Private Dance

Henry led all ten of his friends into the strip club. His best friend Rob was getting married next month and as the best man it was his job to set up the bachelor party. Rob had a thing for strip clubs and strippers but swore them off after he met his fiancé, Kristy. So, Henry thought one more time to remind him of his single days would the perfect bachelor party. Now, where to take Rob and the guys to? He didn't want to take him to a trashy joint like Jezebel's Palace or The Catty Corner, he wanted to take Rob someplace that was classy, and the girls looked like they stepped out of a Playboy Centerfold. That meant only one place... Body Language. Body Language wasn't some cheap side of the road strip club, it was a true Gentlemen's Club. The girls were known for being the hottest in the city and if you wanted to get in, you had to meet the dress code: Jackets, vests, tie, in other words you had to look like a gentleman and you were ready to spend money. The drinks were all top shelf and the décor was something out of a James Bond film. He knew this was going to be an expensive night, especially if Rob's tab was going to be on him. Henry had a wad of cash and made sure the balance on his credit card was low... very low.

One thing about Body Language was the idea behind it, show... don't tell. The girls dressed in various costumes; from cheerleaders, sexy teachers or librarians, nuns, bikini girls, the list went on. Each of them knew how to use their bodies to give your night the true gentlemen's club experience. Young, flexible, gorgeous women who knew how to dance, not just sexily, but like something straight out of your dirtiest fantasies. You were coming to spend money, and they gave you quality.

They greeted you when you walked in the door with three girls, usually with DD's or bigger kneeled on a perch and waited to give you a big hug, which meant they were just high enough to wrap their arms around your head and mash your face into their cleavage. Having your face smothered by a pair of big soft titties was one hell of a greeting. The only problem was the glitter they left on your face pretty much told everyone where you'd been, especially your wife or girlfriend. They usually had one blonde, one brunette, and one redhead to give you some variety. Rob always went for redheads, something about the contrast of fiery red hair against creamy white skin always set him off.

When Rob buried his face between the redhead's tits, she shook a little and wedged his nose deeper in between them. She held him for a good ten seconds and made it hard for him to get a breath in. Henry called ahead and told the management he was bringing a bachelor party in, which meant they would get a little extra special treatment. This was only the beginning.

When she finally let Rob go, he took a deep breath in and all three girls were laughing at him. "Aww, I think I almost suffocated him on that one."

"You need to say you're sorry, Amber," the brunette said, a stunning black girl that looked something like a younger Tyra Banks.

"You're right. Here's how we say sorry at Body Language." The redhead picked up her right tit and shoved her nipple into Rob's mouth. He instinctively pursed his lips around her entire areola and started sucking. All of the guys in the bachelor party whooped and hollered and the other strippers cheered the redhead on.

Henry felt a hand on his shoulder and felt himself being pulled gently backwards. He turned around and was greeted by the brunette's big round tits coming right at his face. "You don't want to get left out, do you, baby?" Two slender arms wrapped around his head and hugged him into a pair of deliciously warm tits. There was a temptation to stay right there, but when he felt her arms let go, he knew it was time to step back.

"I could've stayed in there all night," Henry said. The heavy smell of her perfume still in his nose.

"When I come inside, find me for a dance and you just might," she said stroking his tie than running her fingers through his hair.

A waitress in a short, tight fitting black dress came up to Henry and his friends. "If you gentlemen are done with the appetizer, I can show you the main course."

Reluctantly Rob let go of the redhead's tit. "Is the left one just as good?"

"You're gonna have to come the next time you get married to find out, honey," she said as she kissed the tip of her finger and pressed it against his nose.

"Let's go Rob, the night is just starting," Henry said as he dropped some cash in the tip box on the floor in front of the girls. Rob walked away waving to the redhead who smiled and gave him a cute little finger wiggle wave back.

Henry couldn't figure out why Rob loved these places so much and came to them weekend after weekend. They were fun once in a great while with some friends if you wanted a wild night, but the fact was they were pointless. A guy walked in horny, with lots of money, and with high expectations. Later he walked out broke, just as horny, only now he was frustrated because none of his expectations were met. He always reminded himself what Chris Rock said, "No matter what a stripper says. No matter how hot she is. There is no sex in the Champagne Room."

The waitress led them past a set of burgundy velvet curtains into the actual club itself. Body Language had a main floor and a mezzanine. There were leather cushioned chairs that either surrounded the main stage, two side stages, and the main bar. The walls and tables were polished wood and accented with polished brass. Men of all ages sat around the stages and bar with their eyes glued to the dancers on stage, some of whom were performing some impressive gymnastic routines on the poles bolted to the stage floor.

Others walked the floor and tried to entice some of the men into a private dance in one of the champagne rooms. Rob dragged his feet as he stopped to stare at the performances on each stage. Henry had to keep going back for him to make sure he didn't get lost from the group. The bachelor party was brought to a more secluded area with a white leather couch that arced around in a half moon shape with three small tables for drinks in front of them. The music and the thumping bass that accompanied it created a perfect rhythm which the girls swayed their hips, shook their asses, and undulated their bodies to. In other words, they spoke with their bodies.

The waitress showed them all to their seats. "Who's the man of the hour?" she asked.

"Right here," Henry said and patted Rob's shoulder. The rest of the guys echoed Henry and gave another small cheer.

"Perfect, I'll make sure our ladies know. In the meantime, make yourselves comfortable, the entertainment is going to start soon. Is everyone drinking beer?" All of them nodded their agreement. "Alright, it'll be here waiting for you," she said and threaded her way through the other customers and girls towards the bar.

No sooner had Henry and his friends sat down when girls started stepping up to the couch. One petite girl with rich brown waterfall curls reached over the back of the large piece of furniture and put her arms around someone's neck. One tall slender honey blonde with bangs did the same but rested her chin on a broad shoulder to whisper in his ear. Another with deep copper skin and long naturally curly hair gently ran her finger down a jawline. A short curvy Latina with poker straight hair occupied one of Henry's friend's lap. The intention was all the same, make this guy think that this girl was just dying to give him a private dance.

Henry noticed some of them were hesitant because of how expensive the place looked. This didn't last long when the girls turned the charm on. One by one the guys were led off by the girl who approached them to some private dance, each girl in a different costume. Two girls, a blonde and a brunette both dressed like a sexy teacher, began to lead Rob away. Henry stopped them both before they left.

"Do not talk to this man about money. Anything he wants, you come to me and I'll take care of it."

Both girls' eyes grew as wide as poker chips. "Oh, your friend must like you," they said to rob, "because we aren't cheap."

"Be gentle with him ladies," Henry said.

Both of them laughed. "Oh, he's not gonna want to leave when we're done with him," the brunette said. Each took a hand and lead him to one of the private rooms. Henry sighed and wondered if he'd have to take out a second mortgage to pay Rob's night.

"Well, I guess that just leaves you, handsome," came a voice from behind. Henry felt a pair of soft slender arms encircle his and a tight little body lean against him. Long fingernails traced up and down his bicep very gently and gave him little goosebumps. Henry knew they had to say things like "sexy" or 'baby" or "honey" to entice the customers.

"Wow," the girl at his side said squeezing his arm. "You're actually really solid." At 35 Henry tried to keep himself in shape by lifting and taking a few classes a week at the local boxing gym. He was starting to grey around his temples and was getting some salt in his closely trimmed beard.

He looked down to his right and was greeted by a pair of hazel eyes and thick wavy chestnut hair in a pair of long pigtails. She was in a skimpy schoolgirl outfit; red and black plaid micro-skirt, white buttoned-down shirt tied in a knot to show off her tight flat tummy and diamond belly button ring. She had on a pair of white knee-high socks and black high heel baby dolls. What completed the look were a pair of round glasses that sat on her cute little nose. Henry tried to hide his excitement, but it was too late, she saw his eyes almost fall out if his head. She giggled a little and stepped in front of him.

"You like what you see?" she asked and did a little twirl. He skirt lifted a little and Henry was treated to a glimpse of her tight, smooth little tush. When she faced him again her perfect handful size D-cup tits shook and jiggled under her white shirt. The material was so thin he could see her nipples through it.

"I'm not supposed to, but yes, very much," he said. Something about this girl seemed very familiar to him, but he shrugged it off and just concentrated on the sexy vision before him.

A confused look came across her face. "Why aren't you supposed to like me?"

"I'm a college professor. There's got to be something, somewhere that says I shouldn't enjoy seeing a young lady in a schoolgirl outfit," Henry said.

"Oh, I see," she said.

"Yeah. But... good Lord, I really do like what I see."

She giggled again. "Good, because I like what I see," she said. Henry was in a pair of jeans with a grey button-down vest over a light blue shirt and black tie. She reached up to straighten his tie and then ran her hands down his chest. "God, solid here, too," she said as she gently pushed against his pecs. Henry smiled. He knew it was part of the act, she had to make him smile and shower him with compliments to get him to go with her. She took his hand and started to walk backwards. "Well, I'm Sierra. So, if you come with me, tonight you get to be a little bad, cause I'm gonna be a very naughty student for you."

"Uh oh. Are we talking detention bad, or suspension bad?" Henry asked.

"Oh, I may get expelled for what I have in store for you," she said and turned to lead him to a private room. Henry couldn't take his eyes off the way her micro-skirt shook with the sexy sway of her hips. Again, something nagged at him that he'd seen this girl before. The smile, the set of full lips, and the hazel eyes behind circular glasses. But where?

She led him to an open door down a short hall of private rooms. "What's your name, professor?"

"Henry, but my students call me Dr. Clayton."

"Well, what do I call you? Henry or Dr. Clayton?" she asked as she guided him into the private room.

"I guess if we're gonna keep the fantasy going, then Dr. Clayton it is," he said.

Sierra giggled. "Just like when I was in your class," she said as she closed the door.

Henry stopped and spun around to look at the young girl in pigtails. He felt like a thunderbolt had just struck him. His eyes squinted in the dim light of the private room; it took only a minute to really focus on her when his face became a mask of shock mixed with fear.

"Isabelle!?"

"Surprise," said and clasped her hands behind her back. She twisted her body back and forth looking at him with a wicked little smirk on her face. Henry's eyes were instinctively drawn to her swaying braless tits under her shirt. He regained his senses and looked away than up to her face.

"Isabelle! Holy shit, what are you doing here?"

"Working. What are you doing here, professor?" she asked wondering why her respectable college instructor was in a strip club.

"My friend's bachelor party. What happened? You finished school and got your degree. I thought you were trying to get into the Master's program for Public History. You said you wanted to work in a museum," Henry said.

Isabelle was a Teaching Assistant for Henry two years ago, and she was damn good at it. She took care of keeping his papers in order, keeping track of his calendar, and grading all of the multiple-choice tests/quizzes. She also had a great mind for History and there was no doubt she would go far. He even trusted her so much he assigned her to teach one of his classes as well. Henry was there for her graduation. Posed for a few pictures with her for her family and that was the last he saw of her. He told her that if she needed it, he would write a glowing recommendation for her that would ensure she'd get into any school she wanted.

Now, here she stood in front of him, heavy amounts of makeup on her face, flecks of glitter sparkling on the exposed part of her chest and cleavage and wearing a skimpy schoolgirl outfit that she was ready to take off for him for money.

"I decided that I didn't want to take out more loans and spend the rest of my life paying them back. So, I thought about what were some ways to make a lot of money, fast. I'd gone to dancing school from the time I was three until I was eighteen, I'm in good shape, it seemed like a no brainer," she said.

He couldn't fault her logic. School loans were an anchor around the necks of a lot of kids. Henry got lucky and was able to work his way through school, but the costs nowadays were a hell of a lot higher than when he was earning his Master's. Never mind the cost for his Ph.D. Still, a strip club? "Isabelle, I... I don't..."

"You don't what?" She crossed her arms and fixed him with a serious look. The pose pushed her tits up and together and almost spilled out of her low buttoned shirt. "I don't do drugs like some of the other girls. I don't let anyone touch me, and never propositioned myself to the guys who come in here. I'm living with 2 other people to keep my living costs down, and as of today I have close to sixty thousand dollars saved up," Isabelle said. "Another year of this and I'll be able to pay for school all by myself. No loans, no jumping through hoops to get some measly scholarship or grant. Just me."

Henry sighed and raised his eyebrows. She was right. It might not be the most respectable way to do it, but she was going to accomplish her goals on her own. "And, like you, I came far enough away from the school so no one knows me."

"You're right. You're a hundred percent right. I'm in no position to judge you. Especially since you seem to be keeping yourself pointed in the right direction," he conceded.

A knock came at the door. "Sierra, you good?"

"Shit," she hissed. "Yeah, I'm fine." She looked up at the corner of the room and pushed Henry back into the cushioned chair. "Sit down. They're going to get pissed at me for not dancing."

"What!?" Henry's eyes looked like they were going to fall out of his head. "I can't be in here with you."

"Why?" Isabelle put her hands on her hips, a look of insult on her face.

"Isabelle, you were my student. I've got to be violating some kind of ethics or law somewhere," Henry explained.

"Dr. Clayton, I'm twenty-three," she rolled her eyes. "In case you weren't aware, I'm an adult. I was an adult when I was your student. You never laid a hand on me back in school, and I would never say you did." Isabelle walked over to Henry sitting in the chair. "Now like it or not, I brought you in here and I have to dance for you." She jumped back into her character as Sierra and began to walk with a slow and sexy sway in her hips. She noticed that while Henry may be uncomfortable about a former student about to give him a lap dance, he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Fine, I'll just look at the wall," Henry said as he tuned his head.

Isabelle grabbed his face and turned it back to her. "Uh-uh! They watch us in here for security." She pointed up to the dome camera in the high corner of the room. They think you aren't enjoying the show, I get in trouble. You try something I don't like; you get in trouble." She stepped over to the wall where an MP3 player was embedded. "So, like you used to say in class, 'Eyes on me!'".

She turned and bent slightly at the waist as she scrolled through the playlist. Henry was treated to a long look at the small patch of red material covering her pussy. She pressed the play button and the music started. Henry gulped and Isabelle started swaying her hips to the music. He recognized the song, Cheyenne from Jason Derulo. "Do you remember this song? It was really popular when I was in your class."

Henry took a deep breath and knew he shouldn't be here or look away. The beat thumped over the speakers and her body obeyed its rhythm.

Isabelle slinked around the chair and stood behind Henry. She raised her arms up over her head and gently laid them on his shoulders than slowly ran them down Henry's chest to his stomach than back up to his shoulders, her hips gyrating in a circle to the music. She moaned in appreciation. "Dr. Clayton, I had no idea you're so solid. Always covered under those button-down shirts and ties."

Henry could feel himself get a little lightheaded as she ran her hands over him. She stepped back around the chair and stood next to him, swinging her hips right next to his head.

Look what we started, baby! You're not what I expected cause, all I ever wanted was some fun!

She laid her hand on his shoulder and bent over at the hips as she placed her other hand on his lap. Her button-down shirt fell open giving him a perfect view down it at her big D-cup tits.

Look what we started baby, I used to look for exits cause all I ever wanted was some fun!

She lifted her leg and placed it on the chair between his legs than ran her hand down her smooth skin. She leaned over again and gave him another look down her shirt at her big soft tits.

Cheyenne!

She took her leg back down and did a slow turn than gyrated her hips which made her plaid micro-skirt flip up which gave him a view of her tight ass cheeks. She slowly spread her legs and dropped to the floor than stood back up. Henry's eyes were glued to her, any idea he may have had of looking away were replaced by his hard-wired instinct to take in how sexy she was.

Isabelle slowly stepped around to the back of his chair and ran her hands down his chest than back up and ran her fingers through his hair. Henry felt like little jolts of electricity were coursing through his skull at her touch. She slowly stepped to the front of his chair giving him a view of her ass and lifted her arms up over her head. She swung her hips and arched her back to make her ass stick out than bent over at her hips and gave him a perfect view of her ass.

Again, he got a good long look at her little muff covered by the small patch of red material from her G-string. She stood up straight again and looked over her shoulder at Henry.