Daisy
I was in a strip club. I was raised Christian, had eight years of CCD, went to an all-girls Catholic high school and a Jesuit college But I also loved anal sex, had a few threesomes and now I was standing in my first strip club. There was no glitter. This was a relief.
My boyfriend stood next to me. This was his first time in a place like this too and he was nervous, much as he denied it. He took three long hits of his vape outside before we stepped inside and showed ID. I was a little worried I wouldn't get in. I'm in my late twenties but I look like I'm in my teens (DD cups aside). There was no problem though. The benevolent bouncer smiled at us then let us right in. We went over to the bar which surrounded a stage on which a girl was dancing. We ordered drinks- a Captain and coke for him, a Red Bull for me (sober six years). We sat back and watched the girls.
Each girl was different. They wore different lingerie (which inevitably ended up coming off), they let their asses jiggle in different ways, their tits were different sizes (were they all real? I couldn't tell. None of them looked bigger than mine. Not that I was comparing. I made a promise to myself I wouldn't compare. If you go to these things, you can't compare). Some of them had amazing upper body and thigh strength, climbing the pole in high heel stilettos, hanging upside down from their knees.
"You should take pole dancing lessons," my boyfriend told me.
"Yeah? Who's going to pay for them?" I asked. He didn't answer that one.
"Hey, how's it going?" I turned. A very pretty girl with glasses (hey! I wear glasses! So much for not comparing) wearing a thin, almost sheer robe and red lingerie was propped up against my chair smiling at me. I almost choked on my Red Bull. I am bisexual (that is why I brought my boyfriend here. Or rather made him bring me here) and pretty girls make me very nervous. We made conversation, the whole time I felt myself stammering and perspiring. She introduced herself as Daisy.
"You should get a lap dance. You're kind of obligated if it's your first time here," she said.
"How much is a lap dance?" I asked, nervously. I was hoping for $10. A starving artist could swing that.
"$30," Yikes, that would wipe me out for the week.
"Oh, it's my turn," I hadn't realized she would be performing. And she was amazing. Swinging around the pole like some kind of master. Thrusting against the floor. My boyfriend couldn't take his eyes off her and I thought it was so hot.
After each performance, the dancers went around the room collecting tips from the bar. I usually just handed a few bills to the dancer (slowly going broke in the process) but this time Daisy insisted I stuff it between her tits (which I would hazard a guess were between a B and a C. They were nice and pert).
A man hailed Daisy down on the couches and she began to give him a lap dance. I was really wanting one myself but unsure how to broach the topic with my significant other.
"Baby, if I give $25 could you give Daisy $5 and we could get a joint lap dance?" I asked him, batting my big brown eyes.
