I didn’t start university until my early twenties. My grades at school weren’t great so I worked a job for a couple of years studied part-time and then eventually went to university. I moved into a flat with two other girls. I loved them to bits and they are still close friends now. I couldn’t live like your typical student though. I couldn’t live off so little cash like them so I did some bar work in the evenings. One of the girls had a friend who used to hang with us. She was a little older than us but anytime we went out for drinks she would always be there.

One evening we were having pre-drinks at our flat. I got chatting with my friend's friend, who was called Emma. I was saying how it would be nice if I could make a little more money. She told me that when she was a student and short of cash she worked as a stripper in one of the clubs in the city. She said the money was great. I laughed and said I could never do that, I didn’t have the body of a model and I had not danced sober in years! She told me that was nonsense and that anyone could do it as long as they were confident.

I thought it was a ridiculous suggestion but I found myself thinking about it for the next few days. After all, it wouldn’t be a career, I would just use it as a means to earn some good money and make university life more comfortable. I called Emma as I wanted to ask her more questions. After our chat, she arranged for me to meet her old boss at the club and she even offered to teach me how to dance. She did teach me but that’s a story for another day! I was nervous but I went to meet the boss, he wasn't what I had imagined him to be like. I thought I was entering a seedy underworld full of crooks and gangsters like you see in movies and he would fit that description. He didn't, he was a soft-spoken guy with glasses. He was more like an accountant than a criminal. He offered me a job, I was now a stripper.

Fast forward a year or so and I’m still a student/stripper. It was a Saturday night, the club was busy. I was at the bar in the club chatting to one of the guys who worked at the bar. On a table in the corner was a group of girls, I had noticed them earlier, well heard them as they were part of a bachelorette party and were getting pretty loud and rowdy. I noticed just outside of my field of vision one of the girls from the party heading towards me.

“Hi there, do you think you could give my friend a dance?” the girl said in a giddy sort of way.

I said I would. I thought to myself this could be a little break, dancing for women is always easier than for men. So I went over to their table to meet the girl.

I was offered a seat and I sat down. I scanned the table and saw a bride-to-be pretty wasted, two of her friends talking very loudly, and one girl I couldn’t quite see in the dark corner. The girl who had approached me sat down next to me, she pointed at the girl in the dark corner.

“That’s the girl who wants a dance!” said the girl excitedly.

The girl in the corner moved closer to the table and became more visible, I knew her face. It took me a second but I now knew who she was. At the time of this story, this girl was mildly famous in the UK. I won’t mention her name or what she did and I will refer to her as “Emma” in this story. She wasn’t someone hugely famous but was well known to people who were fans of what she did.

“Our new friend here’s going to give you a dance, You gotta do it because you're the only one of us who hasn’t had one yet!” Emma's friend said playfully.

“Maybe later, ok?” Emma replied shyly to her friend while glancing at me with a forced smile.

Emma's friend just laughed and turned to me and said they wanted more drinks. I offered to go to the bar and let the staff know.

I went back to the bar, my boss made his way towards me.

“Keep that party of girls here as long as you can, they are spending a small fortune on champagne,” said my mild-mannered boss.

I had another bottle sent over for them and I went and sat at the table. I was offered a drink. I sat and sipped my drink and watched the girls. I started to think what if I had to dance for Emma, would it be weird? Would she find it weird? I thought about Emma, I remember seeing a photoshoot of hers in a magazine and thinking to myself that she’s hot. She’s the type of girl I’m attracted to. I watched the girl who had originally got me over leave the table and disappear out of sight, she returned after a minute or so. She sat back at the table.

“Right I’ve paid for you to have a dance, You’ve got no choice now, you are having a dance!” The friend said to Emma in a mischievous tone.

Emma didn't seem happy. She gave her friend a stern look. She then turned to me. I was on the receiving end of the same stern look. After a few moments, she reluctantly said with a sigh, “OK then, let’s do it. So what happens? How does this work?”

“Erm, just follow me. We'll go find a private booth, it will be just you and me,” I said nervously.

“Yeah, ok, sounds great,” Emma said in an uninterested manner as we rose from the table, her grabbing a drink in the process.

Emma followed me, I started to feel a little awkward about it as she didn’t seem to want the dance. We walked to the private area, a place with eight private booths. We walked to the farthest one and I pulled back the curtain for her. As she walked past me I got a whiff of her perfume, her scent nicely pricked my nose. I watched her walk in, she had this gorgeous dress on that enhanced her figure. She sat down on the built-in couch. I closed the curtain, now it was just me and her. Not much had been said between us, I watched her sip her drink. I started to dance, I moved a little to the house beats coming from the speakers, and then I began to slip the straps of my dress down my shoulders. Then I suddenly just burst out laughing, she looked bemused.

“What’s the matter? What’s so funny?” quizzed Emma.

“Look, I know who you are, I just think this is a bit surreal and a bit weird, Do you think so?” I replied.

“Yeah, kind of isn’t it,” she said while a wry smile crept across her face.

Emma's frosty attitude towards me was starting to thaw.

“Look, your friends have paid for an hour's dance with me. If you don't want a dance you are welcome to get up and leave now. Or if you like, I can get you a couple more drinks and you can sit and chill in this booth with me?” I said while taking a seat next to Emma.

She thought about my proposal.

“That's sweet of you letting me chill out in here. You don't mind?” she asks,

“Of course not,” I replied with a smile, “I could do with a little chill out in here, to be honest with you,”

She smiled back.

“I'll go get them drinks, be back soon,”

I returned to the booth with a couple of drinks. We sat and chatted for the whole hour. Well, you could say chatted but it was more like me bombarding her with questions about her life and career. She was cool though and she seemed to enjoy my company.

Her time was up and she got up to leave and rejoin her friends. She smiled at me.

“Well, I better get back to my friends,” Emma said reluctantly.

“It's been so nice chatting with you. This has been the most sensible conversation one had all evening,” she joked.

“Yeah, it's been nice. It's been lovely to meet you,” I said, dying slightly inside because it sounded so cheesy.

I watched her walk down the corridor. She glanced back at me from the end of the corridor and gave me a little wave. I sat in the booth for a moment, took my phone out, and replied to a text from earlier.

My text conversation with my friend lasted about ten minutes.

“Ok, back to work Danni,” I muttered to myself.

I pulled back the curtain to leave, and as I lifted my head I saw a familiar figure walking back down the corridor towards me. It was Emma. She had two glasses of champagne in her hand and a smile on her face.

“Can we go back into the booth? It’s chaos with my friends out there. Will you join me for a drink?” said Emma with a coy smile.

“Oh yeah, sure!” I replied a little too eagerly.

We went back inside the booth, she had already paid for another hour with me and we sat down to have a drink.

She began to ask me about my job, the usual stuff. I told her how I liked dancing for women as it’s usually more fun. She told me she had always been intrigued by strip clubs and lap dances but she had never had the opportunity to experience them.

Emma seemed to have relaxed, she was at ease with me. The same could be said for me, I felt comfortable with her. I was behaving around her as I would with one of my friends only with a slight difference, It felt flirty. I didn't read too much into this as I have misread signals from people in the past.

“Well, you have the opportunity now. Do you want me to dance for you?” I said. Surprising myself with the boldness of the question.

There was a slight pause, and then she nodded her head slowly.

“Yeah, okay then,” Emma said softly.

I sat my drink down and stood in front of her. It didn’t feel as awkward as the first time. She looked more intrigued now than uncomfortable. This time the straps of my dress came down with no problems and I shimmied out of my dress. As I stood upright in front of her, her eyes were looking at my body. I reached around and unhooked my bra, I slid it down my arms and dropped it on the floor.

I stood in front of her, she sipped her drink and her eyes surveyed my body. The atmosphere seemed to have changed, the mood had changed, and both of us seemed to be anticipating something to happen but what it was we didn’t know. Unusually for a stripper, I felt a little exposed standing over her, my blonde hair hung down and my boobs were exposed. The shoes I had on made me look taller than I was and as she scanned my body I noticed her take a longer than a glance look at my waist. I was wearing a little, low-cut, silky black thong. I’ll be honest, it was small and it didn’t leave much to the imagination. The tightness of the sleek material enhances the contours of my pussy. I think that had caught her eye.

I moved closer now, I danced over her. I lowered my face towards her ear. My heart was pounding.

“Now I would usually start to lap dance, do you want me to do that?” I said to Emma softly.

Again, there was a pause from her. After what seemed like an age, she nodded slowly again.

“Yes,” Emma said nervously.

I place one of my knees next to her on the couch, I look down at her, I sense she is nervous but also excited by the expression on her face. I use my other knee to gently part her legs just enough so I can straddle her. I’m on her lap, I press my body against hers and I slowly move up and down her torso like a snake moving on a tree. My head is next to hers, I can smell her hair, it smells fruity. She can hear me breathing into her ear.

I raise my body slightly, now my boobs are level with her face. I gently brush my nipples against her face. I find this exciting and I’m hoping she does. I press my breasts into her face, I can feel her breath on my nipples. I keep doing this because I don’t want to stop. I’m starting to get worked up. I slowly tease her, and one of my nipples moves across her face towards her mouth, my nipples are hard, I don't know if I imagined it but I was sure I felt her lips clasp my nipple for a split second.

I lower myself. I’m now sitting on her thigh. We keep eye contact. I notice that because of my previous movements her dress has ridden up, I was sitting on the rough material of her dress but now I’m sitting on the soft skin of her thigh. I start to rock gently. Her thigh fits perfectly between my legs. As I rock on her thigh, the sensation of my pussy rubbing against her and the silky material of my knickers is intense. I’m at that point now where my inhibitions have gone out of the window, I’m going with the flow. I carry on rocking on her thigh. I’m getting wet. I think she knows what I’m doing and if she does, she doesn’t stop me.

When I first straddled Emma, her hands were firmly down by her side. Her palms were planted on the sofa like every respectful customer. Most customers will try to touch me when their excitement gets the better of them. I usually paw their hands away gently. Is Emma a respectful customer? Not now she isn't. I feel her warm hands on my lower back, one hand gently tugging on the stringy part of my thong. I let her play with my thong. There is no pawing away tonight.

As much as I was enjoying this, I gathered myself and tried to stay professional. I climb off her thigh and step back to gather myself. I look at Emma, I’ve messed up her hair a little. I’ve dishevelled her dress too, and as I look at her, I can’t help but notice the pink material of her knickers between her legs currently on show. I ask if she’s ok and if she wants me to carry on, she doesn’t speak just nods her head, indicating me to carry on.

This time I reverse my body onto her lap, my thinking is maybe if I can’t see her I can calm down and just give her an ordinary dance. I slowly gyrate my bum on her thighs, It’s going ok, not getting too steamy, got to be professional I think to myself.

Then I lean back, my head resting against her shoulder, I can feel her breathing heavily against me, and I can smell her perfume again. Her scent reminds me of every time I have made out with a girl in a club or fucked a girl after a night out. I feel fear and excitement as I know something is going to happen.

I feel a hand on my hip, one of my hands is on the couch being used to balance. I feel her other hand rest on top of mine. I lean further back into her, my body slides between her thighs, and I start to slowly grind my bum between her legs. She starts to move with me. I like the feel of her warm hand on my body and I can feel her lightly stroking my hip with her finger, up and down, up and down. Now it’s on the move.

I know now I’m in trouble. As I’m pressed against her body I know I’m losing control. Her hand clasps mine. Her other hand which was on my hip is now on my stomach. Her hand inches lower, inching down my skin until she reaches the material of my thong. I hear a whisper in my ear

“Can I just…” Emma softly whispers.

I never heard the rest of her question. As she spoke I felt her fingers walk themselves down the outside of my thong until they reached their destination. I gasped as she touched me for the first time. She’s stroking me, slowly but firmly, and I enjoy the pressure. My body melts into hers and I let her do as she wants. She keeps going. She clumsily tries to pull my knickers down, I keenly help her out and pull them down over my thighs just enough to unveil my pussy. I feel her fingers on my clit, she rubs it in a circular motion.

After only a few minutes I could feel myself getting close, I would even say that she wasn’t that good with her fingers, but I was getting off on the situation. I grip her forearm, my thighs tense up and I feel an orgasmic wave flow through my body as I hold my hand over my mouth to muffle an ecstatic scream. I lie back on her for a few moments in absolute bliss.

I pull myself up and kneel next to her on the couch, I lean in and kiss her passionately. She tastes of champagne. I have a hand on her leg, I feel blindly for the inside of her thigh. I gently push her thigh farthest away from me, she puts up no resistance and slowly her legs open. She leans back, her head resting on the back of the couch, her eyes closed. My hand is at the top of her inner thigh. I slowly slide a finger under her knickers. I feel a cute little tuft of hair. Another finger slides in, and I hear her gasp as I slowly move my fingers down her pussy. I feel her wetness and start to stroke her. I gently push, and I slowly feel my finger sliding into her. Her body tenses up, she moves onto my hand.

Her breathing is heavy, and she starts to moan, biting her fingers to try and stop herself. With her eyes closed and her head back, I have thoughts about dropping to my knees and burying my head between her thighs. I wonder what she would taste like? I notice that as I kneel next to her on the couch, I’m touching myself, using the same motion as I am doing to her.

Annoyingly, in the last few minutes I had begun to notice a noise coming from Emma’s bag. Her bag was next to her on the couch and her phone had been vibrating continuously for a minute or so. She had not noticed for obvious reasons! As I soon discovered, her friends had been calling her phone. Me and Emma are still going at it, her body moving with the rhythm of my hand.

“Keep going, you’re gonna make me cum,” I vaguely recall Emma saying to me.

I found them words so exciting. Them words make my pussy pulse. I'm kneeling next to her. Fucking both of us at the same time. She reaches for my pussy, she makes contact with my hand. I willingly withdraw my hand.

“Oh wow, you are so wet,” she gasps.

I bite my lip. I want her to fuck me.

“Please just fuck me. Put your fingers in me,” I begged.

She was just about to. I could feel her just about to slide a finger in. Then, without warning, we heard voices, loud enough to hear over the music in the booth and the noise we were making. The noise is getting closer too. It’s her friends.

“Babe, where are you?! We’ve been calling your phone!” the familiar voice of Emma’s friend calls out.

Upon hearing this, Emma reacts at a lightning pace, she immediately sits upright and sorts out her dishevelled appearance just in time before a face appears from behind the curtain to the booth.

“There you are babe!” the friend says.

Emma’s friend assesses the scene. I was not as quick to react to the girls’ voices outside, her friend saw me sitting on the couch, one shoe on one shoe off, my hair an absolute mess, and what probably was the biggest clue to what had been happening between me and the girl, me unsuccessfully trying to pull my knickers up from around my thighs. Emma's friend looks at me, then at Emma who has a sheepish look on her face.

“Hmm, what the fuck has been going on here?” the friend questioned Emma in a shocked and slightly angry manner.

Emma looked embarrassed, she answered her friend in an unconvincing way, not giving her an answer. Emma stands up to leave, but as her friends leave before her, she turns to me.

“Sorry,” she mouthed at me looking quite embarrassed.

Their voices disappeared down the corridor; it sounded like an argument broke out. If it was because of what Emma’s friends had just seen, the amount of alcohol that had been drunk by them all, or a combination of the two, I’ll never know. I stayed in the booth alone, I didn’t want to get involved with that.

I often think about what might have happened if her friends had not interrupted us. How far would it have gone, who knows? On the other hand, we could have been caught. I would have lost my job and who knows if that would have gotten Emma into any trouble if the story got into the wrong hands. I remember being slightly annoyed with myself that I had done what I did. I felt like I had acted, basically, kind of slutty. But now I look back and think I was being too hard on myself, I was young and in the end, no one got hurt.

Emma was only briefly in the public eye and after a short while, but I never forget her when she faded from the media. I didn’t stay in the job much longer after that. I finished university and moved to a different part of the country with my new job. But that night will live long in my memory for years to come.