At the suggestion of Jade, I decided to host an "Amateur night" every Tuesday evening. Lasting just one hour, it was an opportunity for non-professional dancers to perform for an enthusiastic crowd. Depending on the number of participants, the young women were given two or three songs to showcase their wares, with the winner determined solely by the reaction of the crowd. The cash prize was initially five hundred dollars which was fairly standard in the industry, although after experiencing a decline in the number of applicants once the novelty wore off, I increased this to twenty-five hundred, which had the desired effect.
Newport Beach is a tight-knit community, and "Amateur night" initially attracted college co-eds and young, unattached females. However, once the cash prize was increased, I was besieged with applicants from all walks of life. Apparently, twenty-five hundred dollars was a significant amount of money for many of these desperate women, causing them to suppress their shame and willingly cavort for the assembled masses.
It must have been humiliating for some of the less attractive women who showed up to amateur night. I am sure as they looked around the waiting room and noticed that their competition included college cheerleaders and gymnasts, they knew that they had no chance of winning the cash prize.
Occasionally, we would discover a hidden gem, a natural-born stripper whose rocking little body and sensual movements elicited erections from the all-male crowd. I think most of us are familiar with the discovery of Pamela Anderson, whose image was shown on the stadium screen at a British Columbia Lions football game. Responding to the raucous cheers from the fans, the stadium crew escorted Pamela to the football field, and as word of the reaction to her introduction spread among the main-stream media, Pamela signed a commercial contract with Labatt's beer to be the Blue Zone girl. This led to more advertising assignments, and soon she was approached by Playboy Magazine.
While I wasn't expecting to discover the next Pamela Anderson, I did uncover some undeniable talent, hidden amongst the grocery store checkers and the myriad of young restaurant staff working in our coastal city. In fact, three of the winners, after undergoing a lengthy secondary interview with yours truly, got hired as full-time dancers in my club.
After the first two events, during which several of the older, less attractive competitors backed out before they got their time on the stage, I instructed Jade to offer words of encouragement to those who were inclined to quit. It was amazing how the positive reinforcement of a few well-chosen words could inspire a forty-something year old woman to don a ridiculously sexual outfit, and gyrate on stage in front of half of the town's adult males.
In fact, it was during one of these embarrassing performances, that Jade floated the idea of having two separate cash prizes for Amateur night. As we watched the Saddleback College librarian, who was well into her forties, dance her heart out while dressed as a naughty nurse, it became apparent that we needed a prize for effort, and the second cash award was conceived. Given to the woman who had demonstrated the most heart, despite their obvious physical limitations, this twenty-five hundred dollar cash prize, was voted on by a few members of my staff. Tonight it was awarded to the chubby librarian, who had stripped to just her bra and high-heels, before impaling herself on a large, black strap-on phallus, wielded by Jade.
As the weeks went by, the crowd continued to increase in size, each week bringing a noticeably larger gathering to Amateur night. I guess it was inevitable that one of the Newport Beach millionaires would bring his hot girlfriend to the event, and force her to perform for the salivating males.
I didn't know the first guy personally, although I knew that his name was Jon Dodd, and he was a local developer who had made a fortune building several high-rise luxury condominiums along the shoreline of Newport Beach. Jon was brimming with self-confidence when he grabbed the microphone from the emcee, and gave a brief speech before introducing his "Toys," as he collectively referred to them. To my astonishment, Jody and Rachel shuffled out nervously, identically attired in their Patriots Cheerleader Uniforms, and clearly ruffled by their forced humiliation.
Even in the highly sexually-charged environment of the strip-club, and despite the fact that I had already busted a nut twice during the evening's festivities, my cock throbbed in my pants at the mere sight of Jody. She was just so fucking hot, an indisputable Newport Beach ten, and yet she had once again been reduced to being a rich man's fuck-toy.
Jody and Rachel quickly gained their self-confidence under the sustained cheering from the assembled men, who could not believe the beauty of the two identical-looking platinum blondes. As they moved through their obviously choreographed routine, which included synchronized dance, a slow strip-tease, sensual kissing and a multiple-position, prolonged sexual encounter involving each of them wearing a strap-on, two things happened.
Firstly, the timekeeper, a young man in his twenties responsible for terminating each act after six minutes in order to keep things flowing, simply put down his stopwatch, and enjoyed the performance. Twelve or thirteen minutes elapsed, as the crowd went crazy with each new sexual position, before Jody and Rachel finally stopped fucking, and lowering themselves slowly to the stage, began to make out. In anticipation of an orgasm, the DJ killed the music.
Secondly, the predominantly young, male crowd quieted to a hushed whisper, as the two blondes tenderly kissed before Rachel entered Jody, and they started to rock together in the missionary position. The whisper became silence, and you could have heard a pin drop, as Jody began to moan softly under the sustained invasion of her tight, young pussy by Rachel's strap-on phallus.
The crowd remained silent as Rachel skillfully brought Jody to three stupendous orgasms, before withdrawing the latex cock from her slick pussy, and forcing her to suck it clean. It was such an erotic performance, and it elevated my level of desire for Jody, to the point where I would have paid whatever it took to have her as my own.
Of course, every man in the club that night was thinking the same thing, although I imagine most of them had come to terms with the fact that it was never going to happen for them. I couldn't go there in my mind, and as their new benefactor walked onto the stage with two black trench-coats, and covered them up to allow them some modesty before they left the brightly-lit performance platform, I wanted Jody more than anything on earth.
Jade, my manager, swiftly entered the stage gathering up the remnants of their Cheerleader Uniforms, although I saw three young men grab the two discarded pairs of panties and a garter-belt, as a memento of the performance.
Despite being a multi-millionaire, the developer went to claim his cash prize, as Jade escorted Jody and Rachel to the dressing room to get changed. I knew the protocol of the strippers' changing room. I knew it was a female-only environment, a safe haven for the dancers to toss down a couple of shots, or to ingest some cocaine or MDMA, in order to take the edge off. Jade had even shared with me that some dancers would enjoy a pre-show climax in the privacy of the dressing room, so that they were more in the mood to perform.
For these reasons, I knew it was wrong of me to enter the room, but my lust for Jody had impacted my judgment, and before I could stop myself I went to the door. I knocked first and identified myself, waiting several seconds before entering to allow the girls time to cover up, if they so desired.
Luckily for me, only Jade, Jody and Rachel were in there, the two platinum blondes listening intently as Jade made an impassioned plea to hire them full-time. It was laughable really, Jade blissfully unaware of the girls' financial situation, as she assured them that they could earn eight grand a month if they worked a regular schedule. I had offered them fifteen thousand dollars a month to be my live-in girlfriends, and I am sure that they had upped the demands for their monthly stipend, as their popularity increased.
"Hi Papa," Jody said, as I entered the dressing room, my face visibly flushed from my arousal, and my erection jutting out from the front of my pants.
