Veronica's Story

My name is Veronica but I usually go by the name "Roni". I make my living as an "exotic dancer" which of course, is really a euphemism for "stripper". My life is has been a mixed blessing. By most measures, I have been blessed with exceptionally good looks. I'm 26 years old, tall at 5'10" and I weigh 130lbs. My hair is soft, light brown and long, reaching to the middle of my back. I have large bright green eyes. I keep very trim and fit. I am fortunate that I have little trouble keeping my figure. My breasts are soft, well shaped and good sized, but most importantly, they are all mine. So much for the good news.

Maybe it has been because of my appearance, I don't know, but the rest of my life has been pretty much of a disaster. My parents split up when I was seven. I lived with my mother. She did the best she could before she died when I was eighteen. She left me with just enough money for me to get settled with a practical used car, an apartment in a reasonably safe part of town, and enough modest furniture to be comfortable.

I flitted from job to job for several years. I was a waitress in several places, a receptionist for a crummy lawyer, a bank teller, a sales girl in a department store and other assorted dead end jobs. Every place was the same. I was constantly being hit upon. No matter how conservatively I dressed, I was always jeered at, pinched, and propositioned. That shyster lawyer even went so far as to put an envelope on my desk before I got in one morning. In it was a page from a porno magazine showing a couple screwing. Across the page was written, "My wife is out of town for the weekend. How about you spending some time at my house?" I walked out of the office without saying a word to him. I never went back.

I began to get perverted phone calls from him. He called more than once, telling me that he was lying on his bed, naked, and jerking off while looking through my employee records. I always hung up on him immediately. The police said that there was nothing that they could do. I finally had to move to another apartment and get a new phone number.

Now, I'm pretty emotionally detached from what I do. I go to work, do my job and go home. I guess that makes me a good actress. The owner of the club says that I am the most popular of all the girls. I really turn on the clientele. He says that I could double my income if I would do "private" shows like bachelor parties and stuff like that. I'm not interested.

Working in the club is pretty much the same every night. While you strip, you are as seductive as possible. You spot two or three guys or groups of guys that are having a good time. You massage and wiggle your tits, give them a few close-up looks at your ass and crotch, and you're pretty much guaranteed a good tip.

The night that changed my life forever started out pretty normal. The seats around the stage were filled with loud boisterous men. They were all drinking and carrying on as usual. The tips were running pretty good. The seats and tables just a bit further away were about half occupied and more dimly lit by the light from the stage. These folks usually are less vocal but enjoy the show. I like the guys in this middle area the most. They are rarely rude, OK tippers, and actually say "thank you" when you come up to them after a dance. They seem appreciative of what they have just seen.

The ones I hate are the "shadow people". They are in the darkest areas at the back of the club, furthest from the stage. They are very creepy. They are always alone. They never say anything. They dress badly, rarely bathe and constantly smell of cheep beer. They usually keep their hands in their pockets for most of the evening.

I was the last dancer that night. When I was finished, I took a shower in the modest dressing room. I always took a shower before leaving the club. I just can't wait the get the smell of cigarettes and stale beer off my body and out of my hair. I can't wait to wash off the heavy makeup and the thick hairspray.

It was 2:30am when the manager and I where the last to walk out of the club. It was raining in a down pour. The manager locked the door, popped open his umbrella, muttered a "bye" and splashed off to his car around the corner and out of my life for the evening. I am sure it didn't even dawn on him that I had no umbrella.

I stood for a moment under the awning in the glow of the club's neon light. I looked way off into the darkness through the rain to the end of the parking lot. Only two cars remained. I was going to get wet. It was just a matter of exactly when and how much. The rain seemed to get louder and harder as I hunched my coat over my head as best I could. Off I went. My tennis shoes soaked completely through within the first few steps. The wind blew the cold rain right into my face. I felt cold water trickle down my back and seep through my shirt by the time I was just half way across the lot. A step or two before I reached the driver's side of my car, I realized that I had forgotten to get my keys from my purse when I was under the awning. It was then that I gave up the futile battle. I let the coat slip back into my shoulders and began fumbling through my purse. I finally found them, unlocked the car and got in. I let out a huge breath and just looked out through the windshield at the driving rain. I sat there, soaking wet. My back was already getting clammy from my wet clothes. A flash of lightning cracked off in the distance. The thunder rolled my way.

"OH MY GOD", I screamed, startled by the hard pounding at the window. My heart leapt to my throat when I looked over to the passenger window. A man was there, banging on the glass. I immediately thought that he was one of the creepy shadow people! He had waited for me. He was going to rape me and most likely kill me. The next day, the newspapers would say that a "woman was killed last night in the parking lot of a strip joint. Police said that the woman, a stripper in the club, was found in her car, nude and beaten to death. They have no clues."

He was banging at the glass with a bloodied hand. It left smeared red water on the window. His hair and face were dripping. He squinted through the hard rain that stung his face. He stopped banging and made a circular hand gesture signaling me to roll down the window. My fear dropped a bit and I began to breathe again. I guess I figured that if this guy was really going to hurt me, he could have easily crashed right through the closed car window, grabbed me by the throat, pulled me through the broken glass and dragged me off into the night.

He repeated the gesture and mouthed the word, "please".

Yeah, I know. I should have driven off as fast as I could but I didn't. Like an idiot, I leaned over and rolled down the window just a crack. I was still scared and my heart was pounding. The roar of the rain made it hard for me to hear him.

"Listen. I'm sorry. I have a flat tire. It's a rental car. I don't know where I am and I cut my hand trying to fix the tire before I found out that the spare was no good." He held up the cut back of his hand as if to lend credence to his story. I noticed it also he had black grease smudges on his hand and face.

I just looked at him in the rain. I couldn't speak. He stepped away from the door for a moment. I watched him through the dim light of a far away parking lot light. He turned around as if looking for another option. He was looking for some one else to ask for help. Of course, there was no one. He stepped up to my door again and looked back at me through the window. He had the expression of a lost puppy on his wet face. His cut paw...uh...hand, still slowly bleeding.

I still did not speak but instead, nodded and unlocked the door. He vanished but returned in an instant. He opened the door, tossed a small valise onto the floor in the back and sat down in the passenger seat. Just like I had done earlier, he let out a big sigh and looked out of the window for a few seconds. I continued to just look at him. It was all so unreal.

He turned to me and said, "Hey I'm really sorry about this. I hope I didn't scare you. I was really stuck. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come along or opened the car and let me in. I really mean it. Thanks a lot!"

I felt myself continuing to just look at him. My mind was pretty blank. My only thought was of how genuinely grateful he seemed. I finally snapped out of my pseudo-trance. Looking down at the stranger's swollen hand I said, "Oh my. How is your hand? It looks like it really hurts."

"It does", he said. "It isn't really cut very bad. It kind of throbs. I banged it on the wheel well when my hand slipped when I was trying to get the tire off of the car."

I started the car. I was wet and cold. I wanted to get the heater on as soon as possible.

He spoke again, "Listen. I was here in town on business and was killing a few hours before going to the airport. My flight is long gone now. I don't want to be any more trouble to you so if you can take me to the nearest hotel, I'll spend the night there. I can call that damned car rental company in the morning, and get a flight out tomorrow."

"Ok", I muttered and began to drive.

My hair was matted and stuck to my face. My back was soaking wet and I could feel a drop of water tickling the end of my nose. My passenger wasn't in much better shape. We didn't speak for quite a while. We both just looked straight ahead, out the window and into the darkness that was violently interrupted by an occasional flash of brilliant lightning. Other than the boom of the accompanying thunder, the only sounds to be heard were the din of the millions of rain drops shattering against the car and the slap of the badly worn but still functional windshield wipers.

There seemed to be an unknown bond between us. It was if there was an unusual parallelism in our lives that we of course had no conscience knowledge of. My initial fears were all but gone when I finally broke the silence. "I live very close to here. Your hand looks pretty bad. We can do something for it there, then you can call a cab and go to a hotel."

"That would be great. I'm really sorry to put you to all this trouble. I really appreciate this." We went back to looking out into the night and did no more talking.

I pressed the button on the remote and the motorized gate to my building's underground parking garage opened. I said a silent prayer of thanks. It doesn't always work and tonight was not a night that I wanted to get out and walk around to the main entrance. We remained quite while we walked across the cement floor of the garage. There was only the loud sound rain water dripping from the pipes on the ceiling. We road the elevator to the eight floor in silence. Nothing was said while I unlocked the apartment door. He opened it and held it for me as I walked in and then he followed. I didn't turn around when I heard the valise touch the floor behind me. He was genuinely uneasy about the circumstances. Maybe it was because I could sense that feeling in him that I became less fearful.

"I don't want to be any more trouble. If can use your bathroom to get cleaned up, I'll call a cab and be on my way."

I looked at him from across the room. I could also see myself in the mirror on the wall behind him. We were a mess. Our coats were lumpy with retained water. Our hair was in our faces and we were both dripping all over the floor. The expression "drowned rats" was very appropriate.

"Do you have a change of clothes in your bag?" I asked. He nodded and so I said, "The guest bathroom is through there. You can shower and change in there."

"You're terrific. Thanks a lot", he said as he picked up his bag and went down the hall.

As for me, I went into my bedroom and locked the door behind me. It wasn't until I heard the sound of the shower from the other room that I went into my bathroom and fixed myself up. I got out of my soaking clothes, put on a dry bra and panties and covered myself with my thick white floor-length terry robe. For the first time in hours I began to feel warm. I dried and brushed my hair but put on no makeup. When I left the bedroom and went into the kitchen, I noticed that the shower was now off. It was 3:15 in the morning. I made a pot of decaffeinated coffee and then sat on the sofa, snuggled in my bathrobe, with my legs pulled up under me. The warm cup was slowly taking the chill out of my fingers. I closed my eyes and breathed in smell of the coffee. When I opened them, he was standing in front of me in the middle of the room. He was dressed in pressed tan slacks and a white dress shirt with the top button undone. His right hand was neatly wrapped in white gauss.

"How's the hand?" I asked.

"Oh, fine. Thanks for all the help. I hope you don't mind that I used the bandage stuff that I found in the bathroom?"

I didn't answer the question but instead asked, "Do you want some coffee?"

He nodded and went into the kitchen to pour himself a cup. Alone for that moment, my brain performed another mental sigh in its effort to relax but I still retained a sense of sad surrender to the circumstances of my life. How had my life gotten to this point? I guess this present situation was a fine example. It is the middle of the night and I have a total stranger in my apartment. We both feel awkward but for some reason I am no longer afraid. There was something about this man that seemed familiar.

I suppose it was because of that those feelings that I let my guard down even further. "Listen, it's after three in the morning. You're not going to get a cab at this hour. If you like, you can stay here on the couch."

He accepted.

It was so late but neither of us had "come down" enough to go to sleep. The more we talked, the more comfortable I felt. He was a gentle man, always polite, with a kind voice. He listened well when he needed to but also shared his thoughts freely. We seemed a lot alike. The words that seemed most appropriate for us were "lonely, disillusioned and sad". Because of our common outlook, we seemed to gain strength from each other. Eventually, our talk came around again to the present situation.

"You have been so kind to let me stay here. What can I offer in return?"

"There is something that you can do for me. My neck is killing me. Would you mind rubbing it out for me?"

He accepted my request gladly. We sat on the couch with my back to him. He touch was very effective. It was strong and sure. My muscles instantly responded to his talented hands. He moved about my neck and shoulders with firm hard strokes. The tensions seemed to melt away. I began to feel my head roll around with ever increasing flexibility. I even caught myself moaning softly on occasion. We sat there in silence while he worked his magic on me. My mind drifted in and out of the present. My whole body seemed to soften. I could not recall ever being so relaxed. My upper body started to sway when he began to massage my back.

When my mind was off in another place and incapable of rational thought, I did something quite impulsive. I leaned back, rested my head against him and kissed him. How could I have ever done that! He kissed me back. My body went warm and limp. I laid back against him even more. His strong upper body surrounded me. His kisses were delightful. His lips were firm and sensual. He smelled every bit like a man. I felt myself swoon in his arms as they wrapped around me like a blanket. I looked up at his handsome face. We kissed again and my arms wrapped around him. I so much wanted to hug a man again and be hugged like this. Our embrace and kisses intensified. We were both not sure about our feelings but there was something "right" about it all.

He leaned into me, causing me to lie down on the sofa. My rode opened, not quite fully exposing my breasts. He lay down on top of me, ignoring what my robe revealed. He wanted to kiss me again. I wanted to be kissed again too. His lips pressed against mine with deliberate firmness. I moaned from the feeling of his weight upon my entire body. I sank deeper into the sofa. He began kissing my neck. His warm sweet breath felt wonderful against my skin. My arms reached up and wrapped around his back. I embraced him as hard as I could. I did not want him to stop. I wanted him to make love to me but I said nothing. I did not have to. He knew.

He whispered into my ear, "Are you sure about this?"

I felt a tear form at one eye and I whispered back just a simple, "yes."

He did not then attack me. He did not then ravish me. He did not then maul me. He did nothing different. He still kissed me and held me. I felt so wonderful. Stirrings from deep within me began. They seemed almost foreign and strange. There were certainly infrequent. My abdomen felt warm as if just awakened. I felt a faint throbbing between my legs. I had an uncomfortable urge to squirm. After moving my legs just a bit under the stranger, he slid between them. I felt the unmistakable pressure of male hardness against my thigh. It and I felt very good!

Our kissing continued. My hands ran up and down his back to encourage him. His hands were soon sliding between us as best they could. I craved his touch to my breast but there was none at first. His hands moved several times against my hips, my stomach and up to my shoulders. I was desperate for his kisses at my nipples that grew harder with every second.

His kissing stopped for a moment and he rose up on extended arms and looked down at my face. He took one hand and slowly slipped one side of my robe off of one breast, the terri cloth rubbed across my nipple, sending shocks throughout my entire body. I turned my head away. I could not look at him. I made my living revealing my entire body to men but at that instant, I could not look into the face of the man who now could see one exposed breast.

His kissing resumed. His delightful lips made their way from my neck, down my chest and to my breast. His wet lips and tongue at first just grazed my hard nipple. I took a deep breath, pressing my chest harder against his mouth. He drew my nipple inside and licked me with expert precision. I moaned in surrender. I felt my lower body become moist and soft with excitement. His leg parted my rode and pressed firmly against me. I hugged him as hard as I could.

I was loosing control now. I wanted him so badly. His attentions to my breasts were doing as intended. I was getting so wet from his suckling that I felt my juices leave me and wet my inner thighs. His kissing had opened my rode completely. He kissed and licked his way down between my breasts, down my stomach. I so very much wanted him to continue. I felt his tongue tease the whips of pubic hair that still retained. I heard him breath deeply. I knew that he could smell my arousal.

Like everything he had done thus far, nothing was ever rushed. This added to my enjoyment and to my desire for more. His tongue teased the lips of my pussy. It grazed the hood of my desperate clitoris. It tickled the crease of my thighs. It was all too much. I was flowing with liquid passion. I had to have him "there".

He must have sensed my condition and just at the right moment, slipped his tongue deep between my twitching pussy lips. I let out a groan and placed my hands aside his head. I spread my legs to afford him all possible access. His tongue plunged deep into me. I squirmed with delight. His tongue and lips played with me and caressed my clit, bringing me to unparalleled heights of arousal.

"I'm coming!" I unnecessarily announced and instantly fell over into the climactic abyss. My entire body shuddered with his tongue pressing ever so deep into me. My pussy released a torrent of sputtering cum. I felt it everywhere. It seemed like my spasms lasted an eternity. I had never had such a complete orgasm. My body quivered with the final throws of my orgasm. My lover slipped up my naked body, gently kissing me. The scent of my womanhood increased as he moved up by body. His wet face was soon kissing my cheek. He paused for a moment and looked deep into my eyes. He wanted to kiss my mouth but was hesitant. I was not. I grabbed his face and drew it to mine. I kissed him over and over again in appreciation for how he made me feel. The abundant presence, smell, and taste of my cum was of little concern to me. We lay there in an embrace, me completely naked, and he fully clothed.