“I was actually thinking about checking out the new art gallery. The one that just opened downtown,” you say, trying to bring it up haphazardly. There is a new art gallery and you are a little interested in checking it out but there is something else you’d like to visit even more.
“You mean the one in the bad part of town. That area is so gross, full of drug dealers, prostitutes, and strip clubs,” Megan says in disgust. Ellen perks up at the mention of drug dealers but quickly becomes disinterested. Her dealer gives her a discount for letting her touch her boobs, there's no reason to go looking for a new dealer. You keep your face as impassive as possible, trying to keep your own reaction from showing.
“It’s not that bad and I’ll just be spending the afternoon in the art gallery. I doubt I’ll run into any problems there,” you laugh, all casual and smiles. Truth is your destination isn’t the art gallery but the strip club next door. It was called The Cougar Club, a strip club with dubious practices and dozens of older but still gorgeous women. Your friend Shelby’s mom used to work there before she got too fat and lazy. When you were over a few weeks ago Shelby’s mom got drunk and started talking about it, how she would make out with women on stage and take clients into the VIP room for extra services. She made it sound like a place where sex was thrown around all the time, and you knew you had to see it. Sure, you were underage and had no money, but just watching was good enough for you. Although off you need yup in a stripper’s G-string you weren’t going to complain.
“I can take you there,” Catherine speaks up, surprising you. You thought your mom would say no when she heard about where you were going. She was so overprotective of you at times, it drove you nuts. But for whatever reason, she seemed perfectly fine with you hanging out around such a seedy area. Maybe if she knew how perverted you were she’d have second thoughts but she still saw you as her tiny, baby girl.
You smile at your mom, feeling a tad bit bad for lying to her. “Thanks, mom.”
“It’s no problem, I’m actually going to be in the area. Just remember to be careful in the art gallery and don’t go wandering around outside,” Catherine warns you, her warm, soft expression going stern as she warns you. Nodding quickly, you start worrying that this plan might not be that smart. If your mom was going to be in the area did you really want to risk her spotting you going into a strip club?
You finish breakfast, Megan talking excitedly about her plans for the next day as you poke your food. You aren’t hungry right now, your stomach is twisting into knots from anxiety about what your planning to do. By the time your mom is taking you to the car, your not sure whether you’ll be able to go through with sneaking off to the strip club or not. It’s one thing to imagine going, making plans in your head about how you’ll get there and what you’ll do, but it's quite different to actually do it. A hundred different things could go wrong from a horny stripper or customer kidnapping you to someone finding you and calling your mom. Honestly, you’d rather be some perverts sex slave than have your mom find out you lied to her.
After a short drive your at your destination. Mom parks the car and gets out, you sitting on her palm trying to make up your mind whether to go in or not. You look at the art gallery and spot a poster showcasing whose art will be on display. They have a special show going on, displaying the art of renewed and out there artist Miss Neapolitan. You look at a picture of her on the poster, she has pink, brown and white stripes in her hair, hence her name, but she also has a pretty nice body, big breasts, wide hips, long legs and pretty face. She’s no stripper but it says she’ll be in the art gallery. Could you ogle her all afternoon?
“Would you like me to take you inside?” Catherine asks. You can hear the unease in her voice at your surroundings. You're ready to say sure when you spot someone walking into the building next door. Half naked with only a bra, panties and fishtail stockings, you don’t see much more of her before she’s gone but you want to. Now more conflicted than ever, you just weakly mutter to Catherine. “I’m okay. Put me down.”
“Okay, honey,” Catherine says as she lowers you to the dirty pavement, You wave up to your mom, giving her the signal that you're fine. You just stand there, waiting for her to get into the car and drive away. You ponder on what to do, stay safe or play it dangerous? By the time your mom has driven off, you’ve made up your mind.
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