One of my cousins stripped with me for a short time. I have many cousins so if you know me, good luck guessing which one. I will never say which. She was going through a rough break up with a boyfriend and wanted to try it.
We had talked about it beforehand. I told her to be careful and said all the things a person who cares should say to someone who is considering becoming a stripper. She seemed strong enough to handle it and free spirited enough to like it so I helped her get an entertainer’s position at the club I worked at.
The first Friday night that we worked together, I introduced her to a customer of mine. He had been coming to see me since the summer before. He and I got along well and I thought it would be fun for him to meet my cousin. I hadn’t really thought about what it would be like to do a couch dance with a blood relative. But I’d inadvertently set myself up to find out.
Of course, he wanted a lap dance. From both of us. I thought it would be relatively easy, no pun intended there. I started the dance and she followed my lead. We took turns grinding our bodies against his in various positions. While she was on his lap, he ran his fingers up the back of my neck and tightly gripped the hair at the base of my skull. He led my face toward my cousin’s chest. My eyes met the teal ribbon that accented the black laced bra she wore. She’d borrowed it from me. Tiny beads of sweat appeared on the skin above it. “Touch her” he urged. He pushed my head into her neck. I feigned sincerity as I slowly planted little kisses down her neck to her chest.
She moved closer to me and smiled at him flirtatiously. I couldn’t tell if she was acting or if her expression was just one of pure embarrassment. All three of our bodies moved against one another for another eight minutes in a dry grind that left our skin moist with sweat.
It was a strange experience that has lingered in my memory for longer than it probably should have. She and I bonded in the time we spent together working as strippers. I wouldn’t take that back ever, even if I could. As for the cousin lap dance… I’m not sure I would do that over.
The customer we danced with ended up being a good friend of mine for a long time. We don’t see much of each other anymore and he no longer comes in to the club. But every now and then, I’ll run into him in a store or something and he’ll ask me, “How’s your cousin?” I’ll pause for a second too long before answering and he’ll remind me, “You know, the one I made you incest with?” as if I could ever forget.