My first official night as a stripper is complete and I am grateful to be a part of this family. Here's how it happened!
I got an agency call that I had a booking Satuday night and I'm shaking, I don't have my lingerie, I don't have a routine set in stone, but I head out to the house, bachelor party with 25 men. Bikers. All of them. And most old enough to be my father. Not that I'm intimidated or anything. *Whimpers* And I wonder 'I haven't done this before what in the world do I do-' But I stride in as though I own them all and within three minutes, I do. Classic rock, schoolgirl outfit, whipped cream, pool table, coming out to the garage to perform a handcuffed dance on their impressive collection of motorcyles, grinding them on the couch, trashing the bachelor and all of his friends, I mean, do you know how amazing that felt? To be so wanted? To have all of those eyes on you, and stupid grins on all their faces, and the way they all guffawed at my wittisicms and insults (of which there were plenty and all well recieved) I mean, the energy of it was just intoxicating. Don't get me wrong. I slapped a lot of hands away, made a lot of artful dodges, there were quite a few frightening moments. Wondering if my unrequitted love or my Dad would walk into the room or something. Wondering if they'd get out of control (out of my control) and bring all of my nightmares to life. But they didn't. They just kept loving my company and cramming money into my stockings and saying 'No seriously, how much do you want to let Frankie stick it in?' A brawl even broke out over who could throw down the most cash. A debate also broke out as to whether they could fit a billiards ball up my reproductive canal. I insisted that we leave that theory untested. And at two in the morning with my makeup all smeared to hell and the batteries on my vibrator running low and a thin glaze of saliva and whipped cream congealing on my ass crack I offered my congratsulations to Dan, the bachelor, telling him he was a good man and he was going to make a great husband. And he smiled and told me, "Sam (my dancing name) you've got the biggest balls out of anyone in this house, I don't know how you do it"
And that felt good, ladies. Really good. Not quite as good as counting out my tips at the end of the night did though. Christ almighty, I don't make that much in a week waiting tables!
And so, my name is Nurse Betty. I live in Dallas. I'm moving to Los Angeles in the Maytime to try to make it as a serious actress. I'm twenty-two years old, I have a little sister I love more than I love my own heart, and I can't wait to settle into this new lifestyle of lots of money, lots of free time, and the satisfaction of telling people "You say 'tit dancer' like it's a bad thing".
Kisses!
Nurse Betty



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