seem too concerned to find me right next to them. Sally slid down again, and then she pumped right back up. Bruce put his hands out and started to palm her breasts. Sally tossed her hair, and a tremor ran through her. I had the impulse again to touch the place where she and Bruce were joined, but this time, I didn’t deny myself. I got behind the couple and began to stroke their juncture.

Christ, he was hard. And she was wet. I let Sally feel my fingertips nudging her, and I even took a moment to tickle her asshole. Then Bruce said, “I’m going to shoot,” and Sally pulled off, and we all watched the geyser that was Bruce’s come rocket out of him.

After that, Bruce cleaned up in our powder room, gave us a kind of shy smile for a man of his stature, and left. I wondered how he and I would interact on the next job site. But I didn’t really care. What had happened that night opened a new door for my wife and me. Sally and I couldn’t be stopped after that.

Once Bruce had left, I fucked Sally in the rec room. I had her every which way, and she cried out as her sweet body was shaken by multiple orgasms. I told her that the next time she fucked another man, I wanted him to come inside her. I wanted to feel his jism surround my own dick. Sally seemed to like my sloppy-seconds fantasy. I wondered why I had never confessed these thoughts to her before. Maybe because I thought she would judge me. How lucky I was that Sally seemed perfectly happy to make each one of my filthy desires come true.

She went in search of a stripping job the next week. Well, first she and I did our reconnaissance work. We went together to a few different clubs to see how the girls acted and to get a good feel for the locations. Then she entered several amateur-night competitions, and she knocked each audience for a loop. When Sally found her dream club, she auditioned. I knew she’d get the job — and she did. She quit working at the restaurant, and our life took on a whole new level of excitement.

Which brings us to last night, when I went to see Sally at work. I don’t always go. Sometimes I wait for her at home, and she tells me the story of the evening’s events. But at least a few times a week, I watch her in action. Last night, I went to see her, and I brought Bruce along with me. I knew she was thinking about our first night together because she put on a show to end all other shows. She had everybody’s attention in the room — especially Bruce’s and mine.

At the end of the evening, she put her street clothes back on and met the two of us in the parking lot. Sally got into the truck between Bruce and me. He set his hand on one of her thighs, and I set my hand on the other. This evening was going to be even more intoxicating than the previous one we’d shared.

Back home, we didn’t bother with drinks or casual chitchat. We went right to our bedroom. Sally stripped out of her clothes and lay down on our bed. Bruce looked at me as if waiting for some ground rules. I didn’t have anything to say. I sat in the chair in the corner of the room, and I motioned for him to do what came naturally to him. He discarded his own clothes and joined Sally. This time, they took things slow — at least, as slow as they could.

Sally, my greedy bride, went for Bruce’s dick to start things off. She got into a position where I could see her mouth as she worked up and down. I felt my heart racing in a way it never had before. Yeah, she had fucked Bruce in our rec room. But that had been too fast for me. It had been almost a blur.

This was real. This was slow. This was what I’d always wanted, always hoped for. Sally parted her pink lips and gave my best buddy a messy blowjob that had Bruce moaning and petting her hair. He seemed as if he couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Him and me both, man. Sally didn’t hold back. She became bolder with every lick of his dick, every bob of her head. She even took a few seconds to lap at his balls, and he locked eyes with me then as if to say, “You are one lucky son of a bitch.”

Don’t I know it.

Sally squirmed around on the mattress, and when she parted her legs, I could see the moisture gathering on her nether lips. Bruce was turning her on. Or maybe sucking him in front of me was turning her on. Whatever the true reason, Sally’s honey was flowing freely. She actually straddled one of Bruce’s thick thighs and began to hump against him as if she couldn’t help herself.

“You want something between your legs?” Bruce asked softly. “I can hook you up, baby girl.”

Then he took charge for a little bit, flipping my pretty Sally onto her back and mounting her missionary style. Sally tossed her head back and forth as Bruce thrust his cock inside her. I had to change positions at this point because I wanted to see more. I got closer to the bed, and Sally reached out to me. I found myself holding her hand while Bruce reamed her. There was something touching to me in the way we were connected, as if Sally wanted to be close to me while my best friend fucked her. Our wedding rings clicked together as I gripped her hand, and then we came apart as Bruce began to slam even harder inside her.

Sally started to moan at the intensity of his thrusts. Bruce was really screwing her good. I moved to the other side, so I could watch from a new vantage point. Bruce met my eyes, and he gave me a little wry smile. It was obvious he knew exactly how aroused their workout was making me. He and I would never speak about this night when we were on a work site. We’d never discuss Sally’s luscious pussy over sandwiches on our lunch breaks. But we had a connection as well. The three of us were bonded by our desires — Sally’s to be taken by my best friend, Bruce’s to fuck Sally to new heights — and mine, to watch every single moment.

When Bruce got close, he flipped her over so that she was on her hands and knees. I couldn’t help myself. I started to toggle her clit as he worked her. Sally’s wordless moans grew even louder in response to the ministrations of my fingers on her hot button. I felt her come, and I felt the swell of juices trickle from her font. Bruce followed a beat later, climaxing and filling her up with his seed.

He pulled out and kissed the back of Sally’s neck. Then he dressed, mumbled something about seeing me on Monday, and left us alone.

Now my wish was actually coming true. At Sally’s gesture, I got out of my clothes and joined her on the bed. I fucked her the way I’d always fantasized, my cock bathed in the seed left by another man. I could hardly manage ten full strokes before I came inside my wife, giving her every last dewdrop of my pleasure.

My love for my sexy wife is all encompassing and all powering. She strips me down to the very base of my being and leaves me open, electrified, and always wanting more.

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