Strippers Are People Too

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Older guy receives a gift from two lovely exotic dancers.
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Note: this is a work of fiction. All the characters are fictional people. Guys, you cannot go to a gentlemen's club and make friends with the strippers. They are there to make a living, let them do it. Give them your money and go home. This kind of stuff does not happen. With that said, please enjoy this work of fantasy! Dream on.

I'll never forget the first time I met her. I had stopped by the (gentleman's) club for a few minutes in the afternoon on the way to work, and she was in the middle of her routine on the main stage. I got my coke and sat at the stage, the only customer to pay any attention to her. I was mesmerized by her tall slim body and her long legs. She wore only a plain white dress shirt and a white thong. She had straight shoulder length blond hair.

She came over to me and danced in front of me for a few seconds, then sat on the bar at the edge of the stage in front of me. She said her name was 'Heather' and asked mine. I told her, and then told her that there was something about her, something that was different from the other girls I'd met in there. She seemed interested and asked me to explain. I went on to say that I couldn't quite say just what it was, but that there was something about her, that I felt some sort of bond, or connection with her. I told her that I felt like I knew her, maybe it was the simple white shirt she wore, but I could tell she was not one easily impressed by glitz and glamour, and that she seemed like a person more into the simpler things in life, the comfortable and 'down home' parts of life.

She agreed and thanked me for my observations, then opened the last button on the shirt and showed me her tits. They were tiny mounds with small pert nipples. She was almost completely flat, but her nipples were pronounced, pink buds. She picked up a dollar from the bar and folded it between my lips, then leaned forward and used both hands to press her tiny mounds together against my face, clamping the dollar between them, then tossing it to the floor on stage behind her. She stood then, and tossed off the shirt. Her second song was beginning, and she danced along the stage, making her way back to me. She turned her back to me, then bent over and stripped her thong down her long, slim thighs, dropping the cloth on the stage and stepping out of it. She wore only some very high heels, and was looking at me upside down from between those long thighs that went all the way to heaven.

She stood and danced some more, then came back over to sit in front of me, and claimed another dollar. She asked if I'd like a couch dance when she got off stage, and I agreed. As her set was ending, she said she'd be right out, and went backstage. I went to sit at the bar and waited through the next song, then Heather came out the dressing room door. I watched her walk toward me. She had the lithe gracefulness of a cat, with her long slim body and long legs, accentuated by the tall heels she wore. The muscles of her thighs rippled with each step, the tightness of her body evident.

She perched on the bar stool next to me, crossing her legs. She was again wearing only the white shirt and a thong. She asked where I lived, and I told her the town about 75 miles south of there. She said she lived about as far to the north, and named the town. We talked comfortably, easily, and I learned that she was a single mom, 34, with a daughter who was 13. She had danced before at a couple other places, and had only started at this club two days earlier. It was getting close to the time I had to leave for work, so we moved on over to the couch for a private dance before I had to leave.

In this club, the couches were against the wall on one side of the room, and were nothing more than a padded bench with etched glass panels and a brass pole between them. Another low bench in front of each couch gave the girls a place to sit in front of their customer. We sat on the couch together and talked a bit more waiting for the next song to begin. When it did, she stood, tossing off the shirt, and moved between my legs, her back to me, then bent over and stripped off the thong. I was enthralled with her tiny ass and long slim back as she bent, and the tiny pink slit that appeared between her legs. She gave me the standard couch dance, gyrating in front of me, standing on the couch to rub her pussy over my face, raising a thigh and slipping her fingers through her folds as she held her pussy just above my face, just out of reach. She slid herself down my body then, and sat naked on my lap, her arms around my neck, bouncing herself up and down to fake intercourse, giving me a sly grin as she did it. Then she would lean back with her head against the small bench in front of me, her thighs open and her ass perched firmly against my crotch. She surprised me by stretching both legs out the each side, placing her feet on the brass poles at either side, that held the etched glass panels between the couches. Most of the dancers in there didn't have legs long enough to do that, and Heather seemed to take pride in the fact that she could touch both poles.

She held that position for a moment, letting me take in the view. It was truly incredible, her pussy was spread open right in my lap, not inches from my hardening cock, those long thighs stretched apart, the tendons at the top of her thighs tight. Her pussy lips were not quite opened, but I could see a slight moistness within the wrinkles. She then changed positions, now with both feet next to my shoulders she raised herself to hold her pussy right up in front of my face as if I were going to lick her. She made a point of sliding her thigh against my cheek as her pussy slid closer to my face. She stopped only an inch from my mouth making contact with her thin, wrinkled and slightly moist pussy lips. I exhaled, blowing warm air directly on her pussy. She sat back down on my lap, holding me for a moment as the song ended, signalling the end of our time together.

I had to get on to work, and we chatted as she dressed and collected her $20 for the couch dance. She told me her schedule and asked if I'd come back in to see her. I agreed, and she placed a soft kiss on my cheek, very near my lips, as we said goodbye.

Over the next several months, I found myself going back to the club several times a week, always to see Heather. Most times, she would be already sitting with someone else, and I would sit at the bar waiting. She would see me and excuse herself, and come over. Sometimes she would be walking around the room, and as soon as he saw me, it was like she 'lit up' and smiled, coming over to me as soon as she could.

Every day I was there, we spent about a half hour talking and most days went to the couch also. Each time her routine was nearly the same, and as we got to know each other better, her soft 'almost' kisses became more bold as we parted. When we talked, it was always about life, about beautiful things, places, and people. We talked about her family, her childhood, her daughter. One day she told me the story about why she's no longer married. She said that she and her husband had married young, and two years ago she had wanted to give him a special treat, every man's dream. She arranged for a threesome with her then best friend, and everyone involved enjoyed it immensely. Then later, she caught her husband and her friend together in bed without her, and she threw them out, and had been a single mom since then. The experience had devastated her, and left her cold and bitter toward her ex-husband.

I just assumed she was dating, since a young woman as beautiful as she was would naturally have guys lined up waiting for a chance to go out with her. One day I told her that I thought the man in her life was the luckiest man in the world, and she said if she ever found him, she'd let him know that. She claimed to have not been with a man since her husband. We talked about that, about how hurt she was and how bad it made her feel about herself to learn that her husband chose someone else over her. I tried to be reassuring, to comfort her and give her hope and strength, to help her see it was not her fault, and let her know how attractive she really was. It became obvious that her self esteem was lacking, and that her work was her way of hiding her true feelings.

As a dancer, her job was to make every guy feel like she wanted him, and to do that she had to put on a fake 'personna', a stage presence that was both appealing and seemingly vulnerable, while at the same time, hiding her true self deep inside. She could never let herself out, not the real person inside her heart, not at work anyway. At work, she had to maintain a hard shell that was impenetrable, but appear to be 'available' so her customers would be attracted and keep coming back to see her.

Many days, I would stop in to see her and we spent the whole time just talking. We shared pictures of our loved ones, she showed me her daughter's school picture, and I showed her pictures of my granddaughter. I felt like we were becoming true friends, since she confided in me about so many personal things. We talked about her mom, who had been diagnosed with lung cancer, and over several months, she would tell me how her mom was doing, that her surgery had gone well and she was much better. We talked about her brother, who had been killed in a car wreck a few years before, and how close they had been. Some days while we talked about personal things like that, I would see her eyes watering, as if she wanted to cry, but of course she could not let that happen at work. Some days we would just sit and quietly talk, then hold each other for a moment before I had to leave for work.

Some days I would stop along the road on the way up there, and pick wildflowers. I would put them into an empty soda bottle with water and bring them to her. The first time I did that, she very nearly cried. She said no one had ever brought her flowers before. She told me later she had taken them home and they were on the table next to the tv. Her daughter Jennie had even remarked how pretty they were.

Jennie was a softball player, and one day Heather told me that the following weekend, she and Jennie would be spending three days in the next town at a softball tournament. They had hotel reservations, since it was an hour and a half drive from their home, and Jennie had games all three days, friday, saturday and sunday. I told her I was going to be coming up to work that Sunday, and I asked if I could stop by the game and watch. She told me that there would be a game starting at 12:30 Sunday afternoon, and I was welcome to stop by if I wanted. She said she'd come over and talk to me, but she would not be able to hug me or anything, because no one from her town knew about her work. She said she was just the usual PTA mom, and no one knew she danced naked at a club. That's why she worked so far away from home.

That Sunday, I left home several hours early, and brought my digital camera. There were baseball games all over town, and I finally found the place where the girls were playing. I found Heather's car and knew I had the right place. I parked and went to the field. There were two fields with games going on, and fans in lawn chairs were lined up along the fence on both sides. I spotted her blond hair first. She did stand out in a crowd. She was sitting in lawn chairs with her brunette girlfriend named Kate who she had told me about before, and people lined up on both sides of them. I stood leaning against a wooden light pole next to the dugout and watched the game, looking to see if I could recognize Jennie. It wasn't hard to find her. Jennie was tall, very pretty, and a good player. She was one of the stars of the team. I looked over toward Heather and her friend a few times, and once she saw me and smiled. She didn't get up and come over though, and I thought that a little odd, but I didn't approach her because I didn't want to embarrass her in front of the other people. They wouldn't understand why some old guy would know her, and then questions would start flying. I know how small towns work, and I didn't want her to have to explain to anyone who I was.

The next time Jennie's team was up to bat, I moved out to the end of the fence to try to get some pictures of her playing. After a few players either struck out or got on base, it was Jennies turn to bat. I shot several pictures of her going up to the plate, taking the stance, and finally she actually got a hit, but it was a fly out. I moved over to the other side of the field to get a few more photos of Jennie playing third base, then as catcher. The game was finally called on time, with the other team ahead. Heather and Kate had gotten up to go to the porta pottie, and I took the opportunity to dissappear. I went on to work, and when I got home that night, while my wife slept, I printed some of the pictures from the game and hid them away in my briefcase.

The next week, I stopped by to see Heather and she immediately apologized for not having spoken to me. She explained that her ex was there, and she didn't want him to go psycho on me. I gave her the photos I had printed of Jennie playing softball. She looked through the folder of prints and was amazed. I had caught a set of three shots, of Jennie first using the bat to tap her shoes, then standing with the bat on her shoulder waiting for a pitch, and the final shot was Jennie swinging, with the ball a blur just inches away from the bat after she had hit it. There were a few other photos of teammates during the game. Heather hugged me tight, thanking me for the pictures, and very nearly cried. She said no one had ever done anything that nice for her.

We sat and talked for a few minutes before I had to leave for work. I explained that it was something I wanted to do for her, that she had made my life much happier just by sharing her life with me, and that I felt we were friends and that friends do things like that just because they want to. Before I left, she gave me one of those soft, gentle, 'almost' kisses on the lips. She went to show the pictures to all of her friends at work.

The next few times I stopped in, we talked and then went to the couch before I left. She would go through the usual routine, but an added feature was while she was standing on the couch straddling me, she would actually move close enough to slide the soft thin lips of her pussy across my nose. Not just once in passing, but she would slide back and forth, and finally I would find my nose between her pussy lips before she pulled away. She had to be careful about that, since that 'intimate' contact was not allowed. Of course, I had to leave my hands on the couch and not make any attempt to touch her. That would have brought the bouncer over immediately.

One day while we were talking at the club, I asked if she'd like to go fishing some morning before work. She didn't start work till 11am, so we made arrangements to meet at a small park not far up the road, toward where she lived. She would stop by along her way to work, and I would have to drive a bit farther than usual. Two days later, I was there at the park and had lawn chairs set up along the river bank when she pulled up. We hugged and she sat down next to me, and we sat and fished for about an hour. It was a wonderful warm summer morning, there was a nice breeze, a few clouds floating by, just perfect. Didn't catch anything, but we did have some time for quiet conversation, and she said she enjoyed it very much. She hadn't been fishing since she was 14, when she went with her dad.

After we got tired of fishing, we walked through the nature preserve next to the park. It had a boardwalk built over the foilage, and went out toward the river. We walked and chatted, warmed by the sun, a soft breeze wafting through the trees. We watched rabbits hopping around, squirrels gathering nuts, and frogs hopping. Once a snake slithered across the boardwalk in our path. Heather freaked out, and held onto me. It was a little garter snake, and I bravely protected her from it. It was a perfect ending for a perfect day together.

Next time I stopped in the club, Heather introduced me to a friend of hers, who called herself 'Angel'. This girl was simply drop dead gorgeous. Long wavy brown hair, the face of an angel, tall and slim like Heather, but this girl had huge, firm, perfect tits. Angel was very nice and friendly as we sat at a table and talked, just the three of us. I had a while before I had to leave for work, and the 'feature' came up. At this club, the feature was two couch dances for the price of one, if you first bought the featured item from their 'toybox', the little sales counter where you could get can coolers, lighters, cigars, hats or t shirts. This particular feature was announced as a cigar dance. For $25, you got a cigar and two couch dances. I had a wild idea, and asked both girls if they would like to do the feature with me before I left for work. They were delighted at the idea, and both remarked how much they enjoyed 'working together'.

Heather went to inform the bouncer that I'd be getting a 'double feature' and we all went to the couch. For two songs, the girls took turns rubbing over me. Of course Angel didn't let my nose touch her pussy as Heather did, but at one time both girls were face down away from me, one on top of the other, their legs straddling me and their asses both in my face. Another time they had my face sandwiched between both their chests. It was truly heavenly!

The summer turned to fall and then winter, as I continued to stop by and spend time with Heather a few times a week. She told me she thought about me often, and that she had kept all the things I'd given her over the time we had known each other. I sometimes brought her a small poem or some witty saying that I had printed out for her. She told me about the time in the fall when she and Kate had gone to visit her mom in another state, and they had gone to visit a tourist attraction called Clingman's Dome. It had an observation tower, where you could climb up and see for many miles over the beautiful wooded countryside. She told me she had gone up there and thought about me, knowing I would appreciate the beauty.

We talked at length about our relationship. She never once made any reference to me as anything but a friend, but I told her that it touched my heart when she told me that she thought about me sometimes. One time I told her that I thought if she and I were to ever find ourselves alone together in a room, we'd spend the time talking and crying, because we were that close of friends. I told her that I had been married to the same woman for 33 years and that I loved my wife, even though we didn't always get along very well. I explained that I was wise enough to know that my marriage would never change. I told Heather that even though I cared about her very much, I knew better than to think that she could ever feel anything romantic toward me, and that nothing could ever happen between us. She replied, saying that she knew what I was feeling, but that she always liked to think that anything was possible, and that she had learned a long time ago to never say never. I told her that my wish for her was to find someone she could love and who loved her, and they could be happy together forever. I told her I wished for her to find a young stud who cared about her as much as I did, or even more.

She once told me her favorite song was "running" by No Doubt. I made her a cd of that song, and several others that were also her favorites. Avril was another one of her favorite artists. Over the year I had known Heather by now, I had given her several different CD's of various compositions, with many of her favorites, and some love songs of my choosing. One was Rod Stewart's Great American Songbook, full of older love songs. She would tell me about how she liked to listen to my cd's as he drove to work and back home.

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