"I'll take a deluxe bacon cheeseburger with fries and a double Stoli martini on the rocks."
The corner of my mouth curled in a smile as I listened to Jack's order. Some things never change. I turned to the waitress.
"I'll have the Chef's Salad, please, and a sparkling water with lime," I said.
Jack leveled his gaze at me and smirked.
"I don't know about your generation, son. Your father never would have ordered rabbit food and water for lunch. What's the world coming to?"
My yearly lunch with Jack always started this way: bemoaning the good old days. Our family printing business had been buying paper from Jack for several decades now and he insisted on taking me out to lunch once a year, as he had done with my now-deceased father for years. He was usually sloshed by the time our lunch ended, but he was always good for some juicy gossip.
His territory was all of New England so he had a pretty good feel for what was going on in the region and never ceased to amuse me with the his tales from the road. He was well into his second martini when he imparted some information that certainly set my course for the following week.
"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Remember that young lady, Amber, that worked for you several summers ago? That cute one with the incredible ass?"
Yes, I certainly remembered Amber. She had only worked for one summer before going off to college. She was a gorgeous young lady and had turned quite a few heads that summer, including mine.
"Of course I remember her. She went off to URI and I haven't heard from her since. Why do you ask?"
Jack leaned in as he always did when he had a juicy tidbit to impart.
"Well I saw her last week in a strip club in downtown Providence. She didn't remember me, but I never forget an ass. She goes by the name of Angel and she gave me one of the most incredible lap dances I've ever had. And I've had a few."
At close to 250 pounds it was hard to believe a stripper would even be able to find Jack's lap, but I had no doubt his voracious appetite for life included sex. I was intrigued by this information, however, and wanted to learn more without looking overly interested. I didn't have to worry. The alcohol had Jack's tongue flapping and he continued on his diatribe.
"Ronnie, that girl has the most incredible body and face, but her ass, holy shit, her ass is perfection. She's still in school and stripping to pay tuition. Thankfully, for schmoes like me, she needs dough. I think I paid for a couple expensive textbooks the other night. "
"Where'd you see her?" I asked innocently.
"Pharaoh's Lounge. Great club downtown. Good food, very sexy dancers, and a VIP lounge where the girls get pretty frisky. Jesus, to touch that sweet ass was like heaven, I'm telling you. I used to check her out that summer she worked for you. What a treat to find her there. I gotta get back to Rhode Island again soon."
He looked off wistfully as he took a huge swig, finishing off his second martini in one huge gulp. I might have to find an excuse to visit Providence myself, I thought, but I didn't share that information with Jack. His mouth was much too big.
Amber. We hire summer kids every year to help us run errands and do odd jobs. I knew her parents casually and her father had inquired one spring as to whether his daughter might be able to earn some money that summer for her impending first year of college. I knew the answer to that question as soon as she walked through the door for the interview.
Amber was eighteen at the time, but had the demeanor of a young lady that wasn't too innocent. She had one of those body types I love: slender, but curvy; the curves coming from her bone structure as opposed to body tissue. Her heritage was Mexican Indian and German, which gave her an exotic look with smooth brown skin and dark expressive eyes.
She had an amazing body and she knew it. Her breasts weren't large, but were beautifully proportioned to her slender body. Her graceful neck, slender arms and long lean legs all added up to an incredible package for a young lady just finishing high school.
But it was her ass that was the crowning touch. I wouldn't be exaggerating to say that Amber had a perfect ass. And her ass in motion, walking across a room say, was a sight to behold. She loved to wear tight jeans to show off her butt and she knew how good she looked in them.
Now I love women. I love their body shapes and sizes, their variety and their movements. Name a body part, I love it. Nice breasts, long legs, slender necks and taut stomachs – I love it all. But if there is one part of a woman that is always the first thing I look at, it's the ass. In my book if a woman has a beautiful rear end, then all the rest is good. Her tits can be big, small or medium-sized; her hair can be black, brown, or blond; her skin can be white, black or anything in between. But as long as she's got a nice ass, then I'm attracted.
It's not just the ass that I find attractive. It's the way the ass moves when a woman walks or the way it protrudes when she stands a certain way. To me the ass is the center of the womanly universe and the rest of her body radiates from there. Okay, call me obsessed, but that's the way it's always been for me.
And Amber? Well she had one of the best asses I had ever seen – anywhere. She drove us all wild that summer, well, at least me. She'd wear these skin-tight, low-riding jeans that hugged every curve, accentuated her sultry shape and exposed a sexy hint of smooth flesh. Some days she'd wear short skirts or mini-dresses to show off her slender bronze legs. When she walked her hips swayed and her ass cheeks did a little swiveling dance that I could never get enough of. I used to fantasize what it would be like to see her walk naked; to watch her pert little butt bounce as she sashayed before me; to fuck her from behind as her tight ass bounced with each thrust.
And, as I said, her ass just led to all the other exquisite parts of her body. Her toned thighs, her flat stomach, her pert little pussy, were all one with her ass. To say I was obsessed might be too strong a term. But finding out Amber was working in a strip club certainly got my attention.
I did my research that night on the computer. I found Pharaoh's Lounge had a website that listed their dancers. Sure enough, Amber, or Angel as she was known there, worked three nights a week including Sundays. I travel to Providence occasionally so I found an excuse to go the following Sunday. I made reservations at the Biltmore Hotel, an upscale downtown hotel and an easy walk to the club. I was taking a chance that this was all a wild goose chase, but I figured I didn't have anything to lose. Worst case is I'd spend an evening hanging out in a strip club.
I headed down the next Sunday afternoon, checked into my hotel and double-checked the club's website. By all accounts, Angel would be working the early shift – noon to 8pm. I had a light snack and headed over to the club around 6:30. I wanted to give myself some time to get acclimated and figure out my approach for greeting Amber.
Pharaoh's Lounge is a typical strip club. It looked a little seedy on the outside, but the parking lot was full this particular evening and the bright neon lights advertised the allure of what went on inside the windowless box of a building. I walked inside, paid a ten-dollar entry fee and headed through a beaded curtain into a dark room. It took my eyes a few minutes to adjust as I slowly circled the central stage and found a seat a few rows back.
There was a dancer onstage strutting her stuff and half-naked waitresses running around serving drinks. The music was loud, punctuated by an obnoxious DJ announcing who was onstage and who was next. His rap between songs was lame, but I didn't care. I was on a mission and I sat down, ordered a beer and surveyed the crowd. It wasn't too crowded after all and only a few of the patrons sat up close to the stage.
To the back of the club was a neon sign denoting the "VIP Lounge". Several dancers circulated the club, leaning down to speak to the customers and trying to lure them into the back for a lap dance. Pharaoh's was supposed to have excellent lap dances, according to Jack, and I was looking forward to doing a little research of my own.
"And now ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the lovely Angel!"
My eyes were now riveted front and center as a diminutive figure climbed up on the stage. Her 5'-3" frame was elongated by a pair of 4 inch stiletto heels with straps that wrapped seductively around her slender ankles. Her bronze skin shone golden in the spotlight and her long wavy brown hair glistened as she flipped it over her shoulder.
She was wearing what I guess could be called a mini-dress. It was skin tight, royal blue and fit her like a second skin. Her smallish breasts strained against the silky material and the bottom of the dress barely covered her pert ass. That incredible ass was now on the stage, twitching as she walked to the brass pole and swung around in one of those one-handed moves that showed she was no newcomer to this stage.
I was riveted to her performance, as was everyone else in the room. She moved in sync to the electronic beat, her body at one with the rhythm and pulse of the music. She never lost eye contact with the crowd, showing off her body while looking in earnest at her likely suitors. She'd lock in a patron's stuperous gaze and smile with a subtle hint of seduction. I was far enough back to be out of her range, but I was drawn in, nevertheless. I knew that once her stage show was over there would be guys crawling all over themselves to be with her. I knew I would have to act quickly.
She turned her back to the crowd, grabbed the pole and stuck her ass back toward her drooling admirers. As she arched her back, her sweet little buns slowly emerged from the tight short dress that wrapped her hips. Suddenly her beautiful ass was protruding and bouncing to the beat pulsating from the speakers. A slim strip of fabric bisected her buttocks and showed that she wore a thong for modesty sake. It cupped her mons and bulged with the sweet flesh barely hidden beneath. It tucked tightly into the deep round crevice of her ass and emerged at the top of her buttocks as it stretched thinly over her curvy hips.
Then she got on her knees, the dress rode up past her waist and she lifted her sweet butt cheeks into the air as she leaned forward and rested her head and arms on the floor. She reached between her legs, pulled the thong to one side and, for the first time, exposed her sweet wet pussy to the selected few that had the appropriate vantage point. She bobbled her butt in the air, a blatant call for attention to anyone that wanted to pursue this fantasy once she'd left the stage. There wasn't a guy in the place that wasn't thinking what it would be like to plow their dicks into her from behind. A crude thought, yes, but very true.
She moved with an assuredness and grace that exuded confidence. She knew she looked good and she obviously enjoyed showing off her body. She turned and lay on her back, dug her heels in and lifted her butt off the floor. She spread her legs slightly and reached down to cup her pussy with her hand, rubbing it very lightly while she humped her pelvis to the music. Then she pulled her thong to the side again and displayed her glistening pussy to the lucky souls who happened to be in the right spot. She lowered herself to the stage and continued to gyrate to the music as she looked from one patron to the next.
The music ended, she gathered up her tiny panties and the many dollar bills scattering the stage and made way for the next dancer. All eyes followed her, including mine. She left the stage and headed through a door to the rear. I watched the door like a hawk, knowing she'd soon emerge and begin to circulate through the crowd.
I saw her come through the door five minutes later and head toward the nearest seated patron, leaning over to invite him to explore her sweet body further in the VIP Lounge. I knew it was my time to move. I hopped up and headed around the stage, hoping this first fool was too drunk or too stupid to take her up on her offer. I tapped her shoulder and told her I'd like a private dance. She didn't look at me closely enough to recognize me, but grabbed my hand and lead me toward the back.
We entered the so-called "VIP Lounge", Amber leading the way. She brought me down an aisle of red curtains to an open booth and pulled me in, shutting the curtain. I sat down on a wooden chair and looked up into her eyes with a wan smile. It was then that recognition set in.
"Mr. B? Holy shit! What are you doing here?"
She put her hand to her mouth in a moment of realization and embarrassment.
"Oh my God. I'm so embarrassed."
"Amber, I mean Angel, don't be embarrassed. I'm the one who should be embarrassed. I'm the one that drove 70 miles to see you. I'm the older guy that shouldn't be here. You're just doing your thing. Please don't be embarrassed."
