Striptease Returns

The last six months had been a strange, exhilarating blur of strippers, pole dancing, and a desperate attempt to reclaim the body I thought I’d lost after having my son. It wasn’t your typical mom’s workout; this involved a gleaming, chrome-plated pole in a dimly lit, smoky club downtown, and a whole lot of exotic dancing. Cardio and toning were definitely byproducts, but let’s be honest, the real draw was the undeniable shift in my sex life. Before this, our intimacy had been a quiet affair, comfortable but predictable. Now, I felt like a different woman – more flexible, more confident, and undeniably sexier.

It all started with the incident at church. Deacon Miller, a stern, judgmental man who took his religious duties very seriously, witnessed me leaving the club one evening. He promptly informed my husband, James, a fellow deacon and a man of similar convictions, who reacted with predictable fury. The ensuing argument was a messy affair, filled with shouting, accusations, and a healthy dose of shame. He stormed off to the guest bedroom, effectively cutting me off, and the following nights followed suit.

The silence was deafening. Three days of separate beds and minimal interaction, limited to the occasional exchange about our son or the simple task of retrieving his clothes. James was a man of immense passion, a lover who appreciated the finer things in life, but he also possessed a strong sense of morality and a surprising aversion to discussing our physical intimacy. The secrecy surrounding our sex life felt suffocating, especially considering his obvious desire for more. It felt as though he was testing me, pushing my boundaries, and judging my choices.

Then, one early morning, as I was rushing to shower, we collided in the hallway. A desperate grab for balance, a moment of unexpected contact, and suddenly, we were locked in a heated embrace. Neither of us could pull away, drawn together by an unspoken need. As I stood there, towel-clad and vulnerable, I noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt. The morning light caught the sweat glistening on his chest, highlighting the raw power of his muscles. He, in turn, seemed equally captivated, his gaze tracing the curve of my body. We clung to each other, breathing heavily, the scent of soap and arousal filling the air. The missed intimacy, the denied caress of skin, fueled our desperate need for connection.

My hands instinctively gripped his shoulders, seeking a lifeline in his embrace. Our breaths became shallow, punctuated by pants from the exertion. It was an almost primal exchange, a desperate attempt to bridge the gap between our strained relationship. As the tension built, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. With a surge of longing, I planted my lips on his, a fierce, urgent kiss that bypassed the usual formalities. He responded immediately, his lips parting to grant me access. The towel slipped from my shoulders as he pulled me towards the bed, his hands finding their way to my ass, his touch both demanding and tender. I felt the throbbing flesh beneath his fingertips, a stark reminder of the pleasure I’d been denied. His kiss deepened, becoming a bite on my lower lip, followed by a slow, deliberate suck on my nipple. A wetness began to seep through my inner thighs, a sign of the arousal building within me. I realized I needed him, craved him, and yearned for the release he offered.

Suddenly, a piercing wail shattered the silence. Our little boy, Samuel, had woken up, his cries echoing through the baby monitor. "Waaaahhhhhhhhh," he shrieked, his distress adding another layer of complication to our already precarious situation. James gasped, pulling away slightly, a flash of panic in his eyes. "Crap," he muttered, the sound barely audible over Samuel’s wails. Our reunion and much-needed release were now off the table.

He slightly raised his body from mine, but his lips remained mere inches from my face, while our son continued his relentless cries. "James," I whispered, my voice filled with remorse, "I'm sorry for all of this, for everything."

Minutes stretched into an eternity as we stared at each other, the silence filled with unspoken words and unacknowledged desires. Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with a mixture of regret and longing. “I’ll get the baby.” He quickly rose from the bed, intending to take care of Samuel, but before he could, he turned back to me, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Show me," he demanded, gesturing towards the stripper pole that had mysteriously appeared in our living room.

A wave of disbelief washed over me. Just three days ago, this pole was non-existent, a hidden secret in our home. Now, it stood there, gleaming under the dim light, a symbol of the transformation that had taken place within me. "Huh? Show-w you on tt-that? I said stuttering, struggling to comprehend the sudden shift in our dynamic.

“Yes, show me what you’ve learned in that class on that pole,” he calmly replied, sinking further into the couch and turning on the stereo. “You know, every night this week, I would jack off to you dancing, to you doing obscene things that pole while I watched. So you gonna show me? Hmmm?”

As the music started, I began to move my hips to the beat, slowly pulling the sash of my robe to reveal my bare body. The sensation was both exhilarating and terrifying. I moved in front of the pole, swaying to the rhythm as I lifted my hands to my breasts, cupping them gently. My back pressed against the pole, my arms raised in a playful gesture, my nails digging into my thighs as I continued to dance.

His eyes bulged as he watched, a primal hunger evident in his gaze. He leaned back in his chair, completely captivated by my movements.

“Goodness baby…” James said panting, unable to tear his eyes away from my body. “I can see you’re really feeling it now.” I could feel his cock swelling inside his trousers, a clear indication of his mounting desire.

I turned around, striking a provocative pose, showcasing my flared hips and toned physique. Reaching out to hold the pole, I lifted one leg slightly, continuing to dance against its surface. The friction against my pussy lips was intense, sending shivers down my spine. Behind me, I could hear James encouraging me, but I was lost in the moment, completely consumed by my own sensations. It felt as though my body was taking over, responding instinctively to the rhythm and the heat of the situation.

“Gosh Kendra. Come here. NOW!” James shouted, his voice filled with urgency.

Without hesitation, I jumped towards him, straddling his lap as he quickly stood up and placed me on the cool wood floor. My legs wrapped around his hips as he continued his relentless assault, pushing me further and further into his embrace.

My orgasm was explosive, a surge of pleasure that left me breathless and trembling. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, unable to process the intensity of the experience. The sensation was overwhelming, a torrent of sensations that left me feeling both drained and completely satisfied. As the waves subsided, I rubbed his slick brown locks from his face, a silent expression of gratitude and affection. Then, I pulled back, my gaze meeting his.

He rose from the floor and took my hand, pulling me closer for a passionate kiss. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I overreacted and I was wrong to punish you and ignore you.”

“You’re oo-kkay. I shoulda t-told you,” I replied, my voice barely audible.

After a few moments of lingering kisses, James retrieved Samuel from his room. He kissed and tickled his little son until he was giggling and squirming in my arms, bringing a sense of normalcy back into our chaotic lives.

“Have a good day,” I said, hoping that Samuel’s infectious joy would somehow transfer to James, easing the tension between us.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, his deep brown eyes locking onto mine. Then, he was gone, disappearing out the door and back into his world.

As James left for work, the stripper pole remained, a silent testament to the night's events. I wasn’t the best company amongst my coworkers, and my pent-up sexual tension needed a release. Since I couldn’t attend my dance class, I decided to take a three-mile run, hoping to burn off some of the energy.

When I returned home, the house was dark and quiet. Knowing my boys were out, I decided to take a long, hot bath to soothe my aching muscles. It wasn’t something we normally did when we were at odds, but the need for self-care felt too strong to ignore. However, I couldn’t shake the lingering sensation of his touch, the memory of his kisses. As I soaked in the warm water, I heard the familiar sound of the baby monitor, signaling that Samuel was awake.

A sense of urgency washed over me, pulling me out of my reverie. I quickly wrapped myself in a short silk robe, a quick dab of cocoa butter on my skin, and hurried downstairs. There, sitting on the couch in his study, was James. And, to my surprise, the stripper pole stood proudly in the corner of the room.

“Hey. Umm…where’s junior?” I asked, my voice laced with uncertainty as I approached him.

“With my mom.”

“Oh. Umm…are you hun-”

“Show me,” he interrupted, pointing to the pole. “Show me what you’ve learned in that class on that pole.”

A wave of panic washed over me. This wasn't part of the plan. He knew exactly what I had been doing, what I had been longing for. As the R&B music filled the room, I began to move my hips to the beat, slowly pulling the robe to reveal my bare body. The sensation was both exhilarating and terrifying, a reminder of the desire that now consumed me. I moved in front of the pole, swaying to the rhythm as I lifted my hands to my breasts, cupping them gently. My back pressed against the pole, my arms raised in a playful gesture, my nails digging into my thighs as I continued to dance.

His eyes bulged as he watched, unable to take his eyes off my body. He leaned back in his chair, completely captivated by my movements. "Goodness baby…" James said panting. “You look real good without any panties on, baby…” He continued to watch me dance, unable to tear his eyes away from my body.

As I moved closer to the pole, my legs wrapping around his hips, his hands found their way to my ass, his touch both demanding and tender. The sensation was overwhelming, igniting a fire within me. As he continued to pound, I realized that this was exactly what I needed, a release from the tension and longing that had plagued us for days. The pleasure was intense, almost unbearable, but I couldn't pull away, unable to resist the pull of his touch. Reaching out, I grabbed his hard cock, gently stroking its length, savoring the anticipation. Then, as if on cue, he slid his boxers off, positioning himself at my slick entrance. I could feel his pre-cum drip from his tip as we kissed again, a silent acknowledgment of our shared desire. The moment was perfect, a culmination of all the pent-up emotions and longing that had built up over the past few days. We continued our reunion, lost in a world of pleasure and intimacy, until the baby monitor beeped again, reminding us of the responsibility we shared.

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Striptease Returns

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