Meeting Caramel, alone

You walked into a darkened room heady with the smells of cheap perfume and sweat, heavy with the sound of 90s rock. A T-shaped stage broke away from the far wall, widening at the points around three shining poles.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to the women who danced at the nearest poles, however. The one on the left was a tiny woman with vibrant red hair, hair that hung nearly to the floor as she leaned backward upside down. Her boobs (breasts seemed too clinical for a strip club) rivaled Aimee's, and stood proudly out from her chest as her legs pedaled slowly on an imaginary bicycle above her.

On the other side of the stage, a curvy black woman crawled sensually around the other pole, swinging her hips with each movement. You could see at least a dozen bills tucked into her floss-like underwear.

You felt a surreal detachment as you took in the spectacle, as though watching it all from far away. You led Aimee over to a pair of chairs some ten feet from the stage and the to of you sat down. As you did, you took in the other people in the club. The clientele definitely skewed toward what you'd call "white trash," and were entirely male. You'd expected the male part, but had assumed that there would be more variety in the "type" of men who frequented clubs like this. Maybe this club was near a bad part of town?

You also hadn't accounted for the attention you'd get as one of the only female customers here, or how good that attention would feel. You could feel their eyes trailing over your body, and your heartbeat sped up in response. You sat together at to chairs that shared an unoccupied table, though both faced the nearby stage. As a result, you found yourself watching the woman gyrating against the pole after only a few moments.

*These women have it so great,* said a voice in your head, *they get to show off AND get paid for it! Plus they get to dance all day!*

You turned to Aimee, voicing your concerns. "This might have been a bad idea..." You trailed off, focusing more on the way the audience was noticeably aware of the two of you. It felt good... Then you noticed something else.

You *weren't* the only female customers in the club after all. There were about eight other women, some nervous and others looking excited, lined up near the DJ booth. Aimee followed your gaze.

"Oh I bet those are the amateurs that Ricky mentioned!" She eyed then critically, then added in a whisper, "I bet I *could* beat them, actually..."

You couldn't help but agree, Aimee didn't have much competition among the women gathered at the DJ booth. But you weren't here to polish her ego.

"I'm going to ask about Caramel," you told Aimee, standing to leave her behind. The words felt thick in your mouth. You approached the bar, each step difficult, and felt the dizziness from earlier returning in full ****.

For every four customers in the club, there was a stripper sauntering between the tables and chairs. You watched as one sat on the arm of a customer's chair, trailing her fingers down their arm and whispering into their ear. At another chair you saw a woman sitting in a man's lap, her butt moving back and forth to the music in what had to be a 'lap' dance. Another woman took a man's hand and led him out of the room entirely, disappearing behind a closed door at the back.

The bartender was an older woman, probably forty, with a body that suggested she might have worked on the club's stage but long ago. She grinned as you approached. "What can I get you? I'm guessing... Long island iced tea?"

You giggled, remembering the one time you'd tried those before. It has been your bachelorette party, and details were fuzzy. "God no! I actually wanted to ask you if there was a Caramel working here today?"

The bartender bit her lip, thinking about it, then answered, "She just came off stage actually, should be making the rounds in a minute or two. Should I send her your way?"

You considered the question, then nodded. Since it seemed right, you passed a five over to her for the favor. "Thanks!"

You turned back to the table, but Aimee had moved to the line of amateurs. Rolling your eyes and fighting back a wave of confused envy, you took a seat, and had only been waiting for a moment before you heard a voice from behind you and felt a hand rest softly on your knee.

"Hi there sexy!" said the breathy voice "Tams said you were looking for me? Did you want a dance?" The words were spoken directly into your ear in a conspiratorial whisper, close enough that the speaker's nose bumped against the nape of your neck. At the same time you caught a waft of lavender perfume that made your eyes water and your mouth to open subtly.

You turned, catching another breath of her scent. The perfume was heady, but unquestionably appealing. It smelled cheap, but had an allure that spoke directly to your sex. It matched Caramel perfectly.

The woman who had spoken into your ear was about your own height, but her curves made Aimee's body look tame. She wore a bright pink bikini top and matching side-tie bottoms, but both had to be a size or three small for the body they struggled to contain. Her boobs were each the size of her head, and her hips flared to balance an hourglass figure. Her hair fell in a long dark waterfall down to pick tips at her lower back, and her makeup and jewelry were both cheap and flashy. She looked *hot.*

*Damn.* The voice in your head was usually more verbose.

You swayed in your seat, savoring the smell of her before you managed to form words, "Hi... It's Caramel, right? I... Wanted to talk to you about something." You weren't sure how to react to her close proximity, but tried to help things friendly.

"Yep!" she answered, moving around your chair to sit lightly on the arm of it. At the same time, she moved your hand from the armrest to her own thigh. "You're cute! What can I help you with?"

You were confused. She was practically sitting in your lap! You gazed around frantically for a moment before you realized why. "Oh! I'm not actually looking for a lap dance! I just wanted to talk!"

She looked a bit disappointed, but popped up anyway, shifting her weight and waving her ass idly back and forth and she leaned down toward you. Behind her, you saw several customers staring at the show. "Sorry sexy, but I'm totally working right now! We could talk while I dance... Or you can wait until I'm off at 11."

You considered your options...