The Trashy Virgin(27)

My mouth fell open. Really? Unless she had some kind of trust fund, I  didn't see how any eighteen year-old could afford this school.

But Lauren just shook her head.

"I dance, Mel," she stated. Seeing my look of confusion, she clarified. "I'm a stripper at the Donkey Club in the City."

Donkey Club? Which city? What was she talking about?

Sighing, she began to explain.

"You know how I disappear every weekend to see my boyfriend up at NYU?  Well, I go up to New York City  …  but it's not because I have a  boyfriend," she said. "I'm a stripper at a joint up there called the  Donkey Club. It's not one of the high-end places, but there's a niche  for "school girl cream," as they like to call it."

"In fact, I often bring a lot of Trinity gear up with me, and that's my  routine," she said. "My spiel is that I'm a Trinity co-ed, wearing a  Trinity bikini and skirt, and it all comes off over the course of a few  minutes."

My mouth hung open. It was true that Lauren owned a ton of Trinity gear  but I'd never suspected that it was a costume and props. I'd just  figured she had a lot of school spirit.

But I could kind of see it. Lauren was blonde and gorgeous with a  worldly, experienced air. Guys would love seeing her on-stage, parading  that perfect bod.

Plus, she could pull it off. I'd never questioned that she had a  long-term boyfriend in New York whom she visited every weekend. It fit  in perfectly with her mature demeanor, the sophisticated way she smoked  cigarettes and seemed to know everything already, despite the fact we  were both freshmen.         

     



 

I took a deep breath and decided not to beat around the bush.

"Do you think the Donkey Club would have room for someone like me?" I'd asked, trying to be brave.

Lauren looked me up and down, taking in my riotous brown hair, curvy shape and alabaster skin.

"I know they do," she replied confidently. "Come with me next weekend, and you'll pull in the big bucks, I promise."





CHAPTER FOUR


Melanie




This was turning out to be a bad idea. When we'd arrived at the club, the bouncer had eyed us skeptically.

"IDs," he ground out.

"Please," said Lauren haughtily, tilting her perfect ski-slope nose.  "Don't you remember me from last weekend? I dance here, I've already  been vetted by management."

"I don't care if you're fucking Mother Teresa," said the big black guy. "So long as you're twenty-one."

But he seemed to recognize her and with a sigh, pulled the velveteen  curtain back. We sashayed in, Lauren with the air of a queen, me like a  mouse trying to find my bearings.

"Stand up straight!" she hissed. "Arch your back! Look glamorous!"

I did as she asked, trying not to feel self-conscious and shy. But of  course, that was impossible. The Donkey Club itself was not a vote of  confidence. A dirty low-slung bar took up most of the space, with three  poles in the center, spotlights of gold highlighting the dancers  wriggling and twisting. Peanut shells littered the floor and the  clientele weren't exactly the cream of the crop. I could see a couple  missing teeth, some sunburns, steel-toed boots and cowboys hats all  around.

"Where do these guys come from?" I asked with wonderment. We were on the  west side of Manhattan, in the middle of a concrete jungle, surrounded  by skyscrapers and guys in thousand-dollar suits. Where did they find  these rednecks?

But Lauren just shrugged. "Listen, the customers pay and that's what  we're here for right? We can't dance at the bigger clubs because they  want girls to work three or four nights a week and we're not local."  That was true. We'd taken the bus up from Virginia and it'd been a  hellish eight-hour ride, cramped and stuffy.

Plus, I needed the money and was willing to do what it took. I followed  Lauren to the back room, where she knocked before opening the door with a  proprietary air. A seedy looking dude in an ill-fitting suit looked up,  his hand stilling suspiciously beneath his desk, hastily switching off  his computer. No doubt he'd been stroking himself to some porn.

"Ralph," said Lauren silkily. "This is my friend Melanie. You know how  Renata quit last week? Well, I figured Mel could fill in on the ‘Dirty  Co-eds' video."

What video? Lauren had explained that we'd be stripping, but not that we'd be filmed. What the hell?

"You know that new video Jack Strike is filming?" continued Lauren. "Mel  would be perfect for Girl 2, you know the one that gets taken for the  first time."

Now I definitely had to interrupt. This didn't sound like stripping at  all, it sounded more like porn. But Lauren glared at me and made a  subtle gesture with her hand, rubbing her forefingers against her thumb.  Oh right, I needed money and didn't want to ruin my chances before we'd  even begun. Grinding my teeth, I vowed to confront her about this  unexpected development as soon as we left New York.

But Ralph leaned back in his chair, so much I thought he might fall over  backwards. He gave us a sleazy smile and looked me up and down.

"Strike's in LA, but he told me to collect audition videos from girls who came in," he said. "You got one?" he nodded my way.

"Um," I stuttered. Of course I didn't have an audition tape, I wasn't  looking to be a professional in the adult entertainment industry.

"No, she doesn't," cut in Lauren quickly. "But let's film one now, it'll be easy," she said.

"Sure," replied Ralph, swiveling his laptop around to face us. "I got a  camera embedded here, just start taking it off when you're ready."

I turned to Lauren, my mouth open, shocked eyes wide. What was I  supposed to do? But she merely pressed a dildo into my hand and  whispered out of the corner of her mouth, "Fuck yourself with it, don't  worry, no one's going to see except the producer."

And I turned back to the camera. Ralph leered and gave me a go sign,  indicating that he was already recording. Shit, shit! I didn't want to  do this, but I needed the tuition money so badly that I started to  dance. My face flushed and I looked at Lauren pleadingly for guidance,  but she just nodded and gestured frantically with her hands.

"Keep going!" she mouthed. "Waggle your hips, bounce your butt a little," she said, miming the actions.

And I closed my eyes, utterly humiliated, but with no choice. Slowly, I  edged the trench coat off my shoulders. Per my roomie's instructions,  I'd worn a tiny black bra and panties with high, high heels, showing off  my curvy hips, big boobs, the stilettos lengthening my legs.         

     



 

Ralph gave a wolf whistle, calling out, "Show some tit, work it baby!"

Oh fuck, I knew I was going to be bad at this, but kept my eyes closed  and pretended that I was alone on a desert island with a handsome, dark  stranger. Make that two handsome, dark strangers with penetrating blue  eyes. They were licking me here, licking me there, touching my breasts  …   and I pinched my nipple, pretending it was them. Ohhh! That felt good.

Getting into it, I lifted my tits out of my bra cups and suckled one,  pushing the puffy nipple in my mouth. Goddamn if I didn't hear Ralph  unzip his fly, no doubt starting up the hand job again.

But I ignored him and kept suckling, swaying my hips sensually for the  camera. Turning around, I bent over and pushed my ass back, my cheeks  barely covered by the wisp of lace. Tantalizingly, I ran a finger up and  down the rim of my underwear, pulling it to the side for a flash of my  cunny, a glimpse of that steamy pink flesh. Teasingly, I dropped the  cloth back in place, looking over my shoulder at the camera and letting  out a low moan of arousal.

"Ohhhh," I murmured, licking my lips, the pink plushness enticing.

Slowly, I picked up the dildo Lauren had given me and took a long, slow  lick before forming a perfect "O" and delicately inserting the tip in my  mouth. I let my tongue trail around the bulbous head, kissing and  massaging the soft rubber, before sliding it down my throat, taking it  deep.

I thought I heard Lauren squeal with shock from my dirtiness. Yeah, I  know I come across as a nice, conservative brunette, but I'm pretty  slutty on the inside and have practiced a lot on cucumbers, zucchini and  squash  …  pickles are my personal favorite.

Slowly, I fucked my throat with the dildo, getting the toy massively  wet, the soft rubber head visibly running down my throat as Ralph and  Lauren watched with amazement. Then with a wet sucking sound, I pulled  it out, and sat myself down on the couch facing the camera, knees  spread, this time hooking a finger around my panties to sweep the crotch  aside.

"Like it big boy?" I asked, addressing the screen. Of course, the screen  was black but I knew how these things worked. Bring the customer into  the scene, right? Make them feel like they're right there with you.

Pulling my knees up so that my pussy was fully exposed, I reached down  with two fingers and held my labia apart, pulling the soft flesh so that  the lens could zoom into my pink pussy. My vulva was steamy and moist,  my inner channel a hot pink, dripping with fluid and even pulsing a bit,  beating with my arousal.