It was almost six p.m. shift change at the small local bar that has been my hangout for many years. I seem to only get there on Sunday evenings now. I shoot pool with friends, look at the strippers and stock up on fantasies for the coming week. One lovely, married dancer named Britney was responsible for a large share of them. She always worked Sunday evenings. Her life has been in turmoil for most of the last year. Every few times I see her I help her relax and get her off with my hands in the private corner. She is thirty-five, horny and her husband isn't taking care of business. Britney does have a female friend who does. I have often kidded her that she should bring in her mother or grandmother, to meet me.
Each of the three night shift strippers came in with their entourage. Two had some guy carrying their suitcase of "fuck me" high heels, easy off dresses, IPOD music, make-up and vanilla scented fragrances. Britney was escorted by someone new, an older woman β older in terms of the youthful bar attendees. The new face was pretty, her body toned, she was not at ease in the loud strip bar and yet, she obviously was there because Britney had asked her to come.
Britney ducked into the dressing room for a few minutes and then emerged, hair still wet from an earlier shower, no make-up yet and still in street clothes β jeans, sandals and blouse. The fantasy was not yet donned, she looked like anyone you would casually meet at the mall. She took a few moments to bring her escort over to me. I knew she had to rush off to get into character and get into the mood to entice dollars out of drunken men.
"Tony, this is Lynn. She is my aunt. I've told you about her and her about you."
I could not remember, ever hearing about Britney's aunt. Still the promise of talking with a beautiful woman for a while was intriguing. Would she see me as an old man, unworthy of her time? Would she be looking for someone to make her life financially easier? Would she truly want to talk to me and see where reality would take us?
"Lynn, this is my pleasure. Britney has mentioned that she has beautiful relatives but I caulked that up to bar bragging. I did not realize she was telling the truth."
Aunt Lynn and I sat together for Britney's six hour shift. Lynn did not know which of my questions to answer, what to say or how to banter with me. After three hours of off and on pool playing and pressing to have a good time, she commented, "You drink a lot of beer."
I pushed my glass of dark liquid with a foamy head on it in front of her, "Try a little and tell me what you think."
She sipped, "That is awful and bitter."
"Yes it is. They call it Odoul's non-alcoholic beer. I have Bret put it in a glass so it looks like I drink real beer like all the big boys."
Lynn had tried to get a rise out of me by the "lot of beer" comment. Now she was embarrassed. "Why did you kid Britney about bringing in her mother or grandmother?"
"Britney and I are "in the bar friends."" She's told me about her porn star hung husband and then she has danced for me. She has asked me how old I am and then she has danced for me. Her body entices me but it is more her friendship that I seek. I have thought, how wonderful it would be, if there were a more mature version that I could meet, go places with and be silly with."
"Is that what I am a "more mature" version of Britney?"
It was time to see if she would play or if she was really as stiff as her verbal banter would indicate. "You look even more enticing, but already you have a strike against you and you have me wondering."
"What do you mean?"
"Strike for wearing panties; I can see the line under your slacks when you move. And you make me wonder if you taste as good as she does. I think you would be wilder, less inhibited and wetter; I would like that. My imagination gets me into a lot of trouble and gives me a lot of pleasure."
Her face flushed and she diverted her eyes from mine. "Britney warned me about you. I read the story you wrote for her and some of the others you have on the internet."
"Did you enjoy them?"
"Some were disturbing."
"The others? Did some of them excite you and make your pussy wet and horny?"
She turned away from me. I had gone too far too fast. I usually did.
About ten, Britney pushed me away from the pool table. Her aunt was watching.
"Tony, I need to make some money tonight. Can I dance for you?"
"You have never asked that way. Of course you can dance for me. You always do on Sunday night. What is so different about tonight?"
"Doug has been laid off and all the bills are coming due. He is getting unemployment but is spending his money on stuff. We need to make rent and pay for Heather getting started into the second grade."
"How much do you need?"
"A thousand."
"You usually dance for me and I give you a hundred to touch you and taste you. For a thousand you would have to dance for me at my house and do more."
"Like what?"
"Like bring your aunt and dance for both of us. Let us both touch you and taste you."
"I could never dance for Lynn or let her touch me."
"That was just me dreaming. Forget what I said. Dance for me like you always do."
Britney danced for me but was preoccupied. Even her usually soaking cunt was not very wet. I cut her off at three dances at $20 per dance but still paid her the usual hundred.
"When you are more with me, pay me the other dances. I'm sorry that things are not going well. Have Doug call me, maybe I can find a way for him to make more."
"He doesn't really want to work right now. He is being a couch potato and not looking for a job. He doesn't seem to understand that the bills keep coming in."
I did not respond. Lynn caught me on the way out of the private cubical. "Was Britney as good as usual?"
"Has she talked to you about her dancing for me?"
"No, I'm just curious, especially after reading your stories and having her bring me tonight to meet you."
"Lynn, I'm older than you. I think, I'm a lot more sexually playful than you. I would love to kid with you. Your body is enticing and your pheromones have captured me. Still females always do the choosing. I can tell you that I am interested but if you don't return my interest, I have to back away. I'm a big boy, I can take rejection."
"It's not rejection. I'm uncomfortable here."