argst05 |
Stripper
How does a shy Irish virgin become a
stripper?
Alexandra O'Shaughnessy is a co-ed barely
getting by on what her old fashioned Irish father sends her. When he tries
to force her to give up college and come home she rebels and takes a job
waitressing. But the tips her revealing outfit brings aren't enough as he
cuts her allowance further and further. And Alex finds, much to her shock,
that she likes showing herself off to the hungry men she serves. As her
shyness and innocence fade, so too do her inhibitions. She reluctantly
takes a job as a topless dancer, and then plunges further into the sordid,
yet exciting world of sex, becoming a stripper and lap dancer.
$5.95 34,000
words
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One
I yawned loudly as I dropped my books on my desk and took off my coat. I
hated Tuesdays. I had an Economics course at 8 in the morning, and the day
didn't end until Marketing class was over at six.
But at least I had the afternoon off tomorrow. I could get in some studying.
I took off my shoes, then sat down at my desk to go over the mail. I felt the
buildup in tension when I saw the letter from my father. Lately he only wanted
to talk about one thing...money.
My parents were middle-class, not rich, and it was costing them a lot of
money to send me to university. This hadn't bothered them much when my two older
brothers had gone, but my mother, and to a much greater degree, my father,
thought it was a waste of time and money to send me here.
They were from Ireland, you see, not the modern Ireland of Dublin and Cork,
but the rural farming lands of Munster. They were staunch Roman Catholics, and
their views of women were from the last century.
I think the only reason my father agreed to allow me to come in the first
place was the argument my mother made that I'd be able to meet a nice law or
medical student here, and marry him, of course.
Then I could quit this silly place and go and keep house like a good girl
should.
I opened the envelope and gloom settled on me, along with frustration and
anger. My dad was all but giving me notice that I should find some nice guy
quick or I'd find myself back home in Pennsylvania working as a waitress or shop
clerk, both of which were much more respectable jobs than this silly Business
stuff I was studying.
He said he was almost broke, but I knew that wasn't true. My father always
moaned about money, but he had more than enough to keep me in university, and
would have if I were a man. It was so unfair!
I'd been here two years now, and it wasn't my fault that I was so busy
studying that I didn't have much time for a social life. Anyway, I didn't want
to meet some guy and get married so I could play wifey for the rest of my life.
The door opened and Shauna came bouncing in.
"Hi!" she said, in her musical voice.
Shauna was a bit of an airhead.
"Hi, Shauna," I sighed.
"Oooo, big depression. Not another letter from your old man?"
I nodded.
"Tell him to go fuck himself," she said.
My parents would have been shocked, and I was two years ago, but I'd gotten
used to her language and it hardly bothered me at all any more.
"I can't do that as long as he's paying the bills," I said.
"So get a job."
"I've looked," I sighed, pushing my chair back. "It's not that easy finding a
part-time job that's going to pay for everything and still leave me time to
study. Most of what I'm qualified for only pays minimum wage. Do you know how
many hours I'd have to work at that to support myself?"
"Lots?" she asked.
I rolled my eyes. Shauna didn't have to worry about money. Her parents paid
for anything she wanted, clothes, car, and trips, whatever.
"I know a job you could do!" she said excitedly. "Maria mentioned there's an
opening at Owl's, the restaurant she works, and they make really good tips."
"Owls? Isn't that the place where the waitresses wear really tight tops and
short shorts?"
"I think so. All the girls are pretty and well-built anyway. That's why Maria
asked me," she giggles.
"I don't think so," I snorted.
"Why not? You're real pretty, and you got a better body even than me. I've
seen your boobs, remember."
I blushed a bit, then shook off the embarrassment. Shauna was completely open
about sex and nudity. Nothing embarrassed her.
"I can't wear stuff like that," I said. "In the first place I'd be too
embarrassed. In the second place dressing like that is degrading to women. I'm
going to be a financial analyst, or maybe a stock broker. I can't walk around
looking like some tramp just to get tips!"
She sighed and sat on her bed. "Well, if you work at minimum wage you'll get
about four dollars an hour. If you work, say, twenty hours in a week, you'll
get...uhm..."
"Eighty dollars," I said, rolling my eyes.
"Right."
"Minus taxes and withholding, so probably seventy dollars."
"Seventy dollars for twenty hours work. Maria works four hours shifts at
Owls, and she says she gets over a hundred bucks in tips a night."
"That much?"
She nodded. "That's twenty dollars an hour."
"Twenty five," I said absently.
"You wouldn't have to keep writing home asking for money for shampoo or books
or stuff," she said. "Maybe your old man would shut up then."
"I don't knowwww," I said, getting up and going to the mirror.
"Come on! You're really pretty, and stacked too."
"Please," I said, embarrassed.
"You're a thirty-six D cup," she said, coming up behind me, "And you got
great legs, and really nice hair, for a brunette, and a pretty face."
"And my father would have a heart attack if he saw me working in that place,"
I grinned. "A fucking heart attack."
"Right!" she laughed.
"I feel so... trampy," I said, making an embarrassed face.
Maria grinned and shook her head.
"Don't be dumb. Look, I'm Catholic too, but there's nothing wrong with
flaunting yourself a bit to get ahead. It's all in a worthy cause, remember."
I nodded, unconvinced.
"Anyway, you can see people dressed like that all over the place. Of course,
that's partly because you're not dressed right."
"Huh?"
She took my arm and led me back into the locker room.
"Take off your top."
"Why?"
"Just do it."
Feeling awkward, and glad I'd had to get used to changing around Shauna, I
lifted up the T-shirt and took it off.
"Now the bra."
"What!?"
"You see me wearing a bra?"
"Well... no... but I wasn't gonna mention it."
"You'll get twice as many tips if you don't wear a bra."
"Maria, I have to wear a bra, otherwise I... uh..."
"Bounce. No, you won't. Just take it off."
Her hands went to the straps and jerked them down.
"Maria!"
"Come on. We gotta go out there in a minute."
"I... can't go out there with no bra," I said, face red.
"Sure you can."
She helped me take off my bra, and I blushed even more as I bared my soft,
rounded breasts.
"You're only nineteen, for God's sake. Look how firm they are. They won't sag
or anything."
"But when I move..."
"We'll take care of that. Put your shirt back on."
I pulled it on quickly, and Shauna grabbed the bottom, which I had had tucked
into my shorts, and kind of rolled it up, then turned me around and yanked the
material together in back of me, tying it off. The thin T-shirt pressed in so
tightly against my breasts that they we both well-supported and very clearly
outlined.
"Much better," she said, turning me around again.
"I'm practically naked!"
"Oh bull. Oh, and here."
She gripped the waistband of my shorts and yanked them up hard. I yanked them
back down again, and she yanked them back up.
"Just show a little bit of cheek and you'll get those tips pouring in."
"I feel like a whore," I said.
"Don't be. We're taking these suckers for their money and not giving them a
damned thing in return except heartburn."
She reached up to my hair and jerked the clips out that I'd put to hold it
back.
"It'll get in my way when I work," I protested half-heartedly.
"This isn't a regular restaurant, Alexandra. The guys want to see a pretty
girl, and pay you big tips for it. Tying your hair back will cost you. I know
it's not fair, but in this place, the prettier you are, the better looking and
more leg and tit you show, the better your tips."
I was incredibly embarrassed for about the first half hour out in the
restaurant, then I kind of got used to things. I mean, you can only remain
embarrassed for so long before something doesn't bother you any more, even
wearing a shirt so tight everyone could see just how big your nipples were at a
glance.
I was still a little embarrassed from time to time, when I caught some guy
really staring at my breasts, or when someone made a lewd comment about them, or
about my behind, and I dropped a plate when some guy squeezed my ass, but the
first night wasn't too bad, and I did get nice tips.
The funny thing was that the more I did it, the more... well... the more...
cocky I got, the more I flaunted myself.
See, I'd always dressed very demurely, but now I found that flaunting my body
as I was there was incredibly exciting. It turned me on to see guys so...excited
at just looking at me, to know how hot they thought I was.
They lusted after me, and thought I was beautiful, and made it so clear and
plain that they would love to get me alone somewhere and do lewd things to my
soft, white body.
I felt quite safe, though, since there were bouncers, and anyone who got out
of line would be tossed out. I kind of flaunted myself a little more, wagging my
ass when I walked sometimes, talking in double entendres to some of the guys a
the tables, returning their lewd jokes.
I liked having those guys drooling over me. It excited me, and made me feel
proud and...and beautiful...and sexy.
Not that I knew that much about sex, being a virgin. But it was more and more
on my mind as the days passed, as I sashayed around in the restaurant
half-dressed, guys staring at my ass cheeks and tits.
Sometimes Jerry, the bartender, would turn the heat down so the room would
get chill and our nipples would get hard. At first that really embarrassed me,
but after a while I kind of liked it. It meant better tips, got the guys more
excited, and let me kind of... show off myself without taking any responsibility
for it.
One evening I got so excited that when I got home and got undressed and got
into bed, I felt my pussy throbbing in such a delightful way that I slid my hand
down and squeezed it repeatedly.
I'd never masturbated before, because my priest said it was a terrible thing
to do. Anyway, I hadn't really been much tempted until lately. But now I thought
of all the things I'd overheard from girlfriends, and thought of how hot I'd
been at the restaurant, and I slowly pressed a finger against my pussy opening.
I felt wicked as I ran my finger up and down the tight little slit. Yet I
knew most people did it, and that it couldn't really be that bad if most people
did it.
I rubbed especially hard at the top, where my clitoris was, and the pleasure
began to grow and grow, my insides getting hot and tight, the pressure building
up inside me.
I eased my finger down between my soft pussy lips, feeling the moistness of
my inner body. I probed against the tight hole that lead to my pussy tunnel,
dipping my finger inside as my other fingers continued to stroke along my slit.
I felt a powerful burst of pleasure as I pressed my thumb against my clitoris
and rubbed it back and forth. I imagined myself as I was now, legs spread, with
a man mounting me, plunging his great organ into my belly, up through the
virginal folds of my pink pussy tunnel.
I screwed my finger in a little deeper, eyes closed, body pulsing with heat
as I stroked my clitty. My behind was grinding into the mattress as the pleasure
seemed to roll over me in waves, and I couldn't control myself any more,
couldn't stop from thrusting my finger deeper in my pussy, pumping it in and
out.
I was breathing faster and faster, my head throbbing, my breasts swollen and
aching as my arms crushed them down and together.
Then there was a massive eruption of pure bliss that stunned me, that sent my
head reeling and made my body shake and quiver in spastic ecstasy. I knew it was
a climax, an orgasm, even though I'd never felt one before, and my mind screamed
in wonder as it flared higher and hotter inside my body.
Then, just as I thought I couldn't stand it any more, it eased and slowly
disappeared, leaving me with a feeling of exhaustion, my body in a warm,
languorous ease.
I lay there, relaxing, my mind filled with both guilt and pleasure, for over
an hour, remembering both the wonderful pleasure, and the words of my priest.
Finally I decided that only God could produce something so wonderful, and that
Father John was an idiot who didn't know what he was talking about.
And I couldn't help thinking...if masturbation was so wonderful, what was sex
like?
I masturbated often after that, sometimes making myself come two or three
times in a row. I got to looking forward to it. Often, when I was prancing
through the restaurant with glasses in my hand, my breasts straining against the
tight fabric of the T-shirt, I'd feel all quivery inside my loins, and think
about how much fun I'd give myself that night in my bed.
I also thought about sex, of course. How could I not. We weren't allowed to
date customers, but there were plenty of guys at school who'd be willing to do
anything I wanted.
But what did I want?
That was the problem. I had even less time for socializing now than I had
before the job, and wasn't really looking for a relationship anyway. So what was
I supposed to do, just grab some guy at random and ask him to have sex with me?
I simply couldn't do that. It went against everything I believed in, well,
not that I believed in it quite so strongly any more, but still...
Anyway, I still wasn't sure I even wanted sex. I was giving myself lots of
pleasure just with my own fingers. The thought of stripping naked in front of a
man, and letting him...put his thing inside me...was more than a little gross
and embarrassing.
And the very last person I would ever have thought of doing it with was
Jerry, the bartender.
He was such a... a... well, a pig. He took every opportunity to grope us, to
rub up against us, to get us to bend over so he could goose us, to touch us any
way he could. He also said the most disgusting things when nobody else could
hear!
I really loathed the man.
He was big and hairy, in his late thirties, strong, macho, and really crude.
None of the girls liked him. We had to check our locker room constantly to make
sure someone...and we all knew it was him...hadn't drilled a hole in the walls
again, like the ones that had been found before.
In fact, one was found one morning, cleverly disguised by a thin piece of
plastic which could be pulled back so an eyehole would appear in the men’s'
locker room.
None of us paid it much attention, just putting a piece of masking tape over
it when it was found. We'd come to expect that kind of thing.
Anyway, that night it was my turn to stay late with the busboy and bartender,
which happened to be Jerry that night. We always hated having to stay late when
the bartender was Jerry, because it gave him a chance to say more dirty stuff to
us, and maybe cop a feel if we weren't careful.
I helped the busboy, a little Latino guy named Raoul, clear the tables. Then
I got the spray cleaner and some rags and gave them a quick cleaning while Raoul
put the dishes through the dishwashers. Jerry was behind the bar doing his
accounts.
I thought.
The room was still brightly lit, and I bent over as I wiped at the table I
was doing. Suddenly I heard Jerry behind me.
"Just bend over a little more baby, and you'll be in the perfect position,"
he said.
I straightened, turned, and glared at him.
"Course you'd have to spread those gorgeous legs a little more," he grinned.
"Get lost, Jerry," I said, scowling.
"Don't be so stuck up, Alex baby," he grinned. "You love stickin' your ass in
men’s' faces. I see you prancing around all day wiggling that ass of yours."
"I do my job. Why don't you go do yours?" I demanded.
"All work and no play makes Jerry a dull boy," he said with a leer.
But the thing was he was right. I did get off on sticking my ass in men’s'
faces. And that evening I had been particularly obvious, a real cock tease, as
the boys used to say in high school. I felt a little embarrassed over it, but it
made me feel so hot...
And now, even with Jerry, who I didn't like, I felt a kind of buzz between my
legs, and in my belly, at the way he so obviously WANTED me. The way his eyes
filled with lust at the sight of me. I just couldn't help myself.
And when he went back to the bar and I continued cleaning the tables, I
couldn't resist on a few occasions...quite casually, putting my ass towards him
as I bent over and wiped at the table tops.
My short shorts were pulled up tight as always, baring the lower portion of
my buttocks, and I felt a kind of hot, throbbing in my loins knowing he was
looking at me, and because, unlike other times I did this kind of thing, there
was nobody around but him and me.
I did notice, out of the corner of my eye, as he slipped around the bar and
crept up behind me, but I pretended not to. I don't know why. Like I said, I
didn't like him, but I was aroused, and...and I was able to...to taunt him with
impunity.
I mean, I could easily say I wasn't doing a thing but wiping the tables.
Nobody could accuse me of acting like a tramp just because I was wiping the
tables. You can't wipe tables without bending over.
And I suspected what he would do. I suspected it, anticipated it, felt my
chest tighten, felt a knot in my belly.
Then his hand slipped between my thighs and he cupped my pussy through the
short, thin shorts. He squeezed sharply, and I screamed and jerked away,
scowling angrily and cursing him as he laughed in glee and went back to the bar.
But inside I felt a wave of sexual excitement. I was being so wanton, so
wicked! My father would be furious! My mother would call me a whore just for the
way I was dressed, let alone bending over with a man standing behind me.
I felt my nipples hardening inside my tight T-shirt, felt my pussy getting
moist. I wasn't for a single solitary second considering sex with Jerry, but I
was aroused.
I went over to the bar to collect the ashtrays Raoul had washed up, and
carried them out to the tables, scattering them about. Jerry's eyes feasted on
me the whole time.
"Those sure look like all day suckers," he said, looking straight at my
nipples.
Because he'd made the comment before many times, when turning down the heat,
I just called him a pervert and carried more ashtrays out into the restaurant.
But I deliberately went behind the bar...something none of us ever did, on
the excuse that one of them was still dirty and I needed to wipe it. I did it
knowing that Jerry would try and paw me again, wanting him to.
It was like...I could let him do stuff...without actually letting him, if you
know what I mean. How could I help it if that pervert pawed me, after all?
"Come on, baby, you and me at my place," he said, sliding his arms around me
and pulling me in against him.
"Let me go, you pig," I scowled.
His hands closed on my behind, digging into the soft flesh.
"I'd love to get my hands on these tits of yours, Alex," he leered.
"And you never will!" I snapped, pulling and twisting away from him, face
flushed.
Me and Raoul finished the dishes and glasses, and he got his coat and left. I
went to the locker room, and there noticed instantly that the piece of tape had
been taken off the hole. For a second I thought of putting it back up again, but
then...
Then the idea of him seeing me undress became so incredibly erotic and
arousing that I froze in place, staring at my locker. I couldn't!
But I could!
Nobody would blame me for not noticing the tape had been taken off. It had
been a long, hard evening of work, after all. And it wasn't like Jerry could
admit he'd seen anything through the hole without admitting he had drilled it in
the first place.
It was a crazy thought, but I was feeling almost light-headed with the heat
inside me. I had found it so hot and sexy showing off my body around the
restaurant, and often I'd imagined what it'd be like to just go out there naked,
to show everything!
So, even though I was sure he was standing behind that hole not more than a
dozen feet away, I reached behind me and untied the knot binding my T-shirt so
tightly. My insides twisted and my nipples got so hard they ached!
I sighed casually, then reached down, cross-handed, and, my face really
flushed now, lifted the shirt up and off. I did it slowly, too, peeling it
casually over my head and long brown hair, so my arms were in the air, my head
back, my breasts thrust out.
Get a hard-on, I thought, lewdly. Get all hard and excited at seeing me. You
can't touch me anyway.
I wondered if he had a big erection, imagined it, imagined him behind the
wall salivating at the sight of my breasts. I could hardly breath from the
powerful sexual tension inside me as I turned my back to him, then slipped my
fingers into my shorts and peeled them down, ending way, way over to slip them
off my ankles.
I stood up, and even though the bikini panties I wore had kind of pulled up
into my behind I didn't pull them out. Instead I stood on my toes to reach up
into the top of my locker, pretending to be looking for something, getting hot
at the idea that he was looking at my behind.
I stepped down, then turned, not looking at the hole, and went over to a
table. I sat down at the chair there, only about three feet from the hole, and
unstrapped my high heels, taking them off. I rubbed my sore feet...which wasn't
an act, really...and my breasts kind of dangled down a little as I bent over.
I leaned over and turned the radio up louder. It had a really good song on,
and I felt my breath catch in my chest, felt my guts twist as another lewd,
wicked idea came to me.
I started moving my hands to the music, rolling my head a little, humming
along with the beat. I stood up and headed back to my locker, grinding my behind
a little, my feet swaying.
I started dancing, my hips swinging, my legs moving, my arms rising. I turned
towards the peephole and danced back towards the table, turning the radio up
louder. My breasts jiggled as I danced, as my head jerked from side to side and
my body undulated erotically.
I was amazed at myself, filled with appalled delight. I felt my pussy getting
hotter and hotter, felt the juices almost dripping down my thighs. I was
squeezing down again and again on my pussy muscles, and grinding my thighs
together as I danced.
I thought I might actually come. I was so close, my body vibrating, buzzing
with sexual electricity. I actually considered taking off my panties! The idea
alone almost made me climax.
But I was still too shy, and it would ruin the believability. I mean, I was
just a girl in her locker room getting changed. All right, so I danced a little.
That was nothing to accuse me of. But there was no reason to remove my panties.
The song ended, and I stopped my dance and walked back to the locker. But I
was too hot, too aroused, my body shaking with excitement. I detoured, and went
into the small grotty bathroom we had.
As soon as the door was closed I jammed my hand down the front of my panties.
My fingers sought my clit and rubbed it frantically. Then my other hand pushed
into my tight panties, fingers searching for my drooling pussy entrance and
thrusting up inside.
I cried out, shocked as a blast of sexual pleasure ripped through my skull.
My legs got rubbery and the orgasm rose up and howled through me.
I sank to my knees, back against the door, shaking and jerking, my fingers
thrusting into my soaking wet hole again and again as I desperately frigged my
burning little clitty.
Another explosion of pleasure screamed into me and my head slammed back into
the door, dazing me. I had three fingers jammed up my pussy to the knuckles now,
thrusting hard and fast as I sobbed in animalistic pleasure.
I felt my cherry rip as my frantic fingers writhed inside me, and bit my
tongue to keep from crying out in pain. I shuddered, sliding down along the door
until I was squatting, knees back against my chest, head back, eyes closed,
fingers buried inside me.
I sat there, panting for breath, recovering, trying to catch my breath. It
took me a couple of minutes before I could drag myself to my feet. I shook my
head and combed my hair out of my face with my fingers.
Then I noticed the dark green stain in the crotch of my light green panties.
Jesus. That pervert was probably out there with his eye pressed against the hole
waiting for me to come out. What would he think if he saw how wet the front of
my crotch was?
I stripped them off and knocked my hand against the air hand dryer, letting
the hot air blast against the wet spot on my panties. Luckily the wet spot dried
quickly, or at least, dried to the point where it wasn't so obvious.
I used some paper towels on my soaking crotch, and also to dry some of the
sweat on my forehead. Then I slipped the panties back on and opened the bathroom
door, going straight to my locker.
I tried to ignore him now, reaching into the locker and taking out my bra. I
was sweating and breathless as I slipped the straps over my arms, then reached
behind me and snapped the catches in place.
I adjusted my breasts in the cups, then took down my blouse and slipped it on
too. The heat was starting to drop inside me now, though I was still shocked at
my own daring, and still terribly aroused. I buttoned the shirt down the front,
then took out my knee-length skirt and slipped it on.
I pulled on my street shoes, put my other clothes into a bag, and locked the
locker door. I wondered if I dared face him, whether he would make some kind of
outrageous, crude remark about me. The tension grew inside me again as I reached
for the door handle, then turned it and went through.
"Leaving so soon, baby?" Jerry leered when I came out into the kitchen.
"Obviously," I said, face flushed.
I couldn't face him. I knew he'd been watching me dancing, and as excited as
that made me it also embarrassed the hell out of me.
I headed for the back door and he gripped my arm and whirled me against him.
"Come on, baby. You know you want it," he growled.
"I do nn..fmphhhhh!"
His mouth crushed mine as he pressed me against the wall. He gripped me
behind the head, keeping me from twisting away as his other hand shot up between
us and cupped my breast.
I twisted back, pulling my mouth free.
"Let go of me!" I gasped.
"You say it, but you don't want it!"
He jerked my head back, then chewed on the nape of my neck, his fingers
kneading my breasts furiously. I felt the pleasure welling up inside me, felt my
crotch tingling with desire.
I groaned, and pushed feebly at him. He pulled back, then seized the front of
my blouse and tore it open. I cried out in shock as buttons popped everywhere.
Then his hands were on my breasts, his mouth on mine, chewing, sucking, biting,
his tongue pushing in violently.
He yanked my bra down under my breasts, forcing them up and out lewdly, then
pulled his mouth off mine, and bent sharply. His lips slipped around my engorged
nipple, his mouth sucking harshly, his teeth chewing at my sensitive breast me
as I shuddered and jerked against him.
I was trying to push him off, but my body was falling to pieces, my insides
twisting and roiling as sexual electricity rippled up and down my spine. I
couldn't believe my breasts were exposed like this and he was sucking on them!
Oh my GOD!
The feel of his lips on my nipple was shocking! My entire body felt like it
was being sucked out as he bit down on my flesh and sucked excitedly. My breasts
exploded with pleasure, and I knew I was near an orgasm, an orgasm that would be
centered around, not my pussy, but my swollen breasts.
"N-N-nooo!" I gasped, pushing at him.
"Oh man! What fuckin' tits!" he gasped, transferring his mouth to my other
nipple.
His fingers kneaded and squeezed and mashed my breasts savagely as he chewed
and suckled.
I came, my head jerking back, bouncing on my neck like a ball on a string. My
body pulled back as my back arched. I hit my head on the wall again, then my
legs completely collapsed and I fell to the floor.
This finally pulled his mouth off my breast, but he came down atop me, his
hand jerking at my skirt, lifting it upwards as it shot up my thigh. I twisted
onto my side, and tried to pull away, and his hand grabbed my ass.
I rolled away, gasping, my mind spinning, staggering for the door. I flung it
open and stumbled out into it, breasts bare.
"Come back!" he cried.
I ran out into the darkness of the alley, clutching my blouse against me.
$5.95 34,000
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