Message-ID: <13035eli$9807141240@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "Watcher" Subject: {ASSM} A Matter of Need (MF, Rom) Segment 2 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset="ISO-8859-1" Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6oflq4$nj5$1@news0-alterdial.uu.net> A MATTER OF NEED Segment 2 of 3 Copyright,1998 by the author. This material may not be reproduced or redistributed in any manner. * * * * * When the girls on stage had begun teasing Phil, five more dancers began to circulate among the tables, offering lap dances. Barry hadn't been impressed with their looks. They all had good figures, but when most of them went down on their backs spread-eagled for a customer, their breasts still rose up. Obvious enhancement. The faces were okay, but their smiles dropped the moment they left one customer for another. Who could get enthused about a girl who was obviously faking it that much, he thought. Barry's over-all assessment was short and harsh. Fake smiles, fake breasts, too much make up, and for him a telling final observation, shoes that were worn and scuffed. Except for one. Unconsciously, Barry had been taking inventory of a girl who was talking with a customer two tables over. She was thinner than most, with short blond hair that curved inward to frame her chin. Her breasts were good, but not large. She was sitting sideways on his lap, wearing a bikini bottom and a small jacket that partially covered her. He spoke into her ear repeatedly, and each time, she shook her head, "No." Her smile was more of a grin, and it looked genuine. Even while they negotiated, she seemed to be having fun with it. Ted returned to the table with four bottles of beer. He opened two of them. Barry gestured toward the stage. "So these are artists, huh?" "Oh yeah. Most of 'em went to Juilliard before they came here." Barry watched the stage in silence. "Kind of a dump, isn't it," Ted said. "Yeah, well, what can you expect?" "Around here? Not much. You want to see a class place, go down to Austin, Texas. Fantastic girls, some great houses, clean, you think you're in a club or something." "Some of the girls are okay," Barry said, watching the blond. Ted followed Barry's eyes to the table nearby. He had to agree with Barry's taste. The girl there had a fresh, fun look. As he watched, she got up from the lap of the man she was talking to, patted his shoulder with a smile and said, "Sorry." Ted reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill he'd put there for easy access. As the girl passed their table, he held out the money. She stopped, gave them both a big smile, and removed the jacket she was wearing. "Hi, guys," she said, preparing to sit on Ted's lap. "Hang on a sec," Ted said to her. "Would it be against the rules if you just sat down here with us for a while?" "No problem," she said, taking the chair Ted offered. "My name's Crystal." Crystal took the twenty, put it in a pocket on her jacket and sat down between Ted and Barry. Ted began talking with her, asking her things like how long she'd worked there, what nights she worked, did she like the place and so on. Barry sat quietly, trying to listen but without much success. Except for when they were facing him, the music drowned out most of what they said. But he could tell that Ted liked her. After a few minutes, Ted took what looked like a fifty dollar bill out of his wallet, folded it, and put it in the pocket of her jacket. Barry leaned close to Ted and said, "Talk about over-tipping . . . ." But Ted ignored the comment. Crystal was an animated talker, and her naked breasts bobbled as she spoke. Barry hadn't expected to have one of the dancers right there at the table with him, and he had trouble deciding if he should look or not. She wasn't on the stage, after all. It was more like she was a guest at the table. All of his old training about not staring at a woman's chest kicked in. Ted watched Barry as he spoke to Crystal. When he saw Barry's eyes lock onto the table and stay there, he said to Crystal, "Tell you what, Crystal. Would you be more comfortable with your jacket on while we're just sitting here?" "Well . . . yeah," she said, putting the jacket on. "Thanks. I would." She smiled at Ted and then Barry. "You guys are nice." For the first time, Barry was able to think of something to say. "To tell you the truth, it makes me more comfortable, too." Crystal's smile turned just a bit curious, Barry thought, and he added quickly, "I mean, you look great, uh, without the jacket, but it makes it a little hard to talk." Her smile softened and warmed. "Hey, it's fine by me. I haven't been working here all that long anyhow. I'm still gettin' used to it." Barry believed her. And he liked her for saying it. It sounded like something real instead of the phony stuff on the stage. Phil was back in the audience by then, and the three dancers on stage had removed their bikini bottoms. Their dancing had been reduced to rolling on the floor, legs scissoring open and shut. Most of the men sitting at the edge of the stage had cash in their hands, and each time one of them waved a five dollar bill at one of the girls, she'd come over to sit down close in front of him. After a short while of open-legged grinding, she'd take the cash and move on. "Five bucks for all that?" Ted commented, "Jeez, this is a cheap place." "Five is the going rate," Crystal said, "at least up on the stage. A private couch dance costs the most. That's twenty." "What's a couch dance?" Barry asked. "We go in the other room and there's a little round stage there with a couch next to it. The guy sits there and we dance bottom-less for him. Three songs." Barry was feeling more and more comfortable. Talking about the business end of things was easy. "I was watching you with that guy over there. Looked like he was trying to hassle you." "No hassle," she said, "he was trying to offer me five dollars to let him touch my breast." "That's against the rules, right?" "Yeah, it is. And for five bucks it definitely is." A tall muscular man who looked to be in his late twenties approached the table. His long dark hair was pulled back in a pony tail, and the T-shirt he wore accented his biceps. "Hey Crystal," he said. She looked up at him and patted the pocket in her jacket. "Okay, but your set's up in a couple minutes," he said, and walked away. "I gotta go," she said to Ted and Barry, "I'm due up on stage." "See you when you're done?" Ted asked, holding out another twenty. "Yeah, I could for a while. They don't want me stayin' one place all the time though. I gotta go around the room a little." "No problem," Ted answered. "See you after a while." Crystal took the twenty and left. "You like her?" Barry asked. "Yeah, I guess so." "Well you've sure dropped a lot of cash on her." "I like her. More to the point, you like her." "She's okay. She's easy to talk to." "So she's worth it. Happy birthday." "It's not my birthday, Ted." "So? It probably wasn't that guy Phil's anniversary either. Enjoy." "Ted, what are you doing?" "What do you mean?" "I mean I have my own wallet." "Would you have pulled any cash out of it?" "I don't know." "Bingo. I could see you liked talking to her. So I made sure she'd come back. It's not like you never did anything for me, Barry." "Yeah, but, come on, Ted. I don't need . . . . " "You don't need a nice looking girl to talk to?" "That's not what I mean." "You'd rather be up there by the stage with Phil?" "No, the table's fine. And Crystal's fine. But maybe we don't need to be here at all." "Maybe you don't, but I need my monthly fix of sin and degradation. You don't want me to have to be here alone, do you?" "Since when are you a regular here?" "Since now." "Ted, you're full of shit." "Yessir. And thanks for noticing. Now enjoy the dance. Crystal's up." They watched Crystal and two other girls on the stage. All three of them danced briefly while they shed their tops, slithered up and down the poles in time to the music, and then settled down to the main business at hand. They stripped off their bottoms and moved to the edges of the stage. The dancing became a series of gymnastic movements as they rolled and turned, flashing their open legs. If the tips were large enough they crouched on all fours, their naked cheeks aimed straight at the customer, or rolled onto their backs, knees pressed up against their chests. Barry found himself ignoring the other dancers. He focused on Crystal, and noticed she seldom gave anyone the back view, regardless of the tip size. She seemed different out there. He'd seen her smile at the table, and the expression on her face up on the stage was a pale imitation. She doesn't really like this, he thought to himself. The idea pleased him for a moment, until he caught himself. Well that's stupid. What the hell do I care? I don't even know her. He pulled his eyes away from the stage and stared at the beer glass in front of him. The head had gone flat. It didn't surprise him. Rinsing the glasses thoroughly probably wasn't a priority here. He looked around the room, taking in details. Dark blue paint on the walls, peeling in places. A plywood floor. A few rips and patches in the cloth that covered the rise of the stage. Crystal was holding her legs open now, accepting a five dollar bill from some guy. The guy leaned in as far as he could. Crystal closed up again, moving on. When the set ended, the girls put their bottoms back on. Topless, they began to circulate the tables while another three dancers took the stage. Barry watched them. Phony smiles, half-hearted teasing. Except Crystal. She seemed a lot more comfortable off the stage, and the genuine smile was back. See what I mean? He chided himself. She's as happy over there as here or anyplace. Get your head out of your ass. Twenty bucks and she's your friend for life. Or at least the next ten minutes of it. It felt good to get a little perspective. There'd been something going on before in his head that Barry wasn't very comfortable with. Something stupid, he told himself, fantasy crap. Get real. "How long do you want to stay?" he asked Ted. "Maybe another half hour. We asked Crystal to come back, remember?" "She probably can't. There's a lot of guys waving cash at her out there." "I don't see her," said Ted, looking around the room. "I don't either," Barry said. "She probably took a break or something." Barry felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and saw Crystal standing behind him. "Lookin' for somebody?" She said. Ted laughed, "Sneaking up on us, huh?" "Yup," she said, and sat down between them. Barry said, "I thought you had to circulate." "I did. The other girls can finish. I'm tired." "Tough night?" Ted asked. "Yeah. I like most of the guys, but there's a couple rough ones out there." The small talk started up again, with Ted in the lead. Barry trailed along, but two things distracted him. The first was a minor battle in his head to get rid of the notion that Crystal was there for anything but another twenty. The second was a question he wanted to ask, but guessed he shouldn't. Finally, he decided to go for it. "Do you like the stage part of this?" "It's okay," she said. "The money's not so good, but if you get some of the guys' attention you can make more at the tables afterward." "Can I ask a stupid question?" "Depends on the question." "You didn't look the same up there. Is it . . . like more . . . uh . . . because you're more exposed?" Crystal smiled at him. "You peeked." "I just wondered. You're not insulted or anything, are you?" "No. But if you want to know am I havin' a good time up there with my clothes off, the answer is I'd rather be here talkin' to you guys." Ted said, "I'll bet you say that to all the tables." "I mean it," she said, "you guys are kind of a break for me. Last thing most guys do is talk." Barry asked, "So you said you were new here. How long?" "About two weeks." "Think you'll stay?" "Yeah, for a while. The money's really good and there's no jobs in the schools. What I want is counseling in the grade schools." "You have a degree?" Barry asked. "Got it a couple years ago." "Well," Barry said, not sure he believed her, "good luck." Ted leaned toward them. "So tell us more about that couch dance you were talking about." "You want one?" she asked. "Barry does," he answered, putting another twenty in her hand. "Okay," she said. Barry leaned back with his hands held out. "Hang on a minute. I didn't ask for anything," Barry protested. "Sure you did," Ted said. "Go for it, Crystal." "Come on Barry," she said, standing and taking his hand, "We go back there." She pointed to a doorway at the far end of the stage. "I thought we were doing fine right here." "We'll do better back there. Come on." Crystal pulled Barry from his chair and led him away from the table. "I'll hold down the fort here," Ted said, grinning. Crystal kept a tight grip on Barry's hand and led him through the tables to the door. When they arrived, she turned to him. "Look," she said, "I know you didn't ask for the couch dance. Your friend Ted's bein' a wise guy. So if you don't want to . . . ." "Would it bother you if I didn't?" "I'm not gonna be insulted if that's what you mean." A warm but wicked smile crept across her face. "If naked women close up and personal aren't your cup of tea, well . . . ." "Thanks a lot," he said, trying to take her taunt with good humor. "But maybe not now." "Okay," she said, still smiling. "It's just, lately I . . . I feel different." "Different." "Yeah. Never mind what that means. Hell, we don't even know each other. Just . . . you shouldn't think it's you. It's me." "Okay, well, whatever. Tell you what. We'll go inside so Ted can't see us, and just wait around a while. We get back to the table, we'll tell Ted you had all kinds of good fun." They walked into the room. There were three couches, each with a small, low circular stage in front of it. Two of the couches were occupied. On the stages totally naked dancers were posing, opening themselves in every possible position, their hips thrusting in the air with the music. Their movements were far more blatant and erotic than those on the main stage. "Can I tell you something?" Crystal asked. "Sure." "I guess I am a little disappointed." "I'm sorry. Really." "No, it's no big thing. But this was gonna be my first one." Barry was mildly incredulous. "You looked forward to it?" "Nope. That's not what I meant. It's just, I'm gonna' have to do these sooner or later, and, you know, I was kind of nervous about it. And when I thought you'd be my first . . . well, it seemed easier." The music played on. Barry and Crystal stood there watching the other dancers. When it ended, Barry took Crystal's hand and moved toward the door. "Hang on," she said. "They do two more songs." The music started. Barry still held Crystal's hand in his. It felt small, but strong and warm. Crystal watched the dances, her body moving slightly in rhythm. "Crystal," he said. "Uh huh?" she said, not turning. "We can do it." She turned to him, a pleased look on her face. "The couch?" she asked. "Yeah. You better hurry before the music's over." "You got it," she said. She led him to the empty couch, stepped up on its stage and stripped off her jacket and bikini bottoms. "So what do they call this," she said with a smile, "a mercy watch?" "Mercy schmercy," he said. Her smile was infectious. He found himself returning it. "I will lust appropriately. I may even hoot. You never know." "Okay," she said. "Now you gotta tell me when I look best. You know, what's enough and not too much, and . . . ." "I don't think 'too much' is in these guys' vocabulary." "So lots of stuff like this?" she asked, rolling on her back and lifting her knees to her chest. Crystal's arms and knees hid her face, but Barry had a good idea she was laughing behind them. He leaned to his left, looking around her knees and saw that he was right. "Ah. Well that proves it," he said, laughing himself and pointing to her exposed rear end. "You're a girl. I knew there was something about you I liked." "Sshhh," she whispered, "don't let the other girls hear you. This is supposed to be serious hot stuff." "Crystal, you are serious hot stuff," he whispered back. "Now do your damnedest." For the remainder of the song and all through the last one, Crystal scissored and rolled, smiling at Barry, waiting for his comments before she moved to a new position. Barry leaned forward, totally involved in the fun and made the best comments he could. At one point, after taking a quick glance to be certain no one but Barry could see her, Crystal ran her finger the length of her sex and pulled gently on one lip, opening herself just slightly. "We're not supposed to do that. But what the hell. Special for you. Nobody else. I'd get fired if anybody told Terry." "Well thank you, ma'am. It was a delight. Who's Terry?" "The guy in the pony tail. He's the manager." "Your secret is safe." "I know that," she said, and finished the song with near-acrobatic moves. On their way back to the table, Crystal stopped and turned to him. "I got a question before we get back." "Okay." "This is a little embarrassing, but, I have a little teeny bit of a 'rhoid there and I . . . is it a turn-off?" "Not a chance. Guys'll be so turned on . . . well, don't worry about it." "Guys?" "Yeah, the guys you dance for." "How about this guy?" "This guy had a good time, Crystal." "Okay," she said, turning from him and walking again. Barry took her hand and stopped her. "Crystal?" he said, and pointed to his fly. "Can you see these pants? Big bulge. Your fault." She looked down a moment, and then back up at him, her face beaming. "Can you see this face? Big smile. Your fault." Back at the table, Ted greeted them, grinning, "Well, how'd Barry's big adventure go?" "Better than I thought," Barry said. "They had a deck of cards back there and I won back the money you gave her. Here." He handed Ted a twenty dollar bill and turned to wink at Crystal. "My fun, my tab," he said to her. "And if you ask me, twenty's cheap." "I take it that means I shouldn't ask?" Ted said. "Okay, rich guy, why don't you get the next round of beer for us?" "You got it," said Barry, "which way do I go?" "Out that door and left. Two buildings down." "Okay. Back in a sec." Ted and Crystal sat in silence for a while, watching the dancers on stage. When the set ended, Ted said to her, "So. Things went okay?" "You mean with Barry? Sure." "Maybe more than okay?" "My lips are sealed . . . unless, of course, you tell me why you're asking?" "Don't you remember that little wager we made earlier?" "Oh, come on." "So did I win or not?" "You were serious about that?" "Did I put a fifty dollar bill in your pocket?" "Well, yeah, but I thought you were just bein' funny about a tip" "Nope. And it sounds like you lost," Ted said, holding out his hand. "Can I have my fifty back please?" Crystal looked at Ted with a mixture of annoyance and frustration."Fine," she said, handing him the fifty. "So now what?" "Now you keep up your end of the bet." "That's stupid. I'm not gonna go out there and do that. That's why I thought it was a joke." Ted looked at Crystal for a moment, and then said, "Tell you what. You can have the fifty back. Just do it." "You're really serious, aren't you?" "Yeah." Crystal let out a long breath. "Fine," she said. "But keep your fifty. If I promised I'd do it, I'll do it." "Hey, you know what?" Ted said "What." "I think I just decided I like you." "Oh gee, am I thrilled," she said, a smile returing to her face. Barry arrived back at the table with two beers in hand. He picked up on the last part of Ted and Crystal's conversation. "It took you this long?" he said. "I liked you right away, Crystal." "Yeah. Well, you're easy," Ted said. They talked together for a while, until Terry the manager passed near their table and said, "Crystal's gonna have to circulate, guys. Sorry." "Okay," said Ted, stretching back in his chair. "We should probably get going anyhow." "Take care guys," Crystal said, standing to leave. "Hope I see you here again." Barry stood, and Ted joined him. "Good night, Crystal," Barry said. "Yeah," Ted added. "Take it easy." Crystal headed off to circulate among the tables. Ted and Barry both made a quick trip to the washroom and then headed for the parking lot. Neither one had much to say on their way home, but as Ted dropped Barry off, Barry made it a point to shake Ted's hand. "I haven't been out much," he said. "So thanks. I know I can be a dead weight some times." "Forget it," Ted said. "And you weren't a dead weight. Why, without your charm and worldly ways, we'd never have convinced Crystal to sit with us." "Yeah. That and about a hundred bucks worth of inspiration. But anyhow, it was fun. A lot more than I thought it might be. Take care, Ted." "You too. See you Monday." * * * * * Barry slept late Saturday morning. Out of habit, he'd woken just after seven, but without the kids there, he settled back in the pillows and slept until shortly after ten. He still felt groggy as he shuffled down the stairs and into the kitchen. He thought about making a pot of coffee, but the wait seemed too long. Instead, he put a cup full of water in the microwave and pulled some instant coffee out of a cabinet. With a slice of bread in the toaster, he sipped at the coffee. Images of the night before played in his head. He hadn't done anything stupid, he told himself, but he still felt a twinge of guilt. His mind replayed the images of peeling paint, scuffed shoes, and, of course, the women. Parts of it had been fun, but overall the whole thing had a muddy feel to it that didn't match the sunlight streaming in through his kitchen window. And that girl Crystal. How the hell had that happened? He hoped Ted had the smarts not to talk to anyone at the office about where they'd been, but with Ted you never knew. And what would he say if he ever saw Crystal on the street? Do you say hi to a nude bar dancer? Would she even want you to? The coffee did its work. His head was clearing. The toast popped up and he spread it with honey. He took a bite and went to his front door to get the paper. As usual, the kid hadn't managed to toss it up on the doorstep. It was a good seven feet away under a bush. All he had on was a pair of boxers. Should he try for it, or go back in and get a robe? He checked the street. It was empty. He looked left and right up the sidewalk and saw no one. He was about to go for it when he spotted someone on the lawn between his house and the neighbor's. He backed up quickly and closed the door. They're gonna arrest me someday, he chided himself, and headed upstairs for a robe. It was only after he'd put the robe on that he began to wonder who was out there. He hadn't seen the person for very long, but long enough to know it was a woman, and way too thin to be his neighbor's wife. He walked to the bedroom on that side of the house, and looked down out the window. It was a woman dressed in sandals, shorts and a sweatshirt. He'd been wrong about her being on the lawn. She was in the flower bed on that side of his house, digging around the plants. From his angle on the second floor he couldn't see her face, but he could tell she must have been there for quite a while. There was a pile of weeds next to her, and a bag of peat moss partially empty. Who the hell's out there in my garden, he thought, and went back to the bedroom to exchange the robe for a pair of slacks, a shirt and his loafers. Back downstairs, he picked up his coffee, opened the back door and walked out on the lawn. As he turned the corner around the side of the house, he could see her. She was still pulling weeds. He walked closer, and then stopped, speechless. It was the girl from last night. Crystal. Her back was to him, but there was no mistaking that hair and the part of her profile he could see. Slowly, he began walking toward her again. "Excuse me," he said, loud enough for her to hear him across the lawn. Crystal turned and saw him. "Good morning," she said, still pulling at a stubborn weed, "you got a great garden here." Suddenly Barry became aware of the neighboring houses; the neighboring world, for that matter. The last thing he wanted to do was shout anything more across the lawn. He walked up to her, stood next to her watching in confusion for a moment, and then spoke quietly, almost whispering. "What the hell are you doing here?" "I lost a bet." "You lost a bet?" Crystal picked up a small hand spade to loosen the soil where she'd removed the weed. She scooped some peat moss out of the bag and worked it in to the soil. "A bet?" Barry repeated. "Yeah. Don't worry about it. I'll be done, maybe half an hour." "A bet with who?" She stopped working and looked up at him. "Well, who do you and I know in common?" "Ted? You had a bet with Ted?" She turned back to her work. "Yeah. Ted. I lost, so he said I had to get out here this morning and weed this place." "He never said anything to me," Barry said, still completely off balance. "Yeah, I know. He said that'd be the fun part. You know, surprise you." "Well, you certainly did that." "You're not mad, are you? He was just havin' fun." "No, I'm not mad. But I can't believe you went through with it. He couldn't have been serious." "Oh he was serious, all right. But that wouldn't matter anyhow. I make a bet, I keep my promises. And you get one free morning of weed pulling." Crystal looked up at him again, and pointed at his cup of coffee. "You got any more of that?" Barry stared into his cup, as though he'd find the answer there. "I guess so," he said finally. "I'd appreciate it." (End segment 2) -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----