TAILS OF THE PUSSYCAT LOUNGE (4 page)

Apparently they had just passed my turn when I got back to the dressing room and I have a long enough wait so that I can recover physically before my next turn.

When a girl who has just finished her turn tells me that I'm next, I get up and get warmed up again.

The Stage Manger gives me the go sign and I walk out onto the stage.
 
I start to dance and the guys start to needle me about my once again bright red pussy.

Instead of getting embarrassed or mad, I smile and tell them that they just don’t realize that I have the best stuff in the place.
 
I then dance closer to the front row than I have before and make sure that they get a good view of my red pussy.
 
Just to make sure I even open up my pussy a little bit as I sway in front of them.

One guy is really drunk and I make a point of focusing on him.
 
I can see his face get red and he starts to sweat.
 
I work pretty much on just the one guy.
 
Oh, I dance around enough for the whole crowd to get a good view of my breasts and my pussy, but I always try for eye contact with the one drunken guy.

By now, I'm too numb to really consider the fact that I, the little Princess, am dancing nude in front of a roomful of men.
 
I'm now reduced to just trying to lure one more customer into the back room so that I can make some more money.
 
I'm also trying to block out of my mind the fact that I may have to suck the customer’s cock.

I actually get too close to the front row and a couple of guys try to grab at my legs.
 
However, I skip away from them and get back away just far enough.
 
When I'm at a safe distance once again, I notice that my next customer is talking to the waitress.

When I finish my turn, the Stage Manager signals me that I have another back room date.

I take my own sweet time getting back to the room and the drunk is sitting there and naked, before I even arrive.
 
I walk in and pose for him.
 
He's hot as hell and his erection stands up from his lap.
 
I wiggle a little in front of him and tell him, “I could have left on my nylons while you fuck me if you had only made arrangements with the Bartender.
 
However, I'll leave on my garter belt, just for you.”
 
Meanwhile, I'm removing my French bra to show him that my firm tits don't sag.
 
It's the first time I have removed my French bra when I'm supposed to.
 
I realize that I have pretty much given up on the dream that I'm gonna’ get customers to come just watching my pussy wiggle as I slip off my nylons.

With the customer now focused on me, I pull up a chair and begin to remove my nylons, almost in his face.

The close up view of my pussy is too much for the man and, to my surprise and delight, he begins to come!
 
I leap over and begin to jack him off.
 
It's not what he wants, but he's really drunk and pretty much defenceless.
 
He leans back and takes a deep breath and then shoots his cum over my breasts.
 
I get the son of a bitch off without having to fuck or suck!

I stumble back over to the chair and put my shoes back on.
 
I pick up the one nylon I managed to get off before the customer climaxed.
 
I then toss the guy a towel and grab one for myself.

The customer isn't going to settle for a hand job and he tells me, “Come back you damned whore!”
 
His expression is nasty and he looks really threatening.

I pause and tell him, “Once you come, I have done my job.”

He gets up and gives me a really nasty look.
 
Then he starts to move toward me.
 
I'm scared as hell!

Suddenly, Taffy is there.
 
The guy is a couple of inches taller than Taffy.
 
However Taffy is much heavier, much stronger and much more sober.
 
As I turn and trot down the back hall, Taffy is demonstrating his strength and moving drunken boy out the other door.

I get to the dressing room and discover that I haven't even put a run in my nylon and I have only to put the nylon and the French bra back on and I'm ready to go again!

I'm able to take my next dancing turn and the guys in the audience are in some sort of turmoil.
 
Apparently drunken boy has been thrown out and nobody knows exactly what happened.

The guys in the front row want to know what happened.

I tell the guys, “Hey boys, you rent me at your own risk.
 
If you can't handle it, let a real stud through.”
 
I not only show them my red pussy, I actually flash it open for a moment and again tell them, “If you can’t handle it, don’t try it!”

I dance through three songs.
 
Since I can’t show them anything more, I tease them a bit this round, putting my hand over my ‘dangerous’ pussy and over my ‘dangerous’ breasts.
 
When the cat calls start, I tell them, “It's for your own good, I'm too hot for 'little boys' to handle.”
 
First a good nude dancer fucks their minds over, and then she fucks their bodies for cash.
 
What the hell, there's not much dignity in the job, but it’s a living!

When I finish my set, the Stage Manager gives me the high sign.
 
I have my fourth back room date!
 
Once again I take my time getting there.
 
I also work a bit with my fingers on my own pussy to get lubed, just in case.
 
I have a hunch this is going to be a fucking date instead of a jacking date.

When I get back to the room, the guy is waiting.
 
He still has his slacks on and the expression on his face shows me that he's determined that he's gonna get into my pussy no matter what.

I try the sexy wiggle.
 
I try the little girl giggle.
 
I try the tease.
 
I try the French bra strip with jiggle.
 
I try the nylon strip.
 
All it gets me is nude.
 
I put my shoes back on.

I go over, kick off my shoes and jump on the bed.
 
The guy drops his slacks and underpants, rolls on a condom, and joins me.

He doesn't waste time on any silly foreplay; he gets in hard and deep right away.

I'm still a bit loosened up from the first two fucks, so I'm ready for action.
 
I work the big, thrusting cock with my internal muscles as much as I can.
 
I'm trying to give the guy the maximum pleasure in hopes that he will come quickly and I can ‘go for fuck number five’ before the night is over.

It's not to be.
 
The guy is obviously experienced.
 
He's driving deep within me, but taking his time.

I try everything I can think of.
 
I move under him.
 
I tell him that his big cock is filling me up!
 
I moan, I sigh.
 
I really clamp on his cock, but it's like a wooden rod.
 
Finally I put my arms around him and beg him, “Fuck me!
 
Fuck me, big cock!”

That does the trick!
 
He keeps thrusting deep and hard, but the pace picks up and I urge him to go faster.

He's truly filling me up completely and, if this were my first fuck of the night, I would probably be in multiple climax.
 
However, I have had two fucks already and I'm getting very tired.

We race to the finish line together and I climax as he shoots the first stroke of his cum.
 
I also pretend to climax again with each stroke as he pumps his condom full of cum.
 
He then rolls off me.

I lie there breathing very hard and in a sort of ragged fashion.
 
It's not an act, I'm really tired.
 
I'm hoping he thinks it's passion and not fatigue.

He tells me, “Honey, you may be too much for little boys, but a man can get the job done.”

I have to agree with him, especially if I want a tip.
 
I stoke his ego a little, hoping for a good tip for all my hard work.

However, cheapo gets up and towels off, then dresses himself while I still lie on the bed.
 
He tosses me a towel and then struts off down the hall like a conqueror.
 
Oh well, some times you win, some times you lose.

Taffy comes in and sees me still on the bed.
 
He asks me, “Are you alright?”

I tell him, “I'm just suddenly exhausted after a hard night’s work.”

Taffy tells me that I have to get up, they need the room.
 
He then helps me up.

Whore Some More

I
STAGGER INTO THE dressing room and sit down.
 
A waitress appears in front of me.
 
She has a garter belt in her hand.
 
She wants me to give her my garter belt.
 
I ask why would she want my sweat and possibly cum stained garter belt?
 
Then, without thinking, I ask, “Tell me, would you like my sweaty nylons as well?”

The waitress snaps at me that she doesn’t want my garter belt.
 
She then tells me that a customer wants to buy my garter belt.

I'm blown away.
 
I have to wear a garter belt at work, Pussycat Lounge rules.
 
I'm now used to it and I don’t even think about it.
 
However, I wouldn't want to put on a garter belt that some other girl has just used.
 
However, the customer apparently isn't worried about it being used and, I suddenly realize, he probably really wants the garter belt with any lingering traces of me.

I ask, “Oh, would he like to buy my sweaty nylons too?”
 
Apparently he wouldn't.
 
However, a Pussycat Lounge girl has to try to make money where she can.
 
With a shock I realize that I'm really and truly becoming a whore and in less than one night.

We exchange garter belts.
 
I sign the name Nocturne on my old, sweaty belt, and then I flop down in the chair again.

Desiree walks in, pulls up a chair and sits down with me.
 
She tells me, “You did really great for a first night!”
 
She also tells me that I need to see one Judy and work on my dancing.
 
She continues by telling me, “You 'dated' three customers, gave one guy a hand job and good work!”

I realize that I'm now going to be a Pussycat Lounge regular.
 
Despite any lingering shame, my spirits soar!
 
I may have become a whore, but I'm going to be a damn well paid one.
 
I'll be able to afford a roof over my head, food and perhaps even other luxuries.
 
Then I think about how tired I am.
 
With some apprehension I ask Desiree how many customers I'm going to be expected to 'date' each night?

She tells me, “There's no quota, but you should try to date as many as possible.
 
The real money for a Pussycat Lounge dancer is in dating customers.”

I tell her, “Some customer bought my garter belt.”
 
I also tell her, “I can't believe how much he paid for it.”

Desiree says that she's aware.
 
She continues by telling me, “Selling the fetish stuff you wear can make you considerable money over time.
 
Since you're going to be a Pussycat Lounge regular, you'll be given your own lockable locker, instead of just using one of the public ones.”
 
She also tells me, “You should always bring in two or three times what you think you'll need to wear for each night.”
 
Apparently the customers like to buy, 'some of the stuff we wear.'

I ask her, “How much did the customer actually pay for my sweat stained, cum stained garter belt and was it what I was told?”

Desiree tells me the amount and that it's the going price.

I almost fall out of my chair.
 
I tell her, “You have to be kidding me.”

She tells me, “No, I'm not kidding.”
 
She then adds, “You're to sign each item you wear before you wear it.
 
If it then sells, it'll have been neatly signed and that's what the customer wants.”

I feel like I'm a character in some sort of surreal play.
 
I can't quite believe that what's happening around me is all real.
 
I ask Desiree, “Do you have any idea how much money total, I made for my work tonight?”

Desiree tells me, “Oh, it should work out to about $1,600.”
 
She apparently can see how shocked I am at the total.
 
She says, “Honey you date a couple of customers, suck a couple of cocks and ...”

I guess I react badly to the, 'suck a couple of cocks' bit.