Side Hustle

Side Hustle

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A few weeks ago my wife, Miranda, announced she’d gotten a part-time job.

Not being a very inquisitive guy, I congratulated her and moved on. The extra money was nice, and I didn’t feel a need to ask questions.

Then one night a bunch of guys from work invited me to join their buddy’s bachelor party. Since they had been excitedly jabbering about a live sex show all day, I didn’t need much convincing. Miranda was working that night anyway, so there was no real reason I needed to be home.

After work, we hit the lounge the guys had rented for the night. The space was small with plenty of leather armchairs all circled around a single center platform. The stage was covered in a thick bed of comforters. A bunch of pillows lay scattered across the top. Above the platform hung a massive glittering chandelier, which cast a soft golden glow. The only other light came from the votive candles flickering on the side tables that dotted the room.

A busty redhead trussed up in a tight corset top stood behind the bar, smiling easily at each of us as we toasted the groom with the shots of scotch she had at the ready for us. Once the back-pounding and congratulations had stopped, she addressed us.

“Good evening, gentleman,” she purred. “I’ll be here to serve you throughout the evening, should you require anything wet. If you’ll leave your drink orders with me now, you can take a seat and get ready to enjoy the show.”

After relaying our various preferences, we each settled down into the plush armchairs circling the platform. I ended up with a front-row seat near the groom.

Within moments the lights near the bar dimmed, while those of the chandelier grew brighter. A door behind me clicked open, then two women brushed past me.

They crawled onto the center platform, both with their backs to me. Of course, what I could see was already making my cock twitch: a voluptuous brunette wearing a silky pink kimono that highlighted her hourglass figure and a willowy blonde who was clad in a long, sheer black robe.

The ladies settled into a pile of pillows, still denying me a good glimpse of their faces. Then the blonde turned, and I swear my heart stopped. Looking back at me was my wife! Our eyes locked. She tried to appear calm, but her wide-eyed stare betrayed her panic.

My mind quickly mulled over what to do. Though I was shocked, I definitely wasn’t angry. I had no intention of calling out my wife. To be honest, the idea of watching Miranda fuck another woman was pretty thrilling. The fact that a room full of strangers could look, but not touch, while I would get to fuck this woman later only added to the thrill.

Miranda didn’t have anything to worry about. To reassure her, I offered a slow wink and she smiled. Then I settled deeper into my seat and prepared to relax and enjoy the show.

By now a fresh tumbler of scotch had appeared on the table by my side. I took a mouthful of the rich liquor and let it roll over my tongue. Nothing had even happened yet, and already I was anticipating the release I would experience later when I finally got to fuck my wife — the sex star.

The ladies onstage introduced themselves to the audience. My wife gave her name as Roxanne, and her friend called herself Desiree. After assuring the men that masturbation wasn’t only acceptable, but enthusiastically encouraged, both women slipped out of their robes.

Miranda arranged herself so I had a perfect view. Reclining in the pillows, she parted her legs to reveal her glistening pink pussy.

Desiree slid her hands from Miranda’s ankles to her thighs, spreading my wife’s legs even wider. She hovered over Miranda, playful nipping at her inner thighs.

Then Desiree straddled my wife’s chest, facing the crowd and using her thumbs to part the lips of Miranda’s pussy. 

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