Sisterhood of the Traveling Taints

I had a regular show up with a lady companion. She was Russian, my regular is a Turkish American mix. He told me she was visiting and staying with him during her travels. At first I avoided them, because I don’t like to fall into couple traps, but eventually I said hi, and he greeted me warmly. I could tell she was a sex worker immediately, because of the way she carried herself and because she was undeniably out of his league. He wasn’t bad, just weathered and pockmarked. But she was like a Renaissance painting: svelte yet voluptuous with classical features and lily white skin. She looked at me appraisingly as I suppose I looked at her.

Him: She’s beautiful, isn’t she?

Her: She is lovely.

We shook hands.

Her: And such soft skin.

She was just as velvety to touch. She wore a white slip dress and brushed her brown hair behind her ear.

Me: I hope he’s treating you well. You’re gorgeous.

Her: He is. Thank you.

My regular grabbed her arm tightly, pulling her close like a dog insistent upon showing you its toy. He was clearly excited and in the mood to strut and posture. He was showing us off to each other because in that moment, he had us both.

Him: You both are so sexy. Selena, why don’t you dance for us?

I walked with them over to the small stage and danced for a little bit while they tipped and ooed and awed over me. My regular is not an especially generous man. He’ll give me what I ask and not a penny more, no matter how much he enjoys himself. After a few songs, the tipping slowed significantly, so I stopped and hopped off stage.

Me: Can I take you both for a dance?

Her: Let’s go for a dance.

Me: Do you want a single or a set?

Him: Well, how much would that cost?

Her: Let’s just do a single. We can do more later.

I made them pay for two dances, because for one, I hate singles, and secondly, I am not about to do double the work for half the price. I led them to the couple’s couch and sat them down. I decided to start with the woman. She was so petite beneath me, I was afraid I would crush her. I brushed my breasts against her face. She kissed my nipples and allowed her breasts to fall from her bra. I don’t usually let customers suck on my nipples in the singles room, but I made an exception for her. She was a little tipsy, and closed her eyes as I touched her. Meanwhile, my regular was playing with her pussy as I hovered above her caressing her breasts. He was a nuisance, but I knew she was working too. I wanted to touch her pussy like he was, but we hardly knew each other, and I wasn’t paying her.

Later, one of my friends, Olivia, was moping around. I went over and stood beside her.

Olivia: There is no money. I have tried. I talk to everyone. Nobody want.

Me: Have you talked to that guy?

I pointed to my regular.

Olivia: Oh no. He is with girls. I don’t want to.

Me: The girl he’s with is Russian. I know they would buy a dance with you.

Olivia: Oh no. I don’t like. You see, I work with her in San Marcos for a while. She was taking my regulars, yeah? She used to work here, but she was taking regulars and seeing them outside. She say, “oh, I am lucky, I am going to find husband here.” Arnold find out and he tell her she can’t work here anymore. That is why I don’t like.

Me: Oh, that makes sense.

Olivia: And now she is back with this man! It is not good. Don’t trust her.

Me: You’re right. Thank you for the info.

I hugged her. Arnold is one of the club owners. It’s very hard to cross him if you’re a beautiful white European woman.

Still, I love when I get the chance to work for other sex workers. There was another former stripper who came to the club. She had on a tight red jersey dress with a lace-up front. She’d come in with her boyfriend, a tall, dark black man with dreadlocks. I hadn’t considered talking to them, because they looked so young, but Silken gestured for me to come over and sit beside her. She was thoroughly sloshed with twinkling eyes full of mischief. Silken is in her forties but well preserved with sharp Mexican and Indio features and a confrontational style that has won many hearts, including mine. I sat beside Silken and she gave me the lowdown.

Silken: You should dance on her. She’s really nice. Go over there!

She grabbed my arm and tried to push me their way. She grabbed the girl’s rolling chair and pulled it so that she was facing us. To her credit, the girl took it all in stride, smiling at the interaction.

Me: I’m good. You can dance on her.

I laughed saying this, but I was truly tired and didn’t want to dance on the unwilling. Silken stood up and squatted on the girl’s lap, then started humping her forcefully. Shakira was passing by and Silken dragged her into the mix.

Silken: Dance on her, Shakira!

Shakira plopped down on the girl and gyrated sensually upon her lap. Silken pulled Shakira off then slung me onto the girl’s lap. I was tired, and worried for the woman who was, to her credit, being such a good sport.

Girl: It’s okay, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.

Me: I just don’t want to hurt you.

Girl: You’re fine!

I gave her a short dance my usual way, which was slower and more sensual than the previous displays, because I only have one mode.

Shakira: Giiiirl, if I had your body.

Me: Girl! But you are so hot!

Silken shoved Shakira on top of us, then Silken hopped on top and completed the ultimate stripper sandwich. The chair was rolling every which way beneath us. The former stripper was laughing. I felt her skin beneath me. Her dress was hiked all the way up from the friction and I noted she was going commando. Come to think of it, we were all going commando. Probably most people don’t have this kind of relationship with their coworkers. Doing intimate labor in the nude creates a special bond between people. I know everyone’s breasts and pussies. I know everyone’s weird tattoos that nobody else gets to see. We cry and laugh skin to skin.