From: Candice
My name is Candice, but everybody knows me as Candy. I'm 21 years old and work as a
stripper in California. I chose this particular line of employment for one simple reason:
I love to be a show-off. I just can't help it. I've always been a show-off, and probably
will be for several years to come. I used to wear micro-miniskirts in high school to
attract attention. I always loved the way guys would look at me,and how older men got
uncomfortable and tongue-tied around me. The lure of my body made me feel powerful...
and very hot. I joined the cheerleading squad in high school just so I could wear the little
uniform in public. On the days a game was to be played, I would wear the cheerleader outfit
to school. I was able to catch several guys looking my way, as well as a few teachers.
I could have cared less whether our football or basketball teams won their games. All I wanted was
to be on the sidelines, with hundreds of fans in the bleachers looking at me, and the athletes
stealing glances whenever there was a break in the action.
I never dated any guy for an extended period of time while growing up. I had two or three
boyfriends at a time. If any of them couldn't live with that and grew jealous, then they just
couldn't see me anymore. I never want to be tied down to one person. As a result, my sex life
was pretty adventuresome in high school. There were some days when I would go home with a certain
guy after school ended, and we would fuck each other's brains out. Then, that very same day,
I would later meet another guy for some sex.
I have always been very concerned about my appearance. I want to lookthe best, ALL the time.
I've bought several expensive brands of mascara, beauty supplies and skin conditioners. I have
good parents too, because they understand these feelings and were always there to buy me new,
trendy outfits. Right now, my height is 5'6" and I weigh in at 111 pounds. I have long,
free-flowing blonde hair and blue eyes. I have an all-over tan as well, in addition to a full
pair of breasts and curvy hips.In the 11th and 12th grades, I entered beauty pageants in the
local area (Ventura County, California). I did not win my first pageant until I was a senior,
though. The experience was fun and all, but the pageants themseleves were kind of dull.
I wanted something where I could show off more. I wanted to be a little more wild. But I didn't
know where I could find such an opportunity.
Then college came along. I attend to a university in Ventura County so I could stay close to my
family. However, I did move away and into a dorm room. The only job I could find upon entering
college was at a horrible salmon cannery. It was my luck that I wound up having to work the "slime
line" there. I was too embarrassed to let any of my friends know where I worked, so they never
found out. I still looked for different jobs but didn't find any for two more months. Then I
realized my unknown dream. I was studying late one day in the college library in November of my
freshman year. Afterwards, I went through the hallway and was headed back to my dorm when I saw
an advertisement on the main bulletin board which caught my eye. The headline was "DANCERS
WANTED". I looked at the flier and it said that a upscale gentleman's club in the area was
looking for young college ladies who were interested in making a lot of money. That caught my
eye first, the money part. But it went on to say that the club was looking for waitresses and
strippers. There was a telephone number and address on the flier as well. Instead of writing
the information down, I looked around to make sure no one was in sight, and then I simply tore
the flier down and took it with me.
I scheduled an interview for a Saturday morning and went there. The owner of the club, David, was
really nice. He talked to me for about 15 minutes, asking all kinds of questions. Then, I had
to give him and two managers from the club an audition. The club was closed, so the four of us
were alone. I went onto the stage and started to strip. I felt like I was home. If I could land
this job, I told myself, I would have the ultimate place to be a show-off. David and the managers
agreed that my dancing routine needed a lot of work, but all three of them liked my potential.
David offered to hire me as a waitress at first. He said I would take two hours of stripper
orientation each day I worked. The other hours would be spent as a waitress.
Once I was ready to become a stripper, he said, I would be promoted to that from a waitress.I agreed
immediately. Anything other than the slime line! I couldn't believe it at first. The waitress outfit
for this club was leopard hotpants, a matching bikini top and stiletto high-heels. I was too young to
serve drinks at the time (my age was 18 -- you haveto be 21 in California to serve or drink alcohol).
So, the management had me serve food and non-alcoholic beverages. From the very start, I had a blast.
I flirted with all the patrons ofthe club. Even though I wasn't supposed to, I met a couple of men
through the club. Sometimes I would meet them after my shift was over,and we would have wild sex
together.
The best thing was that many of my college peers frequented the club. Those guys were always, and
still are, after me during classes. Showing off my body and having my class-mates drool after me has
always been very enjoyable. I had my pick of who I wanted, and I surveyed lots of guys when it came
to sex.
It wasn't until the following January that I had gained enough training to become a stripper. The club
I work for is very up-scale,and they do not want strippers on their stage who look like amatuers.
Otherwise, I would have been a stripper from the very start. I stayed in shape by jogging along the
beach every day, except when it rained, and attending the local health club whenever the opportunity
arose. David told me when I first applied at the club that any excess pounds would not be tolerated.
I worked as a stripper on Friday and Saturday evenings, as well as a few Tuesdays. On the days I had
college and was to work that night, concentrating on my studies was always a bit more difficult. I would
rush for my dorm room after classes ended and carefully select an outfit for those evenings when I was
to work. For example, when I felt good and happy on a certain day, I would go for the "little girl"
look. I'd select frilly lingerie and put my hair into pigtails. If I was feeling friendly and
socialable, I'd pick out my "farmer's daughter" outfit. It consists of supertight denim shorts, cowboy
boots and a small, polka-dotted tanktop. If I was mad or upset, I'd go for the "harsh" look, decking
myself out in black leather clothing and boots, along with spiked heels, a pair of handcuffs attached
to my belt and a whip in my hand.
Other times, I chose to wear a loose strand of tiny seashells around my waist and a similar bikini top.
If I felt like role-playing, I'd go to the clubdressed as a police officer. I had several other outfits
as well. By the time the music started and I hit the stage each night, I was ready to go. I got more
sexually excited doing this than anything ever before it. Slowly pulling my outfit off while looking
into a man's eyes, dancing nude, bucking my hips on the stage and touching myself in front of everyone,
holding my breasts inches away from customers' eyes and mouths, all the while as they threw money at me.
It made me feel so powerful. Needless to say, I love my job.
I started stripping in January of 1994, and now it is May 1996. I've even become known as a local
celebrity, at least to my class-mates who visit the club on a frequent basis. I've even done a little
modeling work. I pose every now and then for a local adult magazine. Thephotographers one day came
to our club looking for talent, and I offered my services. My first pictorial was three nude pictures
in a "L.A. Women" spread in the magazine (even though I live 100 miles away from Los Angeles, they still
used me). Apparently, it received such a favorable response, that the magazine offered me more work.
I pose for them every couple of months. The news about my pictures in the adult magazine seemed to
spread very quickly around campus. It seemed within a couple of days, every guy had their own copy.
I would constantly have guys coming up to me to request autographs. I obliged them all, but now
realize that a fee should have been charged. I could have made a lot of money.
At the club, I have developed my own faithful following. There are my class-mates from college who come
in every week and spend their paychecks by asking for couch and table dances from me. There is also
the big-wigs, however, the older men who have lots of money. I like them the most. They tip the best.
I have my own private room in the club now, where I give one-on-one performances for the customers who
are interested. On the back wall of the room is a neon sign that reads "Welcome to Candyland". A lot
of the guys who don't know me from college have a hard time believing my name is Candy. They think it
is a stage name. But it's not. During the private dances in the room, even though there is a security
guard present, I allow the clients to gently touch me. I let them caress my legs and ass as I dance
for them. Sometimes, if I feel comfortable, I will take a seat in a man's lap and let him play with
my breasts. I've found the more receptive I am toward them, the more they like me. The more they
like me, the more money I make.
In December 1995, I became the instructor of the "stripper training" class that I was once a student in.
The former instructor had quit her job, and thus I volunteered to handle the duty. I was still a
dancer at the club, and performed each night I was there. But two hours of my shift was devoted to the
class. In this class, I soon came to appreciate the female body. I couldn't believe it, but I actually
started to develop sexual feelings for other women. The girls in my class were all gorgeous. I got to
watch them dance around, and take their outfits off. It made me hot just to watch them. Sometimes,
if I wanted to see them strip multiple times, I would tell them to put their outfit back on and then
take it off again, while repeating their strip sequence. "We need to work on your dance routine, girls,"
I would say to them for an explanation.
One of the girls in my first-ever class was a 19-year-old named Kerri. She was blonde and had enormous
but firm breasts. Indeed, she looked like the quintessential "California Girl". I never really thought
of her sexually in a specific way; I never singled her out from the other four or five who were in the
class. Until...Kerri approached me one day after the stripper class, after the other girls had left and
went to the dressing rooms to change into their waitress uniforms. Kerri closed the door and said that
she could tell that I enjoyed looking at not only her, but the other ladies in the class as well.
At first, of course, I denied it. However, Kerri persisted. As I continued to deny that I looked at
any of them in a sexual way, Kerri put her hand on the side of my head and said it was okay. That
seemed to quiet me down. Kerri said she was bisexual, and could easily tell when another woman had
their sights on her.
"I... I don't know what to say..." I told her in a gasp once she said that. Kerri was very sweet and
sensitive toward me. "Do you like me, Candy? Tell me, do you like my body?" I couldn't stop the word
"Yes" from coming out of my mouth. Kerri smiled knowingly at me, and then offered her telephone
number and an address on a sheet of paper. I quickly realized by looking at the note that she was a
student at my college, and had a dorm room there too. Tentatively, I took the note and placed it down
my bra. I then told her that she was a student at my college, and that I had a dorm room there as well.
Kerri touched my shoulder, and ignoring the words I had said, asked, "Have you ever been with a girl,
Candy?" I simply shook my head at her. In turn, she pressed her lips against mine ever-so-softly and
kissed me.
"Meet me tomorrow evening between six and seven o'clock at my dorm," she said. "I think you and I are
going to have a little talk, and maybe do some exploring." She kissed me again, but this time a little
harder. I was froze as she exited the training room and closed the door behind her.
The following night, I went over to Kerri's dorm room at 6:30. She greeted me at her door, wearing a
black evening gown with her hair pinned-up. She looked gorgeous. Kerri invited me in for dinner. I
was treated to baked chicken. It was delicious. But as I soon found out, so was Kerri.She made the
first move of the evening, walking up behind me after the meal and placing her wonderful hands upon my
shoulders for a massage. Within moments, I was loose and felt great. Then, she inched her hands lower
and moved them around my body, and began to cup my breasts through the blouse I wore. She kneaded my
breasts with her hands and it soon got to the point where I was so hot and bothered, that I could
not stop myself from getting up and turning around, then latching my mouth upon hers for a deep kiss.
Kerri was like a guide on this particular evening. She went slow, and taught me how to make love to
another woman. When she started to eat my pussy, I thought I'd lose my mind. Her mouth and tongue
felt like fire on me! Then, when I was finally able to eat her pussy, I DID lose my mind. I never knew
it could taste so good!
Since then, Kerri has moved into my dorm room with me. We used to call each other every night and have
"phone sex" for hours, gasping and telling each other through the line what we would like to do to
one another if together. It just got to the point that we decided it would be best if she move in with
me. I was looking for a roommate and there was certainly no better choice than my new lover. In
addition, Kerri is now a full-fledged stripper at the club. And since my "coming out" with her, I have
learned that there are many bisexual females, and even some lesbians, who work as strippers or
waitresses at the club. It can make for a pretty eventful evening, like the time 10 or so of us girls
stayed in the club after-hours and fucked each other for what seemed like an eternity. However,
there's still nothing in this world that can compare to a nice, hard cock.
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