Saturday night. Parking lot filled, cars parked on the grass, and on the lot adjoining. I walked into the strip club with its painted opaque windows. Anita is working tonight. She only works 2 nights a week, but always at least one weekend night, usually both. When the crowds of men are the largest.
Inside is loud music, some dancers. There is no seat at the bar available. I must stand. A beautiful, busty blond is shaking her goods on stage, there are actually three dancers right now. The other two moving about, marketing themselves, selling lap dances. I am quickly approached by an attractive barmaid, and soon have a glass of orange juice for only $2.50.
I love Anita. I met her at her day job at the shopping mall. We have seen a couple movies together. I have known her only four months, but I know I love her. I've met her mom and little brothers and sisters. Her mom likes me, gave me dinner once when I dropped by while Anita was out (before I knew about Anita's dancing). I know she is smart enough to handle college. I will pay her tuition myself.
I feel out of place in this club. The blond is giving me a boner with her serpentine dancing, but this place is just as I imagined it. Not the cleanest floors and walls I've seen. Evidently, only the mirrors placed to further expose the dancers receive any kind of cleaning attention. The building must be 70 years old, and was decrepit looking. Two men were talking beside me.
"Oh, you mean that sign? No, there was a police bust about 7 years ago, no more 'private dancing' sessions in the back."
"That's not true." A third interjected. "The black girl that works here, I forget her name. She's the only one who takes you for private dances, only 50 bucks too! She's been doing it over 3 years now." What? What is this? 3 years? That's impossible!
"Wait to you see this negro's tits! They look fake they are so big but I've squeezed them, they are real. And this bitch can suck a golf ball through a garden hose. Believe me! Only thing, don't wait for later in the night unless you like it messy, I bet she does thirty guys a night!!" This could not be my Anita. She does have a large chest as far as I can tell, but she is a sweet child. She could never do the things this guy was suggesting. Anita and I really really like each other, and just last week, we had kissed briefly for the first time.
I saw her. She was moving towards the stage, a short red satin robe draped around her. He chest pushing out the front of the satin. Her long legs were bare all the way up until they disappeared under the hem of the robe most of the way up her taut thigh. She was taller. I had never seen her in high heels. The five inch red pumps accentuated every clenching of her hard calf muscles. Her face was made up. She was breath taking. There were immediate shrill cat calls. She stopped before reaching the stage, a half dozen men wagging 50 dollar bills in front of her face.
I pushed my way towards her.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Anita was upset, speaking in a reprimanding voice.
"You said you would never go to a place like this, I should NEVER have told you I work here!!" Anita was angry and hostile, not because she was 'caught' or anything like that. But that I was bothering her by being here, I was a nuisance.
"Anita, I love you," I handed her the most important paper that will ever be in my life. With a look of distaste she unfolded it and read.
My Dear Anita your heart, your soul, are not for me just let me be near enough to see each day your beauty, your quiet smile make my life, my journey all worthwhile let me hold you from storms and cold protect you dreams until we grow old a lifetime's kindness, to be together my love for you will last forever without you dear, there is no life say to me you will be my wife -Tom
She looked at me like I was an embarrassing dog that won't go away.
"You just don't get it do you? I like to hang out with you sometimes, that's all."
"Anita come on, I'll take you home."
"Fuck no! What the hell does it take to get through to you?" Then she turned her attention back to the men around her. She picked out a very tall, very large black man with a pot belly. "You got 50 bucks mister? You want a private dance?"
He had not been one of those waving cash in front of her. He placed his hand on his back pocket and looked up a moment in thought. "I got about 20 bucks," he said in a rough voice. Anita had caught him by surprise, choosing him out of the crowd.
"That will be fine." Grabbed his hand, and led him to the back of the club. As she began moving she crooked a finger at me.
"Come see your baby, come and watch your sweetheart."
The back room was on the verge of collapse. The plaster had flaked near completely off the walls, baring gray concrete blocks and termite riddled wood. The floor had once been tiled, but the tiles were gone, come loose with age years ago. The hard floor was a filthy, tacky mess. It stunk of urine and feces back here. The lighting was three bare light bulbs hanging on separate steel cords from the ceiling. The light was harsh and bright. The roof had many holes, certainly the rain would pour in on a rainy night. There were no peeking Tom's up there, for there was no way the roof would support the weight of a person.
The small back room, the size of a bathroom really (and evidently often used as one), was furnished with two plain arm less wood chairs, and a sink blackened with age. A host of very large cockroaches congregated over most of the sink.
Anita pushed me into one chair, then coaxed the much taller and larger black man into the other. My poem she had already crumpled into a ball. Looking at me she tossed it into a deep pool of urine on the floor. The paper quickly soaked through, becoming spongy and yellow.
"Yo, what's with this guy watching?" The black man asked.
Anita undid the tie in front and pulled open her robe. She was wearing a lacy red bra and matching G-string underwear. "Would you rather leave?" she replied. Her oversized dark orbs bulged from the sexy bra. Her thin washboard belly receded inwards underneath her ribcage, diving down to her tight hips. So shapely and slender was her lower abdomen that the panty straps circling her hips actually lost touch with her young soft skin briefly just inside her hip bones before regaining contact nearer her vagina.
"Fuck no. Hell, make a video if you want!"
"Anita, you don't have to do this thing. I want you to marry me. We won't be rich but we'll be okay with money."
"Shut Up."
"Yeah Shut Up Man! The girl is Working!"
Anita moved back and forth in her high heels. Stepping between crawling cockroaches (large enough to possibly trip her over if she stepped into one) and small piles of refuse. Under the glare of the overhanging bulbs, Anita dropped the robe from her body. She tossed it into the corner with the least crud and garbage, though roaches could immediately be seen to be moving around beneath it. The ebon beauty began a seductive striptease dance. Swaying. Rubbing her hands across her firm tummy, then along her hips. Then bending forward to run her hands along the outside and then inside of her thighs. Bending towards her John, letting her breasts hang forward like ripe melons on a tree.
She licked her lips. Standing back upright, she brought her hands up to massage and squeeze her tits through her lacy bra. Pushing them up, her tongue snaked out. Further and further her moist tongue protruded, incredibly long! Then she began wetly swabbing the tops of her tit flesh. Licking herself.
I was hard in my Docker's khakis. The other dude was tenting his super wide extra extra sized jeans.
Anita reached behind and unclasped her bra, keeping it in place by holding her arms to her sides. She leaned over her seated customer. The bra was losing ground no matter how tightly she kept her biceps against her ribcage. The mammoth black chest pushing to freedom. She moved her bosom down toward the large negro's face, opening her mouth in indication for him to do the same. She then placed her front bra strap into his mouth and closed her mouth and he closed his. With a smile she slowly pulled up, so that his clenched teeth slowly pulled the bra off of her. Her twin black mammaries rose like two soft, smooth volleyballs. Then the bra fell to the ground
The black man wrapped sinewy arms around her, pulling her chest to his hungry mouth. Anita let out a surprised laugh. Every John would do different things. When he began to painfully bite her tit flesh, cruelly twisting her nipples in his teeth, she instantly wondered if the manager would keep his promise to help her if she cried out. The more she thought of all the times she overheard him make racist remarks about her when he thought she was not around, the more certain she was that she could be tortured and dismembered back here and he would never pay any mind. He wouldn't even clean up, probably sell tickets to see the 'massacred negro girl'.
Anita repeatedly gasped, and bit back on her cries of pain. Enough of her anguish escaped her lips to bring a smile to her assailant. She looked over at the short white man, who was what, 30, 31 years old? This negro would kick his ass into yesterday in a second. She would have to ride this one out. Tears soon fell from her eyes, again bringing a smile to him. Five minutes of tit torture (which seemed like an eternity) that would leave purple bite marks and bruises over much of her tit flesh, and it was over. Anita's chewed up nipples were swollen to twice the size that they had ever been.
Anita staggered a step back, trying to regain her composure. She moaned as she rubbed her pain wracked breasts. Putting on another great sexy show. Her squeezing fingers pressing dimples into the firm hard chest. I assumed this was all part of the regular act. I was still determined to prevent Anita from having sex with this guy. I wasn't really sure sex was part of the 'back room' treatment, and I certainly didn't believe that Anita would ever consider sex in a setting like this, and definitely not for money.
"Okay buddy, did you enjoy the show? Anita can we go somewhere and talk?"
