College Stripper Confidential

The brother was nervous. I decided to come clean. I said to him and the other three guys at the table, "Listen, this is my first night, and you are my first table dance. I'm a little nervous."

They loved it! They had me do table dances for all of them!

By the time I was done, I was pooped, and begged Rachel to take a break and sit by the bar for a bit. After that it was up on stage, then some more lap dances at other tables.

Eventually my first table called me back for more. They were so pleased to have broken my table dance cherry!

And so the evening ended at 1 AM. I'd gotten through it, I was exhausted, I'd had fun.

In the dressing room, Rachel said something that stuck with me. "Honey", she said, "That's a table of four guys who are going to go home and every one of those guys is going to jack off thinking of you."

"One of them was married."

"Well then, he's going to go home and screw his wife thinking of you."

I drove home and was wired. I had a glass of wine. Finally around 4 AM I frigged myself under my covers until I came. I barely made it to my 9 AM class, and all day I was dragging, but I felt exhilarated like I'd run a marathon.

And so it went. Three nights a week. I made great money. I managed to keep my grades up. My social life suffered a bit; I didn't have as much time to hang out with friends or to date. And I felt mysterious, like I was a spy or superheroine with a secret identity. A few times I saw students I knew vaguely in the audience, and also a few professors. They didn't seem to recognize me.

October rolled around, and we had a Halloween theme night at the club. I went as a sexy cat.

My life became very compartmentalized. I made friends with some of the strippers at work, but I didn't socialize with them outside work. Some of them were also in college, some weren't. Some were single mothers, which kind of blew me away. I know what everyone says. Strippers are all screwed up. They were sexually abused when they were kids, and this leads this to crave exhibiting themselves. Well, I wasn't. Some of them were a little screwy, some seemed fairly normal. The strip club was a fairly classy one, so all of the women were pretty attractive, and not older than mid-20s. I did suspect some of them were drug users, but they kept a wrap on it at work; the management was pretty strict about that.

In the end, it was wild, fun, naughty. I could release some inhibitions in a safe environment. I enjoyed showing off my body to men. I could be a play-slut. Was I demeaning myself by doing it? I didn't think so. In a way, it all seemed kind of silly, and if men wanted to give me money for what I was doing, so be it. I enjoyed turning them on, but I wasn't going to have sex with them. I could be a bit of a tease, and get paid for it.

Most of the men were actually pretty respectful, and weren't taking it too seriously. There were occasionally some weirdos, but, the bouncers kept them at bay. I did get customers trying to get me to go on a date with them, but, I'd had that as a waitress as well, I got pretty good as nicely deflecting them. Some of the bartenders and bouncers would hit on me as well, but I just sort of rolled with it.

In late November, I was going to stay on campus for Thanksgiving, but my mom begged me to come home. I decided against flying, so I drove the 600 miles. At Christmas time, I'm flying, I decided.

Thanksgiving was nice, a big dinner at the house of my aunt and uncle. My mom and dad, my brother, surviving grandparents, and my cousins were there. Everyone asked how school was going. I told them it was going well. And that I was working part-time as a waitress. Smiling inwardly the whole time at my secret. If they only knew!

Friday night, the day after Thanksgiving, my neighbor Mr. Johnson was out walking his dog. When I was in high school, I used to baby-sit for his kids. He was an attractive older man, and I always thought that he found me cute. At times he'd look at me a little lecherously. I didn't mind too much, because he'd never do anything untoward.

Tonight, I walked down the driveway to greet him. "Hi, Mr. Johnson!" I said.

He grinned. "Hello.... Samantha."

I felt a jolt go through me like my heart had skipped a beat. My neighbor knew my stripper-name! And I know it's a ridiculous overreaction, but my bladder let go, just a little. There was a little squirt of moisture as I literally peed my panties in fear.

Gulp!

TO BE CONTINUED...