Bittersweet Memories Ch. 01

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On a Saturday night, going to a strip club to watch girls get half naked was not something I put on the top of the list. But I was helpless in the assault from my friends.

They took me to my room and took away all my freedom and my mirror. I was put into contraptions and covered in more makeup than I own while my hair was pulled and teased and ironed. After an hour they finally let me look at myself and the woman that was staring back at me in the mirror was someone who would go to the strip club to perform rather than have a good time with her friends- or maybe both. My long brown hair was pulled back from my face and teased in a way that gave me a fake Mohawk. Kohl rimmed eyes stared back with lashes reaching high in applause. Looking over the rest of my body, I was enclosed in a skin tight black mini dress that I knew had a royal blue bra and panty set underneath, black sheer thigh highs and fuck me heels on the bottom. My tattoos were showing through the top of the dress and hidden underneath, keeping you guessing just how many I actually had, how far in those tattoos actually went. I was dressed to kill. Or strip. Or fuck. Whichever came first.

Dressing in a way that gave you the confidence to walk into a room knowing all eyes would be on you was powering. I wanted to go to the strip club now.

My self confidence was always something that needed work. You can cut your hair and adjust your body and pay to get anything you don’t like about yourself taken care of, but self esteem is never on sale. I haven’t ever felt sexy before. All my past boyfriends would treat me more like a best friend they can fuck and party with rather than someone they cared about and adored. I need to feel that for once in my life. When the opportunity came up for this gig, I took it. An amateur night at a strip club. All I had to do was go on stage, take off my dress and shake what Mother Nature gave me and what took me years to be comfortable with. I can do this. I need to do this. If I don’t, I will never be able to be comfortable inside again.

When I walked into the club, power flowed from my naked arms as all eyes turned on me. The club was mostly men coming to see a little skin, have a beer and delay going home. A few groups were gathered and even a few women out to have a good time. Kind of like us. Dispersed through out were women dressed similar to myself with more skin showing and little morals able to peek through their confidence. The men worshipped these women. They walked by without a backwards glance but were followed by every testosterone filled eye in the house. I wanted that power. I wanted to feel that intensity follow my every move.

The music started pumping and a man jumped onto the stage with a microphone. All performers were to make their way to the back. The show was to begin. Making eye contact with a few men at the bar, I walked to the back door and stepped into the dressing area. Five other women stood waiting, all dressed to be undressed and filled with the self confidence I crave.

A red head with a sparkly dress named Cherry was first. The host dressed in a tuxedo came back and brought her up front. Her song played, “Pour Some Sugar on Me”, and as the bass thumped through the wall, I imagined the woman on stage slowly peeling the dress from her body and revealing dips and curves of smooth porcelain skin that would be brighter compared to her red hair. My nerves kicked in and I was unsure if I could do this. I didn’t look quite like the other girls. I was tattooed and pierced and had different curves. My breasts were a bit larger and so was my ass, but I did feel like I had the best built legs out of all the contestants.

When Cherry’s song ended, she came back in with fewer clothes but a huge fistful of singles and a huge grin. She was glowing and laughing with the rush of her performance. I needed to do this.

After one more girl had her chance it was my turn. I picked a heavy song that fit my appearance and was telling the story that I needed to tell without words. “Fever” by Bullet For My Valentine. A song about going to strip club, throwing all your money away on a hot chick then fucking her brains out without caring about anything else in the world. Come on and take my money.

The opening riff blasted over the speakers as I sauntered onto the stage as if I do this every night. Men gathered at the stage and when I gave them a half smirk and winked, more followed and moved closer. The T-shaped stage had a pole in the crossroads that I walked up to and leaned my back against while surveying the crowd. And there he was, at the end of the stage.

He sat back in his chair with a beer bottle dangling from his fingers. He had mirrored aviator shades on that even though I couldn’t see through; I knew he was looking at me. His short brown hair was slicked back and a black bandanna was tied around his forehead to give him a badass look that he had without the bandanna. His muscled arms were bahis firmaları completely covered in tattoos up to the knuckles and I could only imagine what artwork he had underneath that black wife-beater. Leaning forward, he took a sip from his beer and smiled at me. Let the games begin.

I bent from the waist and flipped my hair back, running my hands down my curves and back up to my breasts. A few men whistled and yelled but I was all for my sinister gentleman at the end of the stage. With a nervous pull, my dress was undone and I heard a yell to my left. My girlfriends cheered me on and gave me the encouragement I needed. I was doing this. The dress fell and after I kicked it to my friends, I did a spin to show all in the room what I had to give. My breasts were cupped in the royal blue satin bra, offered up like a sacrifice and the small bikini panties I wore covered the throbbing skin underneath while men pushed each other aside to slip shaky dollar bills in my straps and thigh highs. A few dance moves and a few bills more and I went onto my hands and knees and stared at the one who stole my attention. He drained his beer and rested it on the table. Turning back to me, he held up a twenty and nodded his head to come over. Yes, Master.

I crawled slowly down the stage, stopping to let men trail fingers over my skin, tracing the tattoos in awe and paying for their worship. When I reached him at the end, he had the twenty dollar bill rolled up lengthwise and was twirling it between his fingers like a baton. His mouth was surrounded by a goatee that twitched slightly when he smiled at my approach. I leaned up, spreading my knees and trailing my fingertips over my legs, my thighs and hips up to the breasts which were swollen and sore from want. His attention made me want. All the other men made me feel good and wanted, but the quiet desires pouring from his sexy body made my pussy pulse with the music and want to crawl in his lap and lick him from head to toe.

He sat up and leaned closer to me, resting his arms on the stage and motioning for me to come closer as well. I inched my knees bit by bit until his warm fingertips grazed my skin. He took the tip of the rolled up twenty and tickled his way to my suddenly wet panties. Biting his lip, he hooked a finger in the blue fabric and slid the twenty underneath, poking out the sides. Men all around him groaned at the brief glimpse of wet heaven, and my man just laughed. I stood with the bill showing through the sides of my panties and walked to the pole. A few spins and grinds and the song ended. Power flowed from the fingertips and the crowd cheered. I did it. And I loved it. My tattooed man even clapped for me as the host came out to do his thing and I was escorted back stage. The girls all congratulated me as I cooled off, got dressed and counted my money. Hundred and fifty bucks. Not bad at all for a girl with self esteem issues and little sexual experience.

The rest of the girls went and danced their clothes off and we were all brought out to the stage to announce the winner. Men yelled names out and whistled as we waited to hear who won the contest.

“And the winner is… Apathy Kiss!!!” and the crowd went wild.

I won!!

Bullet For My Valentine played over the speakers one more time and I danced with the other girls on stage to the music, men not even bothering to wait until I get to them, just throwing the money at me from the edges of the stage. The man sat on the end, clapping for me and he brought his hand up, taking off his sunglasses. His gaze hit me so hard, I froze in my step and almost tripped, but Cherry saw the slip and pulled me close acting as if we planned it.

I laughed and danced until the song ended and joined my friends with my money and winnings from the contest. They noticed the man, and asked if I knew him. When I denied it, they told me he only sat up front when I was on stage and didn’t give the other girls any money. Only the twenty he slipped inside my panties. Good. I turned to see if I could see him and he was gone from the seat up front. A few quick glances around and I found him at the bar, another beer in his hands tipped to his mouth. This is my chance. This wasn’t part of the original plan, but my new found confidence can’t be wasted and I found a man I could use it on. My friends wished me luck and like a seasoned call girl, I sauntered up to him at the bar and curled my body into his, letting him know I was all his and only his.

“Hey sugar, buy me a drink?” I didn’t recognize my husky voice that dripped from my red pursed lips, but it got his attention and he hit me with that gaze one more time. He looked me up and down like a piece of meat and he was a hungry wolf. With a little smile he motioned for the bartender and leaned into my ear.

“With all the money you made tonight, I should be asking you that.” His voice was deep but smooth and ran through my body like a shot of whiskey.

I ordered a beer kaçak iddaa and keeping my eyes on his, I took a long drawl from the cool bottle. “How else are you going to prove to me that you’re a true gentleman?”

He twisted in his stool and brought my body close to his, putting his hands on my hips and leaning into my ear. His breath hit my skin and brought goose bumps over my flesh. “Maybe I’m not a gentleman. Maybe I’m a mean son of a bitch that would corrupt a sweet girl like you.”

He sat back and I saw the challenge in his gaze. He wanted a tease. But he wanted a tease that would eventually give in and fulfill every promise that the body offered. Could I do that? I was never bold or daring and in my tattooed man’s eyes I saw the dare as if he spoke it out loud. Can I fire him up and be woman enough to put out the flames? I sure as fuck wanted to try.

“So, Miss Kiss, How much would it be to get a private view room with you?”

I wasn’t quite prepared for the proposition. I knew the private view rooms were pretty much rooms designed for scandalous affairs. Since the club catered to all types of people and all kinds of experiences, you can rent the rooms for a few hours and have private parties with the girls, business meetings that tend to get out of hand or a getaway for couples that can’t make it to their car.

His strong arms pulled me closer to his body and I felt just how strong and solid he was. Years of working out and a hard life built that body. I wanted the mean son of a bitch to corrupt me.

“How about you buy me another beer and I will meet you in the room in fifteen minutes?” I drained my drink and rested it on the bar, trailing delicate fingertips over his chest and leaning closer like a practiced courtesan with a mission. I leaned my face close to his skin and took a deep breath of the cologne on his neck. I licked the skin over his collarbone and trailed my tongue to his ear. “It’ll be the Red Room, sugar. And don’t be late.”

Before my practiced tease could be finished and I would make my dramatic exit, he grabbed my hand and pulled me back to the cradle of his body. His mouth crushed down to mine and he slipped his tongue into my mouth, devouring my lips and twirling the passion in both of us to a boil. I felt his tongue piercing click against mine and knew I would find out how that bar felt running all over my body. He broke the kiss just as abruptly and on wobbly legs I walked away to the shocked stares coming from my friends. I had to explain to them what happened but, where to begin? In this man’s arms, I felt like I was special. He looked at me like I was gift, and he didn’t know how to say thank you. His kiss brought such a desire in my body that I was almost afraid that if I was alone with him, as soon as he touched my skin I would burst into flames.

My friends reserved the Red Room already for a private party so we had it all night. I was going to borrow it for a bit. I turned and saw him make his way to the hallways leading to the rooms and I quickly made my way to follow him. Fear began seeping into my mind. I can talk the talk, sure, but will I be able to walk the walk? Only one way to find out.

He opened the door to the room with two beers in his hand and turned to see me behind him. His half smile came through his face and he held the door open for me to walk in. Closing it, the lock made a loud click as if sealing us off from the rest of the world in the sound proof room. The Red Room was named for the décor. Blood red dripped from everything- table cloths, wallpaper, bed and chairs. Everything was a dark red that looked like a Victorian vampire’s bedchamber. My gaze went back to my man. He walked close to me and handed me a beer.

“Your fee, Miss Kiss.”

I took the drink and smiled, getting more and more nervous as the silence around us filled my ears. “Well, sir, now that you have me here, what do you plan on doing with me?”

That was the sentence to cut whatever tether inside that was holding his beast at bay. I saw the switch in his eyes instantly and he advanced on me, walking me backwards until I was pressed between him and the wall. His hands descended onto me fast and ran up and down my body. He growled, actually growled in my ear and let out a strangled, “Cane. You can all me Cane.”


His eyes closed and he took a deep breath. “Say it again.”

Cane. Cane….

I was rewarded with another bruising kiss and this time, I answered back. I wrapped a leg around his thigh and pulled him closer as his grip on me tightened. His lips moved to my neck and he bit hard enough for me to cry out and drop my beer.

He pulled back and looked almost shy. “I’m sorry; it’s just been a while.”

Been a while? “What do you mean, like, been a while with a woman?”

“Yeah. It’s been about five years.”

Five years? I’m a bit of a prude and even I have gotten laid in the past year let alone five years. I would expect kaçak bahis a long time for this guy to be a week. “Why has it been so long?”

He looked a bit shy again, as shy as a huge hulk of a sexual beast could look covered in tattoos. “Well, I just got out of prison.”

Whoa. Not what I was expecting at all. I didn’t expect this kind of upfront honesty come from this guy. A bit more of that fear crept into my body and I felt myself pull back a little. His hold on me was strong and I didn’t have anywhere to go and he sensed my panic. “No, it’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. It’s just been that long for me, and I wanted you to know. I’m a pretty honest person and I needed to be straight up.”

How does one take that? I mean, if I was a real stripper, I would just laugh and toss a choreographed hair flip and say, “Kinky. I like a little danger with my sex.” But I’m not. I’m a normal woman with low self esteem and wasn’t told how to handle a situation like this. I wanted to be smooth and just do what I wanted. Do whatever felt good at the time. It felt good to kiss him, and felt good to be in his arms when he trailed his hands up my body and his lips over my neck. So I did what a practiced courtesan would do. I pulled him closer and kissed him soundly.

“Well then we better make it worth the wait, won’t we?”

The beast took over and he lifted me in his arms, tossing me onto the blood red bed. I lay back, my legs provocatively spread and the black mini dress slid up and became more just a suggestion rather than a dress. He picked up my foot and with patience that he hasn’t shown me yet; he unstrapped my shoe and removed it. Clever fingers moved up the stocking to my thighs and pulled them down slowly, teasing me to a drenched state. He repeated the process with my other leg and kissed his way up my body to my mouth. Under his breath he gasped, “God damn…” as he pulled the shirt over his head and the dress from my body.

I was in the same bra and panties as I was strutting around in earlier, but I still felt a bit exposed to him. Because he was the only one here. He took my right foot in his hand and with his gaze locked onto mine, he kissed my toes, licking the delicate flesh in between each to trail his tongue to my instep. I’ve never had anyone do that and while it was a bit odd, no one told my body and I was flushed with a wave of heat. His lips moved over the smooth skin of my calf and licked behind my knee, nibbling up my thigh to my blue panties. He pressed his forehead to the satin fabric and growled as he took a deep breath, a beast smelling his prey and excited for the payoff.

He pulled the panties from my legs so fast my body slid on the bed and before I could say anything he dove to the drenched skin he uncovered. His tongue snaked out of his mouth and tasted the honey coating my labia, chills running up my spine, making me cry out. He groaned at my taste and licked harder, swirling the tip of my clit in a dizzying kiss. I threw my arms over my head and gripped the bedspread, thrusting my pelvis into his face as he wrapped his arms around my thighs and dined on my body. The chills turned into thrills as he flicked the tip of my clit faster and faster, my hips moving and the crest of my orgasm coming fast. He dipped a finger into my tight hole and I exploded. He pressed harder and I came higher, my body lifting off the bed. I spiraled through my release and he finger fucked me harder and harder, his knuckles slamming into my pelvis and his tongue pressed flat as his tongue piercing moved back and forth. With one last gasp, I fell to the bed, a whispered, “Fuck…” from my lips. He pulled away and lay on top of me, kissing me with my juices all over his face, giving me a taste of what he just had.

Dizzy and drunk from the explosion of that orgasm, I lay dazed as he stood up and removed his pants, standing before me in all his naked tattooed glory. He was completely covered, and I wondered which ones were done before prison and which ones were done inside. I sat up, took off my bra and lay back down in offering. He pulled me to the edge of the bed and rested my bent knees over his elbows. His cock was rock solid and resting on my swollen lips as he thrust back and forth, teasing us both to groaning. The velvet smoothness of his dick was heaven against my hot skin and I wanted to feel him inside me. As if hearing my thoughts, he pulled back and rested the tip at my sacred entrance, looking at me for protest or demand.

I don’t talk dirty. I rarely even speak in the bedroom. It’s usually left at “Yes,” “More,” “Harder,” or “Stop.” But I was supposed to be the seasoned girl that knew the moves and words to get what she wants. “Fuck me, Cane. I need to feel your cock inside me”

Oh, if any of my exes’s heard that, they wouldn’t know what to do with themselves.

As if that was the secret password, he thrust hard and fast inside me and made me cry out once more. He was breathing deeply now, in through his nose and out through his mouth, as if keeping his control in check. I didn’t want him to, I wanted him to let loose. He’s been without for 5 years now, and I wanted to give him the fuck of a lifetime.

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