The dark chill of the night was immediately forgotten as I walked into the brightly lighted alcove. The driving beat of the Stones was blaring out of the heavy overhanging speakers. I paid my admission and took a seat near the stage, balls ready to nail the lucky girl.

The lights dimmed, and the first stripper came out. She was striking: tall and slender, with full breasts firmly encased in a tight-fitting red corselet. During her first number, she pranced from side to side, gyrating provocatively to the incessant beat.

The second song blasted into the room. She jumped full-force into her routine. She unclasped her corselet, and her beautiful tits and dark-brown nipples bounced into view. Gently caressing just the tips, she danced sexily in front of us.

At this point she was down to her panties. They were pale lavender with a yellow tweety bird painted over her bulging crotch. The third song came on; it featured a melodic bass line that slowly built to a pulsating beat. She stood perfectly still as the music started its slow rise. At precisely the moment it took off, she took off her panties, revealing a G-string and another tweety bird, and then spread her legs in a neat split. Pulling herself erect, she danced, confident and raunchy, around the floor until her song ended.

I ordered a beer. This was going to take a while. The next dancer was even more striking. Her dark skin flashed amber in the overhead lighting. Her brown eyes sparkled. She twirled majestically around the stage. Her tits, snugly fitted into a halter top, were smaller than the first girl’s, and firmer. The cheeks of her tight little ass pushed hard against the soft fabric of her cutoff jeans.

During the second number, she untied her top and dropped it almost in my lap. I smiled. She laughed and spun away. Then she did something even I thought quite imaginative. She slowly rolled her jeans down her thighs and kicked first one foot loose, then the other. Wetting one index finger, she slid it in and out of her cunt, rubbing faster and faster to the tempo of the music.

Eyes closed, head back, she rocked forward on the soles of her feet. As the song ended, she delicately ran her finger up the narrow cleft that separated her pert little tits and slowly sucked it into her mouth. Licking the moisture off her finger, she looked directly at me. I was harder than a rock.

Another beer for another dancer. This one was a tall, statuesque blonde. She looked English. Her skin was pale, almost translucent. Her cheeks were well defined and she had a glint in her eye that immediately caught my attention. Her name, I soon found out from the barmaid, was Sunny.

Sunny moved with a natural dancer’s grace. Her routine wasn’t high on the raunch meter; it was just pure sensuality. She couldn’t help noticing my attention and smiled my way whenever she moved close to me. Her smile was warm and open. I liked her style.

Her body was something else. Taut and firm in every part, not an ounce of fat. Her breasts rode high and proud on her chest. Her long legs led up to a perfectly formed ass. I was enthralled.

The next two dancers paled in comparison. They all did. How could I meet Sunny?

It was almost twelve. By now I was on a first-name basis with Lydia, my friendly, attentive, well-tipped barmaid. Right before the last dancer was to go on, Lydia came over to me and tapped me on the shoulder.

“This is for you,” she smiled, handing me a piece of paper. “Don’t say nothing, okay?” She quickly walked away. I unfolded a note with Sunny’s name and phone number on it.

The next night was a Sunday night. I figured she would be off, so I called her. After several rings, Sunny picked up. I introduced myself. At first she didn’t seem to know who I was.

“I was in the front row,” I told her. “Remember the guy who couldn’t keep his eyes off you? The one you had Lydia give the note to."

“Oh, right, now I know,” she said. “Do you want to see me?"

We set it up for the following night. I would meet her at Rudy’s, not a topless bar, but close to it.

I was drinking my second beer when she walked in. I don’t mind saying that I’m quite a veteran of topless bars and I’ve certainly scored my share of strippers, but this Sunny was something else. She was dressed in a pair of white, billowy cotton pants and a man’s shirt. Even without makeup and in plain clothes, she was striking. Her shoes looked new. They were see-through and seemed to be made out of plastic. She sat in the seat next to me.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I asked her.

“Club soda is fine.” Sunny wanted to tell me about herself, and I was glad to hear her story. I just let her talk, nodding or yessing in what I felt were the appropriate spots.

She was a show girl. Winters she toured with a dance company to Las Vegas, Reno, Atlantic City, to the bright lights in the big cities. In the off-season, she worked at the Border Line, where I had seen her. The topless dancing didn’t bother her, she said. It was just an extension of what she did on tour.

“I have a nice body,” she told me. “Why shouldn’t I show it off?” I couldn’t disagree. Sunny was the first born-again topless dancer I’d ever met. She was a vegetarian and even refused to wear leather. That was where the shiny plastic shoes came into it.

I finished my drink and we walked out to my car. “Let’s go for a ride.” She said okay, but she wanted me to drive us in her car. When I agreed, she smiled and we climbed into the low bucket seats of her ’67 Mustang. We drove awhile, listening to a Judy Collins tape: her choice.

I parked north of the city in the low-lying hills. The night was clear. The lights of the west valley danced in the moonlight. I leaned toward her, putting my arm around her. Sunny kissed me lightly. I pulled her close and kissed her, running my tongue around the inside of her open mouth. She responded with a low moan. I tried to maneuver her down into the seat, but the car seemed too small.

Gently she pushed me back into my seat. Then she took my hands away and placed them by my sides. “Just relax,” she murmured. Slowly Sunny undid my belt and unzipped my fly. Rummaging around inside, she withdrew my thickening cock. Dropping her eyes, she lowered her head and began a slow sucking of my throbbing member. I was going to the moon fast.

She held my balls in one hand and with the other lightly pulled up and down on my dick as she sucked the head deeper and deeper into her throat. I came in thick spurts. Sunny sucked down every drop. Some show girl.

After that night, we developed a regular routine. On Wednesdays I would wait for her to get off work. I’d meet her in the parking lot at about 1:30. We’d park for a while, and I enjoyed hearing about her dancing and her regulars at the bar. After a half hour or so, we’d start to kiss.

The first night, I figured out a way to get her bucket seat to ride back and down. I was in heavy-petting heaven. Gently I pushed her into position and ran my hands over those perfectly shaped tits. Her blouse pulled up easily, and I sucked on her soft, pink-tipped nipples for a while. She moaned deeply as I pulled at the taut flesh with my teeth.

Slipping my hand underneath her billowy cotton pants, I caressed her upper thighs, reaching the narrow band of her G-string. She always wore a G-string, shaving the hair close and neat around it.

I pushed the G-string to one side and finger-fucked her. She was really into it, bouncing and squirming all around that narrow little seat. I maneuvered her pants down. Before they were off, she had my cock out, hot and pulsing in her hand.

In a flurry I drove deep into her. Her muscular thighs were wrapped around my back. My dick was thrusting hard and fast into her tight wet cunt. That night Sunny showed me her favorite trick.

Just before I came, when I was rising and cresting high above her, she jammed a finger in my asshole. I thought the top of my head was coming off. I bellowed into her soft blonde hair as I shot my load into her. She kept bucking under me, drawing out every drop. With a loud wail, she came, grabbing a handful of my hair in each fist. Sunny loved to fuck as much as I did.

This was getting crazy. Before our next meeting, I asked her if she would like to come over to my apartment. I don’t need to tell you that this was a first for me. Sunny thought it was a good idea too. I think she was as sick of her Mustang as I was.

Early on a Wednesday night, I straightened up as if I were getting ready for military inspection and threw all my dirty laundry under the bed. I surveyed the room before I went to meet her and wondered if I was getting in over my head.

Sunny was in great spirits when I met her. She had made a lot of tips that night, and many of the regulars who really appreciated her style had been in. I smiled.

The porch light was on when we drove into the drive. It was almost 2 a.m. I parked and rushed around to her side to open her door; I couldn’t believe I was really doing this. We were laughing together when we walked into the front room.

“Club soda?” I asked her. She smiled. I had bought them especially for her. I went into the kitchen to get her one and a fresh beer for me. When I came back into the living room, all the lights were off except a small corner lamp. A Judy Collins record was on and Sunny was lounging comfortably on the couch, undressed down to her G-string, with her shirt open. She smiled at me as I walked up to her.

Setting her drink and my beer on the coffee table, I leaned low into her warm neck. She moaned. Before long my dick was out and in her mouth. Her legs were high above me and I was lapping at her cunt. We were like caged animals let loose. The record ended and another, slow, melodic tune streamed blissfully out of the speakers.

We rolled onto the carpeted floor. I was suddenly glad I’d spruced the place up and bought a rug recently. Sunny positioned herself under me and I drove deep into her pussy with my throbbing erection. We were rocking in double time to the music. Just before I came, she jammed that long, wet finger deep into my anus. I reared back, pulled out and shot all over her tits. She kept bouncing against me, harder and harder, and then in a flash she came. She was hotter than a firecracker. I was in love, more deeply in love than I had ever been.

I rolled away from her onto my back, panting and sweating. Sunny quickly got up and went into the bathroom. I finally caught my breath and turned on the lamp next to the couch. This woman was really turning me around. I had started out thinking that I might do some stripper a favor the night I walked into the Border Line, and now I was fantasizing about what it might be like to come home each night and find Sunny in my shower.