STRIP - A Reeperbahn Romance (SAMPLE)

Ben

I want her. Giving up like this is impossible. At least until she knows the whole offer.

She didn’t give me a chance to talk. Working hours, payment, what exactly I’ve planned, I couldn’t explain any of it. Maybe she might be interested if she only knew the whole deal.

This time, I’ve come prepared. Several bills are shoved into my wallet as I step onto the Reeperbahn. It’s a whole lot more crowded this Friday night as it already was yesterday. Hundreds, if not thousands of people shuffle their feet down the street, passing by several colourfully-lighted signs. Pink neon light formed like a woman’s body, green neon light telling me to see the ‘Dirty Boys’, yellow neon light shaped as a cocktail glass. Men, and sometimes women, are stood out in front of the clubs, some of them for security, others approaching the tourists and trying to talk them into their establishments. But I don’t pay any attention to them. I’m headed for the dark red neon light saying ‘Pussy Dolls’.

While I pay the entrance fee, I wonder if Alyssa’s even working tonight. I have no idea, but I have hope. So, as I sit down at the bar and buy an overpriced beer, I let my gaze wander through the club in search for her. For the girl who’s been on my mind since our unordinary meeting yesterday.

The light in the main room is dimmed, switching from colour to colour. One woman is dancing on the main stage, the same stage on which I spotted Alyssa yesterday. This one doesn’t have anything on her, though, her show is nowhere near as captivating. A large crowd has formed in front of her, though, and the men go berserk when she takes her top off. Her big, unnaturally perfect tits bounce around while she dances, but I don’t care to watch. I’m here on a mission. I have to talk to Alyssa. Unhurried and preferably in private. Which leaves me with one option only.

“I’m sorry”—I approach the bartender—“I’m interested in a private dance, who do I have to ask for one?”

“Well, I’m not going to dance for you!” Laughing, he leans onto the counter. “Either you ask the ladies directly, or I’ll send one of them out to you. Anyone specific in mind?”

“Uh yeah, actually. There’s this one dancer, Alyssa—”

“Ah, say no more.” He winks at me, then he turns and disappears through a door at the side. I lean back against the counter when loud growls sound from a corner further back in the club. A group of about ten men has settled around something looking like a wall made of glass, but I can’t make out what’s inside. I can’t see the reason for their excitement.

“Alyssa’s got a bachelor party at the moment,” the bartender draws my attention back to him when he returns. “You either wait until she has time for you, or you ask another lady.”

“I’ll wait then, thanks.” My eyes jump back to the glass wall. I’m almost certain I see droplets of water sliding down on it and a shower head inside. “Sorry, what’s going on over there?”

“That would be the bachelor party. Feel free to watch.” With a wink at me, the bartender moves on to the next guest while I pick up my beer to get a closer look at what’s going on.

At first, I don’t see much. The droplets of water that are running down the glass make it hard to recognise what’s going on inside. But a few seconds later, I recognise her. I recognise the brown hair, the slender body moving inside. Dressed in nothing but a very revealing bikini, Alyssa is standing under a shower head. But she’s not alone.

A man who doesn’t look anything like a stripper is standing behind her, his hands shamelessly running up and down her wet body and leaving a trace of soap behind. Alyssa’s caught in a mix of dancing and grinding, moving her ass against his obvious erection for a few seconds. Then, she takes the man’s hands and brings them to the ribbon that holds her bikini top in place. His eyes light up with excitement as he pulls on the straps and reveals her tits. Perfect tits, in all honesty. The perfect handful, round and tight and beautiful. Heat gathers in the pit of my stomach while I watch her cupping them. I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like if her hands were mine. Would her nipple get hard if my thumb flicked over it?