The Strip Joint

"Can't we get off this damn road and find the motorway?" I complained

"I think you'll find they are called Freeways over here!" Elizabeth replied with a smile, gunning the hired Cherokee a little faster, "and, no, we can't! I'm hungry and we are far more likely to find a place to eat along here somewhere than we are on the freeway. "

I settled back in the passenger seat as the car gathered speed. Once my new wife had made up her mind about something, I knew there were few who could change it.

Elizabeth was a typical product of the English private school system, enjoying her formative years in all-girl schools before being whisked away to an extremely expensive finishing school in Switzerland. Going straight from her father's house, to the sorority house, to my house, she was never expected to do a day's work in her entire life. In fact, Elizabeth would probably have choked at the merest thought of work; with everyone around to do things for her, she didn't even know what a dirty dish looked like!

The marriage between us had been arranged since Elizabeth was about sixteen years old. I'm a prominent figure in a financial institution in London and a great friend of her father. It was decided that, being a wealthy widower and considerably older than her, I would make a good, stable husband. The deal suited me just fine. From the first time I saw her long, golden-blonde hair and neat athletic figure, I had wanted her. Although I'd fallen head over heels in love with her, I was sensible enough to realise that those deep feelings were unlikely ever to be reciprocated. She had married me because it was the right thing to do and because it was her father's wish. I lived in perpetual fear of her first inevitable love affair with a younger man.

The road before us stretched on into the distance and the air conditioning whined and struggled to relieve the excessive outside temperature. This tour of the Southern States had been Elizabeth's idea of a honeymoon. I had agreed, but on the proviso that we only stayed in the best hotels; at my age, I considered room-service to be a necessity rather than a luxury!

"This place looks okay!" Elizabeth suddenly cried and swung the car viciously in front of the oncoming traffic and into the parking lot of a small bar/diner on the opposite side of the road. We came to a screeching halt and I had a sudden vision of my physician reprimanding me for my high blood pressure. I looked up at the bar.

"Oh Liz, surely you don't want to eat here!" I said. "Come on, the Hilton's only another few hours away, we can have a nice, civilized dinner there. "

"I told you not to call me Liz - my name is Elizabeth. " She said indignantly. "If we are going to stay married for long, you are going to remember that! Now, come on, James, I'm hungry and I want to eat!"

The interior did little to dissuade me from my earlier assessment of the bar. The atmosphere was dark and foreboding - as were a lot of the clientele. Cigarette smoke hung thick in the still, unconditioned air and country music pumped out loudly from a decrepit juke-box near a small, roughly constructed stage. Dejectedly, I followed my new bride to a table by the empty stage and we sat.

A bored looking waitress quickly appeared by our side.

"You folk's wanna eat?"

A brief perusal at the grease stained menu, and the waitress was walking back towards the kitchen with Elizabeth's order of hamburger and fries and mine of steak. Within a few seconds our drinks arrived and I sipped gratefully at my neat whiskey while Elizabeth looked around.

"What a great place!" she enthused. "I really hoped we would find a bar like this. I wonder what the stage is for?"

"I think we are about to find out, darling. " I replied

As I spoke the waitress that had taken our order walked out onto the stage a grabbed the microphone.

"Guys and girls... " she announced, "the Log House Bar presents... Miss Candy!"

A roar of applause and cheers erupted around the room as a girl in her mid thirties pranced out onto the stage. Dressed as she was in leather-fringed leggings and matching gold latex bra and panties, it seemed obvious that some form of strip-dance was part of the evening's entertainment. A large Stetson hat sat atop a mass of dark curly hair and she carried a fake six-shooter pistol in each hand. I looked over at Elizabeth. My intention was to grab her hand and leave quickly - a young lady of her breeding should never be exposed to this sort of thing, I thought - but my wife's face was a picture of rapt interest. I knew there was no way that she was going to leave with me.

The volume of the music increased even further as the girl began to gyrate her hips and sway around the stage. It was all "strip" and very little "tease" and by the time the song was only three minutes old, she had lost the hat and the leggings and was in the process of unhooking the front clasp of the bikini bra. She may not have been very good, but the primarily male audience was in uproar. Cheers and shouts for her to lose the rest of her outfit were so loud that the sound of the music was almost lost in the din. By the time the song was over, the woman was completely nude and was sitting, spread-legged in the centre of the stage. The "dance" seemed finished now, but the stripper concluded her act by slipping two fingers quickly up and down her vaginal lips before the stage lights went out and she ran off stage in the darkness.

"Thank you... Miss Candy!!" A loud voice boomed in the darkness.

As the cheering and applause died away, the room lights returned and normal conversation resumed.

"Wow," I gasped. I hadn't realised that my throat had become so dry. "I didn't expect to see that!"

"Ah, I've seen better!" Elizabeth replied nonchalantly as she accepted her burger from the waitress. I looked at her for an explanation. I was intrigued now.

"We used to do that sort of thing all the time at school!" she continued, "and we used to go a lot further than that!"

"Wah... what..?" I almost choked on my steak.

"Oh yes, without any boys around we used to strip and masturbate all the time! Of course, some of us liked to help each other!" The last part of her sentence was said with a wicked grin and a glint in her eye. I was finding out a lot more about my new wife than I previously knew!

"You think you can do better, little lady? Then why not give it a go?"

I looked up. The drawling voice belonged to a heavy set, young man in jeans and a cowboy hat. He was standing behind Elizabeth with his hand on the back of her chair.

"Excuse me!" I started, "but I don't think my wife will be... "

"Okay!" Elizabeth interrupted quickly, "sounds like fun! Why not!"

"Because!... because!... because!... " I stammered incoherently. The truth was, I couldn't think of a reason and Elizabeth was already on her feet and walking towards the back-stage area, blowing me a kiss as she went.

"Oh, don't be such a fuddy-duddy, James," she scolded me, "it's just a bit of fun!"

"Okay, guys and girls!" The waitress was back on stage with the microphone. "An extra act for y'all tonight! All the way from London, England... Lizzy!"

Again, the room erupted in cheers and shouts. I watched as Elizabeth strolled out onto the stage. Gone were her tight jeans and sensible white blouse and replaced by an Indian Squaw outfit complete with a short, fringed suede dress and knee-high boots! A brightly coloured headband with a feather in the back completed the ensemble.

Slowly, and to much less up-beat music, Elizabeth began to dance. Her ballet training showed in graphic evidence as she moved her body sensuously to the beat of the music. Her head fell from side to side and, as she surrupticiously allowed the top of the dress to fall to her waist, her young, firm breasts remained semi covered by her long hair. The song progressed and, very slowly, Elizabeth began to spread her long legs and fall gently into a wide splits. The audience clapped and cheered and as she smiled and flipped up the front of the dress to expose her pubic mound, they went completely wild - not only had she omitted to wear a bra, but it seemed that she had also not bothered with panties either!

As she had seen the previous stripper do, Elizabeth sat open legged on the stage and exposed her most private area to the entire room. I was transfixed. Of course, we had made love before, but usually with the lights out and in bed. I was beginning to think that I had married a complete slut!

To rapturous applause and cheers from the entire bar, my wife began to play with her pussy. Her slim fingers slipped effortlessly over her swollen vulva and circled her clitoris slowly. I watched as her head fell back and her mouth opened in a silent moan - just as the stage lights went out!

I was as disappointed as the rest of the bar - I had actually begun to enjoy the fact that the young woman on the stage was my wife! Cries of disappointment could be heard echoing around the room but eventually the noise died away and the bar lights returned.

But then suddenly there were more cheers. I looked up and realised that Elizabeth hadn't moved from her spot in the centre of the stage; she was still sitting with her legs spread and two fingers flashing in and out of her very wet vagina! The microphone was lying on the floor next to her and she picked it up with her free hand.

"Sorry chaps!" she gasped in her clear, clipped English accent, "but I haven't cum yet! I just need a few more... ahhhhh... minutes!"

"Maybe I can help, baby!"

The earlier stripper, Candy bounced back onto the stage completely naked and sat next to Elizabeth.

"Maybe we can help each other?" Elizabeth replied.

The audience went completely wild now, as both girls dropped a hand between each others open thighs and began to finger their open, moist vagina's. The music had stopped long ago and through the cheers I could clearly make out the excited sighs and moans that emanated from each girl as they masturbated each other towards orgasm.

I could see Elizabeth's legs start to tremble and I guessed that she was close. Candy must have though so too and, swinging her own shaking thigh over my wife's body, she manoeuvred them into a classic "sixty-nine" position. The microphone must have still been connected to the amplifier as it lay on the floor next to the writhing girls because the moans and gasps from both of them and the sounds of tongues lashing wet slits echoed around the bar noisily.

As if on cue, both girls climaxed almost simultaneously. Their lustful cries reverberated through the bar speakers as they orgasmed loudly. I could hear Elizabeth's crystal-cut accent as she begged her female lover to tongue her clit harder and faster and to push a finger into her ass. This was a new one on me; never, in the short time that we had been sexually active, had she ever shown any interest in anal play. As I said, I was learning more and more about my young slut-wife every minute!

Eventually the two girls relaxed and rolled off each other. The applause was ecstatic with optimistic shouts of "encore!" being bellowed from every corner of the room.

"Maybe a bit later!" Elizabeth cooed into the microphone as she thanked her audience. "Right now I'm still hungry!"

It was difficult to know what to say to Elizabeth after she had changed back into her own clothes and had re-joined me at our table. Her food must have been cold but she wolfed it down as if she hadn't eaten for a week.

"Exhibitionism always leaves one feeling hungry, don't you think, darling?" she said with a wink.

Fortunately it was a rhetorical question which was just as well; my mind was still turning somersaults and I don't think I could have spoken a word if my life had depended on it!

Elizabeth declined the managers offer to repeat her performance that night. It was getting late and we both wanted to press on to the hotel.

"You know, darling, exhibitionism makes me thirsty as well!" Elizabeth whispered to me as we were about to get into the car. I looked at her inquiringly.

"Why don't you drive and I'll show you what I mean?"

We switched places and I got behind the wheel. It was almost dark now and I had to turn the headlights on before pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the long, straight road. Almost before I'd wound the car up to about fifty, Elizabeth had undone her blouse.

"What are you up to, Liz... er sorry, Elizabeth?" I asked

"Just getting ready, darling! Don't worry, you just keep driving!"

Well, that was more difficult than it sounded. With my wife's young pert breasts on full display it was as much as I could do to keep my eyes on the road.

"This getting you hot and hard, baby?" she cooed as she began to circle her fingers slowly over her hardening nipples. I gulped and silently nodded as my eyes switched back and forth between her and the road. Damn right I was hard! My penis was aching for release.

Suddenly Elizabeth leaned over. Her hands were at my zipper and before I knew what had happened she had hauled out my cock through the open fly.

"I'm still thirsty, baby," she whispered. I could feel her hot breath on my tool. "Are you going to give me a nice drink?"

I almost leapt out of my seat as I felt her warm lips envelop my head and shaft. For a moment, driving took a second place to the wonderful sensations that her butterfly-light caresses were having on me and I nearly drove off the road. As I swerved back sharply, I felt her mouth descend wonderfully and bury my cock in her throat. I cried out and stared ahead intently, determined to keep the vehicle in a straight line.

Slowly and gently, my young wife fellated me. Her mouth gripped me tightly and with her hand cupping my balls I was ready to cum in no time. Elizabeth must have sensed my impending climax because she hummed deep in her throat and clamped her lips around my shaft creating a complete seal. With thoughts of her earlier performance in the bar, these sensation were easily too much for me and, with a deep, guttural groan, I unleashed the contents of my balls in several long, powerful jets that coated the inside of her throat and spilled out of the corners of her mouth.

"Mmmmm... that's lovely!" she whispered soothingly. "Just what a girl needs after a good meal! But once we get to the hotel, it'll be your turn to eat!"

I smiled to myself and stepped on the gas. I could hardly wait!