Chapter 1 – The Meeting (page 3)

“So you began at a strip club?”  Polly asked, taking a sip of her coffee.  She realized that she had been so caught up in The Stripper’s story that her coffee had gone cold.

“No, it turns out the ad was old and they were not hiring at that time.  But I did go in for a chat, and the guy there gave me the contact information of another woman who owned an agency that organized private parties – like bachelorette and birthday parties.  She thought the owner would really like me, if you know what I mean,” he said sexily.  “I contacted Cathie and we set up an interview.  Man, she was a total MILF.  I was worried about being too nervous to get hard and show myself off to her, but one look at her, and it was the Vegas show all over again.”  The Stripper pursed his lips.  “Turns out Cathie was an ex-stripper herself, and was curvy and blonde, with a seriously great ass.”  The Stripper shifted in his chair and adjusted his cock. Polly couldn’t help but notice.

“Do you think I can interview Cathie?  Can you get me in touch with her?”  Polly asked with keen interest.  “She sounds like she would be a great person to interview for this research.”

“No, sorry.  Cathie was beginning to get harassed by tax collectors, so she moved to the Cayman Islands.  Cut off all contact with everyone.  She had a huge sum of money from running this agency, and wasn’t going to let the tax man take it away.”

Polly felt dismayed.  Cathie would have been a great subject to interview. “So you show up and get hired?”

“Of course not.  I had to show Cathie my …abilities.”

“To be clear for research purposes, by ‘abilities’, you mean your … body and its parts,” Polly shifted a bit in her seat.

The Stripper smiled.  “Yes, I had to eventually show Cathie how I would entertain ladies… in a naked way.  She told me that I had a great body, and great body parts,” he smirked a bit, “but I needed help with my stripper moves.  Cathie taught me a lot.  A lot.”  He smiled lustfully as he looked down at his coffee cup in his hand.

“Such as what?”  Polly looked up from her notes to The Stripper, eager to hear his response.

The Stripper looked at Polly straight in the eyes.  “She taught me how to strut…but like a man. How to roll my hips and be confident with my head up. She taught me what the women I would be performing for want, and got me used to being objectified. She would tell me ‘nice ass’ and ‘get your cock harder’ and just stare at my crotch.  She taught me floor work – you know, getting down on the floor and doing sexy manoeuvres like cat crawls and crotch thrusts, how to lap dance.  And,” he paused here for full effect, “she taught me how to fuck amazingly and eat pussy like a champ.”

Polly’s eyes widened in shock.  Looking back down at her notepad, she took a deep breath, composed herself, and with her research in mind asked, “what did she teach you that women want?”

The Stripper paused for a moment, thoughtful of his answer. He leaned forward a bit towards Polly.  “She taught me that women want to be appreciated and should never be ignored. Treat every woman like she is the only woman in the room. Be in the moment totally …even if it is for a moment.”

Polly felt her breath catch in her chest and her nipples get hard.  She looked up from her notepad and The Stripper was looking directly at her, seeming to be gauging her reaction.  She looked directly into his eyes for an intense moment, and then broke eye contact.  She nervously cleared her throat and asked, “How long after the Vegas wet shorts contest did you contact Cathie?”

The Stripper sat back in his chair and thought a moment.  “I would say 2 months.”

“And your first party?  Could you describe that?”  Polly asked, keenly interested.

The Stripper finished his coffee and smiled. “My first party was about a week after I met with Cathie and she decided to hire me.”  He glanced at his watch, “but we will have to talk about this next time as I have someplace to be.”  He stood up, turned around and got his blazer off the back of the chair.

Polly was thrown off a bit, as she hadn’t thought she would have to see The Stripper again.  She thought she would be able to interview him and be done with him, moving onto the next subject.  She remembered that she did not have a second subject yet. Using the snowball research technique, she needed The Stripper to get her in touch with other male sex workers.

“I have several more questions for you though,” Polly said, glancing at his tight ass as he bent over the back of the chair retrieving his blazer. She took a deep breath and reminded herself of going to Hell.

“Next time,” he smiled. “How does next Friday at 1 pm work for you?”  His arm muscles flexed as he adjusted the crotch of his jeans and put his blazer on.

“Ah, yes, sure …” Polly reached to turn off the recorder.  “Also, I am looking for others in your, ah …’business’ to interview.  If you can give my contact information to any of your other colleagues, I would appreciate it.”  She took a deep breath before standing up to look him in the eyes and shake his hand.  “It has been a pleasure,” she said professionally.

“I’m sure,” he said, flashing that blindingly white smile.  He turned and walked out of the coffee shop, and was lost in the afternoon crowd outside.

Polly sat back down and took a big, deep breath and sighed.  She picked up her notepad and read some of the notes she had made, super white smile, likes showing off his body, hedonist? exhibitionist?, seems very happy, must ask about how he feels being looked at naked, how large is his penis?  She stopped reading at the last one and giggled to herself.  She had a number of quick notes from their conversation, but was glad that she had recorded it to listen to later.  For research of course.  Polly packed up her things, and headed out the door to home.  To Jason.

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