My wife and Melisa would intake some smoke, then blow it into each other’s mouths. Their tongues would dance together as they did this. My pheromone... went into overdrive. The weed and the show had me oozing control. ‘Different music I think.’ My wife said when we had finished. She selected a playlist developed by one of my club’s DJs. It was labeled ‘classic stripper tunes.’ Motley Crue banged out ‘Girls, Girls Girls’. You cannot get anymore classic stripper than that. My wife danced over to. My dear, it appears that th...things have gotten toocompli...complicated. I'm sorry, but this is the last ti...time. You're aliability now, so ...go clean out your desk and vac...vacate the premisesimmediately." He hadn't noticed yet that his voice was up an octavealready and mousy brown hair was brushing his ears."I thought we had something special, sir!" I cried, playing the petulantvictim even as my own tone lowered and my dress got terribly tight. ButI was smiling within, knowing that I was. More

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