Princess Point is parkland bordering Cootes Paradise, a large marshy area connecting Burlington Bay to the old town of Dundas.
Many years ago barges went from the bay to Dundas via the DesJardins canal, which was a narrow channel dredged to about a depth of about four foot and marked by a series of wooden post rising above the water marking each side.
During the week the park was usually desolated and I found it an ideal spot to do some sunbathing on my way to work.
I was working as an exotic dancer at "Solid Gold", a strip club a few miles down the road in suburban Aldershot.
Aldershot is a suburb of Burlington an affluent neighbor of Hamilton where I lived. The cliental of Solid Gold was primarily a white-collar crowd of younger successful businessman.
I was being paid a grand a week as a featured dancer and kept the money I made doing table dances and lap dances in the V.I.P. Lounge. It was not uncommon for me to exceed my salary in tax-free cash servicing the customer's requests.
Tanlines are undesirable in my line of work so I spent a lot of time in the tanning beds at Aggie's Tanning Salon getting an all over tan. If there was no one around when I was sunbathing at Princess Point I would slip off my bikini top and sometime both the top and bottoms. I could see anyone approaching from a distance and quickly cover up if necessary.
It was a warm afternoon and I did not start my shift for another four hours. I had brought a bottle of red wine along to sip while reading my book.
It was a Wednesday afternoon and not a soul in sight. My bikini was stuffed in my bag and the bottle of wine half gone. I must have dozed off naked in the warm rays of the sun.
I was awaken suddenly by the cold nose of a dog sniffing my bare thigh, a very large dog!
I opened my eyes to see the dog's owner standing over me looking down at my naked body. As I was lying on my back everything was on show.
Being a stripper my nudity did not overly embarrass me as hundreds of men had seen me naked.
It was a black man staring at my exposed cunt while his German Sheppard's nose explored the source of my musk.
"You never have seen a shaved pussy before?" I asked him defensively.
"Not one as pretty as yours." He smiled.
My worries were unnecessary as he introduced himself apologizing for intruding on my privacy.
Stan then chastised his dog whose nose was getting dangerously close to the source of the scent that was attracting him. I told him not to worry as I had experience with dogs and knew how they loved warm, wet holes.
Sensing I was not uncomfortable with his presence Stan went on to tell me he was a musician who did vocals and played guitar with a band doing gigs at the Galley Pump, a local Country and Western watering hole where the customers wore denim and cowboy boots and smoked Export "A"s.
Stan went on to tell me he had a brief career with the Ottawa Roughriders, a C.F.L. football team before he married "Effie" and settled down.
I told him that I was a dancer at Solid Gold and invited him to come out and see me perform sometime. We both agreed to try to catch each other's act.
I could tell Stan was hesitant to leave as I was now sitting with my knees up and somewhat spread apart so he had an excellent view of the pink interior of my partially open slit.
I went on telling my new acquaintance that I was engaged to be married to a auto mechanic in a couple of months who wanted me to quit dancing.
My fiancé Glen said he made enough money to support both of us comfortably and didn't like so many guys seeing me naked and lusting to fuck me.
Stan said he didn't blame him, if I were his girlfriend he would feel the same way.
I explained to Stan the money was just too good to give up. I told him I was not into drugs like many of the other girls were and I did not have sex with any of the customers.
I assured him they only got to look and maybe fondle my boobs if they paid for a lap dance and that was it. I didn't elaborate on how I sat on their boners with only the fabric of their trousers separating their cocks from entering heaven and gyrated my cookie on them smearing their pants with my juice.
We talked for about an hour and as I was loosing the sun and wanted to stop at Le Femme, a lingerie shop to pick up some items to add to my costumes before starting work I promised Stan I would drop in the Galley the following night as I was off work.
The Galley Pump was almost deserted when I entered about nine o'clock. There were about a dozen patrons scattered around the room. The Galley is located in a rough side of town and all eyes were on me as I entered, I was likely the classiest broad to enter the place in quite a while.
The band was between sets but Stan was at the bar and saw me come in and came to greet me. We found a vacant table in a corner and Stan went to get our drinks.
When I am not working I do not dress provocatively, I try to blend in with other females. I was wearing a red skirt with a black filigree blouse that did not reveal any excessive amount of flesh. I was likely dress a little better than the Pump's regular female customers and meeting up with a colored guy I imagine the others thought I was the typical blonde attracted to big, black cocks.
