Nan Gets a Threeway

"I'm flattered, but you missed a good show with Daisy--she's a firecracker on stage," Amber chimed in. "If you'd like, we can both give you a table dance," she continued. "Your hubs said you think I'm pretty hot, and Daisy and I both like the gals, right hon?" she turned to Ginger.

"Oh God, I'd LOVE that, Mrs. L. I've had the biggest crush on you like, forever. Please? You don't even have to tip me."

"Honey, I don't think so. In fact, I think it's time we headed out, don't you Jimmy?" I begged.

Jimmy started to answer, but Amber interrupted.

"Can I offer a couple of thoughts?" she asked, but didn't wait for an answer.

"Here's what I'm thinking," she went on. "I think that Mrs. L, here, is just now finding out or just admitting she likes girls, and they're here to test the waters anonymously with people they'll never see again, right?"

I nodded.

"And you just blew that out of the water, hon. They're going to need to come to terms with your being a stripper and especially that you know their secret, right?"

I nodded again.

"So y'all do whatever you want, but why don't you sit here for a while with Daisy and just talk, OK? You'll feel better if you do. I'm gonna regret not diving into that rack of yours," she grinned at me, "but I'll leave the three of you alone now."

And she walked off.

"Is that true?" Ginger wanted to know. "Did you really not know I was a stripper? Mom and Dad know. And Pammy knows. The word is getting out, and I'm really OK with that. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you--I just figured maybe you'd come to see me."

She sat down in Jimmy's chair and he dragged another from the next table.

"No, hon, we didn't know you were doing this. Pammy knows?" Pam is one of our daughters. The were the definition of BFFs.

"Yeah, I did it as a lark a couple of times in college and we laughed about it. I'm back at it till I finish my PhD, and we've talked. She worries about whether I'm safe, but I am, really. The girls here all look out for each other. I'm living with Amber, by the way."

"So you're . .?" I let the question hang.

"Lesbian? Yep! Or more accurately bi, especially here, but socially yeah, I'm a dyke!"

"So you and Pam . . .?" I let that question hang too, shocked that I was asking.

"Umm--" Ginger hesitated.

"I guess I'll take that as a yes, then," I said, "this is a day for surprises."

"Oh, God. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to let on," Ginger looked crushed--the first time her eager smile had gone away. "But really, she's more into guys. And I think I'm probably still the only girl she's been with. She's really freaked out about it, you know? She was always petrified we'd get caught. Every time we'd, um, play, she'd swear she'd never do it again."

"Did she know you "had like, the biggest crush" on me?" I asked, imitating her earlier tone.

"Yeah, she'd call me a pervert when I'd bring it up, but she always hoped she'd grow a set of boobs like yours."

"Well, that didn't work out," I laughed, calming down some. "We'd joke that Stephie got my boob genes and Pammy got her dad's. Sooo," I went on. "What would Pammy think if she knew you fulfilled your fantasies with her mom?"

"I don't think I'd share that with her. With anyone, for that matter," Ginger said thoughtfully. "I'm not positive what she'd think, but I'd just as soon not find out. And really, don't worry about my gossiping about seeing you here, even if we don't, um, dance. I never, ever gossip. If I'd thought ahead that you might ask me about Pammy, I'd have tried to lie about it--it really isn't something I wanted to ever share."

We spent a few moments just sitting and watching the stage.

"Are we cool, Mrs. L?" Ginger asked.

"Can we drop the "Mrs. L", Ging--er, Daisy?" I asked. "That keeps weirding me out."

"We need a stripper name for you!!" she proclaimed, becoming re-animated. "How about . . . " she paused, thinking, "Charity!!"

"Umm--"

"Or Anastasia!!!"

"Umm . . ."

"Or Kitty!!!!"

"I think she's already got a pretty good one," Jimmy interjected.

"Oh, Jimmy, noooo . . . "

"Dr. Knockers!" Jimmy exclaimed

"Ohh--perfect! Can I really call you that Mrs. L? And if it helps, actually as long as I'm here working, could you please use my stage name?"

"I guess it's better than Mrs. L," I admitted. "OK Daisy, how about just Dr K?"

"Dr. K! I like it! Deal!" Daisy concluded.

A manager type strolled by and gave us a long look.

"Oops, I need to circulate. I hope you can stay for my next stage dance, but if you really need to go, please at least call me tomorrow? Here, have you got a pen?" Jimmy produced one and she wrote her cell number on a napkin.

"I meant it when I said I've got a huge crush on you, Dr K. You too, Mr . . . .K? If you'd let me, I'd love to stop by wherever you're staying and give you a private dance. Or more. If it'd be too weird, don't worry about it, and don't worry a minute that I'll gossip, or that I'm shocked that you're here. I'm really glad you came. And you really ought to do a private dance or VIP with Amber--I just know you'd love it."

She gave me a quick kiss on the lips, and just like that, she skipped off toward another table. We saw her stop at several before giving a table dance to a young guy sitting alone. As she was grinding her ass in his lap and he was feeling her up, she looked our way, winked, and blew us a kiss.

"I'm glad we didn't run out the door, but I just can't feature doing Ginger, can you?" I asked Jimmy.

"Good lord, no!" Jimmy exclaimed. "Talk about a dick-wilter. Amber had me hard walking back, but when I realized it was Ginger pressing her tits into me, any horniness just went pouring out of my feet. Do you think Frank and Dory knew? And Pammy?!? I never suspected they were getting it on--did you?"

"Not a clue! But considering her Mom and Granny are both bi, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I'm thinking I need to talk with her, but I don't know how, and I'm not looking forward to figuring it out."

It was surreal! We sat talking about our daughter, and about Ginger and her folks, and about what to do next, all the while watching a parade of naked women on the stages and circulating around the tables. The nudity stopped being so unusual. Our concentration was broken when the DJ announced: "DAAAAAAAAAA-ZEEEEEE" was coming to the stage. We looked at each other with an unspoken question of whether to watch or leave. We watched.

Ginger/Daisy was a beautiful woman. She had been a swimmer in high school and college and still had a swimmer's body. She wasn't tall, but her shoulders were broad and her upper back was very muscular. She swam butterfly, mostly, and the workouts had left her superbly sculpted. Her tits weren't huge, but were high and very firm. She was out of both the bra and g-string before the end of the first number revealing a completely smooth pussy.

She WAS a firecracker on stage! She went effortlessly up and down the pole, twirling, spinning, hanging from inverted from one leg, rubbing her visibly wet slit up and down the shiny metal. And that was all just the warm up for what she did to the guys who flocked stage-side! She got her pussy right up in their faces, and although I couldn't tell for sure because of the angle, I could swear she collected some clit-licks!

"Any second thoughts about whether we should do her?" I asked Jimmy.

"I'll admit to having a semi now, but no--that's still a very long leap."

"Hi," a breathy voice whispered in my ear, "still in the mood for a table dance? Or maybe a private dance?"

It was Amber. I didn't even see her approach!

"Or if you like, we can rent the VIP. It's more private," she added.

"Show us the VIP?" I asked.

"Sure thing, hon," and she led us toward the back.

The VIP was an alcove with an L-shaped couch and a curtain that closed it off from the rest of the club. It rented by the half-hour from the club, and we were to pay Amber for her time.

I took a deep breath. This was what we came for, but I had major butterflies.

"Sure." I finally said, and stepped inside.

Amber collected the fees from Jimmy, closed the curtains, and arranged Jimmy and me next to each other with our butts scooted up to the front edge. With a quick motion, her g-string was off and we were alone with a hot, naked woman. I reached over and rubbed Jimmy's cock through his slacks. I smiled when I remembered he chose the thin fabric on purpose!

Amber was kneeling on the bench straddling my lap and nuzzling my neck. She gently nibbled at my earlobe and whispered: "I'm going to love this almost as much as you will." She put her hand behind my neck and guided my mouth to her tits. "You can play with them all you want, hon, no need to be bashful," she encouraged. That was all I needed. I hugged her to me and sucked her nipple deeply into my mouth and flicked it with my tongue. I sucked as much of her soft, warm breast into my mouth as I could and rolled my face in her chest as she pressed my head into her. Releasing it, I moved my hands to her chest and firmly massaged both tits and pressed them to each side of my face as I kissed the skin between them. Moving my hands to her ass, I pulled her upright and hugged her to my face.

"Nothing's off limits for you, hon," she encouraged, "but let me do some of the work, huh?"

With that, she eased off the bench and kneeled in front of me. She spread my knees. Leaning between them she slowly pushed my skirt up to my hips and ran her hands up and down the outsides of my thighs. She pulled my blouse out of my waistband and began undoing the buttons. "Seems restrictive," she smiled. One button at a time, my blouse opened up, falling to my sides as the last button yielded. Amber switched her attention to my tits.

"I've been wanting these sweet things since I first walked up to you!" she murmured as the lifted my breasts, squeezed them together and began sucking first one, then the other. My areolas stiffened sending a shiver all the way down to my pussy. An involuntary moan escaped my lips.

I glanced over at Jimmy--he had his rock-hard cock out and was stroking it lightly. I reached over to give him a hand as Amber continued to work over my tits.

"I'll be over there in a minute, sugar," she said to Jimmy.

"No--this is Dr. Knocker's night--you just keep doing what you're doing," came the answer.

Ooooo--baby! I can guarantee that man is gonna get another deep throat! I just wasn't sure if it would be right here or back at the motel! I felt pre-cum starting to slicken his dick.

"My pleasure," came the muffled reply from Amber, still buried in my chest.

Amber came up for air, climbed down and pulled on my hips until my ass was about half-off the couch. Then she had me lift up and scooted the back side of my skirt behind me. I liked where this was heading!

She looked up at me: "This is because you're Daisy's friend, hon. Not many people get this."

And with that, she began kissing her way up my thighs. I thought, I HOPED, I knew where she'd end up, but the waiting and wondering while she continued her slow track was exquisite agony. After what seemed an eternity, she spread my pussy lips and ever so slowly licked from bottom to top, lingering to let her tongue dance on my clit. DAMN! My thighs quivered immediately and she backed off. Over and over, she ran that wicked tongue up and down my slit, alternately plunging it in my sopping wet vag and flicking my clit. Finally, she didn't back off when my thighs began their quivering prelude and I had a monster orgasm. My whole body bucked and thrashed, the room began to dim and my ears were ringing!

"Hon, Hon--you OK?" Jimmy's voice penetrated the fog.

I was OK, but my attitude wasn't. The raging horniness that had propelled me into a strip club and a thrashing orgasm from a stripper had been replaced by crushing, panicked guilt!

"Jimmy, I gotta go. We need to leave. Please, I need to go, right now!"

Jimmy and Amber got me put back together and we headed for the door. As soon as we got outside I felt the panic begin to let go. When we got into the car, I started sobbing.

"Jimmy I'm sorry," I choked out, "I don't know what the hell is happening. It was great, it was fabulous and then it wasn't."

"Don't worry--let's get back to the room and just take a few breaths."

By the time we got back to the hotel, the tension was gone, but I was really disturbed about my reaction. I asked Jimmy to go get us a take-out dinner and phoned Aunt Kathy.

"Sounds like post-coital dysphoria, to me, kiddo," Kathy offered after hearing my tale.

"Say some more about that?" I asked.

"Well, this is an oversimplification, but it's kind of like cognitive dissonance--you know what that is, right?"

"That's where what you see or hear as truth doesn't match what you've always thought it was?"

"Pretty close. So, with sex, you're expecting some things along with it--love, compassion, tenderness, all the things that usually lead to sex in the first place. If you get sex, even good sex, without the rest, you can ride that orgasm over the crest and off into a cliff of depression. It can be dramatically fast. So--getting eaten out by a stripper in a titty bar is the hell and gone from how you've always experienced sex. Not that it's bad to experiment, and frankly it sounded really hot to me, but maybe it's not something you want to try again, huh?"

"So you don't think I've irrevocably fucked myself up?"

"Oh, Nan, I don't think that for a minute."

"Can we talk about swinging and 3-ways sometime?"

"You bet, hon. Feel better?"

"Yeah. I love you Aunt Kathy"

"Love you too. Call me anytime, OK?"

"Promise. Bye."

When Jimmy got back with the food, I found my appetite. In fact I was famished! I shared Kathy's thoughts over the take-out containers.

"Well, it makes a lot of sense. And I bet having Ginger show up had something to do with it, you think?"

"That was a shock, for certain. Do you suppose I was pre-loading some guilt by watching her on stage?"

"Yeah, I felt awkward about that too. I felt like a peeping Tom. Still, of all the memories from the evening, the one that keeps running through my mind is when she hugged me right at first. Christ, I can still feel those perky little tits squeezing into me, and that body--she's just so damned fit! She's a really well put together young lady." Jimmy admitted.

"I can't believe she's been fantasizing about me," I shook my head, "I really wonder if she shared that with Pammy. And what will we do about her! Should I let her know she has "bi-genes" or keep quiet? I don't want her to feel guilty or like she's some kind of freak. Should we be open about where we are now? At her age, I don't think I wanted to admit my parents liked sex, and I haven't really spent any time talking with her about anything but the health stuff."

"Do we have to plan it all out tonight?" Jimmy asked, with a note of weariness in his voice.

"Oh, Jimmy, I'm so sorry. This hasn't been a lot of fun for you, has it? No--we don't have to plan another thing. Hey--know something?"

"Hm?"

"When you told Amber it was "my night" I thought to myself--"Buddy, you just guaranteed yourself a hot time in the room as soon as we get out of here. I'm about back to normal. So, let's make it "Jimmy's night" now, huh?"

"This may sound really odd considering what we were aiming for tonight, but you know what I'd really like? Just a plain old backrub and a night's sleep next to the most beautiful, sexy woman in the world."

"Wow. Yeah--that'll be perfect. Get those cloths off, roll over and leave it to Dr. K"

I worked on him for about 30 minutes. He was asleep long before I finished. I curled up next to him, pulled the covers over us and tried my best to go to sleep. Now I was guilty about neglecting my patient, loving husband. Fucking guilt.

Saturday

I must have actually fallen asleep, because slowly I became aware there was sunlight filtering into the room. I had a moment of panic when I saw a note on Jimmy's empty pillow and jolted wide awake as I snatched it up.

"Hope you slept as well as I did--didn't want to wake you. I'm up, showered, rested and hungry--down in the lobby for the buffet breakfast. I'll bring some coffee and breakfast goodies back to the room if I don't see you in the lobby first." He wrote the time--it was only 10 minutes ago.

I moved to get dressed and join him in the lobby, but I caught a ripe whiff from down below as I threw off the covers. I opted for the shower first--a nice long one!

As I came out of the bathroom in a towel that was almost big enough to cover, Jimmy greeted me with a kiss and a cup of coffee.

"G'morning beautiful!"

"Mmmm. Thank you." I kissed him again for good measure and padded on into the room.

There was a plate of fresh fruit, a cup of yogurt and a cinnamon roll waiting for me on the table. I settled in with my coffee while Jimmy took the recliner and picked up a packet of brochures.

"Whatcha got there?" I asked.

"I thought we might play tourist today--I grabbed a handful of things from the lobby to browse. You got anything you've been itching to see in Atlanta?"

I welcomed the thought of a break from experimenting with our sex life--maybe we'd focused on that too exclusively.

"See what piques your interest, and let's narrow down from there," I said between bites of wonderfully ripe honeydew and cantaloupe. "That's a great idea, by the way."

In the end, we settled for a behind-the-scenes tour of the Atlanta Aquarium, a walking tour of the MLK neighborhood, and a carriage ride. It was a great day, weather included.

As we were pulling into the motel in the afternoon, my cell rang. I was bluetoothed to the car, so we could both see the caller ID showed it was Ginger! I looked at Jimmy as it continued to ring--3 more before it went to voice mail. 2 more. 1 more.

"Go ahead," Jimmy urged, and I answered.

"Mrs. L," Ginger opened, "thanks so much for picking up. I was afraid you might not want to ever see or talk to me again. I hoped you were going to call today, but I gave up waiting and called Pammy for your number. I hope you don't mind. Can I see you guys? I go on in an hour. Can we have dinner? Are you close to the club?"

"Ginger, we'd never stop talking to you. We've been playing tourist in Atlanta today. We just needed a break from last night--we haven't even talked about it yet. What do you want to see us about?"

"Oh, thank God. Thank you. I so much don't want you to hate me. I just want to talk some in our Ginger and Mrs. L IDs. Okay?"

"You're on the car speaker, so Mr. L is here too. And we just pulled into the motel. Sure--I think we need to talk too. Can you meet us at the Applebee's a few blocks south of the club?"

She could, we did, and we were glad to pick back up.

"Amber told me you had a rough time at the end of VIP," Ginger said after the waitress had taken our orders. "She said it looked a lot like what we call 'cum conscience.' Guys get like that if they have an orgasm while we're giving them a dance. All of a sudden, they get all embarrassed about being in a strip club and go tearing out of there."

"So you try to keep 'em on the edge to sell more dances?" Jimmy grinned.

"Yeah, exactly," Ginger replied, nodding.

"So are you OK now? You haven't gone back home--I hope that means you're OK."

"I think so, Ginger," I admitted. "I don't think we'll go that far in a strip club again, at least I won't. Jimmy got kind of short-changed last night." I gave Jimmy a shoulder bump and continued. "We haven't talked yet about tonight's agenda. We could never take a lap dance from you, though, honey. Both of us agreed on that. You're beautiful and sexy, but you're too much like a daughter for us to get turned on, and even if we did, I'm sure I'd die of guilt even worse than I did with Amber. It's a real thing, by-the-way: "Post-coital dysphoria" in shrink-speak."