Personal Stripper Novels & Stories

He whined, running his hands through his balding head. Stripping down to fancy underwear and dancing for hundreds of strangers every night was bad enough. Now I had to do it in the VIP section with the worst perverts of all? I heard that the men in the VIP section are allowed to touch or even molest strippers and that thought sent a shiver down my spine. "Mr. Cox, listen to.." "Alright, alright... 200 bucks and that's final." He grumbled, before lighting a cigarette. I let out a frustrated sigh, knowing fully well that I needed the money. I lived with my deadbeat father and younger brother of 9 years, who depended solely on my income. Our rent was due, and I also needed the money to pay up s

Kylee said waving him off. “For a stripper, you're really picky." The man said and his eyes scanned her, observing her clothes for the first time. A stripper?. When did Kylee, business woman turn to a stripper. I looked at her and the story forged in my head. She's a very busy woman, she has dedicated her life to her work and the help it brings to the world. She doesn't want commitment, so now boyfriends or even lovers. She poses as a stripper at night when she has spare time anf she fucks with whoever is willing to get the steam off her.

The stripper's hand reached for Dianne's wet pussy and slide two of her fingers in before bringing them out and she caressed her wet pussy "Hmmm," Dianne moaned as sucked and massaged her breast even more. The stripper left Dianne on the bed causing her to frown at her. She was about to protest when the stripper reached for the door and opened it. Dianne wondered what she was doing until she saw another beautiful lady come in. She was wearing black panties and a black bra. Dianne sat up on the bed before watching the two girls begin touching themselves. She licked her lips as her eyes bore holes in them. While one was dressed with her panties and her bra, the other had only her panties on.

It was a heavy task that she had upon herself, but she wasn't complaining at all, as she was comfortable with it. Well, she had been looking for a job ever since she came to town, but no company was ready to take her, as they all had one complain or the other and this got her pissed. She was searching online one day, when she saw the offer, that a kingpin club, needed a good stripper and a fighter as well for $8000 per week.

Tasha remembered to ask. "He's fine." The disinterest in Patricia's voice didn't escape Tasha's sharp ear. Her eyes squinted. "Anyways, you probably need to know what kind of work I do," Tasha stated before drinking her orange juice. "I'm a stripper, and I provide satisfaction to a lot of men. So you would probably see different men wake up in my bed every day. Don't be scared, and they're all nice." The way Tasha told Patricia about her work, it's like a regular business discussion.

This was all I could do to support her. "I had nowhere to go and then a friend from high-school invited me to join as a stripper in a strip club with her." I battled a surge of shock as I held her closer. "The job was dirty but the pay was handsome. The strippers could keep all the tips and if they wished then they could personally entertain the customers as prostitutes and take sixty percent of the sum by the end of the day."

He was a pervert being in a strip club, the son of a billionaire himself, he was supposed to be at his father's company meeting, here he was, enjoying himself in a strip club and staring at a girl dancing her ass in a pole, just because he was bored at the meeting. The stripper had a black ponytail, hairdo and several rather simple tattoos, a row of stars scattered across her belly and neck and a small cupid on her left breast. Her dance moves were slow and sensual, and it was clear she loved her work. She was wearing a red jean vest, tied in the front, semi-transparent and glittering in the dim light of the nightclub, a red bra, daisy dukes, black thigh-high boots and a mesh pantyhose. She

I could hear the pride and care in his voice as he said this to me, I wonder what he had thought about me. People generally have this view that every stripper is a prostitute as well. Sometimes it is so hard to convince a client that there is a huge difference between stripping and prostitution, and sometimes, even after listing down the differences and explaining them vividly, they still won’t believe you because that mentality is too hard to change. A stripper is considered an entertainer/dancer. A prostitute sells sexual favors for money. Most sex workers just aren’t trained to be strippers. They lack the skills and overall flexibility needed to be a great stripper. In the most traditiona

That I couldn't get paid anywhere else. There I stood rubbing my ass up and down the pole stripping from my firewoman playout fit. Tonight was " acting night" and every stripper had to play the role of a naughty girl at work. I was wearing a very short blue and yellow skirt that exposed my blue thong and my shirt was bright red for fire it barely covered my huge breasts. I slowly unbuttoned each button and then I bent down opening my legs widely to the crowd. They all screamed as they saw my pussy half exposed, They love it.

And the longer I stayed silent, the more dangerous it became, not just for me. For Nico. For Luca. I stopped pacing and stared at my reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back looked composed, put together, nothing like the storm unraveling inside her. “Hello Luca, before I became Nico’s Nanny, I was a stripper” No too straight forward. “Luca, you know we all have jobs before we get to another one, right? Well I was a stripper” arghh too unserious. “Luca, I have to tell you something, I was a stripper,” too serious.