Malflic

Jesus seemed to keep the company of sinners, thieves and whores so I figured it must be the way to go. I grew up running in the wrong circles, hell part of the time I was the reason the circle was wrong. I’ll venture a guess that is how my father in law felt about me then, maybe even now…oh the things I want to do to your daughter, I was every fathers worst nightmare. I’ve kept the company of hustlers and thugs, killers and dealers, whores and strippers. They have been my friends, business associates, relatives and in a few cases lovers. No not the whores I’ve never actually exchanged cash for sex only dinners and gifts but that’s not paying for sex is it? According to most women no but it is bartering goods for services when you really look at it. More than one female has kept my company to receive something in return and if you think that’s not the way it works all too often think again.

Now back to the point of this story. I’ve wondered in and out of strip clubs. I’ve seen dancers that were my friend’s girls, and sisters. I once had a girl who recognized me but I hadn’t seen in years keep working me over & I couldn’t figure out why until she came over after her set to tell me who she was. I rarely spend my own money, only if it’s a bachelor party for a friend otherwise its with customers. this is where the story takes a turn.

Once a upon a time I was in the city of brotherly shove with a boss of mine. He liked strippers…frankly they scare me. I know its fake and they only love me for my money but in truth its probably not much different than those who work for me, whores each and every one at least you know a stripper’s job is to bleed you dry. But when the CEO says I’ll take you out and we end up in a club not far from city hall. I found a certain irony in and of this. This I where I met Seven. I didn’t want to be there but on the up side behind the main stage was a wall of televisions showing my home town team’s hockey game. I was tipping the girl bringing me cokes ten bucks a clip, she seemed nice enough and under appreciated. Free soda in my world is a wonderful thing…well worth the 10 bucks a glass that wasn’t my money in the first place. That’s when my travel companion wanted to spend some time in the champagne room. Why? Who the fuck knows, but he had his entertainer of choice bring a few friends to line up for me like a menu to choose from. There was one particularly disinterested blonde looking over her shoulder at the same hockey game I was interested in. AND WE HAVE A WINNER. So I’m introduced to miss Seven, as the other walk away telling me two is better than one or it’s not too late to reconsider since I have no idea what I’m missing. I politely smile and proceed with my new friend to the VIP area. The drinks arrive and the conversations begins. As for me I could care less about the large surgically enhanced tits sitting next to me with her pussy covered only by a tiny piece of cloth. What I cared about was the hockey game. “but I want to dance for you” she insisted. I tell her that would be fine but only during commercials in the game. Not during the game. Admittedly she looked confused. I told her she could sit next to me. We could discuss anything she wanted but my interest was in the game.

It wasn’t intended to but it took her out of the world of sexuality and into the world of “getting to know me” We discussed music she was a Metalica fan but favored Rob Zombie to Dance to at work, her breast implants, past boyfriends, hopes and dreams. There is the stereo typical working my way through med school stripper talk but Seven had no such pretenses. She loved her industry and had recently done a test shoot for several adult magazines and was hoping to become a headline act. The place we sat in had done a feature article for Cheri magazine and she hoped to make it into some of the pictures from that shoot. At one point while discussing her professional intention she jumped up moving as if touched by the spirit in a Hollywood religious revival scene. She drew closer to me placed her hand on her left breast lifted it and showed me the scar from the surgery that put them in the state they were. I learned she had little more than an “A” cup previously but was now a “D”. her lean frame and small hips were a give away that her chest was naturally small.

As time progressed she grew concerned that I did not have a sexual interest in her. It was an apt observation since I genuinely did not. I enjoyed the conversation, watching the game with her was all fine by me. I did like her in a friendly way but she was not a sexual interest to me and this made her uncomfortable. I treated her like a gentleman and not like an object of desire. It appeared to begin to shake her confidence so I let her drive the conversation, she asked what I liked in a woman and I described the things that I found interesting. I talked oddly enough about my companion of the past decade and why I found her so intriguing. She drove the conversation back to the physical, I listened to the otherwise beautiful person describe all of her faults. She began to describe what she considered a wonderful relationship and while it was more graphic and physical in nature I imagine that her descriptions were not that different than the dreams of most little girls. She suddenly became child like in my eyes removing her from the realm of sexuality even more.

A Rob Zombie tune came across the speakers and she asked if she could dance for me. I obliged. She asked “how I would like her to dance”. I told her however made her happy, she stopped “no really? How should I dance for you?” she asked. “However you like” I responded “enjoy yourself dance like you would if you were out at a club with friends if thats what you want.” She looked amazed “are you…” she paused “Gay?”. “No I am not gay I assure you, you are quite beautiful, I‘ll enjoy watching you just have fun” I answered. She began to dance around the room as if she were in a different time and a different place. She was no longer an adult entertainer for those brief moments she was just a girl having fun. It was by far the most enjoyable part of the evening for me.

As the song ended the sat back down next to me, somewhat winded from the last song. “No one ever asked me to dance for fun before.” she stated. We continued the conversation and as time wore one I knew more about her life and thoughts than I had of many women I had had as lovers through out my life. I was an anonymous stranger who simply treated this young lady with a little respect. As the time drew near for me to leave I paid her for her time and shockingly she begrudgingly accepted. She asked if I would be back soon and I informed her that although I had fun I had no plans to return. She asked if I would like to meet for coffee some time and I politely declined stating that I would be going home on a late afternoon flight the next day. She asked if she could visit me in my home town. I explained that I had a lover and that her visit would be awkward thinking that this would discourage her interest. It did not she reminded me that a girl wasn’t a problem for her. I smiled and said that it would however be an issue for my lover. “her loss” she stated going back into the defensive emotional mode that her profession requires. We said good bye and that was that.

A few years later I was in that part of town on business and happened past that club. I thought of stopping to see if she had made it out but since I genuinely liked her didn’t. Maybe she’s just a girl in the burbs with a loving husband and perhaps children. I like to think that is what happened rather than the many possible depressing options.