Posted by rache on August 26, 2006 at 19:51:16:
Not sure I like this, the end at least, It didn't develop like I wanted. But so what...No snuff, but you rapists can get a fix, right? -rr
Makin’ Movies
Copyright 2002 - 2006 Rachael Ross all rights reserved
Story Codes: F/F, Voyeur, F/F, SM, WS, M+/F, Rape, NC?, BDSM, Size, Fist, etc...etc...
Makin’ Movies
By rache
"Oh!" I looked down at my coffee, stirring a little more sugar in it. "I'm not sure, Jen. I mean I've never..."
My best friend cut me off. "You're the one always saying you want to make some extra money, Rache." She pulled her long blonde hair back in a ponytail and looked at me with her soft blue eyes. "It's up to you anyway."
"What, uh, what would I have to do?" I asked.
Jenny was getting ready for work, putting on a little too much makeup though, I thought. She was pretty enough without it, but I guess being under the lights made her a little self-conscious, I don't know.
"Well, they just want to do a movie, like a couple hours is all it takes. Some guy talks to you, like an interview thing and then you undress and then have sex with some guy. That's it." She was staring in the little mirror propped up against her purse, concentrating on her eyelashes now.
"I don't know." I said again and Jen was getting tired of my indecision.
"It's up to you, Rache. I'm going and I'm pretty sure April's going. They're looking for three girls, I can find someone else, it's no big deal." She stopped talking as she did her lipstick. "Anyway, it's 600 dollars, so let me know tonight, okay? If I don't hear from you, I'll find someone else. Donna would do it, I think. She's pregnant again and needs the money."
"Another abortion?" I shook my head. "She needs to get her tubes tied, is what she needs."
Jen laughed. "Yeah, no shit." She put her red glossy lips next to my cheek, almost but not quite touching. "See ya later, huh?"
"Bye." I was still stirring my coffee.
I thought about it while I tried to do my homework. Jenny and I had lived together since we graduated high school together almost 2 years ago. We were best friends and had been since I was 15 and brand new to Seattle. But we were pretty different from each other, so maybe it's true about opposites attracting. Where she was tall and blond and blue, with long legs and heavy large breasts; I was 6 inches shorter, with black hair, deep brown eyes and a tomboy body, to put it simply. Narrow hips, small breasts, and painfully thin. There were a lot of people, a lot of guys, who thought we went pretty well together. And while we had double teamed a guy or two, Jen was straight as an arrow. I'm bisexual, I guess, although I don't think of myself that way. I tend to tell people I'm hetero with lesbian tendencies. Jen tells them I'm just the opposite.
She didn't really like it the one time I'd convinced her to let me go down on her. I mean she'd enjoyed it enough to cum three or four times, but that isn't the same as liking it. That had been right after graduation when we'd found out little apartment and moved in. I admit all those margaritas we'd drank to celebrate might have had something to do with what happened, because me having sex with Jen was just about the last thing either of us wanted. Sex always ruins a perfectly good friendship. But damn if tequila doesn't make me incredibly horny and Jen too, for that matter. The next day, feeling a little embarrassed, we agreed that tequila was no longer permitted on the premises, and we got busy with just being friends.
I also got busy with school, taking a fairly massive load that first year, and not much lighter this second year. It was going to take just 30 months to get my Bachelor's though and a few years after that I'd have my masters, then...my doctorate was in reach. I didn't always have such clear cut goals, but I did now.
Jen, on the other hand, is of the happy-go-lucky persuasion. She got busy with life, taking a job as an exotic dancer at a club near Sea-Tac airport. She's not a prostitute, don't go thinking that, she'll go fight club on your ass. She does her sets, serves her drinks, performs a lap dance when she has to, and does shower scenes on the weekends. But she doesn't go to any hotel rooms, or give customers head in the parking lot like some girls we know. And maybe that's why I was a little surprised when she mentioned this movie business.
Apparently some guys are doing a series of pornographic movies featuring 'Amateurs' meaning young women who haven't done porn before. They've done something like 40 or 50 of them already, and they're looking to do another one. I guess it's a popular genre, if that's the right word. The movies all feature 3 segments, 3 different girls, and they like to have variety. Hence tall blonde Jen needs small dark me so we can appeal to a broader audience, I guess. I never really considered pornographic marketing issues before. April, who already agreed to do it with Jen, is another blonde, but smaller, a bubbly Canadian girl with nothing but curves everywhere you looked.
They paid six hundred for two or three hours of filming, then that would get cut down to what they needed for the finished product. Sounded pretty easy, really. I didn't mind getting naked, I looked good enough, nor did the idea of having sex with some strange guy really bother me. It wasn't like I hadn't fucked strangers before, and hadn't been paid a dime for it. I suppose my concerns were first, that someone I knew might see the movie, or my picture on the box, or a clip on the internet, or something. You know? I mean what would that be like? Especially if it was my Dad, or one of my Dad's friends or something. Yikes!
And then there was the issue of guilt. Good old fashioned catholic girl school guilt. Would accepting money for doing that make me a model? An actress? Or just a whore? It sounds stupid, I know. Especially considering all the really bad things I've done in my short life, even reveled in, without so much as an 'Excuse me' to God. I mean, there were some days, some weeks and months even, when I could have made a pretty good case for being the anti-Christ. So...I was thinking hard, because Jen was right about one thing. I needed the money.
Mary Magdalene was a whore. Jesus loved her. I know it's a sin, but I've always believed in my heart that Jesus had sexual relations with her. I mean she knew what it was about, right? And she had a thing for Jesus, obviously, and he might have been the Son of God, but he was a man too, with all the strengths and weaknesses therein. So I'm pretty sure when Mary Magdalene slipped her hand inside his robe, stroking Jesus' cock so softly it might have been a warm breeze, he looked into her soft eyes and fucked the hell out of that slut.
Okay. So being a whore was okay.
With that settled, I wrestled with my father. I hadn't tortured him in a week, so I called him.
"Hi Rache." He sounded tired.
"Hi Daddy, how did you know it was me?"
"I have caller ID, now it warns me when you're out of money." I could hear his smile.
"Why'd you answer then?" I laughed.
"Reflexes." He made a clucking sound. "They die hard."
"Yeah, so how ya doin', Daddy? How's everything?"
"The same, I finally got that garage painted. The weather's been good, so maybe I'll get around to the pool house, I don't know."
"Well, don't strain yourself, 'kay? What did you eat tonight?"
"Uh."
"Daddy? Don't tell me it was McDonald's again."
"Well, I was working late."
"You just want me to come over, huh?" I threatened. "I will too, you know it, I'll make a tuna casserole or something. That fast crap is gonna kill you."
"Yeah, I know. How's school?"
"The same, still here."
"Uh-huh, how's Jenny?"
"The same, still here." I giggled.
"And um, what's his name? The professor?"
"Paul? uh...I don't know, we're...you know, in and out."
"Huh?" He sounded shocked and I laughed.
"Not that! Daddy! I swear! Where's your girlfriend?"
"Oh, she's around." My daddy didn't have a girlfriend.
"Uh-huh, okaaaaay...you gotta get out some."
"Yeah. So...what's new?" He got down to it like a good Daddy with a girl in college. "You need money? Everything...uh...okay?" Meaning was I pregnant?
"I'm fine Daddy, really. Hey though, I wanted to ask you something kinda...weird."
"Nothing you could ask would sound weird, Rache...I wake up expecting it."
"Oh! Really?" I gave him a little surprised sarcasm and then waited, counting while I smiled.
1...2...3...4...5...6...
"What did you want to ask me?"
"Well, this guy is offering me 600 dollars to do a movie, called...um..." I read the little card Jenny had gotten from one of the guys. "It's Coed Debutantes" I paused "And I was thinking about doing it."
"Is that..." Ahem. He coughed. "A uh, pornographic film?"
"It might be, I don't know, probably kind of an artsy thing, you know? But I would have to get naked for sure. I was just wondering if, uh, that would totally bum you out, or if you'd be okay with it."
"Rache if you need 600 dollars I can..."
"Well, Daddy, I kind of want to earn something myself you know? You're always on me about that Visa bill, so I thought you'd...like this, maybe."
"Rachael," He sighed. "What do you expect me to say? Honestly? No. Of course I don't want you doing that kind of thing, alright? Don't bullshit me, and don't call me up asking dumb questions. You're 19, almost 20 now, if you want to do porn, go right ahead. But I don't want to know about it, alright?"
"I was just looking for advice, Daddy."
"Then my advice is no. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Okay."
"Daddy? I'm, uh...I'm sorry okay?"
"Okay, Rachael..." Big sigh. "I just don't want you hurting yourself. I love you."
"I love you too, Daddy. I better go, huh."
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, oh yeah. I'm fine."
"I love you."
"I know, Daddy. Bye."
And then we hung up. I called the club where Jenny worked, getting Doris the counter girl, and I left a message. I'd do the movie and as soon as they sent me my complimentary copy, I'd autograph it for my Daddy. Maybe ask for a few so I could give them as stocking stuffers to his friends at work. I hated it when he made me cry.
Paul and I had been going through a rough bit. No surprises there, really. He was fucking around, but I didn't know with whom. I hadn't really tried to find out, since it could only make me feel worse knowing who she was. I'd been dating the guy since I was 16, you'd think I'd be used to it. But I wasn't. He'd fooled around on and off the whole time, nearly 4 years, and when I caught him, I broke up. Then, somehow, like magic, I'd find myself calling him, or answering the phone one day and there he'd be. Apologizing and promising.
I wondered what he'd think of me doing porn. But I wouldn't call him to find out, no way. He wanted to fuck around? So be it. I hadn't spoken to him in almost a month and it was driving me crazy. I'd been to some clubs though, acting silly, playing normal and sweet and oh so straight. Once in awhile I'd get lucky and then wake up feeling like I wanted to puke. Saccharine love when I just wanted someone to beat me...
"Oh Rachael, God your so hot! I love your little tits..."
"Pinch them...harder...please! I won't break..."
"Mmmm..."
"Harder...oh shit...come on...do it hard for me..."
"Like this, baby...?"
"No! Harder, bastard...fuck...do it...rip them off..."
"Hey...wait I'm not..."
"You motherfucker...Do it!"
"Psycho bitch! Get out of my car!"
"Asshole!...Faggot!" I'd shout, watching him drive off. I had a few dates like that, enough to know I hated this new century with a passion. Men in touch with their feelings, sensitive guys who thought that no really did mean no. Christ. So I'd settled for men who wanted to 'make love' to me, tender and sweet, asking me if I'd cum because a woman's orgasm was important.
But there had been a couple good ones too, here and there. Like the cop I'd been with twice. He was into sport fucking the chicks who dug the uniform, he'd told me, sitting in a booth at Taco Bell.
"What are you into?" I'd asked, cramming a nacho into my mouth.
"Sport fucking chicks who dig the uniform." He grinned at me, daring me to blush.
"Yeah?" I looked at him. He looked good, even after an 8-hour shift, still crisp and clean. "I just like the handcuffs." I sucked my straw.
"You wanna get a room?" He nodded out the door at the motel across the highway.
"What's wrong with your place?"
"My wife's there."
"Oh." Sluuuuurp! "Let's get a room then."
I didn't even know his name until two hours later. We'd met standing in line, waiting to order. He had no problem trying to rip my tits off; he even handcuffed them once, squeezing the flesh close to my chest with a little ratcheting sound until I felt the cold metal digging into me hard. They'd been pulled painfully close together, with that short chain tight between them. Looking at myself in the mirror that night had been enough to make me cum. Having his cock inside me only made it better.
On our second date, if that's what it was, I asked him to fuck me with his gun. He'd come around after his shift was over, picking me up in his big truck. He had to leave his police car at the station, which disappointed me more than it should have. I'd love to get fucked in the back of a cop car. He handcuffed me, spanked me, and worked on my pussy with his fingers until I was soaked.
"Fuck me with it." I was begging, looking at the big belt lying on the little desk in that cheap motel room. All that utility, just waiting to be used. "Put your gun inside me."
But he wouldn't do it. He made me suck him off instead. And then I asked him again, to put that cold black thing in my cunt. He just laughed and called me crazy, but not so crazy he couldn't fuck me a few times before driving me home at 3am. I guess he knew I was unsatisfied, a little frustrated. He never called me again. Or, maybe his wife found out and killed him, shot him in the balls with his own gun. Fucked him the way he wouldn't fuck me. I like to think so sometimes.
And so now, making a porn flick was just another step along that strange twisted path. I wondered if I'd be dancing in a month, humping chrome for 20 bucks in tips and all the propositions I could handle. I'd considered it, off and on. Jen liked her job, she thought of it as therapy for men, and for some of the girls too.
"You should try it, Rache." She'd tell me. "It's like a little power trip, being up there, all those guys watching, just wanting you so bad." She giggled. "It makes me feel good, sometimes."
"How about the other times?" I'd asked.
"I don't remember." Jen shrugged.
I'd been to the club a bunch of times. Met the girls, met Jen's boss, a nice guy named Ken who looked like he'd be doing anything else but running a strip club. He wasn't fat, or balding, or greasy. He had an MBA and a wife and two kids. He didn't hit on the girls, although a couple had tried more than once to hit on him. He was cute as hell. And he was persuasive.
"Rachael, hi! Great to see you again, you want a drink? Coke?" He'd wave at Doris. "How's school?"
And we'd chat for a few minutes, sitting at the end of the counter while one of the girls danced. Every now and then he'd look at her, or at the other girls, hustling drinks in their little thongs and bustiers.
"Sammi's a great dancer." He'd say, gesturing at a little Vietnamese woman who was grinding it out to NIN's 'The Perfect Drug' with wild abandon. "She pulls down 3 grand a week minimum, and reports two at the most. Asian girls are hot, Rachael. Everybody wants one. You should think about moonlighting."
I'd smile at nod. "Yeah, I think about it, but with my course load I'd be sleeping instead of dancing."
"Just do yourself a favor, Rache, enjoy yourself, whatever you do." Ken would pat my hand gently and smile and wander back to his office to check some books, or behind the bar to check the stock, or into the dressing room to see if his girls were okay. He was always busy, but always relaxed too. He enjoyed his job.
I wasn't sure if I enjoyed anything. I was sitting there, looking at the phone, thinking those thoughts. I should have done some reading, or writing maybe, but I didn't. Thinking about Ken had made me lonely for some reason, the way thinking about those other people hadn't. I decided to go see Jenny dance, have a cherry coke and see the men seeing her. I wasn't sure it would make me any happier, but it was better than sitting around that empty house. I threw on a black cotton skit, a white halter, some little white panties and some black heels. A long burgundy silky trench coat thing that weighed all of 6 ounces, and fluttered around me like angel wings, would keep me safe and warm. For 300 bucks I wore it every chance I got.
It's a long bus ride from our apartment all the way out to Sea-Tac, but I don't mind the bus all that much. There's a certain sense of belonging in that constant transition, going from one place to another. The rest of the world is shut out, except through strange greenish windows, and the whoosh of the doors when they open. People are isolated from each other, insulated by the knowledge that this closeness is temporary and forced. I like it. Many people don't, but I do. People only ride the bus when they have to; I've done it just for fun.
I got off finally, after transferring twice, just a block down from the garish sign that proclaims "Exotic Dancing!" and a smaller one, but still readable from the corner, "No Cover With Room Key!" I've never quite understood if there was some deal going on with the hotels there or not. Maybe something to keep the hookers out of the piano lounge at the Marriot, the concierge sends his guests to the club if they're looking for action.
Across the street there's a little liquor store, a tattoo parlor, and an adult bookstore. They all look terribly seedy actually, and rather out of place. I think Ken mentioned the town was trying to get rid of that particular lot, put an Olive Garden or something there. So the whole family can eat pasta and look at the businessmen wandering into the high class strip club across the street.
Ken's been under a lot of pressure too, but he has the local vice on his payroll, so he knows when he's going to get checked. The cops come in once a month, maybe twice, checking his liquor license, the girl's employment sheets, some customer ID's maybe. Once in awhile they'll put an uncle inside, an undercover cop, to see if he can get a prostitution bust. But Ken runs a pretty clean place, not a hundred percent, but close to it. The girls who hook pretty much do it on their own time and there's no dark corners for 20 dollar blowjobs or anything.
The girls are all 21, or at least have an ID that says they are. Like mine, an Oregon State ID that's real, with a Klamath Falls library card, a Social Security Card, a real live Visa Card, and a OSU student ID that an anarchist friend hooked me up with. They really are mine, I mean its my face on both of the ID's, but the name is Brenda. I didn't have any choice though and it didn't cost me anything, so I don't complain.
Wanna know how you get a real fake ID? ... (I just wrote this big long thing saying exactly how to do it, and then I deleted it! You're nuts if you think I'm gonna put that in a story!) ... Okay, so now you have a new birth certificate, a job history, an education, a bank account, a credit card, a SS number, and a State ID, and you are now somebody else. Like Brenda…
Now, you do all that only if you really want to disappear. If you want to go into the Anarchist's Protection Program. Just don't get caught, because you have violated about 30 state and federal statutes and they are going to burn you at the stake if they find out. The government doesn't want anyone to be invisible but themselves. If all you want is a fake ID to get in a club? Find the guy on campus selling them, he shouldn't be too hard to locate. But be prepared to have it confiscated. Better buy 3 or 4 at least.
It was almost 9pm by the time I arrived at the club, dark and cool, but at least it wasn't raining. I pushed open the door and saw Rambo sitting there, the big bouncer who checks ID's, collects the cover, and walks the girls in and out if they want. Believe me, around closing time they want. Some of the customers just want one more peek, and they sit in their cars waiting…staring. It's happened to me, and I don't even dance. I just stare back usually, but most of the girls working there just want to get home safe and sound.
Rambo looks like Rambo, kind of, he's big and muscular with a special forces tattoo thing on his arm, short black hair and just generally looks like he'd kick the shit out of just about anybody and their 3 friends. I like him too, he's pretty funny, he was in Vietnam right at the end I guess, when everything was really bad. But he doesn't talk about that. He talks about how they used to give laxatives to Vietnamese people, telling them it was chocolate.
"We went to this little village once." He told me. "And they were all Viet Cong, you know, the war was about over so everybody was jumping on Ho's boat anyway. And they were always asking for stuff, food and medicine, and chocolate, man they loved that Hershey's. So one day we started passing out ExLax, cause it looks just like chocolate. The next day we're back on patrol and we come back to this village and all these people, men, women, children, everyfuckinbody is waving their arms and backing away 'No chocolate, Joe! No chocolate!' shit, we coulda won that war if they'd given us more ExLax."
I had to give Rambo a hug before he'd let me in, he does that with all the girls, but I don't mind. He doesn't try to grab any ass or anything, though I wouldn't mind that either. I told him he should let his hair grow out, since he was sporting a new buzz. "Shit Rache, you ever seen what happens to hair in a bar fight?" He shook his head and I could sympathize. A girl named Cynthia had kicked my ass once in school by grabbing my hair and kicking me in the cunt. I don't really remember how bad that kick had hurt, but my scalp was still burning 6 years later.
I went into the large room where the customers sat, and sat down at the end of the bar. Very few people actually sat there, of course, they liked to crowd the two stages, although only one was being used tonight. Doris smiled at me, she was setting up drinks for one of the girls. Doris is older, she'd been a dancer for a long time and now she pretty much ran the place and let Ken worry about business. She kept the girls in line, watched the customers, and kept the bouncers on their toes. She'd been pretty once and still looked okay under the soft lights, but you could tell there'd been some rough miles.
"Hey Rachael."
"Hey Doris, can I get a cherry coke?" I asked. That was a regular old coke and a bowl of cherries. I'd put about six in the glass and stir it up. Like a little kid, I guess, but I liked it.
"Sure. You come to dance?" She always asked me that, like it was inevitable, which made me nervous because her little finger knew more about people than I ever would.
"Nah, I just wanted to get out." I thanked her as she put my drink down on a napkin in front of me and slid the cherries over.
"I gave Jen your message. You sure you wanna do that?" She was wiping her hands and looking motherly at me. That was one of her jobs.
"Uh, I guess, money is money, right?"
"Yeah, it all spends the same. But it ain't all worth the same, ya know?" I just scratched my head while Doris spoke. I didn't know anything about the porn business, but it seemed like one little movie wasn't any big deal. "You got a good head, Rache, that's all I'm saying; you don't need to be using your ass."
"Ah, it's just one job, one movie, Doris, come on. You sound like I'm already some kinda porno queen. There's lots of girls I'm sure that just do it once or twice, get a quick fix and move on, that's all I'm doing, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, okay. Hell, you might even like it." She laughed and shook her head and then Candy was there with her tray and an order. "Three buds, a soda and lime, and a noisemaker straight up, please Doris honey." She smiled at me. "Hey pumpkin, what's doin?"
"Hi Candy, just getting some motherly love." I grinned at Doris and she wagged her tongue.
"Well, you start lookin' for sisterly love and I'll be around, huh?" Candy laughed and reached for some ashtrays.
"Incest is best!" I told her and watched as she hefted her tray and rolled her dark eyes at me.
"That's what you always say, but I'm still...waiting!" she sang the last word softly, teasing me.
Candy, whose real name was Cardinelle, looked an awful lot like me. So people had gotten to calling us sisters when I came around, which honestly wasn't as often as I'm making it sound. Maybe 4 or 5 times a month at the most. She was 24 and had a petite body, boyish in the same way mine was, with her narrow hips and small breasts, but her ass and legs were super fine, and her face was so pretty. Her parents had emigrated from Venezuela, but she'd been born here in Seattle. Candy was also a lesbian and made passes at everyone. She'd slept with half the dancers, probably more than half, and one of these days I knew she'd sleep with me too. I was looking forward to it, but the teasing and waiting was too much fun right then I think, for both of us.
That, and also it's nice to have something saved up for a rainy day, you know what I mean? If a time came when I really just needed to be with someone, not for love, or even lust really, but just intimate physical contact, I knew Candy was there. That may not make a lot of sense to some people, but to those who understand...
Jen finally noticed me and gave me a little wave from a table on the far side of the stage. She was sitting with a couple guys, they looked like shoe salesmen from Salt Lake City. The running joke was that the worst pervs always turned out to be Mormons. As far as anyone knew there had never been a Mormon in the club, perv or otherwise, not that anyone would know, it's just a silly club thing. Any guy who is a little too touchy, or starts making propositions involving animals, jelly donuts, or vacuum cleaners is automatically labeled a Mormon, like a secret code:
"See that guy at the stage?"
"Him?"
"No, no...The one with the Texaco cap. He's a Mormon."
"Yeah?"
"Had his dick out when I brought him his beer, tried to tip me with it. I told him if he does it again Rambo's gonna introduce him to Wally."
"What an idiot. Thanks for word."
"Sure. Talk at ya later."
Wally was the side of the building. Hard cold brick and a few guys had bounced off him, some of them 2 or 3 times. But once was usually enough. You get bounced a couple times and you're not getting back in, after the first warning it's criminal trespass to walk through the door.
I think the Mormon thing was started by a dancer named Sheila, who wasn't really Sheila, but a lot of the girls don't like to use their real names and she was Australian, so it fit. Some words just twisted her pretty little ears. Or maybe she was partly deaf, I don't know. But the story is that one of the other dancers had been telling Sheila the exact conversation I told you a second ago, except the other girl hadn't said 'Mormon' at all. She'd said '...He's a moron.' Sheila, wanting to spread the good word, told all the other girls that the guy was a Mormon, with her big green eyes and Billabong accent. No one was quite sure what the guy's religion had to do with it, but eventually everyone had a good laugh, even Sheila, although she felt a little foolish.
After that, all the pervs were Mormons.
Jen got up a few minutes later, coming to the bar for more drinks and to say hi. She was wearing white and the black lights made her glow. "Hey Rache, what's going on?" She looked at Doris. "Another pitcher and an iced tea."
"Bud Light?"
"Yeah." Jen was drinking the tea, the guys would think they were buying her some kind of alcoholic drink. It costs ten bucks for a little glass. "So..." She looked at me. "You're gonna do it?"
I nodded. "Yeah, sure...Somebody's gotta keep an eye on you." I smiled and sucked a cherry.
"Heh, I got all the eyes I need right now." She glanced over her shoulder at her two customers. "I bet you a dollar I'm doing a lap dance in 5 minutes."
"A whole dollar?" I widened my eyes. "Now that's real confidence!" I laughed at her.
"Thanks Doris." Jen watched as Doris wrote Jenny's name on the receipt and stuffed it in a jar. The girl's didn't get paid by the hour or anything. They got half their tips from dancing, half of whatever they made for table or lap dances, plus 10% of the drinks they sold. A good night for Jen was around 700 dollars; a bad night was maybe 300 hundred. That was the good thing about being next to the airport and all the hotels, a lot of guys came in with the company credit cards and a couple clients. Table dances were 20 bucks a pop, lap dances were 50, and for a good tip a girl like Jen could make a guy cum in his pants. I've seen it happen.
There were a few locals too, guys who lived or at least worked nearby. Some of them were good tippers, but generally they weren't. They'd stop in to feel good, because after a few times everybody got to know them and people relaxed a bit. The girl's would say hi to a guy by name and if it was payday give him some special attention because they always got generous. Some guys had been coming in for years, and they were like part of the furniture, like brothers almost, minding their own business, or maybe hoping someday, somehow they'd get lucky with one of the girls. They all had favorites, and some of the guys would bring little presents, or flowers sometimes.
It was an awful lot like walking a razorblade with those guys though, because they were right on the edge of being inside, but no one would invite them that one little step further, you know? They were always outside looking in, and the girls took advantage of it, mercilessly at times. Until once in awhile a guy would just...wake up. And realize he was wasting his time and his money. Sometimes they got pissed, made a big fuss, but usually they just disappeared. It was a part of the business I didn't totally understand or trust, part of the reason I resisted the idea of dancing maybe. Not that I wouldn't totally use an idiot, I could give a fuck less, but just that I'd rather avoid the temptation.
Sure enough, Jen was doing a lap dance for one of the guys almost before she could sit down. She motioned to Donna who was nearby and got her to take care of the bill, the guy was putting it on his expense account probably. Then she moved the guy back, getting a little room to work with. Everyone knows what a lap dance is, although rules can vary from place to place, and according to what the dancer is willing to do. Around here the girl could get fully naked, basically do whatever she wanted around the customer, touching him if she wanted, but he couldn't touch her, except maybe to kiss a nipple or other body part if Jen offered. Hands were a no-no though, even if she dry humped the bulge in his pants until he exploded…no hands.
One of the bouncers, in this case it was Greg, who usually hung out by the DJ booth, moved a little closer. He wouldn't do anything unless Jen needed him. The bouncers hated lap dances with a passion, because sometimes it was hard to tell when the girl was dancing, and when she was trying to signal for help. So the usual signal was a slap across the customer's face, followed quickly by the rest of his body meeting the parking lot. But that was pretty rare, mostly the customers knew the rules.
The guy must have been tipping good because I watched Jen, just wearing her thong, straddle the guys legs facing him. She hooked her knees around the plastic chair and leaned back against the table, pulling her thong to the side and playing with her cunt while he stared down at her. Then she pushed herself back up and did a grind against him, while he moved just a little, but mostly he just sat there and smiled dumbly. She moved around, rubbing her breasts along his chest, up his face, squeezing his nose between her tits. She did everything but pull out his cock and fuck him, and it must have been a good 10 minutes or so before she was done with the guy. She dressed in front of him slowly and picked up her tray and the empty glasses, taking some money from the guy's friend for another round.
"Whew! It's warm." Jenny's body shone with perspiration. "I needed that!" She laughed and her bright blue eyes twinkled. "I need another pitcher and another tea, please."
"How much did you get?" I asked.
"Just 20 for a tip, but that's okay, they're nice enough." The assholes get much shorter dances, tip or no tip. "I got the next set. You should come over and sit down with us!" Jen smiled at me. "Keep em warm while I dance."
I shook my head. "Nah, I'm a wall flower tonight." I shrugged. “I gotta take off pretty soon anyway.”
"Oh please? Come on. Rache, God you look like you could use some company." She was tugging at my arm. “You can catch a ride with me, Greg’s driving.”
Jen didn’t have a car, in fact only a couple of the girls did, but they had a little carpool thing going anyway. Greg or Rambo, or sometimes Doris would drive Jen home after work and she’d chip in for gas, or maybe something more for the guys, but I wasn’t sure and I wouldn’t ask. It would have been rude.
"Oh, God, all right. Jenny..." I was laughing, but it wasn't entirely genuine. I didn't even work there, I wouldn't make anything. Nothing on drinks, anything resembling a tip would go to the club, no lap dances, no sex. I couldn't hook. If the guys wanted to buy me a drink though...it was 10 bucks. I was in some weird quasi-entertainer land, neither a stripper nor a customer. I'd just be...Rachael.
Jenny didn't use a fake name, and I didn't either, at least not around there. I didn't really need to, I seriously doubted anyone was going to stalk me or anything, and besides, if I needed to I could say my real name was Brenda. Making Rachael my fake name and that would confuse the hell out of anyone! I left my coat at the bar, hanging onto my purse, and followed Jenny as she carried her tray, Doris had put another coke on it for me, so it wouldn't look like I was out begging. Nothing worse than sitting down with a stranger and asking him to buy me a drink, in that club or any club, I hated it and I wouldn't do it.
Jenny was putting the drinks down, smiling at the two men and introducing me. "Jeff, Rich, this is my best friend, Rachael. I thought maybe she could sit with us." She was giving them her best smile and they nodded quickly.
"Oh yeah, sure. Hi Rachael, hi..." They were both talking. "Any friend of Jenny's...hahaha."
"Hi, guys!" I smiled too, we were all so happy! I sat down next to Jeff, while Jen sat down next to Rich, the guy who'd gotten the lap dance, so they were between us.
"You men be nice now, because Rachael doesn't work here, okay? She's just paying me a visit because I haven't seen her in so long!" Jen's eyes were laughing as she looked at me.
"Oh, uh sure." Jeff looked at me anew. A moment before they'd been staring at me like I was a roast beef sandwich, thinking I was a dancer, now it was like I was someone different entirely, someone they might actually have a chance with. "So what do you do, Rachael?"
"I'm a student, college. How about you guys?" Jeff and Rich were from Kansas, they worked for Boeing, which I guess has a factory there or something. Anyway, it was nice knowing where they were from, because I was going to be from someplace else, no matter what.
They were nice enough though, Jen was right about that. Late 30's the both of them, a little waistline, but not bad. Nice faces, not remarkably handsome, but they didn't hurt the eyes either. We all made small talk, me playing the innocent to Jen's lewd innuendo, but that was part of her job, keep them horny and they'd keep spending money. Jeff bought me another coke and did a little touching, but not much, just a hand on my bare thigh every now and again, or on my hand, my wrist, when he made a point. Jen and the other dancers were off limits, but not me, although I had no doubt Rambo and Greg would come running if I needed them.
Remarkably enough I did find myself relaxing and enjoying myself. Jeff and Rich were funny when they were a little drunk and they made a good team. I found myself sitting closer and closer to Jeff, leaning in to hear his deep voice over the music and looking into his eyes every now and again, trying to figure out what color they were in that soft lighting.
Jen announced she needed to go change so she could dance the next set. Candy was just finishing up hers and Jeff gave me a ten dollar bill. "Why don't you go give her a tip for us, Rachael." I smiled and nodded, going to the stage and smiling up at Candy. She moved closer so she was right in front of me, squatting down and smiling as she thrust her shaven pussy towards my face. It was sweet and pink, with a little gold ring through the hood of her clit. Her lips were hanging out a little and I licked my lips.
There was a narrow table top, like a long counter, that ran completely around the stage for customers to put their drinks and money on. I sat on a stool and turned around, so my back was to it, folded the 10 dollar bill in half height-wise so it was long and stiff and put it between my teeth. I leaned backwards, so my head rested on the stage itself and looked up while the guys around us clapped and whistled. Candy danced around me a moment and then turned to show her tight round ass as she lowered her pussy to my mouth. The lovely Venezuelan rubbed between her legs as she made a show of almost, but not quite, touching my mouth with her cunt, then she took the money between her fingers and stood back up slowly.
I seriously thought she was going to rub me, but she was such a tease. I think she was waiting for my tongue too, and when I sat back up we laughed at each other. Candy blew me a little kiss as I walked back to Jeff and Rich. They were all smiles, giving me a little applause and I giggled and gave them a little curtsy. I sat back down, between them this time as we waited for Jen to come out. They were both grinning and it wasn't long before I felt a hand on each of my thighs, Jeff on my right and Rich on my left.
"You looked pretty comfortable giving that girl her tip." Rich said and I nodded, laughing.
"Yeah, she's my sister."
"Really?" He asked me, and his warm gentle hand moved a little higher, slipping down towards the inside a little.
"That's what people say." I looked at him, smiling and spreading my legs a little because Jeff was doing the same thing with his hand. "What do you think?"
"I think I'd like an invitation to your next family reunion!" Rich chuckled and leaned closer, whispering in my ear. "You're the hottest girl in here."
I gave him a little look, cocking my head like 'Yeah right.' but instead I just laughed at him. "How much have you been drinking?"
"Too much!" Jeff suddenly jumped in and his mouth was next to my ear too. "How come you don't dance?" He asked me.
"Because I want to be able to leave when I feel like it."
"Do you feel like leaving?" Jeff squeezed my leg almost hard enough.
"That depends on where you want to go." I put my hand on his leg then, giving him a little sly grin.
"What about me?" Rich asked and his fingertips brushed over my panty covered slit.
"What?" I looked back and forth at them. "Are you guy’s Siamese twins or something?"
"Huh?" Jeff looked momentarily confused and it made me laugh.
"Well, no." Rich admitted, obviously figuring he was going to get left out of whatever was going to happen. He looked decidedly unhappy right then.
"That's too bad." I gave the lump in his trousers a squeeze. "I hate making decisions."
"Uh, oh...well..." He saw a ray of hope. "So where are we going?"
I looked at Jeff and Rich looked at me, then he looked at Jeff. I laughed. "You guys, behave now, Jen's gonna dance. And tip nice, huh? She needs some new shoes."
I massaged both of their cocks through their pants while they played tiddlywinks on my pussy. It felt pretty good and I was damp by the time Jen was finishing her first song. She smiled at us and wagged her finger when she saw they'd just about pulled my skirt around my waist in their enthusiasm. Rich gave me another 10 dollars to tip Jenny with, but I shook my head.
"Uh-uh, your turn!" I laughed at him and he grinned, walking up to the stage and Jenny pulled her panty away from her pussy so he could slide the folded bill across her slit. Then she pulled his head close, whispering something. Jen danced away and Rich came back chuckling.
"What did she say?" Jeff asked.
"She said we should take Rachael someplace and, uh..." He glanced at me and decided to just say it. "And fuck her brains out."
"Oh? Did she?" I made a little face, like 'yikes!' and giggled.
"She said you if uh, resisted, we're supposed to tie you down and rape you." Rich went on, looking both nervous and excited at the same time.
"You guys ever raped a girl before?" I looked from Rich to Jeff and back again, shaking my head and laughing. These guys didn't look like they could even hurt my feelings.
Rich and Jeff looked at each other.
"Well, I'm not going to just let someone fuck my brains out, so...sorry guys." I got up, giving them both little pats on their thighs and smiling at Jenny as she watched with her legs wrapped around the pole in the center of the stage. "You guys change your mind, you might catch me before my bus gets here…otherwise…" I shrugged.
“Aw, don’t take off. We’re just getting started.” Jeff held my wrist, not to tightly, just enough to slow me down as I started getting up.
“Yeah, why do you have to go, Rache?” Rich still had a hand on my thigh.
“I gotta get my beauty sleep, guys.” I smiled. “I’m gonna be a movie star.”
“You don’t need any sleep, girl, you’re fine the way you are! Come on, just wait for your friend, okay? Have another drink.” Rich pushed me back gently and I hadn’t really been totally decided on leaving anyway, so I gave in.
It was fun teasing those guys though and they were so vanilla I could do or say just about anything I wanted and get away with it. If I’d told a guy like Paul, my erstwhile boyfriend, that stuff about raping me…he’d have made me pay for it. Hard. And that thought had me glancing back at the bar and the telephone hidden beneath it. But no, I wasn’t gonna try and track him down. He’d have to come back to me this time, I’d decided. It was his turn, not mine.
“So what’s this movie star thing, Rachael?” Jeff asked me while Rich waved for a tall blonde named Lisa.
“Ah, I don’t know.” I fluttered my hand a little. “Some porn thing Jen talked me into.” I smiled a little to myself, still getting used to the idea that I was gonna be in a porn flick. “You guys like porn?”
“Hey, ummm another pitcher and a…what are you drinking, Rachael?” Rich was ordering from Lisa.
“Yeah, porn, that’s always good.” Jeff was nodding, but it didn’t look like he really believed me.
“Just a coke, with like 8 cherries in it, kay?” I smiled at Lisa and she nodded. I didn’t really know her, she was pretty new. Turnover with the girls was always high, except for a few like Jen and Candy who found a place they liked and stuck with it. Girls like Lisa were just passing through maybe, or always looking for the bigger better deal, the BBD that was always around the corner.
“Sure, honey.” She gave Rich her come-fuck-me-smile hoping for an extra five when she came back with our drinks.
“Yeah, it’s called um…” I had the card in my purse and I dug it out, squinting at the words Jen had written on the back. “Coed Debutantes.” I shrugged and handed the card to Jeff while Rich leaned across me, trying to see what we were talking about.
“Huh.” Jeff nodded and turned the card over, looking at the front of it. “Bound For Glory Productions, eh?”
“BFG?” Rich asked and he took the card from Jeff’s fingers. “I got a couple of their DVD’s, pretty hard core.”
“Really?” I looked at him. “What do you mean hard core?”
I didn’t know anything about porn except the old VHS movies my father had hidden in his closet when I was little. He’d just had two of them and they were pretty tame, old 1970’s movies, and I’d thought they were kind of boring when I’d watched part of them, fast forwarding mostly. But I’d only been like 11 or 12 and the idea of sex, even kissing, had still been sort of gross for me back then.
“Like extreme, you know? Ummm…” Rich wasn’t sure he wanted to tell me what sort of porn he liked, I thought, or maybe he was shy with his friend listening in, I didn’t know. “Kind of rough sex, fisting and stuff like that.”
“Fisting?” Jeff glanced at me, blushing just a little and I smiled and rolled my eyes.
“So you like that stuff, huh?” I gave Rich’s cock a squeeze just as Lisa was coming back with our drinks. He was hard as a rock. “There might be hope for you yet!” I giggled and let him go, ignoring the look Lisa was giving me.
Some girls didn’t like having someone like me around, figuring I was stealing time from the girls who had to work there, and time was money. Attention was money, and while I was squeezing the cocks of these two guys their attention wasn’t being spent on Jen, who was dancing to her second song, or Lisa, who was hustling a tray on her 5” spikes for a couple bucks in tips. She had a point, but Ken liked me cause I kept the boys in their chairs while Jen danced, and kept them drinking, which was always good for business. Lisa might lose a few bucks, but the club didn’t, and that was the bottom line.
“Hey, give her something extra…” I bumped shoulders with Rich, giving him a playful giggle. I didn’t know if it would lighten the girl up, but Rich dropped another five spot on her tray. “Now how about something for Jen?”
I was being a little pushy, maybe, but she was finishing her second song and it was a light crowd. The guys didn’t seem to mind though and it was Jeff’s turn, so he flashed me a smile and got up slowly, playing with the twenty in his hand. That kind of tip would get him a little taste of sugar, I thought, and we watched as Jen gave the man directions, squatting over his face finally so he could hold the money in his teeth and rub the green against her bare slit.
“So, uh…You like fisting and, er…stuff like that?” Rich asked me while we watched his friend. It was sort of cute the way he asked, a little shy, a little embarrassed maybe. It wasn’t the sort of thing he would normally talk about with a woman I was sure.
“I like extreme, yeah.” I shrugged. “You ever fisted a girl?”
“Me?” He blinked at me. “No, um…No.”
“But you want to, huh?” I laughed, trying to imagine this guy doing anything like that.
Rich licked his lips and then remembered he had a fresh pitcher of beer, pouring his glass full and drinking half of it quickly. “Yeah, I do.” He was looking at me like he’d just asked a question and I ignored it.
“You have big hands.” I took his left hand in both of mine, holding it in front of my face like I was inspecting it, turning it this way and that. “You know what they say, right?”
“Uh, what’s that?” He grinned, relaxing again after I hadn’t bit his head off for asking me about being fisted.
“Big hands…” I kissed his palm and then licked it with the tip of my tongue so his fingers curled a little, “…big cock.”
“Hey, what’s going on?” Jeff was smiling as he plopped down next to me, reaching for his beer.
“Just comparing hands.” I laughed. “How big are yours?”
“Huh?” He looked down at his left hand. “I dunno, why?”
“Nevermind.” I shook my head.
“You’re kind of crazy, aren’t you?” Jeff laughed at me.
“A little, yeah.” I nodded, taking a drink of my coke and sucking one of the cherries between my teeth, rolling it around in my mouth.
“Here, feel this…” Rich had unzipped his pants and he pulled my hand to his crotch so that I could reach inside.
“You’re gonna get me in trouble.” I said seriously, and it wasn’t far from the truth. Rubbing a guy was fine and dandy, but stroking flesh was something else entirely.
“Nobody can see, come on…See how big it is…” Rich insisted and I was just loose enough and bored enough to do it.
I worked my hand through the fly of his trousers and felt around, getting my fingers and then my hand under his boxers so that I could feel the heat of his hard cock in my fist. He was thick and heavy and my fingers wouldn’t go all the way around him.
“You are big!” I giggled and I jerked him off slowly, trying not to look to obvious about it.
“Hey…” Jeff had unzipped his pants too and obviously if I was going to do his friend, it wasn’t but a little step doing Jeff as well.
I had my hands around both of the men’s cocks while we watched Jen dance her third and final song of the set, and they were both getting wet as hell. Precum was running down over my fingers and both of the guys were breathing hard, leaning forward a little to cover what I was doing, and fighting to keep their faces straight. I was jacking them good and it wasn’t going to be long before they were cumming, which was going to be a real mess. But if they didn’t care, I didn’t care. I thought it was sort of funny, actually.
“Hey, sis.” Candy popped by, giving me a little shake of her head. “Doris is watching.”
I peeked over at the bar and Doris was watching, leaning back with her arms crossed. But she was smiling too, which meant she was just annoyed, not pissed, but that could change, especially if Ken came out of his office. It wasn’t that big of a deal really, except it was bad for business. Guys tipped more if their balls were full of cum or something, I don’t know. Or maybe one of the guys in there could be vice, although that was unlikely and it would have been hard to prosecute anybody for anything, considering I didn’t work there and I wasn’t hooking. Still, bad for business all around and I knew better.
“Sorry guys.” I said softly, letting go of their cocks and pulling my hands free. My skin was hot and sticky with their arousal and used a couple napkins, getting them wet with condensation from the pitcher of beer in front of us so I could wipe my hands clean, just a little.
“Ah shit, come on, don’t stop now…” Rich whined a little.
“Rachael, God…Let’s go someplace…” Jeff was saying. “Back to our hotel, we’ll have fun.”
“Sorry guys.” I repeated, giggling and drinking some more of my coke. “We go any farther and we’re gonna get kicked.”
“Yeah, but we can go to the hotel…” Jeff insisted and I shook my head.
“Come back with us, I’ll fist you. If you want.” Rich leaned close, whispering in my ear, his hand on my bare thigh squeezing me. “I can tie you up too…”
“Really?” I looked at him, wondering if he’d really have the balls for that.
You’d be surprised how many guys didn’t. It was different, tying a girl down and doing whatever you wanted to with her. I’d offered myself to guys before, men a whole lot more promising than these two, and more often than not come away from it disappointed. It always sounded like fun, but the reality of being ruthless and even brutal was in your face and frightening to a lot of people. Ruthless and brutal was what I’d want too, none of the kinder, gentler BDSM that most people saw in movies, or read about in books.
There was nothing safe, sane, or consensual about me and these guys didn’t even know that much.
“Do you want me to?” Rich countered.
“Want to what?” Jen asked, coming back to our table slightly flushed and smiling after her set.
“Rich wants to tie me down and do bad things to me.” I laughed and Jeff looked from to Rich and back with surprise written all over his face.
“Oh yeah?” Jen giggled, looking around the table. “Where did my drink go?”
“I’ll uh, I’ll get you another one.” Jeff signaled for Candy’s attention and Lisa was getting on the stage, the DJ pumping the crowd to get excited for the tall blonde.
“Well, I didn’t say bad things…” Jeff grinned, feeling a little confused I think.
“You should do it.” Jen nodded with a smile. “She’s been so uptight lately, Rache needs a good hard fuck.”
“Oh, have I?” I laughed at my best friend. “Thanks a lot, Jen.”
“She’s totally into bad stuff, don’t let her fool you.” Jen was leaning against Rich, who was between us, so she didn’t have to shout over the old Duran Duran song ‘Girls on Film’ that Lisa was dancing to.
“Is she?” Rich laughed, “Maybe you are too?” he looked at Jenny with raised eyebrows.
“Oh no, not me.” Jen shook her head speaking with serious conviction. “I’m a virgin.”
That made me snort Coca-Cola halfway up my nose as I tried to cough and laugh at the same time. “Oh yeah, she’s a nun. She just comes here for charity work.” I giggled. “Sorta like me.”
“Charity work?” Rich rolled his eyes. “You girls are a serious tease, you know that?”
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