Her anxiety lifted as we came out through the revolving door on to the street. The fear of the consequences of letting a complete stranger fuck her just minutes earlier began to she stepped out, gripping my hand tight and smiling a little. She perhaps would realise later that there was a chance I may have planned it but for now that fear of losing everything was passing. To be frank, the dress was the kind of dress a wife would only wear out when her mind was panicking about being found out..when her guilt was overwhelming her and when she was ready to do anything to save herself.. I have never seen an outfit so sexy out on the street and there is no way my sweet wife would have worn that anywhere outside the bedroom in any other circumstances... Yet here she was..striding on to the London streets..completely sober...in those thigh high boots still stuffed with cash and a dress so flimsy and small that it flashed her body with almost every movement. The high splits on each inner thigh rose up each time she stepped forward and if her cunt had not just been shaved bare would have left revealed her pussy hair at each step. Her tits were barely constrained by the silk bands that covered not a lot more than her swollen nipples. I was worried that her high would wear off so decided to ply her with drink. Foe the next hour I paraded her around central London - I refused the quiet corner of the champagne bar, forcing her to sit perched almost impossibly on a bar stool... At best the outfit was one to be dropped off in a taxi to the door of a club...it certainly wan\'t one to have to wear to climb the steps of a bus...it was quiet as we got on but as we walked from front to back to go back down ths stairs there was quite an audience ..and it was impossible for her to get down the stairs without giving the packed downstairs a full view of her pussy... We went to more bars...we made a quick trip by tube...forcing her to try and sit by me mid-carriage amongst the leering blokes...with covering herself fully sitting down virtually impossible... she had to cope with offering another free pussy show as we went up the escalator... Any inhibitions were now long gone and she was in a frenzy of excitement at the continual arousal of this long display... Then we slipped into a lapdancing bar and took seats by the stage, ordered some drinks from the hostess and watched as the strippers took their turns in front of us... We must have been there an hour or so when a guy from a large group came over who had been eyeing my wife up for some time. \'If this guy is too tight to pay you for a dance then I think you should come over here darling\' he said to her. She froze - outraged that someone would think she was a lapdancer, despite the fact that she was dressed like a hooker and still had a hundred quid down her boots. \'She\'s with me I replied.....maybe you can get her to dance for you later!\'I said as i smiled at my wife. She was relieved he had left but obviously turned on by the suggestion and I caught her repeatedly glancing around for them when she thought I wasn\'t looking. When the hostess next came to us I tried to set-up my wife\'s greatest fantasy. It wasn\'t anything outrageous - she had just always wanted to receive a private lap dance from a girl and this was the time. She needed little persuasion and swiftly skipped up the stairs hand in hand with a gorgeous brunette to the VIP area on the next floor. I quickly found the guy who had propositioned her earlier - \'she\'s all yours\' I said \'she\'s new and too nervous to dance on her own. She needs the money as she\'s down on the night but she won\'t take it from me. Perhaps you will have more luck\' and I pressed two hundred quid into his hand. \'She\'s in one of the VIP booths\' He headed upstairs and some of his drinking mates followed. I got myself a pint and drank it as slow as could make myself but then had to get upstairs to see what was happening. As I set-off I realised the girl who had gone upstairs to dance for my wife was now stripping on the main stage...but there was no sign of her. As I reached the top of the stairs that feeling of nervous panic set in as I worried about my wife\'s reaction. Had I gone too far now? I raced around the VIP floor, glimpsing behind each curtain and seeing the dancers all at work then at the far end I found a last booth with the curtain slightly open and was faced with the most confusing, sexy, shocking image i could imagine as my wife was on all fours in the middle of the booth, being watched by two men, her dress gone, her thigh high fuck-me boots once more stuffed full of cash, her head buried in the crotch of the guy from downstairs, sucking him furiously off, whilst his mate had his cock banging away into her shaven pussy.