Portions of this story are true although sadly not all of it. I will leave it up to the reader to choose which aspects of it that they want to believe as fact.

 

New Job

by Teresa Ann Wood

 

Admittedly, not my finest hour. I fell asleep at work and was fired. I don't necessarily feel like it was completely my fault due to certain circumstances but it happened, so there I was out of work, my lease was up, and I had no money whatsoever. I was in pretty bad shape. Naturally I called my mom.

Mom jumped on the hometown hotline, that's what we used to call her and all her friends and relatives back home in our small hometown in Ohio, and canvassed everyone she knew for immediate job openings. As a kid that hotline was used to spread nothing but gossip but this time it worked out for me. It seemed that my uncle Sal had a job for me.

Uncle Sal was an entrepreneur and was always dabbling in business. He'd buy all or part of a small business, keep it awhile, then sell and move on. Usually he'd make money off of the deal. The heart of his investment capitol was a liquor store in Cincinnati that he'd inherited from his father-in-law. He told mom he needed to hire a cashier for a small Mom and Pop grocery he'd bought, but in reality he wanted me to work at his liquor store. He knew better than tell my mom where I'd really be working.

So Sal sent me a bus ticket and I cleaned out my few belongings for the three-hour trip from the college town I'd been living in after dropping out of school. I sold anything I couldn't carry in my suitcase and left for the big Cincy.

Sal is a smart man and even though he's not widely loved by the community he's always been good to his family. He figured that I didn't just need a new job but a whole new start on life. Knowing that nineteen year olds are prone to prefer certain activities to others, he set me up with a job in his liquor store and arranged for me to have an apartment nearby.

Now I said the liquor store was in Cincy but it's not really. It's actually just across the river in northern Kentucky but if it wasn't for the bridges you'd never know it. If you ever find yourself in Cincy and want to see strippers, buy booze, and generally find the sort of activities one would normally associate with those types of things, that's where you go. Sal had set me up in heart of it all.

First of all he gave me the day shift at the liquor store. That was really good of him. Then he took me three doors down from his "Packaged Whiskey, Beer, and Spirits 2 Go" to show me an old, old house that had at some point been converted into a strip club. The house had supposedly been standing there since well before the Civil War but was well maintained. It was also huge and Sal took me around to the back to show me a set of old wooden stairs that led up to three small apartments. The one on the left was mine.

So life picked up a little for me. The apartment wasn't great but it was clean and neat, the former occupant had been an older man who had lived there for decades, or so I was told. My next-door neighbor was a middle-income prostitute who made her living off of the guys frustrated by the strippers downstairs. She was nice and we occasionally had dinner together, although I never availed myself of her professional charms. My job didn't pay great but Sal took care of my rent and utilities so it seemed like a lot more.

I had lived in my apartment for about three months and had begun to get into a routine. The strip club down stairs was too expensive for me although Sal took me as his guest a couple of times. The girls were incredible, beautiful and my first lap dance gave me the greatest orgasm of my life right there on the couch. I passed the girls coming to work so often that some of them eventually came to know me by name, or at least well enough to nod and say 'hi'. Did I mention the bouncers? I think they were all former NFL linemen; at least they had enough size to have been. Nice guys, but very serious about protecting the girls.

My apartment was ok, if a little old. It was kind of surprising that some old man had chosen to live there for so many years, what with the noise and lack of insulation in the walls. I was still proud of it as I had dreams of sexual conquests with the strippers from downstairs.

So one night I finished my dinner of canned chicken and dumplings and was considering what to watch on TV. I went into my bedroom to find the newspaper listings when I thought I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. There near the foot of my bed. I got down on my hands and knees, looking around carefully to see if it had been a rat or a mouse but saw nothing. I was looking right at the wall when it moved again.

Curious I crawled over to the 70's era wood paneling and placed my hand against it. With little effort from me it slid upwards slightly, the bottom panel moving up behind the one above. The panel hadn't been closed properly and anyone slamming a door downstairs made it shake. A glint of light to my left turned out to be a flashlight, which I used to explore the area behind my bedroom wall. I felt like I was on an adventure!

The opening in the paneling gave me access to an area about five feet wide. I knew the wall to be an outside wall, the only one in my apartment except for the one by the front door, and had wondered why there were no windows. It took me only a few moments to figure out that a second wall had long ago been built inside the outer wall to hide an ancient fireplace. I suppose it was cheaper at the time than removing it. I could see the chimney off to my left. To my right I found a more interesting item.

My little loft must have originally been part of the attic of the home and so it had a floor. However someone had in the past removed a few boards to allow access to the area within the wall of the floor below me. I shined my light down the hole and found a series of two by fours nailed to the wall joists to form a serviceable ladder. Cautiously I lowered myself down the ladder, all the time watching for signs of mice or rats. All I saw was a chair and a couple of cardboard boxes.

The area I had found on the ground floor was much bigger than the little alcove above. Still approximately five feet wide this area ran the length of the building and there, not ten feet away from the foot of the ladder, I could see a small point of light coming from the interior wall at about waist level. The music blaring from the strip club would easily drown out any noise I was making, so I nervously stepped over to the light, bent at the waist, and peeked through.

Bonanza! I almost shouted it, I swear. The hole was perfectly located to allow the viewer a perfect perspective to view the dressing room of the strippers. Even as I watched a brunette named Wanda was sitting in a chair, trimming her pubic hair. Her legs were spread wide open and I could see her pussy as clear as day, except she was a good ten feet away. She was beautiful, but not the best that worked there by far. This was fantastic!

Well at least I now knew why the old man had kept the old apartment for so long. The chair I had found was the perfect height for me to sit in and comfortably look through the hole. On the nearby wall supports I found a bottle of hand lotion and a box of tissues. It didn't take me long to begin masturbating, and I quickly fouled my first tissue. I knew I would be down here a lot.

The next few weeks were busy ones for me. I worked and spent the rest of my time in the 'hole' as I came to call it. Unaccountably I began to get bored with it much quicker than I thought that I would. One night I had found nothing much of interest going on in the dressing room and thought to investigate the rotted cardboard boxes shoved in the back of my hole. One contained tissues used by the Hole's former tenant. I almost barfed on that one. The other box contained a much more surprising find.

Underwear. Girl's underwear. And not just panties, but the sexy kind of lingerie the strippers wore. I took the boxes back up to my room where the light was better and used a stick to sort through the underwear without touching anything. It became quickly apparent that the room's former occupant had been masturbating into the underwear, if not wearing it himself at the time. I took both boxes out to the barrel out back and burned them, and then I took a dozen showers.

It was a couple of days later that I began to wonder just how the old man had acquired that box of underwear. The next time I had the opportunity to better explore the hole I used the flashlight to closely inspect the walls on the ground floor. I suspected that whatever the old man had done to the walls upstairs, he might very well have done to the ones down here. Finding a suspicious looking spot I congratulated myself on being smart and then went back upstairs to go to bed. I'd have to wait until the early morning to test my theory completely.

I set my alarm for 6am, figuring that since the strip club closed at 3am and the employees would need a good two hours to close up that I would be safe. I checked the parking lot, found no cars, and then went down to the spy hole and listened and watched for another twenty minutes. Relatively sure that the club was presently deserted, I went to the spot I had found the night before and carefully pushed on the wall paneling. Sure enough, it slid up just like the one upstairs.

Carefully I crept through the open panel, my ears piqued for the slightest breath of a sound. When nothing came to me I quietly tiptoed around the room and inspected every corner of the dressing room. It was kept relatively clean by the girls and it even had three showerheads around the corner that I couldn't see from my hidey-hole. I found nothing of real interest and returned to my hole with as large an erection as my miniature dick can manage. I jacked off in my room without bringing up any specific sexual images to my mind, just by using the excitement and adrenaline rush I had felt from the experience itself. I started doing that more often than I peeped through the Hole.

A few weeks after that discovery my birthday came around and again Uncle Sal treated me to a lap dance. This time the girl was a new employee, and blond who called herself 'Azure'. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

That next morning I again crept into the stripper's dressing room and found the very pair of panties that I had watched Azure remove before my eyes the night before. I found them lying on the floor under a chair, near a vanity the girls shared to put on their makeup. The panties were silky and sexy and to my overactive imagination still warm from her body. Without a real plan I took the panties, found me a new cardboard box, and stored them inside my Hole. That night I used Azure's panties to stroke my dick as I watched Azure undress from her street clothes. If she noticed their absence she never mentioned it where I could overhear.

Tragedy struck a few days later when Gwen, a beautiful redhead who had worked at the club for three or four years, died in an automobile accident. I was watching when the club's manager announced the bad news to the other girls. He then used his master key to open the padlock on Gwen's locker; each of the girls had their own to store things, and asked the strippers to please go through her stuff to return to her family. The girls were too distraught to do it that night but promised to do it the next night. They forgot to lock it back when they left.

The next morning I went through the locker and took several items I was sure wouldn't be missed. Mostly I took only clothing, although I did take a pair of high-heeled shoes. I'm certain no one ever knew the stuff had been gone through and I doubted that Gwen's family would have been all that keen to receive their just deceased daughter's crotch-less leather panties and matching break-a-way bra.

The winter months passed by as I slowly added to my collection in the hole. At one point I installed some metal rods in the hole so that I could hang up my growing collection of women's clothing on hangers. When I felt that the girls might be getting suspicious over the cause of missing articles of clothing, I would stop doing it for a while. Mostly the girls came and went pretty quickly, so I always had plenty of opportunities to acquire things. Many times the girls would quit over the phone and never bother to pick up their stuff. These were golden opportunities for me.

Stealing those clothes was wrong, I knew that, but it had become an obsession with me, I simply couldn't help myself. The thrill of sneaking into the club and stealing a woman's most intimate apparel was a rush I needed. I rarely if ever peeked at the girls themselves now; I was really just looking for the next piece of clothing I wanted for myself. Within my Hole I would sniff the underwear or rub it to my body to fuel my masturbation fantasies. Or at least that's how it started.

I remember vividly the night that things changed. It was the night of March 31^st and would soon be April Fool's Day. The club had a tradition where they would exchange girls with a strip club from Lexington for that night only and then slip in a few female impersonators as well. The idea was for the patrons to try and figure out who were female and who were the imposters. I think there was some sort of door prize to the first person that got it right. Anyway I was watching through the peephole as usual, laughing at the weirdo's I would soon see. Men trying to be women, what a laugh.

So in come that night's temporary 'talent' and I easily picked out the three guys from the seven girls. No way they could fool me. They dressed and went about their jobs and I went around to the club, they knew me and didn't card me, and made my guess for the door prize… and lost. In my defense no one else won it either because there was a fourth impersonator among the girls that no one suspected. When they announced that Patricia, easily the prettiest girl in the bunch, was a guy along with the other three I had spied through the peephole, I got really mad. I figured they were just lying to get out of giving me my prize. I left the club in a rush and made the round trip to my hole intending on looking at Patricia. I knew I couldn't do anything about it but I wanted to prove it to myself that there was no way Patricia was a guy.

Boy was I ever wrong.

It was about a week later that my constant thoughts of Patricia annoyed me to the point that I decided to try something myself. That night when I went to the hole I was naked, and I talked myself into trying on a pair of panties from my box for the first time.

What a feeling! I slid the silky panties up my legs and found my puny little erection doing its best to poke a hole through the front! I looked through the peephole and saw Teri just unpacking an overnight back and started cumming like mad when she accidentally dropped a pair of panties the same color as the ones I was wearing. I had barely touched myself!

Wow that felt great! After that I alternated between trying on some of the clothing I had gathered and feeling guilty for what I was doing. The pleasure eventually drowned out the guilt and by the end of May I spent most all of my free time in the Hole playing dress up. My fantasies slowly morphed from having sex with the beautiful girls on the other side of my Hole to being one of them. Sex was becoming less and less an issue as I found myself easily coming just by thinking about being a woman.

As time went on I found that my taste in clothing did differ from most of the girls in some regards.

The strippers from this club were not 'common' at all; they were top of the line beauties. As far as I know very few of them ever turned tricks on the side and none of them showed up to work dressed like a slut. They wore some really, really nice outfits. I came to appreciate seeing them fully dressed in a nice skirt and blouse more than I ever did seeing them naked. As disturbing as this was to me it was also undeniable. Eventually I found myself more and more often dressing as a woman than dressing like a stripper.

My successes to this point had convinced me to push the envelope a little more and so I began occasionally wearing panties under my guy clothes to work. Later it was panties and pantyhose. Finally I claimed to have a cold one day and also wore a bra under my jacket. I nearly passed out from the June heat but I still think of that day fondly.

Let me tell you about my job. The liquor store had been held up a few times so Uncle Sal had built a wall all around the cash register area with a thick, locked door. There was a window where the shoppers paid for what they wanted and that was the only way you could talk to the cashier. No taller than I was, the customers couldn't even see me below the chest. Cameras were mounted all over the store to prevent shoplifting. Sal figured it was better to lose a little product now and again than to lose the money from the cash register. From inside the cashier's box we could see the whole store through the cameras and easily summon the police if trouble should appear. With the thick door and bulletproof glass we would be safe until help arrived.

My job was to come in early and open up. Then I would run the cash register until the Manager arrived. Once he was there I would restock the shelves and then return to the locked cashier's box until the end of my shift. The manager only got one day off a week, and that was Thursday. On that day I came in early and restocked while the store was closed then locked myself in the cashier's box the rest of the day. One Wednesday afternoon while choosing my female outfit for that evening I had an idea that both turned me on and frightened me to death!

The next morning I left for work even earlier than usual, taking along my old school backpack. Inside the backpack I had packed some feminine clothing consisting of a knee-length skirt, a half-slip, and high heels. Under my male clothing I wore panties, pantyhose, and a bra. My button up shirt was in reality a blouse with the buttons on the wrong side and everything. It looked enough like a regular men's shirt that I wasn't concerned about anyone noticing.

When I arrived at the store I hurriedly did my restocking, unlocked the door, and dashed into my booth. Once inside I removed my shoes, socks, and pants. I had to wait on a couple of early customers standing there in my blouse, panties, and pantyhose but they didn't have a clue. After they left I hurriedly tugged on my half-slip, high heels, and tight skirt and worked the next several hours fully dressed as a woman. It was so wonderful! No one had a clue and I was barely able to contain my joy when people would say 'You look like you're having a good day'. If they had only known!

An hour before the evening shift was to come in I removed my skirt, slip, heels, and just to be safe, my bra, before putting my jeans and socks back on. I almost hated to go home but when I did I replaced my outfit of the day and masturbated myself raw. The next Thursday was even better because I had acquired a thin sheaf dress that looked for all the world like a man's dress shirt from the upper chest on up. That time I brought a full slip as well and worked that entire day in a dress. I brought a mirror along just for fun.

By the middle of August I was hooked on my new lifestyle and didn't bother with guilty feelings any more. Using a computer at the library I ordered myself a wig and a set of very realistic breast forms as a birthday present for myself. That wiped out my savings but I didn't mind one bit. When my uncle took me out for my twenty-first birthday it marked the first time in months that I wore men's underwear. I was afraid he'd buy me a blowjob or something and catch a glimpse of my panties. Thankfully that didn't happen.

But my escapades on Thursdays had whetted my appetite for wearing my new clothes somewhere other than my Hole. Wearing a dress was wonderful but doing it somewhere else besides a ten by six box half filled with cigarettes had to be even better. I racked my brain trying to think of somewhere new I could dress without being caught when the answer came to me; it had been right there in front of me the whole time. Or rather, right there under me.

I could dress in the club itself! It may have seemed obvious to you but it hadn't to me. To date I had only walked around in the dressing room, practicing my makeup in front of the vanity but I didn't dare leave that room knowing that Buddy kept cameras on in the rest of the club.

The next opportunity I got ready early that morning, shaving my legs was a daily ritual by this time and I had very little body hair, and entered the dressing room as I had so many times before. Scared to death I opened the door and darted across the hall to the manager's office where I turned off the recorder. Next I ran the recorder back about five minutes and tapped over my dash from the dressing room into the office, then turned the recorder off again. Finally I went exploring.

It felt great to use the women's bathroom where I had to lift my skirt and sit to pee just like a real woman. I sat in all the chairs, danced around the floor. I even sat at the bar and pretended that people were looking at me, talking about what a beautiful sexy woman I was. Finally I set the timer on the recorder to come on five minutes later, I knew that the manager, a big chubby guy named 'Buddy', had no clue how to use it, he just turned it on or off as needed, and fled to the dressing room.

I began to do that nearly every morning, often entering the club as the last employee was leaving. I pretended that I was one of the employees and was charged with closing that night. I pretended to be a waitress, and slapped the hands of the customers when they groped at my barely-covered ass. Eventually I tried on some of the strippers 'working' clothing and began to dance on the stages. I even practiced a couple of simple stripping routines. It was wonderful.

Then around the first of September the manager of the strip club started advertising a once-a-month ladies night where male strippers would perform. This really bothered me for some reason and I made sure that I wasn't home that night. When it came around in October I had convinced myself not to be so foolish. I knew that I wasn't gay and had nothing to be afraid of.

I even convinced myself that I wouldn't dress up that night, but I was fooling myself. My emotions were so confused that I decided that I had to prove to myself that I was not interested in other men. When the male strippers began arriving in the dressing room that evening, I was dressed to the nines and watching through my peephole. I did fine, mostly just feeling a little foolish for my actions, when one particular guy came in.

He was drop-dead gorgeous! Seriously, nobody, not even the most heterosexual man you've ever known would have said that this guy was anything but good looking. He was well built, tall, strong, and had shoulder length dirty blond hair. He moved directly to the bench across from my peephole and without any ceremony whatsoever he kicked off his flip-flops and stripped his blue jeans down to his ankles. No underwear, just a thick, soft cock hanging down between his legs.

I suppose he must have been cramped in those jeans with no underwear to prevent chaffing, so when he took a few seconds to stroke his cock and balls a little I didn't even have the chance to reach for a tissue but instead blew my load directly into my favorite pair of panties.

His body was absolutely perfect! I watched him get dressed in some outfit, I can't remember what it was exactly, and stroked myself to oblivion again as I did so. When he returned from his first set on the floor, naked except for a g-string and carrying his clothes to put back on, I came a third time. Late that night I jacked off again while thinking of him and then cried myself to sleep. No way could I pretend that I was not interested in men. I was interested in at least that one.

My fantasies changed drastically after that. I came to think about 'my' male stripper daily. I found out from one of the bouncers from the club that his name was Dan. When he returned for the November ladies night I was dressed and ready for him within the Hole. He didn't make a single move in that dressing room that I didn't watch it. How I had wished that I owned a video camera. When he left that night I found a sock he had lost and took it to bed with me every night for weeks, holding it and crying late at night. I was so pathetic.

Knowing that I wanted more I began to plan for the December ladies night immediately after the November one. I practiced on my makeup every night and even bought a few new items of clothing myself, such as new stockings and a bra that actually fit me. I had a dress that I knew was basically new and used it as the starting point to gather for myself the perfect outfit. I bought myself a pair of sunglasses and used the copier and other office supplies at my Uncle Sal's printing shop to make myself a fake ID. My uncle's other employees thought it was for me but the picture I put in the ID was one of me dressed as my feminine alter ego.

Gathering my courage, I practiced my feminine mannerisms more determinedly than ever and began slipping out of my apartment late at night for short walks as Kristen, which was the name I had chosen over my normal Chris. I passed a dozen or so people on my walks with no one calling the police, so I got a little more daring as time went by.

A week before the December ladies night I went out in public before the sun was completely down. I walked to the store on the corner and bought a newspaper from the box outside. I was wearing a full length coat, my sunglasses and of course my wig. I hoped I was wearing the proper amount of makeup. The only other things visible were my heels and an inch or two of pantyhose. On the way back I passed my next-door neighbor and when she looked right at me without recognizing me, I decided I had passed the test.

After arranging for a vacation day for the day before and the day after the next ladies night, I took the opportunity to remove all my body hair save for a burr haircut on my head. I figured I could easily explain that to my mom at Christmas.

When the big night arrived I watched from secret room until my man had arrived and finished getting ready for his night's work. With my new gaff in place (damn mail order, it barely arrived in time) I finished my own preparations before walking around to the front of the club and nervously presenting my fake id.

I was never so scared in all my life, but I was beginning to understand that I secretly liked that feeling. The relief was unbelievable when the bouncer at the door barely glanced at it before waving me through.

My heart was trying desperately to explode out of my chest. Here I was in public, in a strip club no less, dressed completely as a woman from the pink of my panties to the little lace flower in the center of my bra. True my dress was hidden behind a coat I doubt that I'd dare to remove but my freshly shaved legs in their tan stockings were visible and so far I was being accepted as a woman! No one had recognized me as either Chris or a man! My knees felt weak from the emotions and I made a beeline for the ladies rest room.

Even using the ladies bathroom felt great. My gaff had started out feeling quite comfortable but now it struggled mightily to maintain my threatening erections.

When I finally built up enough courage to come out of the bathroom I very nearly bumped into Dan coming out of the dressing room. He was dressed like a half-naked cowboy in leather chaps and vest, and I simply stopped to enjoy the sight of him. He looked at me, breaking out in beautiful smile that nearly caused me to swoon. I'd never seen him smile before.

I followed behind him, enjoying the view of his ass through the nearly non-existent thong he was wearing. When he immediately climbed onto the main stage I took I seat well back from the edge but I was still closer than I'd ever been when peeking through my Hole.

And then he danced. Oh my, how that man danced. He was so perfect, so beautiful, and barely allowed us poor women a glimpse of his awesome manhood. A middle-aged woman in the very front held up a twenty and Dan pulled down the front of his leather thong to allow her to tuck it inside, giving us just a peek of the base of his cock. Girls moaned in appreciation all over the club.

For his next show I was nearly in the front row. For his fourth and last show I had taken off my coat, to hell with anybody recognizing me, and was leaning against the stage with a fistful of ones and fives. He earned every one of them too. I even thought I saw him taking a peak at my cleavage! For my last two bucks he held open his costume for me, and only me, so that I could see his whole cock! It was soft but oh so perfectly wonderful to see.

Some of the other models had shows yet to do but since Dan was done, I was done, and I hurried out of the club and around to my apartment. Once there I tossed my coat onto the bed and hurried down to my Hole. I wanted to watch Dan change clothes. As he was the first one to finish he'd be alone and I could concentrate all my attention on his gorgeous body.

And there he was, stripping off the leather cod-piece/g-string/thong looking thing he'd been wearing. His regular clothes were already laying out ready to be put on but to my delight Dan chose to take a shower before dressing. I watched the muscles of his sweet ass bunch and relax as he walked around the corner to the shower. I couldn't wait for him to come back, because then I'd get to see his wet cock as he walked towards me.

My skirt was up, my tiny clit in hand when my Dan came back around the corner. I blasted a large load of sperm onto the wall below my peephole when I saw that his cock was half hard. I didn't have a hand free to grab a tissue at that moment, and I was beyond caring anyway.

Then I saw something I thought I'd never see. When Dan returned to his little dressing alcove, which was right in my line of sight, he looked carefully around to see if he was alone. Reassured that he was, he took advantage of his privacy to stroke himself a few times, quickly bringing his cock to full erection. I thought I would cry with delight! He just kept getting more and more beautiful!

My concerns about being gay were completely out of my mind at this point. I wanted that man, in my hand and in my mouth. How I wished that I was a woman right then, with a proper place for that man to install his hard cock into my body.

Unfortunately he didn't masturbate, just gave himself a few strokes before continuing to get dressed. All that attention from so many women must have made him horny. He put on his underwear (briefs), faded blue jeans and a t-shirt. Then he slid on some ankle-length socks and a pair of Reeboks. After packing up his stuff he left the dressing room to go home. I was nearly devastated with the loss. How would I ever survive until next month?

Then I noticed his g-string; he'd dropped it and it still lay on the floor under the bench he'd been sitting on!

What can I say? I was a goner by that point any way. I didn't even hesitate. I ignored the risks of being caught and literally ran to the sliding panel, squirmed through, and leaped onto my prize! I grabbed the little leather garment and brought it directly to my face, inserting my mouth and nose into the pouch that had held his cock and balls all evening. I inhaled his aroma and had just turned to climb back through the panel only to find that it had slid shut behind me.

No problem, it had done that before. I'd just lift it up, climb through, and then I'd take my prize back to my apartment with me. I'd put on my sexiest negligee and grab the largest carrot from my refrigerator and go to bed and pretend to be sucking Dan's cock. It was going to be great and I couldn't wait.

I nearly died when the door opened behind me.

"Excuse me miss," came the confused voice. I turned slowly around; the color in my face must have been as bright a red as it was possible for it to be. There stood Dan, and he recognized me from the show, I could see it in his eyes.

"How did you get in here?" he asked, smiling when his eyes noticed the garment clutched in my hands. "You must have been in the ladies room, huh? And slipped in here just after I left?"

What could I do? I nodded, afraid to test my voice in such an intimate situation. Better that he think that then begin to suspect I had my own private entrance. Dan wasn't about to leave it at that though.

"I remember you from the show tonight. You were the shy one. Took you three shows before you loosened up enough to enjoy it!"

"Again I only nodded. I wouldn't dare argue with him to explain that I had enjoyed every second of all the shows to the very bottom of my soul.

Dan approached me, reaching out to take his g-string pouch thing from my hands. He looked inside and noticed the smear of my lipstick inside the pouch. Smiling even broader he handed them back to me.

"Here, they obviously mean more to you than me."

"I smiled like an idiot, I know I did, but the man just made me so happy."

"You know, you were the most beautiful woman in the club tonight… would you mind if I asked your name?"

My smile just got bigger and bigger. "Kristen" I whispered as 'womanly' as I could. He didn't seem to notice anything masculine about my voice at all.

"Kristen, huh? Beautiful name for a beautiful woman," he continued, really pouring on the charm. I was drinking it up.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"You really turned me on out there, I wanted you bad by the time you ran out of money," he joked, pulling a wad of cash from his pocket. Most of it had been mine a few hours ago."

I couldn't say anything. Did he just tell me I was beautiful? That I made HIM horny? Surely he wasn't serious, or was he just trying to appease the crazy woman he just caught stealing and sniffing his underwear?

"You know, this job of mine has a lot of drawbacks, one being that I often leave work so horny I can't stand."

I said nothing, just staring at my hands and feet, too embarrassed to even look up at him.

"I could pick up some middle aged house wife for a quickie, but that's just not my style," Dan continued. "I prefer someone young and beautiful, someone brave enough to come to a strip club on ladies night all by herself. Someone brave enough to sneak into the dressing room just to find herself a souvenir. Someone like you, you're my type."

I was visibly trembling now, but I did manage to drag my eyes up from the floor and directly to his crotch.

He kept on talking, thank goodness. I couldn't have forced a word from my lips for a million dollars.

"Normally I'm not this forward, but I think you're as attracted to me as I am to you. Would you be offended if I asked for a favor?"

I shook my head no, still staring at the growing bulge in his jeans.

"Well I would be very much appreciative if you would be so kind as to help me with my little problem here," he said, patting his cock with one hand. "It's really only fair because, after all, you're what caused it."

I caused him to have an erection? I must be dead. This couldn't happen in real life. My fantasies weren't even this good. I stood mesmerized as he accepted my silence as agreement and began to slowly unzip and then lower his pants. After letting his jeans fall he stood up and allowed me to enjoy the view for a moment, not offering to do any more until I participated. His briefs were all that now stood between me and my fantasy.

I was living in a dream as I dropped to my knees before that perfect physical specimen. His cock had grown huge, bulging out from his underwear in anticipation of my attention. My little hand, so feminine with its long nails and pink polish, gently squeezed the bulge and was delighted to feel it growing even larger under my touch. His underwear began to tent as his lengthening cock 'leaned' away from his body and began to grow towards me. Unable to resist I rose up on my knees and peeked through the widening gap between waist and elastic band, groaning at the sight of his thickening dick.

Suddenly aware of our precarious position, someone could walk in and catch us at any time; I grabbed his underwear at each side of his waist and swiftly pulled them down. His cock bobbed at the movement, its single eye glaring at me in challenge.

I took his cock firmly in my right hand, thoroughly enjoying his groan of appreciation. I inspected him for a moment before looking up to catch his eye. My tongue extended out to touch the head of his cock where I gave him one soft, gentle lick. Then my reserves faded completely as my tongue went mad, licking up and down his lollipop. The texture of his skin was wonderful, soft skin over rock-hard cock. I ran my tongue over every inch of him, even stopping to pay some attention to his balls occasionally. My free hand traveled over the thick muscles of his chest and abs. I tasted his precum and found it sweet, yet salty, and undeniably delicious. I waited until his cock had grown to its peak, straining and stretching in his desire, before I placed the head only into my warm, wet mouth.

I will freely admit my lack of experience in sexual matters so I will only say that I was acting on pure impulse, doing more what I wanted to do to Dan rather than what I thought might feel good to him. Either way he wasn't complaining as our eyes met and I began to nurse on his cockhead like a baby on a bottle.

His precum just tasted so good! I still gripped his shaft at the very base, keeping up a constant squeeze in an effort to hold back the tide of his sperm even as I gave his cockhead a serious tongue bath between gentle sucks. It was wonderful! I licked and sucked him as he panted and groaned, trying in vane to convince me to take more of him into my mouth. I was keenly aware of ever stitch of feminine clothing I was wearing as I serviced my man's cock, but I still had not taken my eyes from his when I finally conceded to his wishes and began to slide my lips further and further down his stiff tool.

Each wet slide of my mouth onto his straining cock brought a deeper and more animalistic groan from Dan. His cock pushed deeper into my mouth and then my throat before my lips met my hand. I wanted to take more but knew that I couldn't without gagging and ruining the moment, so I used that point as my baseline and set about sucking my man to his completion. In the future, if I ever had a second chance to be with Dan, I vowed to take every sweet inch of his glorious meat into my throat, but for now this would have to do.

Not that what I was doing wasn't fantastic! I was having the best sexual experience of my life and no one had yet touched me in any way! I started up a slow, steady rhythm as I worked my lips up and down his hard shaft, my tongue working overtime to tease and provoke my lover's most sensitive spots. Dan began to help me, pumping his hips in time to each bob of my head as he lovingly cupped my face to help steady me.

As my lover's passion was building so was my own. I finally had to release his cock, something I dearly did not want to do, so that I could increase the speed of my blowjob. I wrapped my arms about Dan's waist and grabbed his fine ass as he began to fuck my face in earnest. I maintained a steady vacuum on his cock, sneaking in a lick as was possible, even as he drove himself into me over and over again.

His moans told me he was close so I slowed my strokes, ensuring that he felt every bit of my moist tongue and hot, hungry mouth on him. When I felt his cock begin to twitch I again changed my rhythm to slightly shorter strokes so as to have a better chance of catching his initial spurt of semen on my tongue rather than waste it down my throat. There was no way I wanted to miss out on even one drop of what this man had to give me. Even as I felt that first burst of cum flood my mouth I answered with one of my own even through the gaff that held me prisoner. The agony from my groin was as nothing to the pure bliss that racked my body as I drank hungrily from Dan's rigid cock.

I'm not going to pretend that I swallowed every drop without choking, but I did pretty well. I licked Dan clean too, for I knew I was addicted to the taste of his cum. After Dan had dressed and allowed me the chance to freshen my makeup, he gave me his phone number and made me promise to come see him again next month on ladies night. I agreed, still talking as little as possible. I didn't care at all when the other male strippers came into the dressing room to change, each of them leering openly at the 'slut' they saw talking to Dan. They knew that he'd gotten lucky with, as Dan put it, "the most beautiful woman in the club tonight". I giggled so much!

Being a gentlemen Dan insisted that he walk me to my car, holding me tightly as we walked since I had 'forgotten' my coat. I chose a car at random and was happy that it wasn't locked, and there he kissed me goodbye even as he fondled my ass and breasts. I got in the car and waited for him to return to the club before getting back out and hurrying around to my apartment.

Dan and I dated each month when he came to my town for almost a year, and then I never heard from him again. I still long for the nights spent servicing Dan and his magnificent cock. I know that he used me for blowjobs and I just want to say that I am so very, very thankful that he did. I still love you, Dan, wherever you are.

  

  

  

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