I Only Strip for My Husband

I had a preliminary plan by Tuesday night when I called Derek on my cellphone. My resolve to follow through was cast in iron when one of the first things that Derek asked - before even really inquiring about my father's health - was "Will you be back for a performance on Friday, darling?"

Rather than yelling at him that he was a perverted fuck that needed to be castrated - which is what I wanted to say - I gathered all the self-control that I could and said "Sure. I know how important those performances are, and I'm confident that Dad will be better by then," before I had to hit the "Mute" button since I was choking on my own words.

I went to a divorce attorney on Wednesday and she promised to have all of the paperwork ready by Friday. I was seeking a divorce on irreconcilable differences with a 50-50 property split. I continued to stay at Blake's house and he continued to be a gentleman. I needed Blake not to be a gentlemen for the coup de grace, however, so I had to let him in on my plan, and get his cooperation, before Friday night. Thursday night, after dinner and a few drinks, I told Blake that I was divorcing Derek and what I had in mind.

His eyes got like saucers. "Are you sure that is what you want to do?" he asked, not in a tone trying to dissuade me, but just inquiring.

"Hell yes," I quickly replied. "You got a problem with that?"

"No, no...no problem," he mumbled as the crotch of his pants suddenly looked like someone had stuck a gun in there.

*****

Friday night arrived. I was waiting at home, Blake in the pantry, when Derek arrived at 5:00 sharp. He always wanted to have time to prepare for Friday's activities, so he left work a little early every Friday. "Hi Hon," he gushed when he saw me. I deflected him when he tried to give me a kiss. I had put cotton cylinders in my nostrils and said "I hab a coll dalling ands I donn wants ya getting it;" if I do say so myself I sure did sound like I had a cold.

Of course his only concern was "Are you going to be able to perform tonight, Hon."

"Nuttin culd stops me," I replied with a smile and an "OK" symbol with my fingers.

I was drinking a glass of champagne and had one poured for him too. I handed it to him, smiled, clinked his glass and mumbled "To ans unfirgettible nite!"

He drank up.

Two minutes later Derek was passed out, drugged, on the kitchen floor. I had caught enough of him when he collapsed to make sure that he didn't hit his head and kill himself - he needed to be alert later. I pulled the cotton out of my nostrils.

Blake threw Derek over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, and I got out Derek's keys and unlocked the "viewing room." Blake and I tied Derek up good and tight to the front row of bleachers with his back and head propped up and a ball gag in his mouth.

We put a sign on the outside of the viewing room door, with an envelope taped to it. The sign read "Sorry; performance cancelled because of illness. Write your name and address on the back of your ticket and put it in the envelope and I'll send you a refund, plus $10 extra for your trouble."

We had a camera set up filming (with audio) all of the guys who came. Most were grossly disappointed, especially Jessie and Rick, who obviously didn't need tickets especially since Blake identified Rick as the guy at the door collecting and selling tickets when Blake saw the show.

"Why the fuck didn't he call me?" Rick asked Jessie.

"Maybe Amy was around and he didn't want to clue her in - and he sure wasn't gonna call your house in case Debbie answered," Jessie replied as he stroked his chin.

"Yeah; maybe," Rick responded as he shrugged his shoulders and they went off.

Nine of the fifteen guys - counting Rick and Jessie - who did show up were stupid enough to leave their tickets, with names and addresses on them, in the envelope. As Blake collected the tickets I unlocked the door again and went inside the viewing room. Derek was sitting awake, and wide-eyed.

"Hi asshole," I greeted him with a sickeningly sweet smile. "I'm glad that you're awake. The show will be starting shortly - sorry that we'll be twenty minutes late, but we had to be sure that all your buddies were gone. I hope that you like it - it will be your last show."

I wanted him to think "last" as in he would be dead, but really meant the last time that he would ever see me without clothes on.

With that I punched him in the solar plexus - not hard enough so that he wouldn't be able to "enjoy" the show, but forceful enough to inflict a little pain.

I wonder what went through Derek's mind when he saw Blake, already naked, stroll into the studio and start up the music and turn on the lights? I wonder whether Derek was turned on, or anxious, when I did my best routine ever? I wonder if he was jealous when he saw how big and hard Blake's cock was as I neared the end of my routine? However, once I finished my performance with a Spinning Straddle and a naked Booty Bounce directly in front of Blake's now sideways chair, I didn't think about anything else except the upcoming pleasure.

As I stood up from my Booty Bounce, Blake dropped to his knees and starting licking my cunt with over-the-top lust while he simultaneously twisted a nipple and fingered my pucker hole. He had to hold me up when my first orgasm hit it was so powerful. After my second orgasm I almost collapsed despite his hands on my hips.

It was obvious that Blake's cock needed attention. When I recovered from my second orgasm I dropped to my knees and hungrily sucked his big tool while playing with his low hanging testicles. It was clear that he wanted to deposit his load in my pussy, not my mouth, however, so he lifted me up, bent me over so that my hands were supporting me on the back of the chair - within inches of Derek's seat on the other side of the mirrors - and rammed his rod up my pussy.

Blake fucked me with vigor, and despite my exhaustion from my twenty minute spirited strip followed by two oral-induced orgasms I tried the best that I could to fuck back. Once he started squirting my cervix, however, every nerve ending in my body fried and I blacked out. When I came back to life, probably only a few seconds later, the first thought that flashed through my primitive brain was "Holy shit! Now I finally know what toe-curling, Fourth of July fireworks, sex is like!"

Blake and I were in no hurry. We cuddled, laying on the floor right next to the mirrors, until I sensed his cock twitching. I enthusiastically sucked it hard then stood up and put my hands and tits on the mirrors as Blake entered me from behind and fucked me comatose a second time as I gyrated and screamed into the mirrors.

More than two hours after my performance started we were finally able to regain all of our faculties. We kissed, showered together, and dressed. I made a call then went to the viewing room and removed Derek's gag.

"How did you enjoy the show, ex-hubbie?" I gleefully asked.

Derek didn't respond; his eyes were full of a combination of fear, disgust, hate, and - I do believe - enjoyment. I did notice that he had cum in his pants.

The six foot four inch, 260 pound, full time bounty hunter and part time process server - who was Stephanie's boyfriend, Charlie - who I had called came into the room at that time. "Derek Jones?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"You've been served," Charlie said, tossing an envelope with the divorce papers onto Derek's cum-stained pants.

"Thanks, Charlie," I said. "Please untie him once I've left. You're a dear."

"Glad to help, Amy," Charlie chortled.

Blake dropped me off at Cheryl's two bedroom apartment, where I would be staying until the divorce was final. My clothes and everything else that I really wanted had been moved there, or to a storage unit, during that day while Derek was at work. I gave Blake a passionate kiss goodbye. "Thanks!" I said.

"Yeah, it was a real hardship having the best sex of my life by a factor of ten with the sexiest woman that I have ever known, but I sacrificed myself," he grinned.

"Can I call you when the divorce is final?" I giggled.

"Does Dolly Parton sleep on her back?" he chuckled.

*****

My attorney called Rick and Jessie and told them to collect all of the DVDs of my performances that had been sold on the penalty of telling their wives and the cops. They were scared shitless. They swore that they were able to retrieve all the DVDs except for one, from a guy that had moved to Europe and that they didn't have any contact information for. All except one of the DVDs - held as potential evidence in my attorney's safe - were destroyed.

Derek put up a little initial resistance to the divorce, but I made it clear to him in a phone conversation how badly his betrayal had hurt me. The divorce was final within four months - I ended up with a little less than half of our assets because I didn't get full value for my half of the house. Then again, I didn't have the problem of how to sell it with a stripper's studio for a living room.

Blake, Winston, Cheryl, Stephanie, and I had remained best of friends, and all of them were clued in on why I divorced Derek - although Blake and I never told anyone about fucking each other's brains out that night. Neither Blake nor I ever had a date when we went out with our friends. Blake and I were also careful to never be alone together, unless at work.

Just before my divorce was final Blake got promoted to be my supervisor. I immediately got another job - with my company's stellar recommendations - and I assured my friends that we would get together just as often.

The Sunday after my divorce was final I called Blake up and asked him to come to Cupcake Hostess' Strip Aerobics exercise studio. It was never used Sunday night, and June was happy to give me the key.

When Blake arrived I started the music and gave a performance even more impassioned and provocative than the last one. We fucked three times standing, kneeling, or laying on the hardwood floor, carpeting, or mats, of June's studio, each one more nerve-tingling than the last.

That was two years ago. Blake and I have fucked almost every day since then, and have been married for the last eighteen months. Almost every Sunday night that we've been in town since then I've given him a performance, and we've had mind-blowing sex, at June's studio.

I'm proud of my mastery of stripping, even though I'll never perform for anyone except Blake. However, I've got to develop some new routines now - not because the old ones have become boring, because Blake finds them anything but that. Rather this kid growing in my belly is starting to get in the way.

Is there a Preggo version of Strip Aerobics?