No matter how you think this will end, you’ll be wrong – almost as much as I was.
I’ve never been a fan of strip clubs. I can count the number of times I’ve been covered in stale smoke and glitter on two hands and I never allowed myself to be blinded by the fantastical shroud of low light, lies, and alcohol.
I found myself living back in the city I grew up in -where the strip clubs require the lowest of lighting and strongest of drinks.
The group I was hanging with were regulars at all the gentleman clubs. I honestly don’t remember much about the night other than what I’m about to share.
The four of us entered the club and made our way through the menagerie of patrons, smoke, and scantily clad women. The girls on shift knew everyone in my group either had money or access to whatever their vice of choice happened to be. I had neither but I wasn’t about to set the record straight. I may have been opposed to paying for empty promises, but receiving benefits through their misunderstood assumptions? Come on. A strip club is constructed on a foundation of lies to begin with. My conscious was clean.
The sea of mediocre faces with bodies that displayed signs of drug addiction and poor choices were of no interest to me.
Then Sierra walked up.
Physically, Sierra was low-light flawless. She was young and appeared mostly fit with no visible stretch marks from childbirth(s) and no obvious needle tracks. Hair and makeup done right. Whatever body spray she adorned had me drifting into her like a pilotless ship bound for the shoreline.
Sierra played the situation just right. She didn’t rub right up on me. She kept her space while we exchanged lies -that she was there to pay for school… and I was single.
Sierra was around 5’5″, medium build, long jet black hair, fair complexion, naturally blue eyes and perfectly shaped C-cups. I had wanted a woman like her since I discovered that particular hair and eye combination occurred naturally in the wild. (Visualize Selene from Underworld, except not as tall, with long black hair, a fuller ass and breasts)
As time went by and more alcohol was consumed, I observed her sliding deeper into my personal space. I felt confident I could have her if I unlocked whatever her psychological damage was. Drugs? Daddy issues? Money for college? All the above?
Eventually, she was summoned to perform for the audience. I never had an interest in sitting at the stage and making it rain… But that was before Sierra.
The club wasn’t just topless. It was full nude. I knew once all her clothes came off, I was done for the night and was going to do whatever I needed to in order to take her home -or anywhere she was willing to show me her talents.
Her completely naked body covered in sweat and rolling around on the stage was more than I had hoped for. I began to care less and less that she was likely a mentally unstable, drug-addicted, Petrie dish.
After she left the stage, I returned to my original space. To my surprise she passed by all the other tables on her way back to me. This time, she walked right into my personal space and attached her body directly against mine -no reason to continue playing coy.
Sierra leaned over and whispered into my ear, “I need to go make some money, but I want to take you upstairs on the next 2-for-1 lap dance special.” I could feel her breath tickle the tiny hairs around the outside of my ear lobe… She had me and she knew it.
After a light kiss on my cheek, I admired her backside as she sauntered away. I completely expected to see her repeating her actions and movements with the other guys in the same way she had done with me – yet she never engaged them in the same manner. I was growing more intrigued.
Maybe 10-15 minutes later, the DJ announced the two-for-one dance. Several guys tugged at Sierra’s arm to get her attention, but as promised, she returned to me and asked if I was ready to go upstairs.
F*k yes I was.
She took my hand and guided me through the club and up the stairs to where the private rooms were. Once out of public view, she sat me back against the overstuffed black leather couch, parted my legs as wide as the couch would allow and began her performance. Through the first song, everything was as I would expect from a really good lap dancer.
And then the second song merged in… and nothing was the same.
Although the club strictly enforced a “no touching the dancers” policy downstairs, once we were alone and away from prying eyes, Sierra eagerly demonstrated the rules no longer applied. The part of her body she had placed within inches of my nose while on stage was straddled over my right leg and grinding down as though it was covered in poison ivy and I was her scratching post.
She took my left hand and molded it around her right breast. While holding my hand there, she leaned down to me and planted the other breast directly against my mouth -literally grinding her nipple against my lips until I opened up.
When the third song began, I was under her influence so heavily, I would’ve barebacked her right there in front of God and country. Consequences could wait till the blood test results came back.
As the third song was about to wrap up, Sierra’s energy shifted. Her breath and spasmodic movements gave away her approaching destination. I felt her skin tighten and a burst of sweat covered her body.
I was then obsessed with taking her home. Never in my previous years had a stripper gained the upper hand on me -not even to the point I would become physically aroused. Sierra had me ready to take her anywhere she wanted -even if it meant getting my ass kicked by the bouncers. I didn’t care anymore. I had so much bedroom violence planned for that girl.
Our time together felt like 30 seconds and an hour all at once. After she calmed down and collected herself, we parted ways. On our way back to the main area, I could hear her tell another dancer she finally “got hers” to which the other girl laughed and congratulated her.
While I waited to see if Sierra would return, I learned two important things. One I already had my suspicions of. The other… well…
It was confirmed that Sierra had a thing for cocaine, which made sense of her random trips to the dressing room. She would randomly disappear to the dressing room to get a bump.
The other enlightenment? Well, the guys in my group let me go on and on about her for a good amount of time. They even encouraged my master plan… Then my brother, which was one of the guys in the group, leaned over and announced, “Bro, don’t you know who she is?”
Puzzled, I inquired, “Who she is? Why would she be familiar to me?”
A huge smirk made its way across his face as he clued me in, “Bro, that’s your cousin, Tiffany.”
My?
WHAT?
The look on my face had the guys at the table off their stools laughing. Everyone knew except me. I hadn’t seen her since she was a baby. Plus, I had been away from the area most of my life. I had no idea who or what she was.
Did she know and still do this? Or was $20, $20 and who better to trust to get her off in a safe space than a family member?
NOOOOO!!!
WHYYYYY!?!?
My brain went vapor-lock. Sierra returned from her backroom white pony ride. This time, her body resting against mine did not have the same influence over me.
She began to talk about when she got off work and followed up with questions as to my plans and what our group was going to do.
If I attended her little afterparty, I knew what my fate would be. I already found myself asking “How distant of a cousin is she?” and “By marriage or blood?” I was desperate to find a way to make everything ok.
Once she was called back to the stage, I rolled TF out the door and didn’t look back. Even if no one found out we hooked up, I’d always know. I have had almost no moral compass most of my adult life, but there are indeed lines even I won’t cross. Blood ties are not approved territory regardless of how hot they are.
For weeks I thought about going back alone to tempt fate. I wanted to see her again. Every spare moment inside my mind she was there for me to recall. Her body… Her scent… Her orgasm…
I managed to stay away and never returned to that club or see her again.
Off The Rails 