[Plot] Amateur Night

Authors Note
The previous chapter is a hub for the adventures of Dean and Heather, stories that all take place before this chapter. I will be writing more as they come to me, so keep an eye out for updates back there as well as up ahead.

Neon lights sizzled in the cool night air; glowing promises of live nude girls, exotic dancers, lap dances and private rooms. XXX waited inside. Tits and ass. Bare pussy. Dean Cassidy was familiar with the establishment; The Palace. It wasn't a classy joint, but it wasn't a dive. Just a small strip club with stages for rent and girls living off of tits and tips.

On that night things were a bit different. The Palace wasn't to feature just working girls dancing for their livelihood. It was amateur night. For two prime time hours the main stage was reserved for girls who had never danced there before. Girls looking to experience something new, to show off what their mothers gave them or break into the industry, to expose themselves to a darkened room of strange eyes.

Dean had one such girl on his arm.

Heather, his daughter, had turned eighteen only a few months earlier and reconnected with her estranged father. The two spent their summer swimming, camping, driving around and staying home, bonding in ways few ever did. The highschool grad had also grown into a fervent exhibitionist and enthusiastic butt slut. She felt excitement when exposing herself in public, delight feeling cock in her ass and beautiful when letting strangers cum on her face. Her father had been with her almost every step of the way, having taken her anal virginity and encouraging her to show off her athletic young body.

Now, at the Palace, as summer came to an end, a man brought his daughter to amateur night at his favorite strip club. Her supple flesh was covered by yoga pants and a crop top, but the bag at her side carried something a bit more risque for her coming performance.

"IDs." Said the bouncer.

"My daughter and her companions don't need to show ID." Said the nascent god.

The pair entered the Palace to find the front desk.

"Tonights cover charge is twenty dollars for the public and free of charge for amateur dancers."

The hostess was a petite woman in her late twenties. Blonde and pink hair in a messy bun, C cup breasts exposed by a cupless corset, shear lace panties, garter with stockings and high heels. She was cute and sexy, alluring, a little taste of what was inside. Encouragement to not be driven off by the cover charge.

"Twenty for me, ten for you, and nothing for my daughter. She's dancing tonight."

The hostess was shocked by the plain admittance but found herself incapable of doing anything about it.

"I- err- well ok then. Um. Thank you for the tip De- Mr. Cassidy, your uh, your daughter, can head back stage at eight thirty. The amateurs take the main stage at nine."

He gave her a wink as he led his daughter through a curtain and into the club proper. It was a space typical of strip clubs. Open and dark with booths lining the walls, a stage at one end of the room, a bar at the other and tables filling the space in between. There was another curtain on the far wall leading to the VIP room with it's own small stage and a series of booths for more private, personal lap dances.

Father and daughter slid into a booth near the stage. The club was moderately busy, but by the time nine rolled around it was bound to be packed.

"Dad, that woman at the front. She knew you by name."

"Ah, yeah. I'm a regular here and one of the few people who think to tip the hostess. That makes me pretty memorable."

"She almost called you Dean."

"Well, yeah. Kristine and I have hooked up a couple times. She's one of the few people here that knows my real name."

"Your real name?"

"I don't exactly tell every stripper, waitress and bartender I'm Dean Cassidy, founder and owner of Cassidy Customs. I usually just go by Hank."

"Hank?"

Dean shrugged. "I pulled it off the top of my head one night. No idea why..."

"Hey Hank!"

A waitress had approached the booth. She was slim in body but busty in chest. Like the hostess she wore lingerie and a corset, though her breasts were covered so as not to distract from the dancers. Dean ordered drinks for himself and his daughter before turning to more serious matters.

"Heather, pumpkin, this summer has been great. A few months ago I never thought I'd be able to reconnect with you, but now..."

"Now you get to fuck me."

"Well, yes, that was unexpected. But now we need to think about your sister."

Heather slumped in her seat, gave her father a frown, closed her eyes and tapped into the divine connection her father had blessed her with.

"She's fine. Frustrated. Impatient. Annoyed. But fine. Do we really need to track her down?"

Dean squeezed his daughters thigh. It was a firm grip meant to emphasize his message.

"I know you two haven't always gotten along. But from what I hear she suffered under your mother just as much as you did. It wasn't the same kind of suffering, but it was there."

"But she isn't even your real daughter..."

He squeezed more firmly.

"I raised Stacy. Taught her to walk. To read. I fought for her and for you when the whore stopped pretending to be a good wife and mother. I don't care if she isn't my blood and I don't care if I haven't seen her in twelve years. She's my daughter and your sister. Don't you miss her?"

Heather could not help but answer honestly. "Well... yes. We- I mean, I love her. I was always jealous of her looks and the attention she got from men and the special treatment she got from mo- the whore. And I always thought it wasn't fair that she didn't even like the special treatment. The whore would give Stacy everything and she would just refuse it or throw it away and there I was completely ignored, **** for someone to..."

"I love you pumpkin." Dean kissed the top of her head. "Tomorrow morning I'll use my power to let you track her. We'll find Stacy and at the very least clear up all the lies. Sound good?"

Heather nodded.

"Alright. That's all for tomorrow, but we should focus on tonight. You're stripping on stage!"

"Yeah, yeah I am." The teenager couldn't help but smile. "It's going to be different than flashing. I mean, there's no risk. I can't get in trouble for doing it. But at the same time that means I don't have to worry or hold back, I can just go."

Dean looked around the club, it was starting to fill up. Amateur night always packed the Palace.

"I don't think you've ever exposed yourself to a crowd this large. Everyone is going to be looking at you exclusively and, well..." He gestured to the lighting. "...at best you might be able to make out the guys sitting right at the stage on perv row."

"Are you going to be on perv row?"

"Front and center."

One round of drinks later

"That's an ass made for eating, you can't say otherwise. Those cheeks, this face."

"I didn't think you saw other women that way."

"Well, I mean, I have girl friends. We've experimented..."

Father and daughter gawked at the stripper on stage. She was bottom heavy with wider hips and an abundance of booty.

"...don't get me wrong, I like cock. I like cum. But some girls can be awfully pretty..."

Heather's hand found itself in her fathers lap, toying with the thick bulge in his pants.

"Careful there pumpkin, I've been on edge for a while."

She smiled and fumbled with his belt before popping his cock free. Nine inches of thick fuck meat, hot and pulsing, hidden under the table of their booth. The girl slid down to join the object of her affection. Were they in a well lit sports bar everyone would have seen her kneeling between her fathers legs, but the darkness of the club and focus of lights on stage made for deep shadows that hod her incestuous desires.

First she kissed him, working his head between her lips and flicking his tip with her tongue. Then she leaned forward, slowly, steadily taking him down to the base. His musk filled her nostrils, his tool filled her mouth and throat. She pulled back until he was just about out, then rammed herself forward. Again, then again, Deans spongy flesh slammed into the back of Heathers throat. If not for the loud music the distinct sounds of an enthusiastic blow job would have been plainly audible to the growing crowd around them.

There came a saltiness in her mouth, a taste she had come to recognize and appreciate. Heather pulled back from her fathers cock and looked up from under the table.

"Don't cum too quickly. I'd like to have a bit more fun before I go." She crawled back into the booth and whispered into his ear. "I want you in me."

Heather slid into her fathers lap. His sausage, the thick fuck stick she had grown to love, she rubbed her ass against it. A hidden lap dance in the darkened booth. She pulled at the back of her leggings, tugging at the stretchy fabric to expose her firm backside and high cut thong. The rubbing continued skin on skin to slicken the teen with spit and traces of cum. Heather looked around to find all eyes on a girl spinning down the pole, no attention paid to the barely legal teen grinding her ass into her fathers lap. She hooked her thumbs into the band of her underwear, pulled it down and once again rocked her hips. Her virgin pussy, hot and hungry, sopping wet with desire, slid along the length of her father's cock.

"You little slut..." Dean took her hip in one hand and his cock in the other. "...you're just an anal whore, aren't you? A little butt slut."

"Mmm hmm..." She repositioned to let her father press the slickened tip of his cock against her ass hole. "I'm your little princess whore. Your nasty little girl..." The pressure against her anus grew as she was slowly penetrated. "...I love exposing myself in public..." Her body cavity stretched to accommodate her fathers shaft. "...I love letting strangers cum on my face..." She leaned back against her fathers chest. "...but most of all, I love feeling my daddy's cock inside me."

Heather looked up and over her shoulder to find her father looking down on her. With little warning he kissed her, a passionate kiss that quickly led to tongue. The girl gave in to desire and returned the gesture, making out heavily with her father while grinding her ass against his hips and enjoying the fullness that his cock gave her.

"Fuck, daddy, I- I want you in my-"

"Hi Hank!"

The waitress had returned and paused. From where she stood she couldn't tell Heather's bottoms had been pulled down in the back but it was still obvious the pair were getting intimate. Still, she had made them a promise.

"I- um, sorry to interrupt, but it's eight thirty. The back room is open to amateurs and the stage is available first come first serve. So, uh, if your friend is going to dance tonight..."

Dean planted a hand on his daughters chest and started groping, Heather continued to grind herself in her fathers lap.

"Thanks for letting us know, I'll be moving down to the stage when she heads back."

The waitress left the pair.

"I'm close daddy, I'm so close..."

Dean could barely hold on. He had already cum a bit from the blowjob and it took all his effort to not explode.

"...daddy..."

Heather started bouncing in his lap, fucking her ass with her fathers cock. She moaned. She groaned.

"...daddy fuck me. Plea- ah, please daddy, pump me full of cum..."

Dean lost all control. His balls tightened and his cock burst inside his little girls slutty ass. She didn't stop riding him, didn't stop fucking, not until her anus clenched around her fathers dick and a shudder passed through her body.

Slowly, the teenager lifted herself from her father's shaft. When it popped free of her well used ass she slid back under the table. From tip to base, around the head and under flared rim, Heather licked and sucked her fathers softening tool. She cleaned him as best she could with her tongue, savoring the taste of him and herself, squeezing out a few more drops of cum.

"You'd better get going." Dean watched a few young women from the crowd head back stage. "You don't want to wait too long and I still need to find a good seat."

The teen crawled back out and took her bag.

"Alright. I'll see you after the performance. Love you."

"I love you too pumpkin."

On perv row

"It's fifteen to nine and we've got one more dancer before the amateurs take the stage. Put your hands together for one of the Palaces favorite girls; Velvet!"

She was one of Deans favorite girls too.

Velvet burst out in stiletto heels as the music started. With each step a plaid miniskirt swished around her hips to give tantalizing glimpses of black lace. Her chest. Her chest! It was the stuff of legend, what dreams were made of. F cup breasts spilling out from a lacy bra, itself barely concealed by a white shirt tied off at her front. A plaid tie plunged down from her neck, lost in the depths of her cleavage. Pouty lips, piercing blue eyes and flowing blonde hair topped off the package of pure sex that was Velvet.

The slutty schoolgirl strut her stuff to the pole and did a casual spin. She made sure to raise one leg and let her skirt flare, to give her audience a peak at her juicy ass. Her follow up was a spread; with her feet together and back to the pole she lowered herself into a squatting position, her knees parted wide, her miniskirt dipping only enough to cover the top half of her lacy treasure.

Dean couldn't take his eyes off her; not that night, not any night prior. Velvet stirred something inside him that he was never fully aware of. A sexual nostalgia. A yearning for the lost pleasures of his youth. He felt like a teenager whenever he saw her dance, like the years of heartache, depression and betrayal were all a dream. As she climbed her pole his vigor was restored. As she slid back down his bitterness was suppressed.

Velvet pulled at the knot in her shirt to let it fall open to the whistles and hollers of the crowd. It was then that she saw him front and center; Hank, her favorite club goer. It wasn't just his gentlemanly attitude or his generosity that drew her to him. There was something about him that set him apart from the others. The stripper dropped to her hands and knees and crawled towards him. There was something about him that made her feel safe. Her eyes narrowed. She licked her lips. The anger and dysfunction of her youth shrank away under his discerning gaze. Her massive mammaries swayed beneath her, threatening to escape the black lace that held them in check.

The exotic dancer swung around to lay on her side as she reached the object of her desire. She lifted her skirt and slapped her ass. He stared. He grinned. He wanted to see more, she could tell. She resolved herself to satisfy the man who made the past few years vanish from her mind. First she came to her knees facing away from her hunky Hank. Then she bent over and wiggled her astonishing ass. Black lace was slowly peeled down long legs. Velvet left the garment around her knees and reached back to spread herself for him. He cheered. The crowd cheered. She then crawled along the edge of the stage, posing, teasing, giving glimpses to the other men sitting up front.

Velvet continued her set with more pole work. Every time she spun, every time she climbed and especially every time she inverted herself, her bits were flashed. The miniskirt barely covered her, not that it was ever meant to, and did a fair job keeping the audience entranced.

The big tittied blonde faced away from her admirers. Slowly, sensually, she reached back and undid the clasp on her back. A sultry look came over her shoulder as one strap fell. Then fell the other. Then fell her bra. She spun on her heel and approached the pole, hands pressing against her bountiful bosum, covering what they could of her freed flesh. She pulled her tits apart and wrapped them around the pole.

Again, the young woman lowered herself into a squat. The short strip of plaid fabric rose from spreading thighs, only a metal pole blocked ones view of her pussy. She bounced up and down, tit fucking the pole for her audience. Then came a lick, a smile and a press. Velvet released her breasts to reveal their perfect tear drop shape and olive nipples. Then came some more pole work. With her breasts freed there was more for her to play with, more for her to tease with. Her miniskirt was dropped while spinning down the pole.

Velvet wore only stiletto heels and a short plaid tie that still managed to lose itself between her heavy, heavenly tits. For a few minutes more the nude dancer continued her work.

Dean had enjoyed the set. Velvet had shown good pole work and done a number on the crowd, but nine o'clock had come before she could worry about getting tips from the men sitting stage side. He knew it didn't matter, not to her. The blonde bombshell made most of her cash giving lap dances and private shows, the stage work was more to advertise and entice.

And he was enticed.

Backstage

Heather put the finishing touches on her outfit. It was a fun ensemble she hoped would make her stand out from the other amateurs.

"Nine o'clock, first up!"

The last professional dancer back and changing on the opposite side of the room, it was time. A few other girls had gotten backstage before her, the sporty teen would have to wait her turn.

She thought about her father and what she had almost asked him in the booth. The heat hadn't left her. She couldn't help but rub her thighs together, to put pressure on her virgin pussy. Desire flowed through her, a hunger, a thirst, a need to feel the fullness of her fathers cock inside her. She wanted him to take her, to fuck her, to make a proper woman of her. Not a damn was given for what people would think. Not what Amber would think. Not Stacy either.

Stacy...

Heathers mind drifted to her older sister. Half sister. It had been two years since she'd stormed out, never to be seen or heard from again. The sporty teen again tapped into her divinely granted sense. She could feel her sister, she could tell how Stacy was doing.

There was an easiness to her, a calmness that wasn't there earlier in the evening. Something had changed to make her more relaxed. There was also a little apprehension, but also excitement, like she was about to meet someone important.

The teen shook her head, cleared her thoughts. Stacy was doing all right, what she needed to focus on was her upcoming performance.

Perv Row

Velvet took to the floor a few acts into the amateurs time slot.

The stripper wore a sheer white bra and matching panties that gave subtle hints of what they covered. A garter belt and stockings highlighted her long legs and led down to the same stilettos she had worn on stage. Her deep blue eyes focused on one man, a man she had danced for several times, a man she had thought of while touching herself, a man whose name she had once cried out in bed. Hank.

Velvet knew his name wasn't really Hank, but she didn't mind; her name wasn't really Velvet. Whoever he was, she was attracted to him. There was a wrongness in wanting him that she couldn't ignore and couldn't help but love feeling. The man seemed almost forbidden...

"Mind if I sit?" She didn't wait for an answer before sitting across Hanks lap.

"That was a great show. Are you up again tonight?" One hand supported the small of her back, the other found it's way to her thigh.

"After the amateurs are done. Until then I have plenty of time to kill. What's say we ditch stage side and find some place more private..." She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him and whispering into his ear. "...I'm feeling pretty wild and you're my favorite customer. I'm sure we could get up to no good..."

A hand slid down her back to cup her ample ass.

"And here I thought you were a good girl. I'd never break the rules..."

"Bullshit." She smiled and laughed, they both knew what rules they'd break. Hank had gotten more than a bit frisky before, not that Velvet had ever minded.

The blonde could feel a throbbing against her ass. A heat from the thick stick she had sat on and even groped time and again. Always through fabric, always concealed. She had always wanted to see what Hank was packing and that night, under the distraction of the amateurs, she was willing to peek and play. Bouncers and rules be damned.

"I'm a bad girl and you're a bad man. Why don't we go to a back booth and be bad together?"

"In a bit. You know I love having you but..." His hands and lips played along, but his eyes wouldn't leave the stage.

Amateurs. Most didn't know how to work a pole or dance on stage. They were terrible compared to the girls that practiced, that stripped for a living. But for some reason the Palace was always packed on amateur night.

Velvet turned her gaze to the stage. She expected to see a middle aged woman trying to feel sexy again, or another moderately attractive co-ed thinking she's hot shit. Instead she got an eyeful of ass and pussy, the carnal display of a half naked teen doing the splits. The brunette amateur turned her head, she looked back at Velvet and Hank.

Velvets eyes went wide.

A few minutes earlier

Heather stepped out on stage to the first few notes of a fun, bubbly pop song. Her set started with a simple number, the sort of dance she'd do in her room. It was different from what would normally be seen in a strip club, as was her choice in attire. A pink hoodie, baggy pants and sneakers. Her look, her motion, her youth, it gave her a girl next door vibe. Enough to stand out on novelty, but not arousing.

With all eyes on her peculiar performance, with all attention drawn by an odd choice in clothing and song, there came a record scratch. Silence fell over the club.

Heather grinned and unzipped her hoodie. Pink fabric was pulled aside to reveal a sheer black tshirt. It did nothing to conceal the teens upper body, her only modesty coming from Xs of black tape across her nipples.

The hoodie hit the floor with the first notes of a high energy piece of electronica. She started a new, more practiced dance. It wouldn't have been out of place on a nightclub dance floor if not for the periodic self groping and sexualized poses. The baggy pants dropped shortly thereafter. Black and white pinstripes ran up her thigh high leggings, drawing ones eye to the diminutive micro skirt at her waist. The garment was little more than a glorified belt and did nothing to conceal her. Only a black g-string, cut low and plainly visible, covered her virgin cunt.

With all eyes drawn by the strangeness of her opening act not a single person in the room missed her reveal. Confusion gave way to immediate arousal. Hoots and hollers carried up from the stage side patrons to spur the girl onward. She had no experience working a pole and only used it for slow spins. The bulk of her dance was done on the edge where men could stare up at her near non existent modesty, where she could shake her hips and show off her barely legal body. From one end to the other the teen danced for the strangers on perv row. At center stage she slowed down, taking her time for a man with hazel eyes and sharp features. Then she was off dancing and gyrating for the rest of the crowd.

A woman appeared in her fathers lap. White lingerie and long blonde hair; a professional dancer. Heather didn't mind. It was a line of thought she'd had several times over the summer; she screwed around with strangers, it only made sense he'd do the same. They weren't dating, they had no promises or obligations to eachother. Their relationship was different, certainly, but not exclusive. Heather and her father were family with benefits. In fact, the girl had often fantasized watching her dad with another woman.

She dropped her g-string to one ankle and flicked it into the crowd before doing another strut along the stage edge. There were dips and stretches to show off but her show stopper was saved for her father.

At center stage Heather stood above him. He spoke to the woman in his lap, but his eyes never strayed from his daughter. One finger ran up her wet pussy before being brought to her mouth. She sucked on it, letting the enjoyment wash over her. In one smooth motion the girl spun around and sank to the ground, her legs spreading to the sides to put her into splits. She bounced a few times, enticing her father with her display.

The blonde looked stage side. Blue eyes went wide.

"Heather?!"

"Stacy?!"

End of Part Two