Romance / Im In Love With A Stripper - Chapter 1 of Like A King

Summer

Dominique

Chapter 1 – I’m In Love With A Stripper

      I don’t remember whose idea it was, maybe it was mine.

      Somehow it came about that me and all the fellas would ride out to San Francisco for my eighteenth birthday to hit a strip club called The Crazy Horse. That came out to be three full carloads of horny young men, storming a strip club like S.W.A.T. on a pussy raid.

      I did everything I could to prepare myself. I put on my nicest outfit, gathered up all my tips from my job waiting tables, and stuffed the thickest roll of George Washington’s I could manage in my pocket, all hidden nicely under one crisp, clean, Ben Franklin.

      …I wanted to look like a baler, even though I was far from one.

      I looked a little out of place as the only one in a dress shirt, slacks, and Kenneth Coles. The rest of the group was full of crisp black tees, jeans, and Jordan’s. I couldn’t help it. I had my version of dressing to impress, and they had theirs.

      When we entered the club, no amount of preparation could have prepared me for what I actually saw. I remember my eyes first being grabbed by the ass cheeks in closest proximity to my reach. They were outlined by a white thong, that glowed from the blacklights set around the dimmed club.

      The cheeks walked pass me in slow motion, riding on top of some beautiful long legs and sexy heels, and they seemed to make the ground shake with them as the jiggled with every step.

      Only after that set had walked it’s way completely out of sight, was I able to see that there were more cheeks outlined in thongs… everywhere.

      It was an international booty fest. I think I was looking at every shade of brown in existence. I saw cute little Asians, spicy Latinas, sexy snowflakes, and bomb ass sistas with ghetto booties that seemed to dominate the room like Godzillas over a small city.

      My eyes slurped at the view like a thirsty dog at a water bowl. My blood pumped like crazy and my mind worked in overtime trying to convince itself that it was really seeing what it was seeing. Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory didn’t have shit on this club.

      All the while, I couldn’t move a muscle. I stared until a bouncer finally broke the hypnosis, asking me to move from the front of the entrance. I somehow floated to a seat right below the stage, surround by my crew who took up a third of the club.

      I stared up at the woman dancing. She seemed so large and powerful in my sight, towering over me in gigantic heels that I had only before seen in porn flicks.

      To all young men: a moment of silent reverence to the internet… we give our thanks for giving us easy access to that which our forefathers had not.

      I looked around, and for the first time I noticed that there were people in the club besides women in thongs.

      One person in particular temporarily grabbed my attention. He was a small, middle-aged, asian man in a business suit, sitting right at the foot of the stage. The architect.

      He was barely even watching the dancer, too busy concentrating on the structure that he was creating. He was taking twenty dollar bills, folding them long ways in three parts, and staking them on the stage like a mini log cabin.

      Only after he had succeeded in building a pretty tall standing tower, did he just sit back, relax, and wait. Then, seemingly on call, the dancer went to him and showered him with attention for the rest of the song.

      That looked like a lot of fucking twenty dollar bills for that little bit of attention.

      After the song was over, she scrapped up all her cash. She crawled around on her hands and knees erotically and gave each man who contributed a thankful smile as she snatched up every bill within her reach.

      She left the stage squeaky clean and all the men alone, except for the architect, who was led to a back room… A back room? I think that was where I wanted to go.

      A new song kicked in and something bright caught my attention. When I turned to see, the sight made me damn near go blind. As I focused my eyes, the glow began to soften and defined something that blew my mind.

      She had the lightest brown skin, of a smooth buttery tint, and it sparkled from the lights that shined on it. She was like a walking diamond, with beauty that should be priceless, but the stage called for money so I put my on it.

      I took a cue from the architect, started making my own cabin, but of course I used one dollar bills. It wasn’t enough to get her attention, as she danced for everyone else but me, till she was stripped down to nothing but clear heels.

      Stacking the tower took too much of my attention away, so I just gave up and threw a bunch of bills on the stage. Within a moment she was in front of me, but her presence was so overpowering that I could only stand to look at her face.

      I could sense the rest of her body working to get all of the attention I was giving to her Carribean Sea green eyes. But I couldn’t budge, I was stuck, mouth gapped open, and scared to look down to what I might be blessed to see between her spread wide thighs.

      She noticed, and gave me a smile like she was planning something naughty. She brought a finger to her lips, licked it, and traced a line down her body. I couldn’t help but follow and she led me to staring right between her thighs. Once I caught sight of her pussy, I couldn’t return back to her eyes.

      My gaze settled between her legs and it couldn’t leave because she was making her pussy move to look like it was blowing kisses at me.

      I had never seen no shit like that before.

      I leaned in closer to get a better look. I had her only inches from my face. I inhaled… and got high of the breath that I took.

      My mind drifted off to somewhere wonderful for just a split second. Her scent… half cherry. She took me there. I saw myself in a Japanese type garden, among blossomed trees raining white petals on me like rain. I let a petal fall on my tongue and it melted like cotton candy in my mouth. I tasted the other half of her scent on my taste buds… vanilla.

      I blinked, and was taken from the garden. The pussy was gone. In its place was a beautiful ass, bent over in front of me. Slowly my hearing turned back on.

      “Slap that shit! She wants you to slap that shit!”

      Huh?... oh… slap that shit.

      I stood up and timidly raised my hand. Damn. Her ass was so plump and round, far too pretty to want to cause harm to. I dropped a little tap. Her booty felt firm under my hand and barely moved.

      “Harder nigga! It’s your birthday! Slap that shit like your ‘pose to,” I heard my boys yelling.

      The ass stayed in front of me. She rolled her hips, drawing circles with it, as if beckoning me, daring me, to really slap that shit.

      Fuck it. I slapped it.

      My hand made a sound hitting her ass that broke through the loud music and could be heard by the whole crowd. With the echo came a quick jello-like jiggle of her firm ass. It was so fucking pretty… but so short. I slapped it again to see that jiggle. Then again. Then again. Harder each time.

      “Yeah nigga!” I heard them screaming excitedly as I immersed myself in slapping her ass. I was all into it, looking happier than a sissy in a weenie factory, slapping her ass to the beat until she suddenly whipped around on me.

      She looked me dead in the eyes. Her cold stare froze me with my hand in the sky. I was midway through the deployment of another slap.

      She crawled to the edge of the stage and pushed me into my seat. I sat like a child, who knew he had done something bad, with no idea what the punishment would be… a spanking would be nice.

      She crawled half-way off the stage, her knees still on it and her hands grabbing hold of the sides of my chair. Then she dipped her head in my lap and, seeing exactly where it was outlined by the thin slack of my pants, locked her teeth onto my hard ass dick.

      Lord have mercy.

      My whole body tensed up and I damn near jumped out of my chair. She flipped her head back and whipped me in the face with her hair. Then smiled playfully before getting back on the stage to crawl away and give somebody else some play.

      “Did you see that,” I yelled, finally able to speak. “Did you see that? She bit my dick!”

      The feeling that I had gotten something special faded real fast, as I watched her do something special for everyone who dropped some cash on her ass.

      I suddenly became uninterested in the whole strip club scene. My mind convinced itself that it wasn’t real and it just wasn’t for me.

      Once she finished, she scraped up her cash just as the other one had. When she looked at me, she made a face like a little child being mad. I realized she was showing me the face I was making. I was pouting like a little boy in the need of attention.

      She motioned me to come closer to the stage with her finger, and mouth to me the words “come here.” My heart jumped a little… well actually it jumped a lot, as I jumped with out of my chair and quickly made myself available to her.

      She placed her hands on my shoulders and pulled me in close as if maybe she might give me a kiss. She missed, passed up my mouth, passed up my cheek, and brought her lips to my ear.

      Out of the grown woman’s mouth came the sweetest, most child-like voice.

      “Please don’t be mad at me daddy,” she cooed.

      I stood there, somewhat confused, as she scraped up the rest of her doe. She kept shooting me quick glances and smiles for reasons I didn’t know. She did that until she disappeared of the stage, removing all evidence that she had ever been there in the place.

      I didn’t have any idea of what to make out of all that. I still stood, trying to come up with some type of interpretation while the next song started and a new girl came out.

      I was completely uninterested in anything she was about to do. I sat back down in my seat, looked over to a door next to the stage labeled “Dancers Only,” and waited.

      A few minutes later, the buttery pecan princess reappeared, reclothed in a careful arrangement of little pink triangles covering here and there and some tall, clear, porno hells. She saw me staring and walked over to me. When she got to where I was sitting she sat right in my lap and wrapped her arms around the back of my neck.

      “Hey daddy,” she spouted in the little girl’s voice.

      My mind race, trying to figure out if this was real or not. I wasn;t used to this kind of attention. Her voice gave everything a dream-like quality where nothing had to make sense, like an adult could have the voice of a child. But I definitely felt the weight of her body in my lap… that felt real, real good, real and good.

      “Is there somewhere we can go to be alone… you know… to talk or something,” I asked, needing to get away from prying eyes.

      “Are you gonna gimme a pwesent?” she asked sweetly, sounding too much like tweety bird, making me feel like Sylvester trying to get a bite out of this poor little canary.

      “I’ll give you anything you want,” I heard my mouth say. I was running on autopilot, my dick taking over and doing any emergency talking for me.

      She escorted me to a backroom behind some curtains. It was a hall lined with more rooms behind curtains. She walked me down the hall and took me into one. There was a bench built along one side, a chair sitting in the middle of the floor facing the bench, and a tissue dispenser built onto the wall.

      She led me to my place on the bench and took her place, ignoring the chair, straddling my lap. She grabbed my hands and placed them at the small of her back, right where it curved into her voluptuous ass.

      I couldn’t believe what I was holding. This was a grown ass woman with hips, and ass, and curves for days. She was on top of me with her legs open and a bend in her back that just said that I could have it my way.

      Discouragingly, once again, out of this grown woman’s mouth came the little child’s voice.

      “Where’s my pwesent?” she fussed. Every time I heard that voice, I got the feeling that nothing around me was real. I didn’t want that feeling. The last thing I had wanted was for the whole thing to turn out to be a dream.

      “Why do you talk like that?” I asked.

      “You don’t like it?” she pouted, while poking out her bottom lip.

      I thought about it. Why would a man be turned on by hearing a child’s voice? I shivered at the thought.

      “I don’t know,” I said, “I think it’s kinda scary.”

      “Okay,” she said in a voice that was suddenly twenty years more mature, “Is this better?”

      “Yeah,” I said with some feeling of relief. Everything got a bit realer. “Much better. You have a beautiful voice.”

      “Why thank you,” she said with a slight drawl that revealed a hint of southern hospitality.

      What followed was a bit of silence. We could hear the music from inside the club but it sounded do far away. We had our own little space in that room but I had no idea what I was supposed to do with it. The silence just made me say what came to mind.

      “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in real life>’

      She laughed at me.

      “Real life huh?” she chuckled with a Colgate smile. Her teeth were the purest white. Every angle of her face was angelic, soft and inviting, just like the feel of her skin under my palms, which I realized I had unconsciously started rubbing over her booty.

      I stopped and pulled my hands away, resting them on the bench. I felt that I had violated something.

      The way she straddled me made it seem like her body was trying to convince me she was horny and hot, like she was full of lust, available to be had by me, my possession, or a million other things she was not.

      I looked in her eyes and there was a completely different image. I saw a lot of things in them but they were all hidden. Anything that meant anything wasn’t available to me. I was paying for a cheap glimpse. Whoever she really was I couldn’t pay to see.

      “What’s wrong?” she asked, seeing in me some confliction.

      “I don’t know… I guess I would just rather get to know you outside of this place.”

      “That’s fine. You can just pay me for a date later,” she informed me casually.

      “What!” I was utterly stunned. “Pay you for a date?”

      “Yeah, everybody has to pay me to date me. I need to know if a man can take care of me. If he can’t even afford my time, he’s not worth my time.”

      My view of her beauty was suddenly plummeting. I didn’t want that, I chose to fight for my idea of her, maybe try to talk some sense into her.

      “You seem like a woman who can already take good care of herself. All you need a man for is to… you know… love you. How will you ever find a man to truly do that if he has to pay you? Love takes risks and all you’re gonna get are men who think they can buy you… and if they think they can buy you, they’ll think they can own you.”

      She looked me over, evaluating me with suspicion in her eyes.

      “How old are you?” she finally asked.

      “18.”

      “You’re only 18?” she said with surprise.

      “Yeah, today’s my birthday.”

      She smiled.

      “You’re kinda cute, but you’re too young to be trying that shit on me. I’m twenty-five, I been around a little longer than you, and I done heard all that game before.”

      “What game?” I said innocently.

      “That game,” she stated with a smile. “What’s your name?”

      “Prince. Yours?”

      “Jade.”

      “Is that your real name?” I interrogated.

      “Is that yours?” she interrogated back.

      “Yeah. It’s what my mom named me.”

      She looked me over again, evaluating me with that same suspicious look in her eyes, while she took her time thinking. Finally her look softened.

      “My real name is Dominique.”

      “Dominique…” I said her name as if it suddenly made everything make sense, as if the reason for her being so beautiful was simply because her name was Dominique.

      “Well Dominique,” I started as if I was amazed at the fact myself, “I don’t know if it’s only because I know it belongs to you, but I swear that’s the most beautiful name I’ve ever heard.”

      She giggled.

      “Why thank you Prince. I guess I kinda like your name too,” she said with a smile and, I think, pretending to look a little bashful.

      “Well, I don’t know, maybe it’s just the way you say it because you make even my name sound better than I’ve ever heard it in that pretty ass accent you got. Where’s that from?”

      “I’m from New Orleans baby,” she said as if she was admitting to something much deeper by those few little words.

      Something about the tone in her voice when she said that told me there was something there, something that she needed to share. I don’t know how to describe it when I hear something said suggestively, like when a statement alone sounds incomplete, like I feel someone kicking me under the table saying “just ask me!”

      “So how long have you been out here in California?” I asked.

      “Not long,” she said, “I just came here after hurricane Katrina.”

      “So you were there for the storm?” I asked interested.

      “Mm-hmm, the whole thing and more,” she said gravely.

      “What was that like?”

      She paused.

      “You don’t really want to get into all this do you?” she asked skeptically.

      “Yeah. I do… I mean but only if you want to tell me.”

      I got her to start talking and she couldn’t stop. She told me about the flood, about how she was stuck waiting on a rooftop for days to get rescued. About how people were eaten by alligators right before her eyes and how many, her parents included, had drowned to death in their own homes.

      She told me about how she had been rescued, only to be taken to a stadium where she was repeatedly raped. Everyone had been packed in there together, people who had lost everything and had no idea what to expect next. Some just couldn’t think pass an immediate fix, and took anything left to be taken, including her.

      Here she did her best to occupy herself away from the trauma but, though I didn’t say, I felt she was only compiling onto it more. The quick hustle and flow of California was a good distraction for her but I felt she was a black girl lost. She admitted to sometimes missing the slower pace of the south and always missed having that large family around who loved her.

      By the time she was finished, her beautiful face was stained with tears. Her eyeliner had run. I tried to wipe it off with my fingers but I caused it to smear. I had to use a little spit and my shirt to clean up her up properly. When she saw the black smudges on my shirt tail, it snapped her out of being sad and she thought about work.

      “Oh shit! What am I doing to my face,” she said as she tilted her head back and began fanning her eyes, trying to put a stop to anymore tears.

      It’s alright,” I said calmly.

      “It’s not alright,” she shot at me with sudden anger. “My face is a mess and… oh my god! I been back here with you all night. I haven’t made any money. I hope you don’t think this was free. Don’t think I forgot that you ain’t gave me no money yet. Ou tryna hustle me boy?”

      “How much do you want,” I said as if any amount was at my disposal. Despite her sudden mood change I was still calm, riding some type of high.

      She stared at me. A few thoughts went through her head She looked at me as if remembering, recognizing me from only moments earlier when she had been sharing her life’s pain. I saw the anger conceding to give up. She sighed as she relaxed and gave in to the calmness I presented so easily.

      “Look, just give me a hundred, cause I have to give them something for being back here with you for so long,” she said mercifully, “but I hope you know you cost me a lot of money tonight.”

      I reached in my pocket for money, embarrassed to find that I had only a large roll of ones left. I must have accidentally thrown the hundred dollar bill on the stage when she had been dancing earlier.

      “I’m sorry… I thought… earlier I had…”

      “Little nigga,” she said as she snatched the roll of chump change out of my hand, leaving me penniless. “Now what if I had charged you more? You’re lucky I’m nice and you’re lucky it’s your birthday. I would let you keep this but I don’t want you going out there and trying to have a good time giving other girls my money.”

      She led me out of the room and to the curtain that led back to the club.

      “I want you to wait for me after closing,” is what I thought I heard her say before she pulled back the curtain and took of running, as best she could on those skyscraper heels, toward the door labeled “Dancers Only.” Then she disappeared.

      I walked back over to my crew. The scene of the club was no longer as amazing as it had once been. In fact, it was disturbing. The harsh lights and loud music tampered with the wonderful natural high I was on after spending so much time alone with the finest woman ever.

      As soon as I took my seat, I was bombarded with questions.

      “Damn nigga, where you been?”

      “Did you fuck?”

      “How much money did you have to spend?”

      I lied a little bit… “Of course I fucked” and “”I’m a pimp, I didn’t have to pay shit.” My answers were met with a lot of skepticism but I promised them they were true and she was meeting me after closing.

      I didn’t realize it, but I had been gone for over three hours and the club would be closing soon. I sat through a few dances, the whole time looking out for Dominique, but she never reappeared from behind those doors.

      Before long, it was over and everybody was piled outside. I paced, silent and anxious, as all my partners conversed over why they were all out waiting in the cold.

      “I just want to see the bitch.”

      “You don’t remember the little red bone broad in the beginning? This nigga was slappin her ass and all the shit.”

      “Oh yeah! That bitch had hella cake.”

      “All I wanna know is if this bitch is gone bring some friends.”

      The crowd outside thinned. All the patrons had left and even the employees were calling it a night. Group by group the bouncers and dancers trickled out and loaded into their cars.

      “Damn nigga, we should just go. This bitch ain’t gone come>”

      “This square ass nigga was lyin. He never pulled the bitch in the first place.”

      “She’ll be here,” I said, worried that I wasn’t telling the truth myself. “Yall don’t have to be here. You ain’t gone do nothing but scare her off anyway.”

      One of my friends got offended. “See Square Bear, that’s why all the bitches treat you like a sucka ass nigga, cause you run around actin like a sucka ass nigga.” He gave up on me and walked away, taking a large group with him.

      “Hey baby!” she said excitedly, giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek and surprising the hell out of me. “Thanks for waiting for me.”

      “No problem,” I said, feeling a big weight lifted off my chest. She looked like a whole other person in jeans and tennis shoes. “You look good in clothes,” I complemented honestly.

      “You like?” she said, throwing her hands up and giving me a little twirl to check her out. It was an outfit that looked like what someone would throw on for a quick trip to the store and the shoes said her feet had had a long day. It was real.

      “I love.” I admitted.

      A couple of her friends came up behind her.

      “So this is the boy you let mess up your make-up?” one said while lighting a blunt. The friends of mine who had chosen to stay finally picked their jaws up off the ground and jumped on her.

      “Hey lil mama, let me hit that blunt… yeah bitch, I’m this… I’m that… whoopty whoop… you need a young nigga like me in your life.”

      Dominique’s friends looked at her like she was crazy. He can’t be anything like his friends, is he? Dominique just shrugged.

      “Walk us to our car Prince,” she suggested, putting her arm in mine and pointing across the street to a black Mercedes.

      Her friends were already half-way across the street, in a rush to get away and leaving my friends with the blunt they didn’t find worthy enough to waste another second talking to them young boys for. We followed behind them to the car.

      “Are those your friends?” Dominique asked, looking a little confused by my company.

      “Uh… yeah.”

      “All of them?”

      “Uh… yeah.”

      “You must be crazy if you thought I was going anywhere with all them niggas.”

      “Knuckleheaded niggas!” one of her friends corrected from the car.

      “Well we can just do our own thing,” I suggested, feeling the greatest opportunity ever starting to slip away.

      “I wouldn’t ask you to leave you boys. Not on your birthday, when they’re the ones who brought you here for me in the first place.” She reached into her bra and pulled out some money. “Here.”

      The hundred dollar bill I had earlier had her name and number written across it in eyeliner.

      “Now you really owe me, so you better call.” She got in her car and closed the door. Her friends passed her another blunt that they had already lit up. “And think about getting yourself some friends a little more like you, cause I don’t have anyone to introduce my friends to and I don’t want them tryna steal what’s mine.”

      They all laughed as they drove off, leaving me holding the bill between my fingers. A head crept over my shoulder and stared down at the bill with me. When I noticed it, it startled me.

      “Daaamn nigga. You got it like that. Lemme see.” He snatched it out my hands. “Ay yall!” he yelled while waving the bill in the air, “we fuckin wit a cold pimp. He got strippers dropping loot on him.”

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