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I looked at my husband with disbelieving eyes as I asked him again, "I can only say fuck me all weekend long?"

He smugly looked at me and said, "Well you agreed to the rules and you did lose the bet and those are the words I have chosen for this weekend."

I suppose I should explain. Every once in a while, we make bets or dares to go along with the games we play. A while back I came up with a game where the loser (my husband as it turned out at the time) could only say one phrase all weekend long.

One weekend when I lost I was forced to wear only skimpy cutoffs and a very little half t-shirt all weekend long. He took me to the mall on a shopping trip and you can imagine the stairs I got.

Anyway that first time my husband's phrase for the weekend had been "Of course I'd love to." Well it was one of my better weekends when I got to finally drag his ass to the ballet, the flower show at the botanical gardens and the home and garden show. He vowed revenge and I just laughed.

During this year's final four of basketball, we drew names of teams for the tournament and as it turned out my team (a pre tournament favorite) was eliminated in the first round. So by default he won and I had to agree to the terms of the contest.

We have a jar with suggestions that we each wrote down for this type of thing to spice things up a bit. One type of suggestion was phrases, others were clothing selections, place selections, etc. He though had pulled the one phrase ticket.

I went to bed that night wondering what his phrase would be.

He waited till Friday night when we both had the full weekend, like I had had with him, and he told me my phrase would be "fuck me". At first I thought it was amusing but we had had this trip planned to St. Louis for several months now and that was when my phrase 'fuck me' was going to be invoked.

I looked at him and asked, "What about ordering dinner in restaurants or anything like that?"

He said, "Well you'll have to let me do all the talking unless you want to say fuck me to the waiter." He said this with a twinkle in his eye and I knew he wouldn't hold it to me. But little did I know.

Now the reason for the trip to St. Louis was strictly for fun. There is a club in the St. Louis area called PT's, it's actually in Centreville Ill., about 16 miles due east of St. Louis. Just off highway 64 for those in or near the area.

On Saturday nights they have a couples night in their all-nude dancers club. And on Saturday nights couples take over the main dance stage and can dance nude and they can even fuck on stage or anywhere up on the main dance floor area and do it legally. The club has been standing room only for years on Saturday nights and this was our destination for the weekend.

*

I am a compulsive exhibitionist who loves to be watched. I'm happily married to an older voyeur who loves to watch me doing my thing. I am now 24 and my hubby is 49. I married for love and not because I would be his young trophy wife although that is what I am considered. We have been married since I was 16 although I was very mature for my age.

I am 24, blonde, 5 feet 6 inches tall, about 135 lbs, and I still measure out at 34c-22-36 and I keep fit and trim. I have firm tits, dancers legs, a firm butt and I love sex. Oral, anal, straight, and I am bi, love women too, and I am not prejudiced in the slightest.

*

So the weekend arrived, and as usual I packed the required clothes with my husband throwing in some "extras" as well. That Friday night we left our home and headed out on the interstate for St. Louis via I-70 for the twenty-one hour road trip to our destination.

Since our trip started that night, I knew it was okay to just talk. With him I could have an almost normal conversation because I would know when the question he asked would require a fuck me answer.

Our first stop at a truck stop to eat and gas up was uneventful although my cutoffs and t-shirt attracted some comments among the truckers. We caught some shuteye in Russell Kansas, in a truck stop and took off again at daybreak.

On the interstate, my husband requested that I change into a summer dress. I thought that would be a good idea too so I could let the air flow up and under my hem to cool me off.

It was when the traffic began to get heavy and more and more truckers filled the road that things began to get interesting.

As we drove along I-70 eastbound, my husband encouraged me to unbutton some buttons on my dress, from above and from below near the hem. He knew I'd do it without complaint.

As we passed truckers, they looked down and saw quite a bit of me exposed. We could hear their chatter on the CB radio in our car.

After a while I began talking to a particularly talkative trucker who had been following us for the past 80 miles. As he drove along side us and looking down to get his little show, I exposed more and more of my body to him. I even played with myself as he watched.

For some reason we had gotten the idea this trucker was turning off in Kansas City to head down south. There was a rest stop area coming up in 3 miles. That's when my husband said, "Whatever he says next, ask him if he wants to fuck you."

Now I am not easily embarrassed nor am I shy, but this was something going out on the air for whoever was listening and the fact I knew at least ten other truckers were listening, was something else.

At first I wanted to renege on our deal, but then I thought to myself that the next time we played this game and it was my husband's turn to do the deed, he'd have an excuse not to. Oh well I thought, and steeled my nerves.

The trucker I was talking to blabbered something and I without thinking about the consequences blurted out, "So honey, you want to fuck me?"

There was dead air for like fifteen seconds, which in reality was like forever for truckers. I could hear faint cries in the background of "Yeah baby, I'll fuck you!!" etc. But the trucker closest to us drowned them out and he said, "Hey baby, there's a rest stop coming up in one mile, pull in and lets talk about it."

Now all truckers know every truck stop along any given route and I knew we would soon be joined by more than just our trucker. I had asked him if he wanted to fuck me and as we slowed down I wondered how many others would follow us in to the rest area. Was this getting out of hand? Did my husband really want me to do this?

In the truck stop area, the trucker climbed out of the cab of a big old Volvo tracker. He wasn't hard on the eyes. When I climbed out of our car with all but two buttons undone on my dress, his eyes popped.

I walked over to him and climbed up into his cab and we spent about 45 minutes in his bed area in the back while he fucked me any way he wanted. I gave him oral sex, which I really love doing. Then after his first come he fucked me long and hard.

I was surprised that a man who had been on the road like forever, would have that much staying power, but he brought me to several orgasms (nothing great mind you, but good anyway) and still took the time to make sure I was satisfied before he came. All in all it way very enjoyable.

As I climbed down from his cab, I saw quite a few trucks parked near us and I saw all the men's eyes following me back to our car. My husband told me that about 7 truckers had pulled in after we had. I told him I knew. We pulled back onto the Interstate again on our way to St. Louis. After all, I had no intention of pulling a train with a bunch of strange men in a rest area.

*

Saturday night found us at PT's show club in Centreville Ill. And having a good time. Now a word of caution here for anyone wishing to go to this club, all of the male employees are free to ask any female club attendee for sex. That's right, they can ask, not demand. It's open to the public and it is standing room only on Saturday nights. On this night, my phrase would be in force as I had expected.

The funny thing was that the first contacts I had with the employees of PT's were waitresses, when I was supposed to order drinks. My husband deliberately left that up to me.

I looked up at him when our waitress asked me for a drink order and all I could say was, "Fuck me."

She didn't pause, she didn't hesitate, she just said she was on duty till 6 in the morning and couldn't do anything till then. She sort of left it open that after that, she would be available to do whatever I wanted.

Anyway, we were there for fun, so soon we had our drinks, and in short order I was asked to dance by some nice looking guy sitting nearby. When he cam over to our tabled and asked for a dance, all I could say was, "Fuck me."

Without a bat of his eyes, he took my hand and looked at my husband. Hubby just smiled so the guy led me onto the dance floor and we began to dance. His hands roamed freely all over my body, (My shouldn't they? After all I'd asked him to fuck me, so feeling me up on the dance floor wasn't much of a jump. Anyway that was pretty much happing all around us.

After a bit he casually lifted my skirt from behind showing off my bare pantiless ass to crowd watching, and without a by your leave he walked me over to the rail surrounding the dance floor and had me brace myself along the rail facing the crowd.

They watched as he pulled down his jeans and began to fuck me from behind as I stared out on the crowd. It was something to stand there with this stranger fucking me from behind while all those people watched us. My body jerked each time he thrust into me and I could hardly breath I was so hot.

Finally my lover grunted and he held my hips tight as he thrust one final time. I felt his body tense and I knew that he'd done his business. So did the crowd because some of them applauded.

Our little show was rather unusual even for that place. I guess because I was new meat so to speak, I had a lot of requests to dance after that and all of them fucked me against the rail before their dances were over.

Thank god I didn't have to fuck everyone, just those that I had to respond to with, "Fuck me," to. Several girls came on to me as well and from about 9 pm to almost 5 am, I had a great time as the center of attention. I think I was the most active woman in the place that night.

*

For those of you curious, I am not an employee of PT's in Centreville, Ill., however it is a real club and Saturday nights are very sexy. We go there several times a year for the partying. So anyone who lives nearby should check the place out. Who knows maybe some day you'll see me there and we can hook up.

Just ask, "Are you Cheryl?"

END


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