The Pearl
Copyright© 2025 by RealityCheckStories
Chapter 4: The Mask
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 4: The Mask - Welcome to the stripclub known as "The Pearl" with our central protagonist being a young woman named Lara. We follow Lara as she deals with learning to navigate the pitfalls her new job as a lap dancer such as keeping the lecherous club owner at bay and avoiding the corrupt police captain who has taken a shine to her. Get in, clear her debts and get out. That's her plan. But try as she might, she can't help but get drawn into a criminal enterprise hidden at the heart of the club.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual Drunk/Drugged NonConsensual Rape Reluctant Heterosexual Fiction Crime Humor Mystery Sharing Incest Brother MaleDom Rough Gang Bang Group Sex Orgy Anal Sex Exhibitionism Facial Oral Sex Tit-Fucking Voyeurism Big Breasts Public Sex Size Teacher/Student Geeks Revenge
“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO!?!” Dave screamed at the woman sitting in front of him.
Dave Miller, proud owner of the lap dancing club known as The Pearl, could be seen in the middle of his office pacing back and forth in an animated fashion. Clearly agitated, he stopped pacing to resume his shouting.
“I mean for fuck’s sake, Lara. You broke his god damned nose! What the hell were you thinking?” he said with irritation evident all over his face.
Lara was sitting with her hands clasped placidly in her lap, as she listened to Dave chew her out.
“I was thinking that considering that he...” she started to say before Dave cut across her.
“It was a rhetorical question, Lara,” he said, his voice now lower and dangerous. His eyes shot daggers at her for a moment longer before softening his expression somewhat and letting out a deep sigh.
“Why did you do it?” he asked, his manner now calming slightly. Lara didn’t answer straight away and just continued to sit there. Eventually, she spoke up.
“Is this question rhetorical too or do you want me to answer?” she said, not being able to hide the sass in her tone. He glared at her again before answering.
“Yes, I want you to answer,” he said gruffly.
“He stuck his fingers inside me, Dave,” she said, her voice rising as she said it.
“So what? It’s just a little fingering! Big fucking deal!” he said matter of factly.
“I warned him. No means no,” she replied back firmly, the demure look on her face now replaced with one of steely determination. Dave waved her comment away dismissively as if the term “no” was an alien concept to him. His pacing had slowed a little and he was visibly calming down the longer the conversation went on. He turned back to the beautiful brunette sitting in front of him.
“Lara, customers push their luck all the time. You know this already! You can’t just go around beating them up. We have security. Why didn’t you just call out for them? Jack or one of the other guys would have been there in a flash and thrown the idiot out,” he uttered in exasperation.
Lara couldn’t argue with that. He was right. She could’ve called for security. It wasn’t that uncommon. But she hadn’t. Why?
No means no.
The phrase kept creeping through her mind. If she was honest with herself, the reason wasn’t exactly a mystery.
The pool party.
She had been badly affected by it. She had taken the following two days off while she recovered. Physically she had been bruised and sore and her pussy had ached for over a day. But it was the mental aspect that had lingered longer. Not being able to remember large chunks of time was a new experience for her, one she did not enjoy at all. It had dominated her thoughts for days.
It had been nearly a week since the party and she still couldn’t remember most of the night. She had started seeing flashes of memories during her dreams but was still trying to piece the night together. She remembered arriving there with Lenny. She remembered talking with Alan, Rob and Will. She remembered downing some tequila. She vaguely remembered dancing. Maybe. She wasn’t sure with who. And the image of a giant cock kept showing up. She wasn’t sure if that last part was real or just imagined but the image wouldn’t go away.
The one thing Lara knew for certain was that at some point she had experienced some sex. Some rough sex. She was guessing with Will. Or perhaps Rob.
Or both, she thought with a revolting shudder.
But ultimately she couldn’t be sure. It could have been somebody else entirely. She couldn’t go around accusing people without knowing for sure. Having thought about it some more she was now fairly positive it hadn’t just been the tequila. She had gotten blackout drunk on tequila before. No, this was something different. Someone had dosed her with something. Slipped something into her drink when she wasn’t looking. What, if anything she was going to do about the whole incident was still up in the air.
She had hoped returning to work, returning to normalcy would help get her mind off the entire event. It hadn’t really worked that well. Lara had to admit that she hadn’t been at her best lately. She had been phoning it in a little. Dancing distractedly and not in her usual attentive style. Throughout today she had kept thinking about the party, the frustration of not remembering festering in her. Making her more and more angry. It had culminated an hour ago when that creep she had been giving a lap dance to had jammed his fingers into her. She had snapped and punched him squarely in the face. His nose had practically exploded and there had been blood all over the couch and his clothes. The man had been furious, threatening all sorts.
All this and more went through Lara’s mind as Dave waited for her to answer. When she didn’t, he continued, his volume and tone softer now.
“Look, Lara. You know I like you. How could I not? You’re fucking gorgeous and you do your job well. Or at least you did. That was the girl I hired but she has been nowhere to be seen lately. You no-showed Monday. You called in sick on Tuesday and then you were late on Wednesday. Your dances per shifts are down and so are your takings. And today you punch out a customer. Lara, he says he is pressing charges. That he’s going to sue the club. Do you have any idea the headache this causes me?” Dave asked her, his arms starting to gesticulate about dramatically. Lara simply shook her head at him.
“I’m going to have to go begging Captain Price to deal with it. Make sure no formal charges are brought. And if he does sue, I’ll have to pay for a lawyer. You know how much those fuckers cost these days? You’re worth a lot to this club Lara, but not lawyer money, do you understand?”
“Sorry,” she said in a conciliatory voice. “It won’t happen again.”
“It had better not. You are on thin ice. I expect perfection from here on out. No excuses and no exceptions. Do you understand?” he asked. Lara nodded.
“I get it. I do. It’s just been a shitty week. I’ll get over it. You wont have any more problems from me. I guarantee it,” she said, actually meaning it. Dave gave her a rare smile.
“Good girl. Go take your break and then get back out there. We’re busy tonight.”
“Sure thing,” she said, pleased to escape the meeting with her job intact.
“Oh by the way, I ordered some of those masquerade masks we talked about the other day, for the lap dance tutorial video. They arrived this morning. They’re in your cubby in the changing room. Take a look at them at some point and pick one you like. There is one that looks like a Zorro mask but made of lace and feathers. It’s pretty sexy,” Dave said.
“Nice. I’ll take a look after my shift,” she said while getting up off the couch and heading for the door.
“Hey, Lara,” Dave called after her with a grin on his face. “Jump!” he said with a snigger. She laughed back at him as she reached the door.
“I’ll know where to land, don’t worry,” she fired back at him, revelling in their private joke.
Dave stared at her as she left the office.
She’s been way off the last few days. Maybe it’s her time of the month or something, he thought to himself.
Better put the “fuck Lara” plan on hold for a day or two. Don’t want her bleeding all over me, he concluded as he returned to his desk.
Lara walked gracefully down the stairs, away from Dave’s office and headed towards the bar. She’d take her break there and have a drink. It might cheer her up a little.
I’m fucking up at work. I’ve gotta snap out of this funk. Let the party go, for the moment anyway. I’ll deal with it later.
Easier said than done of course but Lara knew she needed to perform better for the rest of her shift and more so over the next few days. Remind Dave how good she was and all would be forgiven and forgotten.
At least don’t lay out any more customers, she thought to herself, unable to suppress a mirthful laugh as she remembered the look on the fuckers face as blood streamed down his nose.
She approached the bar, and slid onto the stool near the end and out of the way. Enrique, one of the bartenders at The Pearl, was nearing the end of his shift and preparing to hand over to his replacement. She liked Enrique. In fact, nearly everyone liked Enrique.
He was the life of the party, so to speak. He had jet black hair, on the long side for a guy. But it worked for him. He was from somewhere in South America, she wasn’t sure where. She thought he looked a bit like a young Antonio Banderas. If Antonio had been 5’5.
And gay as Christmas, she thought to herself, borrowing a phrase her mother often used.
Nobody would mistake Enrique for a straight man. He was loud and flamboyant, his dress sense mirroring that. If you wanted to make sure that your barman wouldn’t mess with the girls in a strip club, hiring one that had zero interest in them, and was super obvious about it, was a smart move.
“Hola, mi amor,” he said to her as she sat down.
“Hey, Enrique,” she greeted back.
“Do you want a drink, Lara?” he asked her in his heavy accent.
“Yeah. Get me a gin and tonic.”
She didn’t smile her usual smile at him as he placed the drink in front of her. It didn’t go unnoticed.
“Why so glum Lara? Beautiful people should be happy! And you are beautiful people. No, we are beautiful people!” he declared with a cheerful exuberance as he started to dance behind the bar. Lara couldn’t help but laugh and smile back at him, her mood improving instantly.
She sipped her drink, feeling better about herself as she noticed Jack approach the bar. She assumed he was there to relieve Enrique. Jack’s official job title was head of security. He organised the bouncers, their schedule and positioning around the club. Lenny had the camera system automated so Jack could see everything on his phone at a moment’s notice. He also took shifts behind the bar. Jack had mentioned to Lara before that he enjoyed it more than his official job. He had apparently taken a mixology course and now fancied himself a professional. She didn’t have the heart to tell him he had a lot of improving to do and to not quit his day job.
“Handsome Jack!” Enrique said, greeting him loudly.
“You can head home now, Enrique. The expert has arrived,” Jack said with confidence. Enrique put his hand on his chest in mock indignation before replying.
“I am the expert here. The only thing you are an expert at is dropping ladies panties, I think.”
“You wearing any, Enrique?” Jack fired back.
“You would have to date me to find out. And you couldn’t afford me, Jack. You couldn’t afford me,” Enrique said over his shoulder, as he headed towards the exit with a sashay of his hips that would put most of The Pearls dancers to shame. Lara laughed at the pair of them as Jack rolled his eyes.
“Evening, Lara.”
“Great to see you, Jack,” Lara said. “How is Sophia?”
“She’s doing much better now. Thanks for the advice the other day. I had a long chat with her about how boys are less mature at her age and don’t know how to express themselves.”
“So, boys are dumb?” she asked.
“Boys are dumb,” he replied with a smile.
Through repeated discussions with Jack over the past while, Lara knew that Sophia was Jack’s seven year old kid from his previous relationship. Sophia had a crush on a boy in her class and, apparently, he didn’t like her back. Jack had confided in Lara that Sophia had come home crying and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. Lara had told Jack to explain to Sophia that at her age ... well ... boys were dumb.
“She told me she will wait for him to grow up,” Jack said.
“I wish her luck with that plan. I’m still waiting for boys my age to grow up too,” she said dryly.
“Hey, I’m grown up! I have a mortgage. I wash my own clothes. I have a kid and everything!” Jack added with a hint of indignation.
“Yeah but you are like, 28, right? I said guys my age,” she replied. She paused as something occurred to her.
“Wait. Wait. Hang on a second. What are you implying here? You don’t honestly think we are the same age, do you? You have years on me. Exactly how old do you think I am?” she said, sounding offended. Jack looked at her, his face filled with panic.
“Uh ... maybe ... uh...” he stammered, trying to find an answer that would get him out of the hole he had dug for himself.
“I’m 22, you old fart!” she said, pretending to take offence.
“Yeah, of course. Twenty-two years old. I was just about to guess that.” Jack replied, looking relieved that he had waited before answering. A customer signalled Jack from the other end of the bar. Jack took the opportunity with both hands and fled from the conversation with Lara to go serve him. Lara chuckled to herself as she watched him go.
God damn, he is so cute, she thought to herself as she watched him stretch to grab a bottle for his new customer.
“Well, in my opinion you don’t look a day over twenty-one,” Jo said, sidling up to her at the bar.
“You too,” she said, returning the compliment to the blonde taking a seat next to her.
Jo was one of the few girls that Lara had befriended at The Pearl. Most of the girls seemed standoffish and rude to her. She attributed it to a combination of jealousy, fear of competition, and believing the rumours that Sarah had spread about her. But she had clicked with Jo instantly. Lara put it down to the fact that they were both disliked by the rest of the dancers.
Both the dancers and the regulars had a nickname for Jo. “No Blow Jo” they called her, alluding to the fact that she was unwilling to “go the extra mile” so to speak, during her dances. She wouldn’t even use her hands. She would dance and grind. That was it. If the men came, they came. If not, well, she considered her job done either way and would just leave them hanging.
Jo was the only dancer at The Pearl who had this attitude and as such, earned a lot less. Lara secretly wondered why Dave hadn’t fired her for this yet. She guessed that it was her look. She had short blonde hair to her shoulders and was slim, taut, and lacking in the chest area. At least lacking compared to the rest of The Pearl’s stable of girls. The vast majority were large chested and Jo came to a 34B at most. She figured Dave kept her around to cater to the demographic that was into that sort of thing.
But it put her at odds with the rest of the girls. Jo’s decision not to follow suit with the rest of them regarding sexual favours made it seem like she thought she was superior to them. As if Jo was somehow judging them and that she was morally superior. And they hated her for it.
Lara didn’t agree with them at all. Jo seemed nothing like that and Lara was just glad she had a female friend in the place.
Jo gave Lara’s arm a quick squeeze as she sat down. Lara returned it and turned back towards Jack. Lara stared at him with a dreamy look in her eyes, her head resting in her hands as she did it. Jo noticed and scoffed.
“Never going to happen Lara,” she said, giving Lara a knowing look.
“What?” Lara asked, confused about what Jo was talking about.
“You and Handsome Jack over there. You’re wasting your time. He’s taken.” she said, matter of factly.
“I wasn’t ... I mean ... I am not...” Lara said, stumbling over her words. “Anyway, he’s single,” she said, correcting Jo.
“I didn’t mean he was seeing somebody. I said he’s taken. His kid, Sophia?” Jo responded.
“Having a kid doesn’t mean you can’t date,” she said, returning her stare towards the other end of the bar where Jack was laughing at some joke the customer had told him.
“It does for him. Didn’t you hear about what happened with Sarah?” Jo asked, in a low conspiratorial voice, clearly thrilled at the thought of imparting some juicy gossip about the girl they both hated. Lara turned towards Jo, her face full of intrigue.
“The flame-haired bimbo bitch? What happened? What did she do?” Lara asked.
“She practically threw herself at Jack. Like proper full on. And you know what she’s like. Strolled up to him half naked, shoving her huge tits in his face. She practically told him to take her home and fuck her,” Jo said.
“The whore,” Lara spat.
“I know,” Jo agreed.
“So what happened?” Lara asked.
“He turned her down on the spot!” Jo crowed, her voice and face filled with glee. Lara beamed from ear to ear.
“Of course he did. He has class. He’s a gentleman,” she gushed, returning to stare at Jack, admiring his massive arms.
“He has a kid. That’s his priority. He told her so. She didn’t take it well. She’s telling everyone that he’s gay,” Jo said with a chuckle. Lara snorted back.
“Only way she knows how to save face now. She can’t comprehend the notion that somebody would turn down her skanky ass,” Lara said, her distaste for the red-head readily apparent. “I’d bet all the money in the world that she really believes it too.”
“Speaking of all the money in the world, has your brother made up his mind yet?” Jo asked Lara. Lara shook her head.
“My parents want him to go to college and use the rest of it to buy a house. He says he is considering it but doesn’t want to rush into anything yet and make a rash decision,” Lara answered. Jo nodded.
“Probably smart. There is no rush I guess,” Jo said while still nodding as if it was a good idea. Lara wasn’t so sure.
Lara had confided in Jo that her younger brother, Shawn had recently won a large monetary judgement in a lawsuit. Actually, “large” may be underselling it. He had been awarded 1.2 million dollars. Shawn had been in his last year of high school and a football star. Set for a full ride scholarship at the university of his choice, and with a lot of luck, a career in the NFL. Lara had told Jo that his life had been mapped out before him. That was until some dumb Karen had smashed into him with her car while he walked home from football practice a couple of years back. He had broken both his legs and smashed his hip to pieces.
His legs had mended fine and he had a titanium hip. He could move about like a “normal” person now but the chances of him having the type of sporting career he wanted was over. Shawn had insisted that he could still play. He clung to the notion that there had been a couple of players in the NFL with artificial hips. It had been a pipe dream. The scouts stopped visiting and the scholarship offers were rescinded.
Lara’s father didn’t want to sue, he figured the woman hadn’t done it on purpose and it was just one of those things you experience through life. Lara’s mother had disagreed. Strongly.
“We are taking that dopey cunt to the cleaners,” were her exact words. And they had. Shawn now had something to take from the whole sorry situation. It wasn’t football, but it was something. But Shawn had not taken the loss of his footballing career well. He had become angrier. And bitter. He had broken up with his long-term girlfriend and started staying out until the small hours of the morning, sometimes not returning until the next day.
Lara felt devastated for him that his dream was gone but she was relieved that he at least had something to show for it. Many people were not so lucky. The money would set him up for a new life and career. But she was wary. It was a lot of money for somebody to handle. She turned back towards Jo and raised her concerns.
“I just don’t want him to piss it all away. You hear the stories of folks who come into an inheritance or win the lotto or something and then a year later? Poof. Disappeared in a flash and they are broke again.”
“You told me he had a good head on his shoulders, though?” Jo asked.
“He’s 19 years young. And remember, boys are dumb,” she said with a giggle.
“What?” Jo asked confusedly, not being privy to the full conversation Lara and Jack had enjoyed earlier.
“Never mind,” Lara said chuckling to herself. She looked to her right and was surprised to see Dave approaching them.
“Lara, there is a kid in the VIP who just bought our premium bottle service. That’s 2,200 plus whatever he spent making it rain for Jessica on the main stage earlier and he looks like he’s just getting started. Go milk him for all his wallet has got.” he told her. She nodded and moved to get off the barstool.
“Remember what we discussed earlier. You do this and do it well. No excuses. And no violence,” he said, the warning clear.
“I remember Dave. No worries. This guy will spend so much money on me, you’ll be able to buy a boat,” Lara said confidently over her shoulder as she walked towards the VIP.
“I already have a boat,” he called after her.
“I’ll take the boat!” Jo interjected with a smile. Dave turned to her as if noticing her sitting there for the first time.
“Jo, you won’t even motorboat the customers,” he chided her, as he walked away.
Lara approached the door to the main VIP room with an air of determination. She steeled herself as she opened the door, aiming to give this guy one of her best performances. Instead, what she saw shook her to her core.
Sitting in the luxurious VIP room on its plush couch, buried in his phone, was her very own younger brother, Shawn.
Lara stood there as if a deer in the headlights as she stared at Shawn playing with his phone. Her body froze in complete shock for several seconds before her brain kicked her body into action. She stepped back out of the room and slammed the door shut behind her.
“Hello?” a muffled question came from within the room.
Lara was panicking. She didn’t think he’d seen her but he might get up to see who had slammed the door. She affected a fake voice and answered him.
“Just one minute, darling. You make yourself comfortable and I’ll be right in,” she said, disguising her voice as best she could.
FUCK FUCK FUCK! What the FUCK is he doing here?
Lara tried to calm her breathing as she realised she was close to hyperventilating. She slowed down her breathing as best she could and started to think.
He’s a horny young man, now with money to burn. Where else would he be? A library? Accepting that fact, Lara still cursed her own bad luck that he had wandered into her club. Even at that, she knew she wasn’t being entirely rational. It wasn’t really that much of a coincidence. The Pearl was fast becoming known as one of the best clubs in the state for high mileage dances.
Still, this was terrible timing considering her recent transgressions. Any other day and she would just leave. She would feign sickness. Shawn wouldn’t see her and somebody else could deal with him. Problem solved. But that wouldn’t work today. If she left, for any reason, Dave wouldn’t let it go. He’d fire her on the spot. So leaving for the night was out.
She could quit. Just outright walk. But she knew what that would mean. Dave was a vindictive fucker when he wanted to be. He’d use his connections. She’d be blackballed from every decent club out there. And he’d do it just to spite her. She wouldn’t be able to find a reputable joint to dance in. It would be the end of her career, such as it was. And she still had a lot of debt.
No, I’m not doing that. Quitting is not an option.
She considered for a moment going in there and leveling with Shawn. Tell him the truth. That she wasn’t a waitress any more, she did this for a living instead. Hope he’d understand and keep it to himself. The issue with this plan was that she wasn’t sure if Shawn would, or even could, keep this to himself. If he told their parents, her mother might understand but there was zero chance her father would. It would ruin their relationship. Permanently. Even if Shawn didn’t tell their folks, he was a blabbermouth. He couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. Everyone knew it. He’d tell someone. And a secret isn’t a secret any more when more than two people know it. Eventually, everyone would know.
No, I’m not telling him. But I can’t leave either. What other options do I have?
An option walked right past her.
“Jo! Jo! I need your help,” Lara said with desperation as she saw the blonde walk past her. Jo reacted with surprise as she approached Lara outside the VIP door.
“What’s wrong?”
“Jo I need you to take the customer in the VIP. I’m ... sick. I can’t do it,” Lara pleaded. She wasn’t thrilled about lying to Jo but she also wasn’t ready to admit the truth. Jo hesitated, with a look of clear reluctance on her face.
“Lara, normally I’d help. You know I would. But Dave told you to do this. If he finds out you fobbed it off to me, he’ll fire you. You know this already. Hell, he might even fire me for helping you go around him. And Lara, I need this job,” Jo said. “Besides, you know me and the VIP. This guy is spending big. He’s expecting ... services that I don’t perform. It’s awful that you are feeling unwell but I think your only option is to put on a brave face. You’re going to have to suck it up,” Jo said sympathetically.
Lara winced at the unfortunate turn of phrase.
There will be absolutely NO sucking of any kind going on.
But Lara knew Jo was right. If she pawned this off on someone else and Dave found out, he would go ballistic.
“You’re right. Sorry for asking Jo. You go on. I’ll be fine,” Lara told her, not really believing her own words. Jo gave her a weak smile and continued on through the club.
I can’t tell him, I can’t pull a sickie and I can’t get somebody to replace me. What the fuck can I do?
The answer hit her like a lightning bolt.
The masks!
Dave’s new pet project was selling instructional lap dance videos to other clubs that wanted to improve their dancers. Lara had reluctantly agreed to star in them but only if she could cover her face. Dave had told her the masks he had bought were in the changing room. A plan was starting to formulate.
I’ll wear a mask. I’ll put on a voice too. With a bit of luck he won’t recognise me. I’ll go in there and convince him to pick another dancer.
If he asked for somebody else, she’d have a ready made excuse. Nobody had ever asked for Lara to be replaced before. It would look bad. But it was better than the alternatives. Dave would be pissed she hadn’t performed to her standards but it might just be enough to save her job.
Lara moved with a purpose towards the changing rooms. When she arrived, she quickly picked up one of the masks. It was a black lace eye mask with some pretty lace patterns. It didn’t cover much but it would be enough. She put it on and hurried back to the VIP entrance. She had to decide on an accent. Her go to was posh British but she wasn’t sure if Shawn had heard her do that one before. It wasn’t worth the risk. She’d go with Texas south. Add a bit of a drawl.
Lara opened the door, her body trembling slightly, and entered the VIP once more. This time, she closed the door behind her and walked into the room.
Shawn looked up from his phone this time at the woman in front of him as she walked towards him.
Damn. Just look at her. This is going to be fucking amazing!
He grinned at her and stared up and down her body as she closed the distance between them.
Lara had to fight the urge to turn and flee the room as she watched her own brother ogle her body. She stopped in front of him, and stood there while he put his phone back in his pocket. She noticed the untouched bottle of Cristal sitting in a bucket on the table to her left. She also noted, oddly, that there was a second phone also on the table. The previous patron had clearly left their phone behind. Her mind was snapped back to the problem in front of her as Shawn spoke.
“Hi there. What’s your name, gorgeous?” Shawn asked, his eyes filled with lust already.
“I’m ... Lyla,” Lara answered.
“Well Lyla, I was told I’d get the best when I bought this package. They weren’t kidding,” he said as he gazed lecherously at her body. “Why don’t you hop on board and show me what you can do,” he said with more than a hint of bravado.
Lara was shocked. She had never heard him behave or talk this way before. Although, she had never been with him to a strip club before so maybe this was how he behaved there.
I obviously don’t know him as well as I thought, she admitted to herself. Lara tried to stall.
“Why don’t we sit and have a chat first? Get to know each other,” she said, her voice lilting in her best attempt at what passed for a southern belle. Shawn just laughed at her.
“I didn’t pay all that money to just chat,” he said as he pulled her down onto his lap forcefully. “Besides, we can get to know each other as you do your thing,” he said.
Lara felt a little helpless as he yanked her down roughly onto his lap. She was straddling him now and she could immediately feel his hardness under her. It made her want to wretch. Every fibre of her being screamed at her that this was wrong. To get up and run away. But she knew she couldn’t.
Give him a little dance. Tell him you have a friend you think he’d like. Then get the fuck out of here.