I’m in Love With a Stripper
And I love how she electrifies me both on and off-stage
No one in the village knew what she did for a living, it was just rumor and guesswork. A few years ago she had bought a small house on the outskirts of the village. She always dressed casually and drove around with an old rust bucket. I had already made her acquaintance in my auto parts store, where she sometimes came to buy something and asked me to install whatever she bought. Always friendly, she must be about fifty and otherwise pretty unattractive .
There was something eerie about her, and I needed to find out.
I encountered her briefly at my store yet again. As she paid for her product, I saw a note fall out of her purse. The phone rang, I hurried to answer it and before I knew it, she was gone. I followed the place she had dropped her note. A receipt for a dry cleaner lay next to it. She had paid 25 dollars for a dress she perhaps could not get to without the receipt, I thought to myself. My curiosity got the worst out of me and I headed for the dry cleaner.
In return for the receipt I was handed a long, red, modern, almost sinfully erotic dress, definitely more mysterious than I thought. I carried the dress into the car and left my business card at the dry cleaners in case the owner came looking for her belongings.
The dress hung safely in the protective cover in my store, and slowly but surely, she got to it. I thought this was reason enough to have a heated conversation and to know more about her business, but instead, she reproached me.
“How dare you pick up my stuff at the dry cleaners? That’s outrageous!”
I hadn’t imagined the lady to be so angry, but tried my best to calm her down.
“I found a cleaning voucher lying on the floor in the store in the evening. With around twenty customers a day, it was not even possible for me to determine who the receipt could belong to. So I went to the dry cleaners and picked up the item, left my business card, and hoped the owner would get back to me. If the receipt had been in the yard and someone had picked up the dress, it would have been gone. But now it is here in the office and you’re welcome to have it.”
When I came back with the dress hanging in the case, she had calmed down a bit. “Sorry, if that was the case, but I’m still embarrassed. Nobody should see the dress.”
I looked into her eyes and said, “You have a really very erotic dress, there. I would like to see it on you, that noble piece,” I said, almost not believing what I had uttered there.
She blushed a little, embarrassed, and took me by surprise.
“Okay, I’ll put the dress on for you, but keep quiet about everything. I would be too embarrassed otherwise. Come, 8 p.m. tonight, you know my house!”
I looked at her again, she lowered her eyes a bit bashfully. I would have liked to look into those eyes again, but wanted to accept the offer before she changed her mind. “Thank you, I will bring some champagne.”
I got to the front door around 8 p.m, rang the bell briefly, and hoped she wouldn’t have changed her mind. She was still wearing the same clothes as this afternoon. Her apartment was furnished very tastefully, solid furniture, some fine pictures in expensive frames with erotic motifs, expensive crystal glasses in the cabinet display case. An old clock ticked comfortably in the living room. Several carpets, which were certainly not cheap, lay on the floor. The mighty, massive wall unit dominated the whole room. A graceful floor lamp and a magnificent ceiling chandelier rounded off the picture.
There was a lot of money in here with a good bit of taste. Not an eccentric woman who was at home here, but a solid, certainly not entirely modern, yet worldly person.
“Do you like my apartment?” she asked, calling me back to reality from my reflections. “Yes, yes, very noble, tasteful, but a bit too solid for her age. How come?” Without answering, she placed two elegant champagne flutes on the table, and asked me to open the bottle. Almost silently, I opened the bottle and poured the champagne. We drank, she made an ecstatic face.
And when will you show me your dress? I thought to myself. When will this ugly caterpillar slip out of its shell and become a dazzling butterfly? As if she could read my mind, she began to undress. The old jacket, then the sweater. She looked at me, kind of questioning, probably wanting a comment which didn’t come. She turned on the music, pressed a few buttons on the discreetly built-in system in the wall unit.
Music blared out of speakers that were just as discreetly hidden. It was a classy tango. She took off her shoes, pulled down her skirt, stood in front of me in — I couldn’t believe it — lace underwear with black suspenders. She also took off her funny little shirt, let it fall to the ground, and a bra that was just as hot, as it was expensive, came to light. A flawless body, light tan, well proportioned. I couldn’t stop being amazed.
She took off her somewhat old-fashioned socks and danced to the tango on the large living room wall, pulled open a deep drawer, and took out a pair of fishnet stockings, which she now put on and tied to her suspenders. Again she danced against the wall of the cupboard, took long black gloves from the drawer that reached up to her upper arms. She danced to the wardrobe, took the dress out of the case, and put it on. She faced me backward and I zipped up her dress.
Dancing, she got back to the closet wall, took out a pair of shoes, slipped into black high heels, which were decorated with golden beads and stars. Finally, and as the icing on the cake, she elegantly draped a red and black feather boa around her neck. Wow, that was a reverse striptease, I was blown away.
The music got wilder and my beauty started dancing again, now beginning to take off her fiddle. She danced skilfully, stripped very professionally, gradually defoliated, and showed no mercy to me and the bulge in my pants. It was quite a while before she was back in front of me in her lacy bra and panties. But she kept stripping, teasing me more and more, showing a couple of really nice tits for a few moments, but skillfully concealing them again.
Finally, she threw the bra at me, still prancing around, slowly and very teasingly stripped down the panties, revealing a triangle delicately cut in the shape of a heart. Again and again, she threw me glances, looks that spoke more than words.
I wanted to get up, but she motioned for me to stay seated. Completely naked and very erotic with large stiff nipples, she danced the tango to the end, made a perfect bow, and came to me, bringing the two champagne glasses with her.
We clinked glasses, took a big gulp. Her appearance was impeccable, her performance perfect, dammit, we had an erotic gem in the village, and nobody even suspected it!
I had respect for this woman, this dance, these movements, this eroticism.
My heart warmed.
She sat on my lap. My heart was pounding, I almost lost control of myself. I was definitely under high voltage. She offered me her mouth for a kiss. It was one of the hottest kisses of my life. She began to unbuckle my belt, took off my shirt, dreamily stroked my chest, took off my pants, and before I knew it, she was holding my cock in her delicate hands, bending down to it, kissing it with hot lips, wanting, knowing, demanding!
“So, my dear, now you know the other side of me”, she added while pulling me to the bedroom. She put a condom on me, the devil knows where it came from so quickly! She then lay back on the big bed and offered me her pussy like a ripe fruit. No foreplay, no tenderness, only pure sex.
Powerfully I penetrated into her little paradise. She was good, she was amazing, she could really respond to every twist, every thrust, every nuance of my movements. Her historical expression was pure eroticism, she was ready, her eyes flickered, her mouth was open, her tongue kept licking her lips, her breathing was ragged, she was hugging me, her pelvis almost had a life of its own, her inner muscles were trained. A bomb, a total sex bomb in bed. She lived the sex, I couldn’t hold it any longer. I came myself, wild and taking.
After that, we lay quietly on top of each other. Suddenly she became tender, loving, kissing me and whispering things in my ear that I had never dreamed of. It was totally different, but there had to be a catch somewhere. I was torn in my feelings. I might fall in love with this woman.
She had pulled the light blanket over us, snuggled up to me, teased me from time to time, was sweet and tender. Our lips found each other again and again, her nimble tongue explored my mouth. She offered me all the freedom, purred contentedly, but I didn’t understand her world. I had regained strength from all the tenderness and started to move inside her again. She responded immediately, but it became a slow waltz, no longer a wild tango. It took us a long time until total lust struck again and she came before me, not nearly as violently, but with much more feeling, with tender bites, with constant caressing and loving words. She saw my departure, smiled at me, and was just happy.
“You, darling, I never thought I would reveal myself to you like this, but now we are both secret lovers. I beg you, keep everything to yourself, we will still experience many happy hours, but nobody in the village should know about it.”
Before I could say anything else, she gave me a small card. It was a free ticket, a ticket to a very good red-light club in a town in the area.
“Visit my show, of course, you are my guest. I have my gig every weekend at 10pm. Sometimes I’m ordered by a rich sheik, or by someone from a big industry. The bosses of the local banks also occasionally invite me to a special performance. These evenings always end in total luxury. To this day I have chosen my lovers myself, sometimes the man is lucky, sometimes I’m unlucky because it can happen that a total loser ends up in my bed. Occupational hazard.”
Once again she became tender, nibbled my ears, kissed playfully, and was no longer the man-devouring vamp, she was just nice. Nevertheless, she ended our intimate get-together in the bedroom and we got up, got dressed, and sat for a long time together in the living room, despite my newfound loin strength, I couldn’t land with her again, not tonight. Nevertheless, my heart burned for this woman, she was like a goddess to me!
Four weeks later I was sitting in the front row of the nightclub in the evening. Finely dressed, genuine, I had bought an expensive jacket and was waiting for Sarah to appear, like everyone else. That was probably her artist name. Finally, it was midnight, red light, tango, sure, that was their music.
I knew the dance, the music, the process, but here it was something completely different. Here she was the attraction, here she was number one. Somehow there was tension in the air, it crackled with anticipation. It was full, pure eroticism. Hardly any of the male viewers remained motionless. Now you saw the super dress I already knew.
With a nifty twist, she took off her dress after the handsome butler opened it at the back and then carried it backstage as well. In the red and black bustier, she continued to dance. Her facial expression became more and more passionate, hornier, and hornier. I think she teased herself at this dance.
A man from the audience was allowed to unlace her bustier. Her hot tits were still covered, but steep nipples were already pushing through the fabric.
The butler brought a red plush stool and she sat on it. Again and again, she brought her black and red feather stole into play, pulling it between her legs in a highly erotic way. Again a guest was allowed to step in and remove her shoes.
She got up again, danced damn horny across the stage, crouched down again, and very slowly took off her fishnet stockings, rolled them over her long and beautiful legs. Her beautiful erotic feet with red painted toenails burned into my brain. Once again a guest had the pleasure of opening her bra. She continued to dance with her arms crossed over her tits. Raise her arms when she showed her back to us, smiled mischievously when she faced us again, and kept her perfect tits covered again.
Now the long gloves fell off, lovely manicured hands with almost artistically designed fingernails came to light. So now she was only wearing lace panties and of course, she still had the stole and the black mask over her eyes. Her facial expression suggested she was now having an orgasm. I can allow myself this verdict, having experienced it myself almost four weeks ago. Did she play so perfectly or did she really feel it? Hell, she wasn’t just good, she was awesome.
She could bend over, lie back over the stool, spread her legs. Again and again she reached between her legs and sighed audibly. Her nipples had reached a considerable size. Sometimes she played it herself. The light grew a little dimmer, the tension was at its peak. With many twists and turns, she now took off her panties and tossed them elegantly, of course, right in my face. I caught the particle easily, couldn’t help myself, and sniffed it with an ecstatic expression. A few guests couldn’t help but laugh.
She stuck out her sweet bottom in a highly provocative way, kept turning and dancing and it became more and more exciting, especially since she was still hiding the most important thing.
Sarah now spread her legs over the stool, but had her stole cleverly between her legs, she showed everything and nobody saw it. The music was in the last ecstatic beats, now the stole had to give in to the last secret.
The music ended with a crazy crescendo, the butler brought a red velvet coat and covered her nakedness. A huge round of applause, a standing ovation and I had my entrance. I rushed to the stage with a large bouquet of roses, handed her the flowers, and kissed her tender hand to perfection.
She accepted my bouquet of roses with a smile, hugged me, and whispered to me to wait for her at the back exit around one o’clock. After I was back in my seat and the applause and cheering had died down, she stood on the stage smiling. The light got brighter, she made an elegant bow, opened her red velvet coat for two seconds, and ran off the stage.
We had a good time in her outrageously expensive condominium. I know I can only be one of many hearts in her collection, but maybe I’m a special one. She was very nice, both on the stage and here with me. My heart was on fire — it still is — but this time it was she who wanted my closeness for as long as possible. This is how a tender, loving, and wonderful night passed.
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