I have discovered that I enjoy horizontal dancing when my husband Paul is away. Babs and I have been to the club every night. 

On the fifth night the doorman made a call before letting us in.

"Please come in, I'm the owner, Martin." He took us to his office.

"Are we in trouble?" I whispered to Babs.

"Let's see what he wants."

"Please take a seat ladies. Now don't worry I'm not after a cut of your activities, but it must be dangerous leaving with strangers each night."

"What do you suggest?" Babs asked.

"We have rooms out back. You can use them, no fees, just make sure your guests buy two drinks before you take them to the rooms. I want you to be clear I do not employ you or take any cut off for action. The barmen will make sure you do not get drunk. Would you like to see the rooms?"

"You don't want anything to use the rooms?" Babs asked.

"Not a thing, just ensure they buy a few drinks."

"Let's see the rooms." I offered.

The rooms were tasteful, not too frilly with large bowls of condoms. 

"We have never had any trouble, but if there is, just press this, the camera" he pointed, "will start recording and security will be here." We went down the corridor. "There is a shower in here and a place to tidy up. This is Deselda. Deselda has the same deal as you. Have a chat."

Martin, the owner, left. 

"I saw you about, it's good here. Don't hit on my regulars and give the security and barmen a few freebies, they will look after you. Don't bother with George, he is married to a hopper, and she keeps him on a short lead."

"Hopper?" I asked.

"We can't call them bunny girls,  they serve the drinks, they are not allowed to fuck."

"Why not?"

"Martin, is very careful."

"OK."

"See you about."

I was working the club. I sat in a cubicle with  a watered-down vodka. "Good evening."

He looked me up and down. "Would you like a top up." 

"Thank you, yes."

A hopper appeared with drinks and a card reader. 

"I like your dress."

"Thank you."

"It would look good on the floor of my bedroom. How much would it cost?"

"How much do you think?"

"£50"

"It's not Marks and Spencers."

"Where did you get it?"

"How much would you pay to see the label?"

"£80."

I shook my head.

"£100…..£150…..£200."

He paused after £200, I said "Yes, you can see the label in my dress for 200. Let's drink to it!" I signaled a hopper who bought drinks.

Most of the drinks were left on the table. I took him to one of the bedrooms. I kicked my two inch heels off.

"You can look now." I turned my back.

"I don't know that brand."

"It still costs you £200." I held my hand out.

He handed over the cash. "I'm paying for sex."

"No you're not. We agreed £200 to see the label in the dress. Your fucking me for free." I dropped my dress and turned back to face him. I helped him undress. 

There are three kinds of men in the club: those who don't fuck, those who know what they want, those who I guide. 

This man was the last kind. I stripped him. Sat on his cock and fucked him. He was happy. I was back in the club looking for the next man within an hour.

The following day Paul  my husband was home. Babs offered to fuck him so I  had something on him if he discovered my night time activities. I thanked her but said no. I never went to the club while Paul was home.