Lap Dancer
The thrill of love... The agony of loss... The joy of arousal?
An escort driver rescues a young woman getting away from a bad situation
LEGALESE: Don't read this if you are underage, if it is illegal in your area, if it is offensive to you, or if you cannot distinguish fiction from reality. This is a work of fiction.
All sexually active characters are above the age of consent on their planet of origin.
Many thanks go to RF-Fast and thor_pf for editing and polishing. Any bad grammar left is wholly on me and my artistic style... and a strong reliance on spell check.
Copyright (c) 2018 by Acup
***SNOWFLAKE ALERT***
***SNOWFLAKE ALERT***
***SNOWFLAKE ALERT***
Warning! This story may contain portions of reality that will conflict with your alternate universe. If you suffer from Hoplophobia, Phronemophobia, or a general fear of reality you may not wish to read further.
So before I get started here's a word of warning. If you're a delicate snowflake you will not like the ending of this story. You want to rant about it later too bad, the rants will be deleted. Go find your safe place to hide from reality.
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"I'm a lap dancer!"
"And I'm ten times better. Now get that behemoth moving old man before I come up there and kick your ass."
"Told you didn't she?"
I put the truck in gear and keyed the mic again
"On the road again..."
I got some groans but we were on the move.
I had to grin. If someone had told me that I would be harassed by a little waif of a woman and love it, I would have laughed my ass silly. But right now all I could do was look forward to tonight.
I'm Conrad Coutts, CC to most people. I'm a thirty four year old guy. Average looking, average build. Only ten pounds heavier than I was in high school. Maybe a little hairier than some, but not a grizzly by any means... and I'm a lap dancer. Once in a while I'm a pole dancer, but usually I'm a lap dancer.
Are you confused now?
* * * *
I started off like any other kid in a medium sized town. Mowing lawns and doing odd jobs for extra money. My sophomore year in high school I got a job at the local car dealership. Washing cars, sweeping floors, hauling out the trash, lots of gofer jobs.
Whenever possible I helped the mechanics, held things for the body guys, and absorbed what I could. In my junior and senior year I had the option in shop to go into auto body and took advantage of it.
I learned very quickly that while I did well at the mechanical and electrical side of putting things back together, I just didn't have the eye or talent for actual body and paint work.
My parents tried to steer me to college, but I knew better, I was a hands on guy. I did take a semester of body shop classes at the local community college, but beyond that it was just the basics.
At the dealership however, I was working my way up in the body shop. My work there went hand in hand with what I had learned in high school and the community college.
Things took a slight turn after I had started at the community college. First off I met Cris. She was a business major heading for accounting with legs that just caught my attention for some reason. This was surprising because I'm a big tit man. Second was an old church bus.
The bus had been stolen and taken for a joy ride. The sheriff caught them, but not before they had side swiped several vehicles messing up the wheel chair lift on the side of the bus.
The other guys did all the body work and got everything working mechanically, but they couldn't get the lift to operate the way it was supposed to. Creeping one way and racing the other right past its stops.
So they did what they usually did, and pawned it off on the kid to get it working. If it didn't work they could blame the kid for not knowing what he was doing, and I was the lowest paid guy in the shop so it didn't cost them as much for me to play with it.
The worst part was that the bus had been through several owners, and from all the tape and different colored wires none of them knew just what they were doing with the wiring in that thing. Add to that the age and the lift manufacturer being an odd ball and long out of business and I had my work cut out for me.
I lucked out in one way, it was old enough that it was all switches and relays, no processor boards involved. I mean how bad could it be? It goes up and stops, it goes down and stops. Sounds simple right? RIGHT!
After a couple of days running it with all the switches bypassed to see what tripped when, and almost taking my finger off in the process, I began to get an idea of what was supposed to happen in what order.
I got most of it back in place with all new wires and discovered that the joy riders had somehow knocked out a relay, only the mounting screws gave any evidence it was ever there.
So while I waited on that to come in, and since the insurance company was footing the bill, I piddled with other things on the bus.
I replaced the switch on the stop sign handle so the alternating lights went on automatically. The fan in the back seat heater barely moved. I salvaged the heater fan from an old pickup that was headed for the junk yard and got it going. I went scrounging at a local junk yard and came up with a couple of clearance lights and two interior lights to replace the ones that were badly corroded.
The back door had a bungee cord on the handle to keep it closed. I couldn't do anything about how sloppy the mechanism was, but I could adjust the latch so it would at least try and latch properly. I even crawled under and welded an exhaust bracket back in place. It wasn't a pretty weld with how little experience I had back then, but it was functional.
Once the relay came in I popped it into place and tested everything out and pronounced it ready to go back to the customer. Since it was the local church, the dealership had me clean it up, so Friday I parked it on a slope and pressure washed it inside and out.
Before it dried completely inside I hung half a dozen air fresheners in it and closed it up tight, The sun heating the interior to let the remaining moisture infuse the scent. Two days later on Monday with the air fresheners removed it still had a nice smell to it when they picked it up.
I didn't think any more of it, and went back to my usual projects combined with being the little guy that could twist around and get his hand up in the dash to work on wiring.
A few weeks later that first thing found me again. I had seen Cris a few times at college, and we'd shared a few nice conversations. But when my classes were over that was it, I didn't have any way of getting in touch with her.
I was ass over tea kettle in a red Buick. My head in the foot well and ankles over the back of the seat with my arm snaked up in the dash trying to get a speedometer cable loose that did not want to budge.
"YO CONRAD!"
"WHAT!?" I hollered out still tugging and twisting.
"WHERE YOU AT?"
"RED BUICK," I hollered back waiving my foot out the door still fighting the cable.
I was going to start cussing a blue streak at the cable when I turned my head just in time to catch myself.
First off because Jimmy was standing there, second because there was a preacher standing next to him, and third, even upside down I recognized those legs coming out of that dress.
Momentarily forgetting my head was under the dash, I tried to sit up, bashing my forehead on the underside.
"Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmmmm," was all I said. Internally I was cussing a different blue streak the way it hurt.
I heard the most delicious giggle. I looked to see Cris snickering, the preacher with a raised eyebrow, and Jimmy with a scowl.
I laid my head back and sighed, "What's up boss?"
"Conrad, Reverend Michaels. Reverend Michaels, Conrad. Conrad, see if you can help him out. Work it out between the two of you."
That was code for take care of him but it doesn't have to be done through the dealership.
I glanced over at the Reverend and Cris, "Give me a few seconds. Gotta get this ... hrmph ... cable loose."
They both chuckled at me but didn't say anything. I gave it one last tug and twist and managed to get it loose. After a bit of twisting and turning I was back right side up with the world again. I grabbed a rag and dabbed the little cut on the back of my hand.
"Oh Conrad, you've cut your hand!" Cris exclaimed softly.
I just chuckled. "Hazards of the job, kinda like paper cuts huh Cris?" I held up my hand showing a few little cuts, the current one already starting to clot.
"Oh," she smiled a bit sheepishly and looked at the floor.
"You know my daughter?" the Reverend asked a bit pointedly.
"Conrad went to the same college I did. We met a few times in the cafeteria."
"Oh?"
"Don't worry daddy, Conrad was always a gentleman."
I smiled, good thing she couldn't read my thoughts, then or now. "So what can I do for you Reverend?"
He thought for a second, then spoke up. "Pastor Thompson over at St. Michaels said many good things about what you were able to do for their bus."
I thought for a moment, "St Michaels..." I didn't recognize the name at first. "Oh yeah, the one the kids took for a spin."