My name is Amy and I want to tell you about a special man. His name is Tom. About two years ago I met Tom at the strip club where I was dancing. It was the first week of June and LasVegas was really hot. I remember he came in on a Monday night. He was about 5'10" and, if I had to guess, about 260 pounds. He was overweight and I could see a little chest hair coming out around his open collar shirt. He had green-blue eyes and a nice smile. His hair was curly and black.
Once I caught his eye, he smiled at me and then quickly looked away. I walked over to him and asked if he wanted me to dance for him.
He fumbled in his pocket to find some money and said, "Yes, please."
After he gave me his money, he sat on his hands.
I asked, "What are you doing?"
He replied, "Well, you're so pretty and I just wanted to make sure I didn't touch you. That way you won't get mad at me and I won't get thrown out." He then smiled at me.
I laughed and said, "Give me your hands."
I put his hands on his lap and told him to spread his legs. I winked at him and began to dance. While I danced for him, I rubbed my body up and down his. This way his finger tips could rub my skin as I rubbed up and down his body.
He looked pleasantly shocked. He looked like a little boy that had just opened a great present.
I whispered in his ear, "Do you like?"
He just looked me in the eyes and nodded yes.
When I was close to finishing my dance for him, he whispered in my ear, "You are so soft."
I giggled and said, "Thank you."
I thought he was so sweet.
After I finished my dance for him, I sat and talked with him for a while. He was funny, intelligent, and very kind. But there also was a sadness in his eyes.
After that night, he came in the rest of the week to see me. By the end of the week, I found myself waiting for him to come into the club. My heart would begin to race once he flashed his smile at me and I knew he was there.
I loved talking to him. During our talks, I found out he had a rough childhood. He also said he never really had been loved by anyone. He always felt like he wasn't good enough for anybody. No matter how he tried, whatever he did seemed like it just wasn't good enough.
Then he talked about his weight and hairy body. He thought he was ugly. He talked about how the movies and t.v. made fun of guys like him. He told me he found it harder and harder to go out in public. He said he could tell by the looks on young pretty girls' faces when he smiled at them or caught their eye that they thought he was gross looking.
I told him he wasn't ugly or fat. I thought he was a good looking guy. Yes, he was a little over-weight. So what? Then I told him as far as his body hair was concerned, not all guys dislike it. I said I had no problem with it and some women found it sexy.
I, too, shared some of my past with him. I told him how I had also never found love. Guys would say they loved me so they could get into my pants. Once they had me, they would use me then treat me like shit. I always thought if a guy had sex with me, that meant he loved me. I was so wrong. I became quite the party girl in high school. I was always the fun girl the guys wanted to be with at the party. But once the party was over I would be alone.
I told Tom about my Senior year. My boyfriend was a Junior in college. He took me to one of his frat parties. It was fun for a while. I got real drunk and everyone was nice to me. Then my boyfriend took my upstairs to his bedroom. We started fucking, then the door came open. His friends walked in with no clothes on. My boyfriend got off of me and one of his friends grabbed and sucked on my tits while another opened my legs to eat me out.
I remember my boyfriend saying, "If you love me, fuck them. You know you want to do it."
I said I didn't want to do this for him. But I was pushed down on the bed and used by his friends while people from the party watched. Nine or ten of his friends took turns on me, sticking their cocks in every hole I had, laughing and talking dirty to me. Girls from the party would come in and point and laugh at me. All this happened while my boyfriend watched and kissed other girls at the party.
The next day I was so sore and I had bruises on my thighs and hips. Blood came out of my ass when I went to the bathroom.
My boyfriend never came to see me again.
I told Tom about a few other winners I had as boyfriends, who like to hit me.
I said, "When I was a little girl, all I would dream about was when I grew up I would find a man who would love me and take care of me. I would have lots of babies with him and we would grow old together." I laughed, held up my hands and said, "And this is what I got!"
All of a sudden I felt Tom's hand in mine. I looked into his eyes. His eyes were watered over and he said, "I am so sorry, Amy. No guy should treat a girl like that."
He smiled at me and I replied, "It's alright."
He quickly said, "No, it's not alright. Not the way they hurt you, it's not, Amy."
Then one of the bouncers came over and told Tom he wasn't allowed to touch the dancers. Tom removed his hand from me and I told the bouncer it was okay. I looked at Tom and we smiled at each other.
I loved spending time at the club with Tom. I often wondered what he would be like in bed. Little did I know I was soon going to find out.
It was Saturday, around 3:30 a.m. and I was about to get off work. I was sitting with Tom and he was a little too quiet.
I asked, "What's on your mind, Mr. Man?"
He looked like he was searching hard to find the right words. He then said very quietly, "Amy, one of the other girls said, well, that . . ." he paused and then continued, "you have a little habit."
Right when he said habit I knew one of the other bitches had told him about my drug habit. I quickly tried to explain that I only did it once in a while (which was a lie) and only for when I had a really bad day. I wanted to cry. I didn't want him to think bad of me. I don't know why, I had never cared what anyone thought of me before but for some reason he was a special case.
He looked at his feet and then back into my blue eyes. He said, "She also said if you're short of money you . . ." he didn't have to finish, I knew what he had been told.
I had sold myself maybe four times in my life to satisfy my habit. A tear ran down my face, I felt so ashamed.
I was about to explain to him why when he blurted out, "I have a thousand dollars. Will you do me the honor of mating with me?"
He looked crushed after he said it. I was in shock. Then I smiled at him.
"You want to mate with me, Tom?"
He was looking at his feet and replied, "Yes."
I had never heard a guy in my life call it mating. I've heard it called fucking, screwing, and sex but never mating. I loved the way he put it.
I whispered in his ear, "Okay, Tom, let's mate."
A big smile came over his face.
I said, "But on one condition. No money."
He said, "But-"
I jumped in and said, "I mean it, no money, Tom."
He agreed.
After work we took a taxi to the Excalibur Hotel where he was staying. I was so nervous. I hadn't felt that way since I had been a virgin in high school.
When we got to the hotel, he held my hand all the way to his room. The number of the room was 2069.
I flashed a smile at him and said, "Good room number! I'd have to say I like the 69 part the best."
A big grin came over his face and he began to turn red.
I thought to myself, 'I want him. I want him inside me.' He was the nicest, sweetest guy I had ever met. He made me feel like I was important.