Jason Cannon - Stripper wife

"Oh shit, but it was good," Chile panted.

Barry lay still as she moved her pussy from side to side, feeling his cock slowly slip from her sheath with a wet, popping sound.

"Think you can do that every day, honey?" she said, smiling down at him as he watched his own cum run from her pussy and puddle on his belly.

"I'll even learn how to read music," he said.

The meeting between Barry and Ellie was everything he thought it would be. She turned white, then bright red, then scooted from the living room to vomit her guts out in the john.

The others were perplexed at her strange behavior, but Chile passed it off as something she had eaten.

Later Barry managed to corner her in the kitchen while the other girls sipped sherry in front of the television.

"Odd, isn't it?" he said, a smirk of satisfaction creasing his face.

"It's more than that," she replied.

"You and Natalie planning on getting married?"

"Jesus," Ellie replied, turning her face from him. "You really like to rub it in, don't you?"

"Yeah… maybe I do at that," he said, realizing suddenly that she was actually miserable about her situation. "I guess that was a little below the belt. I'm sorry."

She turned to face him, her eyes moist with the beginning of tears. "You really are, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "I really am. It was rough, but I've come around to different thinking now, I guess."

"What do you mean?"

"To each his own," Barry replied, his smile telling her that he meant it.

"Then you're not going to tell them… about us?"

"Not unless you want to."

"I'd rather not," she replied.

"Then we won't," he said.

She gave him a light peck on the cheek and whirled away.

The rehearsals were easier than he had dreamed they would be. He was much more of a pianist than he had thought he was. Under Chile's direction, he caught every nuance and mood in their act until, by the end of two weeks, he was way ahead of them.

Then he saw them do their act for real in a hotel. It was for a department store sales, meeting of about a hundred guys. By the end of it, he was sweating blood.

"Jesus," he told Chile afterwards, "it didn't look that way when you had all your clothes on."

She laughed. "Yeah… it gets pretty raw when it gets right down to the nitty-gritty."

It was agreed that he would also act as road manager and do most of the driving while they were on the road.

The first week was, a little shaky, but by the end of the second everything seemed to be running smoothly. He became just part of the family and all the girls accepted him as such. All, that is, except Natalie. She still seemed to mistrust him.

Barry wasn't sure, but he had the feeling that she suspected something about him and Ellie. They had tried to be friendly, but it had been difficult.

On the second, Sunday morning of the tour, Barry popped his eyes open and stretched, luxuriating in the knowledge that it would be a day of rest. He grinned, feeling pleased with himself and the world. Two weeks on the road, he thought, and so far so good. The silence in the trailer told him that the girls were still asleep.

The entrance was in the center. To the left of the doorway was the kitchen and bathroom, beyond that a big double bedroom. To the right was the living room and past the living room was a second big double bedroom. Two girls occupied each bedroom. Barry used the convertible sofa in the living room.

His shorts itched. Barry always slept nude, but his first night in the trailer he'd kicked off his blankets, and when one of the girls came out of the bedroom the next morning, there he'd been, stark naked.

Natalie had been the one to discover him, and since she didn't like him anyway, she raised such a fuss that he promised to wear his shorts to bed from then on.

For the first few days the girls had been very conscious of his presence, and, always wore bathrobes when they were in the trailer. Then, as they became used to him, they relaxed. Now it wasn't unusual for them to walk around in their sheer nightgowns, or with their robes half-open and their naked bodies peeking out at him.

Only Natalie still appeared covered from neck to ankles. Three or four times she'd seen him looking at the bodies of the other girls, and made cracks about the free peep show. Her intense dislike for him was obvious.

He rolled from the bed and started folding it when he heard a sound behind him.

A slim hand closed over the taut muscle of his bicep and he turned to look into the smiling face of Betty Hayes.

"Good morning," he said, lifting and pushing at the frame of the convertible bed.

"Good morning, handsome," Betty answered, her fingers trailing down his arm.

Barry grunted and dropped the bed into its folded position. When he straightened and turned, she was still standing there looking at him. She was wearing a black nylon nightgown, the pink and white of her flesh gleaming through the diaphanous material. His eyes traveled quickly up and down her body, taking in the tiny thrust of her nipples against the cloth of the gown and the darker shadow of her cunt hair.

The material was not so thin that he could see all of her body, but she was standing with the window behind her and the light silhouetted her figure, the outline of her legs spread slightly apart, the curve of her waist and hips and breasts standing out in bold relief.

"Chile's still asleep," she said softly as he glanced guiltily over his shoulder at the bedroom door.

"So what?" Barry said, turning slightly away.

"So if you want to look at me you don't have to worry about her catching you."

"I don't worry about that," he said. "She doesn't own me."

"Then why are you afraid to look at me?" she teased.

"I'm not afraid." He turned back to her and let his eyes run over her again slowly, insolently.

"I like you to look at me," she said softly. "Do you like to look?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"You see me naked on the stage every night and you don't pay any attention," she said.

"It's a little different in a bedroom… or a living room," he shrugged. "Not so impersonal."

Her hands clutched at the filmy fabric and drew it slowly up towards her waist.

"You can see better if there's nothing in the way," she cooed.

Barry said nothing; he just stared at her slowly appearing body. Her gown hung to her ankles, but now the hem was rising over her knees and baring the smooth columns of her thighs. Only a space of two steps separated them. She took a step toward him, and he could reach out and touch her. She took that other step, only inches separating her from his hand.

"Go ahead, Barry. Touch me." She must have been reading the desire in his eyes.

"You're going to get us both in trouble," he said, his mouth watering as the gown reached her belly and revealed the auburn patch of her pubic hair.

"Chile says you've got a beautiful, big cock," Betty said, moving into him until her pubic bush was pressed against the fast-rising lump in his shorts.

"She shouldn't pass that kind of information around unless she wants my cock passed around," he said.

Barry hadn't said so, but he wanted this little red-headed fireball. He had wanted her since the first time he had seen her completely naked on stage. She reeked of sex with every twist and movement of her body. And now, with her cunt caressing his cock through his shorts, he wanted her all the more.

He wasn't sure how Chile stood on his fooling around with the other girls. He guessed that she didn't give a damn, just as long as she got hers. But he didn't want to take a chance and jeopardize his soft deal so soon.

Betty was of a different mind.

"I want this," she whispered, dipping her hand down into the front of his shorts and bringing his rigid cock into the open.