A Stripper's Only Wish

"I was close to it," I admitted. "You look cheerful today."

"Yes I am. I have solved my problems. Rather I have stumbled upon the perfect solution. Once you have worked out a plan and have decided to apply it you can be happy. Why are you standing?"

"There is hardly space for two persons on that chair you are on," I said. She looked intently at me and then broke into a broad smile. She moved to the cot for that was the only place in the room for two persons to sit. I sat beside her and held her hand. We turned and faced each other and kissed on the lips. I was suddenly hot with desire. We kissed moistly. My hand went for the clasps of her blouse. Her hands came up to help but I told her firmly that the honour of undressing was mine. She chuckled coyly. I didn't have to bother with seven veils because there were none. She had no bra on and I assumed, wrongly as it turned out, that she had no knickers on too. I fondled her and she moaned, but I knew not whether it was from feeling or just a trained gesture of a professional.

She unbuttoned my shirt. 'My pleasure,' she said formally and then she pulled free the knot of my pyjamas. My pyjamas dropped.

"For a little man you are quite mighty," she said and chuckled. I was pleased that a specialist has confirmed my notion that nature has endowed me generously. This was probably what made me ignore the jibes at my smallness of build. I pulled her up and knelt and pressed my face to her soft abdomen. I undid her skirts and pulled them down. She had a lace knickers on, the one she removes last in her show. I pulled the elastic on the sides and then I pulled the elastic in front and peeped in. She chuckled again. Then I pulled the flimsy knickers down and she helpfully lifted her legs one after another to release the knickers. I threw it to one corner of the room.

She reached for her dress, and from a pocket pulled out a small square object. It was a condom.

"I did not expect you to have one," she said. She was correct. I pulled on the condom and was on her. We had our orgasms together. By gesture she asked me to wait and then she had another. This time it was not play-acting. We lay in a close embrace for how long I know not. She got up.'

"It is time to go," she said. She went into the bathroom. She sluiced water and then she came out still naked. She searched for her knickers but gave up the search after looking round briefly. She dressed. I sat on the cot with my legs hanging. She came in front and knelt and hugged me.

"Darling even in my dreams I never thought I will have a First Night," she said.

"Did you get that feeling?" I asked. She nodded vigorously.

"No wife on the First Night was ever treated with greater dignity, and consideration, and affection than I was a short while ago," she said. She hugged me, and we kissed. She opened the door and took a step out but came in again. "I have finally had my wish. For the first time in my life I have been treated like a person and not a commodity." We hugged for a long while. She then slipped out and was gone.

I closed the door and slumped on the chair mentally exhausted. Once again the accomplishment of something I have been dreaming about for years did not make my mood upbeat. I explored the consequences of my action and soon I was in a state of terror. What if she becomes pregnant condom notwithstanding? Maybe she pricked a hole in the condom through the flimsy plastic covering to trap me. For all one knew she must have been pregnant and this visit was just to implicate me. I recollected her words: 'I have stumbled upon the perfect solution'. It sounded ominous. Her sadness of the past week was because of her pregnancy and now she has found a perfect way out. Ruin, utter ruin stared me in the face. And what about AIDS? We kissed more with our tongues than with our lips—ample exchange of body fluids for the virus to find a new haven. I had no one to blame but myself. I got up and did a frenzied clean up. I pulled out the sheets and pillowcases we had laid on, and the dress I wore. I made a bundle of it and threw the poisonous filth outside on the veranda. I bathed as I had never bathed before. I put fresh sheets on the bed and lay down.

I woke to noises in the compound. I hurriedly got up to investigate this unusual event. I looked out of the window and almost collapsed when I saw a police van in front of the garage.

A moment's thought reassured me. What I did was extremely foolish and dangerous, but I had broken no law. Moreover policemen when coming to arrest wrong doers do not wait for their victims to finish their beauty sleep. A police raid under the immoral trade laws was the most likely explanation. I hurriedly dressed and went down. A police inspector was walking up the drive towards the van with two constables, but no prisoners.

"What's the matter inspector," I said. "I am a tenant in that room above the garage."

"A suicide. A regular feature of these types of lodgings," he said casually.

"Las Vegas Laila will dance no more," added a constable. I felt giddy. I had to hold the bonnet of the jeep to steady myself.

"Are you OK," asked the inspector.

"I'm all right now," I said, "how did it happen?"

"Hung herself from the ceiling fan," said the inspector. "She has left a note taking all the blame on herself. She has some class. She has a beautiful hand. See, this is her letter." The inspector took out a paper from his file and gave it to me.

Her writing was like print. This is what I read: 'I alone am responsible for this action. I beg the pardon of those whom I am inconveniencing. I thank Providence for making the last few hours of my life a very happy one. Good bye.'

"I am curious to know what happened in those last few hours. I can't imagine anything happening to her in hours, days, or months that could make her thank Providence for it," said the inspector. He got into the van with his constables and drove away.

I went back to my room and sat down and moped. A long hair was lying on the table. When I searched I found more. I found the condom foil under the cot. I picked it up. In one corner I saw the pair of knickers. I examined it. It was a delicate lacy stuff that revealed more than it concealed. For a moment I thought of preserving it, but better sense prevailed. I burnt it along with the hairs I had collected, and the condom wrapping.

Needless to say I vacated the room that very day, but I cherish the memory of Shamu. I often replay it from memory, and always with pleasure. The pleasure however is not unsullied. The only sadness is that during our belief relationship I had been so small-minded.