Creole Gaudet

I flashed my membership card to the door girl, dropped a tip into her jar, and entered. I was immediately greeted by a waitress who introduced herself as Stephanie. She sat me at a table, mid main floor. I ordered a Caesar Salad with grilled chicken and a Voss.

An old friend named Tatum sashayed sexily towards me, wearing a warm smile. Tatum was medium height with a curvaceous, slim build. Her shoulder-length jet-black hair was accented with a pair of full cherry lips and silvery blue eyes. “Where have you been, stranger?”

It was at the Golden City Gentlemen’s Club where I first met Jenna. She was cute, petite with bright blue eyes, a turned-up nose, and a pair of naturally red pouting lips. Her auburn hair was cut shoulder-length, which she wore with one side pulled behind her ear.

During our conversations, she’d told me that she was from Oklahoma and was the sole provider for her young daughter and mother, with whom she shared a house.

I was at Club Fantasy, a high-end strip club in Dallas, seated in the VIP with a wealthy friend of mine named Marty and two other friends, Vince and his brother Jose, who served as Marty’s bodyguards. As usual, Marty had the party going with lots of food, drinks, and stacks of cash for tips and lap dances with the girls.

I was chatting with Vince when a dancer by the name Faith took a seat next to me at our table.

Chloe was a tall, shapely blonde who modeled part-time and stripped full-time at Club Sights.

She lived with her grandmother, who she once described as a prying busybody with deep reservations about her working in a house of sin and that she would have had a stroke on top of a heart attack on top of a stroke if she’d known her one and only sweet and naive granddaughter was swinging her rear end on a pole and not waiting tables as promised.

Being under a constant vigil made partying at home next to impossible, so she would often stop by my place after work to unwind.

She was a petite, chocolate-brown girl dressed in a pair of fitted white denims with a matching crop top, exposing her taut midriff. Her hair was cut in a short asymmetrical bob that hung low and across the face on one side and was chopped and tapered in the rear.

As I exited my car, I saw her pulling back in. She cut a look before shifting her eyes away. I tossed up my arm, forcing her attention. She stopped next to me. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” Her broad smile was just as I remembered. “Your name is Trish, right?”

She was curled up with a customer, kitty-corner from me, which gave me a side view of her slim figure. Her eyes were a striking green. Her raven black waves flowed to the middle of her back.

She caught my eyes and tossed me a seductive wink. I downplayed the flirt by not returning any obvious gestures. A deadpan look and a slight head nod were just enough.