Ardmore Pt. 02

So it began with me working two nights a week for 2-3 contracts a night. I would arrive at the club at around five-thirty, shoot the breeze with Albert, get my dispatch sheet from the night manager, then pick up the women there, or logistics (and them) permitting, pick them up at some other designated location.

The first couple of weeks were like being a diabetic in a chocolate factory. Every one of Rui's ladies was exceptional. Even the ones I had initial reservations about looked alluring once they began stripping. I might not have felt like flirting during our travels but my hand was working overtime for my libido when I returned home.

While nothing was said during or preceding their performances, the ladies were normally quite talkative in the car at the end. Inevitably I started to open up some in order to get to know them. However, so much of what I knew about strippers was third hand, so I was wary of getting too familiar or trying to establish any real friendships.

Most of my stereotypes about dancers evaporated as I got to know them. My passengers were mainly single women and working mothers. There were young girls fresh from the hills of Tennessee as well as glamour queens from the boroughs of New York. These women were former file clerks, servers and housewives; a fair share were college graduates. My first real find was Serena, the woman I had seen earlier in Rui's office.

Serena said she was an associate professor at Temple in clinical psychology. Her dancing was merely a means to earn a down payment for her house. I was a bit skeptical. Dancers have notorious reputations as liars. Forget used car salesmen, no one can lie as convincingly as a stripper. I felt a little guilty afterward, but I did look for Serena's office the next day at school. I had to know if she were telling the truth about being on the faculty. She was.

Our shifts overlapped on Friday night, so we saw each other only once a week. When we did meet she clued me in on many of the ladies in addition to their significant others. Her observations were so insightful that my papers for the course were peppered with her sayings, insights and even her sarcasm.

Serena was running an unofficial counseling service for the ladies. While she wouldn't directly breach confidences, she was a wealth of information about their backgrounds and habits. For instance, in order to avoid misunderstandings it was beneficial for me to learn quickly about the various boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, and sugar daddies associated with the ladies in my care. I began to tread very lightly around several women because of Serena's insightful warnings.

From Serena I also came to understand that regardless, dancers were all just people looking to make a living. I would never be able to determine how many really enjoyed what they were doing. Undoubtedly, they all got off on teasing the customers, that was a prerequisite; but most of the ladies I talked to were clear from the beginning that this was a job, and a well paying job at that.

One unforeseen phenomena were the significant number of girl on girl relationships I witnessed. Here these women were exposing themselves to drunken horny males night after night, trying their best to titillate and separate them from their money, yet when the work was done, they returned home to the arms of another woman.

Research said that women in prison often sought out lesbian relationships, even though over 90% had children on the outside; and the girl on girl inclinations mainly dissolved upon release. Was there something inherent in dancing (or stripping) akin to the mindset of imprisoned women? I would write about that in my next paper.

Of course there were a number of unattached women too, but they were in the minority. Mostly the dancers seemed to need at least one close relationship. Regardless of status, flirting for all of them was an art form, an art form to be practiced at every opportunity.

Unfortunately, my very presence qualified me as a perfect practice dummy. I picked up on that early on and learned to flirt defensively. It was harmless as I had no intention of seeing any of them outside of work, yet the sexy banter took some of the edge off me seeing them strip.

After a couple of months I settled into a routine. My hours by then included working on Thursdays. In the process of getting to know my job as well as the ladies, most of my fantasies had faded away. The first woman to exit my erotic dreams was Bunny.

Bunny was a twenty year old from Idaho. A two year veteran, she was one of the sweetest women in the club, and the most naïve. She stood about five four and was a redhead with a freckled complexion who carried a few pounds over the 'model' category. She had the sensual pudginess of a Marilyn Monroe.

Her act was simple made arousing because of her lush body. She began in a cowgirl costume that she discarded in the rawest sexual manner leaving only her bare breasts and g-string. If ever one saw a woman who jiggled an enticement, it was she. What caught your attention was the way her hips moved as she walked. It was worth the price of admission.

Having been with her out on half dozen outings, I knew her act by heart. One night she decided to enhance to her show by introducing a bullwhip. I noticed it as we began our first gig but thought it was a prop. Well, that guess proved as naïve as Bunny's intentions.

The venue was a going away party at a VFW lodge. The crowd was enjoying Bunny like I knew they would. When it came time to release her skirt she unraveled the whip and cracked it at our guest of honor seated in the center of the floor.

The popper landed a few inches from his family jewels. You could hear a collective groan escape from every male in attendance. Even I, stunned by the gimmick, unconsciously moved to protect my privates. Whatever Bunny's motive, the trick was a huge mistake. The crowd said it, and I told her as much when we re-entered the car. I thought she agreed, but with Bunny that light did not always come on behind her eyes.

That should have ended it, but the whip made reappearance at our next contract, a birthday party at the client's home. Bunny was determined to crack the damn thing in the family room.

Who does such a thing? How does someone come to think of such as a good idea? Hell, this wasn't like New Coke versus Classic Coke; this was a genuinely dumb idea.

And it had disastrous results for one of the client's chairs. Better the chair than the client. The client was in word, livid, and asked us to leave immediately.

Come Monday morning I cut class in order to see Rui. My sole purpose was damage control. Xanadu formally opened at 11am but the staff was on hand when I arrived a little before 10am. Rui was upstairs in his office.

Though I only encountered a handful of employees, everyone appeared to be smirking as they greeted me. Obviously they were aware of our little fiasco Saturday. I had had the remainder of the weekend to see the humor in what happened. Rui had not. It showed. The man was completely devoid of humor or empathy. His pronouncements were short, blunt, and irrevocable.

Bunny was suspended for a week and would be paying for the damages. In addition, to further appease the client, he had offered a free getaway weekend in New York complete with tickets to 'A Chorus Line', also compliments of Bunny. As for me, I faired better, getting in essence the fool of the month award for allowing it all to happen.

I knew the trick was wrong yet I stood by. Rui said the ladies needed strong male guidance from time to time. My job was to provide that guidance. Forget my age; the ladies would listen if I spoke up forcefully. We were lucky he interceded with the client after our mishap. In the future there were to be no bullwhips of any type!

When the meeting was over I headed downstairs to the employee break room.

Rui prided himself on having not only the best dancers in the city but also one of the most exclusive restaurants. In some circles he was better known for the cuisine than the bodies on display. To some, the decision to serve food and fine wines may have cost him business, for Pennsylvania law prohibited full nudity in places that served alcohol.

The break room was down the hall from the kitchen and looked more like a restaurant than a lounge. We ate as well there as the guests in the restaurant. I wasn't hungry though, my mouth was dry from the session with Rui. I was more in need of a glass of water. I found Serena seated at one of the tables reading the Wall Street Journal. She barely acknowledged me as I plopped down in front of her.

"Still trying to determine when to buy?" I said, wistfully.

"Soon. Carter is surely going to force up interest rates. Naming bubba Lance head of OMB is unnerving the capital markets. I better buy in soon while I can afford to."

"How can you say that? He's only been President for what, a month?"

She looked up with a pensive expression, and then returned to her paper speaking to me with her eyes steady on the page. "Did Bunny really use a bullwhip in the dining room?"

I took a deep breath. "No, of course not", I said, pausing for effect. "It was the family room."

We shared a good laugh at that, though my line of vision went to the hallway in case Rui might suddenly appear.

"That girl lacks common sense sometimes. But I thought better of you. How did you let her do that?"

"How was I supposed to know? She caught me off guard. I thought it was a prop."

Serena really lost it when I said that. I noticed that several of the other ladies in the room were laughing too. What could I say? I screwed up. Serena, seeing me exposed, changed the subject.

"David, you placed out of freshman math didn't you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Dee Dee here needs a tutor for her G.E.D."

A petite brunette was enjoying a cigarette one table away. She walked over and offered her hand before taking a seat with us.

I was a bit ambivalent at that moment and could have refused; but the request came from Serena so I felt an obligation. She should have known that being a math geek had nothing to do with my being a tutor. Anyway, there was no harm being open to help her.

Dee Dee and I had pleasant conversation as I came to understand her challenges. She was friendly enough and desperate for help. That left me little wiggle room. After having been partially the cause of Bunny's fine, I was feeling remorseful and in no mood to accept payment from Dee Dee. What I thought was a reasonable gesture of free assistance was immediately declined. We haggled for a while until I accepted $ 20 per session.

I worked with Dee Dee until the beginning of summer. It took some doing, but she eventually mastered the algebra and geometry problems in the text books. She wasn't a natural at math but she did work hard. The only downside was her girlfriend.

Dee Dee originally suggested we hold the sessions in her apartment. However, she failed to mention her roommate. I knew something was amiss when I met the woman. I offered my hand and she looked at it like I had the plague. Needless to say, my verbal greeting went unanswered too.

I thought Dee Dee must have been expecting that, for she merely shrugged off those insults. I decided not to make a big deal of it. My host would surely say something if the hostility escalated. Besides, her smoking was also causing me some discomfort.

After the second session I had had enough. The other woman was making a habit of casually coming into the room where we were working and glaring at me for minutes at a time. If she were trying to make me uncomfortable she was succeeding. Her actions were downright creepy.

Our remaining sessions were held at Temple's library in one of the study rooms. That assured us both a measure of privacy and me some escape from her smoking. How her girlfriend dealt with that I would never know, nor did I ask.

When she passed her G.E.D. I was as happy for Dee Dee as she herself. The next day she told everyone at work that I had made it possible. It was her accomplishment so I tried to downplay my role while emphasizing how hard she had worked.

Those study periods with Dee Dee were exhilarating and I missed them. I mean, I really missed them. Somewhere during the process I realized that I enjoyed helping someone achieve a goal they thought previously unreachable. I enjoyed being part of her learning process, of watching the light go on when she solved a problem. Nothing had given me as much pure satisfaction and fulfillment as those brief periods each week. It was a fortunate thing too, for having that outlet helped sustain me when I had my second mishap on the job.

It was only a couple of weeks into my tutoring of Dee Dee when it happened. I don't know if Rui was purposely testing me or if it was purely accidental, but my assignment for the eighth week involved carting around the Delancy sisters. That experience almost ended my employment.

Crystal and Summer danced as a pair. They billed themselves as sisters but that was for show. Their behavior was hardly sisterly. A few minutes in their company and I knew they got off on graphic displays and that they had very little self-control.

Crystal was blonde, tall and willowy with a porcelain complexion. Summer was slightly shorter, had dark brown hair and was in possession of a tight body with a perpetual tan. Part of their attraction was their casual access to the other's body.

Together they were talkative, flirty, and crude; neither knew how to keep their hands off the other, nor off anyone else in close proximity; I learned that the first time out when Crystal playfully grabbed my crotch as I held open the car door. I acted the stoic and removed it without a word but this only encouraged them. I could see them snickering through the rear view mirror as we pulled off so I continued to ignore them.

During the first gig I was on guard as both made a point to rub their hands across every male organ in the room. The guys, mostly firemen, who were there for a bachelor party, took the girls' actions in stride. I knew we had stayed on the right side of the line when I saw the generosity lavished on the two.

The next contract was a divorce party for a 30-something. Our client was the soon to be ex sister-in-law of the guest of honor. I was curious to dig into their story, but something told me I would have my hands full with my own ladies. For whatever reason, the Delancy's were psyched for the show.

Earlier they had donned various poses as they pretended to be going down on one another. At this party they weren't pretending. Crystal crawled backwards into our guy's lap grinding her ass into his obvious erection. As she leaned back, Summer crawled near; removed Crystal's g-string and spread her labia.

It took me a moment to recognize that someone, probably Summer, had turned off the music. You could have heard a fly fart. As Summer's tongue made contact with her bald pussy Crystal lunged and our guy grunted. This was no act. Summer was feasting on Crystal with vigor. While initially in shock, I was becoming more nervous by the second.

I surveyed the faces in the room and made an estimate of my options. If I stopped their act now, a fight would be inevitable. If I let it go and our client re-appeared the law might be called. I opted to do nothing and let the situation play out. As I was pondering next steps Crystal came.

The guys went nuts. There were hoots, applause, and numerous high-fives being passed around. I was relieved that the hostess remained absent. The Delancy's were only beginning their slide into the illegal. The kicker came when Summer unzipped our hero and proceeded to blow him while his friends urged her on.

I kept an eye out hoping that no one else would press for the same attention. Truth was, I was more concerned that the ladies might themselves solicit services. Simulated sex acts between dancers were frowned upon. Sex with a client was absolutely forbidden. This obviously did not bother Summer. She achieved her goal in record time as the stunned guest of honor came with a roar.

As she ran off towards the bathroom after getting a mouthful of cum, I continued to stand immobile so as not incite the crowd further. Technically our time was up so I nodded to Crystal once her partner left the room. She at least seemed to know we were treading illegal ground. She put on her g-string and left in search of the hostess. It was her prompting that got us out of there quickly.

In all, we were a good twenty minutes late leaving that party. Fortunately, it was the last contract of the evening. The 'sisters' were laughing as they took seats. I had had enough. They had put all of us in jeopardy by their antics. I quickly started the car moving us into traffic.

Several blocks later we were on the expressway. It was a little after 2am and the traffic was slight so I slowed down. A quick peek in the rear showed Summer removing a small vial from her purse. That's all it took.

"That better not be what I think it is. If it is I'll drop you bitches off at the nearest police station." My voice was as menacing as I could make it. Crystal immediately took up the gauntlet while Summer continued trying to laugh it off.

"Listen Davey, that's your name isn't it? Just fuckin' drive. Don't speak to us, better yet don't speak at all, you're not paid to speak."

I jerked the car over to the right and into the emergency lane bringing it to a quick stop.

"Get the fuck out," I shouted. I heard some giggling so I turned fully around facing Crystal.

I looked only in her eyes as mine became slits. "GET THE FUCK OUT NOW!!" I screamed, so loud that her partner shook in response. I moved as if unbuckling my seat belt, "Get out or I'll throw you out."

"You're crazy! I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait for the cops", she shouted back.

"Fine bitch", I spat as I once again put the car in gear. She was right. Stopping on the highway would attract the police; so I drove off the Montgomery Avenue exit and into Fairmont Park.

Fairmont Park is the largest imbedded city park in the world. Fully one-third of Philadelphia is green acreage. I drove those two as deep into the park as I could, looking for a more isolated place where we could reason together.

When I found the spot I pulled off the road and stopped. The door was opened in a flash. Crystal must have thought I wouldn't put my hands on her. She was mistaken. I pulled her from the car easily, picked her up and deposited her in a field about thirty feet away.

She did try to put up a fight but, well, the hold I had her in left few options to stop me. I made sure her ass hit the ground first. Then I went back to get her partner. Summer was already out of the car cowering at its side.

"Get the fuck over there."

She complied without speaking. As she did I walked backwards to the car for a few feet, turned and then strode to my seat. "You bitches can get home on your own. I'm done with you."

It was Summer who found her voice first. Suddenly she was the leader. I should have foreseen that before. I made a note to be more careful next time.

"No, you can't leave us here. You can't."

I started up the car and moved it away from them, then stopped.

"Leave the drugs NOW. I don't see them on the ground in three-seconds and I'm gone."

Crystal went in her purse and threw something on the ground. She grabbed Summer's bag and they tussled for a second, then I saw her grab another object and that too went on the ground. She started running for the car. Summer, perhaps realizing she might be left behind, started running too. As soon as their door closed I took off, but not until I got out one more warning.

"I suggest you hug those seats without moving. And don't say a fucking thing, NOT A FUCKING WORD. You do and your asses will be walking home. This shit you pulled tonight will never happen again with me. We could have had a real problem with that last contract, a real fuckin' problem. Then you idiots decide to cap of the night off by getting high in my car. Un-be-fuckin-leavable."