We were five couples with children: Manuel and Maria had six; Mark and Trish had five; Both Missy and I, and Jake and Babs had four, and Sammy and Ellie had three. Manuel and Maria had the oldest child, Elena, at fifteen; Sammy and Ellie had the youngest child, Sammy, Jr., at two.

Almost every Saturday we would do something as a group, even if it was just a backyard barbeque. Occasionally, we'd caravan an overnight trip. We always had ready and willing babysitters if a couple wanted to have a night out, or if we all wanted to have an adults only night, we'd pool our resources. There were eight houses on our cul-de-sac, the other residents were a much older couple whose kids had long ago left the nest, and a younger couple who didn't have any children and had their own circle of friends. The eighth house was a rental, and the occupants seemed to change two or three times a year.

I was a beginning homebuilder, serving as both salesperson and subcontractor supervisor. With four kids, Missy was a stay-at-home mom, but occasionally helped out with the bookkeeping or with home walk-throughs. I thought our life was great, and it wasn't until things started happening to tilt our wagon that it finally went off the tracks.

The first thing was that after dinner, Missy wanted to talk. She began with, "Joey, the girls and I need a night out."

I asked, "What do you mean, sweetheart?"

She explained, "I mean a girls' night out, where the five of us can go clubbing and dancing on our own. You guys can babysit and play poker or watch football or whatever you want to do. If you don't want to babysit, everyone can chip in to pay for it."

I inquired, "When were you thinking of having this girls' night out?"

She replied, "We decided we would like to go out every Friday night, starting this Friday."

I commented, reluctantly, "We haven't decided anything!"

She calmly responded, "I meant that we girls decided that's what we wanted to do. If there's a problem we can change the plan."

I suggested, "Missy, I think this is a big deal. I'm not saying no, but maybe all ten adults need to get together and talk about it. Missy, I love you. The idea of a girls' night out isn't necessarily bad. I just don't like you being away from me and your children one out of every seven nights."

She didn't seem happy with that, but said, "Let me get back to the other girls. Maybe that's what we'll do. I can see that this Friday night might be too soon."

I answered, "Probably not if it was a one-off, but we're talking about establishing a tradition here. That's what I'm uncomfortable with."

She seemed reasonable, "Point taken. Let me get back with the girls, and all of us can decide the next step."

I assumed that all of us meant both girls and guys. It turned out that I was not the only husband with reservations, so we got a two high school senior girls plus Elena, which gave us a three-girl team of babysitters to sit all twenty-two kids at our house, while the adults had our big confab at Sammy and Ellie's house.

Missy

I couldn't see what the fucking bid deal was all about. The five of us had all been moms at least three times; if we wanted to kick up our heels with some dancing, drinking, and even a little flirting, we had earned it. At least all of our husbands weren't being hard asses like Joey. Even after four children, I had kept my looks, and I wanted to have some excitement before I was old and gray. I had joined in the early struggles of Joey getting his business of the ground; I was ready for my pay-off.

The meeting went fairly well. We managed to get all the husbands on board by allowing them to set some conditions. None of the conditions were that serious: No going to private places like hotel rooms or apartments; no exceptions to being home at a reasonable hour; no parking lot rendezvouses with others than our husband; and everybody going home together with rotating designated drivers.

I felt the rules weren't necessary and were somewhat condescending, as if after ten or twelve years of marriage, we still didn't know how to behave. It was as though we were still teenage girls and needed a curfew. At least the husbands didn't impose a hard curfew.

Joey

I thought the whole idea of a weekly girls' night out was counterproductive to the happy marriages we had so far. I think some of the guys felt that after twenty-odd kids, the girls deserved a break, so long as they kept things under control. I was sure we had made a mistake by not imposing a hard curfew; however, the first few girls' nights out went okay. Missy was home by one o'clock and I received the dividend of a passionate wife, once she was in bed. It had been a while since she had been so hot.

Overall, it didn't seem so bad. Even though we had frequent interruptions from the kids, we got to do some male bonding over poker. We rotated and played pool when we went to Sammy's house. When it was warm enough, we sometimes let the kids swim in our pool when it was my turn to be the host.

The every Friday night girls' night out did become a tradition for our five couples and the only times the girls would skip would be when we were able to swing a romantic weekend getaway, a couple of times a year.

The next bump in the road was when one night after supper, Missy told me, "Joey, we need an SUV." I thought we were doing fine with a sedan for adult and business use, and a minivan for hauling the kids around to soccer games and other important kid things.

She responded to my, "I don't know about that," with "We don't like going to clubs in a minivan and besides, it will be more professional when you are showing clients potential building sites."

The latter was a more cogent argument than the former. Hell, they were soccer moms. What was wrong with showing up at clubs in a minivan. They weren't going home with anybody, were they? I did love Missy, and I wanted her to be happy. I did have a good last year, selling eight homes, five of which were closed. The three remaining plus one spec meant that I had four homes under construction at the same time, which was keeping me busy, since they weren't colocated. It was a big help when Missy could do a showing, and she was right that it wasn't professional to be driving a minivan around on raw land. I thought something like a RAV4 would check all the boxes.

I'm not sure exactly how it happened but somehow the RAV4 costing around 40K was converted into an Escalade at over 100K, but nothing was too good for the love of my life, and the mother of my children. I was almost in consensus with Missy on that point, but even with my business becoming more and more successful, one hundred thousand dollars was a healthy hunk of change!

The only other sign of a growing ennui in our marriage was that the Friday night girls' night outs seemed to be creeping more and more into Saturday mornings. Three AM was becoming a too frequent occurrence.

Finally, Jake called a husbands-only meeting. The news was not good. Jake told us, "One of my workers told me that I needed to check out the Purple Cow Club. He hinted that my marriage might be at risk. I am planning to check it out this Friday night. I'm thinking that you guys might want to join me."

Manuel was reluctant, saying, "I've been married to Maria for almost twenty years. I don't think she would ever cheat."

At this time, I didn't really think that Missy would be cheating, but I told Manuel, "It doesn't cost anything to check it out except for a baby sitter and a cover charge. Besides, we need a guys' night out, don't you think." We had all heard that the Purple Cow had some risqué floor shows.

My analysis seemed to create a consensus among the five of us, however we discovered that the cover at the Purple Cow was a flat Benjamin. As a group, It would cost us five hundred dollars to check out what Jake's worker had suggested was important, plus the cost of two teenage babysitters.

Missy

We started driving my new Escalade every Friday night, although the designated return driver rotated among the five of us. Initially, we were having great times, dancing, drinking, flirting with horny guys, and doing a little kissy face if the guy was cute enough. After a few months, it began to get a little routine. Even our constant competition for the shortest, most revealing dress was getting a little stale.

Babs suggested that we go to a strip club amateur night on the fourth Friday night of the month. We went and it was a little exciting to watch other women take all or most of their clothes off. We all agree that parading around with little or nothing on in front of a mostly male audience would be titillating to say the least. We also decided that we had better bodies than many of the women exposing themselves.

As you might have expected, we decided that we would participate in the next amateur night. At the last minute, Ellie and Trish chickened out. However, I came on first, and Maria and Babs were close behind. The manager offered the three of us tryouts to be real strippers. We explained that it was all five of us or none, and pointed out that we all wore wedding rings, it was Friday nights only. The main part of being a stripper that we hadn't done on our amateur night was to give lap dances, which was an important requirement. He also pointed out that we would get better tips if we stripped to a narrow sash only. The sash would provide a convenient receptacle for our tips. The following Tuesday afternoon, all five of us agreed to a try-out with the manager, assistant manager, and three bouncers. Our cover story was a major trip to a nearby, somewhat exclusive, outlet mall. As it was over an hour away from our homes, that provided a justification for the whole afternoon's babysitting.

By the time the try-outs started, we were all damp with anticipation and arousal. I thought it was one of the most fun things I had ever done. Although all of the girls weren't as enthusiastic as I was, we were all on board with stripping three nights a month at the strip club. After performing for a month or two, it seemed like it was getting more exciting than ever. It was probably because of having a whole week to anticipate our shows. One night I was slightly drunk and was offered five hundred dollars to go to the VIP club with a trim, distinguished looking, older gentleman.

I decided I wanted to try it out. It seemed so naughty to not only have some extramarital activity but also to get paid for it. At this club the VIP rooms were individual, small rooms with locks. They barely had standing room after being equipped with a small single bed and straight chair.

I took my G-string off and did a little dance for him. He stripped and showed me a thick dick that was close to nine inches long. Joey's cock is over eight inches, and this was clearly longer and thicker than my husband's. Damn, I was hot for this stranger. I started by sitting him down on the chair, and facing him, I straddled his lap and after a little teasing by dry humping him, I slowly impaled myself. Oh, God, did it ever feel good. I was panting and moaning on each of my pelvic thrusts. I was well lubricated by my own juices, and the sliding up and down on his rod of love was beyond wonderful. I think it was only about a half-dozen strokes until I was convulsing in the ecstasy of my first orgasm. Soon, my arousal was rapidly rising again as I continued thrusting myself onto his organ of feminine joy. I didn't remember ever being so turned on. It might have been as many as ten strokes before I had my next body-shaking expression of ultimate lust. I couldn't stop; I continued thrusting myself on to his fun rod until I once again my body trembled in the erotic pleasure of a mutual climax, as he pumped my love canal full of his cum.

I knew I shouldn't kiss him, but I had to show him how much joy he had given me. I led him over to the bed and sat him down. I kneeled before him, and maintaining eye contact, I began to clean his manhood with my mouth. I continued licking and sucking on his cock and was rewarded with his masculinity becoming erect again. As he seemed to be fully aroused and well-lubricated, I crawled on the bed I assumed the doggy position on my hands and knees.

He needed no additional invitation and rammed his nine or ten inches or whatever all the way to my cervix. I convulsed in another amazing orgasm. I had never had a night like this. He began pounding me over and over and I think it was no more than a dozen strokes until I was again crying out my joy in the ecstasy of climax. He rotated me through the kneeling prison guard and the flatiron before filling me up again as I had my final orgasm of the night. He dressed as I lay on the bed spasming after experiencing no less than a dozen orgasms. He helped me up to a sitting position and counted out ten Benjamins. He said, "You are a very talented woman. This is chicken feed. Give me a call!" He handed me a card with his number, his name, Big Al Simpson, and the insignia of the Purple Cow. The back of the card was purple and in large white letters said, "The best ladies in the state!"

He left and I pulled my G-string on and tried to regain my composure. Unsteadily, I rejoined my four friends.

"Where have you been?" Maria asked, as the others exchanged knowing looks.

I admitted, "I've been getting the fucking of my life. The guy gave me two things besides that." I showed them my small stack of Benjamins, to their wide-eyed surprise. Then I showed them the card.

Babs asked, "What are you going to do?"

Naively, I replied, "I think I'll call him. What harm can it do?"

Joey

Our guys' night out at the Purple Cow finally came. We drove to the club in The building looked like a converted warehouse. It was in the middle of an industrial district. The prominent billboard was actually all we needed to see. It showed our five wives nude. Behind them were five black dudes who were touching them inappropriately.

In for a dime, in for a dollar, well actually the admission for the five of us was five hundred dollars. Each of the other guys had given me their hundred dollars, so I could slap down five Benjamins to the cover taker/bouncer at the door. I was hoping that strategy would give us preferential seating. It did although not in the VIP area, which had tables and seats next to the elevated stage. A thigh high balustrade separated the VIP section from the riffraff. The stage was large for a strip club. Behind the stage was a forty-foot-high screen.

We had got there around nine-thirty with the first show scheduled for a ten o'clock start. The audience area was poorly lit, so I thought the lighting was inadequate for the girls to recognize us. We all wore caps or hats, providing further difficulty for facial recognition. We forked over another hundred dollars for overpriced drinks.

The girls used stage names, but we all recognized Maria as the first performer. Her first number lasted three or four minutes and consisted of simple steps often culminating in a twirl of her cape which showed almost all of her legs.

In the second number, she began with unfastening her cape and spent the remainder of the song utilizing the cape to obscure, yet show more and more of her underlying minidress, which showed both large amounts of cleavage and thighs.

The third number was somewhat similar in that she slowly removed the minidress, and then used it as a shield for her demibra and G-string.

Her fourth number entailed dancing interspersed with removing first her demibra and then her G-string.

Her final number was simply dancing around with various spins, shimmies, and bump and grind moves. Manuel literally cried in his beer, mumbling things like, "My Maria, How could you?" The rest of us seemed to be varying between shock and titillation or both.

Her entire show had been shown expanded onto the large screen. Apparently, there were a total of five cameras feeding the screen. The cameras were apparently were located above and on all four sides of the stage. We were treated to a forty-foot-high image of Maria's performance, alternating between a single one of the five and four simultaneous twenty-by-twenty images. This made recording her performance quite easy.

Our other wives followed in the sequence of Trish, Ellie, Babs, and Missy. They all followed the same sequence of stripping until nude through five songs. We were all greatly disturbed by this performance. I was the first to start capturing the action with my cell phone. The others followed with Manuel being last and too slow to capture Maria's performance. As with Maria, the other four wives' performances were projected onto the huge screen.

The next segment had six well-endowed, extremely black dudes walking out with their ying-yangs hanging down. They began to masturbate, and the MC brought out a ruler. Once the six were fully erect, he measured each in turn. Then the six bucks lined up in order of length from nine-and-a-half inches to a very full eleven inches.

While this was going on, we were distracted by our loving wives joining the gentlemen seated at the VIP tables while still nude from their performances. This was even more astounding than the previous segment as it became apparent that their collective objective was to fuck all the guys seated at the VIP tables. Virtually all the audience was lined up at the restraining barrier, making it possible for each of us to surreptitiously capture our own wife's behavior on our cellphones. There was a slight delay after the six dudes filed off the stage, while our wives finished up their work in the VIP section to the approval and applause of the remainder of the audience. As the wives finished up in the VIP section, they went backstage. Meanwhile a bed and a chair were rolled out.

Maria performed next, beginning with a nude and suggestive dance. Next came the applause greeting the nine-and-a-half-inch fellow. He and Maria dirty danced for a few minutes doing everything possible to increase their own arousal and that of the audience. Then the fellow laid down in the bed with his fully erect nine-and-a-half male organ pointed at the sky. With absolutely priceless facial expressions, Maria impaled herself on his massive cock and began bouncing up and down to sound system amplified moans and groans. Her verbal exclamations broke Manuel's heart. As to the other four of us, our turns were all coming. After Maria had two explosive and obvious orgasms, the fellow moved to a standing position. They embraced and kissed. Then he lifted her by her buttocks onto his bulging maleness. She wrapped her legs around his waist and began ramming her pelvis against his, impaling herself on each stroke. She cried out her erotic joy in ever-increasing volume. Following this he took her in the standing prison guard position with her facing the audience. On several of her orgasms, her eyes rolled back into her head.

After about twenty minutes and a multitude of positions and orgasms, Maria and her partner were replaced by Trish and her ten-inch partner. Twenty minutes later they were replaced by Ellie and her partner. Next to last was Babs. It was then that the reason for the sixth black guy became apparent. Missy's performance was to be a threesome with Mr. ten-and-a-half inches, and Mr. eleven inches.

I will never be able to forget her performance. It started with her alternating sucking the guys' huge cocks. Then she moved the chair so that she could lay one leg across the bed and brace herself on the chair so that she could lean forward fully exposing her ass and pubis to her audience and her partner with the K-Y. She intensely moaned and groaned as he applied the K-Y to the exterior and interior of her ass. Just to make sure he fingered her ass, and her moans and groans were assurance enough she was adequately lubed.