Category: IST

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“I’ll stay right here,” I said. “If that’s alright.”

Jade gave me a long look, half disappointed, half amused. “A talker. Fine. You’re buying.”

So I bought. She drank vodka sodas and told me stories. The regular who brought her a sandwich every Thursday. The stag do who’d tried to pay in Monopoly money. The night a footballer cried on her shoulder for an hour and tipped her a grand. She was funny, sharp and filthy, and she kept her hand on my thigh the whole time.

Every so often she’d get called up to the stage. I watched her climb the pole, hang upside down, slide down into the splits with her eyes on me the entire time. When she came back she was glowing with sweat and smelled amazing.

“You’re still here,” she said, almost surprised.

“I’m still here.”

It got late. The crowd thinned. The DJ started playing slower and slower songs, and the bar staff began stacking chairs. My wallet was lighter and my head was pleasantly fuzzy.

Jade leaned into me, her bare shoulder against my arm.

“You know it’s nearly closing time,” she said. “You could stay till the lights come up. Or you could get out now while you’ve still got cab money.”

Her hand slid a little higher on my thigh.

“Your call, talker.”

→ I stay until the lights come up

→ I call it a night and head out early

← Back

The VIP room was a velvet box with a red bulb and a couch that had seen things. Jade sat me down, then sat herself on the arm of it and picked up a little laminated menu.

“Before we start,” she said, “you should know girls dance better with a bit of champagne in them.”

“How much is champagne?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answered.” She laughed and slid off the arm into my lap, facing me, knees either side of my hips. “Relax. You’ll love it.”

She started moving. Slow rolls of her hips, her pussy pressed through the white sequins right against my cock. She peeled her top off and dropped it on my shoulder. Her tits were full and dark-nippled, a little tattoo of a swallow under the left one. She cupped them and pushed them together an inch from my mouth.

“No touching,” she whispered. “That’s the official rule.”

“And the unofficial one?”

“The unofficial one is that I decide.” She caught my wrists and held them down on the couch, grinding harder, her breath getting quicker. “Some nights I’m strict. Some nights I’m not.”

Then she let go of my wrists and waited, watching me, eyes half-closed, still rolling her hips slow and deep.

My hands were free on the velvet. Her waist was right there. The menu was still on the arm of the couch, champagne at the top in gold letters.

→ I let her set the pace and order the champagne

→ I test the unofficial rule and put my hands on her waist

← Back

“Floor’s fine,” I said. “Let’s start there.”

“Cheapskate.” But she said it fondly, and she stood up, took my hand and walked me to a low chair at the side of the stage.

Out on the main floor everything was visible. Other men in other chairs, other girls in other laps. Scarlett didn’t seem to care. She put one heel on the chair between my legs, right against my crotch, and pressed down just enough to make me suck in a breath.

“Hands on the armrests,” she said. “That’s the rule. You touch, Dez throws you out.”

Dez turned out to be the wardrobe on the door. He gave me a long look across the room. I put my hands on the armrests.

She danced. God, she danced. Slow, close, her lace-covered tits sliding up my chest, her hair falling across my face. She turned and sank down into my lap and ground back against me, arching her back, letting me feel exactly how soft and warm she was.

One song became three. Sixty quid. I didn’t care.

“You’ve got a nice face when you’re trying not to come,” she murmured over her shoulder.

“Is that a thing you can see?”

“It’s my job to see it.” She stood up, flushed and grinning, and tucked a loose strand of red hair behind her ear. “So. Do I get a tip, or do I get to keep you company till close?”

The way she said it, either option sounded like a promise.

→ I tip big and tuck a folded hundred into her garter

→ I stay at the bar and keep her company until close

← Back

I counted out two hundred quid in twenties and tried not to think about the payslip.

The bald man in the suit pulled the curtain aside. Behind it was a corridor of small booths, each with a deep velvet couch, a dim red bulb and a door that didn’t quite close.

Scarlett sat me down in the middle of the couch and stood between my knees.

“Rules,” she said, the smile gone serious for a second. “You don’t touch me. Hands stay on the couch. I can touch you, you can’t touch me. There’s a camera in the corner and Dez on the door, and Dez has no sense of humour.” Then the smile came back. “Other than that, enjoy yourself.”

The song changed. Something slow, all bass.

She turned around and lowered herself into my lap, grinding back against me in a slow figure eight. Her arse pressed right onto my cock through my jeans, and she rolled her hips like she could feel every inch and was taking notes.

Then she stood, reached behind her back, and unhooked her bra. It slid down her arms. She turned around.

Her tits were small and high and perfect, freckled, nipples pink and stiff. She leaned over me, hands on the back of the couch, and let them sway an inch from my face.

“Hands,” she reminded me softly.

My fingers were digging into the velvet. Every part of me wanted to reach up. She was right there, warm, smelling of vanilla and sweat.

→ I keep my hands on the couch and respect the rule

→ I test the rule and rest my hands on her hips

← Back

“I’d better go,” I said. “Before I spend my rent.”

Jade shrugged, kissed my cheek and vanished into the crowd. I don’t think she gave me a second thought. I don’t blame her.

I settled up at the bar, winced at the total, and stepped out of the fire door at the side because it was closer to where I’d parked.

The alley was cold and smelled of bins. And Scarlett, the redhead from earlier, was leaning against the wall in a long coat, smoking.

“Hey,” she said. “Jade’s lost puppy.”

“I’m nobody’s puppy.”

“You sat at the bar for two hours buying her drinks. You’re a puppy.” But she smiled, and held out the cigarette. I shook my head. She took a drag, blew it up at the streetlight. “Twenty minutes left on my break. Freezing out here.”

Her coat was open. Underneath she was still in the black lace and nothing else. Goosebumps on her freckled skin. Nipples hard from the cold.

“You chose her over me,” she said. “I’m not offended. Just saying.”

“I’m regretting it slightly.”

“Only slightly?”

She flicked the cigarette into a puddle and looked at me properly, head tilted, green eyes very awake.

“I’ve got twenty minutes,” she said, “and I’m bored and cold. You could stay out here and keep me warm. Or you could go home to your sad empty flat.”

→ I stay out in the alley with her

→ I say goodnight and drive home

← Back

I stayed.

The lights came up at two, white and merciless. The music cut off. The magic drained out of the place like bathwater, and suddenly it was a large room with a sticky floor and a lot of very tired women in fluffy robes.

Dez started moving people toward the door. I stood to go.

Jade caught my wrist.

She’d changed into ripped jeans and a huge cardigan, hair scraped up in a clip, her stage makeup half wiped off. Without the sequins she looked softer. Twenty-nine and knackered.

“Hey, talker,” she said. “My real name is Priya.”

“Owen.”

“I know. You told me four times.” She smiled. “Listen. I don’t do this. Ever. But you sat with me for five hours and never once tried anything, and you listened to all my rubbish, and I’m wide awake.”

“Okay.”

“My flat’s ten minutes away. I’ve got a bottle of wine and a sofa.” She looked at her boots. “And I’ve got a lot of practice at lap dances that I never get to finish properly.”

Dez cleared his throat from the door, loudly.

“No pressure,” Priya said quickly. “You can say no. I’ll still see you Friday.”

My heart was going like a drum. I had maybe forty quid left and a job centre appointment on Tuesday. I also had a gorgeous woman holding my wrist, looking at me like she meant it.

→ I go back to her flat with her

→ I thank her and say I should get home

← Back

I put my hands on her waist. Slowly, giving her time to stop me.

She didn’t stop me.

“There you go,” she murmured. “Brave boy.”

Her skin was warm and smooth, the gold chain cool under my fingertips. She kept grinding, and I let my hands move with her, feeling the muscles of her hips roll under my palms. She glanced up at the camera in the corner, then back at me, and shifted just slightly so her back blocked its view.

“Camera can’t see your hands now,” she said. “But Dez checks the tips at the end of the night. Bad tippers get the strict version next time.”

“Is that a hint?”

“It’s a menu.” She took one of my hands and slid it up her ribs until my thumb brushed the underside of her breast. She shivered. “This bit costs extra.”

She rocked against me, harder now, her pussy dragging along my cock through two thin layers of fabric. Her breathing had changed. Her eyelids fluttered. I didn’t think it was all acting.

“Fuck,” she whispered. “You’ve got a nice cock. I can feel it.”

My heart was hammering. Her nipple was hard against the edge of my thumb. Every roll of her hips pushed me closer to the edge.

She leaned in until her lips were on my ear.

“So what’s it going to be, Owen? You going to be a good tipper? Or are you going to try and talk me into something?”

→ I tip big and let her keep riding me

→ I ask her to come home with me instead

← Back

“Champagne it is,” I said.

Jade beamed and pressed a buzzer on the wall. A waitress appeared with a bottle in an ice bucket and two flutes, and put a little leather folder on the side table. I didn’t open it.

Jade poured, handed me a glass and clinked it. Then she drank half of hers, set it down and went back to work.

And she worked. She turned around and bent over in front of me, slowly peeling her sequinned knickers down to her knees and back up again. She rubbed her arse against my crotch. She lay back across my lap and arched, tits in the air, and let champagne dribble down between them.

“Oops,” she said.

I didn’t touch her. She hadn’t told me I could.

She refilled her glass. She danced. She refilled again. She sat on my lap and whispered filthy things about what she’d do to me if the rules were different, and I was so hard it hurt. Every time I thought she was about to let me touch, she’d laugh and slide away.

The bottle emptied. The buzzer went.

“That was fun,” Jade said, pulling her top back on. “You’re sweet.”

“Can I see you again?”

“You can see me every Friday.” She slid the leather folder into my lap. “Settle up at the bar, babe.”

I opened the folder. Then I kept looking at it. And then I looked at her, still pulling her heel straps tight, totally unbothered.

→ I pay the bill without arguing

→ I tell her honestly I can’t afford it

← Back

“I’ll keep you company,” I said. “If you’ll have me.”

“I’ll have you,” Scarlett said, and took the stool next to mine.

She worked, of course. She got called up to the stage and danced two sets, and went off to do a couple of floor dances for a lad on a stag do. But every time she finished she came back to me, sat down, stole a sip of my drink and picked up our conversation exactly where we’d left it.

We talked about everything. Her nursing placements. My useless ex. The fact that she’d never once seen the sea up close. Her knee pressed against mine the whole time, and every so often her hand landed on my thigh and stayed there.

At half one, the DJ called last orders. At ten to two, the lights came up, harsh and white, and the magic of the place vanished. Suddenly it was just a big room with sticky carpet and tired women in robes.

Scarlett had changed into a hoodie and leggings. She looked about five years younger and somehow even better.

“Okay,” she said. “Confession. I don’t usually do this.”

“Do what?”

“I’m parked round the back. I could drop you home.” She bit her lip. “Or there’s a twenty-four-hour diner on Station Road, if you’re hungry.”

Dez was watching us from the door, arms folded.

“Or,” Scarlett added, “you could just get a cab and we pretend this was a nice night and nothing else.”

→ I take the lift home in her car

→ I say I’ll meet her at the diner

← Back

I peeled a hundred off the roll, folded it lengthwise and tucked it slowly under the lace garter on her thigh.

Scarlett looked down at it. Then at me. Her eyebrows went up.

“Well,” she said. “Somebody’s having a better week than he let on.”

“I’m not. That’s sort of the point.”

She laughed, properly, head back. Then she put two fingers in her mouth and whistled across the room. “Jade! Get over here.”

Jade came over, sequins glittering, with a look like she’d been expecting this. Scarlett whispered in her ear. Jade looked me up and down and smiled slowly.

“He tips like that on the floor?” Jade said.

“On the floor,” Scarlett said.

“Then he deserves both of us.” Jade sat on the arm of my chair and ran a long nail down my chest. “Here’s the deal, big spender. VIP room. The pair of us. Half an hour. Four hundred.”

Scarlett perched on the other arm. “We put on a very good show together,” she said, and leaned across me and kissed Jade on the mouth, slow, with tongue, right in front of my face.

My brain short-circuited. My cock was trying to climb out of my jeans.

I had about three hundred in cash left. And a credit card that I had a feeling was very close to its limit.

“Cash or card, babe?” Jade asked sweetly.

→ I hand over every bit of cash I have left

→ I hand over my credit card