Christy

Becoming a dancer was a gradual thing for me. It started with serving drinks, I wanted to make more and then decided to move on to dancing so I could start making real money, like the other girls did. Dancing on a stage the first time was a little rattling, but what was really jarring was the feeling of the first time you have to dance for someone privately; to fake intimacy. The dancing itself isn't so bad, and really a good lap dance isn't all that hard to learn. The motions need to be soft, and smooth, you need to be quietly vocal, you don't even have to be good in the beginning as long as you look good and move slowly. It's the eye contact that's difficult, but necessary.

This story begins after one of my first lap dances. It was four years ago but I can still remember it like it was yesterday, right down to the horrid little yellow polo shirt the guy was wearing. Back then I was just starting and I spotted this young guy over towards the back. At first glance, he looked alright, just regular-maybe in his 20's, with sandy blonde hair that was neatly trimmed-a very clean cut college look.

"Hey," I approached him, "are you here all by yourself?"

He looked up at me and smiled, "Nah, I'm here with some of my brothers."

"You go to strip clubs with your family?" I said incredulously.

He laughed at that, "No they're my fraternity brothers. Dalton Reed of Omega Kappa Phi, miss...what's your name?"

I thought it was very charming that he said "miss", at the time. We were about the same age but it showed respect to ask that way.

"It's Starr. You can call me 'Starr'."

He gave me a really awkward smile, perhaps at how obviously untrue the name was. He looked me up and down and said; "You're kind of new at this aren't you?"

I was, but I didn't know what that look, or that smile, meant. "Oh, kind of new," I said, then thinking on my feet about not wanting to lose out on a private dance for a seemingly regular guy I lied; "but I've been dancing like, regular dancing, for a long time. Just not stripping."

He looked at me hard and then said, "turn around for me". It felt awkward, but I did it nevertheless. By the time I had made the full turn and looked back at his face, I noticed he was looking at my feet the whole time. Then he looked back up at my face with a big grin, maybe I did good? He leaned back in the over-plush, grey and purple seats and smiled again, saying "So are you going to ask me if I want a private dance?"

Oh, my job; "Yeah of course. Would you like a private dance?". It was never this quick before, normally I had to talk to the guys a bit longer, but he seemed like he knew what he was doing.

He winked and, I'll never forget this either, said; "Don't worry, I'll make a proper stripper out of you tonight." It was weird, it felt weird.

Just the same, I smiled and told him; "Alright, follow me."

We went to the back, he handed me $40 for two songs, and I seated him in one of the booths. Remember how I said you don't really need to be "good" at dancing to give a decent lap dance? This is how I know, because at the time my dancing was only "fair", but I was able to do a decent job just the same. Dalton was leering, paying more attention to my breasts than any movements I was doing. I paid attention to that and touched myself, my nipples, for his viewing pleasure. When I did this he looked up and the lust in his eyes became something else, something wild. The second song was coming to an end, 'this is getting easier' I thought 'that wasn't bad at all. I can't believe I earned $40 for it.'

As I started to get up, he grabbed my hand, roughly, "Hey" he said, "I want another dance. Right now."

I had no idea how that worked, adding a dance. Was I supposed to stop, have him give me the money now, or wait until the end? No one had told me about this before. As the possibilities ran through my head he pulled my hand, and my body down with it, onto his lap. "You're supposed to dance now," he started "and keep a tally in your head of how many I've racked up. I pay you out at the end."

"Oh" I countered, "yeah, of course. Thanks." I smiled, but he didn't return it, instead sitting back and swinging my leg over his lap. I knew he wasn't allowed to touch me, but his hand was off mine the instant I was straddling him. I smiled and said, "No touching, sweetie" and started to dance again, this time fully spread across his lap. He was leaning in and craning his neck towards me, what for I wasn't sure, but whatever he was doing with his head was distracting and made it awkward to dance on him. He started looking at my eyes, then I started running my body up and down his chest in a slow, pumping action. I leaned in, moaning softly, mostly so I didn't have to look in his eyes anymore, when suddenly I felt the tip of a tongue grazing my nipple. "Hey!" I exclaimed, "no touching. I said no touching."

"Come on" he said, "this is getting old. How much?" Was he asking to be cashed out-I think it was only one more song, but it wasn't the whole so...

"Uh, $20?", I pretty much asked rather than said, then watched him dig around in his pocket and push the money into my shorts, then pulled me closer to him and my breast back to his mouth. "Dude, no touching! I don't want to have to call the bouncer over."

He was looking livid now, and said "What the fuck, I just paid you! Why are you talking about calling the bouncer over for, you thieving whore?"

Thieving whore? It was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, what's worse is I didn't know what I was doing to taunt Mr. Hyde into coming out. Confused, I replied "Why are you saying this? What did I steal?"

"Bitch, I paid you what you asked to let me suck your titties, you took my money like a whore and now you're not letting me and trying to take my money."

It's like I wasn't talking to the same person anymore. I dug into my pocket and handed him the twenty, explaining "Look I thought you were asking to pay for a dance, not to touch me. I'm not allowed to do that, it's against the club rules, I'll get fired." Also, I didn't want to, there's some things that I would never want to trade for money.

He sat back again, glaring. "Whatever. It's what all you whores end up doing. You just haven't been at it long enough, I watched you try and turn in your shoes," he pointed at the uncomfortable platform stilettos I was in, "and you can barely walk in them." Now I couldn't, but it was embarrassing that someone noticed. My face was feeling hot, I wanted to leave. I got up and started walking away, as I did he said "Hey save some of that money for a boob job, sweetheart. My tongue couldn't even reach those mosquito bites."

As I clunked my way to the back, awkwardly in those stilettos and suddenly VERY aware of how awkwardly, I resigned myself to going home for the night. As I went to the dressing room and lockers in the back, I sat, kicked off those horrible shoes, stripped my clothes off and stepped into the shower. The showers were the same type you see in a high school, community style with not much between you and the other person; it was going to be four in the morning soon and the others girls would be in. I sat naked under the water, makeup running and cold since the temperature never got up to more than "lukewarm", since I was sitting on the floor it was that much colder. 'This was a mistake', I thought. All of it, I felt so cheap and dirty, and I sat there as though the water would wash away the feeling.

As I sat there, dejected, in walked an angel. Since this is a true story I don't want to use her name, so lets call her "Christy". Christy was stunning. Slender, with long soft auburn hair, jewel toned green eyes, and tall for a woman. I stand about 5'5", Christy was a good four inches taller and perfectly shaped with full hips, a slim waist, and perfect little boobs that looked like they were made to fit in someone's mouth. I liked her, I admired her-and she never paid me much notice, I was the newbie. And now she was going to see me looking like this, whiney and pathetic under the shower, with my makeup probably pouring down my face.

Christy walked in and spotted me immediately. I tried hiding my face, adjusting my body, when suddenly she came up to the stall and just stood there; I could see her feet locked in place. Looking up she was looking at me sideways then, out of the blue, she started taking off her clothes, quietly. 'What?' I started to think, and before I could think more she sat next to me under the water. We didn't say anything to each other, she just took it upon herself to hold me and then looked around for some shampoo. We only kept the cheap Suave stuff at the club, but it was a nicely scented "green apple". She massaged the shampoo into my hair tenderly, the way I imagine a sister would. It felt...nice.

"Ahahahahaha...motherfucker, that dude with the beard was nasty as shit! Did you see he had peas or something in it?"

"Ugh, no. He looked fuckin' dirty and hairy, I'm not trying to get lice on the job. It's more than twenty dollars to get rid of lice."

A bunch of other girls were talking loudly amongst themselves coming back, I panicked. Christy didn't, she held my hand and we got up together; none of the girls seemed wise to what we were doing. "Get dressed, follow me home," Christy said, "I'll wait for you in the parking lot."

I followed her home. It was exactly the kind of place I could picture a perfect girl like her living in. A cute, modern home on Lake Greenhaven, with a "shabby chic" thing going on. I must have been gawking because when I looked at her she was smirking a little. "Your place is really cool" I offered, "I love that coffee table." She had a huge coffee table made from distressed wood, it looked like something from a shipwreck. It was very cool.

"Thanks," she said, smiling "I got it at a custom furniture place off 9th street. It looks rickety but it's really very well built, sturdy." I laughed a little at that; it didn't look so "sturdy". She must have registered that on my face-she smiled again and said "Come over here, sit on it." I walked over, hesitantly, and sat. She was right-it looked like it has seen better says but it was solid as a rock.

"Wow, yeah you're right. This is amazing Christy."

She laughed, "You're pretty easily impressed Emily. I like that about you." She sat next to me on the table, looking into my eyes; "Look, I was dancing in the next booth. I heard what that douchebag said."

"Oh" I said. So that's why she came into the shower with me.

"Yeah. Listen honey-you did the right thing, except you should've called a bouncer over to stomp his ass, that's what they're fucking there for. That guy just picked you because you're new and it was obvious."

"Yeah." I replied. Honestly what she was saying wasn't making me feel much better.

All of a sudden, I felt her hand on mine and looked up. "It gets better babygirl," she said, "and you've got the right attitude. The girls that burn out quick doing this are the ones that start selling every bit of themselves. Just remember, people always want what they can't fully possess. You can make a lot of money doing this if you're smart about it."

I asked, "How is one 'smart' about it?"

"Do the dances, learn routines, get regulars. Have you ever heard of geisha?"

"The Chinese ones, with the white faces?"

"Japanese," she corrected, "and yes with the white faces. Think of this as that. They, geisha, were entertainers, artists in their own way. No fuck that qualification, they WERE artists. There was a sexual element of course but what the men paid for was to be entertained. Sex sells short term," she said "but pleasure, just pleasure, sells long term. Work on a routine, getting regulars. Talk with them."

I hadn't thought of it that way, it was an elegant way of thinking. It matched her. I squeezed her hand a little, she was making me feel so much better. Suddenly she let go of my hand and gripped the back of my head firmly, but gently. "Emily," she said, and I looked up at her eyes. They were even more beautiful up close, with flecks of blue and brown in with the green. She leaned in and kissed my lips softly, deeply. I felt lost in it.

I kissed her back with every ounce of passion in my body-I could feel her heart pounding through her chest, her beautiful perfectly formed chest.

"Mmmm, Emily" she said, "lets clear this up too. I heard from the other girls that you're a lesbian. Is this true?" Honestly, I didn't know. I wanted to say 'yes', because what we were doing felt so good, and I'd never wanted a man this way. But to make a declaration felt so set in stone, besides-what if that's not what she wanted. I debated in my head until she broke the silence and said; "I'm not asking for any reason other than to ask. Don't answer." She ran her hands up my arms and onto my body, I did the same, with my hands ending up on those beautiful breasts I'd seen earlier.

She looked at me and smiled, I took it as a cue that this was good. In an instant my mouth was on her nipples, my fingers between her thighs, teasing her folds. Fuck she was wet, my fingers were slick with her juices before I even made it inside her pussy. Knowing this, that she was so turned on, aroused me beyond reason. I rubbed my fingers softly over her clit in a "8" motion, trying to learn her body. She moaned, but I could see it wasn't the deepest moan I could coax from her. I slipped my middle finger out and into her fluidly, there was no resistance. At this she moaned and moved her head back-so I knew that inside was her sweet spot, now all that was left to do was to find it.

I touched her shoulders with my hands and guided her to lie back on the table. When she was laying back, legs spread, I removed her skirt and the panties that were impeding my trajectory into her pussy, settling myself and my mouth in between her thighs when they were both gone. Her lips her smooth and perfect, fuck everything about her was perfect. She looked down, I smiled, then buried my mouth onto her pussy on the table. I sampled multiple styles, vigorous, long gentle licks, hoover sucking on her clit, tongue fucking...in the end I could see that the long gentle licks were doing it. I added my hands-my hands were what did it.

"Aggghhhhhh" she screamed, "fuck, fuck-oh don't stop, don't stop, please don't..." then I felt it. She orgasmed powerfully, squirting her sweet, tangy juices all over my hands, hair, and mouth.

"Oh Em, fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" She grabbed my hair and pulled me up by it, then kissed me with the taste of her orgasm still on my lips, "Lay down" she said. I laid back on the table, she straddled me, "now, what do you like? Hmmm?" She moved her hand down to my shorts, rubbing my clit over my panties.

"Agh," I whimpered, it felt so good, I was so horny.

"Oh you like this, baby," she said "Mmmmm. You like being played with. Lay back, spread those pretty little legs for me." I did as she said. She went down, between my thighs, saying; "Ooooh, what a pretty pink you are. Pretty light pink, show it to me. Spread your lips for me." I loved how she talked to me, using both fingers I spread my lips for her. "What a good girl you are, babygirl, do you want me to touch you?" I nodded, she gleefully thrust her index finger into my core and put her tongue on my clit, sucking and licking with such intensity I thought I was going to pass out.

"Ooooh, look at you Emily," she said, "fuck you're beautiful. You're beautiful." She kept pounding her fingers in an out, finally soliciting orgasm after orgasm-multiples in a row. She laid back and kissed my lips, both of us in a never-ending state of bliss. We spent the rest of the night/day playing with each other gently, passionately. As though we were the only two people left in the world. It was the beginning of a relationship that would forever change both our lives.