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JH STRIP camera from gap in



Contains adult themes, consensual sex. Read at your own risk.

Comments and suggestions welcome. Flames cheerfully ignored.

Copyright (C) 1995 by Javahead

For personal use only - if you repost, please include this header.



This is the first one I've written in a few months. I've had the basic
storyline floating around in the back of my head for some time; I
finally decided to write it down. I hope you like it.

I've checked my records, and I haven't reposted any of my earlier
stories since last spring. I'll be posting them over the next few
days to avoid putting too much of a strain on the anon server.




I never thought I'd take my wife to a strip joint. She knew I'd
occasionally gone to them before we met; a few times she'd even
given me her own version of a strip act while I told her about
what they were like.

But visiting our local club was all Nita's idea - a friend had
mentioned the place, and she was curious, and would it be too
much trouble to take her to the show? When she batted her eyes,
it was too much - as soon as I could quit laughing, I gave in.


The parking lot was crowded; the interior, even more so.
Luckily, most of customers wanted as close to the stage as
possible, so we were able to find a booth in one of the back
corners. Only a few heads turned to follow us as we made our way
in. Even Nita's presence couldn't hold their attention for more
than a moment; the dancer on stage was toying with her g-string
as the music built to a climax. A couple of measures later, the
g-string landed atop the heap of clothes already on the floor.

This dancer was good; as the next song started, she launched into
an energetic routine. One minute she was flirting with a man on
one side of the stage; the next, she was doing a rapid spin
around the brass pole mounted at the end of the stage. As the
third verse of the song neared its end, she lowered herself into
a full split, leaning back till her long hair brushed her rear
ankle and her breasts pointed to the ceiling. She held the split for a long count, then flowed back to her feet and began a slow
circle of the stage, collecting tips. Each man along the rail
got a moment of her time and a word or two; a few of the more
enthusiastic ones were favored with a wink, a breast passed
tantalizingly close, or bare foot placed lightly on a shoulder.

As the dancer left the stage to a loud round of applause, I
glanced at Nita. Rather than disapproving, or embarrassed, or
anything else I might have guessed, she appeared fascinated.
When she noticed me look at her, she gave me a mischievious grin
before returning her attention to the stage.

The dancer that followed was good, but no match for the first.
Halfway through the set, I noticed the first was out, still in
her (lack of) final costume, dancing in a booth across the room.
Nita followed my gaze across, and looked puzzled.

"What's she doing over there? I thought you told me that no
touching was allowed, and she's all over him!"

"She's lap-dancing. He pays her for it, and she dances in his

"But she's *touching* him!"

"Not with her hands - and he's letting *her* make all the
contact. If he were to put his hands anywhere but her waist,
those two large men over by the bar would escort him out."

After a moment, Nita grinned. "So it's all under her control?"

"Yes. As long as she's in control, and it's a *dance*, it's
legal. If he gets to use *his* hands, or she uses *hers* too
close to his crotch, the bar gets shut down for the night and she
gets hauled in for prostitution."

Nita grinned again and shook her head. An impish look crossed
her face. "Do you suppose . . ."


Since we'd paid for a table dance, the dancer ("call me Kitty
Delight") wasn't all over me. Quite. Since Nita was sitting
with my arm around her, we were both treated to views as detailed
as her doctor probably got. Nita's presence, surprisingly,
didn't bother the dancer at all, though she *did* look mildly
curious. The look Nita returned was much more so.

Nita took the lead. "Can we offer you a drink?"

"Since no one else wants me to dance ... well, why not? What do
you want to talk about? I was surprised you two called me over -
usually, a couple is all wrapped up in each other."

"I'm sure you've heard this before, but I was curious. What's it
like being a dancer?"

Rather to my surprise, the two hit it off. Since no one else
wanted her to dance at the moment, Kitty seemed happy, and a bit
flattered, to answer Nita's questions. It helped that Nita
sounded curious, interested, and not at all judgemental. By the
time the third dancer was on the stage, I might as well have not
been present - the two women's attention was all on each other.
They didn't even look my way when I got up to visit the men's

Coming back, about the time the fourth dancer left the stage, I
saw Kitty leaving our table for the dressing room. As I sat
down, Nita slid a piece of paper into a purse before leaning
against me.

"What was that?"

"Just her phone number ... and her real name. She's nice - I
might want to call her sometime. I gave her my number, too."

"Real name?" I must have sounded a bit confused.

Nita raised an eyebrow sardonically. "Do you think anyone is
*really* named 'Kitty Delight'? I don't blame her. Who'd want
the publicity in her off-hours?"


We watched a while longer. After two more dancers, "Kitty" was
back on the stage. To my eyes, she was by far the most skilled
of the six. The men surrounding the stage seemed to agree - her
tips were much larger than they'd given any of the others, and
she was doing her third straight lap dance when we left.

Nita was bubbling over as we drove home, reporting the things
Kitty had told her about dancing, and working conditions, and the
pay, and ... I was not at all surprised when she dragged me into
the bedroom as soon as we reached home.


Voicemail is a mixed blessing - people can leave messages for
you, but you can't ask them any questions. And Nita's message,
though clear, left far more questions than answers.

"Hon, I've been talking to Kitty, and heard something
interesting. Be at the club at 9 PM tonight. Sit at the tip
rail. I'll meet you there, but I might be a little late. Love
you, honey."

Fortunately, it was already after 5, so I didn't have too long to
wonder what Nita had planned. Rather than go home, I worked
another couple of hours before leaving for dinner. I pulled up
outside the club only a few minutes early.


Since it was a Friday night, the parking lot was a zoo. Somehow,
I managed to find a parking place and headed inside. Even though
the interior was packed, enough people were sitting in the booths
that there were still a couple of seats open at the tip rail. I
claimed one of them just as the next dancer came on. I wasn't
too surprised to find it was Kitty.

Though she was just as skillful as I remembered, her act hadn't
changed. Still, I enjoyed it, and gave her a generous tip. I
got several envious stares from other patrons when she stopped to
talk with me on the way out.

Even though it was live, our conversation was about as
informative as Nita's message had been.

"Where's Nita?", I started out.

"She'll be here in a couple of minutes. I asked her to do me


"Oops! Sorry, I've got to run. Later!"

I shrugged. I'd just ask Nita when she showed up. It was only a
couple of minutes, and Nita's usually punctual. I took a sip of
my drink and tried to be patient.

Just as the clock on the wall pointed to 9 PM, the next dancer
was announced. I was distracted enough to miss the first few
words of the introduction, but I caught most of it.

"...a young lady dancing here for the first time. From the
exotic reaches of the Far East, please welcome *Jasmine*!"

I grinned as things started to fall into place. The longer Nita
and I've been together, the more I've been attracted to women who
resemble her. Kitty must have told her about the new dancer, and
she wanted to see my reaction. Knowing Nita, she was probably
watching me through the security camera or from a gap in the
curtain leading to the dressing room.

No, not the dressing room - the curtain swung wide for a moment
as Jasmine came on stage. I shifted my attention and watched her
come on stage.

Even though the little of her face that I could see looked east
Asian, her costume looked more like something from the Arabian
Nights, hinting at a slender figure underneath without putting it
on display. Even the veil didn't seem out of place.

It might have been her first night here, but she certainly knew
what she was doing - she was nearly as skillful as Kitty. Though
she'd shed the long outer cloak at the beginning of the first
song, it took her till the end of the second to work her way down
to a silken loincloth and an oversized scarf tied round her
breasts. Amazingly, she still wore the veil. My earlier guess
at a slender figure was confirmed. With her veil in place, she
was nearly Nita's twin.

The feeling grew even stronger as the scarf drifted to the floor.
Her small breasts were capped with dark gumdrop nipples just like
- Nita's! She must have been watching my face carefully; a
moment later she lifted the veil long enough to give me a grin,
but it only confirmed what I already knew. My wife - my shy,
easily embarrassed wife - was the featured dancer. More, she was
*good* at it.

Somehow, I brought my face back under control, and even returned
her grin, but my thoughts were still a tangled mess. Was I
upset, or angry? To my surprise, no. Confused, curious, and
even - admit it! - aroused, but not upset. I settled down to
enjoy the rest of her dance. She *was* good, and she made sure I
knew it.

She was directly in front of me when her hand slid to the knot
holding her loincloth in place and teased at it. Her eyes were
questioning. I doubt if anyone else even noticed my slight nod;
a moment later the knot came undone and the loincloth, too, slid
to the floor. I'll admit that I gaped like everyone else - we
had reason.

I've always told Nita that she has one of the loveliest pussies
in the world, as well formed and delicately colored as a flower.
Apparently, the rest of the men agreed with me. We all had an
excellent view - sometime today she had shaved herself smooth.
Combined with the veil she still wore, it made her even more
naked and vulnerable.

After a pause to let us all catch our breath, her dance resumed
at a faster pace. Her technique on the pole was amazing - she
spun about it so fast that her long hair flew behind her like a
silky flag. And when the song reached its end she slid into a
split nearly as deep as Kitty had managed.

The applause was thunderous, and the tippers enthusiastic. I
slid a ten dollar bill over the rail and waited for her to work
her way around to me.

Her eyes widened when she saw the size of my tip, and she placed
a bare foot on my shoulder as she bent over to thank me. The
motion spread her inner lips slightly; I got a glimpse of
glistening pink and a whiff of musk. Apparently, I wasn't the
only one aroused by her dance.

Her voice was steady, though. "Go claim that far corner booth and
buy a lap dance ticket. I'll be out in a few minutes and we can
talk while I dance for you."


Ticket in hand, I slid into the booth. As soon as the next
dancer took the stage, Nita left the dressing room and headed
towards me. Despite her advance warning, it threw me slightly.
She was still dressed - undressed? - as she had been at the end
of her last song. Even with a new dancer on stage, and Kitty
lap-dancing across the room, several heads turned as she went by.

Though she slid into my lap boldly enough, I suspected that she
was nervous. I gave her my most reassuring grin; it must have
worked, because she lowered her veil and started dancing along
with the music. Though not as polished as her stage show, her
lap dance showed a certain amount of professionalism.

"Are you angry with me?" Contradicting her bold front, her voice
was small and frightened.

"No. Surprised, a little shocked. Confused most of all. What's
going on here? How long have you been planning it?"

"I didn't. Not till today, anyhow. You know how I got Kitty's
phone number? And you know how much it turns you on when I play
stripper for you? I had asked her if she would give me lessons.
For the last few weeks, I've been practicing with her most

Though she'd sounded more confident at first, her voice grew
smaller and smaller as she went on. It would only take one wrong
remark to hurt her. I cautiously picked my next words, trying
for a light tone.

"And today?" Thankfully, I sounded amused.

"The manager called while I was at her place. He was in a panic
- three of the girls had gone up to the mountains for the day,
and had their car break down. They couldn't get back in time -
and he already had one girl off this weekend to visit her mom.
He asked Kitty if she knew anyone who could fill in - if they
couldn't find *someone*, they'd have only two girls for the
evening shift."

"And you volunteered?"

"And I *was* volunteered! I didn't know whether to strangle her
or die of fright when she gave him my name!"

"But you're here, sweetheart. How'd she talk you into it?"

"When she pointed out that I looked as *horny* as it did
*scared!" She emphasized her point by grinding her groin into
mine. "You, too, it feels like." I've always loved her laugh.

I ran an eye down her body. Going by her swollen nipples and the
way she was rubbing her mound against me, she wasn't kidding
about feeling aroused.

"Planning on changing careers?" I wasn't sure if I could handle
*that*, and my voice must have shown it.

"No! Just till closing tonight. Can you cope with that?" She
sounded almost pleading.

"For tonight." I laughed at my own eagerness. "Dance up a storm
- I'll be your biggest fan."

"Will you be jealous if I lap dance for someone else? I had two
men ask for me on the way over here."

"As long as you come home with me, it'll just turn me on more."

She gave me an impish grin. "Me, too! Love you, darling!" She
raised her veil and slid from my lap as the song ended.


I didn't get another chance to talk to her for the rest of the
evening. With only three dancers instead of the usual six, they
were only off stage for twenty minutes at a time - and she hadn't
been joking about men wanting her to dance for them.

Since my tip rail seat had been taken, I stayed in the booth.
From here, I could watch the crowd as well as the dancers on
stage. I was impressed - she danced as professionally, and
nearly as athletically, as Kitty. And now that she wasn't afraid
of making me jealous, she flirted just as skillfully, too.

I was pleased, and flattered, when I realized that she was really
playing for an audience of one: me. Her most dramatic moves on
stage, and her most enthusiastic lap dances, were angled to give
me a clear view. With the short off-stage times, the dancers had
their pick of several offers for each lap or table dance they
could do. Somehow, all of the ones she accepted were close to
where I was sitting.

That isn't to say that she was cheating her customers, though; if
anything, my presence seemed to spur her on. Several even headed
to the men's room afterward; I wasn't certain whether it was to -
um - relieve themselves or to clean up. I could understand why;
if I had been any more aroused, *I* would have needed to clean


As closing time neared, the crowd thinned slightly. I was able to
reclaim my seat along the tip rail. Up close, I could tell that
short rest time was beginning to tell on the dancers. Though
they were dancing as energetically as ever, even Kitty was
covered by a thin sheen of sweat, while Nita gleamed like a
polished bronze statue. I was nearly as impressed with her
endurance as the blatant sexuality of her dance.

Finally, the last set was announced. Rather than continuing the
rotation, all three dancers bounded from the dressing room - and
they were already nude. They seemed determined to end on a high
note - they threw everything they had into their final
performance. By the end of their dance, I was amazed they had
enough energy left to stand.

I split my remaining cash three ways, giving each of them a
healthy tip. Kitty and "Jasmine" must have told the third girl who I was - all three had given me far more than my fair share of
attention. I felt amply repaid when the trio hugged me in thanks
- and was distracted enough I almost didn't hear Nita's whispered
"Wait for me at the bar."


Now that the dancers were gone, the crowd thinned rapidly.
Though it couldn't have been much more than twenty minutes, I was
the only customer left by the time Nita came out of the dressing

Though she'd changed into a short sundress, she hadn't been able
to shower - as she came closer I could smell a mixture of fresh
sweat and musky woman. I could see part of her costume poking
from the top of her handbag.

Short as the wait had been, I was nearly blind with frustrated
lust. After her performance, my only coherent thought was to get
her home *now*. Thankfully, she seemed impatient as I - she
nearly dragged me to the door.

"What took you so long?"

"Waiting to get my pay from the manager. Where's the van? Kitty
brought me in so that I could ride home with you."

She ran ahead of me the last few steps; by the time I got there,
she had the rear passenger door open and was climbing in. She
was sliding the sundress off before I had the door all the way
closed. It was all she had on.

Her urgency was raw, animal. As soon as I had my pants down, she
pushed me onto my back and mounted me. She was slick enough that
her first thrust buried me within her hilt-deep, grinding her
bald pussy against my pubic bone. She held my hands so tightly
on her bare breasts that I half-expected her to be bruised. Not
that either of us cared, at this point. Finesse, gentleness,
caution were all irrelevant. This wasn't lovemaking - this was
fucking, plain and simple.

In the darkness of the parking lot, the smoked glass windows gave
adequate privacy. Not that it mattered, really; by now, we
wouldn't have noticed a standing-room-only audience. And if
there had been anyone close enough to notice how the van was
moving, we would have had one. We both lost ourselves in the
moment, the familiar textures, scents, and sounds of sex.

I whimpered; despite my best efforts to hold back, I could feel
my orgasm nearing. A moment later, it overwhelmed me. It seemed
to be all that Nita needed to send her over the edge - I heard
her scream as she ground her cunt against me a final time before


Neither one of us spoke much for the first few miles of the drive
home. Finally, though, Nita recovered enough to start counting
her tips for the night. I chuckled when I heard a gasp.

"How much?"

"Three hundred something - almost four hundred dollars." She
sounded amazed. "They must have liked me."

"Thinking of taking it up full time?"

"It's tempting, isn't it? But I don't think so. I was nearly as
scared as I was turned on out there - I don't think I could have
managed it without the veil."

I laughed. "You must have been *really* scared, then!"

"Mmm. Yes." She giggled. "But I intend to keep on practicing."

"That's fine, but why?"

"Don't you remember? I still owe you a *private* performance."


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