A bored housewife’s experience with a black male stripper

As a young white suburban housewife in the 1980s I
often became bored with mundane household chores
including caring for my two young children. My husband
was a great father and the love of my life, but
something was missing. Without his knowledge one
summer evening I arranged to drop my kids off at my
parent’s house telling my husband that we were going
to spend the night at the lake. After dropping off the
kids I met up with a girlfriend at a club in the city
that was showing a performance of Chippendale Dancers.

As the night went on I particularly enjoyed the
personal contact as the dancers moved into the
audience for a more close-up view by the women in
attendance. One dancer especially caught my attention.
He was a handsome black man with a great body and
ebony skin that glistened from the active workout. His
name was Bobby and I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.
Sensing my interest, he repeatedly positioned himself
right in front of me to dance his pelvic thrusts.

As he looked into my eyes I felt my focus move to the
enormous bulge tucked into his thong and back-and
forth to his eyes. Each time he came by my seat I
could feel his intensity growing and my heartbeat
racing. I ran my fingers over his sculpted chest and
six pack abs. As the show was winding down at the end
of the evening my girlfriend decided to call it a
night and head for home.

I had a final glass of wine as I watched the last
dance of the night. As I was heading out the door I
noticed several women waiting outside to see the
dancers come out. I decided to wait as well when
several Chippendales emerged including my handsome
ebony dancer.

I shyly approached him and expressed how much I had
enjoyed his performance. Without hesitation and with a
smile of confidence on his face, he responded to my
comment with “if you enjoyed that perhaps you would
like a private performance”. I asked where that
performance would be to which he responded “in my
hotel room”. With my heart racing and feeling the
tension of the moment I accepted my favorite
Chippendale’s offer.

I was 33 and he was 22. Walking across a pedestrian
bridge toward his hotel he stopped briefly to enjoy
the full summer moon glistening off the still river
water below us. As we enjoyed the soft summer breeze
he pulled me tightly to him and kissed me lightly
before proceeding to his hotel. I could feel my heart
racing and my panties getting moist in anticipation of
Bobby’s private performance.

As we entered the elevator going up to his room, Bobby
pushed himself against me pinning me to the back wall.
This time we kissed deeply as I felt his lounge
exploring and exciting my senses. I could feel the
heat of his crotch pressing against mine. As the
elevator opened on his floor I remember the excitement
and couldn’t wait to get into his room. Slamming the
door behind him, my ebony performer eagerly began
removing my clothes just as I did to him.

Standing only in my soaked black panties I tore off
Bobby’s thong and was staring at the most perfect cock
I had ever scene. I was immediately on my knees
sucking his beautiful rod. My mouth was barely able to
open wide enough to accept his shaft. Without
thinking, and for the first time in my life, I was
deep-throating a cock that seemed to be going half way
down to my belly.

The more I sucked on him, the wetter I could feel my
pussy getting. After a little while he pulled me up
and pushed me on the bed. Within seconds my
Chippendale had my panties off and my legs spread. The
beauty and the anticipation already had me near orgasm
as I felt his lounge stroke my clitoris. I shivered in
anticipation and pleasure with such a beautiful man
servicing me. Feeling intensity of my clitoral orgasm
within seconds I begged to have Bobby inside me.

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