Chapter 1

It was during my second year at university that I started earning some extra money by doing a bit of part-time stripping in one of the pubs near my student house. It was Katie, one of the girls in the house next door, who suggested it. She’d done the same thing during her second year, though she’d now had to give it up to concentrate on working for her final-year dissertation and exams. We’d met up in the Union building for coffee, and I was moaning about not having any money for important student things like drink, weed and clubbing.

“You’d be a great stripper, Annie,” she said. “Lots of the blokes like girls with small tits, and you don’t really need to be able to dance, just flirt with them and shake your arse a lot. I used to do a dirty schoolgirl routine, and it drove them wild. The basic pay’s crap, but you get to keep any money the punters stuff into your knickers. So if they like you, you can do pretty well, especially on a Saturday night when they’re all pissed and showing off to their mates.”

“Don’t they call them ‘exotic dancers’ these days?” I asked.

Katie shrugged. “Maybe in the fancy establishments they do,” she said. “But in the Farringdon Arms you’re a stripper, and that’s what they expect you to do. Get naked with a bit of wiggling your bits, and everybody’s happy.”

All things considered, it sounded like a fair deal to me. I reckoned I was a fairly good dancer, I didn’t have any qualms about taking all my clothes off in public, and I reckoned I could deal with any guys who tried it on too heavily. Katie took me over to the pub one lunchtime to meet Phil and Peggy, who ran it. The Farringdon Arms was pretty rough-looking, to be honest, but Peggy seemed to take a shine to me from the start and agreed to give me a trial.

I took Katie’s advice and made myself up a slutty schoolgirl’s uniform. It was surprisingly cheap to put together, requiring little more than a trip to Marks & Spencer for some long white socks, plaid skirt, white shirt, and a tie. With this outfit and my hair in pigtails, I had to admit I looked pretty innocent; until I started taking it all off. I also went for a full Hollywood wax job; Katie said that most of the clientele liked to see a hairless pussy. My personal preference was for a light growth around there, but if the paying customers wanted bare, then bare they would get.

I did a couple of Sunday afternoons to start with, which were pretty low-key but popular with the locals. These sessions seemed to go well, and soon Peggy offered me a few Friday and Saturday night slots, which tended to attract the after-work city crowd. They were wilder, drunker, and much less respectful, but if they liked you, they stuffed some pretty big notes into your undies.

On this particular Friday night, after I’d been working for a couple of months, there was an especially rowdy crowd of city boys in, celebrating some big deal they’d pulled off. I was the third girl on that evening, and by the time I strutted onto the stage at about 10:00 they were already plastered. I gave them my usual routine, dangling my socks in front of them and wrapping my tie round their necks as each item came off. Once I was down to my bra and knickers the notes started to be stuffed into my undies, usually in such a way as to cop a quick feel of my tits or pussy.

One guy especially was lapping it all up. He wasn’t actually as drunk as most of the others and had found himself a place right against the stage where he got a good view of me. I gave him a bit of a show, dangling my tits in front of his face and stuffing my knickers down the front of his shirt, too much raucous laughter from his mates. I’d seen him stuff at least £50 in notes into them, so I reckoned he deserved something in return.

After I’d finished, I was getting dressed again backstage when Peggy put her head round the door.

“Good show tonight, Annie,” she said. “And I think you’ve got a fan. That guy who got your knickers at the end, he’s asked if he could have a private show in one of the booths upstairs, just you and him.”

I knew the rules about “private shows”. Peggy had fitted out a couple of the bedrooms for one-to-one sessions. The contract we signed was strict – it was stripping only, with no “extras” allowed, but of course, that was on paper only. Everyone knew, including Peggy, that it was up to the guy and the girl to come to their own arrangements.

I’d not been asked to do one before, so I was well pleased. The fee was a straight £100 in advance, of which Peggy took half, but for me, an extra £50 was a welcome bonus.

So, I put my schoolgirl outfit back on again, together with a clean pair of panties, and went up to the room. My admirer was there, sitting in an armchair, a drink on the table at his side.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. “It’s Annie, isn’t it? I’m Dick. I enjoyed your performance downstairs. Won’t you do the same for me again now?”

There was a music system on the wall, so I slipped my CD of Britney Spears into the slot and hit play. As the familiar strains of “ ... Baby One More Time” blasted out, I began my routine, teasingly unbuttoning a few buttons on my white shirt to give a glimpse of my tits, hidden at the moment in a plain white school-type bra. As I gyrated in front of my one-man audience, allowing him a few cheeky glimpses of my panties under my skirt, I saw him unzip his trousers, take out his cock and begin to stroke it.

He smiled at me and I smiled back. I’d expected something like this and was just pleased that he was enjoying the show. I removed my tie and undid the rest of the shirt buttons, before removing the garment entirely. Dick’s cock was rock hard by now, so I saw no reason to delay taking off my bra any longer. As my now bare tits jiggled like two little jellies in time to the music, he took a £20 note out of his wallet.

“Can I touch them?” he asked, holding out the note.

“Sure, be my guest,” I said, taking the note and slipping it into the waistband of my skirt. Spreading my legs, I straddled one arm of his chair, giving him a clear view of my panties. He continued to play with his cock with one hand while the other fondled my tits. My nipples hardened as he fingered them, and he smiled.

I couldn’t help glancing at his cock, which looked fully erect by now and must have been eight inches long and nicely thick too. He saw me looking.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

It’s lovely,” I said. I could hardly say otherwise, but it was actually true.

“So how much for a blowjob?” he asked bluntly.

Most of the girls charged £30 for oral, but I was feeling generous.

“Another twenty,” I said, and he handed one over without hesitation. His wallet was bulging as much as his cock, so I was hopeful there was more to come. I knelt on the floor between his legs and took his erection in my hands, then licked teasingly around the smooth shiny knob.