My lover and I spent a couple of days in Vegas, along with some time in various other places visiting family. We stayed at one of the casinos and spent some time at a strip club called Cheetahs. My husband thinks that I'm going just to accompany him, but in actuality I really enjoy going to strip clubs--the dancers are usually beautiful and their sexy dancing really stirs my bi tendencies! After we sat down and bought a couple of drinks, we started to look around at all of the different dancers. I could tell that there was one in particular that my husband kept looking at--I've known him long enough to know what piques his interest--she was petite, slim with firm breasts and long black hair that went down to the small of her back. She was probably Vietnamese from the look of her pretty face. I could tell he was trying not to be too obvious in his staring, probably wary of making me feel jealous, and when i asked him if he found her sexy, he gave a non-chalant shrug. "Liar" I laughed at him, and he giggled sheepishly.

"What do you think of her?" he asked. I said I found her very sexy, but probably not as much as he obviously did. But in actuality I was intrigued by her, especially as I watched her dance. She moved in careful, controlled flowing lines, and yet with a simple joy that was so different than the jaded gyrations of some of the other dancers. We decided to splurge on a lapdance from her and called her over, asking her how much. She smiled and gave us a price that was less than the usual rate where we live and so we immediately agreed. She chatted with us for a bit until the next song began, asking us where we were from, telling me how pretty I was (I'm sure my blushing was obvious even in the dark light of the club, but she wouldn't have noticed the flush I felt in my pussy lips and the moist heat that suddenly appeared). When the next song began she slipped sensually up and down in front of me, and then my husband, moving her hands around her body and showing us her perky breasts--she went back and forth between us, although she definitely was more explicit with me. During the second song, she took my index finger and slipped it inside her, bumping and grinding up and down on it five or six times before taking my hand out and bringing it to her lips and licking my finger clean--I was very surprised how wet she was, and she kept her eyes locked with mine the whole time. On the third song, a slow dance, she only gave my husband about a minute, rubbing her ass on his crotch until I could see the tent of his cock in his pants. As she moved over to me, she dropped her lace throw--a black lingerie wrap that she had been wearing around her shoulders--into his lap and then she took my left hand and placed it underneath the lace wrap and onto his crotch. She smiled at the both of us as she used my hand to slowly jerk him off through his slacks. My husband was obscenely hard, and I knew that a few more minutes of this and he would come in his pants and leave a mess! Before that happened, however, she took my hand off him and put it on her breasts, staring into my eyes as she used my hand to stroke her nipples in the same way that she had just used my hand to stroke his cock. With her other hand, she held the back of my head and pressed my face into her hair and then into her neck and breasts, inching her whole body slowly upwards along mine. The smell of her perfume filled my head, and I could taste the saltiness of her skin as her flat stomach rubbed past my face. She put her knees on the arms of the chair I was sitting in and put the crotch of her panties right up to my lips. I could smell the muskiness of her cunt--a tangy scent very different than my own, and I realized that she was genuinely wet--I could feel it through the lace of her underwear.

After rubbing the wetness of her panties on my chin and nose she pulled away and slid her body back down so that our faces were touching. She put her mouth to my ear and whispered quietly "Do you want to taste me?" I immediately whispered "yes." She was gyrating the mound of her pussy against mine, and I was arching my hips up off the chair so that she could grind against my mound. I couldn't open my legs to get my pussy up high enough for her to rub against my clit, but I could still feel the tugging of my lips against my hard nub as she ground against me. She whispered again in my ear: "Do I make you wet?" I nodded and said yes again. "I think your husband is getting jealous..." I looked over at him and saw that he had the excited crazed look that he only gets when he is insanely horny. It's almost as if he has lost all reason, and I remember the first time I saw him like that, when we had first started dating, it actually scared me because he looked like another person, his face was unrecognizable in his lust, and in this state I truly believe he is irrational and acting purely on lust and instinct.

My attention was drawn back to the dancer, however, as she moved slowly up my body again, kneeling astride my chest and rubbing her pussy against my breasts. I had worn a low cut dress, and so as she ground her pussy mound on my left breast, the friction pulled my top down and exposed my nipple, which was of course as hard as a pebble. She must have noticed immediately, or even planned this, because she took her right hand and pulled the crotch of her panties (which were basically only a thin strip of lace) to the side and slipped my nipple into the slit between her lips. I immediately felt her wetness coating my nipple, and she rubbed up and down again and again, each time with increasing pressure until I could feel the hardness of my nipple catching against what I assumed was her erect clitoris. I closed my eyes and just gave in to enjoying the sensations. Just as I was beginning to lose myself in the reverie of the pleasure that this was giving me, she pulled away. I thought the lap dance was over, since the song had just ended, but I was surprised to feel the warm heat of her pussy suddenly in front of my face. My nostrils were overwhelmed with the scent of her pussy, now even stronger than the last time, and just before I opened my eyes a fresh wave of muskiness hit me as she again pulled her panties to the side. Her lips were less than an inch from my mouth, and without thinking I stretched my tongue out and touched the tip into the "V" where her lips met, flicking upwards into the hood that hid her clit. She immediately pressed her hips forward and my tongue slipped between her lips. The slick mucous of her juices covered my tongue right away, squeezing out onto my lips and chin. She began pumping her hips up and down against my mouth and nose, just as she had against my breast, gently at first and then with increasing pressure. After five or six strokes she was literally mashing her fleshy lips against my face, coating my nose and chin with her wetness. I'm not sure how long this went on, probably no more than a minute, but it felt like an eternity, especially when I felt her toes (she had the tiniest feet, smaller than my hands...) digging into my crotch. I could feel myself climbing towards an orgasm, and from the increasing wetness on my face and the flicking of her clit back and forth over the tip of my nose, I could sense that she was getting near one as well. But she suddenly stopped and climbed down, leaving me hanging and in a daze. I looked at my husband and could barely catch his eye--they were wild with lust. She thanked me and said she had to go, giving me an apologetic smile. I couldn't really think straight at that moment, but could only muster a thank you as well.

We gave her a well deserved tip and I was wondering if it was part of the etiquette to ask if she would come to our hotel room and give us a private dance or even spend the night with us, but in my confused state I missed the moment to ask. We both stared after her as she walked away, her slim hips and thin legs leaving us forlorn. We were both so horny we immediately went to the car, drove back to the hotel while fondling each other, rushed up to the room, and fucked like crazed dogs in heat!

I was asked by someone in an email how I could deal with my jealousy over my husband's dalliances with other women. Maybe our encounter with the stripper in Las Vegas--I realized in horror later that night that we didn't even get her name--is a good indication of what our relationship is built upon. My lover of course is attracted to other women, just as I am attracted to other men and to other women. The key for us is that we share those attractions and crushes with each other, even if it causes jealousy and even if it hurts.

I don't mind at all hearing about all of his sexual adventures from his days before we met, as well as afterwards. In fact, I insist that he tells me everything. As I was explaining to my online friend Bob, I get jealous sometimes, of course, and it's unpredictable when and with whom I react in this way. I guess both of us have tried not to compartmentalize our feelings--sex is sex, and when we both have it with others it is strictly sex--but the feelings we have with others need to be brought into our relationship, no matter what. What I mean is, if I start to feel a strong attraction to a man, and it begins to feel like more than a casual sexual fling, we need to convert those feelings into ones that strengthen our relationship. The same goes with our jealousies--anger, lust, even respect and the stirrings of emotions that feel like love--all of these need to be expressed and channeled into how we feel towards each other. I think that's why my jealousies of his former lovers ties in so closely with other feelings of anger and resentment that I feel towards him (for not cleaning the dishes, or watching too much sports, or leaving me with the kids while he's on a business trip...). I sexualize that anger, just as he does. So when he thinks I'm telling him what to do once too often, or that I'm "nagging" him to clean the house to the point that he starts to feel resentful, instead of hiding that resentment away so that it stews and becomes a simmering anger, he'll let me know that he wants to dominate me and he will release his resentment by fucking me violently, or gagging me as he fucks my mouth hard, or being particularly rough while fucking my ass. Afterwards, he will be particularly tender and loving towards me, as if he is asking forgiveness both for treating me roughly but also for being angry with me earlier. We make love not only while we have sex, but in making up afterwards for the pain inflicted during sex and also during our daily lives. This short explanation of course simplifies what is a very complex love, but perhaps it will explain a little about our relationship...