Strip Club Surprise

"Gentlemen, put your hands together and welcome to the stage, the lovely Bianca."

With his half-hearted announcement, the Paradise Club's DJ, likely a frustrated AM radio announcer, garnered a smattering of applause from the sparse early evening audience. The club had been much busier a few hours earlier when I arrived, but many of the patrons had now departed along with many of the dancers on the early shift. I was working on my third beer and would likely join them as soon as I was done, before things picked up again later in the evening.

Visiting this strip club was a guilty pleasure for me, something I did maybe once a month when I had the urge to have beautiful young women rub their tits in my face and stroke my cock during lap dances in the Champagne Rooms downstairs. Afternoons were always better than evenings, because there were fewer bouncers around, and the girls who were willing go bend a few of the rules for a few extra bucks were well aware of that. Occasionally I'd get offers for a blowjob or even a fuck after a couple of dances, but I always resisted; the booths in the Champagne Rooms weren't exactly comfortable or entirely private.

That aside, the Paradise Club was my go-to spot. The female talent was always top-notch, the waitresses were all beautiful enough to be dancing onstage if they'd chosen to, and it was located about 40 minutes away from where I lived. I suppose that meeting someone you know in a strip club shouldn't be embarrassing; after all, you're both there. But since I always went alone, I wasn't exactly crazy about running into a bunch of buddies who were out celebrating a promotion or a bachelor's party together.

There was a certain thrill about going to a club —the free-flowing beer, the gorgeous woman always on the hustle, and the mystery of what might happen in the dark booths downstairs. To be honest, I probably wouldn't have had to pay for any kind of female companionship if I'd tried a bit harder to maintain relationships with women. I was in decent shape and wasn't bad-looking, and I did very well running a tech company. Money wasn't an issue, but at times, I spent too much time focussing on work. My last girlfriend told me she'd really miss my cock, but she needed it inside her more than once a week. It was a fair criticism. I'd been single for the past four months, and aside from a couple of one-night stands, I hadn't had much action of late.

That afternoon, I'd enjoyed the company of three ladies in the private rooms, the first a blonde with big tits — not normally my type — but very insistent. As I feared, she was all talk and no action, and after two dances where she'd barely gotten naked or touched me, I thanked her for her time and paid her $40. She acted as if it was the first time ever a guy had stopped so soon, but I highly doubt it was. I watched her go up and down the stairs half a dozen more times, and the guys she'd suckered into dancing for them never looked happy when they returned to their seats after having spent roughly the same amount of time with her as I had.

The second was a skinny young redhead with small tits —again not my type — who nevertheless looked a bit sad because she wasn't getting any private dances, despite approaching every guy in the club. I took pity on her and quickly regretted my decision. She wasn't much to look at and she had a lot to learn about entertaining a man in the private booths. I vowed to be more selective in the future. I wasn't a social worker.

The visit would have been a complete write-off if it hadn't been for Martina, a statuesque Latina who definitely knew what she was doing in the Champagne Room. She had taken off her bra, exposing her enhanced breasts, the minute the music started, and her G-string disappeared a few moments later. She smothered me with her body, encouraging me to play with her prominent nipples as she stroked my cock throughout the five dances she gave me. With her other hand, she was furiously rubbing her clit, and several times she ran her wet fingers over my lips.

There was no discussion of extras — possibly because we'd never met before, and some strippers had asked me the past if I was a cop — but it likely wouldn't have been out of the question. I finally called it quits because I was afraid there'd be a mess in my shorts if we went any longer. I gave her a tip and a hug, and promised to look for her the next time I came to the club.

I hadn't really checked out "the lovely Bianca" when she took the stage, but I started to pay more attention as she showed off her dance moves. There was something familiar about her; I couldn't recall having seen her at the club before, but I knew I'd met her some place.

Then it hit me. Her name wasn't Bianca. It was Kelly, and she was the live-in girlfriend of my college roommate Connor. So what the hell was she doing here, taking off her clothes for strange men and doing God knows what with them in the Champagne Room?

I was so mesmerized by her that I barely noticed when the waitress came and asked if I'd like another beer. I readily agreed; there was no way I was bailing now, even if I had to call an Uber to get home.

I hadn't heard from Connor in a while, and wondered if he and Kelly were still together. He was extremely charming and good-looking, and while he didn't own his own company like I did, he never seemed to be hurting for cash. That meant he was never without a beautiful girlfriend, and while most of them were bleach blonde bimbos with fake tits and Botoxed lips, occasionally he found a woman who was both smart and attractive. Kelly definitely fell in that camp.

Kelly and I had had a long conversation at a pool party about four months prior. I was captivated by her intelligence, personality and good looks. She was a slim brunette, about 5'9", with long legs a great rack — well proportioned, unlike Connor's previous companions. Her brown eyes were always sparkling. In other words, she was the perfect woman, and I remember feeling extremely jealous of my old friend at the time.

Kelly had told me she was well aware of Connor's past, but she loved him anyway, and they were about to move into a new place together. She was going to continue her MBA studies, There was no mention about any part-time job at the Paradise, though there was no question she had the necessary physical attributes. That night at the party, she was showing a lot of side boob in her plunging black top, and her exquisite ass and legs were well displayed in the tight Lycra shorts and heels she was wearing.

Connor had noticed me mentally undressing his girlfriend, because later that night he called me on it. He admitted he asked her to dress sexy to turn on his friends, and that she had no problem with that. Apparently she had a healthy libido, to the point that my sex-crazed friend had trouble keeping up with her. He also confided she was the best fuck he'd ever had, and this was coming from a guy who had plenty of women to compare her to. So I suppose it wasn't a complete stretch to see her working in a strip club.

I was seated at a table about eight feet from the stage, so I was able to watch Kelly doing her thing without her noticing me. I probably drooled when she took off her bikini top, exposing the amazing boobs that I'd been fantasizing about ever since I'd met her. She moved confidently around the stage, occasionally swinging on the pole, giving all the customers a good look at her toned body.

As her second song game to an end, she was lying face down on the stage with her head in her hands, staring in my direction. As the DJ announced she'd be taking a short break before her final dance, our eyes met, and there was a look of horror on her face as she recognized me.

She picked up her discarded top and quickly left the stage, disappearing into the small dressing room adjacent to the DJ booth. I didn't know if it would be the last I'd see of her, or whether I should depart. But I figured if I did that, it would be extremely awkward the next time I saw her with Connor, assuming they were still together.

As the break song ended, Kelly re-emerged somewhat tentatively, wrapped in a blanket that she laid down on the stage. She was now completely naked, and started dancing to Whitesnake's Here I Go Again, a strip club classic. I noticed she was giving most of the patrons a good look at her pussy as she writhed on the stage, but she seemed to be making a point of not spreading her legs when she was facing me.

Now I was really confused. Was she only out there finishing off her set because she thought she'd get fired for refusing to do so? Did she want me to leave so that both of us could pretend this never happened? As the song ended, she got an enthusiastic round of applause from the patrons, myself included. She got to her feet without acknowledging us, wrapped the blanket around her and fled to the dressing room as quickly as she had the first time.

This wasn't the charming and outgoing Kelly that I'd met at the party. I started to worry about her. Maybe she was still with Connor and he didn't know she was working as a stripper, and she was worried I was going to rat her out. Or that I was going to request some time with her the Champagne Room, and she didn't want to get naked for me.

A few minutes later, she emerged from the dressing room, dressed in a tight white crop top that didn't quite cover the bottom of her exquisite breasts, and a pair of jean shorts that covered her pussy but not much else. A number of the other customers called out to her, obviously looking to take her downstairs for a private dance, but she made a beeline to my table and sat down next to me.

"Forgive me for not asking if you want my company," she began. "We need to talk. But not here. It's too loud. Do you mind if we go downstairs?"

This could have been the best stripper hustle line in history, but I suspected it wasn't. And I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to spend some private time with this gorgeous creature, even if she kept the very limited clothing she was wearing in place.

"Far be it from me to turn down that offer," I responded, finishing off my beer. "Before we go, can I buy you a drink? Maybe a glass of bubbly?"

"I think I'm going to need more than one. Want to share a bottle?"

I briefly considered how much that was going to set me back, but I was now pretty sure she wasn't just going to tell me to forget what I'd seen and fuck off. I gestured to the waitress and when she came over, I asked her for a bottle of Prosecco and two glasses.

Kelly was right. The constant hip hop music made it nearly impossible to hear each other, and it was uncomfortable for me because I could see a number of other customers were glaring at me, wondering why I was monopolizing her time. But it didn't take long for the waitress to return with our order, and we headed down to the private rooms.

"Lucky bastard!" one drunk called out as we passed him. Kelly and I both ignored him.

Kelly led me through the maze of booths. There was more action than I would have expected, and some of the dancers and their clients were clearly engaged in activities would get them in trouble with the bouncers. I noticed Martina, the dancer I'd been with earlier, down on her knees aggressively swallowing some guy's dick. In the next booth, an attractive brunette appeared to be riding another guy's cock. Why else would his pants be around his knees? Needless to say, there were no bouncers in sight at the moment.

"Oh good," Kelly said, as we arrived at a booth at the end of a short corridor. "This is my favourite spot. Nobody should bother us here."

I didn't know what to expect as I put the bottle and the glasses down on the small table next to the cheap vinyl-covered bench where I'd be sitting. The expression on Kelly's face gave me no indication as to her intentions.

"Look, I know this is a bit weird, and I admit I kinda freaked out when I saw you upstairs," she began. "The main reason I decided to dance at this place is that I thought it was far enough away from home that I wouldn't run into anyone I know."

"This is by far the best club in the area," I responded. "Not that I'm an expert or anything."

Kelly had sat down on the stool in front of the chair and watched as I popped the cork. After I filled them, we clinked our glasses."

"I don't want to pry, and I'm certainly not being judgmental," I said. "After all, I'm a customer in a strip club, so I'm hardly a saint. But do you mind if I ask why you're working here?"

Kelly's eyes welled up and she downed half her glass in one swig. She was about to respond when I noticed a shadow at the entrance to our booth. Seconds later, a bouncer appeared.

"Bianca honey, you know the rules," he said. "Usually I'm reminding you about what you can't do in here, but if you're going to use a booth, you have to be dancing. Pretty soon there's going to be a lineup, and we can't afford to have our girls just drinking and chatting with the customers in here."

"Sure Billy. We just sat down. No worries."

So maybe I was going to get up close and personal with my buddy's girlfriend. My head told me this was wrong, but my cock didn't get the memo. I could feel the bulge in my pants getting bigger.

"You heard the man," Kelly said, and with that, she stood up and pushed the stool to the back of the booth. She knelt on the bench, lowered her body onto mine and squeezed me tight.

"I asked you to come down to explain why I'm here. But truth be told, I was really attracted to you that night we met, and judging by the way you looked at me then, and tonight on stage, I think you might have a thing for me too. So let's have some fun. And don't worry about Connor. He knows I'm here. In fact, he's the main reason I am here."

Before I could respond, Kelly pulled her top over her head. Then she took my hands and placed them on her gorgeous breasts.

"You're allowed to play with my boobs," she said. "I'm not sure if you're comfortable with that, but I certainly am. And just so we get all the ground rules out of the way first, you're welcome to touch me and lick me wherever you want when I'm totally naked."

I was a bit shocked by the turn of events. Half an hour ago, I was ready to head home after a so-so afternoon at a strip club. Now I was alone with the woman of my dreams, who'd just invited me to have my way with her perfect body. Her nipples were rock-hard as I played with them, and she started moaning softly in my ear.

"I don't normally see the need to chat when I'm getting a lap dance," I began. "But what did you mean when you said Connor is the main reason you're here?"

"I'll get to that in a minute," she cooed. "But I want us to get to know each other a bit better first." With that, she stood up, removed her shorts and turned around. Then she bent over and pulled her G-string to one side.

"Like what you see, Tony?" she teased.

The pussy she'd done her best to hide from me when she was dancing on stage was now mere inches from my face. It was all I could do not to reach out and rub her clit, but from what she'd just told me, there'd probably be plenty of opportunity for that. As quickly as she'd taken off her top, she slid the G-string down her long, slender legs and over the stilettos she was still wearing.

Then she sat down on my lap and started grinding my cock. There's no way she couldn't have felt my erection. She continued to hold my hands to her boobs as she rode me. Now it was my turn to moan.

After a few minutes, sensing that I might be on the verge of exploding in my pants, Kelly stood up, turned around, extended her fingers under her cunt and started rubbing. Within seconds, her fingers were wet and she was trembling.

"I love touching myself," she whispered. "But there's nothing better than having a man eat me out."

She pressed herself right up against me, with her pussy in my face. In her heels, she was at the perfect height.

"Ummm, you know I want to," I protested. "But you're still my buddy's girlfriend."

"In a manner of speaking," Kelly interrupted. "I told you I'd explain. But right now, I want your tongue in me."

I didn't need any more encouragement. I plunged my tongue in between the moist folds of her vagina and started slurping her juices. I played with her clit with one hand and rubbed her right breast with the other. She moaned and writhed and at times, I thought she'd lose her balance. After a few minutes of intense rubbing and sucking, she came hard on my tongue.

"Holy fuck that was amazing!" she exclaimed as she caught her breath. "You really know how to make a girl feel good!"

My face was covered with her juices, and she pulled a wet wipe out of her purse to help me clean up.

"I think you've lost a lot of liquid," I joked. "Maybe time to top up our glasses and talk a bit more."

This time, Kelly filled the glasses, then sat sideways on my lap with her arm around me.

"So you still haven't told me why you're doing this," I began. "I mean, you're very good at it and you seem to love your work, but last time we talked, you were getting your MBA and living a happy domestic life with my old college buddy."

"How long has it been since you talked to him?" she inquired rather sharply.

"I dunno," I slurred. "Now that you mention it, I don't think we've been in touch since the party last summer."

"Exactly. That was a week before we signed a lease and moved into the new condo. Except you didn't know, and I certainly didn't know, that Connor was completely broke. He was fired from his job eight months ago and he'd blown all his money on online gambling, so he's up to his eyeballs in debt. How anyone could be so bad at predicting the outcome of sporting events is beyond me, but that's who I ended up with."

"I still don't understand why that means you're here...."

"We were desperate. It wasn't just credit card companies he owes money to. There are some very scary dudes calling us and coming by, threatening both of us. We were on the verge of getting evicted and we even had our electricity and internet cut off for a while. We needed cash fast, and this was the best way we could think of to make some quick cash. I had to quit school, at least for now, but since my name's on the lease, I can't just walk away."

"Jesus Christ! Did it ever occur to him that he could, you know, get a job?" I asked. "I'm the first to admit that he's always been a bit lazy, but to force his intelligent and beautiful girlfriend to go work at the Paradise Club is a bit much, even for him!"

"Thank you for the compliment," she replied. "I wish he'd say stuff like that about me from time to time. But I really don't want to talk about that loser any longer. He claims he's lost all his confidence to go out and look for a new gig, and that he'll somehow get out of this debt hole by doing work online. But as far as I can tell, he's more in debt now than he was a few months ago."

Kelly had emptied her glass and was now stroking my cock through my jeans. Now I'd finished my Prosecco and I started playing with squeezing her nipples, which were still rock-hard from when I'd made her cum.

"I love it when you touch me like that," she said. "In fact, I love it when most men touch me like that. I know this makes me sound like a complete whore, but I love turning men on. The only thing is that I draw the line at fucking. I don't do that unless I have real feelings for the guy. And that's probably why I've pretty much stopped fucking Connor."

"He told me you two used to do it two or three times a day," I responded, immediately regretting it. She might have been sitting naked on my lap after letting me lick her pussy, but I didn't want to sound disrespectful.

"At least twice a day," she said. " Our record was five, if you can believe it. It all seemed so perfect. Too perfect, I guess. And now I'm stuck. I make good money here but one week when I tried to hide some of it in a separate account, he somehow found out. Let's just say it wasn't good. Since then, we've barely touched each other."