Sharon Goes Bac to School

Chapter 16: Who Says What Happens in Vegas...

Sharon rolled to her left... or tried to roll; the heavy blanket kept her from moving very much. She smiled, enjoying the warm bed, and the full, heavy pillow. She settled back, reveling in that semi-lucid lucky time when you can control your dreams, if only for a moment. What was it that Lisa had called it... becoming one with the blankets.

The sleepy housewife giggled at that memory, from the last time she had been able to sleep in, after enjoying a prolonged lesbian threesome with Kelly and the shapely blonde ZB Sister who had started working with them at Go's. It had started their first day back after the eventful Christmas vacation.

They had not been back a day from Christmas break when Dave had sauntered in during the first of 'Fallen Angels' practice sessions before the lunch crowd began to trickle in. He had a pretty, still shy younger woman in tow. The pair had paused to watch Sharon and Kelly before visiting with Go. Sharon had been sure she could hear her fellow ZB Bitch's cries of pleasure before they came out and Go had explained that they wanted to add Lisa to she and Kelly's duo. Kelly had immediately pointed out that they were doing pretty well as a pair. Dave had answered that there weren't many trios working that he knew of. And Go had agreed, adding that having three women would allow them all more 'flexibility.' Sharon had wondered what that meant, but the men's tone had left no doubt the ladies were not being asked for their opinions or given a vote.

So Lisa had started to work with them. Fortunately, though shy, she was a ZB Bitch; she had done enough dancing someplace that she fit in faster than Sharon or Kelly had expected. And the men had been right... Having a girl on each pole with a third working the rail, not to mention having all three pawing at one another had really driven the men wild; they had made Friday night money on Monday night when they did their first set as a trio. Even though Lisa was still obviously less experienced, there had been no complaints; only the dancers seemed to know that their routines had not been perfect.

Having the extra body had also made Sharon's shifts in the champagne room a little less frantic. Go's decision had been that she and Kelly would do a set, she and Lisa did a set, and Kelly and Lisa did a set, as well as one or two sets of all three working it for the crowd.

As she was cleaning up after 'entertaining' her fifth fan of the night on Tuesday night, Sharon had begun to agree with something she had heard Go say to Dave earlier that night when the men had not known she was nearby: she might need to go back on the testosterone cream. Dave had snorted, asking if Go had enjoyed having her being one cross word from hulking out into a raging bitch, and the big club owner had chuckled, assuring Dave that he had seen bigger prima donnas with less upside.

Go had continued, telling Dave the more dominant 'Sharon on T' had been a better draw than the 'new year's Sharon' on stage. They had moved out of her hearing at that point, but Sharon wished Dave would listen to Go. She wanted it, though, for a different reason; the trapped white housewife had been more able to dominate the men who were enjoying her when she had been using the cream. That meant they had gotten off faster, and she had spent less time with her legs spread, cheating on Chris. Not to mention that she had orgasmed like a wild woman fucking on the cream.

Such thoughts brought a ready flush of pleasure between Sharon's legs, and she absently fingered herself, or thought she did, anyway... maybe she was just masturbating in her dreams, she thought with a broader smile. It was a good thing she was so easily excited, she knew...

From the morning of their first day back, the third day of the new year, Sharon's life had been a blur. Before Dave's appearance the first morning at practice, Go had angrily pushed them, complaining that clearly they had not been 'working on shit' while they were 'visiting home.' He had insisted they do a set at lunch, and she and Kelly had each done a solo set, which of course had turned into time in the blue room.

Sharon had been surprised that the first 'guest' had not been her usual admirer at all, but a foreigner with white skin so tanned it looked like leather. The man had been so gaunt Sharon had wondered if he had cancer or something, but he had been anything but frail. She had gasped in real surprise, impressed at the size of his cock, and at the fervor he had shown in using it, pounding into her on the cushion in missionary position until she had cum twice and had asked him in a panting breath if he wanted to try a different position, mostly so she could get a break. He had shrugged, backing out, and Sharon had used the opportunity to roll onto her stomach. The stranger with the clipped guttural accent had taken his cue, spearing into her from behind, fucking her doggy style to his climax a few minutes later.

By then she had remembered where she had heard the accent... several of the men visiting her apartment before Christmas break had spoken that way. What had one called it? Afrikaners. The skinny man had buttoned his pants-- clearly not American clothing-- and she had thanked him reflexively, trying to ignore the protest in muscles and joints as she had stood to escort him out of the room.

That's when he had asked her if he wasn't better than her kaffirs. Puzzled, Sharon had assured him he was great. It had not been what he wanted to hear, she could tell, the way his brows had moved close. That suddenly, though, Raoul had been beside them, asking the man if he was trying to make trouble. Smiling blandly, the man had held a hand up as a dismissive answer to Raoul's question. Sharon was struggling to understand what had happened, including why the strange man had kept the condom he had been using. The gaunt older man had removed a battered wallet, stripping from a thick wad of foreign currency two bills before reaching into his pocket and adding a shiny gold coin, which he had set on Sharon's dress where it had come to rest on the cushion sometime before. He had winked at the puzzled housewife, then let the big bouncer guide him out of the mostly empty champagne room.

Sharon had picked up the notes, red and orange paper much different than American dollars, the orange marked 200 with a Jaguar on one side and a familiar black face on the other, the red bill marked 50 with a lion on one side and with the same figure on the other. There were words at the edges of the bills, but in the dim light of the champagne room she had not been able to read them. The coin was heavy for it's size, with an antelope of some sort on one side.

She had shrugged into her dress and padded to the changing room, but had only had time to put the strange money in her purse before Geoff had been in the doorway, calling her name and motioning for her to join him. It had been less of a surprise when her second 'guest' was an almost carbon copy of the first man. He had been less endowed, but had been more intent on pleasuring her, which was not the usual practice for men spending time with her at Go's. Sharon had climaxed repeatedly before he had stiffened, filling his condom as she rode him cowgirl style on the broad cushions.

He had also been more profuse in his thanks, though the words had sounded odd with his clipped accent. Like the man Sharon had assumed was his friend, this admirer had kept his condom. Sharon had hugged his arm, leading him out and had thanked him honestly for being such an attentive lover. The man had blushed, obviously pleased at the compliment, and his flustered response had delighted Sharon, the mood broken only when he had paused at the exit, slipping her a single shiny gold coin. It had looked nearly identical to Sharon in the dim light, but was larger and was noticeably heavier. It had been a truly busy night for the by then dragging housewife. She had serviced ten men between her sets. Two had been 'regulars' she had come to enjoy fucking for knowing how to get them off and how to get them to tip her well. One had been a new soldier who had panted to her afterwards that his buddy had insisted he should wait and save his money to enjoy her, adding that she had been worth every penny. While wondering just how much she had cost the men, Sharon had hugged him, thanking him for making is so special for her, too. It always amazed her how much the men wanted to hear that... how easily they believed she meant it. And that because they believed her that they would be back to use her again.

The other five had been like the first pair... that clipped foreign accent. Sadly, all but the second seemed intent only on getting off with her by fucking into her as hard and fast as they could. And all had seemed to have some need to have her assure them they were better than the men who were usually between her legs. She had collected tips in the form of the unusual bills like the first, including another 200, two 100's, which were green with a bull or a buffalo of some sort on them, and three more 50's. And she had been gifted by each with another of the strange gold coins, three of the four the smaller coin, barely larger than a nickel. Go had personally shooed her out of the club at 2:30, warning her not to fall asleep yet, his not so subtle way of alerting Sharon that she would be servicing still more men.

Sharon had not had time to consider the men's gifts, much less eat, because a lanky middle aged man with dyed black hair had followed her up the walk when she parked out front of her condo. He had been polite but insistent, and Sharon had not had to ask how he had learned about her, given that almost sexy clipped accent. He had elected to take her leaning over the back of the sofa in the front room as they watched a tape of her 'performance' during the award show from before Christmas break. It had been on a commercial grade disc that he had brought, asking her to sign it and then pose-- naked, after they had completed the act-- while holding for a photo with his cell phone.

He had been squarely in the 'average' equipment department, and while he had not been overly imaginative or intent on her pleasure he had slipped a callused hand around her hip, teasing her clit as he had fucked into her, which had been enough for Sharon to get off a minute or two before he had finished. He had declined the bathroom, buttoning up and then leaving after setting the increasingly familiar small gold colored coin and two of the 50 bills on the end table and thanking her for letting him 'enjoy himself.' so thoroughly.

She had 'entertained' four additional guests without real pause, once meeting her next suitor as she saw the last out, skin still slick with the heat of their coupling. Instead of being upset, the new man had simply nodded at the other, as if they had met that way before. Panting, wondering if she was done, after closing the door behind the fifth foreigner, Sharon had groaned upon seeing that it was nearly 5AM on Tuesday morning.

She had cleaned up and fixed a cup of easy Mac cheese and pasta, washing it down with a mimosa she had made from the orange juice and champagne 'pop' bottles that were nearly the only things in her fridge except for beer. Glancing out the window at the lightening sky, she had seen the early risers jogging along the tree lined street between her small place and the campus. Aware that she would soon be working again, Sharon had collapsed on the sofa after setting both the alarm clock by the bed and the alarm on her phone just in case. The phone was back in the front room, and after she had sat down, getting up to stagger back to the bed had been just too big an effort to attempt.

She had jerked awake at the blaring of both alarms just before nine on Tuesday morning. Sitting up, she had glanced out the open front window, absently wondering if that had been open the entire time she had been 'entertaining' the night before, Sharon saw several of the other people that she knew lived in the complex were headed toward the campus, backpacks slung over their shoulders.

Gasping in anxiety, Sharon grabbed the phone, calling the frat in a panic... She knew she had not enrolled, and it seemed as if classes had resumed, even though a little voice at the back of her head was chiding her that the new semester did not start until the twenty first. The voice on the other end had laughed, assuring her she had 'been taken care of,' and adding that he was looking forward to seeing her at the back to school party when school had started. The innuendo in his voice had been enough to spark arousal despite the aches pervading the housewife's body after the extended performances she had put on the night before.

Tuesday had been a repetition of the day before... the girls spent the day at the club working on, then practicing 'live' their routines. Sharon had spent more time in the champagne room, servicing the seemingly unending string of foreigners and the odd regular guest through lunch and without pause until their first group set at eight that evening. That night she had serviced four regulars and three new local 'fans' before the end of her shift, as well as putting out for another six of her 'overseas admirers' as one of the other dancers termed them. Her purse had been noticeably heaver as she finally dragged herself out to the car after 3AM on Wednesday morning.

She had found a stack of books on her table when she went inside, never wondering how the ZB members had gotten them there. There had been a print out of her schedule, as well as the breakdown showing what class on what day. Before she could pore through the schedule, though, there had been a knock on the door.

The exhausted white housewife had been kept busy for another two hours servicing four additional 'fans' Go or Dave had sent to her condo. After the last, an older almost skeletal man, had left-- the requisite coin shining where it had landed on the carpet after he had casually flipped it at her from the open door-- Sharon had paused to scoop it up, resolving to learn about the coins the next day... or later that day, she scolded herself, blinking in diminishing interest and focus at the books and paperwork on the table. She had stared at the shiny coin in her hand, then at the door, reminding herself to lock up. She had blinked, aware she had been standing for some time without doing anything... and that she was supposed to be doing something... shower? Eat? Sleep. She had forgotten about the door as she staggered into her bedroom and flopped onto the tousled sheets, wondering how she had ever been able to handle so many men in twenty four hours... or for that matter, in a single night.

Lisa and Kelly had noticed Sharon was dragging during practice on Wednesday. The young blonde had offered Sharon a packet of Spark, laughing when Sharon had insisted she did not want any drugs. Both girls had explained it was like those five hour energy shots that the guys were taking. And Sharon had admitted to herself that it had kept her going through their practice that morning, after which the... activity that was continuing at an unheard of pace had been more than enough to keep her up and running.

Wednesday night, though, Dave had been in Go's office when Sharon had arrived after their second set, responding to one of the new dancers saying 'see the boss,' when the new trio got back stage. There had been a young woman and an older man with them. Sharon had blinked in surprise when Dave had told her that the woman needed to collect some blood from the blonde housewife. Sharon had been horrified, wondering what was wrong, and how she had been exposed, since Shaun and Dave had assured her the frat was careful about that. Even so, she had been distracted by Go, whose glower had held her attention where the big club owner was sitting in his overstuffed desk chair. She had tried to get them to explain what was happening, but at a look from Dave, Sharon had settled into the corner seat of the sofa, letting the mousy woman position her arm. She had looked too young to be a nurse, Sharon had thought idly, but the young woman had been skilled; Sharon had barely felt the needle slip in. For a moment she had wondered if they might have something they could give her to help her make it through the night, but had quickly pushed such thoughts away; she was not going to become some junkie.

"This really fucks up my business," Go had growled when the woman was done, having handed Sharon a cotton ball that she was to hold with her elbow bent for five minutes.

"You should've cleared it with Shaun and I first," Dave had answered without any sympathy for the older man.

"I told you," Go had countered, "I didn't advertise... The damn Afrikaners just started showing up... I had guys asking for our pet housewife before Christmas... some weren't very happy to find she was on vacation," he arched an eyebrow and glared at Dave, who rolled his eyes. "And they won't be happy that they don't get a taste."

"Seriously?" Dave snorted, "Let them enjoy any of our other girls... They'll never get better trim."

"What can I say, sex tourism is all the rage there and in Australia," Go shrugged, "And You started it, when you put her on television."

"They should have made sure she would be here before they bought their tickets," Dave answered, "Tell them to come back, or stay a week, or offer her partner..." Sharon had wondered if Dave meant Kelly or Lisa. "Hell, send them West," Dave continued mysteriously. Go snorted, and Dave laughed, "I'll make sure that you get a finder's fee."

"Fuck you, Dave," Go's voice had been dangerously quiet, "I'm not pimpin' for anyone else."

"Sure you are," Dave laughed again, "The minute you started using ZB merchandise you were pimping for us." Sharon had not stayed to listen to more, not wanting to have either of the obviously angry men take their anger out on her. Even though she had come to terms with what she was, the idea that Go saw himself as her pimp... she had shuddered, in part because despite her unease at hearing her reality discussed so frankly, her body had responded to the big man's presence and the memory of what Go could do to her, which had been more powerful than her shame at being made to fuck strangers for the big club owner's profit.

She had been puzzled when the bouncer at the pass from the back stage to the main room refused to let her out to work the customers but had also denied that she had an appointment in the champagne room. Instead, he had told her to just sit in the dressing room until her next set. It had proven harder than she expected. She had tried distracting herself by watching the various camera feeds, but that had quickly proved more arousing than distracting, and she did not want the other girls to find her masturbating in the dressing room. She had also quickly tired of deflecting questions from the other dances... what was wrong with her, was she all right, had something happened... She had no answers, and worse, it seemed like some of the other dancers were angry that she was not helping on the floor.

So she had retraced her steps to Go's office, knocking after a long pause, during which she had twice started to leave. The electric lock on the door had clicked, and she had stepped into Go's office, suddenly feeling very shy.

"That was amusing," the club owner had leered at her, "I was thinking you were going to chicken out." Sharon had frowned, puzzled, until Go pointed at his screen, "I was watching you standing in the hall. She had relaxed and smiled sheepishly. He cocked his head, asking, "What's going on?" He had leaned back, obviously relaxed, in his element. For a moment Sharon had wondered if there was a dancer under the table with his big cock in her mouth, and a fierce pang of arousal mixed with jealousy had swept through her.