Walking on clouds for the entire week, Tina’s feet seldom touched the ground; such was the intensity of her extreme arousal. During a drunken night of sisterly bonding, culminating with the two of them fingering themselves, side by side, they each admitted to their twin that they wanted to strip on stage. Tara had either forgotten that booze-fueled conversation, or she was just indulging her sister’s fantasies. She was so excited, filled with horny lust, over the thought of stripping that her fingers were constantly in her soaked cunt.
She constantly masturbated at work, even once while tending bar, with oblivious customers drinking her concoctions mere feet away, the high bar top covering any view of her dirty self-love. Tina fingered herself every morning, fantasizing about what she had to do. The fact that Tara had thought it up, effectively making her do it, removed any guilt, feelings of being too slutty, or ability to do anything except accept the challenge and get off over it. Her car became a finger-fucking safe place, making the drive to and from work, the store, or just out enjoying the scenery an adventure.
“Just three more days, and you’re a trashy, stripper slut,” Tara teased.
“I’m going to do it, just so you have to do the chores, but I don’t like it.”
“Then why do your nipples get hard every time I say, ‘Stripper slut?’”
“They do not, and quit staring at my tits. That’s creepy.”
“Stripper slut... BOING!”
“Fuck you, you skank.”
“Since we’re identical twins, isn’t that like masturbation, you slut?”
“You bitch.”
“Slut.”
“Skank.”
“Whore.”
“I’m not a whore; I’m going to be a dancer.”
“You sound just like Bunny! Remember her?”
Bunny was one of their father’s myriad, very temporary girlfriends. An exotic dancer, which meant stripper, she was bubbly, sexy, and very vocal. It took the twins months, instead of their usual couple of days, to send her away, screaming into the night. Her real name was Beatrice, and her best friends in high school were identical twins. She didn’t succumb to the switcheroo or their psychic twins' gambit; they had to resort to outright, malicious trickery to get her to leave. The Pumphord twins didn’t necessarily hate every other woman who came into their father’s life; they were just looking out for him. Cheating, gold-digging strippers might be fun in bed, but Bunny wasn’t wife material, at least not in their identical, dark brown eyes.
“The North twins were my best friends in school,” they said in unison. “I used to help them with their routines. That won’t work on me.”
That was what she had told them when they did their “she must go,” act, speaking together. To make a long story short, some creatively acquired cellphone texts and picture exchanges had to be utilized to make her flee. Their father, Kevin, was so irate with them that they were grounded for three months, the entire summer, until they showed him the copied text messages she’d been sending her sugar daddies. Mr. Pumphord never remarried or had a girlfriend longer than a couple of months; they saw to that.
“Well,” Tina began, “since you’ve upped the ante, shall we add cooking to the list of chores you’ll be doing or add another week.”
The side-bets for their game had reached epic proportions, both refusing to surrender. Laundry, cleaning the townhouse, taking out the trash, housekeeping service for the other’s room, and, now, preparing the meals were at stake. Since neither would welsh, they had to keep playing until one of them reached the breaking point.
“Sure, slut. That is if you also want to play chef when you chicken out on Friday. I’ll get you one of those silly hats.”
By the time Friday arrived, both of the twins had worked themselves into a sexual stupor. Their reasons differed. Tara was anticipating a night alone, with the place all to herself. She’d even bought a textured, contoured fantasy dildo to play with. It was huge, thick, and long. She also eagerly awaited her next challenge; the two of them were exactly alike, so Tara knew that the follow-up dare would be epic. It had her so aroused that she was masturbating as often as her twin.
For Tina, stripping in a club was one of her go-to fantasies. She knew how sultry and sexy she looked, and she loved the sexual attention. If Tara hadn’t exaggerated, Jack’s huge cock would be a good bonus, as well. The Pumphord residence reeked of lady sex the entire week.
Finally, it was time for Tina to hold up her end of the bargain. A white, sheer thong, thin enough to show the hints of her finely manicured, naturally blond pubes, and a matching, open-cup shelf bra were her main choices. Lace boy shorts covered the thong, and a frilly, sexy miniskirt and slutty vest, designed to be worn with something underneath, as it was very revealing, covered the bra. Whorish makeup, applied by Tara, and teased-out hair, making her look like an 80s, rock-video slut, finished the ensemble.
“There you go, you fucking, trashy whore. You look like a cheap slut out to get fucked,” Tara teased.
Jack arrived early, looking quite dapper in pleated slacks and a button-down. His dark hair and features gave him an exotic, sexy aura, and he smelled clean and arousing. Aside from being young, handsome, sexy, muscular, and well-endowed, Jack was also bold and brazen. He hadn’t even set one foot through the front door before he had wrapped his hands around Tina’s slim waist, one hand cupping her perfectly-shaped ass, kissing her passionately on the lips.
“Are you sure that you want to do this?” he asked, making Tina feel safe and respected, as he’d asked for consent. Most guys don’t do that, and it made her horny arousal ignite, the fires of her lust reaching dangerous proportions.
“Pull out that cock when we get to your car, and you’ll see just how eager I am,” she smiled, her voice sounding sensual, husky. “I’ve been dying to see your cock,” she paused, remembering that as far as Jack knew, he’d already fucked her. “Again!” she quickly added. “Can’t get enough of your pants-monster.”
“Almost busted,” Tara whispered to herself from her hiding spot. “What a fucking whore I have for a sister.”
Tina, in the car, was true to her word. Although Jack may have felt she was just saying things to act horny, the slutty blond was grappling with his belt and fly before he’d even put the key into the ignition.
“Wow, that’s a fucking monster cock you have there. I wonder if I can stretch my jaw enough to blow you. Let’s find out.”
“Fuck! Kevin was right, Tara, you suck a mean cock. Deeper.” The car swerved as she lunged her lips over his shaft, sucking as much of its thick length inside her mouth as she could.
She attempted fingering herself while she sucked Jack’s cock, but the two layers of clothing between her gushing pussy and her fingers were too complicated to move to the side while hunched over the car’s center console, so she rubbed herself over her layers of panties. That wouldn’t make her cum, but it would get her so worked up that her lusty enthusiasm would, perhaps, enhance her stripping debut.
They pulled into the club’s packed parking lot, and Tara kept on sucking. His cock was so big that, with the car parked, she used both hands to stroke him while she vigorously swirled her tongue over the tip, her head pounding up and down as if she were cum-starved, which she was.
“If you don’t stop, you’re going to make me….oooh, aaah, fuuuck.”
Jack couldn’t help himself; Tina’s oral talents were only matched by her twin’s. The car rocked up and down, shocks and springs squeaking, as the young man released a torrent of hot cum into her greedily sucking mouth. Not wanting to sully her dancing clothes, Tina gulped and swallowed, taking his entire load down her throat. His cum burned in her stomach, making her feel nasty, dirty, and slutty.
“Just make sure you get that thing up, later, so you can stretch my ass and take me. Let’s go inside. I can’t wait. Buy me a few drinks after we do shots. I can be extremely raunchy when I drink.”
“Wow, Tara. I can’t believe Kevin broke up with you. What an asshole!”
“His loss is your gain. You might to zip up before we head inside. You’ll scare the ‘little people.’” Tina laughed as she made more air quotes. “Just get that thing up for me. I’m so fucking horny; I can take on an entire army.”
The interior of the strip club, named Club Emerald, was typical of most strip clubs. Gaudy, with dim lighting in odd coloration to make the dancers seem sexier, more exotic, dark colors and neon accents were everywhere. Sexually-themed prints lined the walls, mirrors everywhere. A bored-looking brunette, physically dancing but without any enthusiasm, leaned against the center pole of the stage, her ass grinding against it. It was tacky with added bits of classy, all of that clashing with the flamboyancy of the decor.
Tina, flashing her sister’s ID, was let in for free, but Jack had to pay twenty dollars for admission. Looking around, she saw a good cross-section of masculinity arrayed about the club, lounging in overstuffed chairs, lining the stage at pervert’s row, and playing billiards in the back. Various women of all shapes, colors, and sizes milled about, all of them mostly undressed.
“Be a good boy, Jack, and grab those two chairs at the front of the stage. I’ll head to the bar.”
The lusty male gaze, something both Tina and Tara were intimately familiar with, washed over Tina as she slowly, casually strolled toward the bar. Businessmen in suits and ties leered at her swaying hips, each accentuated footfall tailored to attract attention. Construction workers stopped chiding each other to drool over her shapely ass, each of them bragging to the others about how they’re, “Gonna get some of that.” Rockers in black leather and chains stopped staring at the dancer, opting to gaze at her hard nipples, bouncing along with every step’s boob jiggle. The revealing, slutty vest did little to hide her bosoms.
“What’ll ya have?” The sexy but tired-looking blond bartender asked.
To Tina’s eyes, she appeared to have been a dancer who grew a bit too exhausted to strip any longer. Her mind created a stream of logic that took her from a bright-eyed dancer to a surly bartender, which made her smile.
“Four shots of tequila, please, plus one long-neck beer, a double whiskey sour, no rocks, and sex on the beach. I think my date would also like a beer. Do you have a playlist for me to audition? I’m thinking about dancing.”
“First time? Stripping-virgin?” The older woman’s face softened, humor erupting with her smile. Tina only nodded.
“Well, you have the looks and body for it. Attitude is everything, though. We’ll see. The name’s Emma.”
“Ti…umm, Tara.”
“Real name or stage name?”
“Real name.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice betraying no emotion. The bartender slid a tablet over to her. It was connected to the sound system with a long, twisted cable. “Let me see your ID. Type your stage name here,” she pointed to the tablet, “and select three songs. You’re to be down to lingerie or underwear by the end of the first song, topless by the second, and nude by the third. I’ll tell you how this all works, plus the rules here, while I fix your drinks. You sure a sweet little thing like you can hold your booze?”
