My name is Samantha. I am 21 and I attend college in Washington DC. I work as a bartender in a strip joint to help pay for my tuition and support myself. The work is easy, the money even more. A lot of men and you would be surprised also how many women also get turned on by watching strippers disrobe and they pay generously for a few minutes of strong emotions. Each stripper gets about 15 minutes of fame on stage, the time for 3 songs she chooses to go from fully dressed to nothing more than a flimsy G-string. Mind you the dress is designed to slip easily, and doesn’t cover much either. Once almost naked she uses the dance pole to reveal her most intimate curves. That usually brings her to about half way through her routine. She then has about 7 or 8 minutes to work her admirers for tips. That’s when she makes her money. The club doesn’t pay her a salary. I bet you didn’t know that. She pays the club a management fee. So each girl has her special way of enticing patrons’ largesse. Take Sky for instance. She goes for the blustery man at the center of attention of his group of friends. She cups her breasts and gets another girl to pour a glass of champagne between them into his waiting mouth, while his friends cheer him on. Well, what do you think that buccaneer pays for this? Chloe goes for the lonely, tough looking type who pretends he is not interested in what is going on. He usually is sitting on the edge of the dancing floor smoking a cigarillo which he holds as if it were the tip of a woman’s breast. She descends from the pole and roles over her naked body bathed by the floodlights towards her prey. She wraps her slender long legs around our tough guy’s neck. Temptation always gets the best of the best of them. Chloe plays perfectly her part in his fantasy. She plays the part of the stripper who her own challenge to seduce him even though he is unflinching like steel. With her legs on his shoulders she inches her way till her crotch is a millimetre from his mouth. Then resting on her elbows she whispers in a hot throaty voice: “how would you like to run your cock up and down the slit of my waiting cunt and back in the crack of my ass?” Then she flips over and spreads the cheeks of her ass where he inserts his folded bill. She thanks him by giving him a kiss on the lips, retrieves the money and sashays her way across the dance floor dragging her dress. Daniela works her little play with her “boyfriend” Lucky the DJ when he is on a break. There are few variations. The version I like the best is when Lucky the “DJ-boyfriend” picks in the crowd the guy whose eyes are most ready to pop and sits next to him. They strike a friendly conversation, usually about how sexy Daniela looks and how hot she must be in bed. That’s when Lucky shares in confidence that Daniela is his girl, and how he fucks her and makes her moan. The guy is always a bit rattled. “Gee I didn’t know… No offense, I didn’t mean to…” “Hey no sweat man! I don’t mind.” Somehow Lucky acquires the aura of a legendary hero. There are actually real flesh and blood men who get to have theses unattainable divine divas and can do all the things they can only fantasize! “And you don’t mind your girl dancing before all these guys?’ “Noo man! I like it that all these guys would kill to have her.” It’s a big turn on for customers to sit next to the guy who actually gets to touch these divine bodies. Daniela draws on all four closer to them. She gets down from the stage, removes her g-string and entirely naked she gives the customer an unbelievable lap dance, all the while fixing her eyes on her “boyfriend” like “So whatcha gonnado about it.” The crowds are usually dead silent watching this drama unfold: a completely naked gorgeous girl who looks just like the girl next door they fantasized about as teenagers sharing her body with this stranger in front of her boyfriend. She takes hold of one of her boyfriend’s hands and one of her customer’s and runs them barely touching her hot skin up and down the whole length of her body, all the while staring in to her boyfriend’s eyes. The music stops they both break into laughter: “did you enjoy that hon?” she asks addressing both. She picks the money from the paralyzed customer’s hand and walks up on stage to the back exit without bothering to cover her naked body. Strip clubs have some house rules. When a girl takes you to the VIP lounge as she closes the door and gets ready she tells you what you can and can’t do. “Now you touch my privates and my boys will pick you and throw you out in a heartbeat. I will pick your hands and let you touch me. If you get hard I’ll jerk you off with the crack of my ass until you cum. So let’s get started and have some fun.” Otherwise strippers’ private lives are as ordinary as yours and mine. Not at all the sizzling sexy life you imagine them to have also off stage. Strip clubs and real life are in two different galaxies. The girls go home at night slip into a hot bath and just want to relax a bit before turning in. Some have boyfriends with whom they have regular sex. Some are actually lesbians who find gratification in the embraces of their girlfriends. And others live alone, and well I’ll let you guess how they work off their sexual tensions after whole evenings of uninterrupted foreplay on stage with these horny hot guys all around them. One thing though I can tell you. They look after their body well. They work out regularly. Not one ounce of extra fat. Their inner thighs are always perfectly shaved. I can tell you for certain most of them shave their pubic hair clean while in the shower before coming to work, just like you guys shave every morning. I know what you want me to tell you. Well I suppose some masturbate sometime while their hands are down there spreading around the shaving cream lathering their cunt. Don’t we all once in a while? Me? I am not interested to strip for any guys even though I could make much more money tah serving at the bar. I am not interested in the men at the club. Some are cute I admit, but I have my own rules: don’t get involved with customers. I am quite content to serve drinks behind the bar. I also have the company of my books and my studies. And oh yes! My cat. Her name is Samantha also. That doesn’t mean guys don’t try to pick me up. I tell them what they want to hear. “I am bi. You see that stripper over there the one with the black g-string? That’s my girl friend. She is very lesbian and very jealous. So don’t even go there.” “Well babe, that’s OK. I don’t mind if she joins us. I’ll pay for both of yous.’ Or, “I would love to watch the both of you so long as I get to fuck one of you afterwards.” That’s the sleazy ones. They are not all like that. Usually they tell you how beautiful I am and how incredibly rich they are. Some are even sons of sheiks with fabulous fortunes and they want to carry me away into a far, far away land and make love to me on sandy beaches in the middle of the desert. I have no idea where you can find beaches in the desert. Others try to play the card of the broken heart, or the lonely misunderstood husband locked in an unhappy marriage. I just laugh and take gratefully their money: “Some other time perhaps?” “Yes some other time.” Sometimes if the evening revenues are low, I flirt a bit with one or two. But that’s all. This special bit of attention and the fluttering of my eyelashes usually make them generous. And I am grateful that’s all I have to do. That doesn’t mean I am not romantic at heart and dream of a special someone. I know he is out there somewhere. He’s just not walked into my life yet. Meanwhile, according to my many admirers I keep breaking more and more hearts. And I assure you I have never broken my own rules, and never will. He just appeared at the club one hot summer night. He had two body guards with him, but I doubt if he couldn’t take care of himself if he had to. Night after night he sat always at the same table facing the bar, with the two body guards standing behind him. I don’t think he paid much attention to the show, although he could follow all the action on the wall mirror behind me at the bar if he wanted to. One his guards bring him his drinks to the table, straight club soda always. You see I don’t serve customers at the tables. The strippers do that. It’s a way to get the boys to order more. Imagine a naked woman serving you your drinks. Some girls even dip their nipple in the drink in front of you before serving it to you. Who is he? No idea. His muscular body betrayed long hours of work out at the gym to carve this incredible build. We just exchanged once a few words just enough for me to detect a Latin American accent. He never hit on any of the girls nor had one of the strippers give him a lap dance. Not even follow one to the VIP lounge far a private time together. Oh and girls tried. Some were even attracted to him and would have gratefully given him free a lap dance just to get close to him. He was however generous to them even while he turned down their services knowing full well that if he didn’t pay them they would end up losing money they depended on. Evidently he was aware of that. Besides I don’t think money mattered to him judging by the designers’ suits he wore so perfectly well. So why was he here night after night till closing time. We had exchanged only a few words, enough for me to notice his Latin American accent. The theory among the girls in the change room where I usually joined them for my breaks was that he was here every night for me. At that moment I felt a surge of unknown emotions bursting from deep inside my stomach. Like someone ripping my insides. Was he really interested in me? Then why has he not made a move yet? I doubt he was the shy type. Or playing the hard to get. He looked like a man who always got his way and took what he wanted when he wanted it. If nothing happened soon he would probably one day not come again and I would never know. Chloe and Daniela stayed behind with me for moral support. I had told them I had no idea what to do. They just smiled. The DJ had suggested to him to stay after the club closed for a private show. The lounge magically came alive again just as if the evening had not ended. Lucky’s voice in the background was covered by the hot sultry voice of the woman singer. Daniela and Chloe walked on stage and ever so sensually ever so slowly removed item by item their clothes down to their g-string. Wrapping herself around the dance pole Chloe climbed half way up then flipped herself upside down, and slowly brought herself down. The music beat continued while the two strippers joined their bodies their nipples just touching. They came down the stage and both removed their G string, one on each side they gave him an incredibly erotic lap dance all the while kissing each other and fondling the other’s nipples. It was so erotic even Lucky had gone quiet. There was a burst of bright light flooding the dance floor. That was my cue. Suddenly the two of us were all alone. No music, no strippers no body guards just him and me. I leaned trembling against the dance pole for support. I had never stripped before. I didn’t know if I could go through it. God why doesn’t he put an end to this and let me run away? Or couldn’t he just reach for me and take me? “Samantha, I heard this voice inside me saying, it’s now or never. You have the power to go through with this.” I betrayed my innermost turmoil about what was going to happen when a tear rolled down my cheek. As I sat on the chair on stage I started peeling off my clothes. First my long red gloves, then I let my hair flow loose down my shoulders. I stood up and turning my back to him I undid the zipper of my long gown which fell down to the floor around me. Underneath I was wearing a camisole. One leg on the chair facing him sidewise I stared at him while I undid the straps of my high heels. Then I closed my eyes. I couldn’t go any further if he did not make a move, one move, any move please God! I sensed he was standing behind me. He reached underneath the camisole and ran his hands up and down my naked body. I was still a bit in control of myself to notice that he was shaking as he explored all the most intimate recesses of my body. He lifted the camisole and brought it over my head before removing it completely. He held me in his arms tight, tight so I couldn’t breathe. I was completely naked. Our lips met and we exchanged a searing hot kiss. He kissed my breasts and kneeled down exploring the inside of my thighs. Suddenly I felt an amazing surge of pleasure and inner contentment and peace as I reached this incredible orgasm. Tears were rolling down my cheeks as I kneeled in front of him helping him to remove his clothes. The morning came much, much too, too soon.