I've never told anyone my secret. I thought I would take it to my grave but I'm divorced now and I have no more reason to hide it.
I was a 20 year old college freshman when my grandfather died suddenly. I'd taken a year off of school after my high school graduation to figure out what I wanted to do, career wise, and then I'd gone away to a state school to get a business degree. I stayed in state because of my boyfriend, who later became my husband and we dated consistently until we were married when we were both 25.
My grandparents were paying for my college because neither I nor my mother could afford it but when Grandpa George died my grandmother pulled my funding because she was concerned about her finances.
It was a double hit since I'd always been very close with my grandfather but I buckled down and tried to find a way to pay for school. I got a job as a night auditor of a hotel over the summer and tried working there and going to school but one semester in money was already tight. I was barely making ends meet and I was beyond stressed. That's when I saw an add for dancers at a somewhat local strip club. I'd always been something of an exhibitionists and I had a pretty good body but I wasn't sure it was stripper quality. When I called the number the manager asked me to come down for an in person tryout.
The club about 30 minutes from college and actually across a state line, which I felt was good since it would make it less likely that I'd run into anyone I knew from my classes. So, I climbed into my 12 year old Toyota and drove into Rhode Island to the audition to be a stripper.
I was dressed casually, in tight faded jeans and a tight tee shirt that I loved because it made my C cup tits pop. I was a petite 110 pounds at the time with a not quite flat stomach but a nice tight bubble butt that I hoped would appeal to their clientele. The club was geared towards black customers and I really hoped that I had the look they wanted because I was down to my last $150 and rent was due soon.
The manager, Paul, was a dark skinned black man with a thick Caribbean accent. He was tall and skinny with a shaved head, dark eyes and large, pink lips. He seemed a bit creepy at first, but that was to be expected given his career choice. Thankfully, after a few minutes of answering questions he seemed fairly normal and I was able to relax. He told me that kids from my college rarely went there and most of their customers were blue collar workers from the nearby factories.
Paul then told me that I might have to start out as a cocktail waitress since I had no dancing experience but if I impressed him with my moves he would give me a shot on the floor. He had me strip down to my panties only, since it was a topless but not bottomless club and told me to "show me what you've got."
My heart was racing and my hands were shaking as I unfastened my jeans and wiggled them past my hips. I was glad I'd worn a sexy black thong and a matching black lace bra, and Paul smiled when I lifted my shirt off and he could see that my tits were spilling from my bra. I could thank my grandmother for that because the big boob gene had skipped both my mother and my sister.
Paul turned on some music and locked his office door. Then he sat down on the sofa against the back wall of his office and nodded at me to begin. I began to sway and move my hips while I looked into his dark onyx eyes. I was slightly self conscious of my soft tummy but his eyes moved from mine to my tits and I soon forgot my concerns and did what came surprisingly naturally.
My hands moved down my pale breasts and my nipples stiffened as my excitement built. I felt the beat of the music in my chest and I moved closer until my legs made contact with his. Then, just as the beat shifted, I dropped to my knees and looked up at him with a wry grin. My hands moved of their own volition to his knees and slowly slid up his thighs as I continued to hold his gaze. The stopped just above mid-thigh and I moaned softly. My long sandy brown hair cascaded over my shoulders and I tilted my head forward letting it cover my face as I pretended to lick his crotch. I raked my fingernails down his inner thigh and then stood up as I looked at him with a soulful stare. I was doing my best to overcome his concern about my inexperience and possibly my layer of baby fat. I turned away from him and bent at the waist with my ass just a foot or so from his face. I looked at him from between my legs and then pressed my finger against the slit between my engorged labia. I could feel the wetness of my panties and I realized how excited I was to be dancing in front of an almost complete stranger. My cheeks were warm and flushed and my breathing was deep and steady. I felt almost hypnotic and focused totally on him.
I watched Paul adjust his cock and I grinned wickedly, knowing that I was exciting him. The song was almost over and I turned back to face him. I moved my hands up my alabaster body, cupped my heavy, natural breasts and pinched my protruding nipples, while looking into his eyes as the song ended.
"Do you want another song?" I smiled as I toyed with my hair and lightly bit my lip. I wanted him to think that I was totally into him and he nodded. I wasn't really attracted to him at all. I loved my boyfriend and I had never been unfaithful though I'd had many opportunities at school.
"One more," he said as his hand moved up his leg and my eyes followed it. He grabbed his clearly hard cock through his jeans and I grinned. He had what looked like a nice big dick and while I hadn't planned on cheating on my boyfriend if it meant I got the job I would do what was necessary. I was desperate and a cocktail waitress job wouldn't cut it.
The song started and I immediately sank to the floor between his splayed thighs. I moved close, letting my bare tits brush against his legs, then I slowly bounced as if I was riding a cock while I looked into his eyes to gauge his reaction.
Paul smiled brightly and I slowly dragged my hands up his legs. He nodded as I approached his hard dick and I grinned as I ran my hand over it. He felt much bigger than my boyfriend back home in northwestern Massachusetts. Truth be told I'd slept with less than a handful of boys at that point and he felt bigger than all of them. I wasn't actually into him but I did want to see his big black cock. I'd grown up sheltered in a small homogeneous town in western MA on the border of Vermont and I'd never dreamed of messing around with a black guy, much less one who was likely 15 years older than me.
My heard was pounding and I slowly stroked his cock through his pants. The music had faded from my consciousness and my focus was on him. My eyes were affixed with Paul's and my mouth was agape. I wasn't sure how far he wanted me to go nor was I even sure what I was willing to do but while I rubbed his dick with one hand my other moved to the button and zipper of his pants. Paul nodded and I used both hands to open his fly.
"Are you sure?" He asked and I nodded. I hooked my fingers into the waist band of his jeans and Paul lifted his ass off the sofa. He wasn't wearing any underwear and I gasped when his cock popped into view. It was huge, and thick with a pink tip that was the same color as his lips. He smelled much different than the guys I'd been with but I reacted viscerally to his scent. My mouth began to water and as I drew his aroma into my lungs my legs tensed and a surge of moisture flooded my young 20 year old pussy.
I grabbed his shaft with both hands and aimed it at my mouth. My lips stretched thin around his thick, bulbous head and I stroked his shaft as my head bobbed. I took him deeper with each stoke as my smallish mouth adjusted to accommodate him. I felt it touching the back of my throat and I sucked hard, making my cheeks bow inward as I gazed up, into his eyes.
