On hot summer days in the club we can’t wait to strip. The tiny bikinis and fishnet bodysuits hold our sweltering skin hostage as we roll and writhe on the faux wood laminate club stage. The annoyance of sweaty tendrils of hair stuck to our brows turns to delight as our naked torsos lay spread eagle expertly angled toward the box fan blowing air toward the stage floor. There’s nothing like a blast of cold air to the crotch while you’re dancing for dollars in July.
This hot summer weekend day had turned to night and the nine pm start shift was getting busy. Nine pm start dancers close the club down at 2:30am.
A huge concert down the street at the Crystal Ballroom brought weekend partiers in for pre-game shots and bomb Mexican food served from the tiny kitchen next door to the original Marys Club. The stage side chairs were full and I was peeling dollar bills off my sweaty body as they stuck to my skin. With my hand and forearm I swished them toward the back corner of the stage under the wall mounted jukebox and out of my floor work radius.
As my three song set came to an end, I asked each person at my stage for a dance. There were no takers, just lots of “sorry we are headed to the show now” excuses. But the club was so packed that as soon as these show-goers left their seats, they were taken immediately by other customers looking for an open spot. Scanning the room, I noticed that there were far more hetero couples present in the club than usual.
Hetero couples. The sight of them makes so many strippers cringe. Many strippers will outright avoid couples, opting instead to approach men sitting alone or men sitting in groups. More often than not, the woman in the couple is there at least a little unwillingly, or feels jealous or uncomfortable. Sometimes women customers make a show out of themselves to draw their dates attention away from the dancers. Sometimes they verbally berate the dancers or criticize their dancing. It can be difficult to make much of an income off of hetero couples, and it leaves strippers wondering why they even come into the club—if you cant have fun, why the hell are you here? However, every once in a while they will surprise you. I will always approach them to test the waters or simply say a friendly hello and ask for a tip if they are not tipping already. You really never know how they’ll be, and sometimes they are so much fun.
One of these couples was standing in a crowded corner of the dark club when I stepped off stage. Much to my surprise, the woman was excitedly waving me over with a wad of bills in her hand. Okay then, let’s see about her. As I approached, squeezing my way past loud drunk customers packed into the tiny space like sweaty sardines in a tin can, I could see the telltale signs that she was drunk and having the best time. A tall and muscular woman, she was dressed up in a slinky black knee length dress with spaghetti straps. I could tell her breasts were implants, sitting high and saluting me with rock hard nipples that pushed against the black cotton spandex fabric, not a bra strap in sight. She was clearly the dominant one. The man was clean cut and on the shorter side, quietly standing just behind her and dressed impeccably in black slacks and a black button up shirt. He smiled shyly as I approached, his perfectly groomed facial hair arching around a genuine grin, revealing Hollywood white teeth. She lunged forward and put an arm around my shoulder. “You are fabulous!” she gushed. “We just have to get dances with you right now.”
A more perfect situation couldn’t have transpired. Asking a dancer for private dances as soon as they step off stage means you have more time to spend with them- they won’t be back up on stage in the rotation for a while. I also love dancing for couples because I charge by the person, meaning double.
I let them know the price and they didn’t blink, she just smiled, shoved money in my hand and said “Let’s start with this, we have more!”
Pulling back the black curtain, we entered the tiny room fashioned from curtains and lit by a single dim red bulb affixed haphazardly in one corner. At the nights end when the house lights come up, it’s revealed to be a simple desk clamp light with a dim red bulb, but during open hours it’s soft warm glow is the sexy backlight of shadowy fantasies in a secluded corner of the room. I guided them to their sit on a wide upholstered bar booth bench against the wall. The music started and I began to sway seductively, moving my black manicured nails through my hair and down my body. The man tucked himself awkwardly into his corner, his facial hair illuminated by the dim red bulb beside him. He smiled a playful grin and outreached one hairy arm to rest on her thigh, giving it a squeeze. I returned his grin with one of my own and a devious little wink. He clearly wanted to watch me dance for her. That was his kink.
In my almost two decades of experience, I’ve learned that men and women respond to different stimulus in private dances. There are certainly nuances to every person, but I’ve found that men are more visual and tactile creatures while women respond to a perceived emotional connection. Women want to feel wanted. I locked eyes with her and leaned forward, placing my forehead to hers and draping my long hair over her. She sighed, deeply inhaling my perfume. Always a good sign.
She told me that they were adventurous and had decided to come to the strip club before traveling to their final destination of the evening, Sanctuary Swingers Club. These two were planning to watch and be watched at the sex club. Mary’s was their pregame spot.
Clearly she was enjoying her lap dance, smiling and giggling. When their prepay amount ran put the gentleman was more than happy to pay more to keep the fun going. As I turned away from them to give them a great view of my ass, I noticed that she was sliding downward in the booth, grinning ear to ear. She placed her hands underneath her body to support herself and began raising her hips, undulating them in a circular motion, her dress sticking to her sweaty thighs. Her partner’s grin was ear to ear and his eyes were big. I giggled. Sometimes the way people let loose at the club is so funny and delightful. When they are respectful, I’m happy to be the catalyst for a magical evening.
As our dances continued, I lost track of time. We were laughing, drinking, flirting. She’d get up and dance with me, we’d dance for him, I’d dance for her. She would occasionally let out a little shriek or sigh. He just kept smiling and handing me money, which I’d shove into my purse hanging on a little hook on the booth wall. I happened to peek through the red curtain and see Maggie strutting her stuff on stage. She was playing with her black lace bottoms, ready to remove them and slide them down her very long legs. Since she was nearly nude, I knew it was almost my turn on stage again. As Maggie’s song ended, my couple said they had to go. “We had the best time!” the glamazon in the black dress cooed. “Wanna know a secret? I have to show you.” She leaned back in the booth, knees wide. Grabbing the silky hem of the dress with her red manicured fingers, she slowly pulled up the edge. I raised an eyebrow, and almost stopped her, but before I could, she revealed herself, no panties, and a very sparkly toy stowed in her ass. I couldn’t help but laugh. Her sense of delight at the reveal was contagious. Pointing to her companion, she said “He has the remote!” Her eyes got big and she smiled so big I felt like I could see all her teeth.
“You’re so naughty! I gasped, feigning shock. It’s hard to shock me after years working in clubs. My reaction pleased her. Her man stood up and lovingly kissed her neck, then grasped her hand in his. With the other hand he gave me a generous tip. Joyous, they walked out of the club and toward the orgy destination. I wiped the sweat off my brow, tied my bikini back on and jumped on stage.
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