Sam really wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. To be fair, nobody was as smart as Sam thought he was. Tabitha knew that her husband did have to travel for work; however, his work certainly didn’t require him to visit strip clubs, or pay for the special experience, which involved him fucking one or more of the girls. She was willing to overlook it for a little bit, but not for months upon months upon months.
Finally, she’d had enough. She found an old friend of hers’, Judy, to perform the spell. When Sam visited his favorite strip club in LA, it turned into an audition. Samantha; or, rather, “just call me Sammi. With, like, an i!” as she would squeal—proved to be a quick study. Tabitha laughed as she watched Sammi’s panties dangling off her heel. Not that Sammi cared, or even knew who she was—right now, her entire world was the bouncer who was fucking her.
