by R. Richard
When I finish my turn, the Stage Manager signals me that I have another back room date.
I take my own sweet time getting back to the room and the drunk is sitting there and naked, before I even arrive. I walk in and pose for him. He's hot as hell and his erection stands up from his lap. I wiggle a little in front of him and tell him, “I could have left on my nylons while you fuck me if you had only made arrangements with the Bartender. However, I'll leave on my garter belt, just for you.” Meanwhile, I'm removing my French bra to show him that my firm tits don't sag. It's the first time I have removed my French bra when I'm supposed to. I realize that I have pretty much given up on the dream that I'm gonna’ get customers to come just watching my pussy wiggle as I slip off my nylons.
With the customer now focused on me, I pull up a chair and begin to remove my nylons, almost in his face.
The close up view of my pussy is too much for the man and, to my surprise and delight, he begins to come! I leap over and begin to jack him off. It's not what he wants, but he's really drunk and pretty much defenceless. He leans back and takes a deep breath and then shoots his cum over my breasts. I get the son of a bitch off without having to fuck or suck!
I stumble back over to the chair and put my shoes back on. I pick up the one nylon I managed to get off before the customer climaxed. I then toss the guy a towel and grab one for myself.
The customer isn't going to settle for a hand job and he tells me, “Come back you damned whore!” His expression is nasty and he looks really threatening.
I pause and tell him, “Once you come, I have done my job.”
He gets up and gives me a really nasty look. Then he starts to move toward me. I'm scared as hell!
Suddenly, Taffy is there. The guy is a couple of inches taller than Taffy. However Taffy is much heavier, much stronger and much more sober. As I turn and trot down the back hall, Taffy is demonstrating his strength and moving drunken boy out the other door.
I get to the dressing room and discover that I haven't even put a run in my nylon and I have only to put the nylon and the French bra back on and I'm ready to go again!
I'm able to take my next dancing turn and the guys in the audience are in some sort of turmoil. Apparently drunken boy has been thrown out and nobody knows exactly what happened.
The guys in the front row want to know what happened.
I tell the guys, “Hey boys, you rent me at your own risk. If you can't handle it, let a real stud through.” I not only show them my red pussy, I actually flash it open for a moment and again tell them, “If you can’t handle it, don’t try it!”
I dance through three songs. Since I can’t show them anything more, I tease them a bit this round, putting my hand over my ‘dangerous’ pussy and over my ‘dangerous’ breasts. When the cat calls start, I tell them, “It's for your own good, I'm too hot for 'little boys' to handle.” First a good nude dancer fucks their minds over, and then she fucks their bodies for cash. What the hell, there's not much dignity in the job, but it’s a living!
When I finish my set, the Stage Manager gives me the high sign. I have my fourth back room date! Once again I take my time getting there. I also work a bit with my fingers on my own pussy to get lubed, just in case. I have a hunch this is going to be a fucking date instead of a jacking date.
When I get back to the room, the guy is waiting. He still has his slacks on and the expression on his face shows me that he's determined that he's gonna get into my pussy no matter what.
I try the sexy wiggle. I try the little girl giggle. I try the tease. I try the French bra strip with jiggle. I try the nylon strip. All it gets me is nude. I put my shoes back on.
I go over, kick off my shoes and jump on the bed. The guy drops his slacks and underpants, rolls on a condom, and joins me.
He doesn't waste time on any silly foreplay; he gets in hard and deep right away.
I'm still a bit loosened up from the first two fucks, so I'm ready for action. I work the big, thrusting cock with my internal muscles as much as I can. I'm trying to give the guy the maximum pleasure in hopes that he will come quickly and I can ‘go for fuck number five’ before the night is over.
It's not to be. The guy is obviously experienced. He's driving deep within me, but taking his time.
I try everything I can think of. I move under him. I tell him that his big cock is filling me up! I moan, I sigh. I really clamp on his cock, but it's like a wooden rod. Finally I put my arms around him and beg him, “Fuck me! Fuck me, big cock!”
That does the trick! He keeps thrusting deep and hard, but the pace picks up and I urge him to go faster.
He's truly filling me up completely and, if this were my first fuck of the night, I would probably be in multiple climax. However, I have had two fucks already and I'm getting very tired.
We race to the finish line together and I climax as he shoots the first stroke of his cum. I also pretend to climax again with each stroke as he pumps his condom full of cum. He then rolls off me.
I lie there breathing very hard and in a sort of ragged fashion. It's not an act, I'm really tired. I'm hoping he thinks it's passion and not fatigue.
He tells me, “Honey, you may be too much for little boys, but a man can get the job done.”
I have to agree with him, especially if I want a tip. I stoke his ego a little, hoping for a good tip for all my hard work.
However, cheapo gets up and towels off, then dresses himself while I still lie on the bed. He tosses me a towel and then struts off down the hall like a conqueror. Oh well, some times you win, some times you lose.
Taffy comes in and sees me still on the bed. He asks me, “Are you alright?”
I tell him, “I'm just suddenly exhausted after a hard night’s work.”
Taffy tells me that I have to get up, they need the room. He then helps me up.
I manage to get my shoes on, gather my clothes and then stagger down the back hall to the dressing room.
CHAPTER FOUR
Whore Some More
I STAGGER INTO THE dressing room and sit down. A waitress appears in front of me. She has a garter belt in her hand. She wants me to give her my garter belt. I ask why would she want my sweat and possibly cum stained garter belt? Then, without thinking, I ask, “Tell me, would you like my sweaty nylons as well?”
The waitress snaps at me that she doesn’t want my garter belt. She then tells me that a customer wants to buy my garter belt.
I'm blown away. I have to wear a garter belt at work, Pussycat Lounge rules. I'm now used to it and I don’t even think about it. However, I wouldn't want to put on a garter belt that some other girl has just used. However, the customer apparently isn't worried about it being used and, I suddenly realize, he probably really wants the garter belt with any lingering traces of me.
I ask, “Oh, would he like to buy my sweaty nylons too?” Apparently he wouldn't. However, a Pussycat Lounge girl has to try to make money where she can. With a shock I realize that I'm really and truly becoming a whore and in less than one night.
We exchange garter belts. I sign the name Nocturne on my old, sweaty belt, and then I flop down in the chair again.
Desiree walks in, pulls up a chair and sits down with me. She tells me, “You did really great for a first night!” She also tells me that I need to see one Judy and work on my dancing. She continues by telling me, “You 'dated' three customers, gave one guy a hand job and good work!”
I realize that I'm now going to be a Pussycat Lounge regular. Despite any lingering shame, my spirits soar! I may have become a whore, but I'm going to be a damn well paid one. I'll be able to afford a roof over my head, food and perhaps even other luxuries. Then I think about how tired I am. With some apprehension I ask Desiree how many customers I'm going to be expected to 'date' each night?
She tells me, “There's no quota, but you should try to date as many as possible. The real money for a Pussycat Lounge dancer is in dating customers.”
I tell her, “Some c
ustomer bought my garter belt.” I also tell her, “I can't believe how much he paid for it.”
Desiree says that she's aware. She continues by telling me, “Selling the fetish stuff you wear can make you considerable money over time. Since you're going to be a Pussycat Lounge regular, you'll be given your own lockable locker, instead of just using one of the public ones.” She also tells me, “You should always bring in two or three times what you think you'll need to wear for each night.” Apparently the customers like to buy, 'some of the stuff we wear.'
I ask her, “How much did the customer actually pay for my sweat stained, cum stained garter belt and was it what I was told?”
Desiree tells me the amount and that it's the going price.
I almost fall out of my chair. I tell her, “You have to be kidding me.”
She tells me, “No, I'm not kidding.” She then adds, “You're to sign each item you wear before you wear it. If it then sells, it'll have been neatly signed and that's what the customer wants.”
I feel like I'm a character in some sort of surreal play. I can't quite believe that what's happening around me is all real. I ask Desiree, “Do you have any idea how much money total, I made for my work tonight?”
Desiree tells me, “Oh, it should work out to about $1,600.” She apparently can see how shocked I am at the total. She says, “Honey you date a couple of customers, suck a couple of cocks and ...”
I guess I react badly to the, 'suck a couple of cocks' bit.
Desiree asks, “Have you ever sucked a cock before?”
I tell her no and the admission comes out in a very small voice.
By now it's getting along toward closing time at The Pussycat Lounge. Desiree notes the time and tells me, “Sucking cock comes with the territory around here.” She then calls Taffy. Desiree explains that Taffy helped me out with the hand job guy. Because of that, I owe Taffy one.
It seems that I'm about to pay Taffy back by sucking his cock.
Taffy appears and sits on the chair that Desiree just vacated. Since I don't have nylons on after my last fuck, I reluctantly kneel in front of Taffy on a pad Desiree produces from somewhere.
Taffy unzips his pants and draws forth a large, brown cock.
Now, I wasn't a virgin when I got to The Pussycat Lounge. After tonight, I'm definitely not a virgin. However, this is the first time I have actually seen a man’s cock up close. It doesn't look too inviting. However, I gotta earn a living and a girl has to do what a girl has to do.
I take Taffy’s cock in my hand and very cautiously lower my mouth onto the end of Taffy’s cock. It doesn't taste too bad and I begin to suck on it a little. I'm rather tentative about the whole procedure and this is apparently not good.
Taffy tells me, “Suck on it girl, really suck on it.” He sounds annoyed and he's a great deal bigger and stronger than I am.
I begin to suck harder. The cock gets bigger and harder and I find that I'm actually quite pleased that I can cause this to happen to a man who could crumple me up with his hands like he would crumple a ball of tinfoil.
Desiree is by my side and she tells me to stroke the shaft with my fingers as I suck the head. I'm then directed to use my tongue to trace various parts of the head of Taffy’s cock and even lick the hole at the end.
I'm really involved in the mechanics of sucking Taffy’s cock and I don't realize just how excited he's becoming. Suddenly I can feel him tense and then he's pumping cum into my mouth. I start to pull away and even manage to spit the end of his cock out of my mouth and try to pull away. However Desiree won't let me pull my head back and I take the rest of Taffy’s cum in my face. I'm not happy, especially when more of the cum runs into my mouth.
Desiree scolds me and tells me, “A customer pays to shoot his cum in your face. You'll not only put up with it, you'll pretend like it's really exciting for you. If any of the cum gets in your mouth, you'll swallow it, not spit it out. You'll pretend it's like eating ice cream.”
I'm not very happy about the whole situation, but then Desiree tells me how much I can get for sucking a man’s cock. I realize that sucking cock is going to be one of the things, like washing dishes, that I don't like to do but have to do to get along. I also realize that sucking cock is going to be a real money maker for Nocturne.
Taffy tells me that the blow job was OK, but that I still need some work. He then tucks his big, brown cock away, zips up and leaves.
Desiree tells me, “You did better than I expected for a first night. Your dancing was a little less than I would normally accept from a Pussycat Lounge girl. On the other hand, your 'dates' were better than I expected and jacking the one customer off was a really professional move.” She then continues, “You did so well that Andre is going to keep you on full time. However, there are things you still need to learn and improve on.”
Desiree has made an appointment for me with Judy who will teach me and improve my dancing. Judy is strictly a dance teacher and won't get involved with the really raunchy stuff. However, if I'm good at the dancing, Judy will teach me how to strip.
Desiree tells me that she lives in an apartment not too far from The Pussycat Lounge. The place is a little expensive, but they have a good security system and a 24 hour a day desk with TV surveillance of all the halls. Desiree tells me that some of the bolder customers have followed girls home and tried to follow them into their apartments.
Desiree then tells me that I have the looks and the style to make it as one of The Pussycat Lounge Girls. Not just one of the dancers who float through the place from week to week, but a headline regular who can regularly make $1,000 per night and maybe more.
I don't believe what I have just heard. I ask Desiree, “Do you mean I can actually make $200,000 per year dancing at The Pussycat Lounge?”
Desiree says, “Yes, you can, if you keep yourself in shape and work the customers for back room visits.” She not only tells me what I can make, but also how much of it I'll need to report to the IRS. The amount I'll report is less than $200,000. Actually, the amount is quite a bit less.
She also tells me that The Pussycat Lounge also provides girls for private parties. The girls get $2,500 each, plus tips, for such an event. She then kind of rushes past the point that each girl is expected to fuck up to five times during such an evening.
I'm pretty much exhausted after only three customer dates and a hand job. However, I'll get used to that sort of schedule and $2,500 is $2,500! Plus, I'll have a chance to work the customers for tips. I seem to have a real talent for getting tips.
Desiree cautions me that I need to keep my bikini area shaved smooth at all time with no stubble. She gives me a can of some sort of product that's supposed to remove hair. I'm told that I'll keep shaved or keep smooth with the goop in the can, if it works for me.
I reflect that I would have just died if a boyfriend saw my bikini area up close not too long ago. Now, I'm trying to interest a whole roomful of men in the same bikini area after it's been shaved clean of hair for their viewing and fucking pleasure.
While we're talking, people keep walking through the ladies dressing room in the process of closing down The Pussycat Lounge. Desiree and I are both nude and out in full view of the casual passerby. It's strange to tell, but nobody really gives us a glance. It appears that if a man sees tits and pussy all night, every night, a nude lady isn't all that much of an attraction.
I again ask Desiree about the sale of my working clothes, if that sort of stuff can be called clothes.
Desiree tells me, “The Pussycat Lounge is a fetish place. The customers aren't interested in naked women, but rather in nude women. Nude women, in The Pussycat Lounge, always wear French bras, lace garter belt, nylons and stiletto heels. The stuff we wear is peek-a-boo lace, not durable stuff. The purpose of the fetish garb is to excite the customers, not to conceal anything.”
I mention, “I have seen a few of the Pussycat Lounge girls wearing panties and real bras.”
Desiree tells me, “Some of the cu
stomers like to see ladies strip to nude. However, you can't be a stripper until you can dance better. Also, the girls who strip have to be trained in the proper techniques for taking off what little they take off.” Desiree sums it up, “Clumsy does not get tips!”
I ask, “What happens when a girl gets to be 'old hat' in The Pussycat Lounge?”
Desiree tells me, “There are four Pussycat Lounges in carefully selected areas. They're not all that far apart, but the locations are carefully selected so that each place draws from a different population area. A girl rotates from club to club to perform in front of new customers, with big money homecomings!”
Then Desiree tells me something that really shocks the hell out of me. Desiree tells me, “Amateurs sometimes dance at The Pussycat Lounges. The amateurs aren't the usual run of the mill girls trying to get on as regular nude dancers. The Pussycat Lounge amateurs are ladies who would qualify as regular nude dancers, but don't want to work at it regularly. Their husbands bring them in and they dance shifts, just like the regular girls.”
