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Dealing with My Past is Complicated

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“Marc, we need to leave. Now!” I told my husband emphatically.

We had been at the office Christmas party for less than an hour and most of the guests appeared to be having a great time. The party was hosted by Marc’s boss, Robert, and Robert’s wife, Diane, at their lovely house in an upscale neighborhood. Normally I would have wanted to stay until much later in the evening. But the encounter I just had made that impossible. I had to leave as soon as possible.

“Why? The party is only getting started.” Marc questioned my demand, apparently unwilling to leave so soon. “You love parties like this. And you know that it’s important that we make a good impression for my boss.”

Marc and I had dressed up for this party. I wore a new, little black dress which accentuated my fabulous figure while displaying quite a bit of my cleavage and most of my long, shapely legs. Marc loved to show me off to his friends and co-workers. And I loved the looks I got from all the men. Indeed, as with most parties we attended, I was the center of attention and I relished that role. But not this night.

I was aware that Marc’s new boss the past nine months was a difficult person to work for. Some considered him a tyrant. But Marc loved his job and the company, other than the overbearing boss. He was willing to put up with his boss being a hard driver, if it would help Marc advance his career. And attending the boss’s annual Christmas party was expected of everyone in the company, regardless of whether you liked him or not.

“I know you had to attend this party. But things have happened that mandate that I leave as soon as possible.” I pleaded with my husband. “Trust me. I’ll explain everything when we get home.”

Marc shrugged his shoulders and accepted. Soon we were saying our good-byes to our hosts.

“Thank you for inviting us. A lovely party.” Marc said to Robert and Diane while shaking their hands. Robert smiled graciously at Marc until Marc turned towards the door. Robert then turned to me.

“We will talk more later.” Robert said in a stern voice as he glared at me.

An hour later, Marc and I were home, lounging in our living room. We had changed out of our formal holiday clothing, and were dressed in more comfortable sweats, what we usually wore when we home. Under my sweats, I wore my sexiest underwear, a red lace shelf bra and matching red lace thong. I knew that Marc loved it when I wore red underwear.

Sitting side by side on the sofa, I took Marc’s hands in mine, looked into his eyes, and took a deep breath. I knew this day might come. I had hoped it never would. And now I had a lot to confess to Marc, hoping he would be understanding and forgiving. I was scared about what Marc would think about me and the things I had done.

Marc and I were married about four years ago after dating only a few months, and we hadn’t shared much about our pasts. Mark was tall, about six foot four inches, with dark hair and eyes, and was very handsome. I also was tall, about five feet ten inches, flowing red hair with green eyes, and a killer body with a set of 38 Double-D tits, an hourglass figure and long legs. Many told me that I should be a model. But I had chosen a different path in life.

“Your hands are trembling.” Marc said as he looked at me with concern.

“Maybe a nightcap of scotch on the rocks will help.” I replied.

Marc got up to make both of us a drink. I took another deep breath. From his quiet demeanor, he knew I had something serious to discuss.

“Here you go Babe.” Marc said as he handed me a good sized drink. He sat next to me, raised his glass to mine and offered a toast.

“Happy holidays.” He said.

“I hope so.” I replied a bit meekly.

We each took a sip of the strong liquor. Marc watched me patiently.

“Sorry I made us leave the party so early. I know being there was important to you, and your job.” I began. “It was absolutely necessary. But before I get into the details of what happened tonight, I need to confess some things I’ve never told you.”

“Things to confess?” Marc said with a puzzled look on his face. “I’m all ears.”

“In the four years we’ve been married, I’ve never given you a lot of details about my past, and you were kind enough to never ask for details. I suspected you knew I was reluctant to talk about my past. And I appreciated that.”

I took another deep breath and another sip of the scotch.

“You know I was orphaned as a child and raised by my aunt and uncle. They were very kind to me, but didn’t have a lot of money to spend on their own kids, much less on me. They helped their own kids get through college, but could not be so generous with me. But they raised me to understand the importance of getting a college education. So, basically I had to earn my own money to pay my way through college. Summers I worked and saved all my money for school expenses. And I found part time work during the school year. Initially I worked at a drug store. The bakırköy escort pay was okay, but the store wanted me to work the day shift which interfered with my class schedule. So I quickly looked for different work.

“One Friday night I was out with my friends, drinking and dancing at a popular nightclub. The guys all thought I was really hot, and even some of the girls said I was hot and danced really well. Suzy suggested I could make some money dancing at frat parties. I was curious and asked her for more details. She told me she had been hired to dance at a frat party the next night. She just had to wear some sexy club apparel and dance for a few hours. I asked if she was expected to strip and she replied ‘No, just dance in a skimpy outfit.’ And she added that the frat house was willing to pay the same for her to bring a friend. She asked if I wanted some easy money. I asked how much, and she said $100. I thought that was good money for a few hours. When I told her I was willing to split the $100 with her, she said ‘No, $100 for each of us.’ I replied that I would do it.

“The next day Suzy and I went shopping for our outfits. I found a really sexy satin and lace bralette top and a matching pair of satin hot pants. I also bought some 5 inch high heels. That night the frat boys were so pleased by our dancing, we each got paid $150. It was all safe stuff. Only a few times did some guy get handsy with me, but that was okay. Word got around about our dancing duo and soon we were being paid good money to dance at parties most Friday and Saturday nights.”

I could tell that Marc was very interested in my story. He was shifting his position. I knew that was a sign his cock was swelling. I pulled off the top to my sweats, exposing my sexy shelf bra which was barely holding in my 38 Double-D tits. Marc smiled approvingly.

I continued my story.

“Then one night, I was approached about dancing at a bachelor party. They would pay me $300 but I would be expected to strip, not totally naked, but strip down to only wearing a skimpy G-string. I would also be given tips, above the $300 base pay, slipped into the G-string. I thought about whether I wanted to do that or not, but I knew I could really use the money. I decided to do it.

Stripping at that bachelor party was a bit scary and also a real thrill. I would be alone, nearly naked, with a group of drunk men. What I didn’t anticipate was the adrenaline rush I got dancing and stripping for about 15 horny guys. They really loved how I moved for them, and they really loved my sexy body, especially my tits which many of them groped at least once. Once down to my G-string, they were slipping ones and fives into my string. I was scared the string might break, leaving me naked in front of all of them. When I finally told them the show was over and I needed to leave, they upped the tips to fives, tens and even a few twenties. I danced another hour for them and earned $300 as my base pay and another $300 in tips. The experience was scary, thrilling, and very rewarding.”

I took another sip of my scotch and then set down my glass. I stood up in front of Marc and slowly slid my sweat pants down, revealing my sexy red thong. Wearing only my bra and thong, I began swayed my hips as if dancing to music. Marc was getting aroused. I sat down next to him and slipped my hand into his pants, taking hold of his hard cock.

“Are you okay knowing that I stripped at a bachelor party?” I asked my husband.

“Yeah, I suppose so.” Marc replied. “It wasn’t like they paid you for sex.”

I swallowed hard.

“There is more to this story.” I said. Maybe he didn’t want to hear any more, but to explain tonight’s actions, I had to tell him.

“Oh?” He said, half as a question and half as an exclamation.

“I have to tell you the rest of this story Marc. You may not like it.”

I paused, took another sip of my scotch, and continued my story as I held his cock.

“The money was good, and I definitely needed the money to pay for school. Suzy and I continued dancing for frat parties, all clothed and fairly safe. I occasionally was hired to strip for a bachelor party. I was paid more for those, and earned good tips. Stripping for a bunch of horny, drunk men was definitely scary yet also thrilling. Fortunately no one ever seriously pressed me for sex.

“Word got around and sometimes I was hired for a private party at a frat house, which was basically doing a strip routine similar to what I did at the bachelor parties. It paid better that just dancing at their normal parties. But I didn’t get as much in tips, and they always tried to get me drunk on beer. I assumed they wanted to take advantage of me. So I decided to never drink when I was stripping.

“Suzy introduced me to one of her friends named Bambi. Bambi was a couple of years older and wasn’t a student. She was a dancer at a local strip club and Bambi was her stage name. Bambi took me to the strip club and had beşiktaş escort me audition for the club owner. He liked what he saw and agreed to hire me to dance in his club several nights a week. And by dance, he meant a full strip to totally naked. He gave me what I later learned was the usual line. His club did not tolerate prostitution or drugs. I later learned that they actually did both. The money was even better, and I would have a regular job, not just hoping someone would hire me to dance at their party.

“So I quit my day job and gave up doing the bachelor parties and frat parties. I was Jessie in school and became Candy at the club. I worked four or five nights a week and what I earned not only paid for school, but for a larger apartment and I bought my own car, used or course. Soon I was one of the best strippers at the club. I was often propositioned for sex, but always turned it down. I learned a way to let the men down gently and make them feel a bit embarrassed that they had even asked. The result was that they often tipped me even better for the dances I gave them.”

Marc appeared conflicted. Maybe he didn’t like learning that his wife had been a stripper, but on the other hand, maybe he thought it really hot that he married a stripper. It did explain why I was so good dancing in public, or privately for him. He always enjoyed when I stripped for him. He just never knew I used to get paid stripping for other men.

“Why haven’t you told me this before?” Marc asked. He almost sounded hurt.

“Once I graduated from college, I closed the door on that part of my life. It became old history I didn’t want to relive or even talk about. I wasn’t proud about being a stripper, but I did what I had to do to get through school. I hoped that I could escape my past.” I replied.

Marc nodded his head, as if he understood my position.

“Is that all the story?” Marc asked a bit tentively. “How does that tie to what happened tonight?”

“Not all of the story. There is a bit more.” I replied.

Marc’s cock was hard and I wanted to see it. I pulled down his sweat pants and boxer briefs, exposing his beautiful large cock. I gave the head a quick lick and slowly stroked him as I continued. I decided I needed to be honest and blunt about this last part of the story.

“Honey, I have to be totally honest. Earlier you said that at least I wasn’t paid for sex.” I said slowly. “Actually, for a few months I was.”

I bit my lower lip. Tears were forming in my eyes. I lowered my face in shame.

Marc placed his fingers below my chin and raised my head back up. He looked into my eyes with a concern I had never witnessed before.

“Tell me about it.” He said in a soft, loving tone of voice.

“My last semester of college was really hard. I had left my most difficult classes to the end. I needed to spend more time studying, so I spent less time stripping. Lack of money quickly became a problem. Guys at the strip club still propositioned me for sex. There was this one, very kind gentleman who was a regular at the club. One night he asked me again to go home with him for $250 and I said yes. He was actually a caring lover and used protection. I felt very awkward knowing that I was getting paid for sex, while actually having a reasonably good time with him.

“That first time being a hooker led to another and then another. I was choosy about my clients. No drunks, and only men that treated me with some respect. Very quickly I was turning tricks two or three times a week.

“But at the end of my last semester, I really needed to study even more for final exams. So I had cut back on my stripping and turning tricks to one night a week. However, I was again short on money. I wasn’t going to have enough to pay my rent. Then my car broke down in a big way. The repair estimate was nearly a thousand dollars. I had to have my car so I could get to the club to work. Bambi gave me a ride one time. I told her my predicament and that I needed fifteen hundred bucks.

Bambi told me she knew a way for me to earn that much in one night. I was astonished, in disbelief. ‘How?’ I asked her. I was desperate and would consider almost anything. She knew of a well-to-do gentleman named Bob who each year arranged his own special private birthday party for a few close friends. He not only wanted a great stripper, but a whore to fuck he and his buddies. One night, two thousand dollars.

“I asked Bambi how she knew about this. She told me she had done it the previous year, a gang bang by five men. They were all very polite and respectful to her, as much as men can be respectful to a stripper who agrees to a gang bang. But Bambi had learned her own limits of self-respect, and she wouldn’t do it again, unless she was in such a dire financial situation. She added that it appeared I was in such a desperate situation.

“Long story short, I took the job and spent an entire night in a luxury penthouse hotel suite giving the beylikdüzü escort best striptease of my life to six rich men who then proceeded to fuck me one by one all night long. They were respectful in their own way. They all used condoms and allowed me breaks to recover, drink water or use the bathroom. They paid and tipped me very well. In total I earned over three thousand dollars, cash.

“That was the last time I exchanged sex for money. I quit my stripper job at the club. I took my college degree and quickly found an honest job and shut tight the door on my stripper past, hoping to never re-open or think again about that part of my past.”

I sat there drained by retelling this experience. Tears continued to flow from my eyes.

Marc was shocked. Tears welled up in his eyes. He gently held me in his arms.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” was about all he could say. Then he added, “What about tonight?

“I never again saw Bob, the man who hired me for his birthday party, until tonight when I was introduced to your boss, Robert. Yup, same guy. I wasn’t sure if he remembered me or not. As Candy, the stripper, I wore a platinum blonde wig and very heavy makeup. Now I am a natural red head and wear light makeup.

“Tonight, a short while into the party, I had to excuse myself to the bathroom, which was in the back, at the end of a hallway. When I stepped out of the bathroom, he was there and blocked my path. ‘Hello Candy’ he said to me in a lewd way. I told him my name was Jessie and he had me mistaken. He replied that he knew who I was and what I was, a cheap common whore. He insisted that I fuck him again, for free, or he would tell you my past just before he fired you for violation of the company morals policy as you were married to a prostitute. I told him he couldn’t prove that. He asked if I remember the photos that were taken of me fucking him and his friends that night.”

I began to cry uncontrollably. Between the sobs and tears I begged my husband, “Can you forgive me? I likely have destroyed your career, or at least cost you your job.”

Marc held his emotions in check. I wasn’t sure if he was more angry at me, or with his ass-hole boss, Robert.

“Did he say anything else?” Marc asked.

I fought back my tears.

“He told me he would be sending you to corporate headquarters next week for the annual two-day company executive meeting. You would be representing the local office. While you are away, he intends to fuck me in our bed. If you don’t go, or I don’t agree, he will try to humiliate you by exposing my past, and then he will fire you.”

“That bastard will not get away with this.” Marc assured me. “I know you wanted to keep your past locked away and it was very difficult for you to tell me all of this. I needed to know. Thank you.”

“I was scared to tell you. Very scared.” I replied. “But in a way, this has been cathartic. I feel I’ve had the burden of my secret past lifted, only to now face a new nightmare.”

He held me in a tight, loving embrace. I sensed he was thinking.

“I may have a plan, but first I have a few questions.” Marc spoke. “When you performed at Robert’s birthday party, how were you dressed? Were you dressed as Candy? Would anyone really recognize you in a photo, dressed like that?”

“Yes! You’re right. I was dressed up like Candy, blonde wig and all.” I replied. “I doubt anyone would recognize me in photos, unless they really knew me, and Candy quite well.”

“Do you still have the wig? Can you dress up again as Candy?” Marc asked.

“Yes, I can do that, wig, makeup, slutty outfit, the whole package.” I replied.

“Good. I doubt his threat of using the photos is a problem.” Marc said. “I have an idea how we can stop Robert, and stop him for good. But my plan requires you to fuck him one more time. Am I asking too much of you?”

I was very conflicted about having sex with Robert again, especially since he was blackmailing me, and intended to greatly harm us by exposing my past and firing Marc. But I had tremendous trust in Marc. I would do about anything to save his job, even fuck that bastard Robert.

“What’s your plan?” I asked.

“Remember that company we used to install our security system? Marc asked.

I nodded my head.

“They install security cameras. We have a few outside our home. I can get them to install two or three hidden cameras in our bedroom. I’ll tell them we want to record a few private movies. Then I’ll let Robert send me to headquarters next week. You let him come have his way with Candy while I’m gone, and we’ll video record the whole event. Make sure it is Candy in the video. Then when I get back, I’ll share the video of Robert fucking Candy with his boss, Tom. I know Tom fairly well and I know he implemented the company morals policy. I’m sure that Tom will fire Robert in an instant. And I doubt Robert really has any evidence to use back against us. And if we really want to fuck Robert over, we also share the video with his wife, Diane. She’ll divorce his ass and take him to the cleaners. “

“Yeah. Let’s do that.” I quickly replied.

Marc took me by the hand and led me to our bedroom. He removed his clothes and lay on our bed.

“Show me your striptease one more time.” He asked.

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