Chapter 2: Len reveals

Len had a little flat on the top floor of a three storey Victorian building. She called it a flat, but in essence it was one room for sitting, eating and sleeping, a very small kitchen, and equally small bathroom. She showed me the kitchen asking me to make coffee then said she was going for a shower.

"Got to get all this make-up and body cover off. Won't be a sec." I found mugs, instant coffee, milk from the small fridge, and boiled the kettle. I looked askance at the power plug. It was like a Christmas tree with so many two way fitments, all plugged in to another in order to supply her various appliances. To be honest I thought it was bloody dangerous.

I made the coffee and took the mugs through to the main room. The flat had obviously been converted from the roof space, as the ceilings sloped down at opposite ends of the room to about three feet from the floor. A bed was tucked under one, with a dormer window just over it. She had lots of bookcases and even some books, but most of the shelf space was housing various ornaments, photos, and even a pair of Ballet shoes. There were two chairs either side of an electric fire which was fixed to the wall opposite the kitchen. Between the door to the kitchen and the door to the bathroom was a small table. I sat down. After a few minutes Len came bustling out of the bathroom, wearing a towelling robe, and with her hair wrapped up in another towel. The robe was very short, and did not appear to be tied too securely. She spotted her coffee and bent down to pick it up. As she did the robe gaped open revealing her breasts. I looked away. She noticed.

"Danny, you have already seen it all, and you paid a lot of money for the pleasure. Now you can see it for nothing." She untied the belt and held the robe open. I knew I was blushing, I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I didn't know where to look, at her breasts, her pussy; of which I was seeing much more than even the little flash I got when she was on stage; or her face. It didn't matter, everything was beautiful. Len was laughing at me.

"What's the matter Danny? Don't you like what you see?" She re-tied her robe. Then she stopped laughing and a look of concern came to her face. She came over and knelt by me.

"I'm sorry Danny. I laughed at you, that wasn't a very nice thing to do." I cleared my throat of the huge boulder which somehow had lodged there.

"It's OK, Len. I know I must seem like some country bumpkin to you, but to tell the truth I was struck dumb at how lovely you are."

Len smiled, then reached up and kissed my cheek.

"Thank you, Danny." She got up and taking her coffee went and sat in the other chair.

"I'm sorry about flashing you." she apologised. "It means very little to me, I mean to show myself naked. I forget that to others it can be ... well different." I was shaking my head.

"No Len. As I said you are beautiful," she smiled when I said that, "I was still imagining you as the girl who was my friend. I was shocked at how I reacted." She didn't say anything for a moment.

"Danny, I am still the girl who was your friend. It's been ten years or so since your family moved. I didn't forget you, although you did fade a bit in my mind. But seeing you again and talking with you, just reminded me what a good friend you were."

I asked the question, that I had been wanting to ask, and Len wanted to answer.

"So how did you get into stripping?" She laughed, and I must admit I liked to hear her laugh.

"At last!" She said. "OK. You know I wanted to be a Ballet dancer." I nodded, I had known that. "Well I tried really hard, but gradually I understood that I was never going to make the grade. My dancing was good, but not good enough, and I was becoming a little too voluptuous to be accepted. I liked my food too much, and the idea of starving myself four or five days a week was way beyond what I was prepared to do. So I quit the school. I did a bit of temping for a few months whilst I tried to think what I could do. Then in 'The Stage' I saw an advert asking for dancers to audition for a troupe. I went, auditioned, and got a position. This was an all girl troupe, doing basic revue stuff, you know, dancing in line, kicking up the legs. All in unison. We rehearsed for three months, and then got a booking in Paris. It wasn't one of the big theatres, but it was Paris." She took a sip of coffee. As she did that I commented

"That sounds good. What happened?"

"Yes," she said. "Too good to last. Our contract was six months, and most of us were sure it would be renewed. But suddenly two of the girls left to get married. Then another three wanted to get home to England. They didn't like Paris it seemed. Well you can replace one or two, but with five gone, we couldn't renew the contract, without going into rehearsal with five new members for another few weeks, and the theatre boss wouldn't wait for us. But he did make an offer for any of us who would do it. He wanted some topless showgirls. Now showgirls didn't dance, they just paraded gracefully around the stage and posed. The important thing was the money. It was much better than we got individually for dancing. I decided to have a go."

I had seen pictures in magazines, and the occasional clip on TV, so I understood what she was describing.

"Was it like the Folies Begere, or The Crazy Horse?"

Len nodded. "Yes, Danny, but not as posh as those places. The next production, and there I was, tights, a Cache-sexe, and loads of tall feathers, and bare-breasted." I interrupted her.

"A what? You said a cache something or other."

Len explained "A Cache-sexe. It what they call those very small panties, designed to show all of your bum and thighs, but just covering your pussy. They also cover the waist on your tights. There were even smaller styles, just covering the front bit." My mind was overwhelmed.