Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 02


Suddenly her face went pale as her eyes opened, "Fuck, I signed a contract!" she exclaimed.

She told Dan how Chuck had taken an immediate interest in her when he had met all the girls last month. Dan was not surprised by this, as Chuck's and Dan's tastes in women were similar. To his own chagrin he recalled how Chuck had always ended up with any girls Dan had been interested in when in college. As with most things Chuck did better than Dan, it was not anything intentional, just something that naturally seemed to happen. And last night, without Chuck even knowing he was doing it yet again, he had fucked Dan's own fiancée as naturally as he had every other girl.

Dan pushed down the jealousy he began feeling. Seeing his crestfallen face, Jen asked what he was thinking about and Dan explained.

Jen immediately started tearing up again apologizing. "I don't know what happened, one minute I was sitting with you and Mr. DeWight all worried, and then suddenly I felt like I was the happiest person alive. I became electrified, not having a care in the world. I thought it was too many of the strong drinks, but that doesn't explain how nice it felt when Mr. DeWight touched me," she confided. She explained how his feeling her thigh and eventually rubbing her crotch through her pants—right in front of Dan no less—made her want to be even closer to him.

"I was incredibly hot too," she explained, "almost like a fever, so when he took off my shorts, it did not even seem strange. In fact, it was why I eventually took my thong off as well. Sitting on the other guys' laps felt so cool, and them touching me made me want to be closer to them. I'm so sorry," she said. "I just wanted them to touch me more, I can't explain it—I knew it was not something I would do, but the feeling was so intense, I just had to let them," she explained.

Dan had never done drugs, let alone Ecstasy, but from what little he read it was obvious Jen had felt the effects in some fashion, confirming John's suspicions.

"It just seemed so natural to allow them to touch me," she told him reluctantly. "I'm so sorry Honey," she sobbed.

Again Dan reassured her he was trying to get over it, finally confessing in some fashion it had been a turn-on watching her.

"Yeah, I noticed you were not your usual self last night either," she smiled. "I can honestly say you fucked me good and hard," she grinned with him. "That's the only thing I don't regret," she winked.

Jen told him how Chuck had been urging her to sign a long-term contract to be the 'spokesmodel' of the club ever since meeting them, explaining how she would be earning top dollar for her appearances and become well-off as a Divine Silk Attractions representative. He said her face would be on national advertisements and she would get top billing at any club.

She had refused him each time, telling him she was only dancing to earn enough to get by, and not interested in anything further. Chuck's persistence grew each visit, telling her of all the money she could make and the fame of being one of the top performers for the company.

Chuck had visited the club at least a couple times a week. In fact, it was amazing Dan had not met up with him before now, as they obviously had skirted each other countless numbers of times. Chuck had always left the club before Jen's shift ended, which was the time Dan typically arrived. Dan presumed Chuck had been doing the same thing at the Slithering Lizard, the other club he had purchased.

Dan reluctantly told her what his company's investigative report revealed, and Jen almost flew in a rage at the implications of what Chuck had been trying.

"That slimy son-of-a-bitch," she muttered. "Fuck, what did I get into signing that last night?" she asked in horror.

Dan reasoned since she had signed the contract under the influence it would not hold up in any court, but Jen was still concerned. They agreed she needed to talk to Chuck as soon as possible and give her final notice. Dan offered to go with her, but even Jen admitted it would be better to keep Dan's relationship with her and his familiarity with the club quiet. As with his reasoning, if things worked out, Chuck could just write her off as another one of his dancers he fucked and not his 'friend's' fiancée.

Although Jen was not due to dance again until tomorrow, she usually went in every afternoon to help a few of the girls with their routines—afternoons the only time they club was empty for them to practice as the cleaning crews were usually there in the mornings. She planned on talking to Chuck as soon as she went in, since he had been slowly moving into Willie's old office. It was the first thing he had redecorated in the club she told Dan, admitting he had done a good job.

For the last two weeks Chuck had been working at the club during the days—again Dan upset Jen had not told him, although she had not known who he was, and it would be a good time to sit down and talk to him.

With little for them to do, they made the best of things and enjoyed their morning together. With the potential commissions for the two clubs' purchases coming soon, they worked on their wedding plans, actually getting all the invitations done before Jen had to leave. She was going to drop them off in the mail on the way to the club. They were both excited, they would finally be announcing the date and in two months from that weekend they would become one.

Dan was watching television when Jen came down to go to work. Today she was wearing a tight bright pink satin two-pieced set. The top was a vest-like halter consisted of a low plunging neckline showing off Jen's cleavage to its utmost potential. The vest-like top rode high around her shoulders in a faux collar and Dan knew when she turned around, there was a sexy racer back, as he was the one who had picked out the outfit. The top had three silver breakaway snaps up the middle pulling it tight around Jenny's torso. The bottoms were matching hot shorts with similar snaps up the front of each thigh. Completing the outfit were a pair of 6-inched heeled clear platform shoes with a matching pink ribbon wrapping around her legs up to her knees.

The girls had learned early in their careers to practice in their 'work clothes' as it often helped to know how the outfits would look and behave when doing their routines. All of them had shared horror stories of wardrobe malfunctions, when you were doing an intricate flip or twirl on the pole the last thing you needed was a stray piece of cloth falling under your heels!

Jen looked amazing—which was one of the reasons Dan hated her working at the club. With her long brunet hair and tall 5'10" curvy athletic 36D-24-34 body she was every man's fantasy. Dan recalled somebody telling them she looked like Adrienn Levai, a Hungarian model, and they had looked her up and been amazed how Jen and the model could have been doubles.

Since Dan was home for the day Jen would be able to drive to work, so did not have to wear any street clothes to the club. She had her usual tote bag of cosmetics, music CD's, Wet Wipes, and extra thongs in her hand, and giving Dan a quick kiss, said goodbye. Dan wished her luck with Chuck wondering how they guy could possibly turn down the beautiful woman walking out the door.

The afternoon was uneventful as Dan watched a few TiVo'd movies he had missed, but then the anal retentiveness of his job caught up with him and he read through his work e-mail. He was surprised to find zipped files of all the proper documentation for both clubs sent by Chuck's company, with promises of the hard copies being FED EX'd at the same time. The speed at which the documents had been provided was unusual, and Dan wondered how long Chuck had been thinking of buying the clubs, as there was no way all these documents could have been done just this morning.

He again came across the review by his office's investigative service and read it again. Now that he knew who the head of the company was, things made a little more sense—knowing Chuck the way he had.

He woke up to the front door unlocking, realizing he had fallen asleep reading reports and watching a movie. Hearing Jen coming into the room, he got up from the couch and moved to give her a hug. When she entered, Dan just stopped and stared.

Normally Jen's days off were spent helping the girls and practicing her own routines in the afternoon. The practice sessions were not very vigorous and typically she was home in a couple hours. Having taken both belly dancing and pole dancing classes after high school for exercise, she was one of the best dancers in the club, so it was not unusual for her to help the other girls out.

It was one of the things Jen loved about the club, there were no bad attitudes amongst the girls—they all got alone and helped each other out as much as possible.

When she came home from these sessions, she typically looked as good as when she left, as she typically did not need to practice as much. Not because she was so good, but that she had Dan install a pole in their garage for her to practice on during the days. As such, she typically did not do much other than demonstrate a few moves to the girls and critique them.

Seeing Jen come into the room, Dan first noticed her hair all messed up, as if she had spent the entire time dancing. It was a look he was familiar with as it was exactly how she came home on work nights. Normally for practice the girls wore their hair in pony tails or such, letting it down once and a while to practice, but keeping it out of the way for the most part. It was unlike working nights when they were spinning around and constantly waving their hair around.

The next thing he noticed was her wearing both facial and body make-up, again as if she had worked. The girls never wore make-up during practice sessions—there was no need since they were not performing. Yet Jen was not only wearing her thick mascara and lip gloss, but also her body foundation and perfume.

The final thing he noticed was her scant outfit was wrinkled and dirty. Again, since she did not do much during practice days, the outfit would typically look the same as when she left compared to working nights when clothes were thrown on the floor when dancing, sometimes getting stepped on or drinks spilled on before the dancer was done with their set. It was one reason they often had spare outfits at the club for the nights they worked.

"What happened?" Dan started to ask when Jen moved to him and took him in her arms, giving him a deep kiss, her tongue ramming into his mouth as kissed her back in surprise.

There were many nights when Jen would get horny from dancing. For her it was often a strong turn-on dancing and teasing men, and on good nights where it was a big crowd the 'after-work-sex' Dan called it had been awesome. But Jen had never been this aggressive after work, let alone following a practice session.

As Jen's tongue twirled in his mouth, he could taste the faint hint of cigarettes and alcohol. Then he noticed the cigarette smell in her hair as well as a smell of what he though was sawdust as she rubbed her body against him. Although Dan would normally be excited and not turn Jen away with the mood she was obviously in, it was definitely not expected at this time.

Breaking her way reluctantly, he looked her over. She looked like a stripper who had been ridden hard and put up wet—a colloquialism he had often joked about on how she looked after a long night of dancing.

"What happened?" he repeated again. "Did you talk to Chuck? Why do you smell like you worked all night?" he said.

Jen gave him one more kiss and finally catching her breath , rubbed her face, then her ass and back of her thighs like she did after one of her long workouts. Finally she plopped on the couch.

"Well," Jen said, after finally composing herself, "first of all no, I did not get to talk to Mr. DeWight," she said. "Apparently he is out of town until tomorrow so I'll hopefully catch him before my shift," she answered.

Dan got her a tall glass of ice water which she gratefully accepted. He again could not believe how hot she looked—Dan was not opposed to his fiancée dressing slutty around him, it was dancing in front of other guys that bothered him. Seeing Jen in her current state stirred his blood as he tried to listen to what happened.


When Jen arrived at the club she was surprised at how full the parking lot was. The club was closed during the day, so it was unusual to see more than a couple cars from the girls there for practice or the guys cleaning and restocking the bar. Today there were all sorts of commercial trucks, the decals on the doors ranging from a security company to carpeting to carpentry to plumbing.

Parking near the back and entering in the rear door—which most of the girls used to avoid overly attentive customers—Jen was immediately met by a cacophony of construction sounds—hammering, buzz saws, sanders, and drills echoing through the club. Over all of it she heard the speakers playing through one of their dance tracks.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked Mary as she entered the dressing room.

Oddly Mary was putting on make-up as if it was a work night, but Jen knew Mary did not work for another two days. Most of the girls worked four nights a week; everybody worked either Friday, Saturday, or both, and then two days the rest of the week. The weekends were the club's busiest times, so all the girls could make decent earnings.

Mary looked up at Jen and rolled her eyes, "Charles DeWight the Third is what is going on. Apparently his comment about 'not changing the club or doing any renovations' did not cover completely gutting the club and putting in new furniture, carpeting, even a new sound system. There are fucking workers everywhere," she said.

Jen could understand some of Mary's indignation. The afternoons were the girls' time. They could relax, practice their routines, and just talk about their days and stuff going on their lives. Any interruption to that flow would cause people to be upset.

"What's with the make-up?" she asked as Mary started spraying her hair, again like it was a work night.

"So fucking get this," Mary said slamming the bottle of hairspray down on the counter. "Mr. DeWight left a message that with the girls practicing and the workers here, it would be nice for our routines to have come critiques, so we're to fucking dance for them!" she complained.

"What?" Jen said in surprise, "You're fucking kidding me. We're not even on the clock, where is that asshole, I've already got a few things to say to him," Jen said, her ire now riled. It was one thing to interrupt their normal routine with renovations, but to demand they actually perform when they were not even scheduled to work was another thing.

And then it hit her on who they were expected to perform for. The Satin Kitty was one of the more high-scaled clubs. As such, it attracted a nicer clientele than most strip clubs like the Slithering Lizard, which had a more 'middle-class' clientele. The $30.00 cover alone typically kept out some of the riff-raff, and Brutus enforced the dress code relentlessly at the door. Based on what Mary said, these were nothing but typical construction workers—meaning loud, crude, and generally not the crowd she wanted to dance in front of.

"Save your anger for when he's here girl," Mary smiled. "Apparently our illustrious boss had to fly to New York and won't be back until tomorrow. In the meantime, he reminded us of our fucking contracts and that we no longer had 'working hours.'"' Marry said, forming quotes in the air with her fingers.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Jen asked.

"It means," Denise's voice came from behind her as she came into the door. Jen noticed she was also decked out as if for a work-night. Although Denise did work tonight, she typically would go home after practice before coming back and getting made up before her shift. Jen looked at her as she continued, "It means that we are now salaried employees and not independent contractors," she said with obvious disgust.

"According to our illustrious boss, our contracts state we are at his beck and call to perform at his whim," Mary said.

"Bullshit," Jen said, "I don't remember anything about that!" she said adamantly.

"Well, I don't know about your contract," Denise said, "seeing as you're the new DSA covergirl," she grinned. None of the girls had begrudged Mr. DeWight's plan making Jen the club's spokesperson. In fact, they would have been happy for her if she was planning on being around; however, they knew she would be leaving soon. "And can you tell your supposedly best friend how the hell that came about, what the fuck? I thought you were quitting so you and Dan could settle down to the boring life of an administrative assistant," she said.

Denise had always joked to Jen on how she made more money stripping than being some corporate's 'beck and call' girl, although she could understand Jen wanting to settle down with Dan.

Mary looked at her knowingly, shaking her head.

"It's a long fucking story," Jen said. "Let's just say I did it under duress and I am going to be talking to him about tearing the thing up," she told the girls.

"Good luck with that," Denise said, sitting down and starting to fix up her hair. "Anyways, the bottom line is we were given directions that we would be practicing with an audience until they were done with everything. They are replacing the security, sound, carpeting and even the furniture and decorations. There's construction guys everywhere," Denise said. "The bottom line is John and Brutus were told to inform us to do our full routines for them."

"Wait," Jen said, "we're supposed to strip for them too? What the fuck?" she said now seeing why the girls were pissed.

"Yup, and get this, we're to do it with the fucking houselights on because they're 'working,' can you believe that shit?" Mary said.

Now Jen understood why the girls were putting on their make-up, even more than usual. The dark and neon lights when working hid a lot of things. A little bit of cover-up could hide the ugliest scars and make wrinkles and bruises disappear. The dark and shadows also hid a bit of pudginess here and there, or other blemishes that the girls may have had.

"Well what if we say no?" Jen asked.

"Brutus said Mr. DeWight had an answer to that as well. Since it would be a 'breach of contract' he could fine us all $500 for refusing a 'promotional engagement,'" Mary said with disgust.

Jen was as pissed off as the other two girls as Janice and Jemisha came in.

"Yo girlfriends, what's up?" Jemisha asked.

Gen came into the dressing room right then with the same question, so Mary and Denise explained to them what they just told Jen.

"No fucking way am I dancing in daylight to a bunch of blue-fucking-collar assholes," Gen said.

The girls told her about the contract and fine that could be imposed. Mr. DeWight had told them of DSA's policy for girls to be employees instead of independent contractors. The benefits, he told them, outweighed the hassle as they would no longer need to pay house fees to dance, have worker's compensation, and even insurance. They would now be labeled as 'professional entertainers' on a salary. In addition they could keep any and all tips they earned, though they were required a certain quota of table dance fees they had to pay to the house.

At first the girls had baulked at the changes, but as they looked at things a few nights later, they realized they would actually be earning a steady income instead of having to work their asses off. Even a bad night paid the same, other than the extra income of tips. They lost out on their previous percentage of table fee cuts, but once a weekly paycheck with insurance was factored in, it actually came out ahead for them.

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byDocCIS© 32 comments/ 90592 views/ 56 favorites

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