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Authors: Lenox Hills

The Beginning

BOOK: The Beginning
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A Lenox & Jonathan story of love and lust Part 1

Adult Contemporary Romance Serial

Originally Published June 28, 2015

 

 

Wednesday

 

I had just moved to Manhattan after getting a liberal arts degree and hoping to break into journalism, acting, or whatever. But after a few months and several auditions and sample stories sent out, I was broke. I was lucky that I had a good safe place to live. My mom’s best friend from college had a daughter a few years older than me that took a two-year internship in Beijing and wanted to keep her affordable large studio on the Upper East Side. So I sublet for next to nothing and took care of her sweet kitty as well. Cut to six months later, no job except for waiting tables at a local cafe without enough hours, my savings gone, and my student loan payments coming due in ten days. It was also coming up on Christmas and I wanted to send some presents home since I was not going back for a visit. I lied about working on a great investigative piece for the Village Voice. I scoured craigslist every few hours in every category, looking for work. The same ad kept getting my attention, “Come in today, and work tonight! Go home with cash for rent!” I knew it was an ad for a strip club but it had a good address. I mean in a safe-ish area of the city, right off Broadway between downtown and mid town. It had been there forever and even though rumors said it was mob owned and operated, nothing bad happened there according to all the things I read online about it. It even had positive yelp reviews, but what guy would give a bad review to any place with naked girls. I decided to go in, just to look, and check it out, during the daylight, I went at 2pm. I was desperate.

 

A doorman dressed in a cheap suit opened the door for me, as I walked past his blazer opened up a bit and I saw the flash of a gun. A gun? This scared me and excited me at the same time. I walked up to the cashier window and stood there, she looked up at me from her US Weekly, and she had on more makeup than a drag queen. Once she saw I was a woman, she looked back down and waved me past her window. It was a long dark hall with black lights; my sublets cat's white fur was glowing on my black wool coat. I could hear some eighties metal music as I walked down the hall. The closer I got to the end, I could see flashing lights sneaking out around the bottom of two heavy black velvet curtains. There was another bouncer at the curtains, he pulled one aside for me, and I was blinded by bright flashing colorful lights that whirled and turned all around the club.
HERE I GO AGAIN ON MY OWN DOWN THE ONLY ROAD I'VE EVER KNOWN.
It took me a minute to get my bearings and for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and dual brightness of the club. When they did, I looked around and saw a large stage flush to my right with a DJ booth high up behind it. Straight in front of me was a square bar with a small stage in the middle. Next to the bar were different levels that stepped up into small lounge areas with tiny tables and a few chairs around them. I would guess I saw six or seven girls total, one on stage, one behind on the bar stage and the rest sitting and talking to men at these little tables. I must have stood there for more than a few seconds because the bouncer nudged my shoulder and pointed over to an older gentleman sitting past the bar, next to a cash register on a bar stool reading the post. I walked over and as I passed the bar not a single person noticed me, it made me worry that maybe I was not pretty enough to work here and they all knew it. As I got closer, I noticed that the man I was working towards looked a lot like Tony Soprano, but thinner and not so angry. I stood in front of him for a minute the music still blaring away as the song changed over to
push it ah push it push it real good
and a very tall black girl with wild curly long hair took over for the previous girl on the stage. The cashier nudged him and he looked up at me with a big smile and a grandfatherly face. So much for Tony Soprano.

"Hi!" I said, but stopped talking not knowing what to say next. Do you just tell him your name and say I’d like to be a stripper? But he spoke first;

"You want to try dancing?" I nodded.

"You’ve never done this before?" I shook my head no.

“You are nervous and scared and don’t know what to say?” I nodded yes again. He laughed.

“Ok what's your name?”

“Katherine” I said.

“Well, we have a Katherine so you’ll have to think of something else. You want to use a stage name anyways just in case your club life and your real life cross unexpectedly out in the real world. Let me tell you, I run a safe club here, nothing happens that you don’t want to, and there is money to made here from both regulars and the men in town on business that all want to come to a strip club since they listen to Howard Stern on their morning commute back home. Weekends a lot of kids drive in from the tri-state area to raise hell and look at pretty girls from the big city. Most of the ropes you’ll learn as you go, the other girls will give you all the guidance you need, and we have a house mother, he helps too.”

"He?" I said.

“Yes our house mother is a part time drag queen from the village. He also does hair and makeup if you like. So here is the drill, I can see you are a pretty girl, and you look like a good size, even though we take all types here since guys like all types. A trial is like this, you work one night on stage and doing some table dances if you like for an hour or so, no champagne room until you are ready, and then you decide. Some girls work one night, take the money and we never see them again. Others realize they like it and came back again. If you want to work here and we like what you do then there is a schedule and we stick to it. No requests, unless you are sick, then I do not want you here but you have to work for me another shift that I say. You start on days and weekends, and we go from there. Ok? I am sure you don't have any outfits, costumes or work clothes, so tonight bring in your special bra and panties and work in that. Most girls have something they have bought to wear for a boyfriend. Are you married? Or have a serious boyfriend?”

"No" I answered.

"Good that never works out too well, ok so come back tonight at five, that will give you enough time to do hair and makeup and be on stage at 7. Sound good?"

"Um yes" I said but I had a million questions about everything and as if he knew this was exactly how I felt he said "Why don't you go into the locker room before you leave, ask the girls some questions so you feel ready to come back. See you at 5." and he went back to his paper.

 

I stood there for a minute, and turned to walk back where I came from. Right before the curtains, I saw a black door with a brass plate that said locker room. I pushed and went in. It was empty and nothing like I thought; just a kind of run down bathroom with lockers on each side, a large mirror with a barber type chair in front of it and three stalls to the right and a shower at the end. I stood there a minute but there was no one to ask anything so as I was about to walk out when the black girl I had seen on stage walked in and ripped of her wig. I stood and stared. She was wearing thigh high black shiny boots hot pink satin booty shorts and nothing else. Her large tits were sitting straight up and her nipples were huge and seemed to have a life of their own. I had never seen any so large and dark, it took me a minute to realize she was talking to me, "I don't like girls fyi." she said at me, “but you can touch them if you want.”

OMG. I have to answer "I don't either" I stated.

“Well the way you are looking at my tits like a hungry baby say otherwise...are you sure?"

I blushed so red I could feel the flush in my chest. "I’m sorry I just have never seen anything like them.

"You mean black ones?"

“No just well, sorry, um, really I like guys"

"Ok whatever you say."

During this conversation she began to look through her phone but she had already taken off her booty shorts and she was standing there naked except for the black thigh high boots, her black curly bush trimmed really close and shaved into the shape of a $ sign with a little bit of green dye on the ends. She looked incredibly confident and sexy. I wanted to be her. Then she took her money out of her boots and I REALLY wanted to be her. She counted out $75 dollars.

“Is that what you made today?” I asked.

“HA! No I’d quit if that was all I made, I just made this my last song on stage.”

My head did quick calculations. I have to do this.

“Can I ask you a few questions?” I said.

She said, “ Sorry love but I have a regular waiting to take me in the champagne room and he has to get back to work for a 4 o’clock meeting. Maybe later? You’ll be here at 5 right ?”

How did she know? I guess this was the routine for new girls.

“Yeah” I replied.

“Well me and others will be here. However, let me tell you this it is a good place as far as strip clubs go, safe, and fair. The customers are pretty decent and the perverts let you know they are so you can decide if you want to fuck with them or not, and they don’t get mad if you say no. Rules are simple, and I say give it a go.” During her little speech she had put on another wig but this was a wilder afro with red glitter sprayed in it, and a skin tight red vinyl dress with a red sequin g string and matching red glitter pumps about 5 or 6 inches high. She then grabbed a little basket with a stuffed dog in it. I must have gaped because she said "He likes my ghetto Dorothy routine" I nodded as if I understood. She walked out. I knew I was coming back at 5. But what the fuck was I going to bring to wear?

 

I ran back to my sublet and started throwing things in a bag. Hair curler, crimper, straightener, and I raided my host’s bathroom for makeup but she didn’t have much. Between hers and mine I threw it all in the bag. Next something to wear, I have nothing. Shit. I have not had a date since I moved here and so no need to get anything special for anyone. I wish I had had a date, I was getting a little itchy to be touched and kissed and rubbed. Not now, gotta think about getting ready. I riffled through some of the bins in the closet that she had left full of clothes in order to make room for my stuff. JACKPOT! I found some silky slinky victoria’s secret stuff with the tags still on, never worn. I threw them all in and hopped in the shower for a very close shave. I shaved my legs all the way up to my thighs, and worked on making my wild bikini bush go down a little bit, I got close since it hadn’t been waxed in months. I worked mainly on the sides and then ran out of shave gel and my blade had dulled. This was a skill I would need to master. No nicks, though so I was satisfied. I slathered my body in baby oil and walked around the house naked while it melted into my skin. Then I realized one thing…..I don’t know what to do on stage. How do you dance? It’s different from club or bar dancing. So I went to the long mirror in the hall and started to move, but it felt funny so I went into the closet bins again looking for good shoes and found a nice pair of black patent leather platform pumps. I put them on, still naked, and went back to the mirror. I could not believe how the shoes made my thighs pop out long and lean, my nice thin legs looked endless from my slim ankle straight up to my freshly shaved flesh. It was like a light shining on them that shot up my slight waist and toned stomach to my full c cup breasts that were pert and lifted high, ready for their close up. I arched my back a little and jutted out my hips to the side, held my head high and looked at myself and practiced seductive and knowing smiles. I raised my hand behind me like it was holding a brass pole and pretended to stand in front of it and twirl around. I watched my body move and glisten from the baby oil and as l turned and twirled I rubbed my other hand up and down my body, I cupped my breasts and gently flicked my nipples to make them stand erect. I liked what I saw. I looked pretty good. In fact, I felt pretty good. I felt sexy and the more turns and sly smiles I gave myself in the mirror I realized I was turning my self on. I can do this. Yeah I smiled this was going to work out great tonight. I just needed a name…..hhmmmm…how does one come up with a stripper name?

 

I got back to the club at 4:45 pm and walked in like a regular. Same doorman as earlier, but this time he gave me a wry little smile and said, “good luck miss.” The cashier must have heard him because she never looked up from her people magazine this time. I sauntered down the hall towards the black velvet curtains, lights still flashing underneath but this time I heard baby got back blasting and wondered if the black girl from earlier was on stage, I entered, looked to the right and there she was in a neon yellow vinyl shiny g-string with no bra and her huge nipples out for all to see, this time she was wearing a long blonde wig that glowed platinum under the stage lights. She had her ass backed up to the end of the stage and was knee bent twerking her ass into the face of the oldest crotchety meanest looking bank manager type white man I have ever seen. And he was eating it up, loving it all and tossing twenty-dollar bills at her clear plastic platform feet. I wondered if this was her ghetto Dorothy customer, late for his 4 o’clock meeting. I walked over to “the manager” he was still sitting next to the cashier reading the paper and drinking a Starbucks. I walked over a bit more confident this time and he saw me and smiled.

BOOK: The Beginning
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