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Chapter 2

The problem, at this moment, is that my wife just doesn't see the humor in nude erotic sex; and it's not just this moment, it's been the problem for quite some time.

My wife comes home early and she walks in on me and the woman I'm dancing and having an affair with. The situation is funny because my wife walks into the bedroom and I'm dressed in her black panties and bra and the woman I'm having an affair with is dressed up as George W. Bush and she's saying, “Are you or are you not a patriot?”

My wife goes, “What the hell is going on here?”

The woman I'm having an affair with and I both look at each other and we start to laugh. We can't help ourselves.

My wife goes, “What the hell is so funny? I don't find this funny. I don't find this funny at all.”

“I'm sorry,” I say.

“You're sorry?” she says. She turns and leaves. Her face is red and she's in a huff.

“Do something,” the nude woman I'm having an affair with says.

I go after my wife—and this has to be funny because I'm still wearing my wife's erotic black bra and panties.

My wife is in the kitchen dancing up and down with anger and she's getting one of the large carving knives.

“What are you doing with that?” I ask.

“I'm going to stab you, you bastard sonofabitch,” she says.

“No you're not.”

She does.

She stabs me right in the gut. Funny how it doesn't feel like anything at first, like nothing at all. You can't believe it really happened, and you look down and see all this blood coming out and you know it's real and then it feels really bad, I mean it hurts, and your body gets cold like you are nude on a winters day, and you stumble back, and you say something like, “I can't believe you just did that,” and you think: I'm going to die wearing women's erotic underwear.

The woman I'm having an affair with comes into the kitchen—she's still wearing the blue suit with the red tie—and she screams. I've never heard such a scream.

My wife doesn't scream. She stabs the woman I'm having an affair with several times. She kills the woman I'm having an affair with, dancing around the body. There's blood all over the place.

“Is it something to laugh about?” my wife asks.

I say, “No.”

Chandra put the pages down and drank some coffee.

“What do you think?” Vincent said.

“You write some weird erotic shit,” she said, “but I still like you.”

Chandra thought her naked brown skin looked good against the white sheets on Vincent's bed.

“God, you're hot,” Vincent said.

“Yes,” she said, “I am.”

She spread her legs for him to see. He was standing by the bed, and he was also naked. He stroked his cock in his left hand.

Chandra touched her pussy.

“What are you waiting for, a sexy dance?” she asked.

“Do it for me,” he said.

She attacked her pussy—that's what it was like for her. When she masturbated, she went to town. She sat up and stuffed her entire fist into herself.

Vincent obviously liked watching that and her erotic nude dancing.

When she did that, he blew his load. A stream of cum flew over her head and hit the wall.

They both laughed at that.

“Bravo!” she said.

“Bravo yourself,” he said.

She took her hand out of her pussy, with a wet plop. Vincent jumped into bed with her and they kissed.

Chapter 3

Jeff went from Shella's new apartment to Wendy's old apartment two miles away. Shella didn't know he had a girlfriend— he'd had her for some time now.

Wendy was nineteen and an erotic dancing freak.

She was hog-tied on the bed, just like he'd left her: nude and tanned and bruised from his previous beatings. There was a red ball-gag in her mouth. She tried to say something when she saw him. There were tears in her eyes.

“How do you feel, bitch?” Jeff said.

He moved, slowly, towards her; he cracked his knuckles.

He smiled sexily.

He removed the ball-gag.

She coughed. “You bastard,” she said, “you asshole,” she said, “I was just about to suffocate to death!”

“You're alive.”

“Release me!”

“Beg all you want,” he said. “Go ahead, beg.”

“You left me naked like this too long.”

“You loved it.”

“Where did you go?”

“It doesn't matter,” he said.

“What are you going to do?”

“Fuck your mouth and dance on your grave.”

“You'll break my jaw,” she said.

“Then I'll break it,” he said.

He fucked her mouth like he'd fucked his wife's mouth; it took him a while to come. Wendy was in tears, gagging like he liked a woman to gag on his dick not exactly erotic.

He untied her and said, “I'm going.”

“Where are you going?” she said.

“I'm not coming back.”

She laughed, like he was joking.

He wasn't joking.

“This is over.”

“Fuck you, you asshole,” Wendy said, and she meant every word.

Wendy picked up the phone and called Gene. Gene was a guy at work she'd fucked a couple of times. He was a good-looking guy. She didn't need Jeff. Jeff could go back to his wife for all she cared.

Gene answered his cell phone.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” he said.

“What are you doing?”

“Watching TV,” he said.

“Wanna come over and play erotic dancing?”

“I wish I could.”

“Meaning?”

“I'm exhausted.”

“Who was she?”

“Are you naked?” he said.

“I want to be naked,” she said.

“Get stripping,” he said, “now.”

She held her breath, then said, “Okay, baby, I'm nude just for you.”

“Play with your nipples,” he said, “and make them hard.”

“My nipples are hard,” Wendy said, “just thinking about your cock.”

“You want my cock.”

“I crave your cock,” she said. “Is it out? Do you have it in your hand?”

“It's in my hand, and it's hard.”

“Are you stroking it erotically?”

“I like watching you masturbate,” she said.

“Where this cock belongs,” he said, “is in your ass, deep in your filthy little ass.”

“Oh,” she said, “I would like that.”

“I bet you would like to dance nude while I do it.”

“Yum.”

“Wench.”

“Yum.”

“Are you playing with your pussy?”

“You know I am,” she said, and she was, one finger going inside her between her lips.

“I want to hear you come,” Gene said.

“How are you going to make me come?”

“I would have you bent over the couch, right in front of your window,” he said, “with the lights on, so your neighbors could see, so anyone walking by could see. I would have you bent over and your ass lubed up and I'd fuck you up the ass right there in front of the window, bent over the couch.”

“Yeah?” she said, her finger circling her clit.

“Would you like that?”

“Yeah,” she said, her body shaking.

“I bet you'd like that.”

“I'd love it, baby.”

“You'd come hard with my dick in your ass,” Gene said, “I'd come right up your ass.”

“You're an assaholic.”

“I like a good butt.”

“Maybe you're gay.”

“I only fuck women's butts,” he said.

“Oh shit,” she said, and came.

“That's it,” he said softly on his cell phone.

Silence.

“Come over here, we can dance the night away” Wendy said.

“I'm going to sleep nude now and have erotic dreams of you dancing sexily.”

“Bastard.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Wendy hung up.