by Mia Archer
4
Jasmine
The girl was the first thing I noticed as I stepped out on stage and put my hand on the pole. It was a move I'd done hundreds of times before, only this time seeing her standing there talking to a friend then waving money at me nearly caused me to lose my balance. It was only my grip on the pole that kept me from falling on my ass.
Fuck! I needed to be more careful. I couldn't afford to fall and sprain something or, even worse, break something.
I might be an exotic dancer, heavy emphasis on the "exotic" part, but I was still a dancer. I still had to worry about keeping myself in shape to do the job.
I used my grip on the pole to provide some balance. Just enough to keep me from falling on my ass in my stripper heels. No, that wouldn’t be sexy for the customers.
I did a circle around the pole and dipped down, shook my ass and got some applause, but not much. Tara was right. The place really was relatively empty. Nothing interesting or promising out here at all.
I looked at the girl again. Revised that thought. There was nothing interesting from a financial point of view, but there was definitely someone interesting sitting out there with dollar bills waving in the breeze smiling and laughing.
I told myself I was dreaming. That the girl had to be straight. There was obviously a group of guys hanging around behind her, and there was that guy who'd handed her the money and slapped her on the back. He had to be the boyfriend.
I'd seen it plenty of times before working this job. A guy who was out with his girlfriend and wanted her to take a walk on the wild side. A little good old-fashioned red-blooded American girl on girl action where I was expected to play the part of the second.
Not that I minded. That had resulted in some good times. I'd even got a couple of phone numbers when I was done dancing, though I'd only taken them up on that offer one time when it was clear the girl was bi and was interested in having a little bit of fun independent of her boyfriend.
Not that a couple of couples hadn’t tried to get more than the lap dance. Assholes.
I might be willing to do a little dance and get up close and personal with a girl in a professional capacity, but I drew the line at being a private performer in a girl on girl session.
I wasn't a fan of someone using my sexuality as a way for guys to get off. No thank you. I even shied away from doing the more suggestive dances with some of the other girls at the club in public, though that was more because most of them seemed a little uncomfortable with it than because I was uncomfortable with it.
And I was out here thinking when I should be dancing. I’d been spinning around the pole and I hadn't even bothered to go and do a round. I needed to get out there and make some money. The pickings were slim tonight, and I needed to take what I could get.
I started on the far end from the girl. I wasn't ready to face her just yet. She was so beautiful, and I didn't want to be disappointed when it turned out she'd been dragged here as a joke for a bachelor party or she was here with her boyfriend.
No, the more time I spent around the edges of the stage not talking to her the more I could entertain the fantasy that she was into girls. That she was into me and that's why she was holding out those dollar bills with that eager look.
It was a silly fantasy, a crazy fantasy that was never going to come true in a place like this, but I did what I had to do to maintain my sanity and make it through the nights at this place.
I moved around the edge of the dance floor and then I was face-to-face with her. Up close she was just as beautiful as she'd been from far away.
There could be a striking difference between how someone looked up close and far away in the dim lighting in the club. It was the sort of lighting that helped out the girls who maybe weren’t at a hundred percent under bright florescent lighting, but that same lighting could also make it difficult to get a good look at patrons if you weren’t right next to them.
I leaned down and she was almost hesitant as she reached out with a fistful of dollars. My eyes went wide at that. That was the sort of thing you got when someone was really interested.
Again I tried not to let myself get too excited. I tried not to freak out or read too deeply into the amount of money she was throwing at me. After all, there was still a good chance she was here with a boyfriend.
Still, it was nice to entertain the fantasy that she was interested in me even if I knew it had no bearing on reality.
“Come here often?" I asked, using my best seductive voice.
Why was I using my seductive voice? I shouldn’t be using my seductive voice. This girl wasn't interested in me and I wasn't interested in her, and I always prided myself on being able to do this job without making the clients feel like they had a chance.
Only she looked up at me and my breath caught.
That was one hell of an intense look. That was a look that promised everything I'd been fantasizing about and then some. I found myself wondering what our kids would look like, though of course that was a ridiculous notion since we’d have to adopt or have a donor or something.
And that was an even more ridiculous thought.
I was getting distracted. I needed to get this under control. Only the way she held my gaze was enough to drive me wild.
"I've actually never been here before," she said. "I'm here for a bachelor party."
Hope rose. If she was here for a bachelor party then there was a chance that guy wasn't her boyfriend. There was a chance she might be interested in yours truly. I still didn't allow myself to think there was much of a chance, but I felt like my fantasy was creeping closer and closer to reality.
"Having fun so far?" I asked.
"I just got here," she said. "But I'm having a hell of a lot more fun since you showed up."
And she hit me with another one of those looks that threatened to knock me on my ass. She was doing with one look at what stumbling over the pole hadn’t.
I licked my lips. I should proceed with caution. I should get away from this girl now. Before I did something stupid that would prove Tara right. But I couldn't pull myself away. I didn't know what to do.
For the first time in my not so illustrious career taking my clothes off for men I found myself at a loss for words. I didn't know what to say next. Usually the game was to string them along without promising anything, but that felt wrong with this girl.
I wanted to string her along and then reel her in and keep her all to myself.
"I'm sorry," the girl said. "Do you need more cash if you're going to stay here and talk with me?"
"Do you want to stay and talk with me?" I asked.
She held my gaze and I shivered. She licked her lips and I felt a definite moment between us. The space between us was crackled with electric potential.
"I think I’d like to talk to you some more Jasmine. If that's okay with you," She said.
"That’s great, but I have to finish this dance,” I said. I winked at her. "Enjoy it."
"But how…”
I pulled away and I had trouble catching my breath. I felt like I'd been out on the stage for a full set rather than one song. When I pulled back to reality I saw customers looking up at me with irritated glances.
Oh yeah. They weren't happy that I was ignoring them. I could even see a couple of regulars who were going to give me trouble later.
I never stopped to talk with any of them for too long, even if they threw money at me, and I’d just stopped and talked to that girl for a good long while. At least it was long as far as conversations are reckoned when you're up on stage.
Not that I owed any of them anything anyways. This was strictly a patron and client relationship, and if they couldn't get that through their heads that was their problem, not mine.
I turned back to look at the girl again. I hadn't even gotten her name, and yet she filled my thoughts. There was something about her that sent a thrill running through me. That made me want to hop off the stage now and offer her a private dance. I wouldn't
even charge.
But I resisted the urge. I was here to make money, after all, and even if I didn't prefer the company of gentlemen they were the ones who paid the bills so I'd shake it for them.
Yet through the whole routine my eyes kept returning to that girl. Returning to her pretty face. To that electric gaze that held my attention. I watched her for any reaction to my dance. Any reaction that might reveal that she was into girls just as much as I was.
I felt like even though I was up on stage in front of an entire club I was only dancing for her. It was just at the two of us. Just the two of us and it was so hot.
I found myself actually getting turned on doing my rounds. I twirled around the pole and imagined it was that girl between my legs rather than a cold unfeeling pole. I put a little more effort into looking good, and I kept my attention on her as I ripped my final bit of clothing off so I was standing on stage in just a thong.
I would've gone over to give her an up close special, but the music ended and I heard the announcer calling out the next dancer.
I’d spent so much time chatting her up that I'd used up a good minute of my dance time. Which meant I had no more time to go over and do the whole seduction from the dance floor routine that I'd seen so many other girls pull with guys who were big spenders.
Only that girl hadn't even been a big spender. Far from it. I maybe got ten bucks from her, and that was nothing compared to what I got from some regulars.
No, I was drawn to her because she was hot. I was drawn to her because I was attracted to her, and that was a weird feeling in this business.
I pushed those thoughts away as I stepped backstage. Tiffany stood there tapping her foot with her arms crossed.
"What took you so long?" she asked.
"Sorry about that," I said. "I got a little distracted…"
I knew it was a mistake to say anything about getting distracted the moment I said it. Tiffany's face lit up in a broad smile.
"So you saw a girl out there? That's what this is about?"
"Maybe you should keep that on the down low,” I said. "I don't want to some people to know about that."
Tiffany made a motion as though she was zipping her lips. Then she smiled and giggled and gave me a hug. A hug that was made just a little awkward because she was wearing practically nothing, she was a sexy woman, and I was wearing absolutely nothing.
Plus I was already worked up because of everything with that strange nameless girl out there. My body was on fire. Having a pretty girl pressing her body against mine didn't help. No, that didn't help at all.
Thankfully she pulled away pretty quickly and the torture was short-lived. She smiled again as the announcer called her out on stage under her stage name. Sapphire.
I'd made the mistake of thinking that my name already sounded strippery enough and so I went out there under my real name. I learned what a mistake that was later, but it was too late now. All the regulars knew who I was and so I figured what the hell.
Tiffany went out on stage to wow the world as Sapphire, and I moved backstage. I needed to get into an outfit that was suitably slutty for going out on the floor. It was time to meet up with that girl.
I took a deep breath. I couldn't believe I was doing this, but at at the same time I felt giddy and excited in a way I never had before. At least not at work.
For the first time since I started at this place I was looking forward to working the floor rather than dreading it.
5
Taylor
"Admit it," Dan said.
"Admit what?" I asked, trying my best to look sweet and innocent. From the way he grinned it was pretty clear he wasn't buying the sweet and innocent routine. Not at all.
"I want you to admit that you had fun," he said. "That's all. Admit you had fun and I'll leave you alone.”
"Yeah you wish," I said.
"Well if you didn't have fun with that girl then you won't mind if I take my singles back," he said, reaching out for the pile of money still clutched in my hand.
I pulled back as though his hand was a snake reaching out to bite me or something. I knew that was the wrong thing to , but I didn't want him to take away that money. It was the only money I had unless I was willing to go over and pay the ridiculous ATM fee to get some money of my own.
Dan shook his head and laughed. "I knew it!”
"Okay so I had a little fun with that stripper," I said. “Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to hear?"
He shrugged. "Is it really so bad if that is what I wanted to hear? It's not like it's such a bad thing for you to have fun. It's not like it's such a bad thing for you to get out and live a little."
I opened my mouth to tell him I was perfectly capable of living a little, thank you very much, but then it occurred to me that wasn’t strictly true.
After all, my idea of a fun night was going home and microwaving a meal then sitting down to maybe play a video game or watch some TV. Maybe both at the same time.
I had to admit that next to that the idea of going out to a strip club and developing a girl crush on a stripper was out of the ordinary. It was also a lot more exciting than what I usually got up to on a Friday night.
"I guess it's not such a bad thing to have a good time," I said.
Dan reached out and slapped me on the back. As though I was one of the guys. I winced at the smack, but didn't complain.
"See! That's the spirit. There’s nothing wrong with having a good time!
I kept my mouth shut. I obviously didn't know what I wanted and Dan obviously had a pretty good idea of what I did want. After all, he'd known I needed to come out here even if I wasn't willing to admit it to myself.
Maybe it would be a good idea for me to start listening to him a little more. Maybe I should give him some credit.
Dan looked over my shoulder and I didn't think it was possible his grin could get any wider, but somehow, miraculously, it did. I felt a chill run down my spine at his smile. It was the sort of shit eating grin he only got when he knew something was up.
“What is it?" I asked.
He didn't respond in so many words. He merely nodded behind me. My pulse picked up. My heart was racing. He could only be smiling like that and pointing behind me for one thing.
I still thought I was being silly for getting a crush on a stripper of all things, I didn't think that was the kind of girl I was until I came to this club and found out maybe that was exactly the kind of girl I was, but I couldn't deny how I felt. I couldn't deny the way my body reacted to thinking about meeting up with her again.
I couldn't shake the feeling that she was into girls. That she might be interested in doing a little more than dancing for me. And yet at the same time I knew I was being ridiculous. This was a job where they got paid based on how well they interacted with people. For all I knew this girl was just very good at acting like she was interested in other women because she learned lesbians paid well or something.
Not that I saw any other lesbians in the place. Hanging out at a strip club had never struck me as a big LGBT sort of thing. Unless you're talking about a club for guys, of course.
But what did I know? I’d never been to a place like this so I couldn’t say for sure one way or another.
I felt a fluttering in my stomach as somebody tapped on my shoulder. I knew I was going to turn around and she would be right there. The only question was would she be there because she was actually interested in me? Was there something to this crush I was developing? Or would she be there because she thought she could get a quick buck out of me?
There was no way to find out unless I turned around and talked to her. Besides, maybe Dan was right. Maybe I did needed to live a little. Maybe I did need to go against my natural inclination to stay in for the night. Maybe it was time I put myself out in the world.
And if that meant putting myself out in the world by talking to a pretty stripper? Well I figured there was nothing wrong with that. It was just one night after all. It's not like I
was locking this down forever or something.
A relationship with a stripper? The thought seemed ridiculous. Even if there was a part of me that tingled at the idea.
Butterflies rose in my stomach as I turned around to meet her. I blinked when I got a good look at her outfit.
I guess I shouldn't have been too surprised. After all, I was in a strip club. What did I expect a stripper to wear at the strip club? A cardigan that covered everything?
No, she was in a bikini top that was more mesh lingerie than actual bikini material leaving nothing to the imagination. Not that I was in a mood to have much left to the imagination. Down below she was in a skirt, but it went from reasonable to scandalous by virtue of being made out of a translucent material that gave me a good view of her G-string below.
"Fancy meeting you here," she said.
"Hi yourself," I said.
I immediately felt like an idiot for saying it. "Hi yourself?" Was that really my opening line? I was such a doofus sometimes.
"So I was wondering if maybe you'd be interested in a dance?"
I blinked. She was already going from introducing herself to asking for a private dance? I was intrigued by the idea. My whole body started to shake and I had to work at keeping it under control. Moisture gathered between my legs and I was a goner if I went into a private room with this girl. I’d be acting like one of the idiots around the stage throwing money at girls in no time.
Even though I'd already acted like one of the idiots on stage throwing money at one of the girls on stage. Guess it was too late to put that cat back in the bag.
I licked my lips and looked down at the pile of money still clutched in my hands. I looked up at her. There couldn’t possibly be enough in there to pay for a private dance.
"I might have to go to the ATM," I said it.
I had no idea how much a dance would even cost. Well this was going to get awkward, but it couldn’t get any more awkward than staring at her in that getup, right?
“What's the going rate for a lap dance anyway?"
