Chapter 4: Sunk Costs

-- OCTOBER 2005, SENIOR YEAR --

She couldn't see us, not with the stage lights in her eyes and the darkness of the audience. But we could see her, and at virtually the same time Bert and I turned and gaped at each other. Between us, Kim glanced back and forth at each of us with raised eyebrows, although without the expression of utter shock.

Kady and Noelle were still out on their private dance, and Lynne was oblivious, her attention on the stage as she checked out the gorgeous brunette. But about thirty seconds later, Lynne turned to her boyfriend to ask his opinion of the dancer, only to find that he was huddled together with me and Kim. "What's going on?" she asked quietly.

Bert and I exchanged a look. "We know her," I replied.

Lynne smirked. "A past conquest of the infamous Big Ben?"

I shook my head seriously. "That's Sasha."

Lynne frowned. The name was semi-familiar. On more than one occasion, Bert and I had spoken of our project team, but Lynne didn't immediately recognize it.

Bert added, "She's our classmate and friend."

Only then did Lynne realize what was going on and her eyes went nearly as wide as ours. "I take it you didn't know she was a stripper?" she asked.

All three of us shook our heads. Lynne whistled in amazement.

On impulse, I reached forward and snagged one of the cards used to request a private session with a dancer. Scribbling Sasha's name at first, I rolled my eyes and crumpled the card up before shoving it into my pocket. Retrieving a second card, I instead wrote down "Emmanuelle".

Kim's eyebrows went up and Bert gave me a funny look. "You can't seriously be thinking about getting a lapdance from her," he said reproachfully.

I leveled him with a look and frowned. "I'm just going to TALK to her."

"You sure you want to do that? Maybe it's better if she doesn't find out we're here, and we can ask her in Berkeley some time."

"It's still early. What if she wanders by and recognizes one of us over the next hour or so? Better to have an excuse to get behind closed doors."

"We could leave now," Kim suggested quietly.

I shook my head, but nodded to Bert. "It's your twenty-first birthday, dude. You really want it to end now?"

My buddy scrunched up his face. "Well ... uh..."

Sighing, I raised my hand with the card, and Bert made no further protest. I think he was still looking forward to his own first lapdance. Moments later, a waitress snagged the card from behind me.

"The die is cast," I intoned quietly.

The curtained off room was larger than I would have thought, especially for downtown San Francisco where space was at a premium. But Nocturne was a little bit off the beaten path, so perhaps rent prices weren't so bad. It was bigger than Bliss, for example, with space for a plush vinyl couch in addition to a padded mattress for the more intense encounters.

Sasha dragged me by the hand straight to the couch and practically flung me into it, and then stood over me with an expression of shock and a little anger. Thrusting her hands at me for emphasis, she barked, "What the HELL are you DOING here?"

"Emmanuelle's" arrival at our table went about as you'd expect. A sultry exotic dancer gently rubbed my shoulder from behind as she spun around my chair, offering her best "come hither" look. Her face had transformed into the present expression of shock/anger immediately, although perhaps skewed a little more toward shock at the time as her eye level picked up and scanned across Kim and Bert as well.

But I was the one who had raised the card, at least according to the waitress who had fetched "Emmanuelle". And without a word, she'd taken me by the hand and done her level best to act normally as she led me back to the curtained private area. She even smiled at another waitress as we passed.

But the smile had dropped the instant we were behind closed doors ... er ... closed curtains. And even though I was pretty sure there was a closed-circuit camera above us somewhere, Sasha didn't seem to care about making this look good. She'd flung me into the couch, thrust her hands in my face, and barked her question about what the hell I was doing here.

"It's Bert's Birthday, remember?" I offered meekly. "We SAID we were going to a strip club. We even invited you to come."

"I didn't know you were coming to THIS ONE! I thought you'd end up at one of the glitzy, showy flesh-fests on Broadway!"

I blinked twice and shrugged, doing my best to remain calm. "Amber set this up for us. A couple of our friends are lesbians, and we asked her for low-key and less in-your-face."

Sasha buried her face in her hands and looked ready to cry. Turning around, she dropped onto the couch beside me, and on instinct, I wrapped an arm around her to give her a hug.

She didn't shy away from the contact. If anything, she pushed herself deeper against me while I stroked her back and tried to figure out what to say. Her occupation as a stripper had been a secret, of that I had no doubt. With that secret now revealed, I could only imagine what was going through her head. Shame? The job was considered a vice, after all. But if she was embarrassed in front of me, she wouldn't be letting me hug her, would she?

Or did she still feel shame at the secret being revealed, but feel okay about it being revealed to me? Was she more worried about what Bert and Kim might think, now that they knew as well?

Or was she so completely distraught in this moment that she couldn't handle the situation, period? Was she breaking down inside, feeling her world crashing around her so much that scarcely even realized who was holding her? Sasha had been going through a lot emotionally in the past couple of weeks or so. She'd broken up with her long-term boyfriend. She'd been ostracized by her original group of friends. And after spending more time with me and my clique in the aftermath, she now had to face the knowledge that WE now knew her secret occupation.

And I thought I'd had shitty weeks.

Not coming up with any words, I simply tried to hold her and reassure her with my very presence. Unfortunately, even that didn't last very long. See, there really WAS a closed-circuit camera in the room, and with my arm firmly wrapped around Sasha's scantily-clad body, I was committing a very big no-no.

A burly bouncer stepped in through the curtain and flipped on a light switch. The dim "seduction" illumination was quickly replaced with harsh white fluorescence, and as I blinked away the sudden brightness, I winced at the malevolent expression on his face.

"Tony, it's okay," Sasha said quickly, sniffling and raising a palm. "He's a friend."

"You don' look too 'appy," Tony drawled, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm alright. Really."

"Fine den. But ah'll be watchin'." Looking right at me, Tony pointed at the ceiling.

I nodded my understanding, and then he left, turning off the fluorescent lights as he went and returning us to the mood lighting.

The moment broken, Sasha seemed to be composing herself. Her makeup was thick, and her mascara had started to run. But she ran her hands over her scalp and took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, she glanced over at me and said, "You should probably get back to the others."

"Are you really okay?"

She gave me a weak smile. "I'll be fine. I do this all the time."

I gave her an innocent look. "You give lapdances to college classmates all the time?"

She shot me a look and punched me in the chest before cracking a true smile. Then taking another deep breath, she shrugged and clarified, "I've got two more requests after you. But I gotta go fix my makeup first."

"You sure?"

"Just go. Enjoy your evening. And if you're still here in another hour, I've got another set on stage."

I couldn't help it. I glanced down at her tuxedo outfit, trying to recall just what she'd looked like with the jacket puddled on the stage and her big tits out for everyone to see. As shocked as I'd been at her identity, I hadn't really appreciated the view at the time. "I'll be here," I replied thickly.

Sasha's eyes popped, and she punched my chest again. "You just wanna see my tits again."

I blinked. "Am I gonna be charged for the time in this room here and not get my money's worth?"

Sasha rolled her eyes, and then turning her face away, she reached down and pulled her jacket open, proudly putting her naked breasts on display for me from only a foot away.

I'd been right: Sasha had D-cups, and glorious ones at that. They matched her olive complexion, and her nipples were a duskier rose. Like magnets, the perfect orbs drew my palms to them. But Sasha slapped my hands and closed up her jacket. "You really are a sexual creature," she sighed.

I shrugged. "Guilty as charged."

"Go back to the others. Enjoy your evening. We'll... talk ... about this on Monday. Fair enough?"

I nodded, and Sasha stood us up. She led me by the hand out of the room, and once outside the velvet curtain she pushed me away with the same hand. "Monday," she stated with finality.

I nodded, and she turned to head toward the back, no doubt to fix her makeup. Taking a deep breath myself, I turned and headed back for the table with my hands in my pockets.

That actually turned out better than I would have thought.

For a while, Sasha was all we could talk about at the table after I returned. Bert stated plainly that he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to look at her the same way now that he'd seen her naked. With an arched eyebrow, I calmly started rattling off, "Robin, Gwen, Dawn, DJ, the Tri-Delts--"

"Okay, okay. So maybe I can."

Now it was Lynne's turn to arch her eyebrows. "Just what HAVE you been up to?"

Bert jerked a thumb at me. "I hang around with him."

"Point taken." Lynne smirked.

That exchange seemed to break the tension, as did the return of Kady and Noelle. Kim pointed out that the girls had been gone for a lot longer than just one song, at which Noelle blushed pink and Kady grinned salaciously.

From then on, we were able to return to enjoying our evening. And Bert did get two private lapdances, for which Lynne was very sure to point out to the girls, "It's his 21st Birthday."

Neither dancer resembled anything like Lynne, the first being a rather chesty redhead and the second our dear waitress Angelica. Bert came back from the redhead with a shit-eating grin on his face and he returned from his session with Angelica three songs later with a rather more embarrassed expression, not to mention an obvious hickey on his neck.

Kady and Noelle also got two more lapdances, both of them while together. But Lynne wasn't interested, not unless some hunky Chippendale waltzed in. I'd always known that while she was open-minded about such things, her personal arousal meter was pretty close to guys-only.

I also hadn't planned on getting a lapdance, not feeling the need to hassle with no-hands limitations and the semi-prostitution aspect of the business exchange. But Kim didn't feel comfortable getting a lapdance by herself, although she'd shown a very strong attraction to a sultry Chinese girl named Sammi. After she refused our prodding to go ahead and fill out a card, I finally filled it out myself and then dragged Kim with me. In the end, she got the lapdance on the "bed" while I got to sit on the couch and watch. It was a win-win all around.

"Emmanuelle" did do her second set an hour after the first, and if I didn't know any better I'd say she was showing off for us. Bert actually started filling out a request card for her, but a glare from me and a questioning eyebrow from Lynne made him think twice about it. He probably only started doing it in the first place because he was three sheets to the wind by that point.

The big surprise came at the end of the evening when I tried to pick up the tab. The drinks alone would have cost a pretty penny, not to mention the "extra services" we'd accumulated. But to my utter astonishment, Angelica informed us, "The bill has already been taken care of."

"By whom?" I jerked my head around the table, trying to figure out which one of my friends had beaten me to the check. But all of them gave me a blank look.

Angelica flipped a page on her booklet. "Uh, a Miss Amber--"

"Motherfucker..." Kady swore with a smile, interrupting our waitress.

"Yes," Angelica continued. "She arranged a package party for you. Everything is covered, including tips."

"I shoulda got a few more lapdances," Bert drawled drunkenly.

I smirked to myself. I'd of course invited Amber to come, especially since Nocturne was HER recommendation, but she'd been on call tonight. I swore to myself to find some way to make it up to her, even if I was no longer allowed to do so in my usual manner.

All in all, Bert's strip club birthday party was a rousing success. I'd stopped drinking after the first Manhattan and was the designated driver, a good thing since Kady was even more drunk than Bert (no surprise). I got us all back to the girls' Stanford apartment complex in one piece, and had to clear my throat a couple of times to get Kady and Noelle to pull their tongues out of each other's mouth and fix their clothing in the third row. In the middle row, Bert was sound asleep on Lynne's shoulder, and I helped her get him into her apartment.

As for Kim and me, our original plan had been to drive back to Berkeley. But with the late hour, and since Lynne's roommate Ivonne had gone home for the weekend, Lynne invited us to crash in the second bedroom and Kim quickly accepted. After doing a minimal amount of freshening up, a visibly inebriated Kim took me by the hand into the bedroom and stripped down to her panties before directing me to do the same. She then pushed me onto the bed and crawled in after me, rubbing my bare chest and sticking her tongue down my throat for a little while.

My conscience complained for a little bit about taking advantage of a drunken Kim. But after seeing so much boobage and other body parts of sensual, naked females all night, Big Ben was thick and ready to go inside my boxers and I wasn't really in the mood to turn her down. I wouldn't have to. After a minute or two of kissing, Kim sighed and then turned around, spooning herself against my chest. She set her head down on the pillow and pulled my hand up to cup her bare right breast. And then with another contented sigh, she drifted off to sleep.

It had been a good night.

Sunday morning, Kim was back to her normal, hands-off self. She didn't show any signs of guilt over what we'd done the night before, but neither did she make any move to replicate her actions. We accepted Bert and Lynne's offer of breakfast, which grew into sort of a brunch thing when Kady and Noelle came down and even Amber stopped by on her way IN after pulling a night shift at the hospital.

I hugged Amber a big "thank you" for arranging the previous evening, along with a friendly slap on the ass for deceiving me about the bill. She smirked and quite deliberately groped my package before raising a finger and wagging it reproachfully in my face. She also kissed Bert's cheek for a belated happy birthday. And then she downed an egg-white omelet with some orange juice and went upstairs to get some sleep.

Kim drove back to Berkeley with me, her arms wrapped around my waist as I sped her Honda Fireblade across the Dumbarton Bridge and up 880. We took showers and both crashed for Sunday afternoon naps, albeit in our own bedrooms this time. And then we got some homework done sandwiched around dinner, for which Brooke and DJ returned to the house for the latest Project Ben creation.

After dinner, I found myself on the couch watching NFL highlights while the girls handled cleanup, only fair since I had done the cooking. I had thought about getting some schoolwork done before the next day (Sunday night IS a school night, after all), but since nothing was pressing and I was feeling lazy, I stayed right where I was.

I was zoned out enough that I didn't realize my head was being pulled backwards until after the movement had been completed, and I found myself forcibly staring at the ceiling with someone's hands gripping my temples, at least until DJ's face interposed itself between me and the wood beams above. I barely had time to register the upside-down smile on her face, or the particular twinkle in her eyes before her lips met mine. And then our mouths were suddenly open in the instinctive yet unfamiliar movements of the Spider-Man kiss.

The remote control fell limply from my hand as the gorgeous blonde managed to climb over the backrest without breaking our liplock, only rotating it. She wound up straddling my lap, her scoop neck of her top allowing my chin to be squashed in the bare breast tissue of her deep cleavage. And after sliding both hands down to cup my jaw, she looked down at me with an inviting smile.

"Football? Or me?"

I smirked up at her. "How about both?"

DJ arched an eyebrow inquisitively, and I gestured downward with only my irises. She got it a moment later, and that twinkle in her eye intensified. And the smoking hot coed slithered down my torso like she were made of liquid until she wound up kneeling before the couch, and her hands then moved in to unfasten my jeans.

I mused for a moment about just how lucky a damn sonovabitch I was to have such a breathtakingly beautiful young woman willing to do this sort of naughty thing at the drop of a hat. DJ had no security of a committed relationship. Thousands of guys on this campus would kill for the chance to trade places with me, and she damn well knew it. And yet she was here with me.

And while I watched the highlight of a tipped-ball interception, there went my cockhead into her mouth.

It was a shitty time for the doorbell to ring. But ring it did, and DJ pulled off my cock to frown at me, her expression mirroring my own. For a moment, we both waited to see if the visitor would just go away, but the bell rang again, and I realized that even if neither of us went to get it, Brooke or Kim eventually would and we'd still have to stop what we were doing.

So after groans from both me and DJ, I got up to see who had come to visit on a Sunday night. Flipping on the porch light, I checked the peephole and then stood up in surprise. Opening the door quickly, my frown turned into a smile as I said, "Sasha ... on a Sunday? This is a surprise."

"Hey Ben," she greeted me warmly, dressed in the clothes I was used to seeing her in: plain, unshapely, and generally the exact opposite of what I'd seen her wear at Nocturne. "I hope you're not busy or anything."

"No, no. Just hanging out," I replied immediately. A second later, DJ belied my words by coming up behind me and sliding both arms around my body, hugging me rather intimately as if to continue the frisky play we'd been engaged in up until a moment ago.

Sasha frowned, a wince forming on her face. "Uh ... I'm sorry. I should have called first. If this is a bad time, I can be going..."

"No, not at all," I replied immediately. Taking a step back and opening the door further, I gestured her inside before turning to DJ and saying, "Hey kiddo. Maybe later, huh?"

DJ pouted, giving me an angry look, but she nodded and released me to return to the living room. Sasha looked up at me with raised eyebrows, but then came inside and let me close the door behind her.

"What's up?" I asked quietly.

"I just wanted to talk ... about last night, of course." Sasha blushed. "I still owe you an explanation for ... all that. I was having dinner and realized I didn't want to put things off until Monday."

I shook my head. "You don't owe me anything. Your personal life is your personal life, and you certainly didn't have to come all the way here. I sort of figured you'd give me, Bert, and Kim the cliff notes version after class or something."

"No, I needed to come here. I needed to do this face-to-face, and I couldn't wait until tomorrow."

I blinked and nodded, then gestured down the hall. "Maybe we can go up to my bedroom? I'm not going to try anything; it's just private and semi-soundproofed."

"Sure." Sasha nodded and walked ahead of me, but when we got to the archway to the living room, we found that Kim had come out from the kitchen where she'd been cleaning up dinner, apparently curious to see who had come to to door. Sasha stopped and glanced back at me. "Oh, I didn't realize Kim would be here tonight."

"She stuck around for the weekend." I shrugged. "Might as well tell her everything, too."

I started gesturing for Kim to join us, and she waved shyly, but Sasha spun around to her with an apologetic expression. "Hi Kim. It's nice to see you again, but actually ... if you don't mind ... can I just talk to Ben alone?"

Kim measured Sasha with a glance and then nodded. "Of course." She waved us on.

Sasha went first, turning and going up the stairs. Behind her back, I popped my eyebrows at Kim. She gave me an "I-don't-know-either" look and gestured for me to go after Sasha. And I quickly did just that, hopping up each tread a little more quickly to catch up.

Having been to the house before, she knew the way to my bedroom, although she'd never actually been inside it. She paused just inside the door, looking around for a good long while, and as I stood behind her I similarly scanned the room while silently cursing myself for not tidying up at all. My room wasn't a MESS, but it certainly wasn't giving its best impression, and for some reason I wanted Sasha to have a good impression of me.

A moment later, she walked directly for the small sitting area my room had by the window. She went over and looked outside for a moment, taking in the view outside with the darkening sky as the street lamps were just beginning to turn on. I closed the door and followed after, and as I settled down onto one of the armchairs, she turned around with both arms crossed over her midsection. "I don't think I know where to start."

"Wherever you feel comfortable."

"It's kind of a long, complicated story."

I shrugged. "I've got the time, and I'm here to listen if you need to talk."

She sighed. "I do. Nobody knows this story. Well, ROD knows the story, as do most of our old friends. But nobody outside that group, and now that I'm no longer a part of them, I feel ... I feel..."

"Isolated?"

"Yeah."

"Left all alone?"

"Yeah."

"That's natural. It's a part of any break up, and something I'm unfortunately all too familiar with."

Sasha snorted. "You? Surrounded here by friends and family?"

"Well, perhaps. When Dawn left me, I was staring into this summer feeling quite alone. Bert and Kim were both gone. Gwen and Robin were Dawn's friends. And really, I didn't have any other true friends beyond them."

"Your sister is here. And DJ. And Bert and Kim came back."

I nodded. "I'm not trying to compete with you for loneliness. I just wanted to express that I can understand the feeling of being isolated."

"Right, right." She exhaled. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to jump all over you like that. I'm just ... unsettled right now."

I decided not to respond verbally, and instead let Sasha continue talking. She paused for another moment, and then as if noticing the second armchair for the first time, she went to it and sat down heavily. She fiddled with her thumbs at first, and then taking a deep breath, she looked up at me and said, "You're probably wondering why I wanted to talk to you alone."

"The thought did cross my mind."

"This isn't the kind of thing I want to make public knowledge – not just my day job ... well, evening job – but the whole back story as to how I ended up becoming a stripper. Bert and Kim are friends, but ... I just ... I ... Can I trust you? Can I trust that you won't spread this around?"

"Absolutely."

She nodded. "I know, of course. I just feel better hearing you say it. I'll have to tell them a little bit, of course. I can't pretend they didn't see me at the club, but they don't need to know the gory details, alright?"

"You don't have to share the gory details with me, either. I'm curious, of course, but you don't owe me any explanations."

"Maybe not, but I still want you to know."

I nodded, and Sasha collected herself again. Her significant hesitations to explain everything had my wild imagination conjuring up all kinds of sordid affairs in her past, something I was trying to keep it from doing. Sasha's background was a black hole of information, even after more than a year of being project teammates. But I didn't think it would help anybody for me to start speculating on what I didn't know. I had to be patient, be a good listener, and be the best friend I could be at a time like this. Less than two weeks ago she had been that friend for me, listening as I poured my heart out about the breakup with Dawn, and now it was my turn.

Sasha took one final deep breath, let out a long exhalation, and then grabbed each armrest with a hand, tightening her grip on the corners. "Okay, here goes," she began.

She was right. Compared to her, I knew NOTHING about isolation.

"Your first question would be the obvious one: How did I become a stripper?"

I made a face. "I'm not judging what you do for an occupation."

"I know that, but it's something about me you didn't know before and I already know you're curious. You were curious enough to put in a request card for me just to initiate a confrontation--"

"ConverSAtion," I corrected.

Sasha cracked a smile. "Whatever."

"Well, you DID tell me you were a waitress at a club downtown, usually working both weekend nights."

"That's true enough. I AM a waitress. The customers like having that social interaction with us before we go on stage. It lets them see us as more than sex objects, which then makes the sex object part that comes later all the more ... uh ... intimate."

I remembered the particular arousal I felt watching Angelica on stage, knowing she'd been our server that evening, and I had to agree. "I think you also said the last thing you wanted was for me and my friends to go have dinner there."

"Well THAT ship has sailed."

I smirked and nodded. And then without really meaning to, I let my eyes drop to her bosom-level, remembering how they'd looked when she flashed me from only a foot away.

"Ben, really?"

I jerked my gaze back up to her eyes, blushing sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Couldn't help it. You're usually so ... covered up."

"Like now?" She put her hands on her hips and thrust her chest forward, making her boobs dent out the bulky sweater she was wearing. Her torso was still relatively shapeless because of the sweater, but there was no obscuring the size of those dents.

"Why is that, anyway? With a body like yours, why do you hide it? Little makeup. Baggy clothes. You can already look around the campus and know that thousands of girls who don't have your physique are still dressing to impress while only wishing they had your curves."

"I'm on display enough, don't you think? Despite doing what I do, I'm not an attention-whore. Besides, I'm here to study, not to hook up. I've found that I can focus on my schoolwork better when I don't have guys walking up and hitting on me all the time. Plus, the last thing I want is for someone who's actually been to the club to recognize me while I'm here. As for all the flirting and sex stuff, that's what my boyfriend is for."

I nodded my understanding, but Sasha was giving that thousand-yard stare at the wall.

" ... WAS for..." she finished, as if only now remembering that she'd broken up with Rod."

I waited her out, letting her collect herself without any pressure.

Eventually she did, and taking a deep breath she focused once again on me. And in a subdued voice, she began, "So that brings us back to the original question: How did I become a stripper? Or maybe more importantly: Why?"

I gestured for her to continue.

She sighed. "The first reason is obvious: I need the money. And for whatever else you may say about stripping, the pay is huge. But then again, so is tuition here."

I blinked in surprise. "You're stripping to pay your way through college?"

She gave me a sideways smile. "Am I really such a cliché? I have no money of my own. And I don't have any family support. Oh, I've got a couple of academic scholarships, but almost every red cent I earn goes into paying for tuition and housing. This school isn't cheap, and working a full-time job would cut into my study time way too much. Working at the club has been the best way for me to make as much money as I could just on weekends."

My mouth gaped open. "Wow ... uh ... okay." I nodded my head slowly, digesting all that. If Sasha had stopped right there, I would have been fine. She needed a job to pay for school, and she'd found one that could do it for her. Not every penniless student had a body like hers to earn money the way she did, so she was literally working with what she had. I couldn't judge her for it.