Nero let his eyes glide across the strippers, his beer slowly sweating in the warmth of the seedy bar. The extra creds in his pocket felt heavy... an illusion but one he was comfortable with. He was out for an afternoon's delight with a stripper. Now came the difficult selection process.
This was his favorite bar. The Casbah. As sleazy strip clubs went, it was a good one. Which meant it was as clean as it could be given the drug habits of the strippers who worked there. Some were outright hooking, but management tended to turn a blind eye... so long as they got their cut if the slitch was stupid enough to bring a John inside for a beer or a dance... or more in the VIP. The strippers were not the best looking bunch as a whole. A few naturally beautiful women floated through from time to time, but they never stayed long. Most were only average looking. The ones whom everyone knew were the skanks.
Coming in the mornings had its advantages. The lack of flesh selection was compensated by the woman's willingness to "do more" for the customer. NOPD presence was monitored more easily in the daytime, and the bartender/pseudo-pimp had an easy time watching for unusual activity. There were also fewer tourists looking to sprawl by fragging a sleazy stripper. A few... but not enough to warrant anything more than rogue-casual attire. It was also the time when management often did its little sweeps. Which meant he, as a local, got his face known. Management knew him well enough to simply ignore his presence, which made his frequent trips to the bathroom to toke up totally non-issues.
Four strippers. Two black... two white. A recent policy change ordered by the owner. One person, Jax, was obviously not in the city; two of the strippers were slender things. Normal policy put the ugly fat chicks on day shift with the good looking, sickly thin addicts working the nights. One of the black strippers, a well-built woman with a silver tongue stud, sauntered from the back area. Her private dance over, the mark quickly made his way to the bathroom. Nero chuckled as he looked at the glass opening onto the dance area. He tilted his nose slightly and sniffed. As the stripper walked by he smelled more stripper funk than normal. A small smile pulled at his lips. She noticed, and Nero rode it.
It wasn't long before the black stripper... he's asked for her stage name and gotten, and promptly forgotten, it... was seated next to him. The idle prater was more for the bartender than for either of them. It was window dressing and everyone knew it. The playful red glow behind his rich brown eyes signaled his willingness to get more than just a beer. The stripper let him give her a back rub, which Nero was more than adept at doing. Skillful hands teased her arousal to near dangerous peaks. But she just couldn't let go; Nero sensed the stripper in her grind down as she tried to hustle him into the back. The bartender, a very normal looking white male, noticed the blue frost in his eyes. Only a momentary flicker of sadness passed through his eyes as he walked over to the bathroom for some reason. When the stripper rose to go to the bathroom Nero left, casually tipping one of the white strippers.
* * * *
Bourbon was not quite packed, but there were just enough people to give credence to watching ones step. The hustlers were just beginning to show their faces... along with a more subtle increase in police presence. Nero strutted down the sidewalk, quietly humming a trance tune as his eyes took in the small details he always found interesting. An older gentleman, wife at his side, let his eyes flirt over the doorway to a fancy strip club. His wife was equally subtle in her attentions to a very well built Latino youth. A cop executed a perfect "I'd rather be dead" look. Chances favored the truth at 50/50... plus or minus your current cred balance. His destination was between Chartres and Royal. Another bar owned by the same people, but a drekload sleazier.
The Gryndir was well known for having some of the easiest lays in the strip club industry. They would also hire anyone willing to strip or hook. It was an open secret; they got raided on a regular basis. Just enough busts happened to keep management honest... or as honest as ANY Big Sleazy strip club can get.
His gaydar pinged the instant he stepped across the threshold. His eyes quickly scanned the assembled strippers, more than he expected on a Friday afternoon. He spotted the two near the front door instantly. They LOOKED like cheap whores. They also had a drekload of script dangling from their garters. Both were anorexic and showed track marks on their arms. Nero shook his head slightly, then walked to the bar. One glance at the bartender confirmed his ping. She was gay. Handy, especially since he thought she was cute.
Nero asked for and received a beer, then sat down. The bartender asked if he wanted company, to which Nero gave an almost comical non-answer. As he intended, the bartender walked over to the three girls sitting at the far end of the bar. Speaking to one... Nero was pleased to see his guess was right, and worried about why his gaydar jingled instead of giving him a solid ping... Nero smiled as the very cute woman walked over to him.
The conversation began with standard stripper talk. Name. Where he was from. Why he was in the Big Sleazy. Yada yada yada. Nero answered the questions truthfully; being a short-term local had benefits he'd learned to exploit his first few weeks in the city. It wasn't long before the talk drifted to drugs. She was very much a naturalist. Weed and shrooms, which she had not experienced. Weed was her favorite... and he had a new glass spoon and a small but ample supply of good cheap weed.
He allowed himself to be talked into buying her a bottle. Creds weren't the hitch; he had a feeling that his "dance" was going to be the stuff of cook lore. Banging a stripper in the strip club. His first experience. And not undeserved; he'd been a good little boy almost since his arrival. Tame by any sprawl's standards, his adventures were mostly confined to watching others make hoops out of themselves.
She went by Star. Dark hair. Athletic features. Full blooded Sicilian if her words were chip truth. Intelligent. Funny. Laid back. Exactly the type Nero wanted to flirt with. And maybe more. She was also big-boned. Firm thighs. Nero agreed, but only if they could smoke themselves silly before, during and after their "dance." She readily agreed, handling the paperwork with the bartender, who confirmed her sexual status with her wife/husband. And still his gaydar jingled.
His eyes slid over one particular stripper. From floor to lips she was stunning. Long... very long legs gave way to a shapely bottom and waist. Her breasts were small, but not overly so. ABOVE the lips, it was easy to see that this was a transsexual. A special woman. His mind twitched; it knew that term.
* * * *
Two bowls later, they were both stoned. Star moved more fluidly. Nero let the Beast take control... and was surprised that is was actually feeling... amused. Not until Nero's head was inches away from Star's cunt that he got his first clue. The smell was certainly not feminine. It was neutral. Too neutral. Unnaturally neutral. He took a hand and stroked the crotch... the slight bulge and lack of a wet entrance told the tale. He'd picked a transsexual.
It was not something he'd planned for. It was also not something he thought about too much. It was a three party system in spades and he was just looking for a blowjob. Most "men" would think it was too close to homosexual sex. Yet Star considered herself a woman. Was apparently going through the full treatment. And she was cute enough to get past his acute natural instincts.
He didn't stop.... exactly.
* * * *
Star's eyes widened. She'd hoped he wouldn't freak. He didn't react when she dropped her hints about her true nature. He was hell bent on getting a stripper into the back. She needed the creds. He was local and a repeat customer. Keeping him happy was her job. Yet there was this... coolness... she found enticing. He was just looking for a good time. No commitment. No drama. Just a good time with a beautiful, witty woman. In a strip club, but at least he still dreamed. Most of her clients came in with the wide-eyed glare all tourists have and try desperately to mask with false bravado.
When he proceeded to finger her asshole through her g-string and harness, Star let herself be taken over by the surprisingly pleasurable sensations. Nero was bent on making her cum. He'd said something to that effect during their conversations; she was glad his words matched his actions. He snarled just as she did, only his sounds were more... real. She DID enjoy what he was doing, but HE seemed to savor the entire moment... and every moment before and after. Primal. Untamed by human emotions. She had to admonish him not to leave hickeys... even as she wanted them.
He was good. Very good. He also adhered to his word. "I don't leave a woman unsatisfied." Her own orgasm threatened to shatter her drugged mind. Her own Beast growled, the sound rumbling through the darkened back room. His reaction, caught through narrowed eyelids, was almost comical. He knew... he just didn't care. Her hands gripped his neck as his tongue danced wickedly over her breasts. She let herself go... as much as possible given the thin walls... and hissed as her orgasm ripped through her body. And still he kept on, sliding a second finger into her asshole. She stopped him, the fury of the first orgasm still present in her shaking body.
"Hold on... I can't take another one..."
* * * *
Nero grinned proudly. Even stoned he knew that this was more than just idle stripper talk after a faked orgasm. Granted... he did not have a wet pussy to confirm her statement. Both being stoned and more than a bit tipsy did not help clarify things. But his gut said she was telling the truth. Her hand sliding seductively over his crotch was also proof. IT lacked the standard stripper come-on. Her face, still more feminine than masculine, rippled with pleasure.
"Are you allowed to touch me?" he asked innocently. Thankful for his natural affinity for the shadows, he cast a long look at the blocked door. She smiled and reached for his crotch.
He expected her to stop him when he went for his belt. She did. He nodded; he'd always wondered just how a guy was supposed to get dressed in a hurry when a raid came through. Star fished out his cock, her eyes gliding over the shadowed member. Just enough light illuminated him, giving it an almost phantasmal form. Yet he knew she saw only what she wanted to see... a hard male member that she'd brought to life.
Nero sat down, willing his body to relax even more. His senses opened, taking in the entire club. The bartender and her husband. The other strippers. Every move was carefully monitored. Star knelt between his legs, her dark hair clearly visible in the darkness of the room. Then... he waited.
* * * *
The Beast snarled as Star swirled her tongue around the tip of his cock. Not since the Great Betrayal had it been so totally relaxed and satisfied. It was still uncertain about her motives, but her actions were clearly understood. She wanted Nero to cum. The Beast chuckled; Nero lasted longer than most.
