My Breaking In

I worked as a sales clerk at Talbots summers during college. My mother's best friend was the manager, so I had an in getting hired. During my second summer a woman was working there and she had a thing about her that gave me the creeps. She was in her mid thirties, dressed well, but not coordinated and somehow she got the sizes wrong, a bit too tight if you can understand. But you make conversation when things are slow, and we were arranging clothes one slow Wednesday and she asked me if I had ever 'danced'.

I missed it completely and told her that I danced when I was like seven and eight, but I wasn't good at it, so my mother took me out of ballet. No, she said that's not what she meant. Danced, like in a club. I was slow, and she had to explain 'dance topless, share your tits with the boys'. I said no, and she quickly said that she danced in clubs from the time she was seventeen until she was 32 when she just couldn't keep up with the younger girls with their false tits. She moved to our city, I live in a city of several million, because she had a friend who married a man from here. A friend she met one night and married him, in Las Vegas. She was a dancer too.

For all that I have been raised to be careful I went out with her after work. We went to a bar, and she winked at the waitress and they served me even if I wasn't 21. After a while, it was dark in there, it sort of crossed my mind that the place was all women, and most of them were no where near 21. One woman came over to our table, one of those little tables where you have to sit on top of each other, and asked me to dance. I turned to my coworker and she waved her off telling her that I already had a date. The stage curtains opened and several women got on the stage to dance, the music was slow and the dancing was slow, arms wrapped against each other. Like I said other than me no one was even close to 21. One pair of women started kissing on the stage and my coworker took my hand and asked me to dance.

She took me up there, pulling me by the wrist. She took her bra off when she got on stage and her boobs bounced around under her shirt. She reached behind me and pulled my blouse out of my pants and reached under my blouse and disengaged my bra and and let my boobs loose. I covered myself with my arms, but the whistling and take it off got loud and my coworker took her shirt off and pulled my shirt off over my head. Frankly I'm not built for nude dancing, not like her, she had the boobs but not me. But the crowd wanted my boobs, and the lights focused on me and I was standing naked from the waist up with a couple of dozen women giving me the thumbs up. It wasn't funny, but everyone laughed and the place got a new vibe and some other women went topless and the party got going. I was in a lesbian bar, mostly women in the thirties or forties, some of them topless with tits of all kinds. I got kissed that night and she ran her hand up between my legs patting my pubic region and getting hoots and hollers out of the women there.

We left at one a.m. I was not drunk but close to it. We left our bras behind hanging around the neck of some women we would never see again. We went to her apartment, an apartment complex where those of who lived in that part of town knew not to go because of the people that lived there. I found myself on her bed, my pants off, my panties around one ankle and her face and mouth between my legs. I went into a once in a million orgasm, shoving her face way from me, getting my hands slapped and shoving my legs apart from the knees, and she shoved her face back in my very tender pussy and clit. I woke up the next morning, naked and with her arms around me, and a headache that wouldn't stop.

There was more, I had to learn that there was more, when a girl goes home with an older lesbian, she showers with her and lathers her up and lets herself be lathered, and lets the woman's hands wash up her pussy and up her butt crack. There is a lot of kissing and hand holding and words about how good you are and how much fun it was and then shoved back down on the bed and having her straddle my face and put her pussy against my mouth. You can't say no, you have to open your mouth and get your nose out of the way so you can breathe. A lesbian primer, she called it. Breaking a girl in. I went home to change, and showed up at work late and I told my mother she didn't want to know.

I got broken in over the summer, we went back to the bar where I danced half naked and learned to wear thongs for her and take my bra off when we went out. She was a professional, a professional strip club dancer, and professional lesbian hooker in Las Vegas. the only reason she didn't meet and marry a dunk man, was because she was naked with a woman. I went back to college with an experience I would never tell anyone about. She worked for my mother a couple of months that fall and then moved on. She left me a note, that she did her best to break me in, and never let a man fuck me. I haven't.