The Acura Integra ahead of me was off kilter, leaning to the right. Sure enough, the right rear tire was almost flat. The car's brake lights and turn signal came on as it moved over into the breakdown lane.
As I began to pass by, I saw that the driver was a young woman. I like to think I would have stopped had it been someone older, but I really don't know. Even at first glance she was good-looking and in need of a man's help. So I pulled ahead of her into the breakdown lane and stopped.
It was sprinkling rain. I put on my St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap, the blue one they wear for road games; then, zipped up my windbreaker, and walked back to her car.
Her ash blonde mane was not much longer than my own blonde hair. She was wearing black pedal pushers and a faded denim jacket adorned with sequins. She looked at me, not as friendly or grateful as I expected; then said, "I've had a slow leak in that tire. Guess I should have had it fixed."
Raindrops were collecting in her hair, little diamonds that sparkled in the late afternoon light. At least that's how I remembered her later. "I can change it for you," I said, speaking loud enough to be heard over the traffic on Interstate-70. "You'll need to open the trunk."
She did so, and I began to undo the cover on the spare. She vigorously shook her head, causing the droplets in her hair to fly. I knew then that I had seen her before, but could not recall where. "Look," the woman said, "I'm getting wet out here. Do you mind if I get back in the car?" Almost as an afterthought she added, "I appreciate your help."
"No problem," I grinned. "Shouldn't take long."
But the spare tire was as flat as the one on the car. I walked up to the passenger side window and tapped on it. She clicked the ignition on and rolled down the window.
"Your spare tire's flat!" I yelled, "I can take you to a garage to get it fixed if you like."
"Dammit!" she swore, slamming her hand against the steering wheel, "I've got to be at work soon!" She considered her options, and then said, "Look, can you just drive me to my apartment?"
I agreed and offered to take the spare with me and get it repaired. She waited as I took out the spare and put it in my trunk. She had two bags of groceries in the back seat, so I transferred them to my car as well. The rain was coming down harder now. The woman got out and locked her car and sprinted to mine, sliding into the passenger seat.
She gave me a quick smile and just like that I recognized her. She was Jade. She saw the look of recognition on my face and frowned. Much to my surprise, she remembered me as well. "I thought it was you. You're the one who looked like he's still in high school, aren't you?"
It's strange to meet a woman casually like that, a woman so ordinary in dress, and recall that you've seen her stark naked, that you've caressed her soft butt, and that she has given you the most shameless looks of raw sexual desire. She was at once the same person and yet someone else.
"Just my luck!" Jade murmured. Then, "Okay, go ahead and say it. 'I didn't recognize you with your clothes on?' C'mon, I've heard all those witty lines!"
I shrugged, saying only, "Hi! My name's Cale." I offered her my hand but she didn't shake it. "Can we go now?" she said.
We arrived at her apartment in about ten minutes, and I carried both sacks of groceries as she opened the front door. A woman who also looked vaguely familiar got up from the sofa as we entered. She had shoulder length black hair and dark eyes, a trace of African-American in her.
"Where've you been, girl?" she cried, "we're gonna be late!"
"Had a flat tire and this guy helped me," Jade replied, smiling. "Recognize him?"
She looked at me for a second, then said, "Oh yes! The high school boy!" She grinned and went on, "How they ever let you in the club, junior, I'll never know!"
The two women began to put away the groceries. "Did you get my Tampax?" The other woman asked.
"Yeah," Jade replied. "Is a dozen enough?"
"Probably. I swear, I go through two every night." After a pause the other woman gave Jade a quick kiss on the cheek, saying, "Thanks for shopping, sweetie."
"You owe me a better kiss than that," Jade murmured. And just like that the two women were embracing, kissing each other deeply and moving their hands over each other, moaning almost imperceptibly. Jade especially didn't want to let go. When she did, she looked over to me as she caressed the other woman's breasts.
"Junior, I just want to be sure you understand .... Oh for Pete's sake, Teena, will you look at that!"
Both women stared at the bulge in my pants that was still swelling. Never had I ever gotten so hard so quickly. I blushed intensely; my throat was so tight I could hardly breathe.
"I just don't understand men!" Jade laughed, "I mean, you'd think girls like us would, but, go figure!"
CHAPTER 2
The women then shooed me out of the apartment. By seven o'clock I had gotten Jade's tire repaired and had put it on her Integra. Then I drove her car to her apartment and hid the key under a rock next to the porch as she had instructed. I called my friend Marty who came to pick me up and took me back to my own car.
Marty was the one who had taken me to the Gemini Club a week earlier as my 21st birthday present. I had had to show every form of ID on me to get in. Even then the manager, Andy, eyed me suspiciously, muttering, "Next time bring your birth certificate, kid. You don't look a day over 17." Nothing makes strip club managers more nervous than the thought of admitting a minor to the premises. They can lose their license in a heartbeat.
Jade had been the first dancer to perform. Later, when Marty invited me to pick a girl for a lap dance, I chose her. That night she was sensual and erotic but yet illusory, somehow hardly more real than a vivid daydream. Even now I believe seeing Jade as a real person that day she had the flat tire, or maybe her kiss with Teena, is what changed everything.
Once I was back in my car, I drove to Kayla's apartment and spent the evening. She was my girlfriend but we did not love each other. Warm affection was about the most either of us could muster. I could not get Jade out of my mind. When I made love to Kayla later on, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine that it was Jade's body I was holding, that it was her pussy that welcomed my cock. But of course it was not.
After that I could think of nothing but Jade. In bed my cock grew rigid each time I replayed her kiss with Teena in my mind. I would casually brush my cock a few times and experience a breathtaking climax. I had the same recurring dream: I would be desperately looking for Jade, but somehow could never find her before the dream ended. My longing to see her again became irresistible.
Three nights later I arrived at the Gemini Club about eight o'clock, and stayed near the back for a while. Then Jade came on to do her number; her music was the Pointer Sisters' Jump (for My Love).
Now she was truly Jade again, in her blonde wig with light green highlights, a green choker, and short see-through lace cami and G-string. I moved to the front and sat along the runway, entirely mesmerized. Somehow the music, the smoke, the awareness of others faded until I was conscious of nothing but her.
As colored lights played across her body, she seemed as much a Platonic ideal of womanhood as living flesh. I marveled at how she could be so womanly, with full, slightly pendulous breasts and ample hips, and yet so athletic. Soon, down to her G-string, she worked the pole with adroit spins and double knee holds. Her agile, supple body left me breathless in wonder.
In that instant I adored the woman, desired her as I had never desired another thing. My whole life up to then seemed no more than a prologue to this moment. I now had a purpose in life: to love, to worship her faithfully. I wanted nothing more.
My heart soared when Jade recognized me and gave me a wink and a smile. She did the same with several other men, but I knew that she was just doing it for them because it was expected. But the look she gave me was special. I could tell.
Each time she leaned down, I slipped a one- or sometimes five-dollar bill into her garter. When she finally eased out of her G-string and was naked except for her garter and platform heels, I could contain myself no longer. My climax was wonderfully intense. She had never touched me, or I myself. Just the sight of her was enough.
It seemed like hours but was likely only a few minutes before Jade invited me for a lap dance. Like an eager puppy I followed her into the back room and paid my $25. Again I was blushing and scarcely able to breathe as Jade stripped naked and moved onto my lap, her breasts just inches from me, so close I could feel her body heat. She turned and presented her butt to me, the only part of her I was allowed to touch. I gently fondled it, knowing that Carl, one of the bouncers, was watching me from a few feet away.
And just like that I came again. Jade turned and paused, looking at me. She bent down to my ear and said, "Did you just cum?"
"Yes!" I whimpered deliriously, "but please don't stop! Please finish the dance!"
With a wry smile the woman continued. As the music ended she drew her lips across my cheek and over my own lips. That was enough to bring me to yet another climax, almost as strong as the first two.
Drained emotionally as well as physically, I made my way to the men's restroom. In one of the stalls I took off my cum-soaked Depends Guard for Men that I had worn under my boxers. Before I had left my parents' home where I lived, the mere thought of Jade had made my cock stiffen. I knew what would happen when I saw her at the club, and was prepared for the inevitable. I put on a fresh Depends. The night was not over.
With Jade's second lap dance that night came my fourth climax. I stayed around watching Jade and her roommate Teena, whose stage name was Aja, perform. Aja also gave me a lap dance with the last of the $130 that I had brought to the club, but it was not the same. She was not Jade.