Matt Who Is Not Like Other Guys

The DJ announced the club was officially open for lap dances only. I truly had not intended to still be there, but I was and Candice steered me and my friend Lily over to a pouty looking blonde man lingering in his chair.

Candice: You should buy a dance with them.

Lily: You should buy a dance with both of us.

Lily leaned onto my shoulder. She looked as sleepy as I felt. Her blonde wavy hair cascaded over my back and obscured her fine featured little face. I grabbed her boob and jiggled it enticingly and she cupped mine. The man was still looking indecisive and Lily had lost interest. She walked away and I decided to squat in front of him and try to sell him on one final dance.

Me: Hi, what’s your name?

Him: I’m Matt. What’s your name?

Me: Selena.

Him: Selena, I like your approach. What should we do?

Me: How about I list off the prices and you can make the final decision?

I rattled off the prices.

Him: If I get the VIP set, does that mean I get a blow job?

Me: No. Is that what you’re looking for?

Him: No. I just thought I’d ask.

Me: So, do you want the dance or not?

Him: Let’s do it.

I led him over to an open VIP booth. He whipped out his Juul and took a quick drag.

Him: I’m not like other guys.

Me: You’re not?

Him: I’m probably not like any of the guys you’ve met before. I wouldn’t normally be here, except that...

He exhaled as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

Me: What?

Him: I just ended my relationship. Three months ago.

Me: I’m sorry to hear that.

I started dancing on him. He smelled like cigarettes and alcohol like too many moody songs written by white people about white people. He buried his nose into my neck. I was self-conscious to be honest. It was the end of the night, and I was certain I wasn’t smelling my best.

Him: Are you Haitian? You smell Haitian.

Me: What? How? What does that mean?

Him: Relax, it’s a good thing. My ex girlfriend was Haitian.

Me: The most recent one?

Him: No, one before that.

Me: I’m not Haitian.

I continued the dance. He kept grabbing for my pussy and I had to swat him away. I turned to face him, to make my lady bits harder to get at, but as soon as I turned around he pulled my head in and kissed me. I pushed him away. My plan had backfired. He started to stand, carrying me with him and gestured for me to sit in the chair. I looked at him, unsure of where this was going. He got down on his knees and started leaning in. “May Day! May Day!” I crossed my hands over my pussy and caged that bad kitty up.

Me: No! No oral sex!

Him: Are you sure?

Me: This is not safe sex. Switch me places again.

I was so annoyed, and hanging in there primarily for the tip and to make sure he didn’t try to get out of paying for this ordeal. We finally make it through the final song and I drag him to the register to settle the bill. One of my previous customers was there, settling a bill with another girl.

Him: You’re obviously good at your job, but you know, you could be doing so much better than this.

Me: What do you do, Matt?

Him: I’m a medical device salesman.

He took another puff from his Juul and checked his phone. Oh Matt. Oh blonde haired, blue eyed, medical device salesman, Juul vaping, “not like other guys,” “does this come with a blow job,” Matt. The customer in front of him whispered to me.

Other Guy: Can I take you for another dance?

Me: Sure.

I said it to put a neat button on my time with Matt. I accepted his modest tip, and left.