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- Herausgeber: Berlinable GmbH
- Kategorie: Erotik
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022
It's another night at the strip club, and Rat has realized they haven't shaved their legs. Out of nowhere, a colleague they've never really talked to before, Candy, starts up conversation. She invites Rat to join in on a private show with a big spender client. Candy inspects Rat, intimately, and Rat finds themselves getting turned on even though this is a normal activity in their line of work. Rat wonders if the chemistry is real, but are afraid to reveal they're transitioning. Once the rich customer, Paulie, arrives, the two strippers bring him back to a VIP room. They get into the mood with a few glasses of champagne, some cocktails, and some extra courage, and the private show begins. Even though Paulie is crude and loud, he doesn't stop Rat from enjoying Candy, maybe a little too much. They wonder if it would be this nice outside off the clock. Selena offers an exciting glimpse behind the scenes of a strip club, and tells a story from the perspective of a stripper who is searching for understanding and a sexy connection.
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HOW RAT MET CANDY
Selena
Artcover: Amiee Oh
Copyright: BERLINABLE
Berlinable invites you to leave all your fears behind and dive into a world where sex is a tool for self-empowerment.
Our mission is to change the world - one soul at a time.
When people accept their own sexuality, they build a more tolerant society.
Words to inspire, to encourage, to transform.
Open your mind and free your deepest desires.
All rights reserved. It is not permitted to copy, distribute or otherwise publish the content of this eBook without the express permission of the publisher. Subject to changes, typographical errors and spelling errors. The plot and the characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to dead or living people or public figures is not intended and are purely coincidental.
“You have perfect nipples.”
Rat looked up, unsure of who was addressing them. They were sitting in a booth beside one of the mini stages for VIP dances. Rat had been lost in thought, typing a to-do checklist into their phone. They had forgotten a very important detail: to shave. They hated forgetting important details. Rat reached down self-consciously, and rubbed the stubble emerging on their shins, then grimaced. There was no doubt they would receive some snide comment from a troll of a man about it.
“Yo, did you hear me?”
Rat realized they had forgotten to respond to the compliment. A dancer was now occupying the mini stage beside them.
“Thanks!” Rat finally answered, smiling uncomfortably.
Rat had forgotten that they were wearing a bodystocking dress. It was always a crowd pleaser, especially because their nipples were clearly visible under the sheer fabric. It was garment enough that they didn’t get in trouble for violating the dress code, but sheer enough that customers didn’t need to struggle to imagine what was underneath.
“I’m Candy, what’s your name?” Candy asked as she spun around the pole, landing gracefully on her knees.
“Lilith,” Rat responded.
“Cute name. You like girls, Lilith?” She wiped sweat from her brow and grinned mischievously at Rat. Candy combed her fingers through her mess of long, tangled brown hair.
“I like everybody,” Rat replied, rote, realizing belatedly that it was perhaps a more pointed question. It was the standard answer Rat gave to men looking for a “bi-curious” experience.
“Perfect,” Candy said, as she lifted her mane of hair and fanned her flushed neck. “I have a regular coming who likes to watch girls fuck, and I need a partner, if you’re down.”
“Is he buying a champagne room?” Rat asked, excited by the prospect of doing a dance without having to hustle anybody into it first.
“At least one, maybe more if he likes you.” Candy winked.
“He tip well for the fuck show?”
“$500 each, per dance.”
That $500 would push Rat a third of the way to their nightly goal, even if they only did one dance together. Rat intended to milk it, no matter what they had to do. It was nearly midnight, and the club was bustling. A group of Ravens players had bought out the VIP lounge upstairs and were surrounded by a mob of strippers chugging Jäger bombs. Rat preferred to avoid groups. Solo men were easier to talk to. When the men gathered in a pack, there was too much posturing and performative interest. Men would pass up dancers they liked because they didn’t want to be seen with someone unconventionally attractive. When gathered together, they tended to settle for the lowest common denominators: the blondest, biggest tits, thickest ass, juiciest lips - all things Rat clearly did not possess. Not that Rat wasn’t conventionally attractive. Rat was a pretty boi. While they didn’t have much to speak of with regards to breasts, they had what many men had described as ‘a real dump truck ass’. It had been the source of personal dysphoria outside of the club, but in the club, a money maker.
“What do you normally do in the shows?
“Whatever you’re comfortable with. We could pretend to go down on each other, or…” Candy held up a peace sign and flicked her tongue between her index and middle fingers.
“When was the last time you were tested?” Rat asked, the tips of their ears prickled as a blush crawled down their back.
Rat was grateful to be Black and under dim lights. Although rarely embarrassed when discussing sex, Rat was normally the aggressor, unabashedly using coarse terms to describe the fucking that was the bread and butter of their labor, but this felt different. The scent of vanilla musk wafted from Candy’s slick skin. Candy rolled her eyes.
“I get tested once every two weeks, so about a week ago.”
