Older Strippers and How They Play

The Metro Council wrote a definition for "sexually oriented businesses" that encompassed about any business where anybody looked at, got looked at, was touched, or touched anybody if both of them didn't have all their goodies covered up. They wrote that definition into an ordinance declaring that "sexually oriented businesses" had to obey certain new rules.

Those rules specifically banned a woman from showing any of the things men want to see. As a result, strippers could only strip down to a bikini bra that covers their nipples and any skin darker than the rest of their tits, and panties that covered up their happy box.

Thong panties are OK, but there can't be any rosebud showing and the dancer can't pull them to the side to give anyone a peek and let them slip a bill under the thong. That ordinance pretty much ruined the whole reason for strip clubs and lap dances.

For some reason known only to the Metro Council members, private clubs were specifically exempted from the new ordinance. Prostitution is still illegal, but if the club charges a membership fee, anything else is legal. A couple of the clubs even have strippers in one room, and a couples play area in another.

The woman on stage had peeled off her g-string by then and was shaking her ass at the guys in the chairs. Her shaved pussy lips were peeking out from between her thighs and when she reached back and pulled her ass cheeks apart, her pussy lips opened up a little. That got her a shower of wadded up bills.

The music ended then, so the woman picked up the money and her clothes and walked off the stage. More music started then and the DJ announced the next dancer.

"Guys, get ready for a gal that'll get your rocks off...I mean knock your socks off. She's Shirley Sookes and believe me, you'll wish she was sooking you before she gets done dancing."

I had to smile when Shirley Gene strutted onto the stage. I thought maybe she'd be waiting tables, but there she was in a little black lace bra, black lace thong panties and black high heels. She'd aged pretty well. Her tits were a lot bigger than I remembered and her ass was a lot wider, but she could still make her tits and ass jump up and down. The guys loved it when she did that in her little black lace bra and thong panties. They loved it even more when she took off the bra and panties and made her tits and ass jump some more.

Most of the guys at the stage were throwing bills at Shirley Gene by then. The young guy down at the end was just sitting there and grinning. I went back to watching Shirley Gene then because she'd turned around and was spreading her ass cheeks just like the other woman had. I kinda wished I'd still been watching the young guy.

Now, I've liked every pussy I've ever met, and when some women shave their pussies, it can be really fucking hot. There are some pussies, though, that I'd rather were covered at least little. Shirley Gene's was one of those pussies. It's not that hers was ugly or anything like that. It was just that her pussy lips were really thick and kinda puffy. Thick and puffy is fine when I'm feeling thick and puffy with my tongue or cock, but I'd rather not see thick and puffy get spread open.

Shirley Gene was doing great because there were a lot of bills flying at her open pussy. When her music ended, she blew a kiss to the guys in the chairs and then picked up her money and walked off the stage.

Like I said, my plan was to wait around until the place closed up and see if I could get Shirley Gene to tell me if she was married or not. I know, that seems like a lazy way to find that out when I could just have used her name to request a copy of her marriage license from the Tennessee Department of Health where marriage licenses are recorded. That would have been easier, but they'll only search one year for the fifteen dollar fee, so having them search every year for the past thirty years would have cost me a small fortune. I'd already spent thirty-five bucks to see if she was there, and I wasn't getting paid for this job.

I didn't have to wait until the place closed, because about five minutes later, Shirley Gene walked out of a door beside the stage and started for my table. She'd gotten dressed, sort of. She had her black lace bra and panties back on, but the only other thing she was wearing was a black, see-through nightgown thing and the same black high heels she'd worn on stage.

Watching Shirley Gene walk was kind of like watching a leopard just walking through the jungle on TV. With every step, her big tits sort of moved out and then up and her ass swayed from side to side. Every move flowed into the next one and the whole picture was raw sex on two long and mostly sexy legs.

Shirley Gene looked at me for a few seconds and then frowned.

"I thought I recognized you. You're Harry, that PI who used to rent part of one of Reggie's buildings. That little prick didn't send you down to check on me did he?"

I shook my head.

"No. Haven't talked to him in years unless I need something fixed and he never does, so I usually just get it fixed myself. I was just looking to see if there were still any clubs in Nashville where the girls actually stripped and came across this place. I didn't expect to see you here. I figured you'd get a different job or something, and I'd never see you again."

Shirley Gene grinned then.

"Sounds like you might have wanted to see me again."

I smiled. She hadn't changed a bit and that might be my way to find out.

"Well, that time you told me if I had any problems to give you a call and you'd fix me up did make me think about it. I just never got up the nerve to take you up on the offer when you and Reggie were married. After the divorce, I couldn't find you again."

"You couldn't find me because I moved to Knoxville after that and danced there for a while. I did think about you though. You still interested?"

"Well, sure, but you've probably got a boyfriend or a husband. I don't want any trouble with a boyfriend or a husband. That's why I didn't call you when you were married to Reggie. I didn't want him to evict me."

Shirley Gene sat down beside me and started rubbing my thigh.

"Well, Sugar, I wouldn't have let Reggie evict you back then. As for now, I'm not married, but I do kinda have a boyfriend. He's that young guy sitting over there by the stage and he thinks he's my boyfriend anyway. I fuck him all the time but he's too young to know how to make me really cum hard. I'll bet you could though."

I grinned.

"I'm not young like your boyfriend, so I might disappoint you."

"Nah...you still got a tongue, don't you? You do that for me, and I'll make sure your dick gets hard enough to fuck me."

ShirIey Gene licked her upper lip really slow then, so I stuck out my tongue and wiggled it up and down a couple times, then grinned.

"If we were going to do something, how would we arrange it?"

Sally Gene moved her hand to my fly and started stroking my cock.

"I wanna see if that tongue feels as good as it looks, so you be outside in the alley about three thirty and take me home with you."

I looked over at the young guy at the end of the stage. He was staring at us and frowning.

"What about your boyfriend? Looks like he was planning on taking you home because he's staring at us."

Shirley waved her hand.

"Billy Joe always does that, but he'll get over it when I fuck him tomorrow night. I'll just tell him I got a headache from all the cigarette smoke and I'm going home. That's what I always tell him when I'm going home with another guy. Oops, I have to go get ready to dance again. See you later, Sugar."

The young waitress came by about then and asked if I wanted another Coke. I'd already found out what I came to find out, and while Shirley would probably have been good, I wasn't in the mood. I kind of like it when a woman asks me to fuck her, but I like them to be a little less obvious about it. The waitress looked a little sad when I said I had to be going, but said I should come back anytime and she'd be glad to serve me.

I was five blocks from home when I noticed the jacked up pickup truck behind me had made the last three turns I'd made. In the part of town where I live, there could only be two reasons for that. Either the pickup was going down the block from my office/apartment to pick up a hooker, or the pickup was following me. At a stoplight, I opened the glove box on my car and pulled out the Smith revolver I'd started carrying again and stuck it in my ankle holster. I'd left it in the car because it's not legal to carry in a bar.

The pickup followed me when I turned onto the street that runs past my place, and when I turned down the alley I accelerated a little so I could get parked and out of my car before the pickup turned into the alley and headed my way.

When I saw the headlights of the truck, I slipped the Smith out of the ankle holster and hid it behind my back. I didn't know what this asshole wanted, but I didn't want to escalate things if I didn't have to.

The guy who got out of the pickup was Billy Joe, and it was obvious what he wanted. He got out, squared his shoulders and started walking toward me with that swagger you see tough guys use in the movies. I'd figured when I left the strip joint, he'd relax, and when I wasn't waiting for her, Shirley Gene would take him home with her and make him feel all better. Evidently, he was more pissed than I'd thought.

There's one light on the back door of the pawn shop on the other side of the alley from my place, and when Billy Joe pulled the knife out of his front pocket and snapped it open, I saw the flash of the blade. I suppose he thought it would intimidate me. It did, because the fucking blade looked about six inches long.

Billy Joe kept walking until he was about ten feet away. Then he stopped, flashed the blade at me and said, "You stay away from Shirley. She's my woman. If you don't, I'll carve your ass up like a Christmas turkey."

I've never understood why some guys say that, "she's my woman" thing. I've known my share of women, well, a few anyway, and none of them would have ever let me get away with that. It was the other way around a couple of times, the woman would say I was her man, but that felt pretty good. If I'd said anything about her being mine, she'd have kicked me in the balls and then laughed when she walked out. Maybe I've just been seeing the wrong women, I don't know, but Billy Joe seemed serious.

"Billy Joe, I just know Shirley from a long time back, that's all. We were just catching up."

Billy Joe kept waving the knife around, like it was supposed to scare me.

"Yeah, you son of a bitch. I seen you looking at her tits. I seen her look at me and then start rubbing your leg too. Well, you ain't gonna see or talk to her no more, understand? You do and I'll slice your ass into little pieces."

I shook my head when he started toward me again.

"Billy Joe, you don't want to do this. I promise it'll end up fucking up your day."

He kept coming and said, "You talk big for a fucking old guy, but the only thing that's gonna get fucked up is you."

I could have shot him in the chest, but all I really wanted to do was make him leave. I pointed the Smith at the ground and pulled the trigger hoping that might scare him off, but I couldn't see worth a shit because it was pretty fucking dark. Billy Joe cried out, "You shot me, you asshole", then dropped the knife and fell down holding his foot. I kicked the knife under my car, turned Billy Joe over and put my knee in his back, and then used my cell phone to call Roger Ames, the Captain of the local precinct. He sounded sleepy and pissed when he finally answered.

"Harry, it's one in the goddamned morning. Why the hell did you call me?"

"Well, Roger, I sorta shot somebody again and I need an officer and the EMT guys to come to the alley behind my office."

Roger said, "I don't fucking believe this", and then "What do you mean you sort of shot somebody".

I explained what happened, and Roger said he better come down too. A few minutes later, an EMT truck drove into my alley followed by a patrol car. While the EMT guys worked on Billy Joe, the officer took my Smith and then started questioning me. I was telling him what happened when Roger walked up with a frown on his face.

"Harry, two months ago you shot a woman and now this. Is this gonna be a regular thing with you now?"

I shook my head.

"Roger, I don't like this any better than you do. The guy had a hell of a big knife and said he was gonna cut me up so I had to do something. I thought I'd just shot into the dirt, but I kinda missed. I only shot him in the foot, not the chest like last time, so it isn't like I really tried to kill him or anything like that. His knife's under my car and when you look at it you'll see what I mean."

Roger sighed.

"You had the whole fucking alley to aim at and you missed? OK, just stay put until we get this figured out."

About an hour later, Billy Joe was being loaded into the EMT truck for a trip to the hospital and Roger had talked to him after the officers did. Roger was still frowning when he walked back to my car. Roger seems to frown a lot when I see him anymore. I think need needs a vacation.

"OK, Harry. The guy told us about the same thing you told me and Mac, except he claims he wasn't going to hurt you. He admitted the knife is his and said he just pulled the knife to scare you so you'd leave his girlfriend alone. He kept coming at you because he didn't think you looked scared enough. He said he'd have left if he'd known you had a gun. Maybe next time you ought to show your victim your gun before you shoot him.

"The EMT's say he'll be fine because the bullet didn't expand much until it went out the bottom of his boot. It just nicked a bone and left a hole in his foot. He's going to be charged with aggravated assault because of the knife, but it'll probably be pled down to simple assault since you shot him before he could do anything to you.

"I could arrest you for discharging a firearm in the city limits, but we haven't had any complaints from anybody and I'm too tired to fuck with the paperwork tonight. I'm going to keep your revolver for a week and think about it though, so you're not off the hook just yet. Now, I'm going back to bed and I'd suggest you do the same thing."

The next afternoon, I called Reggie to give him the bad news.

"Reggie, Shirley Gene isn't married yet, and if I had to guess, I'd guess she isn't gonna be any time soon. She seems to be doing the same thing she was doing when she was married to you."

I heard Reggie say, "damn", under his breath, and then "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. She has a boyfriend, but he's about thirty years younger than she is and she didn't seem to think as much of him as he does of her. It's not just him either. She told me she meets other guys too."

"Did you believe her?"

"Well, yeah, because she asked me if I'd be interested in taking her home with me. Say, now that I found out what you wanted to know, when can I expect somebody to come over and fix the leak in my shower?"

Reggie said he'd get right on it, and then hung up.

A week later, I went down to see Roger and pick up my Smith. When he handed it to me, he said, "Harry, I had Gene write it as self-defense, but try to stay out of situations like this, OK. We go back a long time and I'd hate to have to put your ass in jail."

I said I'd try really hard, thanked him, and then left.

I was looking through my mail that afternoon when my office door opened and Kathy, the white-haired woman from the strip club, walked in. I was a little surprised at how she was dressed. At Southern Belles, she'd worn a pretty conservative blouse and a pair of pants, about what most older women would wear -- dressy but not all that sexy. That afternoon, she had on a sparkly tank top cut low in the front and shorts that weren't all that short, but fit her round ass really nice. She smiled at me as she looked around.

"So this is where you live. I wrote down your address when you gave me your license, and this morning, I got to thinking about you. I don't have to work tonight, so I decided I'd come and see you. On the door it says you're a private investigator. Are you really?"

"Yeah, that's what I do to make a living."

"What do you investigate?"

"Oh, a lot of things. I find lost people sometimes. If you think your spouse is cheating on you I can find out if that's true or not. I also investigate insurance fraud. It's stuff like that, finding out things people don't want other people to know mostly."

She grinned.

"So you're like that Rockford detective that used to be on television?"

I shrugged.

"I don't know about that. I don't watch much television."

Kathy walked over and hiked her ass up on the edge of my desk. She had to lean over to do that, and when she did the tank top fell away from her chest. I was looking at a really nice pair of tits in a white lace bra. Once she got her ass up there, she wiggled around a little and then straightened up.

"I really liked that show. He was a real man, not like the wimpy guys they have on television now. He got a girl on every show."

Kathy chuckled.

"I always wished he'd gotten me. I used to think about what would happen if he did."

I was wishing she'd get her ass out of my office. It wasn't like I was covered up with work, but it was getting close to five and five is when I pour myself a scotch to celebrate staying in business and staying alive that day. Kathy seemed to want to talk and that was going to put me behind schedule.

"Kathy, is there something I can do for you?"

She grinned.

"Oh, I sure hope you can."

"OK, wanna tell me what you need help with?"

Kathy fluffed up her hair and grinned.

"You left really early the other night. I guess you didn't find anything you liked at Southern Belles, did you?"

I said I hadn't. Kathy grinned again.

"Thought about me any more? I've thought about you. I've thought about you lot."

"Well, yes, I thought about you."

"Did you think about the same things I thought about?"

"Well, since I don't know what you thought about, I don't know."

Kathy grinned.

"I'll show you what I thought about."

She slipped down off my desk, straddled me in my chair, and then pulled the top over her head and tossed it on my desk.

"I thought about doing this to start. Do you like my boobs?"

Well, her tits looked big, soft, and really nice. I looked up at her.

"They're pretty great, Kathy."

"Great for an old woman, or just great?"

Well, I learned a long time ago that telling a woman she looks good for her age is a sure way to piss her off, and since you're the one who said it, she's gonna be really pissed off at you. When I told Sandy that, she glared at me while she put her clothes back on, and then said, "Well, that dick of yours doesn't look all that great either", right before she walked out and slammed the door. I hadn't told a woman that since.

"No, they're just really great."

Kathy slipped the bra straps from her shoulders, pulled the bra down and then turned it around and unhooked it.

"I think they're saggy. Do you think they are?"

Well, that was loaded question number two. They did sag, but her nipples pointed up and out instead of down at the floor and it wasn't like they hung down to her belly button or anything.

"Uh, well Kathy, they're pretty big, so I don't think they sag as much as they're just heavy."

Kathy grinned.

"You know how to say what a woman wants to hear, Harry. I know you're just being nice, but it feels good. Give 'em a little squeeze. That'll make me feel even better."

In my defense, since Kathy was sitting on me, I couldn't just stand up and tell her to get out. If I had, I'd have dumped her ass on the floor. Like I said before, Kathy seemed like a nice woman and I'd never do that to a nice woman. I know, it was looking like Kathy wasn't really like you think of a grandmother being, but she was still nice.