The Best Erotic Stories.

Unforgettable
by Don Shows

This story was split into 7 parts. Jump to any of the segments from here:
1|2|3|4|5|6|7
Note: This story was originally submitted as one long story
and it was only broken into 7 parts for faster page loading.


The club was dark as usual and if not for the dim light of the candles on the twenty-five or so tables you would be stumbling into them trying to make your way to the bathroom. Each small round table had only two chairs and each covered with a white tablecloth, the laundry creases dividing it into four pie pieces. In the center of each sat one of those half-globed glass candles with plastic fish net around it. The wall were black, the only visible decorations were green lighted exit signs. To one wall you could visit the full length bar, shelves of various size glasses and bottles of liquor with the little chrome pour spouts and one middle aged bartender leaning on it, waiting for a sucker whose ear he could bend behind it. The stage was very small, no curtains or footlights, only a chromed floor to ceiling pole in the center. It was not really a stage but a plywood platform painted black, the paint worn thin letting the wood grain show through and marred from too many dancers in high heeled shoes. This was "The Club", not much more than it's simple interior implied. Just "The Club." Though it isn't much, the owner paid dancers nightly and tips were OK, depending on the crowd. It was never packed during the week and Fridays brought a not full but decent crowd, Saturdays were not much better. It was a start for dancers, experience towards the bigger show. A girl could polish a routine here and get used to being pawed by or learn to stonewall the drunks. The crowd was either middle-aged men in crises or young soldiers from the nearby army post, nothing a girl would take home to Daddy. Not visible to the unadjusted eye in the near dark but to the rear of the stage was the door leading to the sole dressing room for the dancers. There was only one tonight and grudgingly she agreed to do three shows, nine, ten-thirty and midnight. She sat on the black leather upholstered worn out piano bench in front of the mirror cursing herself for caving in to the owners whining plea to dance three gigs. Her shapely hips in thin pink thong and black fish net stockinged legs contrasted with her bare back and the old black of the bench. She was combing her hair and admiring her recently augmented breasts when the door opened and the bartender rudely announced that she had thirty minutes till first show. "Shit man, don't you ever knock?" She blurted back, covering her breasts view in the mirror. "Sleazy old coot," she thought to herself.

Once the door closed, she stood, once again admiring herself in the mirror. Her breasts were enlarged from a 34B to a 36C; she was much happier and even connived a raise to match the enlargement. She now truly curved down to a slim 28-inch waist and blossomed to a nice curvy 36 inch hips. She couldn't help but smile at herself as she slipped on her matching pink pushup, front clasp bra. She cupped the underside of each breast and gave them an extra fluff before reaching for her matching solid body suit, putting it on, and carefully zipping it up the front. Flipping her long blond hair back, she was ready except for deciding on music and routine. She never decided this until the last few minutes before going on stage, her mood being the deciding factor. Tonight, although happy with her firm dancers body, follow me hips and new breasts, she was dour, not wanting to be there but needing the extra money 3 shows and tips would give her. Her goal was to graduate to the bigger, better shows in Las Vegas or Reno. She loved exotic dancing and knew she would run her own club someday. For music her hand gravitated to Nat King Cole's Unforgettable and wanted to do her slow routine. It always brought good tips because she teased longer, give more breast view and became nude sooner. She placed the tape in the cassette deck and with ten minutes before show time, lit a cigarette.

Kurt leaned back in his chair, pushing himself away from the computer and stretched a long, deeply felt stretch, his arms pulling his chest and shoulders wide, the buttons of his white shirt straining. Releasing, he ran both hands through his short brown wavy hair. The ring finger on his left hand still had the imprint of the wedding band visible. The clock on his desktop showed eight forty-five in digital numbers and had been de-bugging code all day. He was ready to call it quits. Since the divorce 6 weeks ago he often worked late, turning down several offers to go out with CO-workers, simply wanting time to himself. He had not yet sorted out the divorce, brought about, he believed by the sudden death of his son. Neither he or his now ex-wife could seem to get over the loss and it now cost their marriage. At 28, single again, Kurt had no idea where he was going. Work provided the only diversion from his strong emotional setbacks. He often thought that perhaps he should seek counseling or maybe go back to school and complete his MFA in poetry. He wrote less now, believing his feelings would produce nothing more than dark verse but loved poetry. His BS was in Computer Science. This proved to be the only point in his life that felt like a complete stand still. Kurt lifted his six-foot frame from the chair and reached for his jacket. "Maybe I should go somewhere and unwind a little," he thought to himself. There was "The Club" down the street, he could have a drink or two and maybe spark a muse with a few nude dancers. Most of his poems were erotic metaphor which first captured the love of his wife. "Sure man, just a few drinks and like in the old days, looking at a little skin would be good for me." He checked to see that he had properly saved his code, shut down the computer and headed out the door, checking the alarm system on his way out. The Club was close and he could walk which would give him a chance to breathe some cooling, crisp autumn air, his favorite time of the year. This was the time of year they would stroll the baby in the early evening. These thoughts invaded still and he wondered again if maybe counseling was necessary. But for now diversion would help. Arriving at the plain wood door to The Club he opened it and entered, stopping for moment to let his eyes adjust to the impact of the darkness. Once sufficiently adjusted he made his was carefully, almost in a total sidestep to a vacant table near the stage and sat down. The rude flicker of the candle flame helped his eyes adjust a little better. A girl in black short shorts and white T-shirt approached placing a small napkin on the table in front of him. "Can I get you a drink?" her bored voice asked. Kurt looked up at her, past her legs to the shorts tight enough to outline her vagina, then to her braless chest before speaking to her expressionless face. "Sure, uh, I think a gin and tonic sounds good. And oh, an ashtray please." Without speaking she leaned over to an adjacent table, forward of Kurt whose eyes caught the outline of her breasts swaying freely, and retrieved a small ashtray, placing it next to the napkin. "Right back then," was her clipped reply. Kurt looked around himself, being better able to see now. There was a party of four young short haired soldiers to the right front of the stage and four or five other older men scattered amongst the tables. The waitress reappeared with the drink and placed it on the napkin, "That'll be $4.25 then." Kurt paid with a five, telling her to keep the change. She sauntered away flaunting her tightly bound ass as she went to another table to sway her breasts. "She would fall all over the place once she takes those painted on shorts off," Kurt thought, smiling to himself as he lit a cigarette. The gin and tonic tasted strong on the first sip but calmed down on the next. She pressed the pause lever on the cassette deck then depressed the play lever. A peek into the tiny view piece in the door gave a wide angle of the audience, what there was of it anyway. "Oh well, I just hope they have those one's and five's ready to stuff in my thong when I mingle." She turned on a light switch near the stereo then slowly rotated the dimmer switch. Over the stage, from the ceiling, beams of purple light illuminated the worn plywood. She flipped another toggle switch on a machine on the floor and a misty white fog began to cover the stage floor. Next she turned off the dressing room light, released the pause button of the tape deck and waited for her cue to step out onto the stage. Kurt's attention was drawn to the stage and the too loud voice coming from overhead speakers, "And now, The Club is proud to present it's own, lovely and very exciting "Kristi". The smooth, sensual voice of Nat King Cole came on as the stage door opened. "Un.......for........ge.....ta..ble.........."

Her stockinged leg appeared from the slightly opened door, flexed at the hip with calf and foot dangling in time to the slow ruminations of the music. A little higher, one white hand was caressing the black door jam. A few whistles from the group of soldiers rang out but the few remainders of the crowd silently watched or were not captivated yet. As the song progressed Kurt leaned forward on his table as Kristi slinked around the door, hugging it close. Her body suit was high cut at the hips showing each smooth white moon. He liked how they cupped at the bottoms and the black fish nets were just high enough on the thighs that a hand would fit nicely between the bottom of her cheeks and top of the stockings. Still not showing her face she slid down the door jamb, knees going wide as she lowered herself, keeping her pelvis close to the smooth wood. When she reached the bottom of her full squat she swayed her butt side to side, slowly to the mellow tones of Cole's words, holding on to the door jamb, leaning back as far as she could. Her hair fell straight back as she dropped her head back, her pelvis seeming to grind into the jamb. The fake fog was beginning to swoon and swirl and looked like it's wispy fingers were tickling her wide spread moon and nicely accessed center between them. Kurt watched her as she teasingly swayed her hips and wondered how she so expertly exposed the inside of her butt cheeks without showing anything else. "Sweet, real sweet butt," he formed the words with his tongue silently to himself. Kristi was beginning to stand back up, still hugging the jamb, but had moved one hand to her front. It couldn't be seen from the audience but she had reached up and was unzipping her body suit as she stood. With her back still to her audience she began to remove the suit, perfectly choreographed to un.......for.......ge.........table. "This girl could definitely make a door jamb hard," Kurt thought. He wished she would turn around so he could see her face. Instead she lowered one hand to the inside of her left thigh and began to slowly bring it up the center of her crotch, her abdomen then around to her back. She paused at the bra strap, teasing her audience. Her other hand took the clasp in front and unfastened it. More whistles and cat calls rose up from the soldiers as her bra straps fell neatly from her shoulders, then with the hand holding the back strap she pulled down and her bra was dropped to the floor. With a turn of her head she exposed half of her face to the audience, then with a smile and wink, turned and waltzed over to the chrome pole. The soldier crowd yelled but she paid no attention to them. Kurt kept his eyes totally on her. He was hypnotized by her near total nudity, bathed in purple light as she waltzed across half the small stage to the pole, the fog about her feet and ankles parting and swirling, her legs and hips moving to the tempo and her breasts barely moving at all. She had total control of her body, moving only the parts she wanted to. "This girl is a stone fox," Kurt thought. She was not only a great dancer but sleek and sexy in a controlled sort of way, she paid no attention to the audience but danced for them. By the way Kurt was watching you would think she were dancing only for him. He kept straying back to her breasts, their firmness and pertness, their perfect nipples and the effect the purple light had on them. They didn't bounce as she danced but swayed, very seductively, waving to him he thought. She reached the pole and clutched it, her body against it and her hands around it high above her head, a breast on each side, her body divided in half. She wrapped one leg around the pole, the cold of it slapping the skin of her thigh. Lowering an arm she began to remove the stocking, lifting her leg higher as the stocking got lowered. Removing it from her foot she lowered the leg, seductively running her hand up the inside of her leg to her crotch hiding behind the pole. The same hand went to her mouth and peeking around the pole she placed her index finger in her mouth and drew it out slowly as Cole sang, somehow an appropriate phrase. The same scene was repeated with the opposite leg. With stockings gone, her bare legs bathed in purple were magnificent. Kurt watched Kristi's every move, taking in her legs, abdomen and breasts. Her face was mostly hidden behind her hair and the pole. Kurt watched her moves and thought this was one sexy woman, not just her dancing but she was sexy. The choreography, the music, Nat King Cole's voice and her control were only additions to her sexiness. He brought his drink to his lips and sipped, never diverting his eyes from Kristi, sexily, metaphorically fucking the pole she had wrapped herself around. The Kristi's hands came down the pole and as they reached breast level she lowered herself into another full squat with knees wide, crotch firmly planted against the pole. She began to sway her hips once again, her crotch staying glued to the pole. Bringing her upper body in tighter, her right hand reached down and unfastened something at the side of her pink thong. Keeping the hand there she rode the pole back to standing and wrapped her leg back around the pole. Swinging herself around, her back was to the audience again. She switched hands and unfastened the other side of the thong. As she began to squat once again the thong came swiftly off and was tossed aside. Kurt gasped lightly. She was teasing him, her come hither ass waving to him as she slid down the pole, completely naked. Into a full squat again Kurt could plainly see between her spread hips her nicely trimmed pussy, stage fog swirling about it. Her butt and back bathed in purple light. He felt a gradual stiffening in his crotch and sat up, moving closer to the table. Kristi lowered her beautiful white bottom and sat on the floor. Raising one long slim leg straight up she crossed it over the pole, made a quarter turn, lowered the leg, bending at the knee and laid back. Her breasts stood above the fog looking like a mountain scene with the fog gathering around them. Kristi's hands moved up her abdomen to her breasts. She caressed them and Kurt could see her nipples hardening. He hardened right along with them. She then moved her right hand back down to her pubic mound as her hips began to gyrate in time to the music. This was getting very hot and Kurt took another long sip of his drink. Butterflies were beginning to dance about in his stomach. This girl was really turning him on with these erotic moves. She was talented, very talented. As the song was ending, Kristi came up to her feet, hand still on her crotch. Slowly she removed it, bringing it up her smooth tummy, between her breasts, then circling each stiff nipple before placing her finger in her mouth. She cocked her head shyly to her right shoulder and slowly drew the finger out between light pink sucking lips just as Nat sang the last refrain of un......for......ge......table.......youuuuuu. Whistles and applause arose from the sparse crowd, the soldiers standing and clapping, waving their dollars wildly. Kurt was sorry the dance was over. He wanted to watch her some more. Reaching to the pack, he pulled out and lit another cigarette. Producing a ten dollar bill from his wallet he laid it on the table. Kristi was busy collecting her costume pieces form the stage. She was careful not to bend over but stooped down to gather them up, whispered a sexy thank you and disappeared behind the door. The lights went down and the music changed to a more modern song. Kurt signaled the waitress for another drink. His stiffness was subsiding and he hoped he didn't have a wet spot on his khaki colored Dockers.

(next)

Send all comments about this story to Don Shows.

This story was split into 7 parts. Jump to any of the segments from here:
1|2|3|4|5|6|7
Note: This story was originally submitted as one long story
and it was only broken into 7 parts for faster page loading.

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