Shylo Morra - Early Days

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Shylo Morra, undergrad in Psychology, learns to Peel.
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Part 1 of the 20 part series

Updated 06/10/2023
Created 01/23/2021
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2soon2no
2soon2no
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Doctor Shylo Morra

Doctorate in Psychology

Specializing in Sexual Psychology

I put myself through University with a full scholarship, thanks to my excellent grades in High School, but I needed a part time job to cover extra expenses.

I was in the second year of my studies in Sociology and Psychology so I decided that I would try a job that I have fantasized about for years, but how do you get started in the mysterious world of Exotic Dancing?

I did not even own anything very sexy, but I did keep myself in very good shape. I am a dedicated swimmer. So dedicated in fact, that I chose my school based on their aquatic program! I could swim nearly any time of day, so it was a perfect exercise for a student who had to spread their time around the clock due to early classes, night classes and a part time job.

The first club I went to was the one club within walking distance to my dorm, so that was the full extent of my research. I walked there right after my first class on a Wednesday.

Autumn in New York could be magical, and this was one of those days. The trees were changing colour fast, and the heat of summer was gone, replaced by the cool breezes from Canada. My mind was at ease, while I silently but purposefully strode up to The Gingerbread House. The front door seemed like the right path, so I walked right in.

A middle aged woman was righting the chairs in a gloomy dank room. No smells of Gingerbread, only smoke, and not a specific smoke, but a mix of cigarette and cigar and pot and other things somehow sweeter?

The lady finally looked over. "Who you looking for?" she asked with a tired and uncaring look.

"I'm looking for some part time work," I responded in a tone, more like a question than a statement.

"They're always looking for peelers, if you're over 18, but that's all the work available here," she said with a bit of a sneer and a narrowing of the eyes. "Perfect," I countered.

She looked me up and down, and with a huff she pointed to a door to the left of the brass lined bar.

"Ben is the man to see, in the office."

"I hope you brought condoms," she cackled, as I headed for the door.

That almost broke me.

I didn't want a stripper job to get sex, I could get plenty of that! I wanted the experience of exposing myself sexually, and then I would gradually gain the mental and physical discipline of being totally in charge of my sexuality. It was my intention to learn the sex trade intimately, and from the inside, but I was not ready to give some manager a hummer for a part time job.

I knocked on the door, and waited.

"Yeah, come in," was bellowed from behind the door.

Ben was a 30 something accountant type. Bad skin, left over from puberty was my first thought, though he did look like he stayed in fair shape.

He quickly looked up from a computer screen and showed a bit of surprise as he saw a stranger, but he recovered fast and managed to say, "How can I help you," then added, "Good Looking," as his brain caught up with his mouth.

I quickly scanned the room before starting my impromptu job interview.

"Hi, I am a student, and I'm looking for part time work as an exotic dancer."

He looked me up and down. I'm sure he saw a pretty, petite blonde, with good teeth, and a clear complexion,

"Driver's License," he muttered and held out his hand expectantly.

I unzipped my jacket, and pulled my little purse from its perch below my shoulder. Searching inside I found my I.D. and passed it over. Ben got a better look at my figure.

"Hmm," he said, as he held my card in his hand, not having looked at it yet. He continued to stare at me, peering deeper into a mystery.

"I will have to see more," he said.

"Oh, of course," I said, trying hard to hide my nervousness.

I proceeded to take off my jacket, and looking around the cluttered office, I saw a coat rack and I placed my coat on a hook.

Turning back to my prospective employer, I grabbed my sweatshirt, cross-handed, at the waist, and pulled up with both hands. He was still sitting there, with his hand extended, card in hand, looking at my breasts as they bounced free from their confines so quickly.

Just as my nipples stopped bouncing he continued.

"I meant more I.D. miss," he said with a giant smile forming on his face. He brought the license into focus, to see my date of birth, then he brought his eyes back to my face.

"Now I sure hope you have another picture I.D., cause I can't hire you without it, Miss Morra," he said with a big smile.

I found my student card, and my student health I.D., and he took them both and moved to a photocopier against the wall. While he was busy aligning my documents, so that he could copy them all in one effort, I was kicking off my running shoes.

When he turned towards me, to continue his ogling of my breasts, I was pulling down my track pants. I usually wore knickers, but they were all so ugly that I hadn't bothered. After all, I knew what they wanted to see.

"Do you need to see me dance?" I asked, as I noted the look of surprise on his face.

There was a very long pause, as he drank in the scene. I did the one dance move I thought I could get away with. I went up on my right tip-toe, and did a near perfect, though slow, pirouette. I doubt that he could see how moist and aroused I was, but he had seen enough.

"What nights can you work?" he said in a hushed voice.

Friday and Saturday were the busiest days of the week, and they fit my schedule perfectly. Ben had suggested that I show up an hour early, to get a feel for the crowd, and maybe learn a few moves. I had confided in him that I was not a skilled dancer, and he wasn't too concerned.

"Sometimes the skilled dancers are the worst," he said. "Stripping requires dancing skills that few people practice in real life."

I was not a scholarship student without having the discipline of being prepared, so I came out on Thursday night to see just what I was getting into.

I didn't know anyone with the exception of the manager Ben, but ladies were free so I went through the outer door and found a bouncer sitting there, checking I.D.'s. I pulled my coat off, expecting my sexy look to give me an easy pass, but he raised his burly arm to stop me. I automatically went for my driver's license, but he had something else in mind.

"We don't let hookers in sugar," he said as he undressed me with his eyes. "Damn! I could make an exception... for a taste?" he continued with a twinkle in his eye. I hurriedly explained my position to him, and dropped Ben's name, which seemed to grease the wheel a bit.

"If I find out your playin me, I'll be all over you, in more ways than one," he threatened, but now he was much friendlier. "Where did you dance before?" he inquired.

I told him that I was a newbie and would appreciate any help I could get, but there would be no "tasting" for the effort. He laughed and took my hand while opening the inner door, he escorted me in and personally led me to an open table.

There was a haze in the air, although there was no fog machine, and no smoking. The steady stream of people out the back door to 'burn one' brought fresh smoke into the place with every visit. The deejay had a deep resonant voice, rather sexy I thought.

As I scanned the room I realized many eyes were turned to me. I had done some shopping, and I wore a short black skirt and a button up tuxedo shirt that I trust up at the waist with a light red scarf. I had hit the eye liner much harder than usual, and extended my eye lashes with the help of the cosmetics lady at the drugstore. I told her I was planning a special night for my boyfriend, so she had done a professional job of it. I wore some fake leather high boots. Not the thigh length, but just to below the knee.

A topless waitress approached and I was shocked to see someone I knew!

Gena was in my Social Economics class. I recognized her right away, even though I had never seen those perky tits! Gina stood about 5 ft. 3 and weighed in at 105 tops. Her cute figure was adorned with nice B cups with large areolas that were the same pink as her lipstick. She always wore the cutest outfits, and her makeup and hair were always perfect. I had unconsciously placed her in the 'airhead looking for a hookup' category, since I couldn't imagine a serious student putting an hour into her looks every day.

"Hi, Gena isn't it?" I said with a smile. "Funny seeing you here". She had no idea who I was, since I always wear loose fitting clothes and very little make up to school. My preparation was usually a shower, and a brush.

"Yes, I do know you!" she gushed with both surprise and pleasure. I was so glad that she was not the least bit embarrassed about working topless at a Strip Club.

"Are you meeting your boyfriend here?" she asked with an emphasis on 'here?' "No, I'm starting tomorrow, so I thought I would see what I was getting into," I responded.

"Here?" again she interjected. "You do know that all of the waitstaff are topless right?"

I smiled again and told her that I would be "stripping", and her pretty little mouth formed into an "O" as she continued.

"You're not kidding, are you?"

"Wow, you are a brave one!"

"I hope you have a backbone made of steel, and eyes in the back of your head, cause these guys are all hands and lips, and you never know which you're going to get!"

I assured her that my backbone was steady, but my dance skills were not.

"Well, you just sit tight, cause Kara is up next, and you will see some real moves from her," Gena replied, and asked what I was drinking? I told her soda water was good, but she wouldn't have it.

"You will need something more, and every Dick in this bar would love to buy it for you," she turned, balancing her tray perfectly, and headed over to one of the tables with an older gentleman and a pretty girl about half his age. Gena was very friendly with them, giving extra attention to the man, with a lingering hand on his well muscled arm. She gestured towards me, and they both turned to look, while I looked casually about the room. Soon enough I had something fruity and tall to sip on, and Gena assured me that it was drug free, but warned me, that I had to keep an eagle eye on it, cause there were 'predators about'.

My patron did not turn when Gina explained where the drink came from.

"All I had to do was tell him that you are a new dancer," she informed me.

"He has a different girl just about every time he comes in here, and they are not Pro's," she confided, in a hushed voice.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," boomed the deejay, "Please welcome to the stage, our feature performer, the beautiful, seductress Kara!"

The applause was not very welcoming, but the next dancer jumped out from behind the curtain, and her chosen music belted out right on cue.

I could have fallen off my chair, she was so... well endowed! Her flaming red hair was cut to a page-boy look, but that was the only masculine thing about this temptress.

She was about 5 and a half feet tall, and her breasts defied the sizes! Do they make FF bras? She wore a thong that matched her hair color, and stiletto heels that made her look tall.

As she approached the pole in the center of the stage, she sashayed from side to side with her hips and head, but her massive chest stayed center stage, putting on a pouty face she gave her breasts a jiggle. She wrapped her fun bags around the pole, and tilted her head to one side in a very seductive pose, then, when the music hit a change of pace, she jumped three feet in the air and grabbed the pole with both hands and pulled herself up, while bringing her legs all the way up, then she extended her body even higher with a reverse pull up. Her feet were a full 12 feet above the stage!

With a tilt outwards, she swung her legs in a spiral, and loosened her grip to let her body swing around as it descended.

What had I gotten myself into! If I tried that, I would be on my way to the hospital about now. Her moves were highly choreographed and her smile never left her face as she played the pole like a familiar lover. She could hold herself up with just the pressure of her thighs, and she often let herself fall, as much as 6 feet, before stopping her descent with an audible squeak from the friction grip of her thighs! There had to be some muscle behind those curves.

The deejay signaled the end of her performance, "Let's give a big hand to the incredible, gorgeous, AND talented, Kara!

With a few nice gyrations, she disappeared behind the curtain to a polite smattering of applause.

As I clapped, I looked around the room and found that the applause was mostly from the waitresses and other dancers, as they climbed to their feet to give personal dances at tables around the perimeter of the big room. These dances did not look very complex to me. Rolling the hips and bending low at the waist, while peeking at the client from between her legs. I could do that. A bit demeaning, but doable.

My head swept about, drinking it all in. I could feel moisture between my legs as I was attracted to these highly sensual, and beautiful women, and the lustful looks they were receiving.

I jumped a bit as Ben plopped himself down in the chair next to me. "Hey, did you want to start a day early, we're down a few girls," and more conspiratorially, "...we're always down a few girls early in the week."

I tried to convey confidence with a smile, but my words were far less than sure, "I can not ride a pole like that!" I cried, "I can't perform on the big stage!"

Ben nodded and assured me that I would not be called to the main stage until I was comfortable. "If you can see your way to working the floor tonight, I will pay for a dance tutor."

"Can you come in a couple hours early tomorrow, and I'll have someone show you some simple moves."

It was time to cross the Rubicon. I set my shoulders back and put my mind into gear. Ben had instructed me on the rules of conduct, which allowed me to touch the patrons, but they could only touch me when I gave them permission. He explained that the bouncers split 1/4 of all my dance money, but none of the "tips", so they will keep tabs on how often you dance, even to the extent of soliciting an audience for you.

"Out here it's $10 for a lap dance, while the back room starts at $20. and should include some extra seduction, therefore it is more intimate, but still did not give the guys the right to touch anything without direction."

I nodded my compliance, and stood to give it my best shot.

"Come on back," Ben said, "and I'll introduce you to Colon, the deejay and Carol, the stage manager."

Carol was a tall black woman with a gigantic purple wig! Her shoulders made me wonder if she was a cross-dresser, but her hips and feet were too small. Her full figure made me think, power forward, with tits.

Her outfit was more like a costume, with a fitted sequined purple jacket with pink, yellow and lime green glitter. She wore white hot pants, with more silver and gold glitter along the seams and cuffs. Her thigh length purple velour boots had only 1 inch of heel, but that was the only thing about her that was not 'far out there'!

The tailored jacket hid her figure a bit, but I could still tell that she had plenty of curves, and her attitude showed me a confidence that could only be achieved with years. So I had to guess that she was mid 40's, but she could still command the attention of a room of both sexes.

Carol showed me the lockers, and suggested that I leave the key with her after I planted my coat and purse within it.

"If you can't trust me darling, you will find that your coat and purse will be a small price to pay to find out."

Her logic was good, so I complied.

She showed me the 'Emerald Room' for private dances, and whispered, "Nothing is private from me, back here."

"We don't have the muscle back here unless needed," she confided. "They drool too much."

"They will come fast enough when their ladies are upset, so don't worry, we have your back!"

When I came out front Colon must have been watching for me.

"Ladies and Gents, let me be the first to introduce our newest talent for the very first time!"

"Standing 5 foot 6, and topping 110 pounds when she's totally wet, and we do hope to see her totally wet, ha ha, the student we all wanted to sit next to,... the stunning Shylo".

Heads jerked up, and Colon continued with his intro.

"She is another beauty that we discovered locally, and she is available, as are all of our honey's for only 10 bucks."

"So pull out your wallets, and put your tongues back in your heads fellas, and you too Gena!"

Everyone had a good chuckle as I put on my best smile, shifted my hips much more than normal, and walked over to an area with no dancers. Hands went up with cash, so I went to the closest one and introduced myself to Bob, a balding man in his 40's, with his three friends of equal disposition.

A lot of eyes were on me. I saw other dancers and bouncers watching me with daggers and spoons. That is, the other strippers were checking out the competition, and the bouncers were checking out their latest meal ticket.

I could also see Ben watching, as he should be, to make sure his latest girl could handle the attention.

As the next song started I rose to dance.

Steven Tyler started to sing 'Dream On'. Well, I'd never stripped to anything, so it might as well be a good song. A small platform, about 16 inches high, had been placed between the legs of my patron.

I jumped up, making my breasts bounce under my shirt, but only I could tell. I moved quickly to get my sash off, but tried to keep it sensual. Then I draped it around Bob's neck, with a bit of a tease, pulling him in, then dropping it in his lap.

Next came the buttons. I knew there was a total change in tempo coming up, so I undid the top three standard white buttons slowly, while swinging my hips to the music. Then, facing Bob, just before the tempo shifted I pulled my collar out with both hands, and peered down the inside of the shirt with mock horror and a pursing of my lips.

When the tempo slammed into high gear, I slammed my hands down with force. The bottom four buttons were just snaps with a white button exterior.

My tits burst onto the scene as I arched my back and pulled my shoulders back to give them the entire room to fill!

And they did!

All sound seemed to stop, except for the music. Every head was turned, and I know I heard a gasp as the sudden flaunting of my rack caught everyone off guard.

Like an exhibitionist, I stood still for a count of five. Then continued my dance. Gena let out a "Yeah!" And clapped her hands in appreciation.

I peeled the shirt off as I twisted around in time to the music, then I positioned my butt towards my client, and bent down to my knees. I peeked at Bob first from one side of my knees, then the other as the tune made me move. I saw that Bob's eyes were glued to my crotch. That brought a little tingle to my pussy and I could feel my labia start to plump up.

I decided to reward his attention.

I swung around, still bent over deeply, and brought my face close to Bob's. He had to look me in the eye, cause the good bits were behind and under me. I saw him mouth the word "wow", so I gave him a treat, and raised myself, while undulating and thrusting my hips forward, I brought my hands to the large button on my hot pants and flicked it open, then pulled the zipper down all the way.

Bob was still devouring my tits with his eyes, while his tongue kept darting out of his mouth in an effort to keep his lips moist. Again I swung around and offered him my ass. My hands came up to the hem of the short pants and I started to tug them downwards. All three of Bob's buddies were craning their necks to see the prize, but a sudden tug brought my pants to my ankles, and revealed the black thong.

2soon2no
2soon2no
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