Dirty Girls: Tasha's World Expands

Tasha Nance was pushing 35. Single, never married, she told herself she lived as she pleased and did what she liked. She was the senior dancer at Haven's, the premiere strip club in Woodhaven, a suburb of Detroit. She enjoyed being onstage and exposing herself and the sense of power she got it was almost magnetic. One of her men, a psychologist, said she was probably an exhibitionist -- and while she resisted anyone telling her about herself, she grudgingly admitted (but only to herself) that he was likely correct.

At five foot, six inches, with chocolate brown skin, her 40D boobs were always prominent. She couldn't understand women who objected to men staring at their boobs -- hell, she loved the attention. And it always gave her an excuse to flirt -- or more if the guy was handsome enough. Or flashed a big enough wad of cash. The rest of her body was kept toned and tight by the two-hour daily workouts she did, to say nothing of the pole dancing at work. She wasn't bothered by the rich white girls who looked down their noses at her because she was "in the life." They were just jealous. She was going to take the ride as far as she could until her body and her looks weren't working for her any more.

She had finished her workout, showered, and was sitting at her computer in a towel and her robe. Her mail was taking a long time to download, and soon she saw the reason. She'd recently met some other women online who were into gangbangs, and the instigator of it, Jane, had sent them all a big move file. That meant she and Connie got together already. She made sure to save the file to her video folder in the cloud, and then finished dressing and getting made up.

Once finished at home, she locked up, got in her Miata and drove to the club. She parked in the employee lot out back. Max, the rear door guard and sometimes bouncer, let her in with his usual beaming smile. She managed to run her hand over the bulge that ran down his leg as she passed. Damn, that man was hung like a bull! It was such a shame he was gay! But sex aside, Max was a true source of reliability in her world. If she ever showed up at the club and he wasn't there she was pretty sure she'd turn tail and run -- something bad would be happening.

But he was there; a solid presence at her back. As he opened the door she both felt and heard the heavy bass rhythm from the front of the club. Judging by the number ("Walk This Way") Helen was strutting her stuff. One of these days she really ought to sit and watch, since Helen reliably pulled in more tips than anyone else. There might be a lesson there.

She went past Salim's office -- the man might be part Arab, but it didn't matter. As the accountant/bookkeeper for Haven's he was aware of where every penny went. He was also a champion for the dancers, making sure they not only were paid well (before the tips in their g-strings) but they had healthcare, insurance and never had to worry about money. All he asked of each of them in return was that they stayed away from drugs. His older sister had gotten hooked on heroin and died with a needle in her arm, so when he looked at each of the women with his sorrowful brown eyes and begged them to stay clean, they accepted without a qualm. So far, all the dancers had remained clean for the full two years he'd been there. And all of them made sure that at least once a day Salim's desk provided a shelter for their blowjob payback. As Tasha looked in, it was pretty obvious from the expression on his face and his body language that one of her sisters was paying their loving tribute. She smiled and waved as she passed.

The next door opened into the dressing room for the girls. Nothing fancy -- this wasn't the green room of the Philharmonic -- or even the Fillmore -- but each girl had her own cubicle with a locker, a small refrigerator, shower, and dressing table.

Tasha was the only one whose cubicle had a door -- age had its privilege. The women were free to decorate as they pleased. Tasha's theme was leopard skin -- the fabric on the chair and couch. The shade on the lamp. The gold and brown of her cube was home and comfortable. Opening her locker, her outfits all bore the leopard skin print. Opening her locker, she took off her street clothes and stashed them, along with her purse inside. Naked, she took a moment to examine her body in the mirror.

Frankly, she liked what she saw. She fancied herself a big cat, smooth and sinuous. Her large boobs with their very prominent nipples stood out with very little droop. Her flat stomach gave way to her shaved pussy -- not that the customers every got to see it -- and then her legs were long and smooth. From her dressing table she applied her fragrant body oil front and back, glancing over her shoulder at the reflection of her very shapely ass in the mirror, now glistening with the addition of the oil.

"Girl, you look good enough to eat" came the voice from her doorway. Tasha turned to face the opening, presenting herself fully to her best friend Sharon.

"One of these days I'm going to hold you to that, girl! That is, if I'm sex-starved and cock-deprived! You can just eat your heart out before you eat me out!"

They laughed -- this had been a game they'd played starting the week after Sharon let slip that she was highly partial to women. Tasha wasn't inexperienced in that arena, but she preferred, hard dark meat filling her up and satisfying her. It was a game they played with each other, and it just might go somewhere. At some point.

Tasha had already stepped into her g-string, and was now settling her leopard skin bra onto her massive chest. She took a moment and exaggerated fitting each boob exactly, all the time watching Sharon's look of hunger. "Sorry to frustrate you, honey. For now, you can be like the customers -- you can look but you can't touch."

"I know. The only good thing about it is I get a little more insight into their heads every time you tease me. My tips are getting better."

"Then it's all good, right?"

"Not as good as I'd like it, or as good as I could make you feel, but yeah. It's good."

With her costume in place and her makeup already on from when she left from home, Tasha locked her locker and stepped into the shared space. Looking around she could see who else was performing tonight.

Helen had just come in, dollar bills stuff into her g-string. Her small, perky boobs were glistening with sweat. "Ooh, they are a lively bunch tonight!"

Lissette, the tall French-Canadian blond with the movie star face and the playmate body clapped her hands. "Oh, very good. I just saw a new pair of shoes today -- if they are hot, then those shoes will be mine tomorrow!"

Kayla, the Lebanese born firebrand, also became excited. At just five feet tall, she was the smallest woman in the room. At the same time, however, her wide hips, coffee colored skin and wide mouth made her a crowd favorite as well. It didn't hurt that 38D boobs on a five-foot frame made her seem very top heavy, or that when it came to pole dancing no one could match her athleticism combined with sensual grace. The woman oozed sex appeal. If only the men knew that she was really a quiet housewife who turned her sex appeal on and off as easily as flipping a light switch.

"Tasha, can I see you?" Came the bass voice from the doorway. Rod, the six-foot five club manager, stepped in. "I have a request for you."

Sharon just laughed. They'd seen this before -- it almost always meant that Rod had been approached by someone with good money who had heard about Tasha's penchant for partying. For her sex was a benefit of dancing, and she had a reputation that she cultivated.

Tasha stepped out of the dressing room to a chorus of taunts and teasing. It wasn't a secret. All the girls had had opportunities at one time or another. Most tired of it -- or only said yes occasionally. Tasha, on the other hand seemed to always be ready and willing. No one begrudged her. No one thought less of her. They just let her go.

"Well, Rod, who is it and what's he want?"

"Well, honey, it's a they, not a he. Table 19 has 6 brothers there -- and they really are brothers. Darrell's the oldest of them, and he said they were hoping you were available. Seems that the youngest of them, Winston, just turned 18 today and they were hoping to give him a special present -- you! But I have a feeling it could get a little strange. First off, none of them is less that six-foot two. Two of them are close to seven feet tall. So we are talking big men -- and maybe big equipment. Second, I'm pretty sure that while they want you to take Winston's cherry, they all want to get a piece of the action."

"So far, it's nothing unusual. What are we getting in return?"

"Well, we -- as in Haven's -- are getting steady customers who all have big wallets. If word gets out, this could become a regular thing -- and we may have to either enroll the girls or get some new ones to handle the business. And you, my dear, will get yourself $10,000 for the night."

"Ten thousand? For one night? I think I want to meet the men at Table 19." With that she grabbed his hand and went into the club.

If they ever turned on the lights, the place would be judged shabby, and that would be generous. But with the lights off and the stage lighting on, it was a different world. The stage floor was light from below by an ever changing color wheel; the poles on either side of the stage swirled with a neon fountain-like effect. The bar was well lit and the mirror behind the rows of bottles on the shelves reflected the colored lights. The tables all had a dim light on their underside, as well as light sculptures on top of them. Chandeliers also contributed to the effects.

Table 19 was at the rear corner, opposite from the bar. As Tasha and Rod walked up to it, she took in the men around it. It was easy to spot the birthday boy -- he was fresh faced and his eyes were a little glazed from whatever he'd been drinking. But he was also a hunk, and rather cute.

"Gentlemen" said Rod. "This is Tasha."

All of them stood up and attempted to grab for her hand. She laughed at the sight.

"Fellas, sit down. Which one of you is Darnell?"

She got a gestured from him. He was hot! Tightly trimmed black hair, a little stubble on his chin, his shirt open to reveal a gorgeous set of pecs, and from his clothes it was pretty clear he did something that brought him money in large quantities. He leaned forward across the table and took her hand.

"You are so much prettier than they said."

"You keep sweet talking me like that, my man, and you are going to win you one hot woman!" Everyone laughed. "I figure that one is our birthday boy. Am I right?" She pointed to Winston and despite the poor lighting she could see him blush. "Shit, boy, you are fucking adorable! Now who are the rest of y'all?"

Darnell took over. "We are all brothers. After 6 boys, my folks stopped trying for a girl. Our family owns the Gastone Shipping business. I am the current CEO, my brother Marcus is our CFO' he said, pointing to one of the very tall brothers. "We think he's crazy -- he turned down a NBA contract to manage our money. We're glad he did but I mean, dude!"

Marcus reached across the table and took Tasha's hand, then bent forward and kissed it gently. Her eyes lit up with joy!

"That big bear next to Marcus is our operations manager and third brother Randy. He was another one that set aside fame in sports for family's sake." Randy stood and came around to Tasha. He grabbed her waist, picked her up and sat her on the table. Gazing into her eyes, he moved forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Tasha felt her pussy moistening and her nipples grow erect.

"Then there's baby brother -- the reason we're here tonight -- and then the twins. Ervin and Andrew. It's a good thing they aren't identical, right?"

"Don't get up, boys. You'll get a chance to come up with a good way to greet me in a bit. I want you to know that Rod here, and Max at the back, are my protection. I generally have one or the other accompany me on "visits" off-site. Not to participate, but they know my limits and protect me. Does that seem okay?"

Darnell spoke up. "I can assure you that we will completely respect your wishes. But we would strongly prefer no additional men with us. Can you find another solution?"

"That may prove to be an issue, but let me think on it as I'm dancing tonight. And men, concentrate hard on my dancing -- I'll be sending it directly to you."

With that, Tasha made her way around the table, whispering in the ear of each man while casually dropping her hand into each lap and squeezing. As she made her way around the table, her face brightened and her smile got bigger and bigger.

"Mmmm. I am getting very excited. Very wet and excited. You boys have a lot to offer me and I can't wait until you can deliver. I will think long and hard about your new request." And, on the spur of the moment she turned towards the table and lifted her bra over her boobs to display them. Pulling her top back down she turned and headed backstage.

Rod walked backstage with her. "Are you serious about going without one of us to watch your back?"

"Honey, for that kind of money I'm very serious. Something will present itself. I'll be sure to be safe."

Sharon was the first to greet her as she came into the dressing room. "Well?"

"Honey, this is going to be amazing. Six big, fine brothers, all packing heavy in the dick department, have got my pussy juicing like crazy! I'm telling you, Sharon, they are so fine you'd be tempted to give up the muff diving!"

"Damn, they must be special. I'll try to check them out while I'm dancing." Then she turned and went onstage for her number. Tasha took a moment to step into her cubical and check her go bag. It was the bag she kept prepared for night like this where she'd be leaving for 'an adventure.' In it were condoms of a many different sizes, lube, throat spray, clean underwear as well as shirts and sweats. She might be gone all night, but she was never going to wander home still dressed in yesterday's clothes. Not her thing.

With it all set she stepped out into the hall and went to find Rod. "Do they have medical certificates? All of them? And are they current? It will help me figure this out."

"Yes, dear, I checked them all. Darnell let me know that if you're cool with no condoms, he'll put an extra $5,000 in the pot, and if you leave me or Max out of it, he'll add another $5,000. Here's their down payment - $7500. The rest before you leave, as usual. And, of course, it's just a gift from them to show their appreciation." Rod winked and she winked back

"Rod, for that money I'm going to figure it out." They high-fived. With 45 minutes to go before she was due on stage, Tasha decided to check out the video she'd gotten earlier.

Seated in her cubical, she made sure she was facing the door. She plugged in her phone so it would be charged when she was ready to leave, and brought the email on screen. Then she read the email.

"Ho, girls. I did it -- I met Connie and she introduced me to her men. It was awesome. This is the first segment of video -- it was the largest I could send via email. It's got some good pictures of how I got to know Connie inside and out, as well as the beginnings of a weekend of taking big cock after big cock. The very end has some footage of me being made airtight and I fucking loved it! Let me know if you want to see more. Love, Jane."

Putting in headphones to keep the noise down, Tasha clicked on the video and watched in awe as Jane spent 15 minutes sucking at Connie's pussy. Her juices were flowing freely as she watched, and she thought to herself "maybe Sharon knows something." The video continued and Tasha had to admit that Jane was a quick learner and a voracious slut. She'd have to get real freaky with the boys tonight to match some of what she saw. Really freaky. The video came to an end and Tasha had a few minutes to get to the stage. As she did she passed Sharon she had a flash of inspiration and handed her the phone.

"Hey, doll, you might want to watch this one. It's a couple of friends of mine, and after I watched it I started to reconsider my attitude around being with you. Like seriously. Like tonight!"

To say Sharon was stunned was an understatement. She took the phone from Tasha as she passed, and went back to her cubicle to watch what had obviously affected her friend. It had to be hot!

Tasha grabbed Rod and let him know her solution to the backup problem -- Sharon. They both grinned at one another.

"Yeah, I'm gonna give in to her. It's definitely worth it!"

Tasha paused at the stage entrance; her pussy was wet, and likely was leaking into her g-string. The first time it had happened, she'd had no choice but had gone out and spent a lot of time drifting between being worried about it and enjoying the rush. When she came back in and counted the tips she'd received she was amazed -- the men in the audience loved it! She made more money that one night than she had for the entire week before. If the trend continued, then tonight was turning into a big payday.

The house lights went down and Giselle strode off stage, grabbing a water bottle and a towel. "Hot crowd tonight, Tasha. Watch out for the grabbers on stage right."

"Thanks, honey. Do me a favor and let Rod know about them. He'll move them. You did good! Loved that last move of yours!"

"Thanks. Now you go knock 'em alive!"

They air kissed, and Tasha heard the heavy bass beat of her opening number begin to pulse through the club. "Smoke On The Water" filled the club, and by the fourth measure she was striding onto the lighted stage as the club's announcer shouted to the crowd.

"Here she is, our very own smoke on the water, the tantalizing Tasha!"

A cheer went up from the men in the room and she used the energy to leap high onto the dance pole, pulling her legs up over her head and spreading them wide as she swirled around the pole. Her g-string, discolored by her moisture, was now completely visible, and she made sure to show it to the entire room before hooking one leg on the pole to hold herself in position. Her hips were now pumping to the beat and her arms waved in a sinuous motion.

Her dismount from the pole was a handstand onto the floor followed by a walk over that had her land with her legs spread wide in front of a table of white guys who responded immediately with dollar bills in hand, shoving them into her clothing. As she bent backwards, thrusting her chest into the air while still spread-legged, she made big show of removing the dollars that were in her bra. Once removed (and tucked into the tops of her thigh high boots, her hands went behind her back to unclasp the fabric and with a grand gesture she ripped it from her chest, exposing her enhanced boobs to the room.

Again, it was evident that she knew what worked -- the audience got loud and bills were flying onto the stage. The flooring was rigged so that in the dark exchange of dancers sections opened and the tips dropped through. One of the stage crew gathered the bills and the dancers got them shortly after they were back in their dressing area. So Tasha was fine with them lying around.

The riffs of the song faded and she stood center stage, seeming to collapse in on herself as it did. But then the opening notes of Bon Jovi's "Livin' On A Prayer" began to fill the club and she began to come to life. This was the opportunity to let her party know she was there for them. She gestured to Izzy -- the sound and light guy -- and the table with the brothers at it was suddenly lit. As the attention of the crowd went to them, Tasha took advantage of the shift and faced them, hands cupped beneath her large tits, and began pumping her hips, all the time staring at Winston's enraptured face.