After the Reunion Ch. 09

"Would you like a drink, my dear? It'll help calm your nerves."

She undoubtedly wanted one, probably desperately. But she still shook her head no, telling him, "Diet Coke?"

He waved a waitress over and gave her some money, telling her that he wanted some drink for himself, I didn't recognize the drink's name and a Diet Coke.

Then his gaze looked around the club. Nearly every person was black, only a few white people.

There were a few women, sexily dressed, but no one dressed at all like my Addie was. His gaze landed on the stage, set a couple feet higher than the floor, a stripper's pole in the center, mirrors all along the back wall, and a pretty black woman dancing. He watched her, gradually shedding clothes down to her bra and panties. The crowd was chanting, "More, More," but when the song ended she still had them on.

Jonah leaned over and began whispering to my wife, "Shanice," he said, "a couple things I neglected to mention. I actually own this club."

She looked at him, sharply and mouthed the words, "You? You own it?"

He nodded. "And I've let all the girls know that they're not to remove their underwear. You, my dear Shanice, will be the only one tonight getting completely naked." He paused, looking straight at her, "And you WILL be naked, understand?" His voice had assumed that ominous tone that he knew she understood there would be severe consequences if she didn't comply.

"Tanya?" she peeped out.

"Tanya won't be taking part. Damian decided he wanted to keep her for himself. I suspect they're at home screwing at this very moment. Perhaps tomorrow night, but tonight, you're the star."

Her hands were doing their thing again, the nervousness showing on her whole body. "When?" she asked.

"I don't know. It'll be completely up to our deejay, maybe ten minutes, maybe two hours."

She nodded her understanding. Obviously, she was determined to do this, now that they were there, besides the fact she still knew she had no choice.

He leaned over toward her and whispered in her ear. I was glad his little microphone was so good to pick up his whispering voice, "One more tiny thing,.. that little device; it is a vibrator, but there really isn't a remote." He looked at his watch again, "It's set to turn on at a random time this evening before midnight. And it might not do anything. It's an ingenious little device, has a little computer chip inside it, that can tell when you're aroused. That's what makes it actually start... when it detects you're aroused, it'll start vibrating. As you get more so, it'll vibrate harder." He laughed gently, "All the way up to you having a you-know-what."

She was looking at him in horror, understanding what he was saying, that this thing was likely to force an orgasm right on the stage.

He went on, "So you see, my little slut, Shanice, you have complete control of it. I have no way to do anything with it. If dancing and stripping on my stage doesn't turn you on at all, you have nothing to worry about, you'll never even know it's there... But, if on the other hand... " He let that statement just hang there, knowing what it was probably doing to her.

"One simple rule, though, and it's not optional. I know it can sometimes be pretty, umm, distracting... but you're absolutely not to come until your music stop... and I know that you can do it, too. Do you understand?"

He was looking straight at my wife's face, her horrified, crimson expression showing all the way across our 80" TV. He had just raised the stakes of this little experiment about tenfold. She knew damn well how aroused she was going to be, probably already was. After all, she had already told me how badly she actually wanted to do this and how much it was going to turn her on. Her fear was probably going to just exacerbate that.

He asked again, "Do you understand? When can you come if you need to?"

Her little voice squeaked out, "After the music stops."

"One more little tidbit of information you might notice," he continued to pile on, "those Ben Wa balls you've been so faithfully using? One of the major triggers for my little toy to vibrate is how hard it's squeezed... so you may notice quite a significant effect."

"Oh, and since I know you haven't had any sex for the last week, I expect tonight's experience might be quite titillating for you."

"Enjoy your evening, my little slut... and don't even think about how far this big black cock is going to reach inside that lily-white, whoring cunt."

Jonah watched my wife, occasionally glancing down at her legs, where she'd quit trying to keep that slit in her skirt closed up a little bit. She kept glancing at him, I'm pretty sure trying to ascertain from his face when she was going to be expected to go on that stage. Her face had lost its crimson color, but not the look of reluctance.

Jonah occasionally trained his eyes on the stage. It was really quite well done, about two feet above the floor, steps up the front and a narrow walkway to the back room area. With each dancer, the deejay made a brief announcement, then her music played for around five minutes or so. There was a lot of grumbling from the crowd that the girls, all black by the way, wouldn't take their panties or bra off. Almost all of them were very pretty. Whoever did the hiring, whether it was Jonah, Damian, or whoever, had good taste in women as far as I was concerned. He had some fun zooming his stereo camera in on a couple of the girls, maybe showing off for me. I was still amazed by the picture.

Jonah kept training his glasses on my wife, who didn't know either when that vibrator might start or when her name would be announced. When she got up and said she had to go to the restroom, Jonah told her in a rather stern voice, "It doesn't come out."

"I know," she answered. I was wondering if she was kind of anxious to see what it was going to feel like.

Her nervousness didn't dissipate in the least, though. If anything, as the time went on, she realized she was getting closer and her fidgeting was getting worse. Seeing my wife like that was a major turn-on for me. My cock had been hard much of the afternoon. Watching her walk back to him in that beautiful, formal outfit and heels was like pouring gasoline on my raging fire.

Addie came and sat back down and Jonah asked her again if she was sure she didn't want a drink. It looked like he was shaking his head at her stubbornness when she kept refusing.

She'd been sitting for probably another ten minutes or so when her face changed, her lips curled into an exaggerated 'O', and it was obvious what was happening.

"Oh my God, Jonah, It started." He glanced down and she had put her hands on her knees, pushing them together.

It went on a couple minutes, with an occasional groan from my wife when the current song ended and the dancer exited back into the dressing rooms. It was then that the deejay said, "And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat, here all the way from Boise Idaho, owner of a chain of stores, never been on a stage before... the beautiful Shanice!"

Addie hid her face in her hands and tried to back out all over again, but the crowd was chanting, "Shanice, Shanice, Shanice,"

"It's your turn, slut, remember what I told you earlier. When you're done, put on whatever clothes are left on the stage and come back here. We'll go home and this black cock will fuck you... if you're good."

Shit, I was sitting up, standing up, pacing in front of the TV, barely able to control myself.

Shanice, I mean Addie, stood up and took a hesitant step toward the stage, then her frightened out of her wits face turned and implored Jonah to not make her do it. One problem with those glasses is that I couldn't ever see Jonah's expression. She did, though, and obviously understood his response when she turned and started taking a few small steps toward the stage.

The chanting continued, getting louder when she started up the three steps onto the stage. She looked more like she was going to the gallows than onto a simple stage. I think when she stood there at the top of the steps, looking into the mirrors on the back wall she realized just how exposed she was going to be. There was nowhere to hide, no turning away.

I was concentrating on watching my wife, but Jonah's voice came unmistakably through, although quietly, "Didn't tell her, not only the intensity changes but the frequency changes and it'll pulse instead totally at random. Should be interesting."

Her music started, a relatively slow song. She turned back to face the crowd, probably fifty people, almost all black, watching my wife. She started taking some simple dance steps with the beat of the music and with heavily shaking hands reached up to unbutton the top button of her blouse. Unbelievably, this was actually happening, my formerly conservative wife was going to strip! I honestly didn't think she would. I guess I had underestimated the hold Jonah had on her.

I had even started to think of my wife as Shanice. Jonah zoomed his camera in on her face and upper body, showing how badly her fingers were shaking as she unbuttoned the top buttons of her blouse. At the same time, she was breathing deeply, possibly from the sensations of that vibrator in her pussy. He zoomed the camera back a little where I could see how she was holding her legs so tight together.

She'd undone five buttons, enough that her blouse opened showing her red lace bra. Then more buttons and the matching garter belt came into view. As the front of her blouse fell open, one hand went down to the front of her skirt, rubbing herself over her skirt. Her other hand went up under her blouse, pushing it aside and caressing her breast over her bra. Jonah zoomed back in showing her closed eyes and the moan on her face. Obviously, that vibrator was doing a major number on her.

Shanice was still trying to move around the floor in somewhat of a dance, but it was obvious that it was difficult for her. I wondered if anyone in the club, besides Jonah, knew about the vibrator inside her pussy.

She pushed her blouse off her arms and Jonah zoomed in again. The bra she was wearing was thin and showed her nipples through them. I had never in my life seen a garter belt on a woman; not on TV, pictures or anywhere. It was of the same sheer, lacy material as her bra and hung around her slim waist looking so damn sexy.

From the look on my wife's face; her closed eyes and mouth working open and closed like she was struggling to contain her moans inside her. She bent at her waist slightly, holding her knees tightly together with her hands pressing into the front of her skirt. After a little bit, she moved one hand to the back of her skirt and found the skirt's zipper, pushing it down.

I could hardly believe that I was watching my wife pushing her skirt down to the floor in front of a crowd of people. When it was gone, leaving her in her bra, garter belt, stockings and panties, her hands went back to the front of her panties, rubbing between her legs. She was acting like she was almost desperate to allow herself to come from the stimulation of the strip and the vibrator, which was undoubtedly going harder and harder. I wondered if there was some top level of the stimulation to her pussy.

Jonah had made it clear she wasn't to come until the music stopped and she looked nearly desperate for that to happen. I suspected it wasn't going to any time soon.

Someone had brought a chair for her to sit on to take off her shoes. Her body bent over and she was trying to undo the shoe straps while her body writhed in pleasure. I wasn't even hearing the crowd. It was like they didn't want to intrude on the mood on the stage.

Her hands were shaking again, but she managed to get the shoe straps undone and shoes kicked off. Then she unsnapped each of the stockings, pushing them slowly down off her legs, periodically pausing to let out a moan.

Jonah focused back on her beautiful face, the face I've woken up next to and kissed so many times. I had never seen her before like I was seeing her now, literally through the eyes of another man in the throes of suppressed passion. She was reduced to three articles of clothing; the bra, garter belt, and panties, all matching, all sexy. The panties were like some that Addie had shown me in the past, silky-looking lace, loose-fitting, boy-cut. She said she loves those panties because they're so sexy and has several pairs she wears on special occasions.

Addie had told me several times that a woman wearing matching bra and panties is doing so for a single reason; to get herself laid. I thought Sharice wanted nothing more at that time.

She sat on the chair, pressing and rubbing herself over her panties when someone interrupted her, pulling the chair, then taking it, forcing her to stand.

The garter belt was stretchy and she simply pushed it down over her hips and down her legs to the floor.

Then there were two. She opened her eyes looking around the room, looking almost frantic with a combination of fear and lust. It was like her hands and arms were moving of their own volition, to the middle front of her bra. Jonah's camera zoomed in close filling my big TV with her body from the waist up.

Her hands were shaking as she unsnapped the bra, her eyes looking around the room. I remembered the night of the strip poker game with Tanya and Tanner, two people she had known intimately. When she took her bra off then, she cupped her tits with her hands trying to hide them for as long as possible.

I couldn't imagine what must be going through her mind now; so highly aroused with the vibrator stimulating her pussy, nearly naked in a crowd of people and no one there to give her support except a man whose only interest was to fuck her.

The bra was unsnapped with her hands holding it together and her hips beginning to almost uncontrollably thrust into the air. She held the bra, her eyes closed for at least a minute or two, then pulled it apart revealing her beautiful breasts. She let the bra fall off her shoulders to the floor and pressed her hands against her breasts, caressing and squeezing her nipples. Her mouth let out a loud moan and her hands moved down to her hips leaving her breasts totally exposed. Jonah was still zoomed in on her face and breasts showing her protruding, highly aroused nipples.

When he zoomed back, she had begun to push her panties down her hips. Her legs were tight together so we couldn't see her pussy when he pushed them down, but it was obvious that she was totally hairless. Then my wife, now Shanice, was naked on the stage, her body writhing, desperately needing release from the pent-up sexual frustration that was aching to be released.

Jonah had told Shanice that she wasn't to allow herself to climax until the music stopped. Now that she was actually naked I expected the music to end and I know she did. But it played on as it had for the last ten minutes or so.

One hand pinched a nipple and the other was between her legs, pushing fingers inside herself. She spread her legs apart, writhing and moaning, still suppressing her need. There was still not a sound in the room, except the incessant music that my wife wanted to stop. Her fingers were nearly frantically pushing in and out of her pussy, her face in near agony from wanting.

Shanice bent over at the hips, pushing her legs further apart so she could push her fingers deeper into herself, completely ignoring the crowd in the room who were watching her. I had never seen a performed sex act, live or otherwise, but I presumed they were typically exactly that, 'an act'. This was no act. It was real and it was my wife!

I was rubbing my cock, trying to resist the approaching orgasm I was feeling. I hoped that if she could do it, I could as well. I had no idea how torturous it would be to deny myself.

I was groaning along with my wife when the music finally stopped and there was quiet. I heard a loud groan from my wife, her body bent over nearly double and started shuddering. She cried out and fell to her knees, pushing her knees far apart with fingers inside her up to her knuckles. She pushed her hands in and out of her pussy several times and fell to her side with a loud scream and uncontrollable shudders of her body. Her body's spasms filled the TV and the room with her moans.

My own cum was spurting from my cock along with my wife. I didn't know if the screams I heard were from myself or the stereo system.

Shanice's body continued to spasm uncontrollably on the floor, her mouth finally open in silent screams. It was probably three or four minutes of uncontrollable wracking until she quieted down and tried to breathe again. But her hips were still dry humping as the vibrator continued to stimulate.

She tried to get control of her body and looked around for clothes to put back on. I hadn't even noticed but apparently, someone had removed them at some point. Shanice looked around frantically, trying again to hide the intimate parts of her naked body, looking toward Jonah to see what to do since she had no clothing to put on.

Her face was in near panic when she finally realized what he expected her to do. Shanice stood and slowly stepped down the little steps that it had seemed years ago when the beautiful, elegant woman had stepped up those steps. During the time she was on the stage, my wife had been changed into a sex goddess.

Would I ever be able to look at my wife the same again, as Adriana, not Shanice? As the mother of our children, not a sex goddess? Would she ever the 'Adriana' again, or would she always be Shanice? I felt that in the last half hour our lives had changed permanently. What more was going to happen this weekend?

Shanice walked back to where Jonah was sitting, stark naked. Several people had 'inadvertently' opened their palms and rubbed her thighs and legs as she walked past. She was still walking uncomfortably, her hands pressing against her pussy. She sat down and begged Jonah, "Turn it off, please, Oh God," she moaned.

"I can't. I told you, you're the only one who can make it stop."

My naked wife bent over and pressed her hands against her pussy, "Oh God, Oh God, Oh God," she moaned, nearly in tears. "Can I take it out," she begged.

"Now, here? With fifty people watching?"

"I don't care. I just want it to stop."

"Tiara, put a chair back on the stage," he yelled at one of the serving girls who was walking past. She put her tray down on Jonah's table and moved a chair back onto the stage.

"Okay Shanice, there's your chance, go and take it out," he told her.

She groaned, rubbing her pussy. "Here? At the table?"

"No, at the chair on the stage or after we get home when I'm ready or you can still make it stop. Just turn off your arousal."

He looked down straight into my wife's pussy and zoomed his camera in. Her pulsing pussy, a finger slipping in and out, filled our TV.

"The chair?" Jonah asked.

My fully naked wife, Shanice, walked back up on the stage, still moaning with her hands rubbing her pussy. Jonah filled our 80" screen with her image.

She sat on the chair, looked out into the crowd, opened her legs far apart and pushed three fingers into her pussy. She pulled them out and pushed in again, trying to catch her breath each time. She did it over and over again, bringing herself back nearly to another climax, her beautiful face grimacing with agony and ecstasy.

She stopped and sucked the pussy juices off her fingers, her other hand pinching a nipple. "My name is Shanice. I'm married to a wonderful man who let me be here and now I'm going home with Jonah and he's going to fuck me. If I'm lucky, he'll eventually take this vibrator out of my pussy."

My jaw dropped open in disbelief.

My naked wife walked off the stage, holding her head high. My mind was reeling! The fear I had about five minutes ago had just almost come to certainty. How could we go back?