I barely gave any thought to the conversation when Jessica came into my office several months ago and asked if I had any problem with her moonlighting to help ends meet following her recent divorce. Prior to coming to work at my law office as a paralegal, Jessica had been a bartender and server while working her way through a local college. A one-night stand from her college days had left her with a son, and her subsequent marriage failed. Jessica's ex-husband was a fool. He was a drug user and drank too much. He also failed to recognize the gem of a wife he had. Jessica worked hard and overcame many challenges. I was not surprised that she sought additional work to make sure she and her son had all that they would need.
Business was good at the firm, but I was paying Jessica all that I could afford. It upset me that she needed to find extra income, but I was doing all that I could and she assured me that she understood. I had not inquired about the other job. It did not appear to interfere with what duties she had at the firm. She was talented and bright. At age thirty and a single mother, she probably could not attempt to start law school, but she certainly had the aptitude. Did I mention that Jessica was drop dead gorgeous?
Jessica lived in the county just south of where I practiced. Cases would occasionally take me out of town but I tried to stay local. Anything that required me to travel had to have a great likelihood of success or a deep-pocketed client that could cover the expenses. One such case was for a client that owned and operated a coal business in the southern part of the state. I tried to convince the company to hire a lawyer in the county where the matter was pending, but they liked my work and insisted that they would be more comfortable if I took the case.
As the case progressed, it became apparent that it would require much more work and travel than I originally expected but lucrative to the point that I would dedicate a significant amount of my time to it. The case and most of the witnesses were three counties away and on each trip I passed through Jessica's home county. On a few occasions, I would pick her up at her residence on my way to depositions or hearings. Having her with me was invaluable in every instance. I always tried to have her home by the end of the business day so she could go to her other job. We never talked about it. When she thought the firm's work would conflict with her other job, she'd make a somewhat secretive call to her "other" boss or a co-worker to substitute for her. I respected her privacy and did not inquire.
We reached a point when mediation was scheduled in an effort to see if there might be common ground for settlement. Due to the complexities of the case the mediation was scheduled over a three day period. Jessica and I spent a considerable amount of time in preparation for the mediation. As much as I would have liked to have had her with me for the extent of the stay, I realized it would interfere with her second job so I did not ask.
The mediation was tedious but ultimately successful. After three days of hearing about the strengths of the opponent's case and the weaknesses of ours while emphasizing why my client should prevail, I was exhausted but wanting to celebrate. As I left the mediator's office after dark on a Friday my mind began surveying the appropriate venues on the trip home where I might let my hair down just a bit.
Out in the middle of coal country there was a small town, barely a crossroads, which had a strip club. It was off the beaten path about thirty minutes from the U.S. highway that I had been traveling. Although I had heard varying reviews and had some consternation about visiting a strip club in such an out of the way place, many of the miners that I had interviewed with relation to the case raved about the place and the surprising caliber of dancers that worked there. My thirst, desire to celebrate, and a weakness for watching young ladies strip soon lured me to "The Satin Lady".
When I frequent the occasional strip club, I always check the number of cars in the parking lot and around the building. In this case there were more pickup trucks than cars, but my observation is intended to estimate how many dancers, staff and patrons might be inside. For instance, if you pull into a parking lot and there are very few vehicles, it likely means there will be few performers to choose from should a lap dance be in the cards.
I loosened my tie and checked my wallet for the necessary cash and walked to the entrance. I had noticed a number of vehicles outside and was pleased that several must have belonged to dancers as I could see through the dimly lit establishment two stages surrounded by patrons with a dancer on each and at least a half dozen other girls "visiting" tables throughout. The bar had several more guys being served by a scantily clad barmaid. From where I stood, the girls were aged from 21 to 35 and ranked from eight to ten. I was puzzled by the source of this workforce in such a rural area but had no reason to complain. I found my way to the stage and took a seat along "pervert row", and ordered a beer.
As I sipped on my first beer, I was soon joined by one of the younger performers. A cute blonde with adorable dimples on her smiling face asked if I'd like to buy her a drink. Knowing the tricks of the trade, I agreed to buy her a drink I knew to be overpriced and watered-down. We chatted for a bit while the dancers on stage worked through their two song performances going from sexy to topless and collecting dollar bills in their G-strings. When they both went totally nude, my attention was averted from my new friend as I sought to reward the young lady on my stage with a few dollars in return for her nakedness. I had never been to a totally nude strip club. I decided that my stiffening cock and I were going to stay a while.
I have a rule that I will not buy a lap dance from the first girl to approach me. Although I enjoyed visiting with the tiny blonde who I discovered was a college student studying nursing and working Fridays and Saturdays only at the club, I deferred when she asked if I'd like to join her for a dance in a secluded corner of the bar. She thanked me for the two drinks and moved on to another vacant seat at a nearby table. I could overhear her using the same rehearsed introduction. She was young but with veteran skills. I mentally wished her well.
Having turned down the young blonde, I may have become a marked man among the other dancers moving throughout the club. More guys were coming into the bar as evening turned into night so the dancers had more choices for their conquests. I enjoyed my beers and continued to reward the dancers on stage. These girls were beautiful and naked. The thoughts and demands of the recently concluded mediation were distant.
"Now appearing on Stage One, please welcome Star! And on Stage Two, Jasmine!" the DJ bellowed as my eyes rose up to greet Star, an athletic black girl with small tits and a bubble butt that swallowed the strings of her bikini. Appropriately dancing to the strains of "Legs" by ZZ Top, she lost her top early on and exposed brown puffy nipples to her audience. An audible groan came from along my fellow patrons in appreciation. As the dollars were delicately placed in the ties of her bikini, Star smiled and whirled around the pole on her stage. Bills continued to be tossed her way as she deftly untied the bikini and stepped away from the dollar bills falling like snowflakes and revealed her bald pussy and wet pink lips. It was obvious that she enjoyed this work. I could only imagine the line that would form in anticipation of having her gyrating on a lap in the seclusion of the back corner. My erection had reached its zenith. I reached for another bill as she lowered herself into a crouch before me. Star's dripping pussy was only inches away as she offered me a wet kiss before clinching the bill between her teeth.
I ordered another beer and calculated the remaining cash on hand. A hand drifted lightly across my shoulders as the young blonde from the evening's onset returned. As I glanced over my shoulder to see her, I was frozen by the image of Jasmine on Stage Two as the rhythmic beat of Michael Jackson's "Can't Stop Till You Get Enough" poured from the speakers. Star and Jasmine moved into the second of their two songs. At this point the sexual performance by Star was a distant memory and it was as if the tiny blonde didn't exist. I was mesmerized by Jasmine, a beautiful young lady I also knew as Jessica.
Yes, my paralegal was moonlighting as a stripper. As much as I wanted to move to pervert row along the edge of Stage Two to get a better look, I first had to determine how best to make my presence in the audience known to her, if at all. I grabbed the little blonde by the hand and pulled her to a nearby table and onto my lap. As she enjoyed the attention she thought she was getting, I could look over her shoulder and admire Jessica as she whirled and twirled on Stage Two and yet remain out of her line of sight.
"Blondie" who at some point in the evening I learned was known as "Sunny", asked if I'd like to move to a place more private. Embarrassed to turn her down a second time, I asked what the going rate for a lap dance might be. She replied that twenty dollars would secure a lap dance and that I could tip based upon how much I enjoyed it as she squeezed my cock. I peeled a fifty from my roll of cash and gave it to her as I simply said, "Not tonight, thank you."
She smiled, tucked the fifty in her top and moved to the guy sitting unattended next to me.
As Jessica danced with her back to the empty seat adjacent to Stage Two, I relocated and admired her bare hips as they moved to and fro. As the other dancers had, Jessica had dropped what remained of her clothing during this second tune and was dancing as naked as the day she was born. The song ended as she turned toward me and her eyes widened upon seeing me. I reached up and handed her a $100 bill, placing it in her hand. She turned and grabbed her clothes from the stage floor and scurried off the stage.
I will never forget the image before me. Jessica stands 5'11", and her long narrow face is framed by reddish brown hair that stops at the top of her neck. I estimated her breasts to be C cups and they stood proudly on her chest, slightly upturned and capped with rosy areolae the size of silver dollars and nipples the diameter of my little finger that protruded a half inch. I had admired these titties in the office, concealed by blouses and bras, but seeing them bare was beyond all expectation.
