My husband had some parting advice for me before he went out of town on business. I was wondering out loud what I should do while he was away. Obviously anxious to get going, Rick hurriedly said: “I don’t know. Go see some male strippers.”

I love Rick, always will, but I knew part of his eagerness to take this trip was to get away from me. Marriages, even good ones, build up static electricity and annoying background noise over time. Sometimes the two parties need to have time apart, to reset and regroup.

He was going away with his friend and business partner, Derek. Derek was married to a woman named Gwen. We four had spent time together, socializing and having barbecues. Rick and Derek were tight — a “bros forever” kind of thing — but while I was on friendly terms with Gwen, we’d never been exactly close.

With the place to myself and silence settling in, I decided to touch base with her. Gwen was a go-getter, though, and I figured she would have plenty on her plate, even with Derek gone. Compared to her, I was definitely the quiet type.

I was going to text her, but I phoned instead. To my surprise, she picked right up.

“Talia! How nice. What’re you up to? I’m already bored out of my gourd. Want to do something tonight?”

It took me a few seconds to catch up with her words. I hadn’t expected such a response. I almost told her I’d just called to check in, that I wasn’t really up for anything. But that seemed stupid. It had been ages since I’d last gone out on the town without Rick.

“I’d love to do something.”

“Any ideas?” Gwen asked.

A bell went off in my head, and I replied, “Rick suggested I go see male strippers. I know he was just being a smart-ass, but what about that?” I couldn’t believe my boldness. Needless to say, I had never seen male strippers in the flesh in my entire life.

“That sounds awesome!” she crowed.

With that, there was no turning back. Gwen found a club in the city where guys got on stage and peeled it all off for the ladies. I got myself ready for the evening’s adventure. My nervousness turned into anxiety, then a little bit of panic. I wondered what the hell was I doing. Rick surely had been joking. He’d likely be shocked to know I was out ogling some other dude’s jiggling junk.

Then again, it had been his idea. And as much as he needed a break from me, I needed one from him. That night would surely recalibrate my emotional state and get me ready to take up my marriage once again with full wifely vigor.

When we got to the club, it was noisy, crowded and vibing with a kind of shrill desperation. Gwen and I jostled our way to the front. Harsh spotlights were aimed at the stage, where a lanky and not particularly attractive dude was trying to keep rhythm with the pounding soundtrack.

Around us, women shrieked with what seemed like fake glee. Eyes wide and mouths open, they ranged in age from early 20s to middle-aged. Many had put on what was likely their naughtiest clothes — lots of leather minis and tight bustiers. But a sense of fraudulence persisted.

Nothing on stage warranted their outpouring of merriment. However, these women were determined to be “bad girls” for the night. I couldn’t really begrudge them. Gwen and I were kinda doing the same thing.

The crowding had me jammed right up against Gwen. From the first time I’d met her, I had thought her quite lovely. She had a fine face, pert breasts and a generally attractive figure. Once I’d remarked on this to Rick. He’d shrugged and said, “Gwen looks a lot like you, babe. Derek has said so, too.” I had blushed at the compliment.

We were forced to buy drinks as part of our admission. I sipped something grossly overpriced and oversweetened. A duo of men came onstage and gyrated, flinging away specially designed clothing until, like the first dancer, they were down to jockstraps. The pair spun around, exposing the firm globes of their bare asses.

The women continued to bray like they were watching a cage match. I felt a little embarrassed for them. A trio danced, showing a little more skill. Finally, for the finale, a half dozen buffed males trouped out before us and launched into an elaborate routine. They were — to my taste — too muscled, with swollen pecs and washboard abs that didn’t even look real.

They went down to jockstraps, then, after a big build-up, tossed those away and danced buck-naked for the audience’s delight. Limp cocks dangled and bobbed under the glaring lights.

“Well,” Gwen said in my ear, “if they can’t be bothered to get hard-ons, don’t expect me to.” I laughed raucously. She added, “Let’s get out of here.” I gratefully fled with her.

It was still early, and I was enjoying Gwen’s company.

“I’m not ready to call it a night,” I admitted.

“Me either. Hey! I’ve got an idea.”

Her idea was this: We go to another strip club, but one where women danced. That struck me as just the right kind of decadence.

I halfway expected we would be turned away at the door or that the clientele would be affronted by our presence. But the doorman ushered us in with a smile. The waitresses fawned over us, and a table of businessmen immediately bought us a round of drinks.

The club was professionally run and had comfortable spaces for the patrons. The music wasn’t ear-splitting, and the air-conditioning kept the temperature pleasantly even.

Two women were dancing onstage, but they were categorically more talented than any of the lunky men we’d witnessed earlier. The pole princesses spun and floated, using their gorgeous bodies to trace fine erotic physical art through the air. It was almost like ballet. Granted, both girls were down to G-strings, and they routinely thrust their naked breasts toward the crowd, but they were a lovely sight.

“This was a great idea,” I said, smiling at Gwen. I felt a connection to her that hadn’t been there before. I believed she was now someone I could truly call a friend.

She returned the grin. Her face was a little flushed. She said, “That girl on the right — damn she’s hot! What do you think?”

I thought both dancers were pretty. But I sensed a tone in Gwen’s question — something a bit raw, maybe even a tad dangerous. She seemed to be asking if the stripper turned me on!

“She’s, uh, cute,” I confessed, somewhat nervously.

Gwen barked a laugh and told me, “Tits like those aren’t just cute. They’re phenomenal. They deserve to be sucked and nibbled on.” Gwen’s face blazed brighter. “I’ll bet her pussy tastes like nectar.”

I gasped. Gwen was coming out to me, and I wondered if her husband knew about her proclivities. I was suddenly all aflutter. Confusion and a strange unexpected excitement passed through me like a fever chill.

Gwen put her hand atop mine and confided, “Before Derek left town with your husband, he told me: ‘Gwen, if you’re feeling any of those lesbian urges I know you get, feel free to indulge them.’”

My jaw dropped. Their marital arrangement seemed outrageous to me. Yet at the same time it was completely logical and practical. I had just had no previous clue about Gwen’s sexual appetites.

Her warm hand was still resting on mine. A peculiar heat was licking up through me. In my head, there came images of Gwen and her favored dancer, naked and writhing together. I’d never done anything sexual with another woman, but in that moment I could vividly envision the lusty particulars. They would suck and lick and finger one another…

“Talia, would you like to come home with me?” Gwen asked. “We don’t have to do anything. But, well, I would really like to strip for you.”

Our crazy night just kept getting wilder!

Gwen’s offer hung between us. My heart beat fast, and my breath came in short pants. In those fraught urgent seconds, I made my momentous decision.

“I’d like that,” I said, and then we left.

I’d been to her and Derek’s place many times. I’d even briefly stepped inside their bedroom, but never in an erotic situation. The air was charged. I moved as if in a daze. At the same time, I was keenly aware of everything, especially the stunning seductress who led me into the room and shut the door behind us.

“Sit,” she said, pointing to the bed. I silently obeyed. My throat was tight.

Gwen thumbed up a playlist on her phone. Music started thumping out of speakers in the bedroom. She got into a pose, still in the black dress and heels she’d gone clubbing in. She shot me a look, her eyes glittering with dark fire. Her lips were pursed. An intense physical confidence radiated from her, even before her first move.

Suddenly, she went twirling. Her moves were lithe, and the hem of her dress rose as she spun. She worked her limbs and rocked her hips. She kept perfect balance in her heels. I’d had no idea she could dance like that.

She unfastened the back of the dress with a motion that looked like part of her routine. She rolled her shoulders, and the fabric slid free, spilling down her back and arms. With another graceful movement, the black dress was around her waist. She did a neat bump and grind, and it slid down her legs. She stepped nimbly out of the crumpled fabric.

Underneath her dress, she was done up in sexy lingerie — the whole bit, stockings, garters and sheer panties. She looked like some erotic fantasy. She danced on, flowing with the music. With a magical flick of her hand, she snapped off her bra and tossed it into a corner. Her breasts were full, tipped with dark pink nipples.

She ran her hands up her body, cupping her lush tits. She lowered her head and flicked her tongue tip over her stiffened buds. She shot me another look, and the hunger in her eyes was palpable.

After another few minutes of this sexy display, she kicked off her heels, peeled away the garters and stockings, and lost the panties. Now, she was pirouetting and whirling about in her birthday suit. Her ass was ripe and lovely, her legs were shapely, and her pussy lips gleamed with dampness.

Gwen slowed, then stopped. Her hand went between her legs. She began to finger herself as she kept her eyes fastened on me. I gave a soft cry, then raked up my skirt and yanked aside my panties. There was no denying I was thoroughly turned on. My inexperience with women seemed unimportant. Gwen had stripped for me and successfully aroused me.

Shamelessly, I plunged two fingers into myself. We masturbated, watching each other. Pleasure flamed all over me, and my erotic joy was definitely enhanced by Gwen’s presence. I drank in the sensual sight of her. I was moved that she’d gone to such effort for me.

“Oh,” I gasped. “Oh! Oh!” Suddenly, I was coming. Gwen frigged herself harder and joined me in orgasmic solidarity.

I realized that I could just end things there. Gwen made no move, but the night still felt young. A vast erotic landscape was ours to explore. I stood from the bed and undressed. Gwen’s eyes roamed over my body. I stepped close to her. She took my hand, brought my damp fingers to her mouth and sucked them clean.

I did the same for her, and experienced the first thrilling taste of another woman in my mouth. There was no going back now.

Before we got onto the bed together, we kissed. Locked in an embrace, we pressed our lips together. Without any hurry or aggression, our tongues touched, sweetly and delicately. It was my first real kiss with another woman. It was so beautiful; I wished it could be put under glass, so I could cherish it forever.

Afterward, we fairly flung ourselves onto the mattress. We wrapped our arms around one another and french-kissed like fiends while our hands roamed wildly.

Gwen stroked her hands along my curves as our tongues tangled. For my part, I lavished attention on her tits, stroking her breasts and tweaking her nipples. The harder I pinched, the more she moaned appreciatively.

Her groping hand strayed between the valley of my ass cheeks, and her fingertips grazed my backdoor. I yelped, but even I could hear the delight in my voice. Gwen gave my nether hole another brief caress with her fingers.

If I’d had any misgivings about the mechanics of woman-on-woman sex, my instincts came to the rescue. Everything we did seemed right. We ground ourselves together, and the feel of her smooth, soft body against mine was heavenly. She reached between my legs, and I reached between hers, and the fact that there was no cock there didn’t bother me in the least.

I trailed two fingers over her already damp lips. She teased my folds with a knowing touch. When we weren’t kissing, we were panting and grinning at each other. At the same instant, we each plunged inside the other’s pussy.

I sank two fingers into her. Gwen speared me with what felt like three, which brought a happy cry to my lips. She penetrated me up to her knuckles and twisted her digits. Pleasure erupted within me. I went deep with her as well, feeling the sweet slippery clench of her around my intruding fingers.

She went for my clit with her thumb, and my body bucked. I followed suit and teased her swollen bud. I certainly knew my own anatomy, so hers wasn’t unfamiliar territory. But how wonderful to be bringing immediate and intense pleasure to another woman and knowing exactly what the process was.

We each polished the other’s button until a climactic frenzy started in Gwen and spilled over onto me, like we were connected electrically. I jerked and she writhed, and we came together amid our glorious pussy-fingering.

As I came down from my golden peak, I knew what would happen next. The next logical step. Gwen, the experienced one, would go down on me. But a sudden impulse seized me. I wanted to show her how into this I was.

I squirmed my way backward down the bed. I pushed open her legs and slipped between them. Her inner thighs were impossibly smooth — like satin. I breathed in her excited aroma. I’d made this woman come with my fingers. Now, it was time to do it with my mouth.

My face hovered over her pussy. I hesitated, but it wasn’t doubt that stopped me. I was simply appreciating the enormity of the moment. That night would change me. I was having sex with someone other than my husband for the first time since I’d taken my marriage vows. And I was having sex with a woman for the first time ever.

Gwen lifted her head to look down at me, maybe to say something, but I made sure she didn’t get the chance. I put out my tongue and gave her dripping cleft a long, lustful swipe. I licked her from south to north, then went back the other way, parting her slick lips with my tongue and lapping up her copious honey.

Her hips jerked, which pushed her pussy hard against my face. Her juices were smeared all over my lips, cheeks and chin. I savored the scent of her. I stabbed my tongue deeper into her. A ragged cry came from her, which told me I was on the right track.

Her pelvis rocked, and her thighs closed against my shoulders. She wriggled on the mattress. When I revisited her clit, she reached down and gasped, “Fuck yes!” As I sent her into a fit of sexual bliss, she grabbed hold of my hair and humped my face.

Her cry rose in pitch until her juices just about flooded my mouth. When I sat up, I felt thoroughly glazed with her honey.

Gwen pushed upward, looking giddy, and licked her sauce off my lips before lapping at my breasts. Bolts of new pleasure hit me. I remembered her rhapsodizing about the tits of one of the female strippers. But that seemed in the distant past. We’d come so far since then.

She set me onto my back and spread my legs. With urgent purpose in her eyes, she lay down between my thighs. Her mouth floated just above my exposed pussy. I felt her breath on my slick slit. She dropped her face, and her tongue went to work.

Rick gives fantastic head, but I have to say, Gwen ate me like nobody’s business!

It was incredible what she did with her tongue. She flicked it over every sensitive centimeter, eliciting countless brand-new sensations. Soon I was thrashing about, but she laid her arms over my spread-open thighs to hold me in place.

She was merciless in her delivery of pleasure. My head whipped back and forth, my hair flying and the room blurring.

When she zeroed in on my clit, I thought I’d be overwhelmed by my bliss. The intensity was off the charts. When my climax came, she didn’t relent. She continued to attack my clit, and my orgasm was followed by another and another. The ecstasy mixed together in one long stretch of sensual joy.

After some undetermined time, she came up and looked me over with a smile of wicked satisfaction on her pretty face. I groaned, driven senseless. I felt as if I might be afloat forever. But she whispered, “Bonus time.”

Then she skillfully flipped my body over onto my stomach.

I didn’t know what was happening until she spread my ass cheeks and proceeded to lick my asshole. It was an experience like no other.

Finally, we were nuzzling each other, lying limply together.

“I want to do this again,” she murmured. “But if we continue, we eventually have to tell our husbands.”

I gathered Derek wouldn’t mind. But I wondered out loud about Rick.

Nonplussed, Gwen replied, “We’ll just do a fourway.”

That sounded delightful to me. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait for the boys to get home!