Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 05

As the agent got ready to leave, he bid her goodnight.

"Unless you want your fiancé to sleep with you tonight," he said with a grin.

Jen felt a thrum of warmth between her legs as the FBI agent leered at her before reason got ahold of her, and before she did something stupid ushered him out the door to his mocked angst.

As she was shutting the door he looked at her and grinned, "Just remember, even if I'm not there physically, I'm there electronically," he winked at her.

Jen suddenly jumped as her tattoo vibrated beneath her skin, the sensation almost an electrical current, but not as painful. Looking at the FBI agent in surprise he grinned, holding up his cellphone in way of explanation as she slammed the door in his face before returning to her meal.

She worried about the agent's involvement, concerned not only about Mr. DeWight discovering his identity, but that the agent's lack of experience would betray them as well. She understood some of the reasoning, as eventually her 'fiancé' would need to be involved in her life, but had not thought about how her role as an informant would pan out, thinking things were getting more complicated than she originally had imagined.

Finishing her meal, she once again attempted to call Dan on the FBI cell phone, and immediately got the generic voicemail message, so decided to go to bed.

********************

Thursday morning began like every morning this week, Jen reluctantly getting out of bed way too early from the alarm clock's blaring beeping-buzzing noise, making her coffee, and getting her make-up on before selecting her clothes for the day.

Her meeting with Mr. DeWight was today, and knowing this may be the first time the FBI may be getting a view of his office was willing to give concede on allowing their 'belly-cam' to be in place, knowing she needed to wear something that left her stomach bare. Although her mind was concerned about the exploitation of her body, meeting personally with Mr. DeWight meant she needed show she was at least attempting to 'fit in' with her role. The less he had to focus on her defiance, the better she hoped she would be left on her own and able to get some information for the FBI, recalling Nick's praise on finding out about the missing model Fernando.

With those thoughts in her mind she chose a small two-piece outfit. It was more revealing than she would normally choose for 'work' attire, but it was at least not as blatantly sexual as the crotchless chaps she had worn around the office.

Having already exposed her crotch and ass to everybody in the building outside of a club atmosphere had apparently desensitized her, as she was less conscientious about wearing outfits she would normally only wear at the club. Dressing slutty was expected of her, and Jen figured if she was willing to dress sexy, Mr. DeWight would be pleased believing she was 'fitting in.'

The outfit she chose was made of a silver metallic material with white lace for both the halter top and small matching skirt. The halter was basically a lace bra with the silver metallic material lying beneath her breasts reminiscent of a shelf bra—the silver material extending up around her neck. The top had a quick-release clip in the back, as did most of her dancing outfits. The matching flared miniskirt consisted of a similar four-inch waistband of silver material wrapping around her hips, with the fluffy lace skirt extending beneath it.

Looking at the tiny outfit on the bed Jen realized she would be walking a fine line for the skirt to be low enough on her hips to cover her ass and crotch, yet high enough she was not showing off the crack of her ass; however, the low rising skirt would no doubt please Mr. DeWight.

Going through the shoe rack hanging in the closet she found a pair of knee-high open toed silver boots which matched the outfit perfectly, and putting them on, she felt the boots to be sexier than the outfit. They zipped up the insides of her legs with metallic studs rising up the outer portion, but it was the six-inched heel platform soles which gave the shoes their sexiness. The heels were done in white enamel and perfectly complemented the lace on her outfit, while the rest of the boot was the same metallic silver as the other material. The boots seemed to accentuate her long legs more than even some of her stripper shoes, and fit comfortably around her feet and lower legs.

Surprisingly—or maybe not considering her wardrobe had been supplied by Mr. DeWight—she found a matching silver metallic Y-backed thong. The underwear was definitely made for a stripper, having quick release clips on both sides, but most of her outfits had such clasps so she paid little heed to the plastic clips. Slipping on the thong, Jen felt a small thrill run through her as the thin strap slipped between her legs and up her ass crack.

Once again she wondered at her body's reaction, as wearing a thong was standard for working at the club, and yet even alone in her room her body was reacting to the small material she was wearing.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she smiled at the thought of wearing the short skirt and how men would be straining their necks to get a peek of her ass as she walked.

Without any hesitation Jen put on the hotel robe—leaving the outfit sitting on the bed—as she sat down to drink her coffee, waiting for the call from Larry to announce the car's arrival.

At 6:15 precisely the phone rang and hearing Larry's voice stating the car was ready, Jen grabbed her outfit and left the room.

A part of her was astonished at her still planning to dress in the car before her driver, less bothered by exposing herself to him than by accepting her lot in life so easily; however, after having dressed before the driver twice already Jen reasoned it would probably insult the driver more for her to come down completely dressed. She remembered how nonchalantly she had disrobed last night before the FBI agent, wondering at her actions. Granted she stripped routinely in a club, but it was in an environment promoting such behavior. Now she was doing it outside of the club's context, and even feeling comfortable about it.

Was this Mr. DeWight's plan all along, to get her to be so comfortable about being naked it was no longer an issue? The thought worried her as she took the elevator down to the lobby, her boots once again clicking loudly throughout the lobby as she made her way to the exit.

Larry's smile as she came out of the hotel confirmed her thoughts on what his reaction would have been coming down dressed. As she got into the car, she began taking off the robe before he even shut the door, and glancing out the opened car door Jen saw a cute bellhop staring at her. A brief quiver of excitement ran through her as she realized she had stripped naked before the car door was shut.

Her chauffer apparently enjoyed her state of nakedness as he began chatting with the bellhop, leaving the door open and her fully exposed to both men!

Jen could have put the robe back on, but her mind felt she was already at the point of no return, so sat there naked as both men chatted, their gazes showing they were more interested in her than whatever they were talking about. Once again she felt her body heat up at the attention she was receiving, and attempting to act nonchalant, she leaned her head back.

Sitting in the car wearing nothing but her thong and boots, Jen wondered again at what she was doing; how she had, in less than a week, come to the point of allowing herself to be exposed in public, or her stripping in a limousine so her chauffer could watch her while he drove her to work. The exhibitionist side of her was definitely delighted as the chauffer eventually shut the door and got into the driver's seat, his eyes lustful as he looked at her through the rearview mirror.

Jen would never have thought of doing something like this before signing her contract, reserving her body's exposure to within the club or privately for Dan.

The cool air of the air conditioning felt good upon her bare breasts, the heat of the day already oppressive from her short walk from the hotel to the car, and as Jen glanced up at her chauffer, his gaze directly on her, she once again reached into her satchel, repeating yesterday's actions applying body lotion to her skin, giving her driver another show as her hands spread the cream all over her body.

Yet again she remained naked in the car until they pulled up to the DSA offices. Having only a small skirt and halter to wear, it took her no time at all to get dressed and as the door opened, got out of the car, thanking her driver before entering the building.

In what seemed to be a normal daily occurrence, Jen was met with a chorus of welcomes as she made her way through the lobby to the elevator banks, seeing the now familiar throng of men; however, today there appeared to be a larger number of them than the last couple days.

As the elevator doors opened she was surprised as everybody entered with her, her body was squeezed in the middle of a mass of masculinity as the men crowded into the small space.

Sandwiched amongst the men, Jen felt a hand on the back of her upper leg before the door even closed. Immediately her pulse sped up at the flesh-on-flesh contact, and she felt her breath catch as the hand slowly slid up her upper thigh to her ass, gently squeezing her bare ass cheek.

While the mysterious groper continued to stroke her left ass cheek, she suddenly felt another hand on her opposite cheek which slowly and gently stroked her skin as well.

The touch of the unknown men—she could barely move in the tightly packed elevator, let alone turn around or move away from them—caused her heart to race, and Jen almost groaned when yet another pair of hands began to glide across her bare back.

Then she did gasp, her sharp intake of breath catching the attention of several of the men, each of them smiling at her knowingly as a fourth hand—that of the man directly in front of her—reached back and cupped her crotch!

Packed tightly into the small space, the feeling of immobility only added to her excitement as Jen was felt up by at the four men.

In an attempt to act nonchalant and get the touch of the strangers' hands off her mind, Jen looked around the car, her eyes finally resting at the row of buttons. Suddenly her eyes widened in surprise as she saw the panel of the elevator lit up for every floor!

As the elevator stopped at each floor the men behind her—obviously the ones touching her body from the removal of their hands—exited the elevator. As soon as they shimmied their way out—each smiling at her and wishing her a good day—the group of men around her reshuffled and another set of hands began touching her before the doors even closed.

The stripper within Jen found it amusing and typical on how these men had somehow coordinated this situation. What was worse was her reaction and allowing them to feel her up as the elevator slowly made its way upwards one floor at a time. That she allowed each of the strangers to cop a feel of her before leaving concerned her. Although she had experienced similar crowd mentality at the club—that being men somehow finding ways to touch the dancers—she was amazed how they almost telepathically coordinated their movements with each stop of the elevator.

She knew there was no way this could have been pre-planned, merely the men's blatant instinct driving them to the same act.

Under normal circumstances, and for most women, the blatant fondling would be almost rape; however, used to the touching from the clubs as well as Mr. DeWight and Scarlett's words echoing in her mind about showing men she was available, Jen barely paid them heed as she eventually made it to her office's floor.

Jen could not deny the thrill she felt at the touch of the men, the exact same 'high' she experienced on a busy night at the club. It was the typical response of her exhibitionist side shining through, her stripper persona coming to the forefront more easily, as Velvet had suggested.

Again a part of her worried at how she was accepting the exploitation of her body. Sitting naked in her car without objection, begin felt up by strange men in an elevator, and even posing naked in front of a camera, she wondered at the cost of her morality she was taking in her new role.

Walking into her office, she was not surprised to see Velvet already settled in, meeting her with a cup of coffee.

"Wow," her assistant told her as her gaze moved up and down Jen's body, "can you come into the office just one day without looking like every man's wet dream?" she grinned. "Some of us girls would like to feel we have a chance with the other sex," she a laughed as Jen blushed.

"Hey, you don't look bad yourself," Jen told the young woman, who smiled at the compliment.

And it was the truth. Today Velvet was wearing her namesake, a deep purple sheath velvet dress barely extending past her hips, the top just as revealing. Looking at the dress Jen almost smiled as she recognized Velvet suffered from the same quandary she had with her skirt—balancing the material between her breasts and crotch to keep them both covered, having to sacrifice more 'real estate' on the top in order to decently cover the bottom, just as she suffered with her admittedly tiny skirt. Jen realized if Velvet pulled the dress down another inch her nipples would be completely exposed, wondering how often she needed to adjust the material to prevent flashing everybody constantly.

As if reading her thoughts, she smiled as Velvet reached up and adjusted the top of her dress. "Well, we ARE going out tonight," her assistant reminded her as Jen's eyes suddenly opened wide in shock.

She had forgotten agreeing to go out tonight with Sean—the man she had allowed to fuck her in front of a camera—and Christopher, her photographer's assistant who had watched the whole thing!

"I can't go out like this," Jen said in exasperation as Velvet smiled.

"Nonsense, we're going clubbing, and if you haven't been out to that many clubs lately, stripper wear is the norm," she said happily as Jen looked at her in doubt.

Movement in her periphery caught her attention as her gaze was drawn to a young, extremely attractive girl sitting in one of the waiting chairs behind Velvet's reception desk.

Seeing her brows furrow in question Velvet smiled, saying, "It's Thursday," as if the day explained everything. At Jen's blank expression she added, "Interview day? That's your first appointment, though you have plenty of time to settle in," she told Jen quietly, "she's early."

Jen realized Velvet was right, having forgotten her role in finalizing new hires. Looking at the young woman who smiled shyly at her, Jen waved for Velvet to follow her as she entered her office.

"Her?" she asked incredulously as the door shut. "That girl looks like a teenager! She'll be eaten alive and spit out in tattered pieces," she whispered to Velvet. "And that's BEFORE she even gets on stage or dances in front of any group of guys," she said to her assistant in surprise.

Velvet laughed. "We all had to start sometime," she shrugged in answer.

Jen asked, "What is she, like fifteen?" she said in exasperation as Velvet once again laughed.

"No, she's twenty-one. And so what if she looks young, you know as well as I do that will earn her a nice following quickly," Velvet winked at her knowingly.

"Yeah, of child molesters," Jen muttered as she went to sit down and sip her coffee. There was truth to Velvet's words, as younger looking girls definitely drew a 'different' crowd of regulars than somebody who was more 'Barbie-built' like Jen; however, it had always bothered her.

"Go ahead and check your e-mail and such," her assistant told her as Jen shook her head. "As I said, she's early, so let her wait. And this is one of the videos that did not submit a tape, which is why you are probably surprised at seeing her," her assistant said as Jen realized she was correct, she had not seen any pictures of the woman outside. Her assistant continued, saying, "If you don't mind, I'd like to sit in on the auditions," she asked as Jen nodded and turned on her computer screen.

"Good, I wouldn't mind another opinion," Jen told the younger woman. "This is the first time I've had to do something like this," she explained as she settled into her desk and Velvet left her alone.

Once again Jen's mailbox was full of complaints and 'what do I do if this happens' type e-mails, glad her and Velvet had worked on her preliminary plans for a mentor program. She would ask Mr. DeWight about it in her meeting later today.

On one hand she wondered why nothing like this had ever been done, but after Velvet had put together some numbers and she had examined the initial costs, she could understand. Even so, she was convinced it would be an investment with big payoffs, so was determined to push for Mr. DeWight's approval. Now that she was in a role that gave her the chance to make a change, she firmly believed her program would make the girls better dancers, which in turn meant bigger tips, and lead to customers spending more money. It was a step up in quality from most independent clubs.

She also knew if everything worked out with the FBI getting something on Mr. DeWight and the company went under, the girls would have the know-how and ability to find jobs somewhere else.

Finished with her newest e-mails, Jen instant messaged Velvet to send in the interviewee, Sapphire. Velvet walked in with the woman and Jen was thankful for her assistant's presence, being more nervous than the girl they were interviewing. Were it not for Velvet's questions, Jen felt the interview would have been just her and the new girl staring at each other across the desk.

Interviewing skills aside, when it came time for the audition, Jen—or actually Diamond—came into full control.

As the girl prepared herself and stepped onto the small stage in the office Jen asked Velvet to lower the lights and turn on the spotlights for the small stage. She was once more amazed how club-like the lighting and stage became, particularly being in an office building on the twentieth floor!

The interviewees had been told to bring a set between 15-20 minutes long, and looking at the soundtrack Sapphire chose, Jen recognized classic stripper songs—Def Leppard's 'Pour Some Sugar On Me,' Warrant's 'Cherry Pie,' Ginuwine's 'Pony,' and ending with Motley Crue's 'Girls, Girls, Girls.' It was similar to something Jen would have chosen for a 1980-ish theme, not faulting the girl for selecting 'tried and true' songs, but inwardly disappointed the girl was not branching out from the norm to make a name for herself.

Still, the girl was obviously now as Jen and Velvet suddenly rolled their eyes at each other as the girl took off her dress, wearing normal underwear underneath as opposed to a stripper outfit.

Although some girls danced in lingerie, it was considered 'newbie' attire in the business. Although the girl's bra and panties were of good quality—being from one of the Victoria's Secret lines—Jen made a mental note to add this to her mentoring list as one of many 'new stripper' mistakes.

Looking at the young woman's figure Jen noted the girl had a nice body, although somewhat flat-chested. If the girl planned on staying in the exotic dancer business for any length of time, she would only be successful getting a boob job; however, as Velvet had said, she would draw her own following initially looking young and naïve.

When the first song of the set began to play, Jen immediately recognized the girl's nervousness—not from the interview, but at displaying her body. Her movements jerky and poorly executed, and she definitely had an air of being uncomfortable being exposed even in her underwear before her and Velvet.