Poodle Butt
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2016 by Meatbot

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A young girl works at a strip club in the midwest USA.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Teenagers   Consensual   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Fiction   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Petting   Size   Workplace  

It was a night like any other, at the Valley. I was late, that’s always bad, Terhune is a bitch normally, but he’s a whiney-cry-baby bitch when you’re late. It wasn’t my fault, but he didn’t care, he socked me twenty bucks for being late and I told him to fuck off and went and changed. Changed, well, I stripped. The Valley isn’t totally nude because of the stupid laws, we have to have rubber pasties painted over our nipples, and wear g-strings. It’s stupid, the g-strings don’t hide nothin’, it’s just a string going down the middle of your pussy, and your pussy lips hang over each side. And of course you pull it aside when you’re giving lap dances and shit.

A few girls were in the dressing room, getting ready for the shift to start. Darla was there, a fairly good friend of mine, and Roxy, my evil arch-nemesis. She’d seen me come in late, and she just fuckin’ had to say something about it. I finally flipped her off, and dropped my jeans. She shut up, at least, though she still gave me evil glances.

“How you and Rache doin’?” Darla asked, and I smiled at her.

“Groovy,” I said, “couldn’t be better.”

“You lucky,” she told me, “she’s a sweet girl.”

“Yah,” I said. “How you and Dean doin’?”

“Awww,” her face fell. I wished I hadn’t asked. “I dunno. I’m talkin’ to my mom ‘bout movin’ back in with her.”

I hugged her, and just held her for a moment. Darla and I had played around some in the past, but I didn’t really feel that magic with her, not like I did with Rachel. And Darla was super jealous. Rachel was sweet about letting me play around some. I felt bad for Darla, though. Life is like that.

Anyway, I stripped, put on my dance thong, painted rubber on my titties, and hit the floor. It was a fairly lively crowd, there must have been a convention in town or something, because there was a large group that seemed to be all together.

Right off I got a dance, before I even went up on stage. I took the guy into the corner, behind the jukebox, and got him all settled, waiting on the next song to start. I wondered if he was a first-timer, he seemed nervous and shaky, and his friends had been the ones to pay me and tell me to do it. I leaned into him and told him not to worry, I’d be gentle with him. I thought he’d laugh, but he looked even more scared after that. I sighed. I’d take it easy on him.

The music stopped, and started again. I turned, sat in his lap, and started rubbing up and down against him. I could hear him say something, and I leaned back and put my ear to his mouth. The music isn’t that loud, but it’s hard to hear people unless they speak loudly.

“I think I love you...” he said, and I leaned back forward and laughed.

“Darlin’,”, I said, turning around and rubbing his cock beneath his jeans with my leg, “my love is five bucks a dance. I hope you got deep pockets.”

He kind of grimaced. I wondered about him. He looked like some momma’s boy that lived a sheltered life. I wondered if he was a stalker. What the hell. You dealt with a lot of shit in this job. I looked at myself objectively. I’m sure he did love me, I was pretty lovable, on the surface. Just by looks. Inside my head was a different story, but on the surface, I know I looked good. Better than most of the other bitches in this place.

I gave him the whole works, well, almost the whole works, he didn’t feel me off like what most of the old timers do, I guess he didn’t know what he could get away with. I finally backed into his crotch again with my butt and took his hands and placed them on he crease of my hips. I could feel him trembling beneath me, and he slowly hesitantly rubbed my upper thighs. I laughed at him, but not out loud.

The song finally ended, and I stood back from him.

“Thank you, darlin’,” I said, holding out my hand for him as he got up, but he had other ideas. He got out his billfold, and tried to hand me a twenty, his hands still shaking. A twenty, fuck, what’d he want, four dances? Did he expect me to make change? I didn’t take it, though.

“Honey, I’m on stage next, but after that, I’ll do ya,” I said, and he nodded. He returned to his seat, and I took the stage.

I like being on stage. I like the power of it, I guess. Or maybe the attention. The guys watch me, but can’t touch me, unless I decide. It’s a whole different dynamic than a lap dance. I kinda seem to go in a trance on stage, I feel the music, it’s loudest up on stage since two large speakers are right behind me.

The music droned on, and I danced. I usually dance pretty slow, I don’t go all spastic like some chicks do, I like to put my hands over my head and just gyrated and twist to the music. A few guys approached and put dollar bills in my panties, well, in my thong string, and I let them of course. On the second song a guy approached with a full beer mug and an empty, and I knew what he wanted. I’d let him do it, although I didn’t like doing it, it got me wet and sticky. But what the hell, let the guys have their fun. I crouched on stage on my hands and knees, with my front up in the air, and my legs spread. I pulled the thong to the side, so my pussy was completely exposed. He put the empty mug at the bottom of my cunt, and poured the beer over my pussy into the empty. It was colder than hell and made me shiver. Stupid guys, and their weird obsessions. He just smiled and drank and his buddies cheered. You stupid bastard, I thought, at least I’m clean. There’s some girls that work here that I’d never drink pussy beer from, even if I was a guy. Some real skanks. Terhune says they’re for contrast. Whatever. Skanky hoes.

Anyway, the second song ended, and I exited the stage, looking for momma’s boy. He was waiting, standing beside the stage, and I put my arm around his shoulder and led him over to the lap dance corner. A girl was giving a guy a dance in my favorite spot, behind the jukebox, so we stood there and waited. The song had started anyway, and I wanted to give him a full turn. I turned to him, and put my mouth to his ear.

“What’s your name, darlin’?” I asked, and he smiled shyly.

“Erik,” he said, I dunno if it was Erik with a “k” or a “c” so I’ll call him Erik.

“I’m Ruth Ann,” I said, and we shook hands somewhat formally. “Though everybody here calls me Poodle Butt.”

He smiled at that. A smile, at last.

“You live local?” I asked, and he nodded. “You?” he said, and I nodded back. I sure as hell wasn’t going to give him any hints. He still seemed kinda stalker-ish to me, just the way he looked at me.

“Erik,” I said, whispering in his ear, touching his ear with my lips, “when I dance for you, you can touch me ... wherever...”

He blanched at that, he literally got pale. I smiled invitingly, and he gulped. I started wondering if he was still a virgin. I looked objectively at him. Yeah, I thought, I’d do that ... he wasn’t bad, slim and fairly muscly ... and handsome. He just had that whipped puppy dog look to him, though, it was just the way he carried himself or something.

“Ruth...” he started, and I shushed him.

“Poodle Butt,” I said, “that’s my dance name. I’m Ruth Ann only when I’m out there.” I motioned to the world outside. He nodded.

“How’d you come to be called that?” he asked.

“It’s dumb, I’ll warn ya...” I said. He nodded. I went on. “A year ago when I started here I wore my hair up and all frilly and one night some guy said I looked like a little French poodle, and so all the girls called me Poodle Butt after that. And it’s kinda stuck.”

“Ahem. Poodle Butt...” he started, and I shushed him again, amused. He looked happy, and then his face fell every time I interrupted him. I think he felt like he was getting in trouble.

“Actually, mostly they call me Peebee now, short for Poodle Butt,” I said.

“Uhm, yes ... Peebee ... I really really like you ... could I take you, uhm, take you out to eat some night?”

Oh shit. Well, I got asked that shit a dozen times a night, though most guys just wanted to take me home and fuck me. I could count the dinner invitations on one hand. I looked at the guy again. He seemed so meek I couldn’t imagine him going apeshit and holding me hostage or some shit like that. I finally nodded.

“Yeah, maybe,” I said, “Let’s do some dancin’ and then we’ll talk.” I knew the song that was playing was winding down. Finally it ended, and the girl and guy in the chair got up. I got Erik sat down, and sat in his lap until the next song started.

Once again, he leaned forward, and whispered in my ear. “How old are you, honey?” he said.

Shit again. I didn’t want to tell him the truth, it was one of my most closely guarded secrets in this place. So I said what I tell everyone. “I’m eighteen, of course. You have to be eighteen to dance, and twenty-one to drink.”

I could almost feel him nodding. Truth be known, I was almost eighteen, When I started here I was just sixteen, a year ago.

The music started, and I stood. I saw Terhune over the top of the jukebox, watching me. Shit. I owed him twenty bucks, for being late. That sucked, but I had to stay on his good side. Well, his not-so-bad side. I’d give him this twenty, that Erik would give me, and start all over again for the day.

So I danced for him. He got braver and braver, and finally ran his hands over my thighs and stomach as I sat in his lap and rubbed his crotch. I finally took his hands in mine, and lifted them to my tits. I could tell he was hesitant, but he finally started rubbing and squeezing. I like having my tits played with, and it don’t bother me when it’s strangers doing it. Some girls are all freaky about being touched but I know it’s girls like me that make the real money. Girls that let the guys touch. Or more.

I’d let guys do way more than just play with my tits, in the past. And I might with this guy, but I realized he’d have to be led to do that shit, he wouldn’t do it on his own.

By the second dance he was squeezin’ my tits like an old-timer, though. I revised my opinion of him slightly. Finally, during the third song I grabbed his right hand, and pulled it down into my pussy. I just had the g-string thong on, and I sat on his lap, my legs spread, and let him rub his fingers in my cunt. I liked that shit too, I could tell how much these fuckers liked me, and how much they were getting off feeling of me. He didn’t stick his finger inside me, like some guys did, but he felt me off pretty good.

I leaned back and whispered in his ear, “My clit, dammit, find my clit,” and pulled the string aside, into the crease of my leg. He fumbled around a bit, and even got close a few times, but I finally had to take his fingers and guide them to it. He rubbed and rubbed it, and I almost came, to his credit, when the song ended. I scrubbed my ass in his crotch one last time ... and shit, that’s when I felt the wetness.

He’d fuckin’ cum in his jeans, probably from the motions of my ass in his lap, rubbing on his hard cock. I’d been able to feel it, from the first dance, and I’d spent more than a little time rubbing on it, both with my legs and then my hand. I was surprised I hadn’t been able to tell when he came. I giggled helplessly, and looked down at him.

“What?” he said, but I could tell he was embarrassed.

“Baby, if you’re giving me that twenty,” I said, trying to remember how many dances I’d done for him, “I think you got one more dance comin’.”

“Uh...” he looked confused, and a little scared, like he always did. “I gotta ... I gotta go ... here...”

He held out the twenty, and I took it. I leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

“Come back and see me,” I said, and he nodded fervently.

“I will, I promise ... I will...” he said. I knew he would. I could tell he was crazy about me. I just hoped he wasn’t crazy.

The night wore on. Erik had left, with the two guys he was with. I finally went behind the bar and gave Terhune his twenty, after I’d made a few more. He snapped it up, and stuffed it in his pocket. I knew he was basically stealin’ it from the bar, it shoulda gone into the jar for all the barkeeps. I gave him a disgusted look, and said, “nice of ya, ya jerk.”

He snapped back, grabbing my upper arm and squeezing. “Get off my back, Peebee. And don’t be late again.”

“Fuck off,” I said, jerking loose from him. “You’re a fucking thief, motherfucker.”

He just glared at me. It made me mad, for some reason, and I was in a mood after that.

Darnell Parsons calmed me down a little, after Erik and his friends had left Darnell came up to me and whispered, “Stairway and you’re mine, baby.”

I laughed. It was the same, at least once every weekend. Once a night Terhune selected “Stairway to Heaven” by Zep on the jukebox, the original full version, and whoever was getting a dance on that song got a hell of a deal, the song is like eight minutes long. I hated being on stage when that bitch played. Anyway, that was kinda Darnell’s song, and we usually did, uhm, some shit pretty involved for a goddam strip bar. It’s just something that I started on a whim, and now we did it sometimes twice a weekend.

I did a few more dances, and luckily I was in the corner when I heard “Stairway” start. Darnell beat cheeks over to me and sat as soon as the other guy got up. I think the other guy had wanted another dance, but he could tell Darnell was taking the chair no matter what. Darnell is tall and rangy, but he carries himself like a bad-ass and that’s how he comes across.

Anyway, he got all sat down and I sat in his lap, forward on his knees a little.

“You okay with this, Peebee?” he whispered, and I nodded. More than okay, I almost felt like I needed it, tonight. I was still pissed off about Terhune. I felt him fumbling around with his zipper, and then felt his cock touch me at the base of my spine.

Darnell is one of those rare fuckers, one of those guys with a really big cock. I’ve seen a few cocks in my day, but I’ve never seen one as long as his. I seen some bigger around, and I wish his could have been just slightly bigger around, but it was a fine cock, one he could be proud of. He was proud of it. And he knew I liked it.

I had a funny relationship with Darnell, I bet I’ve been fucked by him fifty times or more, but he’s never cum inside me. The first few times we’d done it I wondered why he didn’t hit on me and try to take me out or just meet me somewhere to fuck, but now I know he’s got an old lady, so all we do is fuck at the Valley. I get to cum but he doesn’t, I can’t have cum drippin’ out of my cunt afterwards. I guess I could go to the ladies room and try and wash it out, but it’s just easier if he don’t cum. I explained that to him the first time, and he’d always respected that for me, at least. I suppose he figgered it’d be over between us if he squirted his shit in me.

He had his cock out. I turned, and bent down like I was pretending to give him a blow job, except I wasn’t pretending. I slid his cock into my mouth, sucking hard, and felt him tense up beneath me. Damn, he had a nice cock. If I was a guy, I wanted a cock like this. I sucked and slurped out to the end, knowing I couldn’t do this for long.

Finally I turned, and carefully sat in his lap again. I was pretty wet already, for some reason, and I leaned forward and then backward and he slid right into me, guiding himself with his hands. He felt good up inside me, and I felt twinges already in my legs and stomach. I could usually cum from him fucking me, and I planned on it tonight. By the time the fast part of the song started, I was tensing up and feeling it, and sure enough, I had a nice cum. I could hear him laughing behind me, I know it got him off when I came.

The song ended and I slid his cock out of me, and stood in front of him so he could put his dick back up. That took a while, it was still pretty hard, since he didn’t cum. He slipped me a ten, and disappeared back in the crowd. After I danced on stage one more time my six hours was almost up, it was just about one thirty in the morning. Last call had already been announced. I heard a commotion at the door, and sure enough, it was the fuckin’ cops. I looked for Larry but didn’t see him. I double-checked my titties to see if the rubber was still on them and it mostly was.

I finally felt like I’d done my last dance, and slipped into the dressing room while Terhune was talking to the cops. I counted my cash, almost two hundred bucks, not bad for six hours on a Friday night. I yanked my thong down, and tossed it in my locker, and was just pulling out my jeans when Roxanne entered the room.

“Saw you gettin’ fucked. Made sure Terhune saw it too,” she said, the bitch. I just glared at her. I wondered if she’d really told him. He’d told me more than once he’d fire my ass if he caught me fucking again.

“Keep your nose in your own business, bitch,” I said, peeling rubber off my nipples. Roxy sat on the bench and stared at me.

“You are such a righteous little bitch,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d love to take you down a few fuckin’ notches.”

“Fuckin’ try, bitch,” I said, “I eat whiny little bitches like you for breakfast.”

She stood, and approached me. She was a big girl, bigger than me, but I wasn’t afraid of her. For one thing, she was probably in her mid-thirties and I was pretty sure she was a druggie since she was strung out sometimes and her hands shook. I’d seen her fall more than once when she was doing handstands on stage and shit like that. She just seemed kinda uncoordinated.

She stopped two feet from me, and stared down at me.

“You stupid little cunt,” she said, sneering. “I been to prison for killin’ bitches like you.”

“Yeah,” I said sarcastically, “I heard ‘bout that. Sluggin’ old ladies after you crashed your fuckin’ car into them. You are so fuckin’ hardcore...”

Her hand darted up to slap me, but hell, I’m half her age. I grabbed it out of mid-air, yanked, and spun her whole body around. In a second I had her hand pulled halfway up her back, and my other hand was wrapped around her adam’s apple. I could feel her take a convulsive breath.

“I oughta kill you, you stupid-ass old heifer,” I said, “but you ain’t worth goin’ to the slammer for even a day. So fuck off.”

I pushed her hard, and she stumbled forward, hit the bench with her knees, and fell on her face, just like I’d hoped. I laughed again, and grabbed my jeans out of the locker I shared with Darla. But I kept one eye on Roxy and sure enough after she picked herself up she came at me like a madwoman.

I turned and we grabbed each other like lovers, and then she tried to yank my hair with one of her hands. I leaned back to get some room to move, and smacked her hard on the cheek. She grunted, and raised her other hand to hit me. She was so fuckin’ wide open it wasn’t funny and I drove my fist right into her nose. I swear I could feel the cartilage in her nose crack, even. She yelled bloody murder, and stumbled backwards, screaming her fuckin’ head off. The fight was over. I surveyed the scene with satisfaction.

Somebody grabbed me from behind, but I didn’t fight them. Sure enough, it was the cops. They dragged me out of the room and handcuffed me. Then they had to uncuff me, so I could dress, then cuff me again. They didn’t give me time to button up my shirt but I knew that was intentional so they could see my tits. I really wished Larry had been on duty, he was the one righteous cop in that whole nest of corruption and he would have made sure I was treated right.

Some of the other girls were helping Roxy, holding a towel on her nose as she dripped blood everywhere. Terhune came over, a scowl on his face, and told me he wanted to talk to me Monday when I came in. Well, I thought, at least he didn’t say I was fired. I happen to know that Terhune kinda likes me, I think he thinks there’s a chance I’ll be his girlfriend or something. When he finally figures out there’s not a snowball’s chance I’m sure he’ll give me the boot.

The cops took me down the street to the jailhouse in their car but hell, it was so close they could have walked me. The secretary lady there stood approached me and buttoned up a few of my buttons so my tits didn’t hang out.

“Thanks,” I said.

“You’re welcome, honey. We got some creeps in here tonight. Don’t want you rilin’ them up,” she said, and I nodded.

Somebody finally uncuffed me and let me use the phone, and I called Rachel. “Rache, honey, get two hundred bucks out from under the mattress and come bail me outa jail.” I said, and I heard her laugh on the other end. I knew she would do it without question, Rachel is my best friend in the whole world. We live in two totally different worlds, but she understands me and loves me. More on that shit later.

Fifteen minutes later she showed up, eyes shining, and winked at me. She gave the clerk the two hundred, and the clerk gave me a paper that said some shit on it like “Creating a Public Disturbance” and “Assault and Battery”. I reminded myself to wait until I got home to throw it away. Whatever I had to do, I didn’t want to spend the night in jail.

It was almost four before we got home, and I jumped in the shower for a quick rinse. I soaked under the hot water for a minute, and shampoo got in my eyes. My hair was getting frizzy, I had to shampoo so goddam much. But I always stunk like cigarette smoke after six hours in that place. I heard the shower door open. Rachel entered the shower, stark naked. I grabbed her, and held her under the hot water, feeling it flow down over our bodies. She felt good in my arms, like she always did. Our mouths sought each other, and we kissed until I almost fainted, finally drawing a ragged breath through my nose. I cried for a while, not sure why, I guess just the excitement of the fight ... and hell, I often cried, when I held Rachel. I loved her that much.

“Wanna talk ‘bout it?” she said, and we locked lips again. When we finally separated, after maybe two minutes, I said, “Naw. Just a bitch that got what was comin’ to her.”

Rachel laughed, and we kissed again. I felt her hands on my ass, pulling my ass cheeks apart, and then rubbing my asshole. I dropped my hands, and cupped her beautiful bottom in my hands. I realized I was hornier than shit.

“Oh, honey...” she breathed in my face, “I love you...” I sighed, and we kissed again. For the longest ever, this time.

“I love you,” I simply said, when we pulled apart. I felt her hand creep down my front, and rub down the top of my slit. When Rachel does it, it feels totally different than the guys at the Valley. It feels extra sexy, or somethin’ ... I know that sounds dumb ... but the difference is, I know she loves me. They lust for me, but she loves me. I have never doubted her love for me, I can feel the strength of it. And I love her that much back.

We didn’t even dry off, we fell into bed soaking wet, and within seconds, she was down there, her lips on my pussy, her tongue inside me. I gasped and groaned, and a few minutes later I came, hard. We traded, and I licked and sucked and ate her pussy until she came, and I kept on going until she had a second one. We finally drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, each other’s juices on our faces. My last coherent thought was how much I loved her.

I love Sundays, because I don’t have to do shit. Well, I don’t have to do shit on Mondays, either, but Sundays are the best. We finally got up, and had breakfast on our little balcony.

“What ‘choo wanna do today, bee-otch?” said Rachel, and I sighed lazily.

“Nothin’,” I said. “Maybe fuck around for a while. Or, hey, we could go to the mall. At some point we gotta go back to the Valley and get my car. Tonight, we’ll fuck around some more.”

“Yeah,” she said, “that sounds good.”

We dressed, got in Rachel’s car, and she drove to the Valley. My car sat forlorn, all alone in the empty parking lot. I got out, and shit. The door was cracked open. I could tell somebody’d been in it. There wasn’t nothin’ missin’, at least, because I never kept nothin’ in it. Not even a radio to steal. I drove it home, and got back in Rachel’s car.

We went to the mall, the new one, and spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon looking at clothes and shit. I bought a few things, I’d only brought two twenties, though. Rachel bought a nice dress, she was one of those girls that look great in dresses, or blouses and skirt.

We got somethin’ to eat, and finally went back home. We spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s arms, watchin’ Gilligan’s Island and other stupid shit.

Tuesday sucked. Rachel had gotten off early, and we made out until I was almost late. I hurried, but I knew I’d slide in right under the wire. I drove into Valley Brook, very careful of the speed limit, I knew the cops were shits about it. Anyway, to my disgust, I saw the fuckin’ cop lights in my rear-view. Shit. I pulled into the Valley’s parking lot, I was that close. I sat in my car dejectedly, while the cop ran my plates. Another car pulled up. Shit. The whole police force was there, to take down a single female. I felt dangerous.

The cop finally approached, took my license and wasted some more time. Finally the second cop came up, and to my great surprise, a third car showed up. They were calling in the reserves for me. I knew this would take a while.

“Exit the vehicle, Ma’am,” the first cop said, and I slowly got out. He guided me back to his car, and opened the back door. I didn’t want to get in, but I did.

“Can you tell me what this is about?” I said, trying my hardest to be polite.

“Just routine, Ma’am, we’re gonna search your vehicle,” he said. Shit. I wasn’t gonna be just late, I was gonna be really late. I looked at the door to the Valley, and saw Terhune standin’ in the door watching all this shit. Darla peeked out behind him, through the barely open door. I smiled and waved at her, but I don’t think she could see me in the car. Terhune waved back, though.

I watched the three cops open all four doors of my car, and then open the trunk. I knew there wasn’t shit in the car, I hadn’t ever had anything in it worth hidin’. But, I was surprised yet again when one of the cops approached me, a fairly large baggie in his gloved hands. When he got to me he showed it to me. It looked like pot. Shit. Not just pot, but a bunch of pot.

“Sorry, Ma’am, but consider yourself under arrest,” he said. I started to get out since the door was still open, but he told me to stay in the car.

“Hey,” I said, stammering, “I ain’t got no idea where that shit came from. Trust me, if I knew I had it, I’d be home smokin’ it right now.”

He kinda laughed at that and said, “I’m sure you would.”

“Actually ... I don’t do that shit no more. I’ve grown out of it. I’m not a druggie.”

“No judgment of your character intended, Ma’am,” he said all smart-alecky, making it sound like an insult. “Anyway, this much isn’t just for personal use. This amount is for distribution. I guess you had a little business on the side, other than shakin’ your booty.”

Shit. I was fucked. Immediately Roxy came to mind. She’d planted the shit, or had somebody do it. It would have been easier than fuck, my car was in the parking lot all night, unlocked. Double shit. I was a dumb fuck for not searching it myself, after the other night.

“C’mon,” I said. Damn, I wished Larry was here, though I don’t know what he coulda done for me. Why did this shit always happen when he was off shift? “Officer...” I looked at his name tag. “Officer Bryant, give me a break. Test that shit, it’s probably ten years old, it was probably in the car when I bought it. Where’d you find it?”

“I am not at liberty to divulge that information,” he said. I wished I’d watched closer what they were doing to my car and seen where they found it. And I wondered if they knew where it was ahead of time. Shit. I’d been framed. Shit fuck.

I just sat in the car and stewed. The longer I sat the madder I got. I could have killed Roxy by the time we drove over to the police station. I was cuffed by then, and stayed cuffed for the next two hours while the secretary typed all my shit up. They finally took my picture and stuck me in one of their two cells. I was all alone. I finally cried a little there, thinking how bad I was fucked. I might go to jail for this shit, I realized. Or prison.

An officer finally came and asked me if I’d like to call anybody. Shit yeah I would. I asked them what my bail was, and he mumbled something about a judge not being available to determine that. I called Rachel, and started boo-hooing when she answered.

“Rache honey,” I finally said, “I’m in jail again, and it’s bad this time. Get everything beneath the mattress, count it, and have it ready for when I call you. For when they decide my bail.”

I told her a shortened version of the whole story, and told her I loved her. I finally hung up, the secretary was looking like she wanted her phone back. They took me back to my cell. I finally slept a while, on the cold bunk, with no blanket. By morning I was pretty agitated, but I kept my cool when they finally took me before the judge, who told me my bail was two grand. That was cool, I knew I had at least that much under my bed. I called Rachel, and she brought the money and picked me up.

“You makin’ a habit of this, girl,” she said, smiling at me. I sighed.

“I know Roxy did this shit. She’s dead, the bitch is abso-fuckin’-lutely dead,” I said.

“Naw, you don’t wanna go to the big house for a stupid-ass slut like her,” said Rachel. I nodded. Somehow, though, I’d get my revenge. Somehow. I wondered what her nose looked like now. I wondered how bad it’d hurt to punch her there again.

This time we had to retrieve my car from the impound lot, and the bastards charged us six bucks for that shit. We spent the rest of the afternoon hunkered down in our apartment, holding each other. I alternated between crying and being pissed off. Rachel was sweet, as usual, and just helped me by being there for me.

The next morning sucked after Rachel went to work, and finally that afternoon I drove to the Valley. I checked in with Terhune, and he motioned for me to follow him.

“Ruthie,” he said. Shit. I knew he was going to try and sweet talk me, he always called me Ruthie when he was coming on to me.

“Ruthie, you and I both know you didn’t have anything to do with that shit in your car. I think we both know who did, and it might make you happy to know that I fired her ass just a few minutes ago. She can’t dance, with her nose lookin’ like it does. I’m surprised you didn’t run into her in the parking lot, but that’s probably for the best.” Shit yeah it was, I thought, I’d bust her in the nose again.

“Anyway, let me know if I can help you. I know a good lawyer, he’s helped me out of some deep shit before. Here.”

He gave me a business card, and I stuck it in my pocket after looking at it. I almost laughed, the lawyer’s name was Percival Duckworth. My lawyer is a fucking duck, I told myself.

After a few more double enteendres Terhune let me go get dressed. I was satisfied, at least, that I wasn’t gonna be fired. And there was some icing on the goddam cake, not having to put up with Roxy’s shit any more. I owed Terhune for that. Maybe I’d give him a quick fuck, some night after everybody went home. Anyway, the night was hard on me, all I could think of was the shit hanging over my head, and if I’d go to prison or not. It was hard to keep my mind on dancing.

A bunch of college kids were there, rich little bastards, and I raked it in, giving lap dance after lap dance. My pussy got a little sore from being rubbed so hard, and my tits were almost bruised. These guys knew the ropes, and weren’t afraid to push the envelope. Well, I gotta admit, there ain’t much envelope with me, I pretty much let them do whatever they wanted. Before long I was sitting in a kid’s lap while he reached his hand around my waist, and pumped his finger in and out of my cunt. He kept sniffing it, giving me the giggles.

“We got a motel room,” he said, “come party with us. Bring one of your girlfriends.”

“Shit, man,” I said, thinking. This prison shit looming on the horizon. I already felt like I was gonna have to go. And that two grand for bail ... I’d pretty much shot my wad on that shit. Two grand was a lot, at five bucks a dance. I needed money. I wondered what I could take these kids for. And, it almost seemed like fun.

Don’t get me wrong. I love Rachel. Our love is deeper than just sex, it’s ... it’s spiritual, or somethin’. Is the word cerebral? Dunno. But, every now and then, I do like to be fucked deep and hard. What I told you about Darnell shows that. And these kids were young, clean and looked pretty cool. I knew they’d be hardbodies, and I knew they’d fuck like stallions. I wondered what Darla had planned after work. But first I had to get the idea across to them that it would cost them money. And how much.

“Baby,” I said, “that sounds like fun, but I’m not sure you could afford me. Especially two of us.”

“What we talkin?” he said.

I just grabbed a number from thin air. I realized I should have thought it out a little better, before I spoke.

“Four hundred for the two of us. Two hundred if it’s just me, if Darla don’t wanna do it.”

“Shit,” he said, “That’s pretty goddam expensive. Are you sure you’re worth it?”

“Darlin’,” I said. “I’m just gonna lay there. Whatever happens is up to you guys.”

He laughed at that.

“Do you do oral?” he asked.

“Hell yeah,” I said, “even good girls do oral now.”

That got another laugh. He wiggled around a little, and jabbed his finger back into my cunt.

“Lemme talk to my buddies,” he finally said, and I nodded.

“Lemme talk to my girlfriend,” I said.

After the song finished I went over to where Darla was. I hurriedly explained the situation to her.

“You think we can trust these guys?” she asked. I shrugged.

“It ain’t a matter of trust. We get the money ahead of time, and I’ll put it in my glovebox. Four hundred bucks is four hundred bucks, honey.”

“Okay, I’ll do it,” she said, nodding. I went back to the boy’s table.

The guy I’d danced for, the guy that kinda seemed to be the ringleader of the bunch, stood and whispered in my ear.

“Is four hundred your bottom dollar?” he said. “All we could come up with was a three hundred.”

Bullshit, I thought. These rich little fucks?

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey,” I said, looking sympathetic. “Maybe next time. You will come back, won’t you?”

“Shit,” he said. “Lemme see if anybody’s holdin’ out on me.”

I left him whispering to his buddies, and did a lap dance for one of my regulars, an old man named Dylan. He slipped me a ten, like he always did, and I kissed him and thanked him. When I made it back to the boy’s table, the chief nodded.

“Okay, it’s a deal,” he said. I nodded.

“Payable in advance,” I said, and he looked miffed.

“You don’t trust us?” he asked. I laughed.

“I don’t trust my own momma when four hundred bucks is concerned,” I said.

“Okay, when we get to the room,” he said, and I nodded. That was fair.

One thing left to do. I kinda hated to do it, but I had to. I owed her that. I got a guy to give me a quarter, and went to the pay phone by the bathrooms. I saw Terhune watching me, and smiled at him. He finally gave a tight little smile, and looked away.

I dialed our number. Rachel answered on the first ring.

“Rache, honey...” I said. I mean, shit, I’d done this shit before, and she didn’t get mad at me. She knew my style, she knew the shit I did, and she still loved me. I didn’t deserve somebody as good as her.

“Rache, I got a chance to make two hundred bucks. I’ll be a little late, I’ll try to be home by five, okay?”

“Sure, Ruthie,” she said. I tried to read her voice, but I couldn’t tell if she was pissed. She’d never been before, when I came home late.

“Honey, I’m sorry and I’ll miss you like crazy and I’ll make it up to you. This is just too good to pass up, some lap dances for a private party. Hell, I might make more than two hundred.” I felt guilty for not telling her the truth, that I was goin’ there to get the shit fucked out of me. I wondered if she believed me. I wondered if it’d bother her, if she knew.

“I understand, darlin’,” Rachel said. “Just take care of yourself. I’ll worry about you.”

“Awww,” I felt myself tear up. What a bitch I was, to do this to the girl I loved. “Honey, don’t. You know I’m a big girl. You know I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah. Just be careful. You be alone?”

“No, Darla’s comin’, too.”

“Good. Just stick together.” she said. I nodded, and then said “Yeah” when I remembered she couldn’t see me on the phone.

“I love you, honey. I love you the most,” I said, and after some shit like that I hung up. I looked at the clock. Shit. Still over two hours ‘til last call.

Big chief got in my car with me, in the passenger’s seat, to tell me where to go. We went down the street to the city proper, and finally ended up at a Motel 6. We all exited the cars, and Darla and I followed the boys to their room.

“Okay,” I said, standing in the doorway, not closing it. “You got the money?”

They mumbled among themselves, and one guy whispered rapidly something I couldn’t hear. I didn’t care much for him, I was already calling him Mr. Whiney-Ass in my head. And I was starting to not like the situation, but I had confidence in my ability to handle it. Finally the chief collected money from the other four boys, and counted it out to me. I handed it to Darla, and gave her my car keys from my purse.

“Go lock this in the glove box, honey,” I said. “We’ll wait for you to get back.”

Mr. Whiney-Ass started whispering again, I could tell he was protesting that move, but the chief shushed him. I really wondered what was up. I’d have to watch these guys pretty carefully.

When Darla got back, I closed the door and slid the chain in it.

“Okay, boys,” I said, staring at them. “Who’s first?”

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