College girls can get into all sorts of situations they never thought they would. When I was in college, another friend of mine was a stripper to earn money. I always thought that was beneath me until I was hurting for money. I saw all she had that she’d earned doing it. She wasn’t in debt, had lots of nice clothes, a nice car. Then I asked her about what she earned doing it, since I was needing money myself. When she told me. I didn’t relish the idea of getting naked for strangers, but the money. Oh, the money that could be earned. She really encouraged me to give it a try. She said she could talk to her boss for me. I knew I’d have to get over my reservations and just do it.
The first night it shocked me. I’d never had that much cash in my hand at one time. She said the new ones always did well. Things would not stay that profitable, but would still be good. I knew it would be ok. I just focused on the dancing and trying to look hot and not think about the ones watching. So I knew they’d be getting hard ons watching me. And I knew they’d go home and jerk off thinking of me. Hell, it did not convince me some weren’t already doing that under the table! Some girls did the lap dance thing and even more in back rooms. I knew the dancing was enough for me.
My first song came on and I sauntered out to the stage and grabbed the pole. I took some tips from some of the girls to earn more. Guys loved a wet pussy, or what they thought was a wet pussy. I squirted a bit of oil into the crotch of my bikini bottoms. Water would evaporate, but the oil would make it look wet all night. So I’d bend over and shake my ass and give them a good look at the “wet” crotch. The tips kept coming. I peeled off the bikini top and fondled my tits and swayed back and forth to the pounding music.
Some of the audience was hooting and hollering, turned on by the parade of college girls on stage. It was seedy and debauched, but I liked the power of being able to turn a roomful of men on at once. I would spin around that pole knowing the cocks in the audience before me were hardening. One night there was a good-looking guy in the front row near the stage. I performed only for him. He gave me a nice tip. I saw the bulge in his pants after my dance. And I have to admit, that night I went home and masturbated thinking about him.
I had done well that night at the club, and had a handful of cash to prove it. I got into bed and just couldn’t sleep. My hand wandered downwards to my pussy. It was wet. Really wet, not some fake oil spot “wet.” My lips spread open at the slightest touch and I sought out my clit. Stiff and standing at attention. I dipped my middle fingertip into my honey pot to get it all slippery. Then I dragged it upwards to my stiff clit and worked it in circles. Right at the base of it, over the hood. I was practically going mad, teasing myself as I thought of him. This was hot fantasy sex.
The way his eyes had raked over me and up and down my body as I spun around that pole. I placed my fingertip right on the sensitive tip of my clit and worked my fingers into an absolute frenzy. My fingers would have been a blur working on it. I bucked my hips, bit my lips, and groaned deeply as I made myself orgasm. I wondered what that customer would think.
If he knew, the girl he’d watched on stage a few hours ago was masturbating, thinking of him. Licking her cunt until she exploded on his face in a gush of wetness. My fingertip working myself and thinking it was his skillful tongue. I brought myself to the brink of another orgasm and quickly came yet again. It was hot. I realized this job brought a lot more to the table than just some extra money. College girls should explore their options when it came to earning.
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