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I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’ve been off-the-rails horny for weeks. I don’t mean, “I want sex,” kind of horny; I mean constantly dripping, everything makes me need an orgasm, no matter how much I get, I need more kind of horny. This is partially because my boyfriend is so wonderful; partially because my friends are so wild that I’m the prurient, conservative one. Part of it is growing up with hippie, swinging parents that embraced and celebrated sexuality. Most of all, my problem is me. I finally have everything I’ve ever dreamed of and the freedom and support to indulge my primal impulses. Pandora’s slutty box has been opened.There’s no drug so addictive as being celebrated for being slutty and crazy, no greater pleasure than being rewarded for going insane with lust. I’ve become a lust-glutton; that’s two deadly sins for the price of one. While my journey began the moment I met Glade, my boyfriend, I think the straw that broke the bimbo’s back was when I took him to the strip club a few weeks ago. If anything gave me the green light, it was our visit to the red light district.I forget exactly why I decided to surprise him. I think that either I was going emotionally insane or he had just been so perfect, which he always is, that I wanted to do something special. I do recall being so horny that I masturbated constantly all day, trying to think of something crazy-special. I wanted to get him so turned on that he’d rip off my clothes and pound me hard and fast, releasing gallons of cum into me, on me, all over me. Just the thought of it had me so wet that I was fucking myself with everything around his house. My toys, kitchen utensils, tools, you name it; anything vaguely phallic was tested for pleasure, sometimes more than once.Hired guns, paid, by me, to get him all worked up, seemed, at the time, to be a perfect idea. Young, nubile, limber, and sexy bodies grinding on him, while I watched, seemed like a stroke of genius. They make their living selling the promiscuous, sex-kitten vibe. I’d dress to thrill, tip them enough to give him “extra special” attention, and he’d be putty in my hands. I gave out a maniacal laugh as I fingered myself to the thought of my nefarious plan.I’m not sexually naive, but I’m not exactly the type of woman that hangs out in strip clubs. I seldom ever watch porn. I have, however, been to a strip club a few times in my life. I knew what to expect.The important thing was to dress and act in such a fashion that allowed me to compete with professional sluts. Not that strippers are sluts, mind you, but that is the packaging and the sales pitch; the fantasy is the product. Rather than try to match them, point-for-point, I went with a softer, more natural, slutty vibe.Teasing my hair into soft, flowing, draping curls, I got my hair just perfect. Heavy base foundation, covering my freckles because they’d stand out like mud specks in the mood lighting, was a smooth canvas for my warpaint. Dark, blood-red lips, outlined in black, with just a hint of deep charcoal blush accenting my cheekbones, and dark, smoky eye shadow, with lots of mascara, made me look like a flame-haired sexpot. Not bothering to shower despite my day-long masturbation marathon, I pulled one of the oldest tricks in the books.Running my hands over my sopping pussy until they were soaked, I rubbed my sex juices all over my body. The nape of my neck, my cleavage, and my forearms got second and third doses of my liquid sex. Covering my copulins with just a bit of musk made me smell like I just fucked the entire Trojan army, instant sex-appeal for manly men and, surprisingly, women. I covered my nudity Demetevler Escort with a pale green, stonewashed, cotton dress. It was a bodice dress with a zig-zag pixie hem, stopping a few inches above my knees.The jagged hem had plenty of gaps, all of them allowing my bare thighs to show when I walked or sat. The color matched my moss-green eyes well, and it was almost the perfectly complimentary color to offset my hair. The bodice-top portion allowed me to tighten or loosen it as I saw fit with front ties and a waist cinch. Tight in the waist, to show off the roundness of my ass from behind, and loose up top, so I could jiggle and bend with my too-small breasts appearing to be much larger and more round than they are, finished up my wardrobe. Simple flats shod my feet. Even that bitch in the mirror thought I looked hot.Both looking and smelling like sex unleashed, I finished up the preparations. Where I live, the all-nude strip clubs are bring-your-own-bottle. I chose four bottles of honeyed wine, infused with green herbals as a kicker. Feeling nervous about what I had planned, I also ate a few herbal green edibles. Yes, I can go sexually crazy, but sometimes I like the carefree, tingling that accompanies such recreationals to enhance the mood.Saying he was surprised when he got home is the understatement of the century. By the time he opened the door, I had worked myself up into a sexual frenzy that eclipsed my previous state. I was splayed out on the couch, my dress pulled up, moaning like the slut I am, with my favorite purple double-headed dildo, called Barney, buried in each hole as I fingered my clit.I didn’t even stop masturbating when he came in. “Hi, aaah, honey, mmm, are you, ah, fuck, I’m going to cum again, ready to go out?”Pulling Barney out of my swollen, heated cunt, licking my cum off of it, I made a show of moaning and fingering myself until I had licked it clean. Springing up, giving him a big, wet, passionate kiss, I pulled him out the door. He was dressed in a deep purple, satiny button-down, tapered to show off that inverted triangle body of his, and loose, pleated slacks. He was clean, smelled like a magical forest, and so devastatingly handsome that he didn’t need to change. A not-so-quick drive into, then across, town, and we were at our destination. It was a weeknight; there were very few cars in the parking lot.Popping yet another edible, leaving him to grab the bottles, I skipped towards the door. The strip club was a low, squat single-story brick building with a small awning. The interior was a decent attempt at low-brow class. Emerald-painted half-walls, emerald full walls with foiled accenting and trim, and white-lined stages dominated the place. The mood lighting was dark with a predominance of black-lighting, giving everything a sexy glow. Dark carpet and a long bar finished off the interior. There were a few rows of tables, lots of chairs up near the stage, which featured a catwalk-style outcropping, and some booths lining the back walls. A lithe, buxom black woman with legs like ebony pillars was finishing up her set.Near the bar, on my left, sat a group of three men in business attire. They looked at me excitedly as I paid the door person, who looked like a dancer, and asked for fifty ones. Their looks turned to disappointment when they realized that I was a patron, not a dancer. Two younger men, college-age, sat against the stage, obviously drunk but loudly behaving themselves.I chose a small booth up against the far wall on my right. It was set back from the main floor, far enough that nobody Otele Gelen Escort would be leering at me if I didn’t want them to. There was a half-wall that separated the booth from the rest of the place on the near side, concealing below-the-waist activity from all but whoever was on the stage. The far side of the booth was partitioned off by a small doorway, arched and covered by a pair of black, velvet curtains. I later learned that it led to the private dance area.The booth was a semi-circle of puffy, comfortable vinyl with a high back, perfect for lounging. The table was bolted to the floor almost two feet away. I couldn’t recline into the soft back of the booth and comfortably reach the table. If I wanted to lay my hands on the surprisingly-clean table, I needed to “scooch” way forward. I could use this to my advantage.A quick experiment demonstrated that I could let my back recline against the back of the booth while moving my hips forward, all under the guise of trying to reach the table. This allowed my legs to spread invitingly. I could “accidentally” show my lack of panties quite easily. Naughty potentials danced in my mind.The manager, a blond woman seeming to be in her forties with huge breasts and a fake tan that glowed in the light, was tending bar and trading shots with a cute little brunette dancer. Glade went to the bar to pay for some cups. You bring in your own booze but need to buy the cups and ice from them.Watching him from behind, as he leisurely strolled toward the bar, hinted that my task would be easy. The manager eyed him up; the woman manning the door eyed him up and down; the sexy black dancer paused in her efforts to collect her tip-dollars and then put on her sexy smile and strutted herself over to him. I saw him smile at her, her laughing and touching him, then he shook his head to the negative and pointed at me. I smiled and waved.He quickly returned. Stopping before our booth, complimenting me on how amazing I looked, he seated himself directly beside me, allowing me to place my hand on his thigh. Pouring us each a red Solo cup of wine, he slowly sipped his while I gulped mine down, knowing the herbal infusion has quite the kick and always makes me uncontrollably horny. It was sweet, tasty, with just a hint of earthy green goodness. I slammed my empty cup down and it was immediately refilled.“What if I didn’t want more? You know how crazy I get when I’m on your magic wine.”Glade laughed loudly enough that heads turned. “Then you wouldn’t have grabbed four bottles.”The cute brunette dancer took the stage. She was short and perky in a cute, sexy, nerd kind of way. Smooth skin, a delightfully youthful body with full breasts, and short, brown hair in a pixie cut gave her a combination of wild and innocent looks. She was dressed in some sort of cosplayer outfit with nerd glasses; it suited her nicely, quite sexy.The drunken frat-boy types at the stage threw their last remaining dollars on the stage and exited. I watched her, mesmerized by the way she moved. She was a good dancer, sensual. However, with only ourselves and the few businessmen near the bar, who weren’t paying her much if any attention, she seemed to be merely going through the motions.Emboldened by my off-the-rails arousal and the weed-infused wine, I sprang into action. Feeling so horny that my heart no longer pumped blood, only heated desire, I fished out a few dollar bills and got up. I could have easily exited to my right but chose, instead, to go around to the left. Of course, with him seated and me on my feet this meant that he had Balgat Escort a great view up my skirt. Bending further forward than needed, feeling the somewhat cool air on my thighs, then up my skirt, I knew that my bare ass and heated, dripping pussy were right in his face.I “model walked,” placing each foot directly in front of the other with every step, to the stage. This makes one’s hips swing enticingly and shows off your behind quite nicely. Seeing me approach, the cute brunette dancer smiled and stripped off her anime, cosplayer dress with one, fluid motion. Beneath the dress, she wore a white bikini outfit. Similar in appearance to a bikini swimsuit, but cut perfectly to enhance her body, it had thin straps running across her torso, connecting the top and bottom pieces. The tiny triangles of cloth glowed in the blacklight, giving her a divinely sensual look.I gave her what I hoped was a sexy, accepting smile, approaching the stage, dollars in hand. Shooting me a seductive look, her dancing became more animated, more wanton. Crawling on her hands and knees before me, licking her lips, she stared into my eyes. My pussy gushed. Turning onto her back, she spread her legs, still staring at me, smiling hungrily. Parting her thighs and gyrating herself closer and closer, hands simulating masturbation, cupping her breasts, she positioned herself so that her legs enshrouded me. Clasping her ankles around the back of my neck, she drew me towards her; this forced me to bend forward, into her, the back of my pixie-skirted dress riding up, showing off my thighs and part of my ass. Nobody but my boyfriend could see. I heard his uproarious applause.Pulling herself into a seated position, not releasing me from captivity, she drew me in closer, running her hands down my sides. Her hands stopped their caresses, running down her parted legs to her barely-covered snatch. The thin material outlined the part between her pussy lips showing a faint hint of pubic hair beneath.I stared at her with longing until her gestures gave me the hint that she wanted me to tip her by placing the bills in her bikini bottom. I did so, feeling her hand cover mine as she thrust her groin into my hand. Her skin was smooth, hot, slightly sweaty from being under the lights, and I gasped aloud in pleasure. Her pubic mound felt like liquid fire.“See him?” I gestured back towards our booth with my head, smiling broadly. “When you’re done, please come over and give him a naughty dance. I’m trying to get him all worked up.”She laughed at that, smiled adorably, pulled my head into her tight, round, bountiful cleavage, and kissed me, stopping to blow her hot breath into my ear. I shivered a little. I winked at her, turning to go, our hands lightly caressing each other’s arms in parting. Our intermingling fingertips felt electric.“That was so hot,” Glade erupted upon my return as I shimmied back into my seat. His hot, manly hand caressed my inner thigh as I moved past. “I couldn’t help but notice how your smooth skin glows in the light.”The dancer came over after her set, not even bothering to put her outfit back on. The way she stood there, nude, so brazen, so comfortable, made me more than hot for her.“What’s your name, handsome?” she asked him, chuckling at his name. “Well, Glade, you might have a funny name, but you’re fucking hot. Sit back and spread your legs.”She gyrated to the music, standing between his legs. Bending over at the waist, turning towards me, she smiled at me as she thrust her amazing ass towards his face and twerked a bit. Then she moved towards me and forced my legs apart. Running her hands up my inner thighs she stopped when she discovered my lack of underwear. Kneeling, giving me a sudden understanding of exactly why the table was placed so far away, she gazed at my bare pussy, then up at me, licking her lips. I tipped her heavily.She gestured at Glade’s drink and he nodded. She took a sip and smiled. “That’s yummy. Makes me tingle. Is that blunt in there? Awesome.”

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