Sliding Into Home by Kendra Wilkinson Page B

regulars just adored me, and that’s why I made so much money. I know in the back rooms some girls will take it a little further than they are supposed to just to make some extra cash. Luckily, I never felt like I had to do that. I had a good group of guys who loved giving me their money so I made bank without having to cross any lines.
    My feelings toward the customers wavered. On one hand, I always looked at the men as stupid; no matter what I was doing or saying to them, I was always thinking,
Give me my fucking money, you sucker.
I’d smile and say whatever it took to get them to just keep giving me more money. But then sometimes I would talk to them and I’d actually start considering them friends. I tried to be a tough bitch, but I’m also a softy.
    One regular once told me that I would be famous someday. I thought,
Shut the fuck up!
It was like he was a fortune-teller or something, because the next words out of his mouth were, “You’re going to be one of those famous girls at the Playboy Mansion.”
    “Are you just saying that because I’m giving you a lap dance right now?” I asked, laughing.
    “No honey, for real,” he said. “You’re going to be famous.”
    For whatever reason, that stuck in my head.
    Famous or not famous, I was the top earner at that strip club. Of course, I had slow nights where I would come home angry. I didn’t want to strip for nothing! I was working my ass off out there, literally, so I wanted to get paid. Regardless of who made what, all the girls got along really well. We were happy for one another when someone was successful. It was a business for all of us; some girls had kids they were putting through school, and some were in school themselves. There were no crackheads in the bunch. By the end of my first night I was comfortable enough to walk into that locker room and sit wherever I wanted to sit and talk to whoever I wanted to talk to, and I didn’t feel like a little girl in there anymore. After all, when you’re stripping you grow up pretty fast.
    One of the girls at the club and I got really close. We talked all the time, and eventually we started to get flirty with each other. When you work in a club where all of your coworkers are naked there is a pent-up sexual tension that you can’t release. Sometimes I’d go home to Zack in the middle of the night and release it with him, but other times that wasn’t an option.
    This girl and I started talking about our past lesbian experiences,and the conversation got hot. Without saying it outright, we both knew where this talk was going. When I told her Zack was out of town, she let me know she was ready to party.
    “Let me come over,” she said, and after our shifts ended, we both went back to my place.
    I had been down the girl-on-girl path before and it hadn’t worked out, but I figured, hey, why not try it again? Once we were back at my place, we sat on the couch and had some drinks. Then she made the first move.
    She leaned in and kissed me on the lips, then slowly moved down my neck. It was a little awkward but I was down. Eventually clothes started coming off and we were going at it. It was a fun night, but Zack was not happy about it when I told him what happened. “But it’s a girl. How can you get mad?” I asked, but he and I could just not see eye-to-eye on the issue.
    However, he got over it, and eventually we let her and a couple of others come over for threesomes on occasion. Okay, we never really had a threesome, because I never let Zack do anything with the other girls. I was allowed to have fun and do whatever I wanted, and he had to keep his eyes and hands on me. (That’s fair, right?) Trust me, he wasn’t too disappointed; I got a stripper pole for the house and put on private shows for him all the time.
    Zack came to the club once in a while, but he wasn’t really allowed to be there. Cheetah’s, like many strip clubs, had a “no boyfriends” policy. At the end of the day, Zack didn’t