The Shadow Grove Chronicles - Book I: Fated Reunion

V - Lady Amelia Rides to Hounds

I followed my husband to a dive bar far outside of town. The gravel that made up its parking lot crunched under my tires as I parked far enough from the door and in shadow so there would be no way Derrick could see my black sedan. Not that he even looked around. He had parked close to the entrance and walked through the swinging double doors without ever looking back.

After sitting there for two hours waiting for him to emerge, Derrick stumbled out, nearly tripping on the single half-step leading down from the porch. After swaying at the truck door from the effects of too much alcohol, fiddling with his keys, he managed to get it unlocked. He almost fell as he attempted to get in the truck, managing to climb into his seat to drive off back into town.

He stopped next at a run down house in the poorer eastern section of town, parking on the street before running in, not even bothering to cut off the engine. There was no room in the driveway. The place was packed with far too many cars blocking the entrance. I was two blocks away but I could tell a trap house when I saw one. The music was loud enough for me to hear it all the way where I was even with the windows rolled up.

Traps hadn’t really changed since I was in school and I used to get dragged to these things by Derrick back when we started dating almost twenty years ago. The dingy white paint of the house was cracked and peeling off the walls, exposing several sections of rotten wood siding here and there. Derrick was back out the house in only a few minutes and was soon back behind the wheel driving north.

I followed his tail lights into an industrial section of town and I was surprised to see a sign outside a comparably small windowless building that proudly displayed the words “Live Nudes” in pink cursive neon lettering. Comparably because it was located between two large warehouses in the middle of a large parking lot. The lot had dark patches and I carefully pulled into one of them, my lights already off before I pulled in off of the street.

I hadn’t expected this, Derrick pulling into a strip club. Hell, I didn’t even know that there was a strip club in town. The lot was nearly full so I felt confident that I could walk in and not get noticed by my husband. I held my head high as I walked through the glass double doors, for I had learned early on that if you look like you belong when you don’t belong, then no one will pay attention to you. This lesson was validated as the barkeep only looked my way for a few seconds before continuing to bark orders at one of the young waitresses standing across the polished wooden bar from him.

I found Derrick sitting close to a platform, similar to a fashion runway, that extended off of the main stage. At either end were stripper poles, reflecting the colored lights that would flare randomly from the ceiling. On the stage was a petite blonde in a skimpy schoolgirl outfit, complete with a striped necktie that matched her plaid mini skirt. He was engrossed as he watched her, his cold eyes never leaving her direction. Then again all the men in the room, with the exception of that trollish barkeep, were also mesmerized as she danced. I thought she was pretty, but she had used way too much makeup. Keeping to the shadows to avoid notice from the patrons around the stage, I found a table in a dark unlit corner that was completely unoccupied.

As the music for blondie’s act stopped, the DJ’s voice sounded over the loudspeakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Give it up for Little Rachael!”

I had jumped a bit when he had said “Ladies,” thinking he was referring to me. I scanned the room and there was a table on the other side composed entirely of women. Two were in matching white baby-doll t-shirts with “Bride” emblazoned over their chests in pink letters. They were all over each other and would kiss frequently. I thought it was cute. A double bachelorette party for a lesbian couple about to be married? Very progressive. But where would they go to have the ceremony?

The same girl that the barkeep was berating was soon at my table, asking me if I wanted anything to drink. I looked her over. She was maybe five-foot-even, had a pretty face, long blonde hair, small petite breasts, and small shapely ass under her white tank top and tight black cut-off shorts. If she was older than eighteen, then I was the Queen of England.

“I don’t want anything.”

“It’s a two drink minimum,” she said.

“Okay,” I responded. “Let me have a... Rum and Coke and a... Sprite.” I handed her a twenty. “Keep the change, sweetie.” The ties of her cobbler apron swayed hypnotically, drawing my eyes to what filled her shorts, as she walked back to the bar.

“Please, welcome to the stage, Lady Amelia!” Another petite girl, but with much larger breasts and half a head taller, strutted onto the stage. Where the schoolgirl was intentionally slutty, Amelia was dressed in a form fitting beige tweed skirt suit topped with a matching riding cap and slapped a riding crop into the palm of her left hand. With the thigh high dark brown leather riding boots finishing her ensemble, she was fully covered.

She looked amazingly beautiful in that aristocratic getup, even to me, and Derrick’s eyes were locked on her, never wavering as she promenaded down the runway towards him. As the heavy bass of the music started to pound the air, everyone in the club watched as she began her performance. Unbuttoning her riding jacket as she swung her hips to the beat, she tossed it off to the corner of the stage, revealing a white silk blouse. She unbuttoned that too and exposed her black lacy brazier and an astonishingly toned midriff. Ripping off her riding cap, she shook out a gorgeous mane of thick long black wavy hair.

Derrick was enchanted by this beautiful dark haired vixen and she came in closer to him as she unzipped her skirt and slowly lowered it down off her hips, tossing it with the matching jacket crumpled in the corner.. She was wearing a full garter belt underneath, black and lacey like her bra, and a pair of the tiniest lace thong panties I had ever seen. They were practically see-through and just barely covered her bald kitty. The beat dropped and so too did she, waving her panty-wrapped snatch in front of my husband’s face close enough that I was sure that he could smell her musk. I watched, heatedly, as he carefully threaded what looked like a hundred dollar bill through her garter belt. She leaned forward and licked her lips at him and winked.

Well, that was subtle, I thought to myself.

She sat down on the stage and unzipped her boots, slowly pulling them off her long legs before they too went into the corner, revealing a pair of thin sheer black hose clinging tightly to her delicately carved legs. She stood up and bent over as she slid her flimsy thong down over her smooth round ass. All eyes were glued on her as she pulled them lower until finally she stepped out of them. I couldn’t help but stare at her glory once unwrapped. feeling a twinge between my own legs that made me, not uncomfortably, fidget in my seat. She lifted that lacey piece of floss up over her head and swung them around in a circle before throwing them right into Derrick’s face, eyes alive with hunger for her. He picked them up out of his hair then held them to his nose, taking in a large wiff. I could see a bulge in his jeans.

The little waitress came back with my drinks and was soon gone, but she had seen what I was focused on, not the dancer but on who she was dancing for. She shook her head as she walked away.

With almost all tight fitting clothing either disrobed, or unbuttoned, “Lady” Amelia took a running vault onto the nearest pole and began to gracefully swing herself around it. I was impressed by her form. She’d have to have been a gymnast or something when she was in school. There was a split second while I watched her when I asked myself if I thought I could do better. I quickly decided that I couldn’t, at least not without some time to train. Her abs looked amazing…

The song ended as she reached the climax of her performance and the announcer soon introduced a new girl to the stage. Amelia, instead of going back into the changing room, walked down the stairs leading down from the stage and made her way to my husband. She melted up into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, turning her face up so he could kiss her, which he did, that… that… Slimy piece of s**t!. She took him by the hand and led him past a curtained doorway. Above was displayed a neon “V.I.P. Lounge” sign.

My heart raced as I saw all this and I felt very cold. Becca was right! He was cheating on me! With a god-damned stripper! Not just any stripper, she could’ve been my twin if it wasn’t clear that she was fifteen years younger than I was, at least! I got up and walked to the curtain. I slipped a peak through the barrier and saw that she wasted absolutely no time at all. His pants were already off, laying in a crumpled heap next to him on the long velvet upholstered couch that was shoved against the wall. She was kneeling in front of him between his spread open legs.

I surreptitiously watched them from the doorway, pulling out my phone, and started to record just as she slid her brightly painted, juicy, full lips over the head of his shaft then down all the way to its base. Derrick just barely had enough length to tickle the tonsils at the back of her throat. She started bobbing her head up and down, sliding his hard member inside the confines of her warm, wet mouth while she stroked and slapped his chest with the riding crop with one hand and played with herself with the other, getting it wet and ready for him. I stayed there hiding behind the curtain long enough to capture her slowly lowering herself down, using one dainty hand to guide him in, entering bareback as she loudly moaned in obviously feigned delight before riding him hard.

Having gotten what I needed, I quickly got out of there and made my way back to my car. I barely noticed as I pulled out of the parking lot, I was so livid. I quickly got lost, driving without a clear destination in mind, then turned the radio off before calling Becca, hoping that she was still up working on a project or something.

“Heya, chica.” She sounded groggy, or euphoric. I couldn’t tell which. Either I’ve woken her up, or interrupted a tryst. Damn. It was still good to hear her voice on the other end of the line. I felt calmer now I was talking to her..

“Are you at home?”

“Yeah… What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you when I get there.” The sound muted on her end for a few seconds.

“Okay, let me know when so I can let you in, hon.”

“Want to give him time to get out of there so he can save face?”

“Something like that…”

“Alright. Is thirty minutes okay?” I managed to get my body to calm some of its uncontrollable shaking as we spoke.

“Yeah, that should be long enough.” I could almost hear her grin, the little minx.