I wanted to try a bit of a different approach and style this time.
This story has a brief intro background; and then focuses more on interaction and each person's thoughts rather than dialogue.
It is my hope the reader can immerse themselves into one of the characters to feel the story not spoken.
Libby had always been into dancing and gymnastics, ever since she was a child. We always encouraged her and never missed a tournament or performance. When she started high school she dreamed of the Olympics; by the time she finished high school it was sports medicine and physical rehab.
Now just starting her third year of college we've tried to encourage her independence and self-reliance. She attended state university over six hours away, giving her the dorms and a whole world to explore.
My wife and I have a loving and wonderful relationship, and yes the sex is very satisfying. Now that we have more privacy, in fact, things have even rekindled a bit. Like all things, we've aged; and with that come a focus on her nursing career and my focus on our business; but through it all we've always been close.
Like all men, I've had my fantasies; some Gayle knows about, and others she doesn't. It's a personal thing; the guys out there would understand. These last two summers have been especially difficult, a time when my fantasies have been more perversions than anything else. I mean what can you do when a walking wet dream roams your house almost all summer in nothing but a bikini or shorts and cut off tank tops.
At five foot, taut; lean and muscular; Libby would give a corpse a hard on. Add to that a perfectly shaped pair of 34C breasts; and you have nothing but perverted fantasy fuel. Not that I've ever done anything about it; what father has.
But to be clear I raised Libby, but I didn't create Libby. Her biological father became a no show after Gayle announced her pregnancy and by the time Gayle and I got together; Libby was almost two years old. But, in my heart I've always considered her my daughter; and I'm the only dad she's ever known; so make your own judgments.
I hadn't been in the store more than two hours and I already knew half the problem. Sales had started so good at the beginning of the school year; but they had faltered these last few months. I had come to see firsthand what was going on; and was not happy with what I found. This store was right next to the state university campus; a prime location for all the young and their latte and cappuccino hankerings.
The first problem was hiring the young to serve the young only worked when the staff didn't have their cell phones jammed up their noses and ignoring the customers. The other was just sheer sloppiness; poor dress code, poor scheduling, you name it.
I pulled Dean, the manager aside and told him we needed to have a talk. I disliked doing it here where all the other staff could see it; the last thing you did was dress down a manager in front of their crew; it's bad for morale.
Dean suggested having dinner; and while I make it my usual habit to not socialize with the help; I was a bit on the hungry side. I agreed and we headed out to his car. We spent a little time discussing the cell phones; and then Dean arrived. I just stared at him; was this guy for real. He assured me he came here for the food; in fact, apparently the guy was gay; so coming to a strip club to eat was something he had never clearly thought about.
I wasn't thrilled, but I have to say that halfway through the meal; the guy had not made a bad choice; the food was excellent. Of course having a twenty year old young lady in a bra busting with breast flesh serving you didn't hurt my feelings.
I've been to strip clubs before, Gayle knows. It's been one of our recent role playing fantasies where she plays a street hooker and I'm her John; frankly it's been a hot one.
We were sitting right at the balcony of the upper floor, with a bird's eye view of the dance floor. Honestly most of what had come across that floor; while nice; was nothing spectacular. That was, until I glanced over and froze in my seat.
She was doing a split on the pole and slowly sliding down with that metal bar pressed between her thighs. She had on an Arabian princess costume and all the veils were transparent; and while she wore a g-string; I had a full frontal view of the most perfectly shaped 34C breasts I had ever seen. Dear God nothing will send a surge of blood to your cock more than watching a taut, fit dancer sliding down a stripper pole.
I turned to Dean and told him just where things were at. I explained about the crew and the discipline. I then told him we needed to weed the staff and hire some more mature staff. I also told him I would be handling the interviews. From my standpoint, he was now on probation for the next six months; and if I didn't see a change in sales; I would be interviewing for a new manager.
Dean got the message quickly, and I then dismissed him; saying I was staying for a bit. Like a person with at least some semblance of wisdom, he took the hint and headed for the door.
Once I got rid of him, I turned my attention back to the dance floor and shit if she wasn't gone. I thought about just leaving and dropping the issue here; when I spotted her sitting in a booth next to a guy dressed in a business suit. I ordered a fresh drink and just sat and watched her.
It was about ten minutes in when the guy took her hand; but when she pulled it back there was something in her palm. Someone on the floor would never have seen it, but at my height advantage I couldn't miss it.
She slid out of the booth, hesitated; and then led the guy through the dance floor to a dark corner of the building where they both disappeared.
My stomach churned; at first I thought I was going to throw up. I mean I had just watched my daughter, half nude; doing a striptease. I now had watched her take money from a strange guy and lead him back to where I knew the private dance booths had to be.
